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mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

ok ok so my request 👉🏻👈🏻

it’s the most obvious thing but i have a full crush on bakugou, so can you please write about him x male reader, where the reader is like.. having nightmares or almost doesn’t sleep because of his quirk (idk like maybe he can hear something special or predict anything bad, doesn’t really matter) but feels safe around bakugou so he always falls asleep around him or even oN him and katsuki is like “😡(❤️)shit whatever” and the reader is kinda shy about that but totally ok with their friends being like “wow bro that’s kinda gay :> ” because he is comfortable with “oh that’s because i aM the gay✌🏻” and his classmates love him and everything and would never mock.. but one time someone from another class was really really rude bcs of that or said that katsuki hates it so the reader starts to avoid bakugou and bakugou geTS MAD about it because reader is just his and no one else’s >:0 maybe a little confession from him in the end, maybe some.. *gay coughing* angy k*ss from him

please make it angsty but with a fluffy ending please please and thank you very much in advance💙 sorry if it’s too big i can’t explain my thoughts properly thaha

Bruh I just realized how long this request is 💀💀 also look at me, writing it like decades after you requested it 😭 pls enjoy I’m actually quite proud of it (also isn’t that gif perfect hahah get it bc the prompt was abt like sleeping and bakugou’s sleeping and-yeah I’ll let u read now)

——————

Bakugou x reader - Angry Insomniacs

⚠️Warnings - mild arguing, it’s not that bad

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“Why are you always fuckin’ sleeping on me?”

It first started during the Sports Festival. The chicken race and cavalry battle really took a toll on (Y/n), and he was suffering harsh quirk drawbacks. That, being drowsiness.

Somewhere on the stands, (y/n’s) eyes grew heavier and heavier until he realized he had fallen asleep. He also didn’t realized until he woke up that no one disturbed him when he was near Bakugou. Be it fear, or just plain respect, (Y/n) seemed to get the best rest when he was with Bakugou. Not even Iida dared to wake him up when he dosed off on Bakugous shoulder.

He always made it a point to be in Bakugous vicinity when ever he could, taking naps with his head buried in his arms next to Bakugou at lunch, or having his head resting on his shoulder in the dorms.

“Oi! Don’t drift off on me!”

“Mm? Sorry, Bakugou.”

(Y/n) rubbed his eyes as he weakly pushed off the common room couch, stretching and yawning as he did so. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“N-no, dumbass! Fuck kinda question is that, shit-for-brains?!”

“I’ll see you there later then, Bakugou.” (Y/n) gave a slight nod, Bakugou practically foaming at the mouth already, before trotting off the continue his nap in his own room.

Before heading to his room though, he walked into the kitchen to grab a post-nap time snack. Tsuyu, who was already digging in the fridge, stepped back so (Y/n) could grab whatever he wanted.

Tsu eyed (Y/n’s) slightly tousled hair. “Did you take another nap on bakugou-chan? Kero.”

(Y/n) hummed out a “yes.” Tsu hummed back in acknowledgment. Kaminari and Kirishima, unintentionally, started listening in from their place in the kitchen after hearing Bakugou being mentioned.

Tsuyu put a finger to her lip. “Ne, (Y/n)-chan, why do you always take naps on Bakugou-chan? It’s always him, kero, and you go out of your way to make sure it’s only him.”

“Why?” (Y/n) pulled off the carton of milk stubbornly hanging on to the fridge. “Because I like Bakugou. Duh. And I sleep better near people I like.

Kaminari gasped comically while Kirishima sputtered and choked on his words. Not just listening anymore, Kaminari but in. “L-like? Like, ‘like’-like?!”

Kaminari and Kirishima joined Tsuyu and (Y/n) near the fridge. (Y/n) nodded out an “mm-hm.”, whilst grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“So you’re like...” Kirishima made wild, indecipherable, gestures with his hand. Eventually, after realizing no one was taking the hint, brought his voice down to a whisper.

“...like...gay..?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?!” Kaminari grasped at his blond hair. (Y/n) thought for a moment, poured himself a glass of milk, and shrugged.

“I don’t know. You never asked.”

“And you’re so comfortable just telling us now? Why, kero-kero?”

“Because I’m gay as fuuuuuck.” (Y/n) took a swig of milk like it was a shot of whiskey. “And it’s not like it was a secret or anything.”

“Though I don’t think Bakugou knows. He’s too angry about me sleepin’ on him all the time to actually care about me.”

(Y/n) polished off his glass of milk. He set the cup down gently into the sink. “Eh, it’s not like I actually care for what he thinks about me.”

“See ya, I’m gonna finish my nap.”

“Uh-bye”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye, kero.”

———

(Y/n) yawned as his head lolled off of Bakugou’s shoulder. He hissed, dusting off his shoulder angrily.

“Go sleep somewhere else!”

“I’m just goin’ to the bathroom, Bakugou, I’ll be back. Keep your shoulder warm for me.”

(Y/n) weakly stood up from his chair, and sluggishly walked out of the cafeteria. Damn, his feet felt heavy. Maybe if he hurried to the bathroom, he’d get back in time to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Bakugou exploded on him or lunch ended.

(Y/n’s) shoulder accidentally caught on someone else’s, making him stumble back and rub his shoulder. Monoma tilted his chin up in a mocking fashion.

“Ara? Is that (L/n) (Y/n) from class 1-A I see?”

(Y/n) nodded, only half processing his words as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Monoma followed somewhat behind, spewing words and one-liners that went in one ear and out the other. That is, until,

“Honestly, you would’ve thought that angry blond kid would’ve told you by now”.

(Y/n’s) ear perked up. He halted to a stop, Monoma following suit and shoving his hands smugly in his pockets. “What’s this about Bakugou?”

“Oh? He really didn’t tell you, huh? That’s...” Monoma stifled a condescending snicker. “...surprising.”

