#AND SHE PAINTS SOMETHING OR SOMEONE. FULLY MAKING HER AN OFFICIAL MEMBER

[buckyownsmylife]

Animal of the Night - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you decided to tempt Tom by wearing a sexy Venom costume.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, oral sex (m), spanking, dirty talk, name-calling, choking

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: this was requested by the lovely @jbreenr​ a while back and it’s finally here 😎

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d been casually watching the door, waiting for her to arrive like it was no big deal, but it absolutely was. I’d been dying to see her ever since filming wrapped, but because there was still so much to be done until I could go back home and she was knees deep in some work herself, we’d agreed that we’d meet at this off-season Halloween party one of our friends was throwing. Even though I much preferred to be locked inside a room with her all night.

“Hey, man! What you’ve been up to?” I got distracted as the host of the night finally approached me to make some light conversation. It had been a while since we had the opportunity to chat - I’d been spending all my time in the city at her apartment or mine, consequently ignoring our group of friends as I’d much rather be buried deep inside of her, but I had to admit that I did miss the guys.

Not enough to stop me from wishing I was alone with her, though.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been so absent. You know… work. What have you been up to?” I accepted the beer he was offering as well as the hug, throwing one last glance at the door before turning my body to fully concentrate on him.

“Just the usual. Work hard and play hard. Not a lot going on at the moment.” I nodded, taking a swig of the beer before I realized I should probably ask about the rest of the gang.

“What about everyone else? Is something different going on?” Tyler seemed to think for a moment - it’s never too easy to come up with stuff to talk about when put at the spot, I should know that - but then his eyebrows shot up and a big smile opened on his face, clear indications that he had thought of something interesting.

“Yeah! I don’t know if you’ve heard this already, I know you two are kinda close, but with you being away… Apparently, Y/N has a boyfriend.” My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach at that, panic clawing my insides and begging me to start yelling.

How could she start dating and not tell me about it? Sure, she was free to find a boyfriend, what we had wasn’t exactly official, and consequently, not exclusive, but I thought I deserved at least some update when she found someone to replace me.

The thought of her being with anyone else burned me to the core, and I held the bottle of beer so tightly I was surprised it didn’t break. Grinding my teeth so Tyler wouldn’t realize there was something wrong, I asked as monotonously as I could, “Oh, really? Who’s the guy?” But all I got was a shrug.

“We don’t know, she hasn’t introduced him to anyone yet. We just assume that’s the case because she’s been skipping all of our meetings but when she does come, she giggles at her phone all the time.”

She used to do that with me. When we were all out and I’d text her something I couldn’t say out loud. I always found it adorable, and the idea of her giggling for someone else’s stupid jokes almost made me puke on the spot.

“It’s no wonder she’s been keeping him hidden, really,” Tyler continued, completely oblivious to what I was going through. “She always did like the bad boy types.”

That comment made me frown, thinking back on her exes. In all the time that we had known each other, she had only had a handful of boyfriends - but maybe those were just the ones she introduced me to. The only thing that they seemed to have in common was their absolute inability to treat her how she deserved to be treated, so while I didn’t necessarily think that she had a type, if there was one way to define them, it would definitely be as “bad”.

“Mind if I join you, boys?” A seductive and familiar voice came from behind me, instinctively making me stand up straighter before turning around.

“Oh, fuck…” I heard Tyler comment at the same time that I took in her costume, my eyebrows shooting up as he continued, “You look fucking hot!” and I spilled out, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Y/N frowned, looking down at her own clothing like she had honestly forgotten what it was that she was dressed into - a sexy, slutty version of my venom character, barely recognizable with the lack of fabric.

“I’m venom!” She excitedly exclaimed, looking up at me again with a huge grin. “I thought you’d be the first to recognize it. What kind of an actor are you, really?”

Tyler chuckled behind us, but I could only focus on the woman looking up at me, provoking all sort of conflicting feelings to course through my body. There was jealousy and longing, desire and possessiveness. All I knew was that I needed to get her in a secluded environment in the next five minutes, or I would publicly explode.

“Come here with me, will ya?” I took her by the elbow, effortlessly moving us through the crowd of our drunk friends until I found an empty room I could shove her in, paying no attention to Tyler’s low whistle as we left him behind.

Once the door was safely closed, I turned around to stare down at her, really taking in her outfit. “I thought you knew better than to tease me like this,” I chastised, clicking my tongue as a smirk painted my lips at seeing her shiver when my voice dropped. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, I could still pull a reaction from her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“We have quite a lot of things to discuss, little girl…” I bit my lower lip in an attempt to reel myself in and remain motionless, instead of just jumping on the man I was so desperate to feel up.

It’d been way too fucking long. Any time apart from Tom was already hard on me, but ever since we started fucking, any night I had to spend without his gorgeous body hovering over mine was particularly painful to me.

Which is why I decided to wear this “sexy” Venom costume. Even though he offered to meet me back in my place, I knew he missed his friends - our friends - and this way, we could get everything we wanted.

I just had to make his resolve crack so he’d pull me into the nearest bedroom and bang me five ways into tomorrow, and later we’d rejoin the party and mingle again.

By the way my night had been going, I could see I was very close to getting what I wanted.

Tilting my head to the side, the picture-perfect idea of the innocent little girl he always liked to treat me as, I asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Tom’s reaction was… surprising. His mouth fell open, his fists curled and he stood there watching me until suddenly he was all over me, pulling me to stand on my tiptoes so our lips could connect.

I moaned into the kiss, briefly forgetting about his odd behavior as the familiar taste of him invaded my mouth. “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned when we parted, leaving me almost dizzy with desire as I rapidly blinked a few times to be able to focus on him once more.

“What would your boyfriend think about you being locked up in a bedroom with me, wearing this, huh, sweetheart?” And now I was back to confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“Boyfriend?” I asked, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eye. Tom’s expression was inscrutable as he stared down at me with that fire in his eyes that never failed to make me shiver.

“Yes, boyfriend. Tyler told me all about it,” he commented, shrugging as if it was no big deal, yet his fingers pressed tightly against my hips, keeping me close to him. The anger was clear in every single one of his features.

I could read between the lines. I knew Tom like the back of my hand, through the years of friendship and now… whatever the hell this was. The hint of possessiveness was there, just threatening to take over, and my God was I desperate to see how it would play out.

“What did Tyler say?” I asked, looking up at him from under my eyelashes as I tried not to let my smile grow, so he wouldn’t catch up onto what was happening earlier than I wanted him to.

“That you’ve been skipping outings and whenever you do go, you’re always staring at your phone and giggling.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t giggle right then, turning away from him in the hopes of hiding my expression.

When I turned around once more, his eyebrows were raised. It was clear he wanted an explanation, so I cleared my throat and tried to speak as seriously as I was able to do at that moment.

“Oh, right…” I didn’t deny it, fiddling with some random knick knacks on the bedside table. “You mean… like I do when I’m talking to you?”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I watched as realization suddenly hit, and that’s when I couldn’t control myself anymore. I dropped to my knees before him, mouth watering just at the prospect of having that delicious cock of his deep in my throat, filling my mouth.

A beautiful blush spread over his chest as he panted over me, a sign of just how affected he was, with his lustful eyes watching my every movement when I started to suck on his member.

“What about the costume?” He asked, making me giggle when I pulled back to answer, but kept my hands working his cock, keeping him hard and ready for me.

“I just wanted to tempt you.” A growl escaped his chest, making me even wetter just as he reached for my hair and pulled me back to my feet.

“You should have reconsidered if you wanted my dick anywhere near you.” I whined when I realized what he meant. Even though I loved his punishments, I was aching for his cock, and he was right - I wanted it now. So maybe I should have thought twice before looking for this slutty venom costume just so I could rile him up. “Now I’m gonna have to spank the shit out of you.”

He bent me over the bed, pushing the cheap fabric of my clothing to my stomach and exposing my naked pussy to his gaze. “You’re such a whore,” he chuckled when he realized I had forgone any type of underwear, and I found myself rubbing my thighs to get some relief from hearing him call me names.

Should I feel bad that it got me so hot? Oh, well. There was really nothing I could do about it except hope he would take care of me eventually.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Witnessing her pleasure in being humiliated like this only added to my frustration. She really was the perfect woman for me, but instead of ravishing her like I wished I could do, I’d have to entertain myself with her delectable ass, all ‘cause she decided to behave like a slut to catch my attention.

“You look so delicious, darling,” I teased her by running my fingers over her pussy lips, gathering some of the nectar already threatening to spill from there. “It’s a shame you misbehaved.”

I let my hand fall over her right cheek then, startling her so I could hear her yelp. I knew she got off on the pain - it was another thing that I loved about her - but it wouldn’t be half as fun if she didn’t pretend this truly was a punishment, huh?

“Can’t reward that kind of teasing,” I kept admonishing her, slowly inserting a finger into her hole, frustrating the both of us further just so I could have her trembling in anticipation, trying to guess what type of touch I’d grant her next.

But I needed to get this show on the road so I could fuck her properly, so abandoning all type of play, I laid slap after slap on her ass, watching it bounce back after each spank, hearing her moans before they were drowned by the sounds of the party downstairs.

“Daddy!” She moaned, clinging to my thigh, making me even harder inside my jeans. She really did love getting her ass spanked, and I loved her ass, so I’d take any opportunity to get my hands on it.

“You know how long I’ve been dreaming of burying myself deep inside this pussy, little girl? Do you?” I snarled, hearing her whimpers like they were music to my ears. “And then you pull shit like this, and how the fuck am I supposed to keep myself together long enough to tame your bratty ass?”

Her thighs began to tremble, fingernails biting on the skin of my thigh. I knew what this meant, so I immediately stopped spanking her, pulling her by her hair so I could whisper in her ear, “I know you’re a whore, but no cumming before I have my dick inside of you, got it?”

She cried out at the authoritative tone in my voice, but I knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t done testing me yet. “You can’t control my orgasm,” she dared to fight me. “You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”

I clutched her throat, cutting off her air so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of her shit.

“Shut. Up.” Her eyes were wide when I threw her on the bed, pulling her by the ankles so her legs were dangling off of it, keeping her on her stomach as I unbuckled my belt.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” I complained as I climbed up her body and forced her legs open as wide as they could go, considering the position, and slid home. I knew it wouldn’t hurt her because she was already dripping, but I also knew she’d feel the stretch from being without me for so long.

Call me sentimental, but I didn’t feel like I had to ask to know she hadn’t been with anyone else, considering our previous conversation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You didn’t say shit like that when I had you over my lap, screaming for your daddy, huh?” He taunted, hand pulling on my hair once more as the other held my hips down, granting him the leverage he needed to fuck me against the mattress. “Or when I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk without feeling me for a week.”

That was a fun day. Memories of our last time together rushed through me, adding to my arousal, especially once I remembered how smug he was when I told him about my difficulties to walk during our weekly calls.

It was good to know he’d thought about it so much that it still lived in his mind, all those months later.

“Should have known I’ve owned you ever since I shoved my cock inside this tight little pussy, sweetheart.” I shivered when he whispered the warning against my ear, voice low and seductive like that night he took me in a bar’s bathroom before taking me home. It’d been the culmination of years of sexual frustration and dirty dreams, and I still thought about it every time I had to get myself off.

“How did you think this would go?” He questioned, incredulity clear in his tone. “Did you think you could fuck me until you were tired and then I’d let you go find a little boy toy you could control? Oh, no, darling.”

“There’s no going back anymore, little girl.” The threat had me coming around him, eyes rolling to the back of my head as the entire moment became too much for my poor hungry body to handle.

I’d always been known for biting off more than I could chew, but honestly, I’d rather die than waste the opportunity to be owned like this by Tom fucking Hardy.

“I’m not gonna leave this pussy, sweetheart,” he continued, like he was honestly telling me something that I didn’t want to happen. “Ever.” To drive his point home, he kept fucking me through my orgasm, pulling on my hair as my moans became whimpers and my hands bunched up the sheets of a stranger’s bed.

“It’s mine now.” With that, he pulled me back enough that he could meet my gaze, allowing me to witness him panting with his own pleasure, eyes darkened as he took in how my body folded to abide by his wishes. “You’re mine,” he announced, such firmness in his tone that any doubt that could have lived inside of me instantly disappeared.

I knew this wasn’t just dirty talk anymore. He was telling me the truth - he was warning me of a fact, now. My body belonged to him.

Still, I guess even he needed to be reassured from time to time, because the next thing to fall from his lips was a plead, “Tell me that you want me.” His cock kept plunging in and out of my cavern, caressing my oversensitive walls in that way I loved so much. “Say that you are mine.”

I didn’t even hesitate before granting him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m yours, daddy, all yours!” I cried out, entire body trembling underneath his,  desperate to make sure he heard me so he wouldn’t keep me away from my second orgasm of the night. “Oh, God!” I pleaded, fucking myself back against him. “Please don’t stop, daddy! Please!

Tom’s P.O.V.

“I’m not gonna stop, darling,” I assured her, hands caressing her back in an effort to calm her down. “Not until I feel you clenching around me.” A groan escaped me when I felt her do just that, and I didn’t know if it was on purpose or if another orgasm had hit her.

“Why would I ever stop fucking you?” I was babbling now, I knew - delirious with my own pleasure, trying to get her to cum one last time before me so she could milk my orgasm in that way only she knew how. “Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, would never leave you if I could.”

A strangled cry escaped her, right when blinding white bliss took over my sight and I pulled out just in time to stroke my release over her ass, grunting in the relief that followed.

“Fuck, I love you,” I whispered to the silence of the room before she turned around from underneath me, unworried about dirtying up the bed that didn’t belong to either of us.

Pulling me by my shirt, she whispered against my lips, “I love you more, daddy.”

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #tom hardy request #my requests #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Part 1 of my ‘House Dimitrescu’ series on Ao3. Just a little bit of fluffy comfort from our tall vampire Goddess. 

Only aware of the time due to the achingly empty spot beside you on the bed - you gauged that she had been gone for a couple hours already solely based on how cool to the touch the sheets were . It was easy to get lost in the wild fever dream that was now your life. Your body still sore from the night before, tender marks from her devious mouth decorating over every inch of you - a small sliver of moonlight dancing eloquently with the dim candle light of her room as you stretched. Even if someone had asked you just how long you had been at Castle Dimitrescu, you wouldn't have a single clue what to tell them. In all honesty, you could barely remember how you had even gotten there. This goddess of a creature - her general existence - was such an all encompassing force that there was no other way you could be other than completely enveloped when in the presence of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. Today, though, you could feel it. A deep ache in your chest that reminded you, just for a moment, that you had a life outside of this castle once. That there were a multitude of people out there who probably missed you, thought you were dead - or worse.

"Well, well.. you are certainly up quite early, my pet." The smooth tones of Alcina's voice - reminiscent of only the finest of leathers. The length of her entering the room as she looked you over, her brow slightly furrowed. "Did you not sleep well?"

You tried to remember a time that you had ever slept better than you did with that immaculate body pressed against yours, but not a single moment stood out to you. You sat up from your place on the bed, scratching over the shaved parts of your scalp as you yawned and shook your head.

"No.. I slept alright. I just feel.. I dunno.. a little.. off?" You replied, blushing slightly at the soft look of concern that skated across her face just for a moment. Her luminous eyes locking onto yours as she made her way over to the bed.

Fuck... just the way she walks sometimes.... You swallowed hard, always immediately disarmed by the sheer presence of her. Muddled ivory skin, perfectly imperfect in every way - rising and falling with each breath that Alcina took. The width of her glorious thighs spreading out deliciously as she took a seat next to you on the bed. Allowing her eyes to rake over you once more, the Dimitrescu matriarch cleared her throat before she spoke.

"So tell me, my sweet." She paused, moving in a little closer. Her strong pheromones wafting through the air as the full length of her frame leaned over you. "Just what has you so down on this night of nights."

You took a deep breath before trying to explain what you were feeling. You knew you should be happy - ecstatic, even - the night you would officially become a member of the House of Dimitrescu finally upon you - but you still couldn't help the deep ache you felt in your chest whenever you thought of home. Doing your best to hold back the tears that were burning for release, Alcina placed her hand on your thighs. Her eyes softer than usual as she listened to your worries. How was it even possible that this incredible, but inherently murderous woman, didn't suck you dry on the spot. Instead, she only listened. The deep tones of her hair shimmering slightly in that all too familiar stream of moonlight as your words began to taper off - voice cracking slightly as they did.

"I understand quite well, my pet, and though this is not something I would normally do - you are free to go, if you wish."

Your eyes shot up at her words, taken back by her generous offer. Everyone who had grown up in this area, knew all too well that the Dimitrescu family never let anyone escape from the Castle - but the way her eyes seemed to sift through your very soul as you held her gaze, was a feeling of home that you had never quite felt. Before you're able to stop yourself, you bring your hand to her jaw, cupping as much of it as you could. A look of surprise painted it's way across her sharp eyes before it settled into something softer - warmer.

"I have no intention of leaving here, my lady." You say with a soft smirk, slowly removing your hand from her face, the feeling of her skin remaining on your fingers long after like a charged currant.

“Such a delicious pet, aren't we?"

The devious smile that forms across that perfect face of hers, the subtle to deep lines that beautifully accentuated it. There was no other creature you had ever met that did the things to you that Alcina Dimitrescu could. Her soft satin sheets crumpling under her slightly as she shifted her body even closer to you. The tip of her hat looming over you like a safety net. Wrapping one strong arm around you, the gorgeous vampire pulled you up onto her lap and flush against her - your head landing right into her generous chest. FUCK .. An immediate flush spilling across your cheeks as visions from the night before played through your head, you cleared your throat before resting your head against her.

"And even more delicious when you are all flustered." Her low voice reverberating across your skin as she spoke. "Do you recall how exquisite I said you were.. when I first tasted you?"

As soon as the word 'tasted' left Alcina's perfect mouth, you could feel her heart begin to race. Your mind rapidly thinking back to the first night she drank from you. How her pupils dilated fully as your warm blood trickled down her elegant throat. That was the night your whole world had completely spun on its axis.

"Aah.. y-yeah?"

"Well, my pet.. I meant that in every sense of the word. You would make a fine addition to the House Dimitrescu." She paused, idly stroking your back with a single finger. "And.. needless to say.. I would be lying if I denied having grown quite fond of you. You will always have a home here in Castle Dimitrescu, if you so choose to have it"

You opened your mouth to speak, immediately shutting it - completely taken back by this charming women's words. *Okay, but she can’t just say things like that* ... With all conscious thought quickly leaving your body, you take the chance to snuggle into her a little closer, her other arm swiftly coming around you to meet the other. Her strong embrace instantly making you feel safer - calmer. You couldn't help but wonder if there had been another soul that she had ever allowed to see her in such a way - with most of her walls receded and an openness that was downright disarming. She sat there with you for a minute longer - allowing you both to linger in the warmth of the moment - before releasing you from her embrace - the lack of her warmth immediately noticeable - causing you to shiver.

"Now.. There are much preparations to be done, my pet. Shall we dress and head down to the girls?" She asked.

Your eyes locking onto her - the length of her gorgeous body rising from the bed as she straightened out her dress in one fluid movement. Seriously! How is she this hot? You gave her a small nod, hopping down from the bed. The specially tailored suit - complete with asymmetrical skirt - waiting for you exactly where you left it in the closet. The Dimitrescu crest proudly embroidered on the front of it.

"Oh.. and.. Alcina?"

"Yes, my pet?" She replied, stopping just short of crouching under the door frame.

".... Thank you "

She gave you a warm smile. "Of course, dear.. just keep in mind that I do have a reputation to uphold. It would be a pity if people knew I had begun to go… soft."

"Heh.. don't worry, my lady. Your secret is safe with me." You smirked.

"It had better be."

Her firm tone immediately sent a lightning bolt straight through your body. Fuck, this women is going to be the death of me, you think to yourself, your fingers skating over the soft materials of your outfit, but oh, what a fucking way to go.

#lady dimitrescu #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #fluff #fluffy #emotional comfort #house dimitrescu #the fluff before the smut

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Jughead//so much more

Request: So I'm kind of in a Jughead mood right now, so I was thinking Reader and Jughead have been friends forever and when becomes a Serpent he wants to protect her but she's stubborn; they argue about it and then someone yells "I love you" and it ends fluffy with kisses.

hey! i hope you like this! thank you for reading! 

“Guess who is officially a member of the Southside Serpents?” Jughead does a small spin as he walks through your front door and a soft smile appears on your face as you witness the very out of character action. However it doesn’t last very long when he starts rifling through the kitchen cupboards obnoxiously loudly. 

“Hmm, I dunno. Could it be the boy covered in cuts and bruises eating my food.”  

“Maybe.” He mumbles through a mouthful of cookies before dropping on the couch dramatically beside you. You huff at him teasingly while locking your phone and he grins back at you, a couple of crumbs falling from his mouth. “Do you want some?” He moves the packet towards you and you send him a look before snatching it from his hands. “Do you think I look good in my jacket.” He models for you lazily and you look him up and down before shrugging. 

“You look alright.” 

“Alright? Not handsome or badass or even a little sexy?” 

“Okay seriously, I never want to hear you say ‘a little sexy’ ever again.” 

“You didn’t deny it thoughhhh.” He sings and you shove the cookie you’re holding in to his mouth. He chokes slightly making you chuckle and him glare at you once he’s recovered. 

“You can’t be that badass if a cookie has just almost killed you.” 

“Whatever.” He shrugs. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound being both of you chewing. However you can tell Jughead wants to say something. One quick glance at him confirms your thought. His lips are parted slightly and his eyebrows are knitted together while he tries to figure out what to say. 

Over the years of your friendship you’ve learnt to let him figure out what he wants to say, there’s no point in asking him straight because then he rambles and you get no sense out of him. After a couple more minutes it seems he’s finally found the right words. But they aren’t what you expected.

“Y/n? Are you proud of me?” He asks and you look at him confused. 

“Of course I am. I’m always proud of you Jug.” You tell him seriously. “Plus, I always knew you’d join some sort of organisation. I’m just glad its a gang and not a cult.” You nudge him at the end making his chuckle quietly. 

“There’s always time. Who knows what my summers going to be like?” 

“Very true.” You hum. “If you do join a cult, can it be a nice one that lets me visit you?” 

“What makes you think you wouldn’t also be joining with me?” 

“...fair enough.” You nod. “So what are you going to do now that you’re in a gang? Spray paint some apostrophes onto grammatically incorrect graffiti?” 

“No.” He mumbles making you giggle. “That was my plan for the weekend.” 

“Aww.” You pout playfully at him. 

“Do you know how there’s countless of great things that have come from me joining a gang?” 

“You were only officially in like an hour ag-.” 

“One of them.” He interrupts. “Is that now I’m going to be able to look after you.” 

“What do you mean ‘look after me’?” You sit up and cross your arms over your chest. 

“The world’s a scary place Y/n. Especially here. I never felt like I was able to protect you before, but now that I’m in a gang...everything has changed.” His wide smile soon fades once he notices the way your looking at him. One eyebrow raised and a slight scowl on your lips. He knows that look. He’s seen that look countless of times, only this time he’s on the receiving end of it. 

“So you think you put on a leather jacket and now suddenly you’re my bodyguard?” 

“No. I-” 

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.” You start and he groans at the use of his full name. Yep...he fucked up. “You have known me my entire life. When have I ever needed you to do anything for me? Let alone ‘protect me’?” 

“I’m not saying that you need it.” Now he’s sitting up properly too, his arms crossed over his chest and both of you mirroring each other’s actions. “I’m fully aware that you could kick my ass and everyone else’s. Its just sometimes, somebody needs to look after you and I’ve never felt like I’ve been able to. Not properly anyway.” 

“So you joined the serpents to protect me?” 

“No.” He huffs. “Just...why are you so stubborn?!”  

“Coming from you?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Coming from me. You are quite literally the most stubborn person in the world. You always have been. Even when we were younger you were stubborn. And sometimes your impossible to be friends with.” 

“You think I’m impossible to be friends with? Have you ever tried being friends with you?” 

“We both know I hate myself. It’s my whole thing.” Jughead huffs and your annoyed expression disappears. 

He looks at you confused as to why you haven’t argued with him, but instead of being greeted by an even angrier expression, you’re looking at him with a face he can’t quite read. It’s sad, he knows that. And maybe a little bit disappointed, but there’s something else he just can’t quite figure out. Lucky for him though, he doesn’t have to dwell on it for too long because you start speaking again.

“I think it’s stupid.” You mumble.

“What?” He quirks an eyebrow. 

“I think it’s stupid that you hate yourself.” You say louder. The previous anger in both your tones has now fully disappeared, instead your quiet, unsure of what to say next. Unsure of what you want to say next. 

“Why?” 

“Because when I look at you, there’s literally nothing I hate. I can’t think of a single thing that anybody could even dislike about you.” 

“...” 

“In fact. I think its really hard not to lo-” 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” You ask, refusing to look at him. 

“I want to protect you.” He lifts your chin up gently. 

“Why?” 

“Because I love you!” 

The words he’s been wanting to say for years have finally managed to escape. He feels light and heavy all at the same time while he refuses to look at you. This wasn’t how he wanted to tell you, not in the middle of an argument. He always thought if he ever did manage to tell you, it would be sweet and romantic and very much out of character for him. But there’s just something about you that makes him act differently to how he usually is. He twirled when he walked through your front door for God’s sake.

“Ju-” You start, your tone is cautious and he can feel the anxiety crawling up his throat. The problem with words is when you’ve said them you can’t put them back. They’re out there forever, so he needs to pull this back. He wants to say he’s joking, or to just forget it. But as soon as he looks at you he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“I have loved your for as long as I remember. And I know so much about you. Like the way you smile when somebody remembers something about you, even if its just small. Or how you always make sure I get the last fry when we’re eating at Pop’s. When you laugh really hard at something you make that weird but cute little sound. Or how you always make sure nobody is ever left out of something. Or the particular way you eat your food. There’s literally so much I know and love about you. But something that is constantly on my mind is that is something ever happened to you, even if it was just a paper cut, I would blame myself for not moving the paper out of your way. You’re my best friend and so much more Y/n. You have been for years and I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in my life. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You reply, a nervous laugh leaving your lips as you smile at him. “If you hadn’t interrupted me earlier, you’d know that sooner and we could have been kissing right now.” You tease and he rolls his eyes. 

“See...stubborn.” He says playfully before kissing you gently. 

#jughead #jughead imagine #jughead x reader #jughead x you #jughead x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine #jughead jones #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones x y/n #jughead jones x you

[junicai]

peaches.

| summary | aria’s hiding something. lucas figures out what it is. (partly)

| word count | 4.1k

| warnings | mentions of physical abuse (not real)

| era | November 2019, SuperM World Tour

6. “Isn’t that, like. Illegal?” “Potentially.”

15. “Sh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

38. “Where did all those bruises come from?”

a/n: i was not intending on including this plot point so soon, but it really fit with the request and the next thing i knew it was written? so ill just leave this here to stew. first person to guess what’s going on, 10 points to ur house

Aria loved her job. 

Aria loved her job. 

Aria loved her job, but not when she was sore and aching, and the only thing that was on her mind was burrowing beneath her blankets and sleeping for sixteen hours. The bone deep exhaustion was not something new to be experienced, but she wasn’t sure if it ever got easier to endure. 

It was only two weeks into their official world tour and Aria had forgotten just exactly how taxing it all was on the body. Just yesterday, she’d taken a small spill across the stage - having not seen the protruding wire that was coming from the lighting at the front of the stage. Half asleep, her mind was elsewhere right up until the moment the world tilted and the floor came rushing up to meet her. 

Aria had caught herself with her left hand, stopping her face from taking the brunt of the fall but her wrist had twisted beneath her body as her elbow gave out under the abrupt pressure. 

Her cry had reverberated around the stadium and it wasn’t long before seven boys were coming around the stage curtains, making their way over with wide eyes. 

Ten had wrapped an arm around her shoulder to hoist her up from the ground as her wrist was bandaged - Aria had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but the red ring marking the skin left no room for arguments - and turned her head away from the darkening face of Baekhyun as he crouched down to ask what happened.

Glancing down at the now purple ring of bruises around her wrist, Aria sighed before reaching out to snag the roll of bandages from the countertop where she had put it after carefully unwrapping it from her wrist. She hadn’t wanted to get the wrappings wet under the shower head, but after struggling for a moment to put it back on, she realized that she probably needed a second pair of hands. 

Aria winced slightly, already anticipating the admonishing look she was going to get from Taemin for taking off the support so soon. 

She pulled at the towel wrapped around her body making sure everything was covered before bending over and tossing her hair over her shoulders. She caught the hair in an old t-shirt, wrapping it around once before standing upright and twisting the material onto the top of her head. 

Having flicked her had up so quickly, Aria shot out a hand to steady herself as the world spun slightly. She stayed stationary until the world came level again. 

As Aria sleepily shuffled out of the bathroom into her bedroom, she could have cried in relief when she saw Lucas sitting on the adjacent bed. 

Aria loved her members, that went without saying. But Lucas here meant she didn’t have to shuffle out into the main living area to find someone to help her rebandage her wrist. Lucas would do it for her, and he could never scold her - no matter how hard he tried. 

“Heyo,” Aria greeted, nodding her head at the lanky boy from across the room. “You mind giving me a hand?” 

Lucas looked up, before quickly looking down with a pained look. “You mind putting on some clothes?”

Aria laughed at his face, eyes shut tightly closed and facing the wall. She told him to wait a moment or two, before pulling the folded pajamas and hoodie (she was pretty sure it was Ten’s but at this point it could have been anyone’s) off the duvet cover and quickly pulling them on. The wet t-shirt that had wrapped her hair on top of her head fell to the floor, and Aria picked it up before throwing it into the small basket in the corner. 

“You can look now,” she teased, running her good hand through her damp hair.

Lucas turned back around with a scowl. “We talked about the towel thing, Riri.” 

“Correction: you talked about the towel thing. I laughed at your misery.” 

He glared at her from across the bed. The effect of his hardened stare though, was greatly reduced by the large yellow sweater that covered most of his body, and the way he had tucked himself in to a small ball shape on the end of the bed. “There was a good two and a half minutes of conversation, and I distinctly remember you saying that you’d be more careful.” 

“And I distinctly remember you saying that you’d be staying in the living room to watch Iron Man with Mark, yet here you are.” Aria countered, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“Yeah, like two hours ago!” 

“Well how was I supposed to know the movie had ended?” 

“Time perception?” 

Aria snorted. “You know I’m bad at that.”

“Well get better at it?”

“But Lucas,” Aria whined now, throwing herself to lie flat on the bed, “I’m in pain and that means I’m not focused. I’m injured doesn’t that automatically mean you have to be nicer to me now?”

“You’re in pain?” Lucas’ voice dropped a tone. 

Aria sat up rapidly, her head spinning slightly at the speed. “No,” She denied.

Lucas levelled her with a look before extending his hand out, turning to fully face her on the bed. His legs folded beneath him couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Show me how bad the bruising is again.”

She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but concern. Perhaps a tinge of the humor remained from their previous course of conversation, but it was quickly swept away with a blink. Relenting, Aria held out her left hand and looked away when Lucas inhaled slightly at the purpling skin. His hands were gentle, but Aria still hissed slightly at the contact.

“You took off the bandages?” his voice was softer now, as were his fingers as her carefully cradled her wrists. Aria shook her head lightly. 

“Nah, I just needed them off so I could shower. I wasn’t sure how they’d fair against a ton of deep-treatment conditioner, and I didn’t want them to go soggy or something.” Aria explained, still allowing her wrist to be held gingerly by Lucas. “It doesn’t actually hurt though, I was just teasing.”

“Where are they now?” Lucas questioned, dropping Aria’s wrist back to her own lap. “The bandages I mean.”

She gestured to the other bed in the room, where the beige-coloured roll sat on the pillow at the top of the bed. 

“I tried to put it back on in the bathroom, but..” Aria trailed off, waving her hands around to try and articulate herself without the words. She wasn’t sure if she had made much sense, but Lucas nodded all the same.

Without a word he pushed himself off the bed, socked feet padding across the floor to the other bed. He snagged the tail end of the roll, pulling it towards him before flailing slightly and just grabbing the body of the roll itself when it began to unravel.

He heard a muffled laugh from behind him, and turned to look at Aria over his shoulder. The girl was grinning behind her hand, facing away into the corner of the room. 

“Careful, or I’ll leave you to go tell Taemin-hyung why your wrist is un-supported right now.”

Aria promptly shut her mouth, pout naturally forming. 

Coming back over, Lucas nudged her over with his knee to make room for himself against the headboard. The clean bedsheets folded underneath him, and he settled himself comfortably with his legs spread slightly. Lucas pat in between his legs, motioning for Aria to come closer. 

“C’mere I’ll fix it. I wouldn’t leave you to hyung’s wrath,” he promised, a wide grin on his face.

Aria was still slightly untrusting of his smile, but her exhaustion won over her skepticism quickly and she shuffled up the bed to sit cross-legged in between Lucas’ extended legs. 

His hands were more careful this time - having learnt from the first experience handling her tender wrist - but he made quick work of wrapping back up the bruised area. Aria could see that he was concentrated on getting it right, only muttering a hold that or a is that too tight? once or twice before folding the tail ends into the precisely wrapped material.

“Where’d you put the safety pin?” he questioned, looking back over at the pillow on the other bed incase he missed it.

Aria left her injured wrist in Lucas’ lap, using her good hand to fish out the metal clip from the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing. She handed it to Lucas with a small smile, thanking him with a light punch to his arm once he pinned the strapping in place. 

“Oh my god I’m tired.” Lucas leant back onto the bed, letting his head bang against the wall with a resounding thud. Aria winced slightly at the sound, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind the minor brain trauma so she refrained from commenting. 

“Same. So so much same. Really just want to go to sleep right now, but if I don’t do something with my hair it’ll be horrendous in the morning, and I can’t deal with another scolding from the make-up noonas. Not twice in a week,” Aria complained, falling forward so her still wet hair fanned out over the duvet. 

“Want me to braid it?”

“You know how to plait hair?” Aria stayed lying down, eyes trailing over the cracks in the ceiling paint. 

“Yeah,” Lucas laughed slightly. “Kunhang wanted to see what he’d look like with little plaits, so I watched a few youtube videos on it.” 

Aria bent her neck at an angle to look at Lucas’ face with squinted eyes. “Promise you won’t make a bird’s nest of my hair?” 

Lucas looked at her with comically wide, sincere eyes and held up three fingers pressed together. “Scouts honor,” he nodded solemnly. 

Aria coughed out a laugh, kicking at him with her feet. “Oh my god how do you even know that, you’re spending too much time with Mark.” 

Lucas laughed with her, shoving her attacking legs away with ease. “Hey hey do you want me to braid your hair or not? I can’t do that if you break a rib.” 

Despite his words, the broad grin never left his face, and he never waited for an answer before Lucas was wrapping an arm around Aria’s waist and tugging her around to face the opposite wall, sitting in between his legs again but this time with her back to his chest. 

“Do you have a hair brush and a few hair ties?”

Aria nodded, reaching over the bed with a hand on Lucas’ knee to grab the aforementioned items off her bedside locker. She handed them back to him, before settling herself comfortably on the bedspread. 

True to his word, Lucas was actually quite good at braiding - Aria was nearly sure he was lying but the three even strands of hair didn’t slowly become a tangled ball of mess as he worked his way down her hair. In all honestly, it was quite relaxing, letting someone else brush out her hair as she sank deeper into the duvet cover as he braided the strands together with ease. 

Even despite Lucas’ hands calmingly carding through her hair though, Aria still shuffled back and forth, rolling her shoulders every now and again. At first, Lucas’ had deigned to ignore her small twitching, but after the seventh time she rolled her shoulders and nearly knocked the strands out of his hand, he stopped.

“Sh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re wriggling and it’s throwing me off.”

“Oh.” Aria looked at her hands. “Sorry, its just the hood - the tag is scratchy and its annoying.” 

“Ah,” Lucas nodded. “It kinda looks like someone tried to cut it off not gonna lie.” 

“It’s not mine, so I don’t care but it’s just annoying.”

“You want to take it off?” 

Aria froze a little, before deliberately untensing her muscles. Now would be the worst time to work herself back up, especially right after relaxing so much. But she wasn’t sure if she could take off her hoodie, the top she was wearing didn’t cover enough of her back, the scooping backline stretched out after years of wear.

“Riri?” Lucas’ voice prompted her out of her thoughts. 

“Hm? Oh- oh no it’s ok,” she fumbled, rubbing at the irritated skin on the back of her neck with a hand. “You’re almost done anyway, right?”

“I still have the other braid to do.” Lucas’ voice was confused now, hands resting on her shoulders. True to his word, only one of the two braids were completed, half of Aria’s hair pulled back neatly with the other half splayed across her shoulder. 

“Oh.” 

Reluctantly, Aria pulled herself out of Lucas’ hold slightly, turning to face him. “Yeah no that’s fine. I’ll just, grab a towel to cover my shoulders? So I don’t get my clothes wet.” 

Aria let out a breath of relief when Lucas’ nodded at her, seeming unsuspicious of her quick shift in mood. She slid off the bed gently, only letting her feet touch the floor briefly before she was reaching forward and snatching the towel from the adjacent bed.

Sneaking a short glance towards Lucas and seeing him distracted, she pulled  the hoodie quickly over her head. Aria wrapped the towel over her shoulders before he had time to look over at her, and held the two ends closely together as she shuffled back into the space Lucas had created again for her. 

He hummed at her, before resuming his methodic braiding process, fingers gentle and hands pushing her head to the side. Unlike before however, Aria couldn’t find it in herself to relax, fingers gripping the towel’s ends closely together in an iron grip. She was so concentrated on ensuring the towel hadn’t flipped up to expose her back, Aria missed the short double pat Lucas gave the top of her head to tell her she was done.  

In fact, she was so concentrated on making sure the towel didn’t slip from her grasp, Aria jerked away from Lucas when she felt him tug gently on the now soaked material. 

Lucas instantly moved away, hands held up. “Woah, chill. I just don’t want you to get sick, the towel is wet.”

Aria nodded, not really listening and moving to shuffle away from Lucas but he had mistaken her nod as an affirmative, hands pulling more insistently on the soaked material. 

This time, the towel slipped from Aria’s grasp, the same moment a gasp left Lucas’ mouth.

Time seemed to slow for a moment, ice trickling down Aria’s back, almost mocking her. She could feel the air around them drop several degrees, the happy, content atmosphere replaced with something else - something cold, something that seeped beneath your skin and stayed there. The air-conditioning didn’t help, goosebumps raising along the newly exposed skin, partially tanned but for the most part covered in purple and blue and green mottled colours. 

Bruises.

Everywhere.

Aria heard more than felt Lucas’ hands clench, an audible crack coming from his knuckles. His hands had retracted from Aria’s sides where they were before, bringing them to his sides in fists. 

“Aria.” Cold. 

No response.

“Aria.” A little more insistent this time.

Still, no response.

“Aria. Where did all those bruises come from?”

Aria inhaled sharply for what felt like the first time in hours. With a single intake of breath, time sped up to meet her, and she scrambled out from between Lucas’ legs, giggling nervously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, shaking her head. Her hands were already reaching for the discarded hoodie - itchy tag be damned - but Lucas had longer limbs and was a good deal faster. 

He snatched the hoodie from the end of the bed, standing up as Aria shifted her weight onto her back foot. Her eyes were looking over his shoulder, no matter how much he stared at her.

“Aria. What happened?”

She was wringing her hands in front of her, shuffling back and forth. “I - I can’t, it’s fine - it’s fine Lucas, don’t - don’t worry okay?”

Aria made towards the door, hoping that maybe she could crash in Taeyong’s room for the night, but Lucas’ hand on the doorknob dashed that idea into smithereens. His face was dark, darker than she’d ever seen it and when he turned to look at her his eyes were filled with a type of anger she hadn’t known he’d been capable of feeling.

“Miyazu Akari you tell me right now, what’s going on.” His voice was firm, body tense. “Is someone - Is someone hurting you?”

Aria froze for the nth time of the night. A disbelieving laugh broke its way out of her lips. “Oh, oh god no Lucas - that’s not what this is, I- I promise.”

Lucas only dropped his hand from the doorknob, coming to crouch in front of Aria on the floor. 

When had she sat on the floor? 

His face was stony, and Aria wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Was he angry at her? She wasn’t lying, he was just assuming things that weren’t true. She knew it looked like that, that’s why she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about it - she knew that this reaction was unavoidable without someone else there to back her up - oh god why did this have to happen right now, Aria was tired and she wanted to go to sleep but Lucas was still looking at her - his face was less stony now but Aria was too panicked to figure out what that meant - yes he’s definitely angry at her, please don’t let him get the hyungs, she’ll never talk her way out of it then, oh god oh god- 

“Riri,” his voice was quiet now, the fire in his eyes poorly masked by worry. “Riri, it’s okay. It’s okay, but I need you to breath. Can you do that for me? Can you breath?”

When had she stopped? 

Aria’s lungs expanded with a gasp, and she coughed on the first intake of air. Lucas only rubbed her back, tucking her face into his neck as she coughed her way through several more breaths - not letting go until he was sure her breathing had evened out again. 

Pulling back, Lucas’ eyes bored into hers, both hands on either side of her face to make sure she couldn’t look away. His legs were bent uncomfortably underneath himself, but he payed no mind to the ache in his knees. 

“Riri, it’s okay. If something’s happening it’s okay but I need you to tell me what’s happening so I can help. Or so I can get someone else to help. Who’s doing this?”

��No - no one,” Aria choked out, throat tight. Her hand banged against her chest as if to kickstart her lungs again. “It’s no one, it’s not that.” 

Lucas looked at her like she was lying. He definitely thought she was. 

God damn it, this was not how she wanted it to come out. 

“Aria you can trust me, I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you to -” Lucas began, being cut off by Aria.

“No, no I’m not. I’m not being hit by anyone, I promise, Lucas.” she looked him in the eye. “I promise.”

“Then what is going on?” 

Aria looked down again. “I just bruise easily, you know that.”

Lucas scoffed slightly, “I know you bruise easily Aria, but you literally look like you were body slammed into a wall.” 

A moment of silence. A flicker of horror. 

“Were you body slammed into a wall?”

“NO!” Aria near shouted, hands coming to cover her mouth in a gasp immediately afterwards. Both of them stilled, carefully listening out for any stirring of the other members.  

After a few seconds, hearing nothing, Aria allowed herself to relax minutely. Downside of hotel rooms meant thin walls, so it was truly a miracle that Aria’s shout hadn’t woken the others.

“I can promise you, no one is listening to us right now. So I need you to be honest with me, Riri.” Lucas’ voice had lost the cold edge to it, now filled with warmth and worry, like sickly sweet honey. 

Aria wanted to gag. She knew she couldn’t lie to him, not directly to his face.

“Can you please- I’ll explain in the morning. I’m tired, I’ll explain in the morning,” she tried.

“We have schedules all day tomorrow, I know full well you’ll avoid me all day and then room with someone else,” he countered. 

Aria could pick up the hurt radiating from his body. He thinks you don’t trust him.

She bit her lip, not letting go until the pink skin ripped beneath her teeth and the taste of iron filled her mouth. Damn, that was going to take forever to close.

“Lucas, I’m fine. I swear to you, I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m not buying it. Not when your back looks like that.”

Ok. Half truths.

“Remember the last practice I had with Dream before we left on tour?” Aria’s voice was unintentionally smaller, but she thought it might work in her favour - something proved correct when Lucas leant forwards on his knees. 

He said nothing, only nodded to assure her she was listening. 

“Well. Okay you have to promise you won’t get mad at anyone.”

“I promise.” 

That was absolutely too quick, he was so going to get mad. 

“Jeno and I, were. Messing, right? And- and he picked me up, like the way you guys do all the time, except this time he knew I was kinda down about leaving - just because I was going to miss them, yaknow? - and so when he picked me up, he was real careful about it don’t get me wrong but he picked me up and I don’t really remember what happened because it all happened so fast but-”

“Breathe.”

Aria took in a gulp of air. “Sorry.” 

Lucas nodded at her. It was rare to see him so serious. Aria hated it. 

“Jeno, like, flipped me? Over his shoulder, the fireman carry thingy. But he lost his grip and I think I slid or he tried to catch me and flipped me over fully but. I just kinda remember looking up at the practice room ceiling with my back really hurting.”

Silence. 

It hung in the air like something tangible, like you could take a knife to it. 

Aria wanted to.

“So. You’re telling, me, that you look like you got the life kicked out of you, because Jeno flipped you over his shoulder?”

Aria winced. “Yes.”

“That happened nearly two weeks ago, Riri. The bruises should have faded by now.” His voice was torn, like he wanted to believe her but there were too many questions left unanswered. 

“Well I-”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Lucas whipped his head over to her. 

Aria couldn’t meet his gaze, pulling at the hangnail on her right hand. “I knew it would land Jeno in trouble, and it wasn’t that big of a deal-” 

“Aria your back is black and blue-”

“I knew people were going to overreact and-”

“I’m not overreacting I’m just worried-”

Aria held up her hand, halting the conversation in its tracks. 

“Lucas.” the boy nodded slowly, giving her his full attention. 

“Lucas, I swear to you. I swear, you know I’d come to you if something was wrong. You know I would.” Aria began, voice soft. Her good hand crept forwards to hold Lucas’.

“I bruise easily, you know this. You once threw a cushion at me and nearly gave me a black eye.” Aria reminded him ruefully. “My back, is because I fell; which is Not Jeno’s Fault. We were both clumsy, and we both should have been more careful, but it was a mistake, and I’m fine.”

“But still, why didn’t you tell us?” Lucas cut in.

“You know exactly what Taemin-oppa is like when it comes to worrying. I think he would have made me sit the entire two weeks out. And you reacted like this, how would I have explained this to Baekhyun and Jongin-oppa? They would have taken the entire staff team hostage to interrogate them as to what happened.” 

“Isn’t that, like. Illegal?” 

“Potentially.”

Lucas laughed. It was a nice sound, a sound that rang out through the stale-atmosphere in the room. It brushed away the tension, only leaving that in Lucas’ shoulders and the worry creased into his eyebrows. 

Aria shuffled closer to Lucas, both still sitting cross-legged on the floor. She tucked herself into his arms, knowing that it was both for her comfort and for his. 

“I’m right here, Xuxi. No one’s done anything to me. I’m right here.”

Lucas exhaled quietly, arms tightening around Aria’s body minutely. She could tell he was being mindful of her back now - the presence of the bruises still fresh in his mind. A few words were muttered into her hair, muffled.

Aria hummed, pulling away slightly.

“You trust me right?” Lucas’ voice was wavering slightly.

“110%.”

“Okay. Okay, okay. That’s okay. You’re okay.” Lucas seemed more like he was talking to himself moreso than anything else. 

“We’re okay.”

“Ari-ah?”

“Yes?” 

Aria padded into the kitchen, seeing Taeyong standing there with a small white box in his hands. He turned, and upon seeing her - held out the box for her to take. 

Aria nodded in understanding, hands moving to take the box of medication from her leader’s grip. She turned it over in her hand, eyes scanning the blue label before she looked back up to Taeyong’s eyes. 

They were kind, but around the edges there was a small colouring of pity. 

Aria hated that he gave her the same look each month. 

Nodding in thanks, she spun on her heel, going to put the box in the far corner of her chest of drawers.

On the box, the letters:

 DDAVP, vWF 

#*aria.writings #cassia: i hate eyes #also cassia: EYESEYESEYESEYES #this was not meant to be this long #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member #nct additional member #nct dream 8th member #nct #kpop!oc #kpop addition #kpop additions #nct additions #nct addition #nct extra member #nct female member #nct female member au #nct female oc #nct 2020

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Jairsolas

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Six

A JSE Fanfic

*gasp* A POV change?! For the first time in this story?! How exciting! Yeah short description because I’ve had a long day as of queueing this, but basically we follow Marvin as he tries to track down the King. But instead, along the way, he meets someone new. And that’s all I have to say. Hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The noble family Portmota lived on the edge of the Southern Moors, their castle built on the last bit of solid land before the rivers came in and flooded the south of the kingdom. Officially, their claim covered all of the Moors, but everybody knew that the Moors ran on their own, much like the mountain villages to the west and north. But the meagerness of their claim didn’t stop the family from building themselves a solid, grand castle. It sat on top of a small hill, surrounded by a thick stone wall. The castle’s multiple towers reached the sky, and were numerous to require a large staff to keep the place running for the noble family and any visitors they might have.

With such a large body of servants, it was easy to slip in unnoticed. They always accepted help, and as long as you didn’t appear troublesome, they’d immediately snatch you up and put you to work the moment you asked for a position, no interview needed. 

This was something Marvin found out first hand when he decided to infiltrate the castle in preparation for the King’s visit.

Maybe they needed help to clean up for said visit, maybe they were always like this, the result was the same either way. All Marvin had to do was show up on the grounds, dressed in ragged clothes, and he was immediately hired by the head servant. She didn’t even mind when he said he had to keep his cat nearby at all times.

Once he was inside, it only took him a few days to get a scope of things. Normally his sense of direction was terrible, but the servants were always being sent on numerous chores, so the castle’s layout quickly solidified in his mind. The cleaning and cooking was...hard, he had to admit. Unlike Jackie and Schneep, he hadn’t grown up doing chores, and taking care of things was a relatively new skill. He went to bed in the servants’ quarters exhausted. But this was a small price to pay for the opportunity that had presented itself.

He began to notice odd things about the castle. First of all, effort was put into cleaning and clearing every room in every wing, even the ones that had been sealed off so the heat wouldn’t escape into the winter air. Every candlestick was being polished, every tapestry dusted out. Why all the work? Unless...there was something big happening.

There were also a lot more people wandering around the castle. Visitors. Nobility, to be specific. An oddly high amount. Not that the nobility didn’t like to go see each other, especially for parties, but the Portmota claim was currently home to just one person: the Marquess Portmota, the eldest member of the family. Marvin knew all the other Portmotas were either traveling, or had married into other noble families and now lived with them. There were far too many visitors in the castle for one woman to entertain, even for something as important as a Longest Night celebration.

Not to mention the rumors circling through the servants’ ranks. News spread fast through this network, and soon, maids, cooks, and gardeners were muttering to each other about the King himself visiting.

Marvin tried not to get too close to any of these servants. It would just...get in the way. Sure, many of them were friendly to him, offering to share lunches or spend their breaks with him. But...no, it wouldn’t work out. It couldn’t. Besides, he didn’t need them. All he needed was his familiar, Draco.

He’d been in Portmota Castle for a week when the rumors started to buzz. The cleaning suddenly intensified, and the visitors to the keep began strutting about in their finest clothes. One night, to confirm his suspicions, he asked a laundress named Mina what was going on.

“Huh? You mean you haven’t heard? You haven’t seen?” Mina glanced about the laundry room where she was busy working. Seeing nobody else nearby, she leaned close to Marvin and whispered, “They’ve seen the King! Here!”

Marvin’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Really? Why would he be here?”

“Why would he be here? For the Longest Night celebration!” Mina chuckled. “Elders, Westley, you can be oblivious,” she said, calling him by the fake name he was going by.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Marvin glanced down at the floor. Draco was batting at a loose sleeve dangling from a laundry bin, so he quickly bent over and scooped him up before the cat could knock the whole thing over. “Who saw him? How’d they know it was the King?”

“A couple people. Teresa, Connor, Kelley. They saw a man fitting his description walking around, with the brown hair and slender build, and Teresa pointed out he was walking very purposefully. Dressed finer than all other lords who’ve come to visit.” Mina dumped some of the laundry into a washbasin as she talked. “Kelley got really close to him, too, when they were serving food in the hall. They said he had the royal green eyes.”

“Royal green. Wow.” Marvin pretended to be in awe, and made sure not to show off any of the burning anger smoldering inside him. “If he’s the King, where’s he staying? I don’t think any room here would be noble enough for him.”

Mina shrugged. “Nobody’s said yet. There are a whole bunch of new rooms made up for the visitors, hard to tell. It’s not like he’ll be hanging the royal crest on the door.” She glanced about the room again, then nudged Marvin’s shoulder with some urgency. “Oh no, Ursula is coming. Better get out of sight before she demands you stop standing around and start working.”

“Right.”

That conversation was abruptly cut short, but Marvin got a lot of information from it. Namely, that the King really was here. The detail about the royal green eyes sealed it. Yes, the royal family were once known for their distinctive shade of green eyes, but none of them had actually been born with the color in recent generations. Until the current king. Something like that wouldn’t be forgotten easily. Now the question was how to get close to him.

He spent two days trying to figure out which room the King was staying in, but in the end, the answer fell right into his lap.

It was early morning, and he was in the kitchen, kneading bread for the day. It was a task he often volunteered for; something about the kneading motion was very calming to him. Even if Draco wandered around and tried to get under the feet of every grumbling chef and baker.

With no warning, the door suddenly flew open, and a voice called, “Any of you lot free for a quick delivery?!”

Everyone looked over in unison. It was Ursula, the head servant. “Depending what the delivery is!” answered Everett, the head cook.

“We need a breakfast tray prepared quick!” Ursula demanded. “It’s urgent!”

The chefs and bakers muttered amongst themselves. “How urgent is it?” Everett asked.

Ursula huffed. “Very. One of the lady’s important guests ordered it. And we don’t wanna upset him.”

Marvin’s head shot up. Could it be...?

“Alright, don’t get your skirt twisted, Helendaugh,” Everett muttered, rolling his eyes. “We’ll make one up. But you’ll need someone else to bring it up. We’re all busy here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“No one else can bring it up! They’re all busy too! Sure, I could scout around for someone, but that’ll take too long! Do I need to repeat that he ordered it urgently? Or that we can’t upset him?”

Marvin slowly raised his hand. “Um...sir? If you give me a minute, I’ll be finished. I can do it.”

Everett gave his kneading station a once-over, then nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that’ll be just enough time to make up the tray. See, Ursula? Westley can do it, no problem.”

Judging by the tightness of her face and the way she was wringing her hands, Ursula still thought there was a problem. But she stepped back. “Okay. Westley, you’ll want to head up the central tower, all the way to the top room. Knock on the door, but don’t wait for a reply. Open it and slide the tray right in, then close it and leave.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Make sure you do. This is very important, for a very important guest.” Ursula took a few more steps back, right out the door. Then she shut it behind her.

Some time later, Marvin was practically running through the halls of Portmota Castle, Draco at his heels. The central tower was quite far away from the kitchens. Though...a tower room was odd. Most nobility preferred to stay in the keep itself, since towers got drafty, and walking up and down the stairs was rarely worth the view. Maybe the King was different? Eh. It didn’t really matter. The King wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy that tower room.