(Y/n) stepped closer. “C’mon man, tell me what?”

Monoma sighed. “Well,”

“I heard that Mr. Blasty, matter-o-factly,” Monoma jabbed his pointer finger into (Y/n’s) chest. “Really, really hates it when you sleep on, or near him. Actually,”

“I think he just hates you in general.”

(Y/n) furrowed his brows. He’s lying. He’s lying. He likes him, doesn’t he? Bakugou likes him, or else he wouldn’t have lead him on for so long, right?

Because he wouldn’t let just anyone sleep on his shoulder...right?

“You’re lying.”

“Well, believe what you want, honestly,” Monoma made a show of crossing his arms dramatically. “But you should see the way he shit-talks and glares at you in you’re sleep. It’s not like he can push you off though, you’re ‘just so persistent you’ll never leave him the fuck alone’.”

(Y/n) shoved his hands in his pockets. Monoma raised his hands in defense. “His words, not mine.”

(Y/n) turned on his heel and began to speed walk to the bathroom. Monoma yelled out from his spot in the empty hallway.

“Oh? You don’t want to hear what he thinks about your little crush on him?”

(Y/n) froze. He was under the assumption that everyone but him knew, could he be wrong? He pressed his lips into a fine line, turning around as composedly as he could. Though, he couldn’t mask the fearful curiosity in his eyes.

Monoma grinned. It was an unpleasant, sarcastic grin, one that didn’t look peaceful or pleasing at all.

“Well, I doubt that there’s anything to to say at all, so does it really ma-“

“What...what does he say about me?” (Y/n’s) voice quivered. He knew he was falling into Monoma’s trap, that he was just trying to provoke him, that he was looking for any kind of reaction, but his curiosity got the best of him. It really did, because Monoma’s words stabbed spears into (Y/n’s) heart, word by word.

“Blasty thinks it’s fucking disgusting how you like him, like, as another dude. Like honestly, he thinks you take him for an idiot for thinking he actually didn’t know! And the fact you sleep so close to him know full well you want to get in his pants?! He thinks you’re a pervert! A lazy shit! A fag! Ahahaha!”

Monoma loud cackles were cut short when he suddenly slumped over. He sunk to the ground, revealing Kendo, holding one big hand up and the other to her waist. She most likely knocked Monoma out once she heard his condescending retorts from the cafeteria.

Kendo sighed, bending down the haul Monoma’s arm over her shoulder. Her heavy glare softened once she caught sight of (Y/n’s) buggy eyed face starting at the ground where Monoma was.

“Sorry...he didn’t say anything too harsh, right?” Kendo’s words were gentle, but they sounded practically inaudible to (Y/n’s) traumatized ears.

He wordlessly staggered past her, heading back into the cafeteria to grab his lunch and sit elsewhere. He supposed he wouldn’t bother Bakugou anymore. Since he’s so damn ‘persistent’, he figured he’d stop bothering him for the rest of the day.

He wished he wasn’t so curious about what Bakugou thought of him. Like people say, ignorance is bliss. He could’ve gone his whole high school career without knowing Bakugou hated his every being. How was he going to face him in class knowing every pointer glare, every scoff, every insult was genuine?

(Y/n) felt his throat tighten. For the first time in years, (L/n) (Y/n) was fully awake.

——

It was the first time in many months that (Y/n) didn’t sit in the seat next to Bakugou, napping in his presence. He’d done it every day no fail, that is until this week. Actually, this is the 6th consecutive day he didn’t take a nap at all.

(Y/n) sat placid in his assigned seat, eyes wide and trying to keep awake. He couldn’t sleep without thinking of Bakugou, and every time he did it was always him scoffing and turning his back on him.

Every few seconds, (Y/n) would jolt harshly in his seat, rocking back and forth like a drug addict in withdrawal. He stared at his desk with eyes that could kill someone, and he dug his hands into his forearms to keep himself somewhat awake.

He didn’t hear Kirishima calling his name until he snapped his fingers infront of his face. The snap rang like a gunshot, surprising (Y/n) from his trance so badly he jolted back like he got electrocuted. Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“You...ok man...?”

(Y/n’s) dry eyes landed fixed onto Kirishima. He relaxed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was taking. “M’fine...”

His voice cracked like it hadn’t been used for days. (Y/n) let his eyes drift back forward, hunching back over and huddling his body like he was trying to squeeze himself to death. When Kirishima gave him a skeptical glare and crossed his arms, (Y/n) let out a small “m’ just tired, that’s all...” and gave the most pathetic smile known to man.

“If you’re so tired,” Mina, rested her arms on the back of (Y/n’s) chair. “Why don’t you sleep on Bakugou like you do every morn-“

“NO! I-I can’t do that!” (Y/n) whipped his head back, gripping the back of his chair so hard his hand turned white. Mina and Kirishima flinched, noticeably caught off guard with his sudden outburst. “I...can’t...I can’t do that...”

(Y/n) suddenly looked very awake, contrasting the way he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open the whole time they were in class.

(Y/n’s) breath steadied as he shut his mouth awkwardly. “M’sorry...for yelling...didn’t mean to...”

(Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was already wearing off. Mina set her dainty pink hand on (Y/n’s) hunched form. “Why not...?”

“I just can’t.”

(Y/n) said nothing more. He went back to his occasional jolts awake and scrubbing his heavy eyes every 2 minutes. Kirishima sighed, shaking his head towards Bakugou, before shrugging his shoulders then forming an ‘X’ with his hands.

Bakugou clicked his tongue angrily, turning and facing back forward in his seat.

——

(Y/n) was practically seeing stars by the end of hero’s class.

It was a relatively simple assignment, 1 on 1 sparring, but it caused a lot of quirk use.

He fought both his tired eyes and Midoryia, but ultimately failing due to his harsh quirk drawbacks. Midoryia barely had to break a sweat to have (Y/n) come toppling down.