Marvin stopped at the base of the central tower, breathing heavily. He quickly glanced around, but luckily, the area was clear of any servants or noble visitors. Good. He needed to be quick. He slid over to the wall and knelt down, putting the tray of food on the floor. There was a floor-length tapestry nearby, and he pulled it over his shoulders, partially hiding him from view.

Then he reached under his shirt and pulled out a pendant on a chain. A beautiful pendant, with its smooth, palm-sized emerald and silver frame looking too expensive for the rusted chain it hung from. Even though wearing it might give him away, he couldn’t bear to part from his magical focus. A wizard without a focus was like a painter without their paint. They couldn’t do anything without it.

Quickly, Marvin pressed two fingers to the surface of the emerald, which immediately started glowing. When he pulled his hand away, the glowing light stuck to his fingertips. He drew a rectangle on the ground with his fingers, leaving light behind like chalk on a board. Once the rectangle was fully formed, the middle of it faded away. Now, Marvin was looking at the inside of a small box. And inside the box were a few things. A small dagger, a bottle of brown glass, a coil of thread, a white handkerchief, and a candle. Marvin plucked the bottle out from the box. He reached for the breakfast tray—swatting Draco away in the process with a “No, not for you”—and pulled it closer. Then he unstopped the bottle, poured a few drops of the liquid inside onto all the food items, and stopped it again, putting it back inside the small box. Once the bottle was back in place, the glowing rectangle disappeared. The floor reappeared as solid stone once more, with no sign of the magical box that had just been there.

“Good,” Marvin said, grinning to himself. He pulled away the tapestry, picked up the food tray, and stood up. “Now for the most difficult part...the stairs.”

That statement was a joke—a joke for no one, really, since Draco was the only one around and he didn’t really understand human humor—but Marvin was definitely winded by the time he reached the room at the tower top. No matter how often he walked up stairs, no matter how frequently he’d done so in the past week, he still hated them. Maybe that said more about how fit he was than the design of the stairs themselves. Which made no sense, he’d spent the past few years running around the kingdom, surely he’d be more fit by now?

He was getting distracted. The room door was in front of him. Wooden. A fine door, but no more fine than literally any other door in the castle. Yet...the King was inside.

Following the instructions, Marvin knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a reply before easing it open and setting the tray down on the floor inside. Draco almost poked his head through the gap, but Marvin pushed him back, then closed the door.

He waited for a few minutes. Expecting to hear movement inside. But there was nothing. Well...the room must have thick walls, then. With his task accomplished, Marvin turned back and headed back down the stairs, which proved much friendlier on the way down.

That poison worked quickly. By that night, they’d hear news of the King’s assassination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

But that was not the case.

Marvin waited with anticipation, but nothing happened. There was no outcry of poison, no panic as the King’s lackeys were left unsure what to do. Things proceeded as normal. Leaving him confused. He was sure he got the dose right, and he’d made sure to poison all of the food on the tray. Hadn’t he?

The next morning, the exact same thing happened. Ursula barged into the kitchen, demanding a breakfast tray for an important guest. Everett said everyone was busy, and Ursula repeated the urgency. So, Marvin volunteered to deliver it again. Once he was alone, he took the poison from the hidden box and again dosed the food, making sure to add a bit more this time before putting the poison back and delivering the food to the top of the tower. He even had to push Draco back from the door again.

But still, nothing happened.

And when the same thing happened the next morning, Marvin was about ready to shout out “Am I going mad?!” But he didn’t, and instead played it cool. This time, Everett asked him to take the tray up ahead of time, expecting him to be able to. And of course, Marvin agreed, and secretly added even more of the poison. And of course, Draco once again tried to squeeze into the room at the top of the tower. Honestly, Marvin felt he should have more control of his familiar, but given how cats were impossible to order around under normal circumstances, he took Draco even listening to him as a plus.

When nothing happened the fourth day, Marvin began to suspect something unusual was going on. Perhaps someone tampered with the poison? No, that should be impossible. That box was buried in the ground, far away from Portmota Castle. He could only access it because of his magic. But...maybe? If he tried again today and the King still did not die, he’d try a different method.

So once more, he took the breakfast tray when offered, headed to a private area to get the poison out of the box, added yet more of it to the food, and trekked up the stairs to the room at the top of the central tower. He knocked on the door, then without waiting for a response, opened it to slide the tray inside.

And the instant the opening was big enough, Draco leaped through the gap and into the room beyond.

“Draco!” Marvin cried out, dropping the breakfast tray. Without thinking about what to do next, he threw the door open and rushed inside to scoop up his cat.

But of course, there was someone in there. Someone who’d been startled by the sudden appearance of an off-white cat, but was even more surprised to see someone run into the room after it.

Marvin skidded to a halt, looked around, and before he could even think about it, blurted out, “You’re not the King.”

The person inside slowly shook their head.

“Oh.” Marvin took a step back. Now that he wasn’t worried about his familiar jumping into the hands of the King, he gave the stranger inside a once-over.

The person—Marvin now recognized him as a man—looked a bit like the King, at a first glance. He had brown hair, as most people in the kingdom did, and was fairly thin. But he was shorter than the King was said to be, had a distinct, dark mustache, and most importantly, blue eyes. Not green. His clothes were fine, indicating nobility, but the style was a bit old fashioned. Like the black bow he wore around his neck, something that had gone out of style at least ten years ago.

Draco was sitting on a stool next to the man, looking very self-satisfied. Evidently, the strange man had started petting him right before Marvin barged in.

“Well...sorry, then,” Marvin said awkwardly.

The man smiled and shrugged. He gestured to Draco.

“Huh? Yes, sorry about him. And about barging in, I wasn’t thinking.” Marvin glanced around the room. “So...is the King going to be back soon?”

The man tilted his head, puzzled. And shook his head.

“Why do you look so confused?” Marvin took a minute to think. Then a possibility occurred to him. “Wait...is the King...not staying in these rooms?”

And the man shook his head again.

“Damn it,” Marvin whispered, barely audible. 

Honestly, looking around the room, he didn’t think this place was fit for a king, anyway. Certainly, it was noble. There were plush sofas and chairs sitting about, and a desk with a mirror and stool in the corner. The windows had thick blue curtains that one could pull over to cover the glass. And he could see two more doors, both slightly ajar and showing a bedroom and a bathroom. But...it was rather small, in all honesty. The furniture was pushed together, and the blue wallpaper looked a bit old. Not to mention it was cold, as well, with no fireplace. Marvin wished he’d thought to bring a cloak, but the one he owned was too fine, and he had to leave it behind while masquerading as a servant.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” Marvin said politely. “They said someone very important was ordering the breakfast trays so—wait, have you been eating that food?”

The man looked embarrassed, and shook his head again.

“No? Well it couldn’t just disappear.”

Now even more embarrassed, the man pointed towards the bathroom.

“You’ve been...dumping it in the lavatory?” Marvin realized, shocked. “Every day? Well no wonder you look so thin, then, if you’ve been skipping breakfast the whole time.” He then remembered the tray of poisoned food he’d brought, and dropped in the hallway. “Oh. But ah, might have actually been a good idea this time. I mean, the—if I’m being honest, it was all undercooked, anyway,” he lied. “And the one for today is all splattered now. Sorry.”

The stranger smiled good-naturedly. He nodded.

“Um...I’ll just leave now.” Marvin took a few steps backwards towards the door.

Hurriedly, the man shook his head, gesturing for him to stay. Meanwhile, Draco pressed his head against the man’s arm, demanding pets.

“Oh. Right. Draco, come on.”

Ears drooping, disappointed, Draco hopped off the stool and walked out the door. “Sorry about all this,” Marvin muttered, backing fully out of the room and pushing the door closed.

As it shut, he could have sworn the man inside had a very strange expression on his face. Something like disappointment and desperation mixed in one.

How...odd. Marvin hesitated, wondering if he should go back inside. But...maybe he’d misread the man’s face. That was far more likely than...whatever he just saw. Yes. He should turn his mind to more practical matters. Like where the King was actually staying, if not here. And getting someone to come up and clean the tray he’d dropped.

But as he retreated back down the stairs, he felt somehow regretful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, the order for a breakfast tray came in, as usual. Marvin wasn’t sure about delivering it, but by this point, he’d volunteered enough that Everett and Ursula expected him to. After all, it was much easier to have one person do something than to constantly find someone new every day. So Marvin quietly took the tray and headed to the central tower once more. This time, he did not stop to poison the food along the way. Now that he knew the King wasn’t there, it wasn’t much use.

When he knocked on the door, it swung open before he could pull it open himself. The strange man from the day before was standing there, smiling and practically bouncing with excitement. He immediately grabbed Marvin and dragged him into the room.

“Whoa! Watch out, you’ll spill the milk!” Marvin quickly set the breakfast tray down on the nearby desk, making sure nothing had fallen off. He didn’t want to make another mess.

The strange man didn’t respond to that comment. He was kneeling on the floor, petting Draco. Much to the cat’s delight, of course. There was a lot of purring.

“Why’d you do that?” Marvin asked. “Pull me in, I mean. If you want to know if the breakfast’s good to eat this time, it is. I...um, checked. Did you just want to pet my cat?”

The man made a so-so gesture.

Marvin suddenly felt frustrated. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?!” he snapped.

At that, the man stopped. He looked over at Marvin, then stood up. He was wearing another neck bow today, blue this time, and he silently pulled it down so that his neck was more visible. There, right in the middle of his throat, were two scars, arranged in a + shape. Clearly the result of some sort of surgery.

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach immediately sank. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

The man waved away his stammered apology with a small smile. It was clearly a sensitive subject, but since it was an accident, all was forgiven.

“Still, I...I’m very sorry. Ah...do you have something to write with, maybe?” Marvin suggested tentatively.

The man shook his head. He did that a lot, didn’t he?

“...nothing at all? What about in this desk?” Marvin wandered over to said desk, opening the drawers. But the man was right. There weren’t any quills or chalk to be seen. There wasn’t even any stationary, and Marvin knew that nobles were fond of keeping their own personalized paper nearby in case writing was needed. Instead, the desk’s drawers were mostly empty, only containing a few game boards and card decks.

As Marvin looked through the drawers, the man walked over to stand next to him, watching. When Marvin opened the drawer with the cards inside, he reached forward and quickly snatched up one of the decks. He turned to Marvin, grinning, and pointed at him, then at the cards.

“You...want to play cards?” Marvin asked, trying not to sound excited.

The man nodded.

“Well...I’m supposed to have chores, but why not?” Marvin grinned as well. “I have to warn you, I’m very good at Luck of the Deal.”

That only made the man smile wider. He guided Marvin over to the sofas and gestured for him to sit.

A couple hours passed before Marvin remembered he had more to do. Not just chores, but he also had to locate the King before the Longest Night celebration, after which he’d leave and return to Suilthair, the capital, and be untouchable. So Marvin hurriedly excused himself, but found himself leaving with a certain spring in his step. It had been a while since he’d sat down and played a few card games with someone. He...really missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, he and the man in the tower developed a routine. Marvin would take a breakfast tray up to the room, and the man would drag him inside for a few games. Cards, mostly, though they pulled out some of the board games, too. The breakfast tray would be mostly ignored, though Marvin tried to insist that the man actually eat it. The stranger was on the thin side, after all, he probably needed a meal. A bit odd to see a skinny noble, actually. They could definitely afford enough to eat. But Marvin wasn’t going to ask, in case it was sensitive, like the voice issue.

There were, however, other questions that he wasn’t afraid to ask. The first one came up on the second day of this routine. They’d finished their first game of cards—Enchanter’s Gambit, a shorter one—and Marvin had asked, slowly, “Can you tell me your name? I understand you can’t speak it, but there has to be something I can call you.”

The man paused in shuffling the cards, thinking. Then he set down the deck, stood up, and walked over into the bedroom. A few moments later, he returned, holding something. He handed it to Marvin.

“A handkerchief?” Marvin asked, turning it over in his hands.

The man pointed to one of the cloth’s corners. Marvin examined it, and saw a small design embroidered in gray thread. A rabbit, curled up and sleeping, surrounded by a circle of thorny plants. It was the sign of a noble family. But not just any family. One Marvin instantly recognized.

“That’s the Jairsolas crest,” he gasped. “But—that’s—a-are you a friend of theirs, or...?” He trailed off, not needing to finish his question. The man’s grim expression confirmed everything. “That’s...impossible,” Marvin whispered. “They’re all dead.”

More specifically, they’d been massacred. By the King and his forces.

The death of the Jairsolas family had been one of the earliest signs of how dangerous the King was. The Count and Countess Jairsolas had ruled over the small family peacefully, loved by the people of their land. When the King began demanding more warriors, when he began taking away royal funds from medicine and farming, they were one of the nobles who protested. Eventually, they refused to enact his royal decrees in their northern territory, saying they would not compromise the welfare of their people. They accused the King of swiftly becoming a tyrant. The King immediately proved them right by forcibly invading their land and killing the entire family.

And yet, even after this clearly unwarranted act, there were still nobles out there who stood by the King. There were still warriors who pledged loyalty to him and believed in his cause. There were even common people who repeated that the King was just and good, though that was usually because they were simply unaware of what was going on. The nobles and warriors, however, had no excuse. They continued to fawn over the King and happily harm innocents. It made Marvin sick just thinking about them.

“I’m...so sorry,” Marvin said quietly.

The man nodded slowly, sadness flashing in his eyes. He must’ve been a more distant relative, to survive the King’s attack. Marvin, unsure what to do, placed a hand on his arm, hoping the gesture would convey the sympathy he felt. The man patted it, and smiled a bit, indicating it was alright.

“Jairsolas is a bit cumbersome,” Marvin said slowly. “Can I call you...Jair? For short?”

The man nodded, eagerly accepting the nickname. He pointed at Marvin, raising an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m M—I’m Westley.” Marvin remembered his pseudonym just in time, and quickly changed the subject. “Want to play another round?”

For someone who couldn’t speak, Jair was very expressive, gesturing widely and exaggerating his facial movements. Marvin assumed that was necessary, to compensate for not being able to say anything. Though it was odd that there were no writing utensils or parchment in his room. That seemed like it would be helpful, and easy to acquire, too. But Marvin didn’t want to push the issue. Maybe it was just a preference. Or maybe Jair assumed Marvin, appearing to be a servant, couldn’t read much.

Despite the issues of communication, Marvin proceeded with his questions. About eight days after the first breakfast tray delivery, he got tired of Jair continually ignoring the breakfast. That was perfectly good food going to waste. “Why do you even order the trays if you don’t want to eat them?”

Jair looked up, a bit surprised to be asked this while the two of them were in the middle of a game of Fidchell. He indicated himself, then shook his head.

“You...you mean you’re not the one ordering them?” Marvin asked, confused.

Jair nodded, confirming this, and looked back down at the board, moving a piece.

“Wh—how’d you do that?!” Marvin spluttered, momentarily distracted. “I was going to move one of the warriors there—you just cut off my path!” He scanned the board. “How did you surround my king again?!”

Jair laughed silently, a breathy sound, clapping his hands in delight at winning another game.

Marvin scowled. Draco promptly jumped onto the sofa and knocked over the board, scattering the pieces. “Yea, take down that game. I’m shit at it, apparently.” He sighed, and grabbed the cat, moving him to the side. “Who’s ordering the breakfast trays, then? Can you tell them to stop? It’s enough work as it is.”

Shaking his head, Jair pointed at Marvin.

“I could find some other way to get up here.” Marvin paused, noticing Jair’s slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he went about collecting the knocked-over game pieces. “Can you...not tell them to stop?” He thought about it for a moment. “It must be someone higher ranking than you, then. That would make sense, and it would explain why they always said someone important ordered the trays. Heh. Is it the King?”

Marvin asked the question jokingly, but for a moment, Jair’s shoulders stiffened. Then he brushed off the question, laughing without sound again.

That...couldn’t be right, could it? Why would the King go out of his way to order breakfast for some random noble? And one related to the Jairsolas family, which he destroyed? It didn’t make sense. There must be some sort of lie or trickery involved. Maybe it wasn’t actually the King. Or the King didn’t know Jair’s true identity. Or Jair didn’t know what happened to the rest of the family. Something like that.

Either way, Jair was quickly putting away the Fidchell pieces and board, clearly wanting to move on. So Marvin dropped the subject for the day.

But he still needed information. The King was somewhere in the castle. Other servants had caught glimpses of him, but Marvin still hadn’t figured out where he was staying, or run into him at all. Longest Night was approaching. He was running out of time. So, he decided to ask Jair a few more questions.

“Have you seen the King around?” he asked one day over a game of Saelan checkers. “Apparently he’s in the castle for the celebration, but I haven’t seen the tail of him. Others have, though. What bad luck, huh?”

Just like the last time he brought the King up, Jair stiffened, and immediately denied anything with a shake of his head. He pointed to the board.

“Right.” Marvin moved one of the small stone balls that served as pieces, getting closer to the end goal at the other side of the board. He wasn’t too good at board games, preferring cards, but he was better at this than he was at Fidchell. “I suppose I shouldn’t assume you’d know, anyway. I was just curious. I’ve never seen him. Does he really have green eyes?”

Jair nodded, distracted by planning out his next move.

“It’s strange that none of us know what room he’s staying in. That’s why I assumed he was staying here, ha.” Marvin watched Jair’s face as he continued to talk. “Is he even staying on the castle grounds? I know it’s traditional and all, but I don’t know if anyone would stop him.”

Jair shrugged. This time, his response didn’t seem like avoiding the question, but genuinely not knowing.

“Do you...I’ve never seen you out in the castle,” Marvin realized. “Do you stay in these rooms the whole time?”

Squirming, Jair didn’t answer, instead focusing on jumping one of his pieces over two of Marvin’s, capturing the last one.

“That’s not good for you. Staying in all the time, I mean. Especially when you don’t have a fireplace here. And it looks like an old room, you’re probably breathing in dust all the time. You don’t have to go out and make conversation with others, or even go outside, but just walk around. Do you even go to the main hall for dinner?”

Jair leaned back and looked away, folding his arms.

“Oh. Sorry, I...didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Marvin said. “I was just...worried, I suppose. You don’t eat breakfast, you don’t go out, you don’t have a fireplace...it’s just...worrying. I’m...worried about...your health.”

Despite the clumsiness of Marvin’s statements, Jair looked touched. He patted Marvin’s hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Marvin said reluctantly. “Try to take care of yourself, though.”

Jair placed his hand over his heart, suddenly emotional. He nodded, smiling. 

Had...no one ever said anything like that to him before? Had no one looked after him? Marvin felt something stirring deep inside his chest. A familiar ache. He’d...he’d never someone he could...well...relate to.

Marvin was supposed to ask more about the King, but he found he couldn’t go through with it today. He would try again tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, Marvin arrived at the tower room a bit later than usual. It took them a bit longer to cook it today, since there was more food than the previous times. He hoped that meant Jair was planning to actually eat it, and not just feed pieces of sausage to Draco the whole time.

He knocked on the door, waited for a few moments for Jair to open, but when he didn’t appear, Marvin pulled open the door himself and walked inside. Huh. Jair wasn’t actually in the room. The bedroom and bathroom doors were closed, so maybe he was doing something in there. “Hello? I’m here,” Marvin called as he set the tray down on the desk. Something brushed against his legs, and he looked down to see Draco curling around his legs. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” Draco didn’t usually stick close to legs, not after too many occasions of people suddenly moving and tripping over him. And his tail was standing straight up, the fur all puffed out.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Jair walked out. He waved at Marvin the moment he saw him.

“Tthere you are. I was wondering why you didn’t open the door.” Marvin glanced back down at Draco, still on edge, then back up. “Is everything alright?”

Jair nodded, waving away the question. He then walked straight over to the desk and started rummaging around the drawers, pausing for a moment to gesture at Marvin.

“Oh, I don’t want to do anything specific today. Maybe more cards?”

Nodding again, Jair pulled out one of the decks. While he walked over to the sofa and began shuffling, Marvin glanced around the room once more. Nothing looked out of place...what had Draco so spooked? He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, looking out the glass at the scenery. Clear skies ahead. On the ground below, there were...a lot of people in the surrounding open-air keep. More than he saw on the way over to the tower. That wasn’t too unusual, though. So Marvin closed the curtains again. “What were you doing?” he asked Jair.

Jair looked up at him, confused.

“I mean, you’re usually waiting for me. What was different this time?”

There was a slight pause. Then Jair shrugged. He pulled on the ends of his neck bow, tightening it, and followed it up with a so-so gesture.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean? Something about getting dressed?” Marvin asked. This whole thing felt...odd. Why did it feel odd? Was it just because Draco was still clinging to his legs?

Actually, Draco wasn’t just staying close to his legs. He was also staring at something, ears flat, a warning growl low in his throat. Marvin followed his line of sight...to the door they’d just come through. And...now that he wasn’t speaking, he could hear something underneath the sounds of shuffling cards. Faint, but growing louder.

Footsteps coming up the stairs.

Now why would someone be coming up the stairs? The only thing in the central tower were guest rooms. But most rooms were farther below, and the steps were definitely close enough to be heard. Meaning...someone was coming to this room. Why? Jair wasn’t exactly sociable. It could’ve been Ursula coming to get Marvin for chores, but...Marvin grabbed his amulet through his shirt, and his eyes lit up the smallest amount. No, he could sense more than one living person approaching. Quite a lot more, actually.

“Can I use your lavatory?” Marvin asked. He didn’t wait for Jair to nod before heading over and disappearing inside, closing the door behind him.

Just in time for the room’s entrance door to open, and for all those living people to fill the room. Accompanying the footsteps he’d heard before was the faint sound of metallic clanking, like...like chainmail. Or weapons.

Panic flooded Marvin’s mind. They’d discovered him, hadn’t they?! He had to get out of here! There was a small window in the bathroom, maybe just barely big enough to squeeze through. It was quite a drop to the keep below, but better than nothing. Marvin tried to break the glass with his fist, but only managed to crack it, so he pulled his amulet out and began to focus.

“Open up! We know you’re in there, traitor!” Bang bang bang bang bang!

“Damn!” Marvin cursed. They were knocking on the bathroom door. He didn’t have time to break the window, he needed to go through them! He whirled around—

The bathroom door slammed open, revealing three warriors wearing tunics with the royal crest. Marvin grabbed his now-glowing amulet and made a throwing motion. Light flung from his hands, hardening to stone as it hurled through the air, and three good-sized rocks hit each warrior in the chest, knocking them down. Marvin immediately bolted.

The small room was packed with other warriors, as well. Many were blocking his way to the door, armed with broad-bladed swords. Marvin threw more light to either side of him, and the warriors yelled as they tried to get out of the way of the suddenly-appearing rocks. For the ones in front, he pulled more glow from the amulet, forming it into a long, thin whip made entirely of green flame. He swung it around and many of the warriors scattered. Two stood their ground, acting quickly to pull circular shields from their backs and block the magic fire. But then Marvin was in front of them, his hands ablaze with more flame.

And then pain wrapped around his torso.

He looked down just long enough to register the black thorny vines wrapped across his chest before suddenly being yanked backwards. Pulled off his feet, he landed on his back and was dragged across the floor for some distance before suddenly stopping. He looked up and saw a face looking down at him. Unnaturally blue eyes. Pale blonde hair, stylishly curled around her face. And a few smattering of freckles, almost disappearing beneath a light layer of cosmetics. She looked as surprised to see him as he felt seeing her. “Marvin,” she said.

“Thalia,” Marvin scowled.

“I didn’t think it would be you. They said the servant’s name was Westley. Unless—you lied, didn’t you? Like you always do.”

“You’ve always been the liar.”

“No I haven’t. I’m always honest with everyone.”

“Nope. I know you haven’t told anyone about those secret visits to the mountains, have you?” Marvin laughed at Thalia’s surprised expression. “That was hard to find out, but I immediately recognized your handiwork. Burning the stone? Really? Talk about excessive.”

“Shut up,” Thalia snapped. She reached up and touched a silver-and-ruby broach pinned on her tunic. Her focus. Her eyes lit up. “I’m the one in charge now.”

“No you’re not.” Marvin grabbed his own focus, flicking the light from it up into her face. Thalia yelped as the glow turned into liquid and went into her eyes, and she lost concentration on the vine spell. Marvin shot up and looked around the room again. Now counting, there were ten warriors. One of them was holding his cat-shaped mask. Damn it! They went through his belongings and found it. He could have left it behind, but he brought it in case something happened and he needed it. Clearly that hadn’t been worth the risk.

All of the warriors were strategically blocking his ways out. The window, the door out, the doors to the bathroom and Jair’s bedroom—

Wait, Jair?! Where was he?!

Marvin didn’t have to look far. Jair was sitting in the exact spot he’d last seen him. On the sofa, having not moved a finger since the warriors and Thalia entered. His eyes were fixed downward, his hands clutching the deck of cards tightly in his lap. Marvin blinked. “Jair, what are you—”

Fog suddenly filled the room, unnaturally quickly, blinding him in seconds. Marvin whirled around, lighting up his amulet to try and see through the mist. 

Dark figures lunged out of the fog and grabbed at him. Shouting, Marvin threw the light in a circle, turning it to green flame again. Several people cried out, and the fog lifted as the fire burned through it. Marvin saw the surrounding figures of the warriors, and then someone lunged at him from behind, wrapping legs around his and pulling his hair.

He yelped. “Thalia! Get off me!”

“No, give me that focus!” Thalia demanded, clawing at the chain around his neck.

“Die in freezing!” Marvin tried to grab his amulet, but that was a bit difficult while the chain was strangling him. He had to divert effort to giving himself room to breathe. “Who jumps on someone’s back?! You’re thirty years old!”

“You’re the one acting like a child! You stole that, I recognize it!”

“It was mine, too!”

After a few moments, the combination of struggling and the weight on his back caused Marvin to fall over, bringing Thalia down with him. The moment he was down, five of the ten warriors lunged forward, pinning him. He struggled, but there were just too many. Then Thalia pulled once more on the chain holding his amulet, and it broke. She backed away, holding the amulet upward in triumph.

Out of nowhere, there was a yowling sound. Thalia screamed as a streak of off-white fur ran at her and began clawing at her leg, tearing through her trousers while spitting and hissing. Instinctively, she kicked, and the ball of fur went flying across the room.

“Draco!” Marvin cried, managing to push free of the warriors for long enough to see his cat stand up again. “No! Get out of here!”

Draco wailed, then hissed, ready to attack despite being outnumbered by eleven tall humans.

“No! Out! Run!” Marvin’s magic was quickly fading without his amulet within reach, but he had to get Draco to safety. He looked Draco in the eyes from across the room. His flickered blue for a moment, and Draco’s eyes glowed for a second in the matching shade. Marvin sent the image of a safe place to go through the connection he had with his familiar, and followed it up with instructions on how to get there.

Reluctantly, Draco turned...then bolted, weaving in between the legs of the warriors in a sudden burst of speed. Once he reached the door, an unnatural wave of strength overcame him, and he pushed it open and disappeared. The warriors cried out, but Thalia called, “Let it go! It can’t do much!” She looked down at Marvin. “Really? A cat? Why not bond with something more useful, like a dog?”

“Fuck you!” Marvin shouted, and lunged at her.

Then a warrior brought the hilt of their sword down on the back of his head, and everything went black.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos au #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

[imreallyhereforkataang]

hello, i don’t know who to ask about this but i’m new to the fandom and saw that you really like kataang. what’s your interpretation of katara’s glance down after the kiss before the invasion? i’m not a fan of the surprise kiss trope but even with that said, i had thought she liked him back. it didn’t seem like she did at that point or through the rest of book 3, and then next thing we knew they were endgame in the finale. sorry for being a bother, i’m just a little confused (like katara i guess haha)

Hi, Anon! Welcome to the fandom! Hopefully it treats you nicely lol.

Ah yeah. I've seen this talked about a lot over the years. And, y'know, I get it. It can seem a little out-of-place at first since, as you noted, Katara shows signs of being romantically interested in Aang beforehand, and now that they've had their second kiss, she doesn't look too happy about it. As someone who ships them, I initially would have loved to see them happy in that moment, to take another minute to themselves just to share grins and maybe laugh a bit because they've taken that step, put their feelings out into the open, and they're both glad for it. To a shipper, or to someone who's rooting for our protagonist to express his feelings, this does feel like a celebratory moment. I'm taken out of the context of the scene for a second because the pretty music has shot in and I'm still surprised at Aang's move and I'm happy to see an actual, mutual (as Katara leans in) kiss between them.  

Then again, this situation is a lot realer for them than it is for me. I'm the viewer, I can hear The Cave of Two Lovers' theme, I can see this being painted in a positive light because we see these two come together for a brief moment, and the narrative is, in a sense, praising that. In-universe, though, it's a bit more complicated, and Katara looking sad really isn't so out-of-place.

Remember where they are and what they're doing, what they were saying moments before and what they're about to risk. For them, this is the quiet before the storm, their possibly final goodbye. Aang is about to fly off and face his destiny, confront what he's been training for over most of the year, "since the day we met" as Katara puts it, and determine the fate of the world based on whether he wins or loses. Whether he comes back or not. And he puts the reality of the situation out there. "What if...what if I don't come back?" It's the threat of that possibility that spurs him to kiss Katara. And she figures as much.

Despite the music suggesting otherwise, this isn't a happy scene (and perhaps that's why we don't get the full score until the finale, because this kiss is only foreshadowing what could be). It's tense, and bittersweet, and pretty tragic imo. Aang knows he could die. He says so. And then he kisses her. And I feel like Katara breaking out into a great big smile in that moment, even though she does have feelings for him, would just seem off. Idk, personally I'm not sure how you (impersonal) can celebrate finally kissing the person you like when you remember that what drove them to make their move just now is the very real possibility they might never see you again. That they're about to leave and face that risk, and there's nothing for you to do about it. Seems like an upsetting situation to be in. 

There's also the fact that I'm skeptical Katara didn't already know Aang had feelings for her. I'm not saying it was always on her mind or that she paid much attention to it, she may have been putting all that stuff on the back burner or pretending it wasn't there as much as it was (including her own feelings) to focus on more important things, but I think she at least knew it subconsciously. I mean, Aang's not very subtle sometimes lol, and they've shared plenty of moments. So when Aang kisses her and Katara jerks back and her eyes widen in surprise, it's not because she didn't expect Aang to have these feelings (at least imo), but because she was in the middle of talking and is taken aback that Aang broke the unspoken barrier between them. 

They're touchy feely throughout the show. Katara's kissed him on the cheek plenty of times, they've even kissed on the lips before now. They have sparks, and they've been dancing around them quite a lot, from the Book 3 premiere at the latest. But they haven't gone that extra step to put it out there too far, where there's no mistaking the meaning behind these gestures. I think, on Katara's end, she would have been okay with putting off making any official moves for a while, given the war and several other possible factors preventing her from feeling able to spend too much conscious thought and emotion on it, and so she's surprised that Aang's kissed her because they'd been keeping their more romantic intentions implicit up until then. She won't be realizing afterwards or celebrating in her head that "omg, the guy I('ve sorta been avoiding my feelings for but actually do) like likes me back," because she’s known this, but it’s been left unsaid and kept slightly quiet in Katara's musings. Now, it's out there in the open, they're past the safe zone, there's little room for ignoring the feelings anymore, and it sucks so much that they had to make their way there now. It's such tragic timing, a kiss that doesn't stem from a smiles and rainbows conversation where they sit down to talk about their feelings and where they want to go from there, but a kiss done out of desperation, out of the possibility that Aang doesn't come back. Through that lens, it's almost like they kissed "too early," especially for what happens next.

See, my impression is that Aang's kiss was meant for two possible scenarios -- Aang loses and thus doesn't come back, which means there's obviously no future for him and Katara. Alternatively, the day is won, the war is over, he comes back and the world is finally at peace; they can stop running, they can celebrate and breathe and talk about where they're going from here in an environment more appropriate for that. And since Katara kissed him back, it seems like she affirmed that there's something there for them, given he returns. But instead, something happens that I don't think they anticipated. Aang does come back, but he didn't win. So, in terms of Katara and Aang, they're now at a bit of an impasse, a situation that their kiss wasn't intended for, and it leads to this semi-awkward limbo because Aang's still alive but ideally that kiss between them wouldn't have happened yet. 

Everyone needs to regroup, start it all over again, keep grinding and come up with a new plan. There's no time to get sidetracked, now more than ever. And, to me, that's reflective of what happens to Katara after Aang kisses her and takes off from the sub.

Katara's reaction is to dwell on the kiss. She wants to, but Sokka reminds her that there's no time to. So Katara snaps herself out of it, and she moves on. And then they survive the Day of Black Sun, but the fight isn't over for them yet.

You asked about the DoBS kiss, so I'm not gonna waste your time hyper-analyzing Ember Island Players because there is a lot that's been offered and discussed about that episode. But if you were to simplify the reason for Katara's stance there, it's pretty much just holding up what was established in DoBS.

At the Invasion, while caught up in surprise because she had an expectation that they wouldn't broach the subject this way, if at all, for a while, Katara kissed Aang back, and she kissed him back because she wanted to. But since then, she's had more time to think, and she won't be so caught off guard next time. Aang expresses during EIP that he wants to try a relationship with Katara sooner rather than later, and that he'd thought she felt the same since she kissed him back (as well as the moments they shared before), but Katara is adamant now about this not being the right time. She fully intends to keep her head in the game, like Sokka reminded her at the Invasion. That's essentially what she thinks Aang needs to remember now, too (and yeah, like I said, there are other ideas that can be brought in that contribute to the articulation, but this is the primary point being conveyed here).

Whatever the reason, her response causes Aang to reevaluate his conclusion about where they stand. Even though the war isn't over, he thought that, because he survived and Katara accepted his kiss before, maybe they could try anyways. But Katara still feels stuck in limbo, and she makes that clear. It's also significant to note that Katara doesn't make Aang any promises about being together after the war, which imo was a good move on the writers' part (I have a wip about this but idk when that'll be done lol). Anyways, Aang backs off, following her lead and putting romance aside.

I do want to talk about the second half of Book 3 as a whole, though, not just EIP. I've seen people criticize this portion of the story in terms of Kataang, but I think that, besides the substance of these episodes, it's important to keep in mind that the last 10 episodes of the series (The Western Air Temple and on) originally aired 7.5 months after Day of Black Sun. Not only that, but these episodes all aired within the same week. It was a big, hyped-up event on Nickelodeon dubbed "Countdown to the Comet," and it took place over the course of 6 days. That sort of schedule for finishing a show is...unusual. But it was also intentional here. 

Even though the episodes don't have to be watched that way, the final 10 episodes are, in a way, all together the final big bang of the series. They're majorly dedicated to the most critical elements of the main story, including Zuko finally, after 2.5 seasons, joining the gaang and him finding his place in it. I'd say that The Western Air Temple to The Southern Raiders are most generally about that, about Zuko being accepted and making amends especially to the original three members of the gaang (who he's hurt much more than Toph). The viewer is gratified by watching Zuko do what we all hoped for him, forming relationships with Aang, Sokka, and Katara after all this time, merging our most important A and B plots. The other major things the last 10 episodes are for are the final battle, of course, because that's going to be our conclusion to this journey, and Aang's preparation for it.   

So yes, onscreen interactions between Aang and Katara are fewer, but by no means does that make the rest of Book 3 an undoing of what they have. All their setup has been established, we're good on that, and we're going to leave that relatively be for now while we delve into the action until we're ready to revisit. And besides, imo, they still have extremely critical moments in the last 10 episodes that I am deeply, deeply happy exist. They're more subtle and less explicitly romantic -- a lot of them take place when they're not even around each other, but they speak volumes to me about how Aang and Katara have influenced each other, and how important the other is to them.

These 10 episodes are like a refocus of our largest priorities, and Kataang coming together is put on hold (again, I think that benefits the main story) for the end. But even though we watch less scenes where they're together, with more scenes of Zuko joining and hanging out with each of them individually in place, there's hardly indication of Katara and Aang avoiding each other after their DoBS kiss, or even post-EIP. 

They're still friends first. What they're avoiding is not each other, but a new possibility for themselves, because right now they're choosing to ground their feet in what they have. Basically, around each other, they're pretending what unfolded between them never happened until, possibly, on Katara's say so, it's appropriate to resume that aspect of their relationship.

And after the war, probably into a few months of peace (based on the state of Sokka's leg), she decided it was. She felt ready, and they dove right in.

I hope that clears things up! And don't worry, you weren't a bother at all! I love talking about these two, but unfortunately I became really busy the past couple days (plus this response got deleted and I couldn't salvage it because I saved a copy of a cursed screenshot of Aang and ig it was scary enough to erase my clipboard history :3). Thanks for your patience lol!

#i hate tumblr it happened again #id in alt text #kataang #kataangtag #atla #avatar the last airbender #katara #aang #irhfk replies #oh yes and btw i have LONG been aware of the other storyboard lol #i have also listened to the official commentary for this ep #the girl is sad for him yk #and she been knew he has feelings for her #so i'd appreciate if ppl would not rb the other storyboard. seeing as it's not canon it's irrelevant to the conversation

[alastanor]

Hazbin Hotel Crash Course for New Fans

I am creating this post with the idea that with all the misinformation out there, that perhaps this will serve as a kind of resource for those just beginning in the fandom. And perhaps, in some regard, it can serve as an FAQ for others. I will mostly be covering Hazbin Hotel and lightly touching on Helluva Boss as the spin-off it is.

Who created Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss?

This is an important first question. The creator of both shows is none other than our Mistress of Miscreants and Mischief, Vivienne "Vivziepop" Medrano. She is a Salvadoran-American artist and animator that was born and raised in Maryland and studied at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, graduating in 2014.

Vivienne has worked on previous projects like the comic Zoophobia, an animated music video of one of her characters from that series on her channel she credits for giving her channel a subscription boost. Other works include Too Loud, a project she worked on for DreamworksTV with Hunicast host Ashley Nichols.

Vivzie is currently working as creator, director, lead animator, lead writer, storyboard artist, character designer, all for both shows, and the producer of Helluva Boss.

What is Hazbin?

Hazbin, short for Hazbin Hotel, is an American animated musical comedy series for adults that aired it's pilot on Youtube on October 28, 2019. The show focuses on the theme of redemption and consequences and by August 2020, had earned a solid fanbase and had accumulated nearly 50 million views. A goal it later accomplished in December of the same year. As a result, Hazbin was picked up from television production by A24. As of this post, no information regarding production or a release date is currently known. The show currently has comics of Angel Dust and Alastor on the official website.

What is Helluva Boss?

Helluva, also called Helluva Boss, is a spin-off series set in the same universe as Hazbin Hotel, with a different cast of characters. Vivziepop has described both shows sharing the same setting, but having different concepts behind their story focus. Unlike Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss is still a project being created entirely by Freelance artists and is not restricted in it's voice actor casting. Because Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss share the same universe, details regarding Hell and how it functions are sometimes expanded upon in Helluva Boss. The show itself is it's own separate entity, however, and should not be lumped in with Hazbin.

What Does A24 Picking Up Hazbin Hotel Mean?

As previously mentioned, unlike Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel was picked up for production and distribution through major media channels by A24. A24 distributes to channels like HBO, TruTV, and Showtime but they also distribute to streaming services like Netflix and Hulu.

Hazbin Hotel could launch on HBO, Showtime, Hulu, or Netflix. But as of right now, that information is unknown. What we do know, however, is that Hazbin Hotel will not continue on Youtube. The pilot shall remain there but the first season will air elsewhere.

A24 picking up Hazbin also means the voice acting talent is more restricted, actors are required to be apart of the voice over union. This means some actors who played parts in the pilot of the show will no longer be present in the first season. Examples of this happening include, allegedly, Jill Harris who played Charlie in the pilot. The state of other voice actors remaining are unknown, however when asked by concerned fans on Twitter and again on his Twitch, Ed Bosco who voices Alastor responded he "was going nowhere."

Previous freelance artists, such as Ashley Nicols, are also no longer working on Hazbin Hotel. The same is true for many other talents who previously worked on the show. As a result, they have no idea as to the state of Hazbin's production and are unable to comment. Even Vivzie herself is unable to comment much to the state of Hazbin, however Vivzie has stated that the project is very close to her heart which leads many to believe the project is still in the works. It has simply been given a very tight lid against leaked information.

Cast of Hazbin Hotel

In this section of the post, I will be exploring each character, what we know about each character from a fully canonical perspective (and not the soft canon or outdated information that unfortunately lingers on the fan wiki).

Charlie Magne

Charlotte Magne, or "Charlie," is a compassionate yet naive princess of Hell who believes the reformation of sinners in Hell will help solve Hell's overpopulation crisis. It is an idea that has gotten her mocked, scorned, and laughed at many times. Nonetheless, she is stubborn and capable of handling herself when necessary. Charlie was voiced by Jill Harris in the pilot, with Elsie Lovelock as the singing voice.

Vaggie

Vagatha, more commonly known as Vaggie, is a sinner of Hispanic ethnicity short on patience yet displayed as one of the more sensible and prudent of the Hazbin cast. She is a lesbian and the girlfriend of Charlie Magne. She is also the manager of the Happy Hotel. For an unknown reason, she has a distrust towards men. Vaggie is believed to have died in 2014. She is voiced by Monica Franco in the pilot.

Angel Dust

Angel Dust, whose true name was revealed by Vivziepop to be Anthony, is a gay adult film star and voluntary guinea pig of the Happy Hotel. He uses the hotel as a free living space, and doesn't take Charlie's experiment of demon rehabilitation very seriously when we first meet him in the pilot. Angel Dust was a member of a strict Italian crime family, and died of an overdose in 1947. He is voiced by Michael Kovach in the pilot.

Alastor

Alastor is a part-Creole Louisiana native who mysteriously died in 1933. He is so nicknamed "The Radio Demon" for how he tore down Hell's original overlord hierarchy and broadcast his carnage throughout Hell. He demonstrates the voice and mannerisms of an old radio host, and is amiable, gentlemanly (in most situations), and polite. Despite this, he is a known cannibal, has been stated to have been a serial killer in life, and is described as asexual though Vivziepop is keeping his romantic orientation a secret. Alastor is voiced in the pilot by Edward Bosco.

Husker

Husker is a grumpy, sarcastic, and unenthusiastic pansexual alcoholic with a gambling problem. He is the front desk clerk and bartender of the Happy Hotel, mysteriously believed to have died in the 1970s. Not much else is known about Husker. He is voiced by Mick Lauer in the pilot.

Niffty

Niffty is the spontaneous, easily entertained and excitable housekeeper of the Happy Hotel. She displays being a bit boy crazy and a strong dislike for messes. Niffty is believed to have died in the 1950s, but not much more is known about her. She was voiced in the pilot by Michelle Marie.

Cherri Bomb

Cherri Bomb is the self-confident and daring cyclops demon from Australia with a penchant for explosives. She is a best friend and partner in crime to Angel Dust, believed to have died in the 1980s. Not much else is known about her. She is voiced in the pilot by Krystal LaPorte.

Other Characters

Other characters not mentioned, such as Sir Pentious, Mimzy, Baxter, and others are not mentioned because they have either not yet appeared and therefore are still prone entirely to soft canon, or even less is known about them than what has been shown above.

What is soft canon?

Soft canon, for ease of this post, is the word I am using for canon that is not official canon. And what this means is that it has not been solidified by the show or has not been reconfirmed since after the pilot by Vivzie as canon.

Vivzie herself has admitted to changing her mind on things (such as Alastor no longer being afraid of dogs), or adding things last minute (such as Cherri being Australian). Until either of these things happen, old information that predates the pilot should not be taken as infallible, solidified canon.

Response to Hazbin Hotel and About Fandom

The overall response to Hazbin Hotel has largely been positive. Within a mere few months, Hazbin's pilot accumulated views in the millions, and has ignited inspiration, creativity, and passion in dozens of fans.

However, there exists a loud minority on social media who believe Hazbin is harmful to the LGBTQ+ community due to the portrayal of characters in sex work, and other characters reduced to minority stereotypes.

Others believe it is sick and wrong to portray sins as something cute or sexy, and that Hazbin Hotel is an abuse of talent.

Others simply think the humor is not "adult enough" for them, and that the show is too childish.

These beliefs have ignited passionate discussions and arguments from both sides throughout multiple forms of social media.

Of course, there are also issues with those who claim to be fans of Hazbin Hotel. Those who display entitlement, and essentially ruin it for others. There have been those who have bombarded VA Twitch streams and demanded the VA do their voice request, which unfortunately makes the fandom less enjoyable for them.

There are also those who demand things from Vivziepop and other people they believe to be apart of the project. Regardless if they still are or not. These people make the interactions between fandom and artists more unpleasant and toxic. These people, unfortunately, think that because they have access to communication with creators, that it entitles them to make demands. It does not, but it paints fandom in a bad light and drags down the mental health of the artists working on Hazbin.

Others make social media posts highlighting their entitlement and lack of understanding.

The reason I bring up these people is in the hopes that, those new fans reading this, will think twice about acting the same way. Or stop someone who may.

Where to Find More Information

This is something that should be emphasized, and that is that the wiki can be used but the information on the fan wiki should be taken with a grain of salt.

Vivziepop has stated before that the fan wiki is outdated, and much of the other information that is confirmed canon is mixed in with old information and fan theory that has been perpetuated as canon. Making the majority of what exists on the wiki "soft canon."

If you are interested in finding more accurate sources of information, options include gaining access to Vivziepop's discord through her Patreon.

Following Vivziepop and the VAs on social media (this does not mean you should pester them for information), as well as tuning into any social media channels A24 may have.

Occasionally you will get snags of information pertaining to Hazbin through the grapevine on the Hunicast discord, however that is much more sparse and less likely given that Ashley Nichols is no longer affiliated with the Hazbin project.

Things for Fans

So you have watched the Pilot dozens of times now, and are looking for things to do that will tide you over until more information surrounding Hazbin is released. Or better yet, until Hazbin's first season is released.

Well, here are some options to consider.

1. Have you ever considered making a sinner OC or an Impsona? An Impsona is more in line with Helluva Boss, but it is still the same universe. Designing an OC and concocting how they would fit in the world is time consuming, and fun to think about.

2. If you have some spare cash floating around, how about supporting one of the community's artists and commissioning them for some art of your OTP, your OC, or your favorite character doing something interesting?

3. Consider reading more information floating around, things that other fans have noticed in Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel. Things such as theories based on behaviors and habits seen in the pilot, or in the comics. Headcanons are fun too, but sometimes people can perpetuate them as canon. Remember what makes something canon, so you can distinguish between theory and headcanon.

4. Enjoy Helluva Boss and it's expansion of the world and universe.

5. Engage in the occasional streams, events, merch dumps, and print signings perpetuated by Vivziepop to help keep interest in Hazbin alive.

6. Watch the Pilot and ADDICT music video just because you can and you have a mental stimulation craving.

7. If you are the creative type, you can create your own art or fanfiction of the characters you enjoy most.

8. Some members of the fan community have made fan comics, you could search those.

9. Watch the old Hunicasts on youtube, but remember that again Ashley is no longer affiliated with Hazbin, they are no longer allowed to do Hazbin streams, and the VAs cannot do voice requests. So if you attend a live Hunicast expecting there to be Hazbin, you will be disappointed. Regardless, the old Hunicasts are entertaining and fun, and can ease some of the Hazbin cravings.

10. Watch some of the animatics created from some of the funniest moments from the Hazbin Hunicasts on Youtube.

Let me know if I missed anything, but this was essentially me trying to put essential information for newer fans to the community all in one place. Hope it helps.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husker #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel info dump #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel new fans #long post #information collection #vivziepop fandom #vivziepop #helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #helluva stolas

[honeylikewords]

jack daniels ship questions!

(Remember that ship questions prompt list I posted a while back? Here are all of those prompts, filled out for Jack and his wife! Hope you guys enjoy! Content Warnings: Not much to speak of, but some mentions of conceptual peril, Jack’s latent PSTD-linked behaviors, pregnancy. Word count is 6.8k. )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

There are plenty of good options for this, but I prefer to imagine that Jack and his future wife met at work; the New York Statesman office is a functioning business, after all, and would therefore hold many people in its employ. Though Jack may be deployed to the field every now and then, he’s actually used surprisingly sparingly, and spends a great deal of his time actually working at the New York headquarters at a very real job as a chairman of the board for the company. His future wife worked on the same floor of the building in marketing, and the two of them crossed paths often, both in corporate meetings and just out and about in the halls of the building. 

What was their first impression of each other?

Jack immediately was drawn to her after hearing her speak up during a meeting; she’d been sent in as one of the marketing presenters and had a wonderful breadth of ideas for the company, and he was charmed by her warm presence, intelligent voice, and sweet manner. His first impression was deeply positive, and he spent the rest of the meeting eyeing her curiously, his tanned cheeks flushed with pleasure at being able to watch her shift her files around and toy with her hair as she listened to other speakers and nodded along: she was very, very pretty in exactly his kind of way, and he liked that very, very much.

Her first impression of him was, contrastingly, rather fearful; she knew him only as “Mister Daniels”, and had only heard of him through memos and word of mouth around the office. When she was called in to speak to some of the board members, she was petrified with anxiety at the idea of slipping up in front of such important people and, in fact, barely noticed Jack the first time they shared a boardroom: she was so nervous about getting everything right and speaking clearly and conveying the correct information that he sort of blurred with all the other execs and suits. That said, she did notice him watching her throughout the meeting, and any time their eyes met (and he often smiled at her when they did), she became acutely aware of just how handsome he was; his features striking, his mannerisms coolly lackadaisical, his posture wide and relaxed, his deep brown eyes smoldering under a firm brow as he flashed her a sharp smile. No wonder his name flew around the office so much.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nobody really knew, frankly: Jack has no family to speak of, and not that many friends, either. For someone so charming and socially adept, Jack is surprisingly something of a loner, and tells very few people anything about himself, much less about his feelings or attachments. Literally nobody knew that he was developing feelings for her, much less was intent on pursuing those feelings and manifesting them into a relationship, and he liked the privacy of that.

Likewise, she didn’t mention her growing infatuation with him to anyone, particularly because it would be so embarrassing: if word got out around the office that she was making eyes at a higher-up, it’d seem deeply unprofessional. Besides, she wasn’t really close friends with anyone at the office and they didn’t need to know, especially when she believed that her feelings couldn’t possibly be returned. 

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Jack. He may not seem like the type, but when he falls in love, it hits him like a train: hard, fast, and unforgiving. It knocked him off his feet and flat onto his ass, and he didn’t mind a bit. The only hard part was keeping it a secret from her for so long!

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Big time. Jack felt it would be inappropriate to make a pass at her at all-- his gentlemanly nature insisted he was only to subtly imply his feelings for her, but otherwise treat her with ladylike gentleness and cordiality-- especially when he did hold some sway in the office, and that could be misinterpreted as, well, something unsavory. He tried hard to push the feelings down, to make them quieter and less intrusive, but he couldn’t help growing more and more attached to her, particularly when they ended up spending more and more time together as coworkers. Every new side of her that he saw made him fall more hopelessly off the steep cliff’s edge of adoration, and he barely had the willpower to hold on to propriety. Still, he did his damnedest! 

Similarly, she resisted a great deal; how embarrassing would it be for her to try and flirt with a man so far out of her league, and so far up the ladder from her rung? It’d kill her, socially and in terms of her career, to make a faux pas like that, so she kept the feelings bottled up deep, deep inside herself. Still, whenever he smiled at her or went out of his way to be so intoxicatingly gentlemanly towards her, she found herself swooning; sure, maybe he treats all the girls like this. Maybe he’s just a well-raised man. But she still couldn’t resist the inkling that, maybe, just maybe, he was particularly fond of her; even if it was just a girlish fantasy, it made her heart race to imagine him harboring some secret affection for her, and, as she would later find out, that fantasy ended up being more than a little factual.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Jack is a sucker for the idea of soulmates. He fully believes in commitments of the heart, body and soul, and would be utterly unsurprised to know that the woman he’d given his heart to so wholly was his soulmate. He may talk a lot of big game and posture all the live-long day about pleasing women and seeing “the whole doughnut”, but that’s just pretense: Jack’s a one-woman man, and he’s happy to pledge himself as her soulmate. More than happy.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Jack, presumably, would have continued his work without ever knowing there was something missing, but would be distinctly less engaged in the office, sharply unhappy, and would have been more inclined towards keeping himself busy with field work. He would have closed off even further from attachments and affection and continued in his hollowed state, scraped clean of any remnants of the possibility for love, and would have, likely, kept running missions until his luck ran out. A dark ending to a cold story.

Her life would be entirely up to her, ready for any path she might be inclined to follow, though she would never know the joy of being treated with such respect and love as Jack treats her with, and she would never meet a man so gentlemanly, so adoring, nor so intensely loyal. Perhaps she would meet someone else she could love just as much as she would have loved Jack, but her life would be a painting lacking  the warm hues of Jack’s mirth, love, and tenderness.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I have a whole fic about that! But, in short, Jack did! I like to think of Jack waiting for ages and ages to find the “right” moment to tell her he had feelings for her and ask her out, and though he was petrified of making a mistake and losing her forever (and coming off like a creep), he managed to show her the sincerity of his attachment, and be granted the greatest gift of all: returned affections. She wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted to go out with her, and, from there, they melded together and the relationship progressed!

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In that aforementioned fic, I suggest that their first date was sitting together on a long flight and watching movies together during a corporate excursion, and I like to stand by that! But if you mean first “date where they went somewhere”, after that flight, the two of them rented a car at the airport, went for breakfast at a local diner, and then took in the sights of the town before capping off the night with dinner and a movie. They ended up spending the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing, shy but ecstatic to be finally able to be open with their attraction to the other, and adored every moment of the date. It was a little awkward, at first, but they quickly matched one another’s patterns, especially towards the end of the night, cuddled up together at the theatre, resting their heads on each other and holding hands, exchanging little kisses on the hand back and forth.

It was like magic.

What was their first kiss like?

Nervous! Jack, normally so confident and slick, found himself trembling as he leaned in closer to her, hovering his lips over hers and feeling the quakes and tremors careening through every muscle of his body: all he wanted was to grab her by the face and kiss her as hard as he could and never let go, but he knew that would hardly be appropriate, so he just inched in, millimeter by millimeter, until she pressed up and closed the gap herself, sending him spiralling with fireworks behind his eyes and pure jolts of adrenaline coursing through his heart. 

He ended up accidentally deepening the kiss by leaning in and groaning through his nose-- he’d held back for so long that his body wanted to take everything it could get before it lost its chance-- and felt her hands rise to cup the back of his head, locking him into her, which made his legs turn into jelly and his eyes roll back in their sockets in delight.