(Y/n) was ushered back into the horde of students murmuring “don’t mind” and “you did great!”, but he just slithered past and stood a few feet away from them, all the way in the back of the field.

All might was explaining something (Y/n) couldn’t quite hear. Not only because he was standing so far away, but because his hearing had been considerably wonky, not to mention the hissing, ringing sound irritating his eardrums.

“Oi.”

And even if the ringing had stopped and he could hear, his brain was too tuckered out to remember anything past five seconds ago.

“Oi!”

Gosh, speaking of his brain-

“OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! YOU GONNA KEEP IGNORING ME OR YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDIN’ ME?!”

Bakugou set off a small explosion. The blast wasn’t nearly as loud or powerful as in combat, but to a tired mans ears, it sounded like nukes. The ringing in (Y/n’s) ears spiked, and he cupped his ears tightly.

“B-Bakugou, nows not-“

“OH, YOU TRYNA TUNE ME OUT BY COVERIN’ YOUR EARS NOW?!” Another explosion. Bakugou’s gauntlets had been out for repairs since his last hero training, so (Y/n) could clearly see the glowing red and yellow spark from his fist. The ringing spiked again. His vision burned with sparks.

(Y/n) winced, saying nothing, and brought his hands to rub at his eyes. Bakugou eyebrow twitched.

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

Bakugou brought his hand out, his gloved hand starting to glow red with his next explosion. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore.

He stumbled forward, and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist. He shoved it out of the way, but his hand still ignited and set off a blast that propelled them straight to the ground.

“G-get off-a me!” Bakugou tried pushing (Y/n) off with his free hand.

(Y/n) pinned Bakugou’s glowing right hand by the wrist, using his other to hold down his other shoulder. (Y/n) would’ve never done something as ballsy and stupid as this, but he was too tired, too done, too much in pain to care.

“What are you actually trying to say!? All that stupid extra yelling and petty insults, they get you fucking nowhere! Spit it out! Or does trying to intimidate every single fucking person you meet just self-satisfaction?!”

Bakugou growled. He grabbed at (Y/n’s) shoulders, pushing off of him and pinning (Y/n) to the ground in his place.

“Then what about you, huh?!” Bakugou was angrily spitting at (Y/n’s) face. “Why the fuck did you stop getting enough sleep for your quirk?! Are you just that dumb that you stay up at night?!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from a stupid fucker like you, who can’t even take care of himself!”

(Y/n) hissed. He freed his dominant hand from Bakugou’s vice grip and pushed at Bakugou’s face, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “All you ever do is shit talk! Shut up! No one thinks it’s fucking cool!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?!”

The two wrestled on the ground, angrily grabbing and tugging at each other, and rolling around on the floor. There were shouts of “get Aizawa-no, get midnight-sensei!” and “All might, stop them!”, but the two were so caught up in their fight they couldn’t hear anything.

“Can’t you ever learn to mind your fucking Business?!”

“What the fuck does that even have to do with this!”

(Y/n) flipped Bakugou over one more time. He pushed him down by the forehead, pushing his head down into the ground while Bakugou flailed and kicked from underneath him.

“SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU EVEN FUCKIN’ CARE, BAKUGOU?! WHY DO...w-why do...wh...”

A sweet, sweet smell flooded (Y/n’s) senses. It smelt relaxing, tantalizing, it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad. Maybe he could just...

(Y/n) slowly sank from his spot on top of Bakugou, flopping on top of his body and going completely slack. Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he covered his nose.

Midnight strutted from above the two, waving away a few stray wisps of her mist. Bakugou hacked out a new breath, while (Y/n) laid on top of him, peacefully asleep for the first time in days.

“Well, it seems like you two already know without me saying it.” Midnight motioned over to two small robots carrying a stretcher. “I’ll just take him to recovery girl and he should wake up in-“

Bakugou pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around (Y/n’s) sleeping figure when Midnight extended her arm towards them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n).

“I’ll do it. S-since this piece of shit attacked me first and...I’ll just do it-!”

Midnight eyed him knowingly, before waving him off and mumbling something about ‘youth’.

——

(Y/n’s) eyes fluttered open. His body felt like it was broken in every way possible. It was so sore, it hurt even thinking about moving. (Y/n) laid there, with his eyes half open, contemplating whether or not he should close them again.

Would he be able to sleep, though? Even if he’d started sleeping near Bakugou as a ‘don’t-wake-me-up’ measure, it slowly stopped being just that and more a matter of he felt safe and comfortable around him. In a way, he’s become a bit dependent on him, which is probably a bad thing, but he didn’t care.

Sleeping with Bakugou felt best. But that wasn’t an option, now was it?

(Y/n) pursed his lips, an involuntary groan rumbling from his tired vocal cords. He continued staring at the blinding nurse office lights, staring until he saw spots in his vision.

“Stop doing that-do you wanna go fuckin’ blind?”

(Y/n) flinched. He hated the way that familiar, aggravated voice still stirred butterflies into his stomach. He glanced to his side, as if to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

He met eyes with Bakugou.

“Bout’ time you fuckin’ woke up. Been waitin’ forever, shit-for-brains.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes back up to the blinding floodlights. Bakugou scowled. “Oi! Don’t ignore m-“

“How long were you here for?”

Bakugou went silent. It was his turn to avert his eyes, albeit more angrily.

“...I was here since you fuckin’ fainted in class, idiot. I even carried your stupid body here from the dumbass carrier bots.”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened, unlike Bakugou’s, who glared at the floor just beside the chair he was sitting in. (Y/n) checked the big black clock mounted on top of Recovery Girl’s desk.

It was 6:00 pm.

If Bakugou was telling the truth, he’d been sitting there waiting for him to wake up for 4 hours straight.