Suffice to say, they were out of breath when they parted, and not just from holding their breaths during the kiss.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Well, she wasn’t Jack’s first kiss, nor his first girlfriend, but she is definitely Jack’s first and only love of his life. And his first and only wife! As for the other way ‘round, Jack is his wife’s first long-term boyfriend, then her first and only husband, and, of course, the one and only (and thus first) true love. Ain’t that sweet?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Jack comes in at 5’11’’, 6’1’’ in certain sets of cowboy boots, and often likes that his wife is just short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her head during hugs. As for their age difference, Jack wouldn’t be at ease with anything more than a ten year age gap, and even that’s pushing it, so his wife is somewhere in that range. While age may be “just a number” to some, development isn’t, so he isn’t looking for a woman who isn’t at the same point in life he is. He wants to always be in sync with his missus, so being close in age and close in life plans is important to him.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Jack has no real family; his parents both passed on a while back and he was an only child. He’s charming and affable with his wife’s family, but gets surprisingly nervous at family events and prefers to keep to himself: frankly, he’d rather spend all their holidays alone at home with the missus than be around her parents or siblings. 

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Jack. His savoir-faire attitude, pleasing manners and general suave presence makes him a natural fit for taking the lead in just about every situation, but especially when out and about; his wife leans more on the quiet side, and he’s fine doing the talking towards others for the both of them. He’s fine ordering for her at restaurants, fine handling chit chat with drivers or dinner guests, fine charming businessmen or clients. He’s happy to be her voice when she doesn’t feel like talking, and happy to be the conversational springboard for her when she wants to make a foray into it. 

Who gets jealous easier?

Jack has a shockingly vicious mean streak in him, and he can border on being possessive, at times. Sometimes it’s sweet how much he cares and how protective he is over her, but jealousy is a wholly different beast; when Jack feels like someone is flirting with his wife or has caught her eye, something hardhearted and controlling in him claws its way to the surface in him, and he looks at the object of her imagined affections with nothing but pure, boiling hatred. 

For example, he can get more than a little insecure if he thinks she’s staring too closely at a particularly attractive actor during a movie-- does she think that man has a better body than him? Does she like that man because he’s younger? Prettier? Has a smaller nose and brighter eyes? Fewer wrinkles?-- and ends up hating the actor in every subsequent movie, even going so far as to refuse to watch films with that person in them. 

He also can be more than a little rude to other men in public, but in a backhanded, “disguised” way, his cruelties and biting remarks hidden under a balmy layer of “Southern kindness”. Once, at a coffee shop, a barista gave his wife an extra baked good for being “the cutest customer he’d seen all day”, and Jack grabbed the pastry, smiled toothily at the man, and remarked that the barista had “good taste, though you wouldn’t guess it”, pointedly looked the man up and down as if judging his apparel, then took his wife’s hand and left the shop in a cloud of bitterness.

She’d really let Jack have it after that one.

Inversely, Jack’s wife can be more than a little guilty of jealousy, herself; after all, she knows her husband is a very, very attractive man, and that more than a few women find him alluring-- she’s heard how other women talk about him at the office-- and upon finding out that some of his field work can involve seducing women for information, she was in a near-constant jealousy tizzy for weeks. He’d had to promise her that he wouldn’t ever allow the seduction to be more than flirting, and even sworn to her that he would turn down operations where such a means of extraction was baked into the plan, but the feeling lingers, burning sour in her stomach whenever she knows he’s deployed. Is he out there, somewhere, flirting with some floozy, whispering things in that woman’s ear that he once whispered in hers?

It takes Jack eons to assure her that all his affection for her is earnest and passionate and that he never once used “the moves” on her that he might use for a mission, but every now and then, she still gets frustrated at the idea of him being coy with other women and he’ll have to take her aside and show her just how special their love is to him.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Mister Daniels. What he whispers is a secret between himself and the missus, but rest assured knowing that he likes to spare her no detail when elaborating on what exactly it is he’s thinking about when it comes to her.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Jack wanted to say it first so, so bad: he had a whole moment planned out, where they’d be on a night drive, parked in his truck, watching the stars, and he’d have beautiful music in the background as they lay in the flatbed, and he’d turn to her and say those three words, sweeping her off her feet, but… she beat him to it.

She’d come down with a horrible cold, one that left her practically bedridden, and he’d come over in a panic, carrying bags of medicine and ointments and cool patches and Gatorades and soup from the best deli in town, and he’d spent the entire rest of the evening taking care of her. After propping her up on her pillows, putting on a calming movie, throwing out all her used tissues, getting her changed into clean, comfy pajamas, and feeding her warm soup and cool drinks, she was drifting off to sleep. Jack was getting ready to spend the night sleeping on the couch, and just before he left, she tugged him by the hand, looking up at him with cold medicine-calmed eyes. Dreamily, she stroked his cheek and hummed a soft “thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her knuckles. “Get some sleep, alright, Princess?”

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Goodnight, bunnykins. I love you.”

And with that, her medicine kicked in, and she dozed off, leaving Jack floating on air, hovering by her bed, staring with utter adoration at this sleeping angel who… loved him. 

Loved him.

He barely slept that night, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to fight off the silly, creeping smiles of a boy in love.

What are their primary love languages?

For Jack, he feels the most loved when he receives physical affection and is able to spend quality time with his wife. He has a deep attachment to her and feels that it’s best expressed when they’re able to touch each other; he adores being hugged by her, feeling her kiss his whole face, the way her hands playfully squeeze his butt when he wears those jeans she loves, the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tracing down his jawline and throat. Any time she’s touching him, he feels his life is complete and full, and when they’re apart, he feels fuzzy around the edges, as if only she can bring the whole picture into focus for him.

Add to that the enjoyment of quality time: Jack loves being able to spend days on end in only her company, doing anything she wants, talking back and forth and just absorbing the pleasure of being in her presence. He especially enjoys working on something together, like learning to dance together or building something (he, somehow, fell even more in love with her as they built a bookshelf together for their new, shared apartment), and, of course, traveling with her for trips and vacations. Once, they were snowed in together during a stay in Oregon, and he spent the whole three days of the snow-in just following her around the cabin like a lovesick puppy. They ended up sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, her perched on his lap, he with his arms fettered around her tummy, watching YouTube videos on resin pouring for, like, ten hours. He loved it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

“Well, excuse me, miss, but there seems to be something wrong with my phone--”

“Jack, no, don’t--”

“Because I seem not to have your number in it!”

“Oh my god.”

“Did I wander on in to the Louvre? Because my, oh my, I am staring at a true work of art, little lady.”

“Jack, please--”

“Lemme go get my glasses on, beautiful; you’re too fine for me to see without ‘em.”

“I’m going to lock you out of the bedroom if you keep this up--”

“Now, sugar, come on, can you blame me? I’m in such terrible pain!”

“Mhm.”

“Because it sure hurt when I fell for you!”

“OH MY GOD.”

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Every single day that Jack’s home, they’re cuddling in bed at the end of the day. He can’t sleep unless he’s got her in his arms, and he just can’t help but be a little handsy; he’s a lover of touch, after all! As for PDA, Jack tries to keep public affection “tasteful”, but also lets a little of his possessive nature pull through, at times: he likes to “mark” what’s his, and she’s his, all the way, so he likes to walk with his hand on the small of her back, sometimes cheekily stuck in the back pocket of her pants to get a feel of the nice curves back there, or periodically lean down to kiss her cheek and see if she’s interested in a more full-on kiss. At the office, they keep it limited to the occasional kiss on the cheek when there’s fewer people around, though that’s not to say Jack hasn’t teased the idea of going for something more intimate at work, before.

Who initiates kisses?

Both of them! They’re a very affectionate couple, but out of the two of them, Jack can be the most forward when it comes to making his intent to be kissed known. He has no shame about taking her chin in his hand and leaning in for a nice, deep kiss, or in pulling her by the waist away from whatever she was working, planting a wet one on her. Jack loves to feel her smile against his lips, and he’ll take just about any opportunity he can to snag a kiss from her. On her end, she loves to walk past him and press little kisses on his temples, cheeks, or the top of his head (provided he’s sitting down!), and will often try to walk off and continue what she was doing, only for Jack to grab her by the hips and tug her back for an even bigger kiss. He claims she “tempted him” into doing it; after all, a little kiss like that is more of an appetizer for the greater meal, is it not?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They sometimes alternate, but more often than not like to go back to their favorite position, with Jack (and all his long limbs) as the big spoon, curled around his wife, resting his chin on his plumpness, pressed up against her. That said, he also adores feeling her softness surround him as she holds him from behind, all warm and cuddly. It makes him feel loved and cared for, and he melts for it.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Both of them enjoy exploring the town together: walking around the city, trying new restaurants, strolling in the park, window shopping, going to museums, anything! They like to walk and talk, discuss what they’re seeing, things going on in their lives, or what they’re hoping to do, next. They love trying new foods together, especially when it’s something unusual to them or something they’ve never heard of before. They also love to go to the movies together, and take great pleasure in reviewing films together or just canoodling in the theatre seats. Hell, sometimes Jack doesn’t even watch the movie: he spends all 90-some minutes with his face pressed into her neck, giving her hickies and letting his hands wander.

They also like to snuggle up at home and watch television, with Jack’s indulgences being cooking competition shows and dancing shows. He also has a secret indulgence: RuPaul’s Drag Race. He knows it’s trashy, he knows it’s staged, and he knows it can be, well, problematic at times, but damn, if he doesn’t get a kick out of how some of those queens fight! His wife will watch with him, even if it’s not her style, just because it’s cute to watch him gasp when one queen throws a drink at another or hear him complain that a queen is underdressed for the challenge. Watching Jack is ten times better than any entertainment the show itself could provide her!

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Both of them are actually pretty emotionally intuitive people, and Jack is deeply sentimental and emotionally intelligent, so it naturally follows that he can comfort her and show her all the examples of his love and protection when she feels low and fragile. Inversely, his wife knows him, and all his broken pieces, and is able to wrap her arms around him and tell him just what he needs to hear: the truth. That she loves him, that she’ll never give up on him, that she’s always by his side, and that they’ll weather any storm together. That he isn’t irreparable, unlovable, alone.

They both take great comfort in one another, and many couples envy their emotional honesty and how much they genuinely do care for and protect each other.

Who’s more protective?

Jack; he’s constantly anxious that something horrible is going to happen to his wife. He’s seen some pretty grisly business in his line of work, and participated in more than his fair share of that kind of business, and the ghosts of those deeds float around in his head and haunt his visions, making him fearful that something dreadful will befall her, as he’s seen befall so many others before her. He gets antsy and tends to hover around her, though he pretends he doesn’t. He also feels an obligation to protect her, as the “man of the house” and her husband; he’s old-fashioned and believes it’s his job to provide for and defend her, and while the sentiment is sweet, he can be a little overbearing at times, trying to coax her into letting him handle everything for her sometimes teetering on the edge of condescension. 

She knows he’s only trying to be her gentleman, her knight in shining armor, her cowboy, but she has to assert that she’s a fully capable adult woman to him every now and then and show him that while she loves and appreciates his dedication to her safety, she’s going to be just fine, and they can work together on things, not leaving it all up to him to take care of. He’s still learning, and he can sometimes regress into old habits, but he’s made wonderful progress!

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

It’s an interesting mix of both! Jack loves to dole out praises and pet names and playful little flirts with his wife, but he’s also not afraid to get handsy with her to express his affection for her. He prefers to use both at the same time; holding her hips in his hands, swaying from side to side, murmuring teasing tones and warm whispers to her about how beautiful she is, how sweet and kind and lovely, and how she’s all his. And for as physical a man as he is, Jack feels truly loved when his wife tells him honest and earnest things she loves about him, or when she tells him he did a good job at something, and he can tell she’s sincere. It reminds him that he’s not just a body for her to love, but a soul, a person that she admires and takes comfort in. And that’s the most loving thing of all!

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

They both really love Dolly Parton, so “Islands In The Stream” comes on fairly often as one of their “dance around the living room and sing to each other” songs, as does “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That” by Dolly! He also loves Johnny Cash, so “I’ll Remember You” is one of their favorites. Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” is one saved for special, quiet moments; it was played at their wedding, and holds a special spot in their hearts as a song to hold each other to, or murmur the lyrics to one another to show them how much they are adored. 

Similarly, they also have “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole as one of their special songs: after all, they had both promised that “When I give my heart it will be completely, or I'll never give my heart,” in their own ways, so dedicated to true and loyal love, and then they found one another, and their hearts were given in totality.

There are more, but these are just a few (particularly romantic) ones!

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Jack calls his wife “Darlin’,” obviously, but also loves to use terms like “Honeycomb,” “Miss,” “Sugar,” “Little Lady,” “Babydoll,” “Princess”: heck, what doesn’t he call her? He loves using pet names for her!

She calls him “Mister Daniels,” “Cowboy,” “Baby,” and “My Big Man”, among other things.

Who remembers the little things?

Both of them! Each of them loves to keep track of special, unique things about their partner; she remembers that Jack hates acrid coffee and likes his with two sugars and two creams, or that he always puts his socks on left to right, or that he won’t leave the house until his tie is the perfect length, or that he always checks his mustache in every reflective surface he passes. He remembers that she brushes her teeth anytime she eats something that leaves the “fuzzy sweater feeling” and that she loves when he gently fingers combs her hair so much that her eyes close and she makes the same little pleased hum every time or that she only can sleep if there’s at least some cool air so she can bundle up and get snuggly.

The little things are what let you know you’re in love, you know?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Jack, ever the picture of the classic gentleman, absolutely takes the initiative on proposing. He makes a whole big-to do about it, planning everything down to the exact detail and sparing no expense in trying to procure the perfect moment for him to pop that perpetual question. He actually quite enjoys the planning and that enjoyment does carry over to when they’re planning the wedding itself! 

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding itself, despite Jack’s indulgences, was actually rather small: Jack doesn’t have that many people in his life he’d want to invite, so his side of the affair was rather empty, and so, in keeping, his wife decided to limit the event to just very close friends and immediate family. Both were very happy about that, being rather private people, and enjoyed being able to have an intimate wedding with a greater attention to atmosphere and personal touches than would be afforded for a much bigger wedding.

Jack had a few firm policies about the “tone” of the affair: he didn’t want a bunch of loud music, he didn’t want people getting drunk, and he wanted it to be fun but not “trashy”, a loose term he threw around at anything he didn’t really like or considered “gauche” when shopping around for wedding ideas. He also wanted to have at least part of the event take place outdoors, so the wedding ceremony was held indoors while the reception was outside, under the stars on an autumn night. 

He hired a full, live band to play the affair, and had a fair amount of fun dancing with his wife all through the night, from the traditional slow dance to up-tempo square dancing to just uncoordinated wiggling as they laughed their way into their brand-new marriage. Jack loves to dance, and having her in his arms, swaying to whatever beat life threw at them, made his heart soar.

I could go into more detail about themes and color palettes and the ceremony itself, but that’s for another day!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Jack wants tons of kids. He wants as many kids as nature sees fit to give them, and has absolutely no shame in expressing that desire to his wife. Thankfully, she’s on the same page: while she may not want to be pregnant every bout of nine months or so, she also wants kids and is happy to raise as many as come along over the course of her and Jack’s lifetimes; a big family does not daunt either of them. As such, their marriage became a very fruitful one as time went on, and they soon welcomed their first child, a baby girl.

Jack was absolutely, unbelievably smitten with the little creature the moment he found out his wife was pregnant, and became even more resolutely devoted to her when she was placed, wriggling and crying and all red and small, in his arms, mere moments after her birth. He’d stared at her, half-sobbing, half-laughing, as his wife gripped his hand, and both of them fell utterly, hopelessly in love with that tiny little girl as she took her first breaths.

The little family only continued to grow after that; a few years later, when their little lady had grown into a chubby, grinning toddler, she met her baby brother, a squirmy bundle of miniature limbs and his Daddy’s dark curls, who Jack swore was born knowing how to smile, giggling as soon as he felt his Daddy take him into a hug. Three years after that, another tiny Daniels came into the world, a bright-eyed and curious baby boy who seemed to only snuffle, not cry, when he was placed in his Mama’s arms that very first day, peering around with a wondering gaze that made Jack’s heart break with utmost adoration.

(There may definitely come more little babies, but I think three is a good number to start with describing!)

They’re each amazingly different, and Jack loves them all as unique souls: his daughter, Lucinda (shortened to Lucy), is playful like her father, and loves to follow him around the house and ask him what he’s up to, sometimes running off with his hat just to win his attention away from desk work or some other ‘unimportant’ task. She adores her Mama, and hangs off her mother’s every word, copying her mannerisms and asks near-constantly to help with cooking or with playing with her brothers, who she loves to play “pranks” on (translation: she raspberries their tummies, then shoots off to another room, laughing hysterically).

Their first son, Joseph, is a rowdy little whirlwind, and learned to walk quickly just to keep up with his older sister, giving chase wherever she went. He loves to toddle around the house, squeaking and cheeping, showing his Mama and Daddy what he’s doing (often putting something in his mouth that he absolutely should not be putting in there). He loves being carried by Daddy and will crawl into Jack’s lap on the couch, sitting on his knees and making faces until Daddy laughs. He absolutely loves to make people laugh, and will play games like peek-a-boo for hours, gleefully shrieking and adoring when he hears his parents laugh at his silly noises.

The littlest one, Johnnie, is the quietest of the children, and enjoys cuddling up to his Mama and Daddy and taking naps on their chest. When not sleeping, he likes to sit and watch what others are doing, and seems the happiest when resting in his carrier on the table, watching his Mama hard at work on a project, and especially enjoys watching her partake in crafts like knitting, sewing, or cooking. Johnnie also enjoys watching animal programs on TV: he cries if they play anything loud and bright for him, and calms immediately when Animal Planet or National Geographic is on. He’s barely old enough to hold his head up, but will stretch in his bassinet to see his favorite animal, horses, on TV, or if Daddy is reading a book and doing horsie noises. He loves to wiggle his miniature arms around in circles, delighted by the pony sounds, and Jack can’t help but grin at how adorable his little man is.

Do they have any pets?

Yep! Though they save getting pets until the kids are older, the family gets a pair of dogs, both adoptees from a local shelter. The bigger dog is a mutt between a lab and German Shepherd named “Messy” by Lucy, and the smaller dog is a beagle-mix named “Buster”. They’re both deeply well-loved dogs, and though Jack may have pretended to not want dogs, he dotes on the two of them relentlessly.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Jack can be paranoid, at times, about anything bad befalling his kids, and he while he tends to be relaxed and fairly easy-going with the children, he can sometimes have bouts of militaristic tenseness and scold them for going somewhere without telling him, playing in the street, talking to strangers, et cetera. He gets so nervous that sometimes it bubbles up in controlling mannerisms, trying to keep his children as safe as possible, but going about it the wrong way. That said, he is a loving father, willing to apologize if he steps out of line, and he never yells at his children.

Who worries the most?

As mentioned before, Jack can teeter into paranoia that something will hurt his babies, but his wife gives him a run for his money, at times, especially because it can be harder for mothers to be separated from their little ones at first. The truth is, all loving parents worry about their kids, and always will, and both Jack and the Missus worry about their wee ones out in the big world.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Joseph keeps trying to eat them! But it’s usually Jack, if only by default as the taller partner with the long, willowy limbs that can actually reach the corner of the wall where the damn spider is hiding.

How do they celebrate holidays?

As best they can! Mostly, they like to keep it to just the family, and don’t do any huge parties, unless it’s a birthday, especially for one of the kids: Jack tends to indulge the kids, particularly on their birthdays, so while the parties aren’t massive, they often have lots of kids and their parents come over for a big playdate and run around the house, lots of cake and balloons and party hats and presents wrapped in puppydog paper. 

As for holidays like Christmas, Hanukkah, et cetera, they like to stay home and do all the decorating themselves, and often involve the kids in the decorating process. A cozy, safe at home feeling fills all their hearts and Jack loves seeing his family all gathered together, making little ornaments or snacks together, cuddled up watching movies or playing with toys, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Ol’ Missus Daniels has the greatest track record in the world of being able to coax her early morning-riser husband back into bed, back into her arms, and back to sleep. He can’t resist her sleepy eyes and beckoning smile, the way she opens her arms and pouts at him, the rusty creak of her tired little voice cooing “c’mere, you big lug, they can wait”. He has yet to convince himself to leave her side after a ploy like that.

Who’s the better cook?

Jack is flat out terrible. He’s great at a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them. He really is doing his best to improve his cooking, but he gets frustrated with how long it takes to make a good meal; he was so used to getting exactly what he wanted at fine dining restaurants and having things delivered to his apartment as a bachelor that he barely touched any of the dishes in his kitchen, and kept his fridge almost bare. Now that he’s a family man, he really does try-- he practices alongside his wife, watches the Food Network, stuff like that-- but he ends up burning things and getting pouty, and his wife will have to take over and show him how it’s done, which he appreciates. She was always the better cook out of the two of them, anyway.

Who likes to dance?

Very often, Jack’ll click on the radio and take his wife’s waist in his hands, giving it a loving squeeze as he twirls her around the kitchen, out through the living room, sometimes at the foot of their bed, his cheek pressed to hers, grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes, the babies will want to join in; Lucy will stand on her Daddy’s feet and hold his hands, swaying all around and screaming with delight, or Johnnie will be held to Mama’s chest and bop around with her to the tune of one of his favorite songs. Joseph, much like his father, likes to boogie on down and shimmy his diapered tush around, giggling as his Daddy applauds him. They all love to dance together!

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send in any requests for similar questions!

#jack daniels #agent whiskey #kingsman #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #long post #original #BEHOLD. content. #and i named all the kids after relatives of the Original Jack Daniels (whiskey guy) and after Johnnie Walker (another whiskey company) >;3c

[smiting-finger]

Bin AU Headcanons

Part II of the (〃ω〃) 500 followers! unwritten-headcanon amnesty (some given in response to AO3 comment questions, and others given unsolicited, lol), this time for Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart and from me to you, my heart to yours

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

Pre-Wei Wuxian’s first arrest, Lan Wangji was quietly volunteering as general legal aid (helping old migrants with their internet/other service contracts, helping women with their domestic violence paperwork), and then Wei Wuxian gets arrested at a protest and Lan Wangji is not there and he doesn’t know this area of law so he signs up to get involved with Activist Legal Support the next day.

Relatedly: Lan Wangji’s approach to helping Wei Wuxian has always been to turn up, do what needs to be done for Wei Wuxian to achieve his goals and then silently leave again. So when the two goobers eventually move in together (and are finally fully in each other’s space, and fully across each other’s movements), Wei Wuxian goes through a period of constant realisations like “Oh, Lan Zhan, you’re the one who’s been doing this? This as well?! THAT, TOO???”

Pre-fake dating, Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian won’t keep any gifts given by secret admirers, but will shamelessly accept anything that Lan Wangji gives him outright as a friend (”friend”). He derives a petty satisfaction from that, and so has responded more than once to a gift-incident by giving Wei Wuxian a corresponding gift of his own:

So if he heard about the gift socks, he’d go out and get Wei Wuxian a pair of novelty There’s No Planet B! socks, which Wei Wuxian would naturally wear both immediately and proudly with his shortest pair of 4/5ths pants. (And Lan Wangji would stand next to him and somehow radiate smugness without making any change to his expression.)

Needless to say, Wei Wuxian has received a lot of Lan Wangji chocolate (chilli, fairtrade), lunches (homemade, nutritious) and other small items.

Wei Wuxian never even considers the possibility of not putting all his fake-dating eggs into the Lan Zhan basket. And also never stops to think about why that iss.

In re kungfu practice: when sparring against normal people, Lan Wangji does annoyed-leg-sweeps because of “I’ll bring you down every peg to the floor” reasons he’s too well-bred to voice. 

Past recipients of this treatment have included:

Wen Chao, 

Xue Yang at his most obnoxious

Jin Zixuan when gossip about his comments in re Jiang Yanli not being pretty or successful enough to date him (”I can’t believe my mum set me up with someone so mediocre”) is at its height.

This is pre-Wei Wuxian onstage-punch. That comes during the second round of gossip.

With Wei Wuxian (and only Wei Wuxian), however, it’s always leg sweeps and pinning, which is because of ... “irritation”.

The Phoenix Mountain Reserve photo has been Lan Wangji’s favourite shot of Wei Wuxian since it was made publicly available, but he couldn’t use it as a wallpaper for obvious reasons.

Then he agrees to the fake-dating, sees how far Wei Wuxian was going to take it and realised: chansu!

At some point during the fake-dating, Wei Wuxian escalates from the phone entry of Oppa to calling Lan Wangji “Oppa~!” in real life, and then from there to a full “Oppa! Saranghaeyo~!” with the arms-on-head love heart. 

After n iterations of this, Lan Zhan responds with a mirror arms-on-head love heart and a deadpan “Saranghaeyo.” with his face still like (• _ •) and it’s an instant, supereffective K.O. for Wei Wuxian.

Every so often, when another one of his romantic overtures has soared right over Wei Wuxian’s head, Lan Wangji considers Jin Zixuan’s over-the-top demonstrations of affection and thinks (bleakly) “...Jin Zixuan got a singing telegram. Must I also resort to a singing telegram? ; _ ; “

In re: the concert hip-hop number, shirtlessness is the goal all along:

A-Qing (who is also a troublemaker on Lan Qiren’s radar - as soon as he receives the form that says that she and Wei Wuxian will be working together, his spidey senses start tingling) has been constantly referencing it throughout all their practices like: 

“Well, because you’ll be shirtless, you’ll have to make sure to-”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, totally do that, but remember that you’ll be shirtless too, so-”

Even Song Zichen and Xue Yang know about it and have been visibly bracing themselves for the dress (or undress, lul) rehearsal

Wei Wuxian has missed all of this because of his amazing tunnel vision.

Speaking of Song Zichen and Xue Yang, while they’re having their Moments:

Xiao Xingchen is swanning around like “But do you think the performance had artistic integrity? A-Qing, I’m a little worried that the choreography didn’t do full justice to the abilities of all our members! I hope they don’t think I’m hogging the limelight!”, taunting them with his half-nakedness while he earnestly tries to make sure that all the other dancers are comfortable and happy with the final arrangement

A-Qing fully notices the heart-eye beams shooting over from the wings (and fully notices the same heart-eye beams shooting over during various practices), briefly thinks about saying something to put the two losers out of their misery (because Xiao Xingchen is not the special level of oblivious that Wei Wuxian is), but then thinks ... nah.

During practice back-painting, Wei Wuxian is so focused on Not Looking that his mistimes his ~sexy stretch~ and gets it in precisely when Lan Wangji has turned his back to get the towel, so it really is all for nothing, RIP.

In the reprise back-painting session (and there definitely is one, what with Lan Wangji’s love for marking and the fact that Chinese calligraphers usually sign their name on their work), the levels of both shamelessness and trolling shoot through the roof on both sides:

Wei Wuxian suddenly feels the need to do a lot more whimpering and moaning, and his flinches of “surprise” and wriggling to “get comfortable” suddenly happen a lot more in the hip area than they did before.

Lan Wangji does a lot more touching of the skin he’s about to paint to “warn” Wei Wuxian that the brush is coming (do warnings have to be quite so ... lingering? Only Lan Wangji knows), discovers a sudden need for wrist-pinning to “hold Wei Wuxian still while he works” and his blowing on ink to get it dry suddenly gets a lot more ... sensual ...

Lan Wangji is the teacher that all his babies are always proposing to. They lOvE him with every inch of their tiny baby hearts, and after they get together, Wei Wuxian watches on with a knowing nod, like “My fam, I getcha. Gege will support you in expressing your feelings and we can ALL win!”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know it, but he has a group of grannies and grandpas wringing their hands over his happiness, too: It’s all well and good that he’s seeing the Lan boy now, but when are they gonna get married, huh? HUH?! WHAT’S THE POINT OF SAVING THE PLANET IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA FILL IT WITH BABIES, WEI WUXIAN???

So once they officially start dating, Wei Wuxian steps into the Cultural Centre like “Ah, our fresh new romance! Even after all this time of fake-dating, I’d better give people some transition time to get used to this new state of affairs!”

And in the background, 73 aunties and grannies are thinking “Look how behind schedule you are, Wei Wuxian!” (because it’s definitely his fault, and not Lan Wangji’s). “Where are the babies? WHERE ARE THE BABIES??”

The wedding advice Wei Wuxian got from the grannies during Mianmian’s wedding prep is liberally flavoured with real life anecdotes like:

“Don’t be like XX’s son. He made the mistake of trying to skimp on the dowry - so disrespectful to people who’ve poured so much love and energy into raising a daughter - and it poisoned the entire relationship.”

“That venue is no good - YY’s daughter had her reception there, and we all had diarrhoea after eating the prawns.”

(And Wei Wuxian is like: “How can you retain all of this bullshit detail about every wedding the Cultural Society has ever witnessed, but still not know how to say the phrase ‘Excuse me, what time is the bus coming’ in English?!”)

Mianmian definitely also gets strong-armed by her excited mother into some glorious(ly terrible) Chinese-style studio wedding photos (with industrial-strength airbrushing and wedding costume changes that span many cultures and many Chinese time periods).

Mianmian swears to never let Wei Wuxian get his grubby hands on that album, on pain of death.

But then her parents host something, and Wei Wuxian goes, and right there, hanging in their living room, is a floor-to-ceiling calendar, featuring Mianmian and Mian-man dressed as Chinese emperor and empress (because Mianmian certainly didn’t want it in her house, but it came with the package.)

Wei Wuxian makes a noise that Mianmian previously thought only dolphins could produce, and proceeds to take SO MANY photos with his phone.

At some point after Mianmian’s wedding, Lan Wangji comes out of the shower to find:

1 pair of pyjama bottoms waiting for him on the bed; and

Wei Wuxian in the corresponding top (which doesn’t cover his butt after all, but whatever, he’s committed), shooting him a double-thumbs up and wearing an expression like 8D!

(And Lan Wangji decides it’s not worth fighting and just goes with it.)

Lan Qiren

Lan Qiren is totally the kind of parent who never boasts about his children directly, but will listen politely to you telling him about how your son scored 86 in his maths examination, and wait for you to obligation-ask about his kids before casually saying, “Oh, Wangji? He scored full marks” and smiling thinly.

He’ll add “Sounds like your son worked really hard” for extra fuck you value if you were being particularly obnoxious.

The greatest tragedy in his parenting life is realising that if your children are The Best, it’s only possible for them to marry down.

His initial feelings regarding Wei Wuxian dating his nephew can probably be summed up as: “Wei Wuxian, I did not lovingly raise my precious Lan Wangji just to give him to you!!!” 

(The problem is that his nephew (inexplicably) likes Wei Wuxian so much, mumblegrumble.)

For weeks after The Resentment of Lan Qiren, every time Lan Qiren sees Wen Ning, he shakes his head sadly to himself and mutters “What a shame, what a shame.”

When Wen Ning responds with a slightly panicked “?!”, Lan Qiren just pats him on the shoulder, like, “No, no, it’s not you. We can’t choose our relatives. And isn’t that the greatest shame in the world?” - and then DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING.

And after many bouts of thinking and rethinking still lead him to the conclusion that Wei Wuxian is the best choice in comparison to all the other available options, Lan Qiren may or may not visit Cangse Sanren’s grave to burn some incense for an excuse to stand there and offer a sullen, “You fukken got me again, you bastard. I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t know who he hates more:

Wei Wuxian for being himself and yet still the best choice

Cangse Sanren for not letting being dead stop her from continuing to be a thorn in Lan Qiren’s side

Wen Ruohan for being undesirable enough to disqualify the only valid competitor

The other parents for failing to produce children who are better than Wei Wuxian 

(Like: Surely it can’t be that hard if he (+ his brother + his sister-in law) managed to produce two)

So he settles for hating everyone.

For his next birthday, Lan Xichen sends him a box of blood-pressure-lowering supplements.

Lan Qiren is like “!!!” but he still takes them because just because his nephew is being impudent does not mean there is not also a Need.

In re 3zun:

Lan Qiren goes around determinedly Not Thinking about Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao. Every time his eyes approach something he doesn’t want to see, he just turns his head like NOPE.

He eventually realises that he and Wei Wuxian have this in common and that Wei Wuxian is therefore his most valuable ally - both in terms of having someone to pivot to and have very loud, very enthusiastic conversations about anything else whenever the 3zun do something they don’t want to see, and also having someone to commiserate with about Not Wanting to Know. (But because they’re them, they alternate between teaming up for self-preservation and using their mutual weakness to take petty jabs at each other.)

"-If two of them are dating, then where does that leave the third one?!"

"RIGHT? Imagine finding out that they were silently pining away, forced to third-wheel for their unrequited love and best friend - unrequited LOVES AND BEST FRIENDS? What would you say to that?!"

"That's not even considering which one the third wheel would be - I honestly don't know which option would be the worst, they're all terrible."

"I'm almost ready to say that I'd rather they all be dating each other, except then I'd have to think about how that would work, dynamic-wise, like - who calls the shots? Do you think Nie Mingjue is domineering all the time, or do you think it’s a public front, and he then goes home to be dominated by-"

“STOP.”

Even before 3zun get together (both Lan Qiren and Wei Wuxian have chosen to Never Know when this is), Jin Guangyao is throwing out suggestive comments left and right and then immediately whipping out his (◔◡◔✿) face for anyone’s double-take:

50% to test the waters of public sentiment before he makes a move and it actually becomes his problem

50% because he’s a troll who likes dominance displays

Knowing this factoid, one of Wei Wuxian’s mental 3zun Dynamics possibilities features Superdom!Jin Guangyao, but he does his best to avoid thinking about that.

After Lan Qiren mentally accepts Wei Wuxian into the fold:

He still internally responds to at least 50% of the things that Wei Wuxian does with “Why, that little shit”, but it’s also implied that Wei Wuxian is their little shit now.

And for Lan Family! Qiren, this means: If you shit on him, WE shit on you.

“Shufu” 

Lan Qiren definitely Notices when Wei Wuxian calls him that, but it Doesn’t Do to make a fuss.

He probably has a conversation with Lan Xichen sometime around the first family dinner that goes:

LQR: You've noticed that he's still calling me 'Uncle Qiren' like we're nothing to each other.

LXC: ...If you want him to call you Shufu, should you perhaps not mention that to him?

LQR: What? No, he should already know these things!

And then after the wedding:

LQR: Your brother's boyfriend is finally acting like one of the family. LXC: Haha, oh my.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan

Although their mothers have been friends for ages, Jin Zixuan grows up in a different city, so they don't see each other growing up. The Jins later move for Jin Zixuan's high-flying corporate job, Madam Jin joins the Culture Society at her friend's behest and immediately falls in love with Jiang Yanli as a daughter-in-law. 

After a lot of cajoling (in both directions), she gets them to agree to one date, which is a disaster (I have more headcanons about this but they won't fit in here) 

Jin Zixuan has a lot of money and zero sense of proportion, which does not generally result in tasteful things. (Where Jiang Yanli is concerned, his desire to keep up a "cool" image is completely overpowered by his desire to please, so that doesn't help either. Like a golden retriever who wants people to think he's a cat.) 

After they get married, Wei Wuxian sometimes thinks about the peacock's peacocking rituals, like: "It's good that he's gotten more reasonable now that they're married - no, wait, what if he hasn't gotten more reasonable, but there's just no one around to see it because they're married?!" and never gets brave enough to ask his sister about it. 

After Jin Ling's birth, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (and maybe even Jin Zixuan) get locked in an ongoing battle for Jin Ling's affections. Jiang Yanli is the clear favourite, as she should be, but they all want to be #2, and their constant jostling is how he ends up with no chill despite being raised by one calm mum and one aloof (but secretly disaster) dad

But because Jiang Yanli is around, he's very polite about it: the kind of kid who barrels in screaming blue murder, skids to a halt and says "Auntie", and then tears out screaming blue murder again

Wei Wuxian tones it down a lot after he and Lan Wangji adopt A-Yuan because he’s got better things to do, but it’s still A Thing (during visits, A-Yuan spends a lot of time in Auntie Yanli’s lap being gently fed things while his dad and shushu yell at each other over the top of his cousin’s head)

Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli

Initially brought together by their brothers, they now meet up for regular, peaceful, wholesome tea-dates where they discuss the lives of their mutuals and gently exchange advice (and strategies on how to keep their angry-angry parent/proxy-parent's blood pressure down.

Whereas Jiang Cheng gets closer to coughing up blood with every year that passes by without Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji getting their shit together, Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli take the more optimistic view of "Look at how well-prepared we are, we've just run another year ahead of schedule!"

Dinner Crew

Jiang Cheng has been the unwilling audience to years of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s bullshit. 

If asked, he would say: “And you wonder why I’m so angry?! What do you mean ‘dating’, you’ve been fucking married for the last five years!” but no one ever does :’D

Every so often, he thinks about how happy their sister is about the dating situation because she doesn’t know that it’s fake, and he grinds his teeth because why can’t he also not-know!?

To this, Nie Huaisang says, “If we didn’t know we couldn’t help!”

And Jiang Cheng replies, “WE’RE NOT HELPING ANYWAY, LOOK AT HIM!!!”

Meanwhile, Jiang Yanli continues to gush about how happy she is for Wei Wuxian and all Jiang Cheng can do is laugh really unnaturally because he has to “Be strong, Jiang Cheng! Be strong for A-jie! ╥﹏╥”

He goes to read the comments on the Society Facebook after the fujoshi conversation, and gets so angry at all these people who are like “Ah, their love is so beautiful!” that he has to uninstall his Facebook app, and go and shout into a cupboard somewhere.

The non-Wei-Wuxian members of the dinner group have set up a separate chat to act as a support group, where they all go to:

Wail and gnash their teeth after Wei Wuxian does something particularly dumb

Scheme ways into getting Wei Wuxian to get a clue

Console one another when someone’s brave attempt at getting Wei Wuxian to face the truth fails miserably (because while they play by the rules of ‘what a normal human would do’, Wei Wuxian lives by the principle of ‘lol norms are for losers’.)

Relatedly: for every resigned Nie Huaisang face or enraged Jiang Cheng face that Wei Wuxian notices, there are at least three desperate-yet-silent exchanges that he doesn’t. 

Wen Ning is always really optimistic about it, nodding encouragingly like “He’s gonna get it - he’s gonna get it! - oh no, he’s not gonna get it. Oh. Oh no. Ó╭╮Ò”

Wen Ning always has at least one small child hanging off him at all times when he’s at the Cultural Centre because they know he can always be bullied into playing with them and they think he’s great.

Past bullshit dinner group projects have included Getting Jiang Cheng a Date and Making a Picture out of Jin Guangyao’s Forehead Dot While He’s Sleeping

(In re the forehead dot, they end up settling for making it bigger every time he nods off during a movie night at Nie Huaisang’s house, and Nie Mingjue comes home to what’s basically a Japanese flag on Jin Guangyao’s forehead and is like ಠ_ಠ)

Future dinner group projects include providing Wei Wuxian with support for Grand Plans like Getting Along with Uncle Qiren and providing Jiang Cheng with unwanted support for things like Workshopping Jiang Cheng’s List of Partner Requirements

A-Yuan

After A-Yuan’s adoption, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren redouble their efforts in Can we divorce an in-law?! because although they couldn’t save themselves from being related to Jin Guangyao, for their PRECIOUS BOY--

Therefore, when A-Yuan is five or six and starts to sound out how he’s related to people and why:

A-Yuan: So if Jin-yeye is Uncle Guangyao’s dad, then that makes him my-

Wei Wuxian: NOTHING!

Lan Qiren (springing up from the other side of the room): NOTHING!

Lan Xichen: lol

At around about this same time, Wei Wuxian, who is never gonna stop trolling Lan Qiren about ruzhui until the day he dies, runs A-Yuan through the “You see, my son, my family is not so well-to-do, and since your Uncle married into the Nie family-” talk, and then proceeds to reference it at every opportunity:

1: Despite A-Yuan almost certainly not asking, and

2: despite (/especially because of) Lan Qiren shouting “DON’T TEACH HIM WEIRD THINGS!” in the background.

(Lan Wangji probably lets it happen or encourages it because he thinks it’s funny)

#CQL #The Untamed #Wangxian #陈情令 #魔道祖师 #mo dao zu shi #not-fic

[catherine-parr-1512]

SixVengers - The Beginning (Fic 1) Chapter 6

@kenneth.mark.82 Mark Keeneth

Who would have thought that London might be destroyed tomorrow lol

13 replies 20 retweets 2031 likes

@spider_woman_fan_club Spider-Woman Fan Club

England is about to get destroyed and all I can think of is Spider-Woman flying today through London, looking good as always :/

303 replies 1025 retweets 70K likes

@superheronewsuk Super Hero News UK Official

BREAKING NEWS:

The City of London and surrounding areas are evacuated due to the upcoming Alien invasion that will hit London. The Prime Minister will release an official statement at 7 p.m. about the situation but unofficial sources claim that British heroes were asked to defend London.

20K replies 32K retweets 801K likes

Katherine closed Twitter and looked outside the window. She was in a car with Agent Blount and Anna on their way towards Parr Tower. It was decided after the meeting, and once everyone had cooled down, that the best thing for the team was to stay the night together and the best place for it would be Parr Industries Headquarters in central London. This meant that if by some chance, the attacks started earlier, the group of heroes would be able to get there faster than if they were travelling from their homes, most of them being on the edges of the city.

To pass time through travelling through central London, she was on her phone like any normal teenager would be and she was surprised that people didn't freak out that much. Kat knew that, that would change when the attack would take place.

After travelling for 30 minutes through busy streets of London, the cars containing the heroes and three agents *kidnappers* thought Katherine, finally arrived at Parr Tower, where they would spend the night getting to know the other members of the team and getting ready to fight Henry.

The three of them left the car and met up with Parr, Boleyn and Lee who arrived just a minute before. The group were joined by Aragon, Seymour and Salinas after a short while, the trio arriving last. The nine women made their way inside the tower and Katherine was impressed, to say the least. Whoever designed the building had taste. It was modern and white with blue accents. Very tasteful and minimalistic.

Kat could see many people walking around, minding their own or company businesses, nobody paying attention to the large group of women that had just entered. One of the security guards approached Parr and whispered something to which she nodded and led them towards a large elevator on the left side of the entrance, bypassing the security. It was fortunately large enough to fit all of them comfortably. The door closed but nobody clicked any buttons.

“BRIAN? Please take us to floor 80.” Said Catherine and everyone looked around, not seeing who this Brian was. However, all of them jumped when she got a reply.

“Of course Miss Parr, right away. I will also put the light on and adjust the temperature.” Said the robotic voice from inside the elevator and quickly started moving upwards.

“I presume it was some sort of computer?” Asked Anne awkwardly, not knowing what to say about the whole situation. “But that’s just my observation.”

“Actually, it’s an AI, fully functional and capable of thinking for himself,” Parr said with a small, proud smile. “I named him after my uncle who took care of my brother and I after our parents died.”

“That’s sentimental.” Smiled Seymour and the whole elevator went back to a (somehow) comfortable silence until the elevator stopped with a ping.

The door opened to show a large living room. It had a see-through wall on the opposite side of the elevator. Along that wall was a row of white, comfortable-looking couches and chairs. The walls were painted a light sky blue and grey, giving the whole room a calming look.

“Whoa, this looks nice, Parr. What a nice room to greet your guests. It’s very… you.” Joked Anne, jumping on the nearest couch, and putting her legs on the coffee table.

“I think it’s just parrfect.” Said Seymour and everyone looked towards her weirdly. “Sorry, I was trying to make a pun.” She chuckled to herself.

“I heard that you were a comedian but I don’t understand how anyone would laugh at that.” Replied Anne, earning a chuckle from both Katherine and Anna. However she also received a stern look from 3 Agents in the room - Salinas, Aragon and Lee - and a sad puppy look from Seymour. Parr and Blount just shook their heads.

“If most of you stopped behaving like children, I would like to point out that it’s my living room that most of my guests never see so be grateful,” Catherine said before anyone could say anything else. “This is one of my 3 personal floors so please don’t wreck it too much. I still want to spend time in my living room without it being destroyed… again.”

“What do you mean again? Did a group of women with some sort of abilities destroy it before?” Asked Bessie, sitting down on a nearby couch next to Anna and Katherine.

“Nope. It was BRIAN and me. Well, I mean he was in one of the suits and I was in another. We had a mock fight in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep which definitely wasn’t my greatest idea. We ripped a huge hole in the ceiling.”

“Now I want to see you do it again if I’m being honest.” Said Anne.

“I’ll bring popcorn for the entertainment.” Added Anna and the two of them high fived each other in the air from a distance.

“I think we should pick someone to be your leader for the mission. While Director Meutas will be controlling the whole operation from the TOWER along with many agents, there will have to be one of you making sure that everything out there on the field is going okay. It will be just the six of you. Military and a few agents will help you but they will mostly have to make sure that any civilians in the city will be safe.” Stated Salinas as an unofficial leader of Agents (other than Aragon)

The heroes looked between each other, silently debating the choice.

“Well, I am underage so I’m out” Said Katherine with a smug smile.

“I have anger issues that count me out as a reliable leader.” Added Anne, smirking slightly.

“Don’t look at me, I can barely look after myself to make sure that I don’t accidentally die. No positions of power for me, hey!” Laughed Anna, getting comfortable on her couch.

The remaining three women looked around, each looking at the other two women in silence.

“I think each one of us would be a good leader…” Said Jane, looking at Aragon and Parr, meeting their eyes. “However, as the oldest person here, I think I have the most experience in this type of job. Let us also not forget that I was and still am a Captain in British Army.”

“Sorry? You were frozen in ice for 70 years. I think that means you still are as young as you were back then, Seymour. I, on the other hand, am an agent in a secret government agency who knows how London works and I know this city.” Countered Aragon jumping towards Seymour, looking straight into her eyes.

“Really? Everything you do is being told to you. I led men into a battle and we won. You don’t have that experience, Aragon.”

“Unless you haven’t noticed, I’m not sure if being in the freezer for so long damaged your vision, but we are not men. We are women and we need someone who can lead us. You are not that so just step down and let me do it.”

“I don’t think so. I am not letting you do it. I won’t let some random woman lead this team and possibly cause us to lose.”

“YOU LITTLE-” Started Aragon, grabbing Seymour by her suit before they suddenly found themselves on opposite sides of the room, thrown against the walls.

The room was silent as they looked at what happened only to see Parr standing where they were before, wearing her Iron Woman gauntlets in each hand, with a hard look on her face.

“Both of you behave worse than 5-year-olds, we are supposed to be bonding and yet you squabble over something we don’t even need! I thought you would be better but if that’s how it will be, personally I think it’s better if we all decide on the field what we are doing, no leaders. I think we are all mature enough to make sure that it won’t be a problem.”

“Or maybe you want to become a leader?” Asked Jane, stepping towards Parr, the tension getting heavier in the room.

“Yeah. It seems like you want to be the one to lead us.” Added Aragon, tilting her head at the other woman. “Look at me, I am Catherine Parr and I say what is the best for everyone!” She added in a high pitched voice, trying to imitate Parr.

“I have to agree with you on that one, Spy, but don’t think that it makes us friends,” Seymour grumbled and moved closer towards the centre of the room.

The other agents didn’t know what to do with the newfound tension but fortunately, the other 3 heroes knew that they had to do something before 3 women killed each other.

“I REALLY THINK COFFEE WOULD BE NICE RIGHT ABOUT NOW!” Mused Anne, very loudly, making it seem like she was talking to herself. Parr, Aragon and Seymour stopped looking at each other, Boleyn now being the centre of their attention.

“Uhm, yeah… Right… I have a kitchen right there. I’ll make everyone coffee or tea.” Catherine said and quickly disappeared from the room towards where she said the kitchen was and the tension in the living room quickly disappeared.

Seymour and Aragon sat on the couches as far as possible from each other and the room was silent now, the only noise heard was breathing and some fans working.

“I think I will go help Parr with all of those cups. I also have this difficult coffee order. I don’t drink it any other way.” Anna quickly fled the room, leaving Anne and Katherine looking as if she was an evil witch who had killed their dog and laughed about it at the end of a song. The others didn’t seem to pay her any attention.

“Hello,” She said as she entered the kitchen, seeing Parr standing with 9 cups and 2 pots, probably with either coffee or tea inside them. “Wanted to see if you needed any help, Cathy Parr.”

“Cathy? Really?” Asked the other woman with a small smile on her face.

“Well, I decided everyone needs a nickname. When I say Katherine or Catherine it sounds the same. Or Catherine and Katherine. And then we have Catalina. Honestly, how many women can have similar names? This is like 33% of this group!”

“Don’t forget Anna and Anne. Those two are very similar.”

“I know, right? Stupid green imposter, I’m the superior Anne/Anna.”

“Fortunately for everyone we only have one Jane, Elizabeth, Maria or Margaret. I think that Lee is called Margaret but don’t take my word on that.” Joked Cathy, snorting lightly.

“I am also not sure about that one. I just call her “Mean Agent” in my head. Honestly, all the time I look at her, it looks as if she was getting ready for some kind of war. I mean, I know that we might be having a battle for humanity tomorrow but honestly, smile a little. Jeez, is that a lot to ask?” The woman dressed in red acted dramatically, clenching her hand across her chest as if she was being hurt.

“Do you have any other nicknames? For the others?” Asked Parr, filling one of the pots with hot water and turning her head to look at the other woman.

“I mean, yes. So we have Catalina as Lina. I think that’s actually a word for rope in Polish and to be honest, I would not be surprised if she had a rope hidden somewhere in that uniform of hers. Anne is Anne or Shrek.” At that, Catherine burst out laughing. “HEY! Don’t laugh. Just imagine her saying ‘What are you doing in my swamp?!’” Said Anna in a deep voice, trying to imitate Shrek. "And you will understand where I am getting this from. Jane is Cap or just Jane. Might buy her a cap after all of this is done. Then we will have Cap on Cap. If we buy two and she stands on one of them, we will have a cap sandwich. Little Howard is Kat because she reminds me of a cat but we put K at the start. And by we, I mean me and maybe you in the future. You, Catherine Parr, are of course Cathy. Lee we already talked about, Blount is Bessie and Salinas is Marrrrrrrrria. Remember, the more you roll the r's, the better the effect.”

Catherine Parr chuckled at the last comment, thinking what Salinas would think about it.

“You’ve known us for a few hours and you already came up with those? It’s pretty impressive.”

“It is not impressive. I was just bored.” Replied Anna, smirking. “So what are we having here?” She pointed at the pots, now filled to the brim with hot liquids.

“One of them has coffee, normal black. The other has tea, Earl Grey. I have milk in the mini-fridge in the living room so anyone can add it if needed by themselves.”

“Can I have hot chocolate? I am not a huge fan of coffee.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll make it for you right now. You know, like the good host I am haha.”

"Thanks." The two stood in silence, waiting for the drink to be made in a fancy machine Cathy had. Anna, however, was bored and wanted to start a conversation again. "You know, I am not sure what happened there in the living room. With Seymour and Aragon."

Cathy sighed "I don't know either. I get it that we should have someone to lead us on the field but… but I haven't thought that those two would make an issue out of it. They were just so…. Different, I guess, from what we saw in T.O.W.E.R. HQ."

"Maybe they are hormonal? Or need some sleep? Or coffee?"

"If they need coffee, we better head there quickly before I will have to use my repulsors on them again." Cathy pointed towards her two gauntlets that were now in the form of bracelets around her wrists.

"That's what they’re called? Cool." With that, the two women grabbed everything, Cathy with the two pots of tea and coffee while Anna used her powers to take all the empty cups and her hot chocolate.

"Your powers. They are rather impressive. I never saw anything like that."

"Not you nor C.O.U.R.T.. When I got them, a few years ago, nobody knew what I could do but with time I learned. They come pretty handy when I only have 2 hands and 10 things to hold." Said Anna using her powers to juggle the cups, earning a soft smile from Cathy.

The two women entered the living room again to be met with an uncomfortable silence. All of the women were sitting on their phones but it seemed like Anne and Kat were playing something together and didn’t really notice their two teammates entering.

“Hello! We have drinks.” Announced Anna, making everyone turn their heads towards her.

The two women put everything on the coffee table next to them and everyone made their way towards, eager to drink something warm while Cathy brought milk and sugar for anyone needing them. However, a problem arose when Katherine poured herself coffee.

“You will not be drinking that, young lady.” Said Jane, taking the cup from the teenager's hands. Kat just looks at her with a betrayed look. “You are a kid, you cannot drink that. Drink tea instead. It will be healthier for you.”

“I don’t like tea.” Kat stubbornly replied, not liking what the other woman was doing but knowing better than to fight with a super-soldier.

“She can have my hot chocolate if she wants. I’ll get coffee.” Cut in Anna, before Jane could say anything and wanting to stop any new conflict from happening… again.

“I’m okay with hot chocolate. Thanks.” Mumbled the teenager, sitting on a couch with her new drink, Anna sitting on the opposite end with a nice cup of steaming coffee.

When Jane turned around, pleased with herself, Anna used her powers to swap two cups and winking at Kat, making the young woman smile at her new friend. When they turned around, they could see Anne, Cathy and Bessie covering their smiling faces with their selected mugs as they drank their chosen beverages..

“Um, Miss Parr?” Asked Kat after their quick tea/coffee/hot chocolate break. “Do you have any sewing supplies here? Preferably a needle and some red and blue thread?”

“Why are you asking? Do you need it for something?”

The girl sighed and reached towards her backpack. From there she removed something. It was her Spider-Woman costume.

“It was destroyed in a few places today while I was patrolling. I was meaning to do something about it when I got home but I’m here instead.” The teenager said with a small chuckle and turned to look at Parr.

Cathy looked as if she was hit by a bus.

“This… is your suit?” She asked, pointing towards the fabric.

“Yeah. Made it myself. Bought all the fabric, sewn it together and all that.”

“...”

“Is Parr okay?” Asked Anne when she saw that Cathy.exe stopped working. Anna just shrugged and waited for the situation to continue.

“Am I OKAY?! OF COURSE, I AM NOT! I DON’T CARE WHAT ALL OF YOU THINK BUT I AM NOT LETTING A TEENAGER GO OUT THERE TOMORROW IN A SUIT MADE OF COTTON!” Screamed Cathy.

“It’s actually polyester” Replied Katherine but stopped when Parr looked at her with murder in her eyes.

“Is polyester that good? Wouldn’t she sweat a lot in it?” Whispered Anna to Anne and the other woman just nodded, questioning the life choices of the youngest member of the team.

“Howard, you are going with me now and I do not care what you think about it.” Ordered Catherine, dragging the younger woman with her.

“Please don’t kill me! I’m too young and pretty to die!”

“You won’t be dying kid, we are going to be making you a suit. And be we, I mean you give me a design and what you need, I choose the materials and other stuff while BRIAN will make it happen. Okay?” Asked Cathy as the two of them left the room, leaving the others to themselves. A minute later Cathy came back. “Oh, and if any of you want to rest, straight ahead there are guest rooms. Just pick one. If you need me, ask BRIAN and he will lead you to me.” She said and disappeared again, not staying to hear what the other women had to say.