“Bakugou-its been hours since class ended-you should be at the dorms by now-! Why did you-“

“Well if you told me why you suddenly started avoiding me we wouldn’t be here right now!”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. Bakugou scoffed. “Well?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth, but it clamped shut when Monoma’s words echoed in his mind. Bakugou looked at him with an expectant face.

“I can’t tell you.”

“WH-“ Bakugou sputtered angrily. “COURSE YOU CAN! THE FUCKS STOPPING YOU!”

“Nothing I-I just can’t!”

“WHY!? WHY NOT?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

“OK AND?! I LOVE YOU TOO!”

“THEN WHATS THE PROBLEM HERE!” (Y/n) shouted, before he cupped his mouth in realization. Bakugou’s eyes went wide aswell. “Wait I didn’t mean that-“

“YEAH! WHATS THE FUCKIN PROBLEM HERE?!” Bakugou recovered from his initial shock, already back to yelling. (Y/n) furrowed his brows with a blush.

“Wh..wait so-“

“I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME, SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STOP SLEEPING ON ME?!”

“Wait but...” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you, y’know...not like it...when I do that-?”

“DUMBASS! WHERE’D YOU GET THAT FROM?!” It seemed like Bakugou got angrier and angrier each passing second. It was hard to tell what (Y/n) found so attractive about him.

“From...from Monoma...?”

Bakugou looked angrier than ever. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “YOU-I CAN’T BELIEVE-! I-! FUCK IT!”

Bakugou snarled and practically shoved his face onto (Y/n’s), angrily stealing his breath away with a kiss. The kiss, surprisingly, was soft and gentle, despite Bakugou’s previous intensity. It seemed to calm Bakugou down, and cheer (Y/n) up.

The two slowly parted for air. It was quiet for a second, something that rarely happened near Bakugou.

“I thought you hated me...”

“W-why the fuck would I hate you...dumbass.” Bakugou rested his forehead on (Y/n’s) shoulder. His spiky tufts of blond hair tickling (Y/n’s) face.

“Because Monoma said so...?”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Bakugou snarled, climbing into the cot (Y/n) was in. He pushed (Y/n) back down into the pillow, pulling up the white blanket and laying down next to him. He guided (Y/n’s) head-a tad bit forcefully-to his chest. “...after we sleep.”

Bakugou shut his eyes, half irritated and half embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled tiredly. He nuzzled his head into Bakugou’s chest.

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

——

Extra:

Monoma walked into class 1-B the next morning. He yawned, still a bit tired, when he ran straight into someone.

“Hey, copycat fucker.”

Monoma looked up. The class was empty, with no one but Bakugou standing infront of him.

Fuck.

Needless to say, Bakugou got another 3 days of house arrest.

——————

Bru this was so long ong

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakusquad #bakugou x male reader #bakugo x male reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x y/n #mha #mha fic #bnha #bnha fic #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #mr scifijiz

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ladydeznutz · 3 years

Text

When He Loved Me (Peter Parker x Reader)

A/N: My first fic and it's angst that came into my head around 3am. I've always wanted to write fics, but I didn't like how I wrote and I was embarrassed. First time writing for others so I tried to keep away from using just she/her pronouns, but if that's what you'd like just lemme know

I can write for other fandoms, and imma make a list of the fandoms I like bc I have so many I forget. I'll also add some other things if it interests me. Not comfortable with nsfw just yet so apologies. Anyways, enjoy the fic ig and please give me criticism if you see something wrong

idk how tumblr works with spacing and all that so hopefully this comes decent looking

Prompt: Please, don't leave me.

TW: S**cide mention

Every day had started to feel the same to you for a while now.

It started when he began missing date nights with you. He was always so excited about them, and then they were happening less and less often. You still saw him on occasion, but it felt more like "business" than anything else.

You didn't get the same giddy feeling you used to get when you'd see him; it felt like going out with him was more of a chore. You couldn't even complain to him about it even if you wanted to. Anytime you did see him long enough, he was always gone within a second, always in a rush. You never knew what he even did with himself or if he was thinking about you at all.

It definitely didn't help that you'd always catch him hanging out with his friends. You confronted Ned about it, but he was always so dismissive. Hell, you had even talked to Michelle about the whole thing. At first, she sympathized, but then it was as if a switch was flipped. You used to go to her to vent about Peter and the relationship. Now, she was practically telling you that you were overreacting.

----

You felt like you were going to have a mental breakdown.

Learning about a loved one's passing is always one of the hardest things for anyone to deal with, especially when it's someone you deeply care about.

You had just received the news that your best friend had killed himself a couple of hours ago.

You didn't know how to feel.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. There was no warning.

You and he had been friends since childhood, and you knew each other so well that neither one of you could even remember a time when the other wasn't around.

Your hands shook as you picked up the phone to call Peter. Your tears finally fell as you listened to the constant ringing of the phone, and you knew he wasn't going to answer. Rage grew within you as you heard his voicemail message causing you to throw your phone across the room. It crashed into the wall and broke, but you didn't pay any mind to it as you fell to the ground and let out a wailed sob.

Why did this have to happen?

You could barely catch your breath between sobs.

Your body shook.

You didn't care about anything anymore.

You didn't care about Peter anymore.

----

Weeks had passed, and Peter was exhausted.

Tracking down a gang, taking them down, and meeting another Spider-Man had just been a lot for him to take in. He was so tired, he didn't even want to think about it anymore. His back ached as he climbed through his window.

He was just so damned tired.

He stripped out of his suit, took off his web-shooters, and placed them back in his closet. Then, he took a quick shower.

His job was a bit easier to have Ned and MJ know he was Spider-Man. Now he just had to tell you.

Peter stood in the middle of the room and weighed out what would happen. He felt sorry for lying to you, and he knew that he was being distant. He just didn't have the courage to deal with any of it because he was worried about you. He couldn't lose you too.

As Peter lied down to finally get some rest, he wondered how you were doing. Karen had said you tried calling him, but he couldn't answer he had been in the middle of a stakeout.

He got up and rummaged through his book bag to get his phone, turning it on to scroll through his messages. He sat up as he realized how many he had gotten. Had something happened?

As he scrolled through, his heart broke. So many people had posted about the loss of Jay and were gossiping about why he did it. When he finally went through them all, he looked at your one missed call and gulped.

You had called him that day, and he didn't pick up.

He clicked the voice mail and listened to the message. All that he could hear were your pained sniffles, a shout, and then the line cut off.

He felt sick as he replayed the message.

Peter already felt awful about lying to you; he had to fix this. He quickly texted you, put his web-shooters back on, and was ut the window.

He knew the way to your house, so it took him no time to et there. As he was getting ready to knock on your window, he did a double-take and took a closer look.

Someone was sitting in your room; it looked like he had been waiting for you. Peter quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the guy. He was wearing a red and green jacket with shorts and sneakers. He also looked like he was wearing tights?

Suddenly, you walked into the room, so Peter backed away from the window to hide in the shadows. You seemed to be upset as you were wiping your eyes quite a bit.

"I'm sorry Miles. I didn't think I'd start crying like that," you said as you sat on your bed.

"Hey, it's okay," he replied as he stood up and moved closer to you. You sniffled as you tried to regain your composure. Peter didn't quite know how to react. Who was this? What was going on?

"I just...he..." you groan out in frustration as you grip your hair. Miles' eyes widen as he sees tears start flowing from your eyes again.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug as you shake your head.

"It's complicated, and besides, that's what our therapy's for" you chuckle dryly. Miles' eyes wander the room as he tries to think of something to do to cheer you up. "How 'bout we go out tonight?" he suggests.

"I don't like the tone of that voice" you sass as you turn to give him a look. Peter watches Miles turn around, and his eyes widen. Miles was wearing a suit, a Spider-Man suit. The same Spider-Man he saw the other week.

"Any place you wanna go to, we'll go" he adds with a cheeky smile. "Really? You're not busy?" You cross your arms as you stare him down.

"Nah, night's been quiet. Besides, I might be busy tomorrow, then you'd miss your favorite person in the world" he winks as you begin to smile. Peter's heart sank as he realized what was happening. He thwipped a web to the building across from yours and sat down on the edge of the roof. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text.

Can we talk tomorrow?

Giggling could be heard from across the street. Peter looked up and bit his lip as you glanced at your phone and threw it on your bed. You got onto Miles' back, and you both swung away.

----

After you tried calling Peter that day, you stopped reaching out to him altogether. You decided that you'd wait to talk to him until he finally realized you weren't there. It had been about five weeks, and in those five weeks, you had gone to therapy and counseling.

You met Miles in counseling. He was sweet but seemed to get off topic a lot. When you were getting ready to leave one session, he had come up to you, put his hand on your shoulder, and let out a simple "Hey." One thing led to another, and you had both bonded over your losses. You went to Miles' uncle's funeral, and he went to Jay's funeral with you.

You were currently sitting on a swing at the playground as you waited for Peter. It was taking him forever to show, and at this point, you wanted to get this whole conversation over with.

Frowning, you looked around, wondering why he was taking so long. He should've been here by now. Maybe he decided not to come after all.

When that thought crossed your mind, you scoffed and stood up. Before you could go anywhere, however, you felt someone gently grab your hand. Looking back, you saw Peter staring at you with a small smile on his face.

"You came."

"Of course I did"

Peter pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around you. You take a deep breath as you stare off towards the slide. He pulls away when he realizes you're not hugging him back. The both of you pull away awkwardly as you look at each other.

"Peter-" "(Y/N)-" both of you speak at the same time.

"I- I have o tell you something" he starts with a stutter. You wait patiently as you motion for him to continue. "I know th-that I've been....not here for you for a while-" he cuts himself off when he hears you scoff.

"I.....I had these things, and I should've told you as soon as we started dating, and I'm sorry. I know I've been an asshole, more than that actually" you roll your eyes and shake your head as he continues.

"I just.....I love you, and I want you to know that even though I don't show it a lot" he finishes as he rubs the back of his head nervously.

The good thing about coming to this park was that there was usually no one here, and you were glad no one was here right now because boy were you fuming. "Told me about what Parker?" Your hand goes to your hip as you glare at him.

"W-Well....uhm......that guy that you talk to.......I'm like him I guess. Spider-Man." Your eyes widen when you hear the first part. "How the hell do you know I've been talking to someone?"

Peter stumbles with his words as he realizes he's been caught red-handed, "Uh...I was gonna visit yesterday, and I kinda....saw you..talking to him....." You narrow your eyes as you pick up a stick and throw it at him. He ducked before he could get hit, but you were already in his face.

"You were spying on me?!"

"I-I wasn't trying to! I was just-"

"Christ Peter!" All this time of you not being here, and now all of a sudden you just wanna show up out of nowhere because of what?! Jay?! Is that why you're finally talking to me?!" Panic stirs in Peter's eyes as he tries to come up with an excuse.

"I tried so hard to get you to talk to me, and you only wanna talk now because of that shit?! Peter, I can't do this shit with you anymore. I don't care if you're Spider-Man; what was the point of not telling me in the first place?! We live in New York for God's sake!!"

Your face is red as you frustratingly wipe away your tears with your forearm. Peter stays silent as he watches you; he can't say anything right now because you've hit the nail on the head.

"Y-You know what, fuck this. I can't do this shit any-anymore, Peter. But please tel-tell me; w-what did I do wrong? I di-did my best to keep both of us h-h-happy. Please, just tell me what I did wr-wrong." Your words are barely recognizable as you hold yourself to keep you're shaking body still.

Peter steps forward, but instead of stopping him like he thought you would, he cups your face gently as he looks into your eyes.