Anna and Anne laughed at that, Bessie shook her head, Lee and Salinas started talking quietly with each other whilst Aragon quietly sipped her tea. Only Jane looked towards the corridor where Cathy had just left, her blue and grey eyes flashing yellow for a moment before she blinked and the unusual colour disappeared.

#six the musical #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #six the musical fanfiction

[kiss-my-freckle]

8x16 Rewatch: Nicholas Obenrader

IRS storyline. Red’s friendly thief talks about someone going to Boston University. Another one going to college. Agnes will tie into their college storylines somehow. I love Red’s comment about Ressler. “Black shoes, cheap suit, flat stomach, regulation cut - don’t get me wrong, he’s bent, just not as bent as we’d like him to be.”

“Why must you always be early?” This ties in Ressler’s comment to Liz in Brothers. “Not on my watch.” Whatever happens, he’ll be early. Ressler informs the team. He knows a great deal about the Yakuza because of Mako Tanida. 

Espinosa was building his golden parachute like The Director did. He takes a 10% cut from the 40% cut the crew is supposed to get. Red’s friend informs Neville. He’s boxing Espinosa just like he did Rudigger. Neville’s people have no reason to doubt Liz. He already knew she was an agent.

“She’s really good. But I think we’ll all be a lot better when this is done.” A nice hit to the note the woman from Paris left for Red. “You’re good. I’m better.” The worst has yet to come.  “Liz’s mom abandoned her. She would never do the same to Agnes.” Aram has no clue why Katarina gave Liz up for adoption. She had no choice. Liz will realize this soon enough when her own child ends up in danger because Neville wants to kill her. Katarina didn’t make a mistake, Liz did. 

The whole brother of Charles at the lake house reminds me of Liz’s comment about Ressler’s lake house when she spoke to Laurel Hitchin in 4x19. 

Liz is so disrespectful. Anyway... Cooper sent Aram to Paris because he’s still unofficially working with Liz. Ressler last week, Aram this week. Cooper basically knew Aram would be meeting with Liz. I will blame the entire task force along with Liz for whatever happens to her and/or Agnes and/or Jennifer because they failed to arrest her and chose to work against Red instead. He’s their CI. Liz is not. Red put her on the blacklist for a reason. Panabaker put her on the wanted list for a reason. 

“If I were you, I’d like the finish line.” Red’s comment is a nice kick back to his comment to Liz in Devlin’s episode, S5. “Our sprint to the finish. The bag is just out of reach now.”

I love Aram’s care for Agnes in this episode, but I laugh at Liz’s comment.  “Where we live is quiet and peaceful.” A nice kickback to the scene cut in 7x13 for their War and Peace theme. Ressler's "But maybe this will help us." US being Keenler. A hearing aid that blocks out sound. Cut to Agnes' name on her passport meaning Peace. “Your daddy just always taught me to be ready for a rainy day.” This runs through The Freelancer in 8x5. “There's a number pre-programmed. You ask for Charlotte. You tell them you got caught in the rain and need to dry off.” It won’t be quiet and peaceful for long. Charlotte’s web is about to get tangled. 

“I’ve done some awful things.” Liz kicking back to S3... again. “I have done... so many terrible things. I have hurt so many people."

“Whoever said crime doesn’t pay wasn’t very good at it.” When crime nearly costs Liz her daughter... she’ll understand what that truly means. It’s a dialogue that kicks back to The Ethicist in S6. “He did a cost-benefit analysis on these people, figured that the cost outweighed the benefits, and killed them because of it." Liz believes the benefit outweighs the cost. It doesn’t. 

Finally, some Ressler action in a lake house. 

Sikorsky’s official name is Ivan Stepanov. Red’s friend in the East. Officially, he’s SVR. Unofficially, he’s a high-ranking member of Zaslon. running black-ops around the globe. “Mobilize assets.”

Red doesn't expect Obenrader to reveal anything meaningful about Neville's organization. Obenrader knows the blowback it’ll have on his loved ones if he does. This is what Liz will have to worry about later. The blowback on her loved ones. More specifically, Jennifer and Agnes. 

Whoever their inside man is, it’ll be a low-level agent like The Director’s friend in Zal Bin Hasaan’s episode. I’m expecting someone outside the task force, but close enough to tap the phone. They know Liz is using burners, so they had to tap Ressler’s. Yeah, another kickback to S3. 

The task force can’t arrest Stepanov, so they’re letting Liz extract him. Because they chose to work with Liz and Ressler contacted her about Stepanov while having a tap on his phone, Neville’s own people got their hands on him first. Precisely the point. They just put Liz in the direct line of fire because Katarina was N-13 and she’s very much alive. I thought it’d be Paula who got into his line, but it was Neville’s people. Guarantee Stepanov can prove Katarina was N-13, and knows the identity of imposter Katarina. This knowing will be Liz’s downfall. He’s going to protect Red at all costs (tortured or not) because he and Red have been working on this project together for the past 30 years.

“Oh, my stars” is a common quote from Red. He used it in Lord Baltimore with Yaabari. "Let me guess, I stole something from you. A painting, jewelry.... your heart."  Red’s new asset is gorgeous as hell. Priya Laghari. 

“I want to be your angel.” - Red

Red pulls a fake shooting on Ressler and Park so as not to look like a CI in bed with the FBI. “Of course, a mystery is only as good as the story around it.” Red saying exactly what I’ve been saying about his real identity. It has to fit the story around it. 

Alina Park is pretending to read Just Fly Away by Andrew McCarthy. “A powerful story about family secrets, first love, the limits of forgiveness, and finding your way in the world.”

“Like taking candy from a kid.” A hit to Rizal’s episode. This is where Agnes falls in, along with the dialogues about spoiling her rotten. 

“You think you’re giving her a rope to hang herself. I fear you may be giving her a rope to hang all of us.” A nice hit back to 8x14. “I’m responsible for Mary Bremmer’s murder, Dembe’s torture, and I got nothing to show for it, except for another reminder that no matter how tight the noose, Reddington will always cheat the hangman." To be clear, Liz fully accepting responsibility for the murder of Mary Bremmer, so what comes to Jennifer will be on her. That whole washer necklace choking Mary through Liz’s Cyranoid. She didn’t specify that it brought her good luck, only that it brought her luck... because Tom Keen is bad luck. 

A noose for Jennifer Reddington. Then Liz will have something to show for it. 

Red is worried about Priya. He hired her to assassinate Neville. 

He should be worried. This focal shot is a kickback to Roy Cain's episode in S7. His "knock on wood" will push back to Liz and her fate.

Purposeful stuff. 

A kiss of death... like the woman from Paris kissing Red before injecting him. It also makes me think of The Apothecary, the Scotch. Just throw it in the bottle while he's gone and be done with it. While she may not kill Neville, I do think she’ll be the reason Red’s friend Ivan will survive. She’s a thief. "Items” include people. That's what Neville wants Priya to steal. She's gonna steal Ivan Stepanov. "Item" is how Red referred to Raymond’s bones in S5 and how they referred to Karakurt when he came in country in S2... items. Rakitin wasn’t worth the save. 

The Stranger by Albert Gamus. The book Dembe was reading that Red starts to read. The novel is famous for its first lines: “Mother died today. Or maybe it was yesterday, I don’t know.”

"Katarina Rostova was N-13. And Katarina Rostova is dead." Ivan Stepanov speaks truth. Red is N-13 because he's Katarina. SHE has been dead for 30 years. Of all people, the person who created the archive can prove who stole it in 1990. Expect Neville to be pissed because he's been chasing the wrong woman for 30 years. Ivan can reveal it all without revealing Red's real identity.

Neville’s comment about her innocence. “But Katarina Rostova was framed. Which means I dedicated my life to the hatred of an innocent woman.” This pushes back to Red’s comment in 8x2. “Is that the story she told you? She's a victim? An innocent wrongly accused?" What Ivan will be revealing to Neville. The real Katarina Rostova was no innocent. He knows Red is Katarina and he knows he’s dead either way because he created the archive that took Neville’s family. "Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are. You're the one who created the archive that destroyed my family." He’s gonna put Liz on the chopping block. "And I asked you to fly here so I could look you in the eye and tell you: I agree... for now." Because he has no idea she’s Katarina’s daughter, which means he has no idea she’s Red’s daughter.  

Full drive through the rest of the season. The first person Neville would kill... is Liz. 

#Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Rederina #rewatch

[c-c-cherry]

Any family headcanons for the gang members who's families we weren't told about??

Guess who was doing headcanons again at 4am??? ME!!! I’m sorry also with the much wanted help of @jjadegreen because she’s officially my headcanon pal and she always helps me a lot with this shit :)

I’m literally posting these at 5:45 am but they sounded good in my sleep-deprived head and they looked good on paper from my sleep-deprived vision so I’m just gonna post this now and worry about it tomorrow!

I use these headcanons regardless of whether its an Everyone Live’s situation or not so there are clashes between fics like the Storm and The Unknown (I usually just use most of these headcanons regardless of what I’m writing and what universe and whatever)

I know I say this whenever I post ANY fucking headcanons, but I’m sorry.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Abbacchio

-There’s not much to say about his parents. They were pretty average. All they wanted was for him to be successful; get a nice job, find someone to love. They weren’t too close with him, but they were there.

-He did, however, have an older sister by the name of Pantera Abbacchio

-And she was even more goth than he was.

-When lil Leone was just starting out in high school, she already was in her last year and by then she was already a fully-ascended goth goddess

-They weren’t that close (they had a 4 year difference) and she always thought he was too enthusiastic about everything. They never really connected

-BUT—

-He got really curious and thought she was really cool so he used to steal her clothes and makeup all the time and all her friends made fun of her for it, but she secretly thought it was adorable

-She was cold at first, but soon started sharing everything with him (she lent him all her fishnet clothes and purple dresses and crazy silver jewelry and even let him use her lipstick sometimes

-His parents thought it was a bit...unconventional at first but they wanted him to be happy so they supported it

-One day after school he got dragged into an alleyway (bb Abba was puny I don’t make the rules) and just got the absolute shit beaten out of him. She had poetry club after school so as she was walking to the parking lot she found him there bawling his eyes out because he got blood all over her favourite shirt

-She took him shopping that day (she put concealer on him in the mall parking lot to hide the bruises from their parents)

-They also got ice cream

-She didn’t approve of him becoming a cop (she don’t like cops one bit) but when he let his partner die and learned that he took bribes, she was so fucking angry. She never wanted to talk to him again

-His parents tried to stay connected, but the family seemed too fragmented and everyone was still angry at him

-Years later, she decided that maybe she should talk to him, to try and reconnect

-When Giorno picked up the phone instead and explained everything to her, she realized she was too late

-She was a sobbing, screaming mess and she felt like a terrible sister

-She felt like if she had called sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten wrapped up in the mafia

-Giorno invited her to the funeral, and they properly met there

-It was an open-casket, and in his will he requested that he wore the first dress that his sister bought him. (It had to be tailored a bit, but it fit)

-She planted purple lilies by his grave, and although she hasn’t talked to the gang since the funeral, the flowers are always watered.

Fugo

-His parents were assholes. Rich assholes.

-They gave him everything he wanted in exchange that he keep up their reputation, but even now, he still felt like he never did that right

-He had a little brother, Budino Fugo

-His brother was the last thing on his mind when he went to University, Panna would almost call himself an only child

-They weren’t close at all. They were always separated because of Fugo’s unpredictable anger and their house was so big that the only time they would see each other were during family greeting card photoshoots and for the painting of the giant portrait that sat in their foyer

-They got it re-painted once they kicked him out

-Budino was only three when Fugo was disowned, so by the time he’s older, his mysterious older brother is nothing but a distant memory, only someone he would pose with for photos and large gatherings

-Any photos of Panna are gone by the time he’s five, as are any traces of him existing. Anytime he would ask about the blond that disappeared out of their lives, he was always denied any answer

-He learned not to answer any questions

-Unbeknownst to him, he ended up looking exactly like his brother. If you were to place two photos of them side-by-side at the same age, you would barely be able to tell them apart

-He grew up without ever really knowing that his brother existed and he always thought of himself as an only child

-He grew up to be the perfect child. Charming, happy, calm, intelligent. He became the Pannacotta Fugo that his parents always wanted

-Everyone loved him, and although he didn’t go University that young, his charm and good reputation made up for it

-Budino would like to say that he lived a good life, but sometimes he wakes up and wonders who the blond look-alike is that always seems to pop up in his dreams. He wonders why he feels like something is missing, like there’s something that everyone isn’t telling him. He wonders who was holding him during photoshoots and who his parents used to yell at in the fragments of his memories

-But he shrugs it off. He has everything he could ever need, so why should he worry about that?

Mista

-Mista’s parents weren’t poor, but they weren’t exactly rich either. Living in a big family, they had to learn how to spread out their spending, and sometimes they didn’t exactly have enough to eat every night

-Both of his parents worked endlessly long hours and barely made it back by dinnertime, but sometimes they did, and every night when they didn’t, they still had food on the table

-Mista never hated his parents, but they were pretty dependent on him. They needed him to look after his sisters while they were working, and although he found it irritating, he never resented them for it

-The only time Mista can confidently say the number four without wincing is when he’s talking about his sisters

-Four of them, to be exact

-Mela was the youngest, around six or seven the last time Mista heard from her. She was pretty fragile most of the time and had to stay home from school a lot because of how weak her immune system was

-Mista missed a lot of school taking care of her, but she was always fun to be around and he managed to graduate with pretty good grades by the end of it

-He soon found out that she shared the same name as Narancia’s mother. He knew the two had more in common than they thought

-Stella was around nine the last time Mista saw her. She was the most professional and serious person he had ever met. She got incredible grades in school and her teachers often said that she was destined to be something like a doctor or a famous scientist

-Although she wasn’t exactly a jokester like her brother, he always managed to get her to crack a smile once in a while

-Gioia was thirteen, and she fit her name perfectly; she was the most joyous person Mista had ever met. Almost the exact opposite of Stella (she would always make fun of her for being such a prude)

-She loved cooking and would always help Mista out with taking care of Mela, but she loved animals even more than food

-They couldn’t afford a pet, but she always befriended the neighbourhood cats and Mista was even saving up to buy her a cat or snake (she loved snakes)

-Sera was fifteen, and somehow even quieter than Stella. She always seemed very reserved and closed off from the rest of the world, even Mista couldn’t get her to laugh

-She had a soft spot for Gioia, Mista noticed that the two of them would sneak out of the house at night and he wondered if she was a different person away from the rest of them

-Mista sees Sera and Giorno as almost one in the same, which is why he doesn’t exactly know how to react when he sees Gio in such a state in Stormverse

-After he went to jail, no one went to visit him. His parents were furious that he could murder a man, and he never saw his sisters again

-Stella was so angry and disappointed the last time he saw them all in that holding cell, she refused to even look at him. Gioia was bawling her eyes out and Sera gave him the hardest stare he had ever seen. Mela asked when he was coming home.

-He never did.

-When Bruno bailed him out of jail, he managed to give both of his parents a pretty large raise and promotion in their jobs

-They were always there for dinner after that, always there for them, and that’s all Mista ever really wanted for his family in the end.

Giorno

I’m sorry, bros. I have no headcanons for him. Only child, shitty family. All he really had was Gold Experience’s presence and a pack of cards.

Trish

-Donatella Una was a single mother, and her and Trish were very close because of it

-Her mother was beautiful and taught her everything she knows about the fashion world

-She had the most beautiful singing voice and always dreamed of being in the music industry -When Trish voiced interest in trying out for a few local parts, she was overjoyed and they instantly bonded over it. Trish claims later when her music career kicks off that her mother was her biggest inspiration

-Donatella was the absolute QUEEN of Girl’s Nights™—she would always go all out on snacks, makeovers, shitty romcoms...you name it and she probably spent way too much money on it

-They would do each other’s nails all the time and her mother taught her how to do her hair every morning

-She was in the middle of teaching Trish how to do winged eyeliner when she had to go to the hospital. She died before she could finish teaching her

-She never resented her father (well, before she met him, that is), even her mother knew that there was no way he could have known she was pregnant, but she always liked to think that he would have taken care of them if he did

-That opinion changed very quickly

-Always had that mineral water on hand—Ms. Una said hydrate or diedrate

-She couldn’t cook for the life of her so they got takeout A LOT and Trish has been to a fair share of fancy restaurants

-Her and her mom were going to go out together after school and get pedicures before the school got a call that she had been rushed to the hospital

Narancia

-He was an only child and his mother was always very kind to him

-She was the kind of mom who would cut your sandwich into a different shape every morning and made sure you got enough water and sunscreen and stuff

-Before she got her eye infection, the two of them would always be spending time together. His father was nice enough to the both of them and was never cruel while she was alive, but the moment she was admitted to the hospital, something inside him kind of unclicked and he never bounced back from it

-Although his father would come with him for hospital visits, he mostly stood to the side and spoke with the doctors while Nara would sit with his mama

-The hospital had all this stuff for sick patients like therapy animals and music and a really beautiful garden so Narancia would bring his mom outside all the time to sit under the apple trees

-And YES, he DID grow an apple tree in the backyard in Stormverse thanks to Giorno

Bruno

-It was just him and his dad after his mom left

-Bruno was a lot like Paolo in the way that the two of them were super stoic and rarely showed weakness around each other

-They were still very close

-They would go fishing together!!! Bruno was taught about boats and fishing and pretty much everything about the trade

-When he was little, he wanted to be just like his father :)

-When Paolo would go out for the day, he would hang around the dock in the summertime waiting for him to come back

-All the fishermen’s kids would hang around there too whenever there wasn’t school, so Bruno used to play with them all the time

-He got his first point as “cool mom friend” when he saved a tourist’s kid from drowning when they fell off the dock when he was around nine or ten

-The tourists gave Paolo an extra big tip that day :)

-He absolutely got his savior complex when his parents divorced and he chose to stay with his dad

-Pretty much nothing scared baby Bruno but thunderstorms hit different

-His father was always really careful about going out on really cloudy days, but once in a while a storm would hit and he would be forced to dock somewhere else until it passed through

-Bruno would sit there for hours not knowing if he was okay or not

-Bruno Bucciarati does not cry, but on those nights he did.

-Because he couldn’t lose his dad, too.

-He would always come back, of course, and he would always ask why Bruno’s eyes and nose were so red

- “Just Summer allergies, papà. Don’t worry about it.”

-He loves the rain, but thunder still kind of freaks him out 

-After his father got attacked, he dropped out of school to work for Passione. When he was well enough to go home, his dad finally figured it out and they had a huge fight about it

-Bruno slept half-awake by the front door with a pocket knife in his hand and he would board up all the windows

-The longer he worked for Passione the more him and his father drifted apart. Bruno was always paranoid after that, but he could never tell him why and it caused a huge rift between them

-His mother didn’t come to Paolo’s funeral

-He moved out almost immediately after the funeral and Polpo got him a place to live after he heard what happened

-He doesn’t often visit his father’s grave, but he constantly thinks about him with every decision he makes

-He always wanted to retire someone close to the sea.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Yeah ahaha did you know I’m capable of really sad headcanons? YOU DO NOW. Were Fugo and Abba’s ridiculously long? YeAh :) Were Nara and Trish’s ridiculously short? Also YeAh :(

Again, a wonderful beautiful thanks to @jjadegreen because my small brain self can’t come up with all the headcanons on my own ;’)

If you’ve got a question, come and vibe and hit up my inbox!! <3

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #giorno giovanna #trish una #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #leone abbacchio #family feels #headcanons #ask-c-c-cherry #guido mista #again Im sorry half of these are so depresso

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Tma relisten Episodes 6-10

(Still really long)

Alot of really important details that are going to be very relevant later on. Very facinating how early on you find these out. Relistens are good.

Episode 6 squirm

It's a good thing tma doesn't do much of sexual encounters and their connection to entities. While I'm sure that's a thing that in any realistic universe would exist avoiding it was a good choice. This statement was *shudder*

Interesting that she had no visible mark on her. Also being repulsed by police stations because the sectioned officers could have helped.

Naked in the streets after lighting his apartment on fire. What an image.

So technically the worms were in the archives 3 times: when Jane made her first statement, when Timothy hodge made his and when Jane attacked. The worms are very familiar with the magnus institute.

"This story is concerning. Not because of Mr. Hodge’s experience, although I’m sure it was very upsetting." ace Jon talking very technical about "experiences"

" though obviously it’s a tragic loss of life, etcetera, etcetera." Jon being Jon.

Ecdc are aware of Jane and corruption typical attacks which is off the bat interesting world building.

He's skeptic here because of lack of evidence but does admit the existence of a threat in Jane Prentiss

Also! He knows of her from before probably when he was a researcher. This confused me on first listen because I was trying to remember if she was ever mentioned before this. But she wasn't.

Episode 7 the piper

Wilfred kind of sounds like martin in some way but maybe it's just me assigning poetry to anyone like him.

But he hated apathy which might be very Martin like

Gentle sadness and creeping fear from the music. For violence of war... Is that what it means to immortalize it?

It's really cool that the concept of music in this podcast is associated specifically with war and unwarranted violence. There's a very strong statement in there somewhere that needs to be explored.

God this statement was intense. Lying for such a long time in that trench surrounded by violent death. But what's most interesting is that this statement doesn't feel like a supernatural one and yet... The piper was with Wilfred throughout the various battles and bouts of violence until the moment it was officially over. But in a very subtle way.

The description of the piper is really intense with the 3 faces. I think I missed it the first time but hearing that representation of war and fear is something I'm going to look for in artistic depictions now.

Wait. Who is Joseph Rayner? I know of Maxwell but never heard of Joseph.a victim instead of Wilfred? Collaborator with the Slaughter? Hmmm

I wonder how Accidental it was that the statement from 1922 was filed in the 2000s. Maybe to show that the piper never really leaves and the war never really ends. Ever.

Episode 8 burned out

Wow Hilltop Road already! I forgot how many of the first episodes were so important to the plot later on.

"That side of the road backed onto South Park with fences marking the bottom of each garden." this is wrong btw. Hilltop Road in Oxford does not run along Sount Park but is perpendicular to it, meeting it in the corner with Divinity Road which meets with Morrell Avenue which is the road running along South Park. Just FYI because I had to look this up to get a good picture. But I guess Morrell doesn't sound as exciting as Hilltop (which isn't even at the top of the hill smh)

Ivo lensik describes Raymond fielding as white which makes me automatically think he is not. Just a thought that popped in my mind.

Huh. His family had a history of schizophrenia. And his dad was obsessed with fractals. Being followed by The spiral (all the bones are in his hands) was also part of this story really interesting.

Agnes had mousy brown hair and looked like Raymond! Not red hair ( at least at first) like I pictured. Also she was a hell of a creepy child...

So did he time travel? Seeing the moments of Raymond's end? Seems like time doesn't work right in that place anyway.

Web person being devout church goer is also an interesting touch

Father Edwin Burroughs! I forgot he was here too! The knock reminded me of Mr Spider *shiver*

The priest explaining that the church exorcized demons but what not decisive if ghosts exist was hilarious. Jon dismisses paranormal but asks Martin if he's a ghost is opposite of the church.

Hmmm the web pushing him to cut the tree to uncover box from antique table...

Apple full of spiders ugh. Maybe something web was trapped in there by Desolation and ivo managed free it as Agnes was dying.

"We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree." wow that's an obscure thing to find well done Martin!

Jon still looks for credence for this story despite the schizophrenia that could leave him skeptical.

"while I trust Mr. Lensik’s testimony of his own experiences about as far as I can throw a bleeding tree," again Jon with his special brand of jokes.

Episode 9 a Father's love

The Montauk's story! I always thought their family had one of the most tragic ones. The hunt is a really cruel patron with its forced hunger and having other entities use them as tools.

Julia telling the truth of the story to the Magnus Institute instead of the police is also heartbreaking. How desperate and alone she must have felt drowned in that awful literally unbelievable story. The magnus institute feeds off of those people too.

So many of the hunt end up in police it's just... Such a strong statement against that establishment. What do we do to make that less of a horrible, unjust, all consuming system? That feeds on the hunger of some and the abject fear of others? And it doesn't have to be supernatural. It's interesting how season five, of all seasons, is the one that gave us that perspective. The non supernatural one on the subject while the world itself is so far away from the natural. God everything about this idea is so heavy and painful.

I kind of hate Julia's fate because of her background and how much alot of its beginning was out of her control. It's like Daisy. The hunt can never be forgiven no matter how compulsive it is.

The dark that took her mother turned her into part of it? Like the dark liquid?

A dark room to develop his photos of his victims huh? A play on words here.

Oooh they put a heartbeats in the soundscape really cool actually.

So Montauk killed other dark members that tried to leave? For the ritual? Like Julia's mother?

The hunt compelled him to keep the hearts as trophies? which is very self destructive of the hunt to do. Or is it part of the dark ritual with the sacrifices that the heart had to be kept?

I think Montauk was trying to slow down the ritual as revenge that night, rendering the sacrifices he helped create useless. Which is why pitch came after them that night and dissappeared once Montauk finished his ritual.

Sourcing the Serial killer enthusiast community. Love that the archives use whatever source of info they can access.

So Maxwell dissappeared in 1994 from public eye land yet the cult kept working towards a ritual. But now in secret? Their timeline always confused me.

Episode 10 vampire killer

I never noticed Trevor came right after Julia! Oooh this is so much connecting the dots so early on!

Vampires are so disturbing here makes you ever wonder how the hell media like twilight were ever created. But hehe the monster ****er community has always been a vibrant one. Not these vampires tho.

Trevor is so sassy I love his statements. Like Julia it really makes me sad how consumed he became at the end and how awful his death was. Once again the tragedy of the Hunt.

"I taught myself to read, I read as much on the subject as I could, and it isn’t covered often or clearly in those books I have found." can you imagine what kinds of books he might have found during the sexy vampire Era? This is a hilarious picture to paint.

So vampires feed off of blood and not fear which is an interesting creature to have in this kind of universe. Although hunters are also like that but there is still alot of fear and awareness involved with that while the vampires try to conceal themselves until the last moment.

There's alot of mosquito imagery in these vampires which is... Ugh

Also interesting how many time Trevor just uses the vampire's full name. Never shortened and never talked about in another title. Sylvia McDonald this Sylvia McDonald that. Also the other vampire. They always had a name that was psychicly imposed on the victims to be remembered fully. Very Stranger behavior.

Ahhhh the one vampire weakness... Drrrugs.

It's also very flammable which sets interesting precedence to setting unnatural things on fire to make them disappear.

Alard dupont comes in a later statement right? Yeah in 56

Martin was there when the statement was given which was 2010 and in 2016 he's 29 so he worked there for a while! At least since age 23 perhaps we'll find out even earlier. And he was still scared to be found under qualified after all this time! Oof...

I wonder how draining it is to give a statement that it kills someone who is sick.

The government is in on this! Looking for the teeth Trevor gave the institute... Somehow that strikes me as hilarious in the world building of this podcast. And it really leaves Jon no choice but to concede that there is something to the statement even if he refuses to use the term vampire like Trevor did so freely.

#Pfft i was so into this one i forgot to tag #Tma #jonathan sims #Tma hiatus liveblog #magnuspod #julia montauk #trevor herbert #Jane Prentiss #The magnus archives #hilltop road

[fang-wolfsbane]

Transformers Generation One: A Seeker's Triangle: Chapter 03: Discovery

“Hey Zett, haul your ass up here and get this job done!”