"(Y/N).....I'm so sorry I made you think this was all your fault. You did make me happy; you still do. I just...I've been so busy being Spider-man that I've neglected you, and I'm sorry for that. But I do still love you, (Y/N). I swear I'll stop doing everything just for you. I-I'll give up being Spider-Man."

You watch him unravel as he keeps talking. You can't bring yourself to care, however, as he spills his heart out. Too much disappointment has built up over the months.

"Pete...."

"Please......(Y/N), just give me another chance. I'll do anything, just please, don't leave me." His voice is soft and insecure as he begs you, almost quivering as he says it. It doesn't invoke any sort of feeling in you though. His sad eyes watch as you pull away from him,

"I'm sorry Peter" you whisper softly as you turn around and walk away.

He doesn't run after you or even shout.

Peter simply watches you walk away until you're out of view. The only thing he can hear is your footsteps as they fade into the distance.

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

A/N: Alright so...this whole thing was based on how I could see him being Spider-Man in the beginning ig? Imo I feel like between him and Miles, the latter would be the first to tell you he's Spider-Man

And I always felt like him being away like that with no real reason would make an s/o feel like it's their fault or sumn. Like, I've always seen fics where he and the reader always make up about it, but I wanted to try the bad ending where even though he had good intentions, he's just not ready to handle being a hero, student, and partner.

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #miles morales #miles morales x reader #marvel mcu #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #peter parker imagine

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angelthebedsheet · 3 years

Note

If you’re ok with it, could you do Hawks, Todoroki, Shinsou, Bakugo and Kaminari with a black support engineer s/o with big curly hair and stretched ears? Maybe she wears gauges with their hero theme? Just some cute fluff!

a/n: oooooh bitch okayyyyy!! i like that! hawks my lil bird bitch ✋🏽🥺

your quirk! super brain.

what is it? you have the ability to memorize things easily, piece complex puzzles together, make great strategies. you essentially are a megamind. you are incredibly smart invention-wise. you are skilled in support hero work so you are one of the go to’s for hero modifications, suits and basic designs.

hero name? hakim: the tinker hero

why the name hakim? from what i searched up it has arabic and african significance and it’s one of the 99 names based on the attributes of Allah. the two famous bearers of this name were hakim ajmal khan, the india physician and hakim muhammad saeed, a pakistani medical researcher. if i got any of this wrong please message me so i can fix this! i want to stay as respectful as possible as i love to include names that hold a message!

i might have to split this into two parts bc this gets long!! i just assumed reader is fem presenting bc you can use feminine pronouns and not be a girl like me. also disclaimer i only take 4 characters at a time per request but i dont think at the time of this request i had finalized my requirements in my masterlist so IMMA LET IT SLIDE. sorry this is late as SHIT. lets get it!

——————————————————————————

Hawks

okay we all know he’s a lil shit

and we all know how he be

you are working on your next commission piece in your studio when your window opens

you can only sigh

“what happened kei.”

“now birdie dont get mad now okay”

“what did you do.”

“i may have.... broke my visor and destroyed my jacket?”

how the fuck do you do that.

“what.”

“ahahah...”

boot to the face

when you two were first dating

which was back in hs

you helped him figure out how his hero costume would be along with how they would sit comfortably on his wings

i mean i love the idea of you roasting him while measuring him

“where’s your fuckin DRIP kei.”

“y/n PLEASE. i came here to get a new costume not get slandered”

“well you jus gon have to deal with it sugar, especially when you look like a mess.”

he had definitely bought you so many gauges that have little red feathers hanging from it

or simply his initials hanging from it to the point where you just wear one of his feathers around your neck

marking his territory and making sure you are safe

protective and trendy!

i hc that he has alot of bird like tendencies so you probably have to stop him from stealing the lil shiny things you have

your nuts and bolts allat

“keigo put my bolt down”

“but its so SHINY”

“NO.”

cue keigo’s WHINING

sometimes he just sits on his stool you put for him and play with your ears

like he’ll stare at them and ask you questions

“do they hurt?”

“kei im trying to focus”

“like they’re all stretched how long did they take?”

or he’ll bounce your curls

you’re just polishing a piece of hero gear

here comes kei silently sitting on his stool and gently grabbing a strand of your hair

pulling it down then you hear a quiet

“boing”

i hc that kei has adhd, has lil tic and has to fidget

(can you tell i self project onto majority of them)

(i mean hawks’ quirk must be IMMACULATE for fidgeting 😫👌🏽👌🏽)

(its dead his fault why i have a pretty bird tic)

and one day

“kei baby, here.” you said as you handed him a box. he cocked his head slightly as he looked at it. “what is this, dove?” he asked as he took the box. “well, i made you something to help with your fidgets.” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. his wings puffed out as he smiled. he opened the box and gasped. you watched as his eyes brightened while he took out the keychain fidget toy. it has multiple sides to it. metal rings connected by two hoops, red, white and beige plastic bangs that were at the ends with two small red feathers at the chains. you watched as he bit his lips and tried not to cause a big reaction. “do you like it, pretty bird?” you asked. he nodded and pulled you into a hug. “thank you so much, baby.” he said into your shoulder. “and you can hook it onto your pants. cute, right?” you said as you gently rubbed his back. “yep, i’m cuddling the fuck outta you. lets go.” he said as he let you go and sweeped you up into his arms. you squealed with a giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck as he ran to the bedroom.

Todoroki Shouto

yall are in hs okay no time skips lmao

todoroki loves EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

i mean he has so many sneaky pics of you working on your projects

oil on the cheek, gloves, goggles

straight up working in your zone

he will post on his story sometimes like

“look at my s/o”

“they’re working hard”

dry ass cute shit yk?

he carries scrunchies and glass cleaners 24/7

you take your projects on the go so he’ll just take out a scrunchie and neatly pull them curls back into a pineapple

my mans lowkey was struggling at first bc DAMN

CURLS BE FIGHTIN HIM

love the idea of todoroki watching youtube tutorials bc he’s TIRED of getting his ass BEAT by them

he kinda gets a lil grossed out when you take out your gauges and your earlobe kinda just dangles

like earrings in? cool asf

them out? my mans fold like a lawn chair. he looks away or makes a stink face

“are they in?”

“yes they’re in you lil baby. you can try attempted murder but you can’t look at stretched earlobes?”

“shut UP”

he does internally swoon when you put in gauges that match his hair colour

like you love him that much? okay i see

he’s amazed by how you work

sometimes he’ll just stand behind you like a lil sibling in the door way

“mom said it’s my turn on the xbox.”

(not at how me and todoroki are both the youngest siblings)

when you saw his first hero costume you busted out LAUGHING

that day you roasted todoroki to the point where he left

“janitor looking ass. my nigga where you goin? a space adventure? scary ass.”

“😐 are you done.”

“space jam headass, lookin like a g.i joe action figure. terminator lookin ass.”

“alright im leaving”

“no wait come back andjajdjsba”

i hc that todoroki has panic and anxiety attacks and things like that

so you made him a little sumn sumn for his anxiety

“candy, look here for a second?” you called out, making todoroki hum and look up from his notebook. “what happened?” he asked as he cocked his head slightly. “made you something.” you said as you handed him a small box. his eyes light up as he gently took the box. “really? are you sure?” he questioned. you only nodded with a smile as you placed your pencil behind your ear. you watched as he carefully opened the box. he pulled out a tan clicker toy and smiled confused. “what’s this, bub?” he questioned as he placed the box down. “a fidget toy i made for you that can help with your anxiety. it can help ground you when you feel overwhelmed? hopefully? oh! it also has a music box feature.” you said as you pointed at the back of the toy. he silently turned the toy around and you leaned over and pressed a button that played a music box version of a pearl by mitski. you watched as his shoulders loosened up at the sound of his favorite song. he placed the toy down while he tried to hold his smile back. he sighed and smiled widely. “thank you, i love it, bubba.” he said sweetly. “i’m glad you like it.” you whispered. “may i kiss you?” he asked. you simply nodded before he gently cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. you pulled him into a hug.

#x black reader #x female reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #todoroki shouto x reader #hawks x reader #shinsou x reader #kaminari x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #bnha x reader

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katsukisblackteddy · 3 years

Note

AAAA IM SO GLAD I FOUND ANOTHER POC CREATER!! I read one of your imagines and I'm in love skcnsn- Now. For my ask- Can i have Iida or Baku x a chubby mixed girl 👉🏽👈🏽 Which ever you like writing for the most hun! I don't care if its sfe or nsfw- I just want my men 🙄🤚🏽 thank youuuu! 😚🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“A Mini Tenya!”

Soooo I decided to write this because Iida would literally be the best dad and omg the thought of Iida taking care of a child literally makes my heart gush.

Pairing: aged up! Iida x black!fem! Reader Pronouns: she/her Warnings: cursing (bc of boom boom boy), fluff

ALSO...

Thank you so much for requesting and for the sweet message! It means a lot 😊 also I decided to write for iida bc I haven’t written for him much, hope that’s okay!

I also want to take a small amount of time to address a few things that I’ve been seeing recently on a few posts and on tiktok. Apparently some people are trying to say that Iida and Bakugou wouldn’t have a poc (more specifically black s/o) and that they would say the n word. Bruh...what the hell? Lmaoo. So to those people who think that, y’all can fight me bc they aren’t insensitive boys and they definitely would have a black girl/boy/enby s/o bc i say so and they just have that EnErGy. DO NOT RUIN COMFORT CHARACTERS FOR PEOPLE PLEASE. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk....

CHILE ANYWAYS....on with it

Tenya sat on the large grey couch in the living room of your new home. The television was turned on to the news station, the volume down to almost silent as he looked from the television screen where a story about Midoriya was playing down to the small white blanket that sat in his arms. Tenya smiled, carefully running a finger over one of the baby’s soft tan chubby cheeks as the little one let out a small gurgle, moving closer to his father’s touch. His usually serious gaze then turned to look at you, as you snuggled into his side the both of you watching your tiny baby sleep. You were in one of Tenya’s large sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants, the warmth and the faint smell of his cologne were comforting.

It had been two weeks since you had given birth to your baby, a son you decided to name Tenzen. When you had told your husband that you wanted to use the first syllable of his name for your son’s, he almost started crying out of pride. And now he couldn’t wait to show you both off to his friends, unbelievably proud of you for your strength and for bringing your son into the world. The small baby began growing fussy, opening his eyes to reveal dark blueish grey eyes, just like his father’s. “Don’t cry Tenzen-kun. What’s wrong?” Iida asked softly, his eyes quickly searching over the baby to analyze the problem. “Are you hungry?”

“He can’t be yet, he ate like 15 minutes ago.” You added, “maybe he needs to be changed?” Tenya lifted the small baby, his face quickly morphing into a frown.

“He needs to be changed.” Iida agreed. “I’ll take care of it.” You let out a sigh, even though it had been two weeks, your body was still tired and you couldn’t help but love how hands on your husband was because it gave you time to rest.

“I’m going to jump in the shower.” You said, passing the nursery on your way to your master bedroom to freshen up before your friends came over. After your shower, you pulled on a simple long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of leggings stopping to look at yourself in the mirror.

Your body had changed some since you had been a student at UA and even since before you had had your son. Though you had never been a stick, at least that’s what Tenya called it, you hadn’t really been self conscious about it until now. Though Tenya constantly told you that you were beautiful and he didn’t want a twig for a wife. Sometimes he would absentmindedly trace your stretch marks as if they were tattoos, telling you that he loved each and every single of them because they made you you. You stepped away from the mirror, reminding yourself that you were a BEAUTIFUL STRONG BLACK WOMAN and a queen and anyone who said otherwise was stupid as fuck, before returning back to the living room.