“Yessir! Be right there!” Zett Oakwell called up to his superior, or at least that’s what the man seemed to believe himself to be. Waiting until the big, burly man moved out of sight, Zett kept his lips pressed into an all too friendly smile he had years to practice into perfection. The moment he lost sight of the man, so did his lips lose their form.

A sigh rattled through Zett’s ribs, his hand reaching up to rub his palm against his diaphragm, trying to quell his true thoughts on the man who barely paid him the minimum wage for working on the construction site their company had been asked to clear. It didn’t help that they were the only two on site either. Everyone else had claimed that they were all ‘too busy’ to help with the clearing. He hoped they all got some form of pain in their backsides as karma for leaving him as the boss’s sole lapdog.

Looking around the site, Zett took a moment in to get a good look at the small beach that had been used as a dump by the locals. He could feel his hand curling into a fist as his anger swelled up once more. There were plenty of trashcans around the city, yet people still chose to walk along this very beach and just let their refuge flitter to the ground without a second thought.

Zett wasn’t an eco-warrior, or any kind of activist, but it still pained him to see how little humans thought of the only inhabitable planet they had. Talks about travelling to distant planets to live on them instead had crossed over the radio a couple of times when he walked past the boss’s office, overhearing all the excited chatter about the possibilities. Sure, send humans to another planet so that they can destroy that one as well. Those had been his thoughts. No one had asked his opinion on the matter, so he never gave it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have an opinion either.

Personally, he felt like no one ever really bothered to talk to him unless they needed something. That’s the way it always was. At home, at school, and even at work, so he simply chose to keep his mouth shut and pick up whatever he passed, throwing away the trash the cause of the problem chose to ignore.

The sunlight bounced off the slow approaching waves, lapping ever so gently at the shore as if tentatively testing its safety. The sight of a small crab scuttling in the distance was at least something that brought a smile to his lips. It almost looked like the crab was trying to play a game of tag. Nature’s refuge workers his teacher had said during a field trip when he was in the seventh grade. Zett took his hardhat off in respect for the crustacean, the same sunlight bouncing off his neck-length black hair, before turning on his heel and heading towards the boss’s temporary base of operations for the hotel they were tasked to build. Another refuge for the litterbugs too lazy to walk a couple of steps to the nearest bin.

“You wanted to see me, boss?” Zett asked upon entering the office, his brown eyes scanning the room. There wasn’t really much to look at. A wooden desk painted blue in the corner with a heap of bills for equipment, a cold cup of coffee and a pen verging on the edge of toppling off the side. The chair that was supposed to be nearby stood off to the side, acting as something for his boss to lean against as he studied one of the blueprints plastered against the wall. A quick once over told Zett that it was for the seventh floor. He hadn’t bothered to ask how tall the hotel was going to be. He only cared about how much they would get paid by the end of it.

If the pay-out were as good as he was hoping, he’d have saved up enough to put in a deposit for his own place once he graduated from high school in a couple of months, possibly scraping by with his sloppy grades. As long as he passed and could move out, then he was happy. Everything else could wait.

“Yeah. You don’t mind working extra shifts, right?” his boss asked, not even having the decency to try and look at him as he asked. Coming from the man before him, Zett knew it wasn’t a request as much as an order. If he refused, it would simply be cut from his check, not that he’d receive any extra payment for saying yes in the first place. Zett made sure to hide his curling fist on the inside of his hat, flashing a crude gesture to the otherwise rude man.

“No sir,” Zett hummed, forcing his lips into that same, earlier, all too eager to please smile that he hated so much that he felt like he could hurl at the mere thought of doing it.

“Good. I need you to work overtime tonight. Get this area clear by tomorrow morning so that the boys can get started. We’re behind schedule as it is.”

‘We wouldn’t have fallen behind in the first place if ‘the boys’ had bothered to show up in the first place,’ Zett snapped back, mentally of course. No way in hell was he going to keep his employment if he dared point out the reason for their falling behind. At least this way, he wouldn’t have to worry about going home and getting chewed out by his poor biology class test results – if his school bag had been left undisturbed where he had taken to hiding it beneath his bed.

“Sure thing.”

“Good. Remember to lock up when you’re done.” And just like that, the boss dismissed him, already grabbing his own jacket as he hurried out the door towards his waiting car. Watching the rear lights of the old clunker turning the corner, Zett waited a couple of seconds before slamming the protective headwear into the sandy floor beneath himself as hard as he could, sliding his hands through his hair shortly after as he screamed his frustration to the distant sky, his seemingly only companion as of late. A million stars, none of which probably even knew his name, much less about his existence. It made him wonder if anyone – any thing – knew that he too, had a life. At this point, there was no chance in hell.

***

Hours of hauling trash from one end to another had Zett sweaty, moody, and frankly, tired. A church bell in the distance told him that it was three in the morning. By this time, the headlight he’d wrapped around his forehead had lost its life, and of course his boss hadn’t bothered to leave a spare behind, so Zett continued working in the dark, knowing fully well that in a couple of hours he’d be forced to work alongside the same men who left the grunt work to him. The only comfort he gave himself was that he’d probably earn a couple of muscles from all the heavy lifting. The small bulges in his arms acted as reassurance.

He had been warned, multiple times before, about paying attention to where he was walking when doing his work, so the moment his foot hit something hard, Zett only had enough time to yelp out his surprise before crashing face-first into something solid.

A crunch of bone informed him that he’d officially broken his nose, his salt-stained hands flying up to try and cover it before the bloodbath begun. He knew it was an overexaggerating on his part, but it still hurt. For the first time in eighteen years, he’d broken something that most guys his age hurt during physical fights. He nearly laughed at how lame his excuse would be if someone cared enough in the hallway to ask why his skin had turned purple and blue. If he were lucky, he could convince them that he’s gotten it the same way as most guys his age tended to break their bones. Maybe he’d even be lucky to impress Miss Perfect, Carly.

He didn’t quite know why she was the one he wanted to impress, chalking it up to his DNA telling him to be the typical kid falling for the most popular girl at school only to be ignored like a poster from the drama club requesting new members. He nearly felt giddy at the thought of finally, possibly one-upping that other guy that always hung out with her. Spike… something. He didn’t know much about him, except that he had some association with robotic aliens from some other planet. Maybe those aspiring astronauts had some point to their Earth-eviction plan.

The first couple of months after the robots – Autobots, if he remembered right – no one could stop talking about them, until everyone got used to their existence. Sometimes when walking past a car parked off on its own, even he attempted to strike up a conversation with it in the hopes that it would respond. It never did.

Groaning, Zett pushed himself out of the salty water, keeping his hand pressed to his nose, trying to ignore how sensitive it was. Looking down, Zett leaned in for a closer look to see what he had tripped over. It was definitely something big, painted black with green streaks and purple markings. He frowned, leaning in for a closer look. From what he could see, it looked like one of those giant Autobot robots. Although this one seemed to be, well, dead.

How long had it been laying here? From the gleam of the armouring or whatever it was that they called their… skin, it seemed the robot had been abandoned. Sliding his hand up the side, he felt a couple of bumps and dents. Whoever this robot was, they sure had seen better days. From what he could feel, it felt like a female version. That alone was enough to cause his cheeks to heat. The closest he’d ever gotten to the females of his own species was talking to one of them with an occasional glance at their cleavage or other… assets when passing them by. Who knew that his first time touching any kind of female would be a robot? Not that he would tell anyone about that.

“What happened to you girl?” Zett asked, as if expecting a response. The head seemed to hold some kind of helmet that flowed into cables that he supposed was their version of hair. A visor like the ones that firefighters wore on their helmets covered where he figured her eyes were. Did Autobots also have eye problems? A pair of wings jutted out on either side, making him think that she had probably transformed into a plane or something similar. Judging from her slim figure, probably a jet. From what he could see, there wasn’t any rust, luckily.

The best course of action was to probably to talk to Spike at school and tell him about his discovery. Even better, he could go to Carly’s house and tell her personally. The grin that had appeared on his face at the thought fell. Not only was it way too early in the morning to drop by for a ‘casual visit’, he didn’t even know where she lived in the first place. He sighed once more, turning himself around as he sat down on her leg, running his free hand through his hair.

“Just can’t get a break, can you, Zett?” he asked himself, staring at his reflection in the water that wasn’t even visible. He frowned, kicking the back of his heel against the leg. So much for finding a giant robot that he couldn’t even use to impress the girl he liked.

A soft whirring sound buzzed through his ears, causing him to sit up. The robot wasn’t radioactive, was it? His head slowly turned towards the robot’s face, her visor lighting up into a soft red glow as a pair of even redder eyes locked onto him in what he instinctively knew was a warning.

“Oh boy.”

#Fanfiction #Transformers and tagged A Seeker's Triangle #Carly #Chapter #Generation One #Spike Witwicky #Starlit Meadow #TFG1 #Transformers #Transformers Generation One #Transformers Generation One A Seeker's Triangle #Zett #Zett Oakwell #A Seeker's Triangle

[soulmate-game]

Crack One shot

Soulmates were real, but there was no universal type of bond. The only agreed upon fact was that everyone only had one soulmate, and that was whatever that person needed most in life. If what they needed most was a romantic partner, their soulmate would be romantic. If they needed family or a lifelong friend more, then that would be the bond they would have. It could show up in any way, some more common than others but many unique to that pair or trio of soul bonded individuals.

Marinette had arrived in Gotham last week. She had won the Wayne Enterprises International Scholastic Competition for her and her class, the reward for which included a month long trip to Gotham. Three of those weeks would be spent in Gotham Academy during the week, with the weekends spent in personalized internships with Wayne Enterprises employees.

Except Marinette, who as the winner of the competition, got her internship with Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake themselves.

And after finding out that Robin was her romantic soulmate on her first night in Gotham? She was really hoping this internship would go smoothly without any life altering discoveries.

Someone needed to flick Tikki for not giving her enough good luck though, because that did not happen.

Marinette thought stumbling through her and Robin’s game-styled Bond would be more than enough confusion and complication for at least the rest of the year for her. But no. No, of course not. Because when she met Bruce Wayne at his manor for their first official day of internship on Saturday, nine days after arriving in Gotham City, she shook the billionaire’s hand for the first time.

And when their hands connected, the only thing in either of their favor is the fact that Alix had turned down the invitation to come with Marinette and therefore the only other people in the mansion were Bruce’s family (including Alfred, of course). Because as soon as their hands touched, bright silver light shone for a moment before what was basically a holographic screen popped up. On it in bold black font were the words:

— SOULBOND INITIATED STATUS: Familial FAMILIARITY LEVEL: Introductory BONDED INDIVIDUALS: Bruce Wayne (AKA:REDACTED) and Marinette Dupain-Cheng (AKA: REDACTED) INITIATE SOULBOND GUIDE? (Y / N) —

“B-But I already met my soulmate on Thursday!” Marinette objected, eyes wide as she pulled her hand away like it burned. “This can’t— this is a prank, right? New WayneTech or something?”

Unfortunately, Bruce stares at his own hand in similar shock.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I also already met my soulmate,” he informed gravely, poking his palm with the index finger of his opposite hand. “But look. I did not get a physical mark from my romantic soulmate, but…”

Marinette knew. She didn’t want to acknowledge it, but she knew. Everybody with a physical soulmark said that you knew when it was real, when it wasn’t paint or a tattoo or anything else, because it felt real. In some intrinsic, magical, mysterious way, everyone intuitively knew if a physical mark was or wasn’t genuine.

And the little, silver bat signal on the center of Marinette’s palm was definitely genuine. Her eyes went wide at the sight of it, and the information on the holographic soulbond-board changed.

BONDED INDIVIDUALS: Bruce Wayne (AKA: Batman)

Bruce showed Marinette the small silver ladybug symbol on the exact same spot on his own palm.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng (AKA: Ladybug)

“What the fuck?” That was Dick, who was the first to get over his shocked silence. But not very well. “What. The. Fuck? If Bruce had a familial soulmate, I would have thought it would be me. You know, first adopted son and everything,” he waved at himself, but his tone wasn’t jealous. It was just confused. “Or any of this other adopted children,” Richard gestured to the line of them next to him. “Why get a familial soulmate now? And why have two soulmates?”

The last line on the hologram began to flash insistently.

ACTIVATE SOULBOND GUIDE? (Y / N)

“I, uh, think we should click yes, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette suggested, lifting her hand to do just that before pausing and glancing at her new (what? Father figure? Uncle figure? Oh my god if Bruce was Batman, did that mean Damian was Robin? The builds and estimated measurements matched up. Did that mean Bruce—) “Mon dieu, you’re supposed to be my father in law figure,” Marinette realized aloud, her face suddenly paper white at the realization.

“... I agree, let’s see what this ‘Soulbond guide’ is, exactly,” her familial soulmate decided to say, ignoring her realization entirely. He pressed the ‘Y’ with one finger before Marinette or his other children could protest. The silver screen changed, the text melting away in favor of showcasing a horizontal line. Until that line spoke, and moved to show the wavelengths of its voice as it did so. Like a digital mouth. Occasionally text would pop up to complement or supplement the spoken words.

“Hello. I am your SOULBOND guide, A.I.D.E, or Autonomous Introspective Destiny Escort. I am a pocket personality created by the Universe and Fate Itself as your guide and informant regarding your soul bond, and nothing but your soul bond. My knowledge may extend to some aspects of your personality, memories, background, and motives behind actions, but otherwise does not delve far beyond the specificities of your Bond. Even my knowledge of your timeline and social structure in your reality are limited. That being said, do you have any questions regarding your Bond?”

“Oh my god, it even reflects Bruce’s emotion issues,” Jason breathed, thoroughly intrigued and entertained.

“But what does that say about Marinette?” Tim shot back. “She isn’t emotionally stunted like both of her soulmates.”

Yeah, everyone agreed at that point that trying to hide their identities from the French girl was a moot point.

“No,” Marinette agreed slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t even want to ask what you mean by emotionally stunted, because if Robin is any indication…” she winced, and several people in the room chuckled. Jason outright cackled. “But after dealing with HawkMoth for so long and not being able to let out any of my negative emotions, I developed a kind of mental system I guess. I just kinda… click and delete my anger or betrayal as often as it takes, if that makes sense.”

“That is not healthy, and we will talk about that later,” Damian said instantly, not looking pleased. Marinette just shrugged and grinned at him sheepishly.

As usual, Bruce was the first to actually begin to interrog— ahem— ask questions.

“Why do we have two soul bonds?” He asked, getting right to the point.

“In your case, it is due to your alter ego BATMAN. BATMAN has been a separate part of yourself, or at the very least you have seen him as separate from yourself as Bruce Wayne, for more than eighteen years. This grants BATMAN his own soulmate, as if he were his own entity. People such as Superman do not have this attribute, as they are fully cognizant of the unity of their two identities. BATMAN’s soulmate is Marinette, a familial soulmate. In her case, Marinette is in possession of the Ladybug Miraculous, which holds the power of Creation. This, along with the fact that Marinette is what is classified as a TRUE LADYBUG and/or a CREATION SOUL, gives rise to the possibility of a second soulmate being created for her as the need arises. This was compounded by the fact that she, like you, also sees LADYBUG as being a separate person from her own identity as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Since she has held both a true CREATION SOUL and maintained this mindframe of being two separate people for several years, LADYBUG was granted a soulmate of her own, which is you. Does that suitably answer your question?”

“The first of many,” Bruce admitted grimly, turning to Marinette. “Do you want to ask anything else, or get on with the internship?”

“Just one question today,” she answered immediately, her mind buzzing. “What does the soul bond allow us to do, and how do we activate it?”

“You can activate the Soul Screen and myself by tapping your soulmark with that intention in mind. Your abilities are as follows; Mental Communication link— a two-way telepathy activated on command only when the Bond Mark is activated. Surveillance— the ability to see through your Soulmate’s eyes through the Soul Screen in emergency situations only. Bond Text— The ability to send written messages to your Soulmate by holding onto your soul mark, imagining the contents of the text, and sending it. Nobody except your soulmate will be able to see said message, and it will appear on the palm that hosts that individual’s Soul Mark. SOS— If one member of the soul bond is in life threatening danger, the other member’s bond mark will glow and a meter showcasing the endangered member’s life force will appear next to the mark. Upon the life force extinguishing, this Bond will permanently dissolve. Resurrection, time travel, and magical Cures will not revive this Bond.”

“In other words, the Universe is calling both of you out for being reckless and is only giving you once Chance here,” Barbara surmised ruthlessly. “Good luck. Alfred, what’s for lunch?”

As everyone filed out of the room with the dissolution of the Soulbond’s novelty, Damian, Bruce, and Marinette were left standing in awkward silence. Silently, Marinette shut off the Soul Screen and A.I.D.E with it.

“... we won’t be able to keep secrets anymore,” Marinette said, seemingly just thinking out loud. “Once we activate the Soul Screen, AIDE will totally rat out any we try to keep.”

“She was my soulmate first, Father, so I’m stealing her now,” Damian said by way of warning Bruce before he picked Marinette up and carried her away. The billionaire playboy philanthropist just stared after them, wondering what the hell he did to taunt the Universe into making him the butt of all of its jokes.

He tapped his ear twice, a different bond awakening. “Selina? Please tell me you’re in town. I think I’ll crack out some of the good alcohol tonight.”

“Celebrating something?” The familiar voice purred in his ear.

“Coping.”

—*—*—*—*—* This is not at all canon to the original story, but takes place in the same universe. Just an idea I had for a second that I wanted to write a stupid one shot for. This is crack and I’m okay with that.

#maribat #daminette #mlb x dc #platonic brucinette

[mordigen]

Wicca is a Sex Cult - you won’t change my mind. Pt 3

....

It took weeks of preparation - I was given homework to do to prepare myself. I was given a special diet to stick to and varying cleansing rituals were performed on me to purify my mind, body & spirit. All of these things made me feel more comfortable - it was being treated very much like a very important, spiritual ritual. It did not feel creepy or seedy. My - attendants? I guess is the best way to call them, 3 women of varying ages that were to be the “witnesses”, and were all very kind and caring and motherly. They answered any questions I had, they were supportive and encouraging. They made it feel very much like an exciting journey and the beginning of something wonderous and magical once I was officially a member. I was starting to become more resolute in making this happen. And not really second guessing myself anymore. I thought it was working - I was losing the strict, prude mindset my upbringing had chained me to. 

The day of I was led into a community-center type building, I have no idea if the coven owned this building - had rented it out for the day, or if it was, in fact, a public community center they were actually expecting to carry this out in. I’m not sure which one is more disturbing - but it was dark, they had it lit up with candles everywhere. Music was playing and a few people were singing and chanting. It was, really, very lovely and peaceful and soothing, though there were more people there than I thought there would be. Again - it felt very thoughtful and ritualistic and taken very seriously. They were all very much invested in this, and that made me feel better somehow - this wasn’t just a joke to them. (A performance, maybe...but not a joke) My 3 ladies allowed me to undress privately - something else that gave me great comfort, it made me think they don’t want nudity or sexuality just for the hell of it, but that this was, in fact, a very sacred ritual to them - and gave me a robe that had been painted in runes and sigils that were supposed to help consecrate the ritual and my body. They walked me out into the main room, they cast a circle with lots of flair and singing, and laid out a bed-roll like cushion in the middle. They draped it in white linen, said some incantations and saged it. They brought me into the circle and did their incantations, and saged me. Again - all very ritualistic and spiritual - seemed very kosher and serious - Until they got to the point where they unrobed me and actually laid me on the cushions.

I started panicking inside. The “Priest” came out from the other room carrying an incense burner, and chanting. What, I have no idea - it wasn’t English, it wasn’t Irish, it wasn’t French. Those were the languages I knew, so I knew it wasn’t any of them - sounded very much like Gregorian Chants. So perhaps is was Latin, or perhaps it was completely made up nonsense. I have no idea. But he was already very obviously aroused - I panicked even more. Even though I was trying to keep it inside, it was starting to be noted that I was panicking. One of the three ladies tried to calm me down, she was reassuring. But I can’t even remember what she was saying - I don’t think I was able to hear her even then. The “Priest” carried on with his incantations, a few people lit candles and sprinkled salt at intervals. The brought forth various branches that were supposed to signify different things - and then it was “time”.  I suddenly became very aware of the fact that he had no condom - and no inclining to be producing one from anywhere. I finally came back to my senses and actually asked / objected to this notion. One of the ladies told me that condoms were not used as it obstructed the contact between bodies becoming “one” and therefore lessened the spiritual connection to the God / Goddess being invoked in us. I. Flipped. My. Shit.

Let’s ignore for a moment that this ENTIRE THING is horribly wrong, and remember I was a young, dumb, easily influenced teen - but thankfully THAT snapped brain cells back into function, and rational, logical, objective thought back into me. No one had ever discussed this idea with me - hadn’t even mentioned it, let alone asked if it was something I was comfortable with or willing to go through. No discussion of any type of protection in the off change that I had agreed. I was done. I told them I didn’t want to do this. THEY FOUGHT ME.

Guys. GUYS. THEY FOUGHT ME. the *WOMEN* fought me. The “Priest” started getting angry and belligerent, and started making comments about being blue-balled. SO SPIRITUAL, mmmhmm. They did everything in their power to try to convince me to go through with it - the “Priest” started taking off his robe, AS IF HE WAS JUST GOING TO DO IT ANYWAY. I started yelling - that was the only thing that shifted their focus, they were now trying to get me to quiet down. Someone FINALLY spoke up and suggested that this wasn’t right, if I didn’t want to do it then I didn’t want to do it. The “Priest” stormed off angry, started cussing and yelling and throwing things. One of the ladies offered to ‘take care of him’  !! Yes. You read that right. Oh yes, this whole charade was SO SPIRITUAL guys. He was only worried about getting his rocks off. Don’t even ask me what everyone else was getting out of it - voyeurism ?  they get off on control and deceit??  I dunno. Don’t ask me - I will never fucking understand it.  I was humilated, and SO unbelievably ashamed. How could I be so fucking stupid, and easily manipulated, and so jealous of my friend to put myself in that kind of position???

It was only after they realized I had packed up and left did they send someone out after me .....TO MAKE SURE I WASN’T GOING TO TELL ANYONE. Not to make sure I was OK. Not to offer some sort of sorry-ass apology or excuse. No. To make sure I wasn’t going to narc them out. I was so ready to get out of there an never see any of them again, I  - like an IDIOT - agreed to not tell anyone. For YEARS.  (They did, eventually, all get arrested so don’t completely lose your minds, guys) 

You can tell me I just ran into a bad group of people - that not everyone is like that, and not every coven is like that. And while, yes, that may be true - I will explain why I take extreme issue with this: 

If it were just a few bad apples, then why did every group I encountered have predatory issues? Every-one. 

Even the groups I didn’t engage with, I couldn’t because I was underaged - specifically because of the sexual interactions. By their own admittance. What degree those interactions are? We’ll never know - but their is a greater, underlying, systemic issue when a group - or a faith - by doctrine - is so sexually oriented. Let’s take out the issue of minors - full grown ass adults can be manipulated and abused. So if you’re entire religion is based so heavily on illicit activities, there is a greater issue. If it is a *requirement* - that is a problem. And the only reason to have strict 18+ limits on a religion  is if it is a *requirement*. That is a cult. If it is simply one option amongst many, than to each their own - however you want to personally and privately practice, more power to you - but if it is only an option, then there is no need to preach or practice it in an entire public group setting, and then in that case no need to exclude minors.

Also, much later on we discovered that the “Coven” my friend was a part of was, for lack of better description, just a giant orgy. They pressured her into getting birth control so she could engage “unrestricted” in their activities. What we, the idiots, believed was so much power and strength and confidence we discovered later on that everyone else just called her a whore - because what this group had psychologically instilled in her was you get what you want through sex. They had oversexualized her and way too young, and impressionable age - So she had sex with anyone, and everyone, for whatever reason. She thought she was “empowered”, but even now - to this day (or at least, the last time I talked to her in our adult lives) I don’t think she fully comprehends what they did to her. She is absolutely not empowered.

Even to this day, this argument continues in the Pagan community. As recently as a month ago I was engaged in a debate about initiating minors. Sex is ALWAYS argued as being a part of the craft. Now, read me clearly - I am not discrediting sex magick, or anyone who decides to use it in their own craft, or anyone who decides to perform their rituals nude. If that is what feels right for you - do it. But there is a very profound difference between deciding what is right for you, and being told that *THIS* is *HOW* you *DO IT*. Do you know how many times I have heard that “Skyclad” is the *right* way to perform your magic? That is you’re not doing it, then your ritual or workings will be less affective? That you cannot properly attune yourself if you’re clothed?  The list goes on and on. Do you know how many times I have heard the Great Rite defended and heralded as the “most powerful” initiation ??? Or the most spiritual ritual ? That it has a solid and sacred place in the working, speaking of it in a manner as if it should be a goal for everyone at some point or another to engaged in this ritual at some point in their journey, or else they haven’t truly achieved....whatever it is they are touting should be achieved. Nirvana, enlightenment, higher vibrations....whatever. These arguments I have had as recently as yesterday. And continue to be regular topics of discussion and shaming - right on up there with cultural appropriation. 

And no - not everyone is going to behave this way or condone these activities, I am aware of that. There will inevitably be people out there who identify as Wiccan that will be adamantly against these things - but the issue with being either the rule or the exception is doctrine and dogma. And believe you me - this IS indoctrinated in the faith. This is Dogma. Read Gardener’s work - look at his beliefs. Follow his structure and rules. When it is expected of the followers. When it is a standard, or default. When it is a tenet of a faith - that is when it becomes a problem. That is when you start walking the line of a Cult. 

And It is these very teachings that are why this is so pervasive in our community. You see it blasted all over the blogs, in our circulars and magazines. Predators are so prevalent in our community, because this man - this cult - has not only normalized it, but teach it as a tenet of the faith. And Wicca itself has become so indoctrinated in the community, that people forget - EVERY DAY- That Wicca isn’t the ONLY path out there, and that their rules aren’t the ONLY rules. Raise your hands if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by the Three Fold Law.  Look how long it took me to figure out that wasn’t the only path out there? AND I had family that were pagans, and it STILL took me that long! Granted, I had the very wrong idea of what Wicca actually was from the get go, but I didn’t know how to distinguish it from anything else. I didn’t know how to separate it from paganism as a whole.  I luckily had family in the community who stepped in after my ordeal with the Covens - and not only helped me heal, and protected me - and were the catalysts in them being investigated and arrested. Luckily these people were able to actually step in and help straighten out things I had “learned”, and guide me in a real way. Not everyone has that, and now with the internet, there are even more avenues for newcomers and the innocent and naïve to be led astray. And they will take it as gospel - as my friends and I once did - because they are searching, and don’t know any better. And those are the very type that Cults prey upon.....and whadoya know, those are also the very same ones to fall into the Wiccan claws - that is a cult. 

People will also try to argue how...well, how big it is. Nothing that far-reaching or popular can be a cult. But I’d point you to a certain Big Blue building down in Florida and kindly suggest you find a new argument - that’s not flying here. Size nor influence matters. And no, that does not mean every single person that identifies as Wiccan is horrible or delusional or evil  or a predator - but as much as a few bad apples don’t make the whole batch bad; a few good apples in a tainted orchard doesn’t suddenly save the whole grove.

-M

#wiccan #pagan #paganis #Wicca is a sex cult #wicca is a cult #not all pagans are wiccan #cults #warning signs #red flags #signs of abuse #survivor stories #victims speak #unpopular opinion #controversial opinion #sex magic #sex magick #great rite #mordi #mordigen #madd mordi