“I hope you continue to be a good boy for your mother. She’s an amazing woman, you know. She’s one of the kindest and strongest people I know, you and I both got very lucky and she’s obviously the most beautiful woman, I’ve ever met. I hope your personality is like hers.” You stopped in the hallway, hearing Tenya talk to your son. “Anyways, a lot of people are very excited to meet you, Tenzen, that’s why I put you in your favorite outfit.” He said. You knew that the supposed ‘favorite outfit’ was actually a black baby onesie with a cartoon Ingenium on the front, you had gotten it as a joke...apparently not so much of a joke anymore. You walked into the room from your spot in the hallway as the doorbell rang, Iida handing you your son who made little gurgling and cooing noises as he latched onto one of your fingers with one of his tiny hands.

“Tenya! (y/n)! You had the baby!” Mina rushed in excitedly, Bakugou, Denki, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Tsuyu, and Uraraka walked in afterwards, Jirou being out of town visiting some relatives. After you had transferred to UA in 2nd year, you had been accepted into the Bakusquad while he had been in the Dekusquad.

“Hey Mina.” You smiled widely, happy to see your friends as Tenzen started to grow fussy at the loud noise, standing up to hug one of your best friends as the baby gave her a judgemental stare.

“He’s so cute!” Uraraka, Mina, and Tsuyu cooed as they gathered around, eager to watch the little baby in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You asked as they all nodded quickly. You laughed, passing Tenzen to Mina as everyone sat around the room, talking and laughing.

“He doesn’t even look like you, Dumbass.” Bakugou remarked, holding the little boy, hiding his smile as your son grabbed his finger. “Tch, he’s cute or whatever.” Bakugou admitted before passing him to Kirishima and Denki, a proud smile on both you and Tenya’s faces.

Bakugou hadn’t been wrong. Your son had gotten most of his looks from his father, sharing the same eye color and shape and same smile among other things. While he had gotten his lips and hair type from you. His skin tone was a shade or two lighter than yours and his hair was one shade of blue lighter than his father’s.

“He obviously likes me the most. I’m his favorite uncle, I already know it.” Kirishima beamed watching as the little baby seemed to smile up at him.

“That’s fucking dumb and you know it, Shitty hair. It’s obvious it isn’t any of you.” Bakugou replied, rolling his crimson eyes and eyeing the baby. He didn’t mind holding your son, Hope he isn’t as much of a narc as his dad. Bakugou thought.

“Watch your language in front of my son!” Iida scolded, shooting an icy glare at the hothead who simply tched.

You laughed observing everyone from where you sat, happy that your best friends had met your little boy and he hadn’t peed or thrown up on them...yet.

Tags:

#bnha x poc!reader #katsukisblackteddy #requested #mha iida #iida x black reader #mha x poc!reader #bnha x black!reader #mha x black reader #mha #bnha #fluff #iida as a dad yes pls #iida is basically the dad if the friend group literally fite me if you disagree #don’t be a jerk bc it wouldn’t be very plus ultra of you #bnha x reader

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fantasticallyfoolishidea · 4 years

Text

So, what’s “Her Sweet Kiss” actually about?

There are a lot of posts about “Her Sweet Kiss” going around already. I might be kinda late to the party but hear me out. By now, plenty of people have started interpreting it as Jaskier’s song about his heartbreak over Geralt sending him and you know what? That’s great. Love it. Amazing. Superb.

But you know what’s also hella damn sexy?

Cold, hard, textual evidence. And damn, does the text deliver.

(Actual analysis starts underneath the line break bc this got longer than anticipated.)

edit 12/01/20: The whole thing’s now available in Brazilian Portuguese, courtesy of the extremely kind @sunshine-any.

So, just or a minute, I want you to forget all about Jaskier, and Geralt, and Yennefer, the events of “Rare Species”… Actually, I’d like you to just forget about the entirety of The Witcher until I get to the point. We’ll get back to them later. For now, let’s just pretend that “Her Sweet Kiss” is like any other song you might hear on the radio by an artist you’ve never heard of before.

And now, only now, without any of the show’s baggage, let’s have a look at what’s going on in this son(g) of a bitch, starting out with the first couple of lines:

The fairer sex, they often call it But her love’s as unfair as a crook It steals all my reason Commits every treason Of logic, with naught but a look A storm breaking on the horizon Of longing and heartache and lust

Okay so, you’ve got a narrator figure (whom, for simplicity’s sake, I’ll be using he/him pronouns for) and you’ve got a nameless woman he’s singing about. The song’s about love, but not the happy kind. Love robbing someone of all logic and reason is a staple of love poetry, but in this case the narrator frames it as a betrayal. The woman’s love feels “unfair” to the narrator, and he blames her for his loss of logic and reason. A single glance of hers and the narrator is overcome with a whirlwind of emotions – longing, heartache and lust. However, “a storm breaking on the horizon” suggests a sense of distance coupled with these emotions rather than a sense of immediacy.

She’s always bad news It’s always lose, lose So tell me love, tell me love How is that just?

These lines expand on the idea of unfairness. Her mere presence pains the narrator and “it’s always lose, lose”. In other words, there’s nothing he can do that will lead to a favourable outcome for him. A third party which the narrator addresses as “love” is introduced and he asks them “How is that just?”. It’s quite apparent that he feels wronged. At this point, the “love” he’s addressing could refer to a number of things. For example, he could be addressing the woman (think, “Why do you do this to me, my love?”); he could be addressing the concept of love, yet another staple of love poetry, (think, “Love, why do torment us humans like this?”). I don’t think it’s either of them, for reasons I’ll be getting to in a minute.

But the story is this She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

The refrain is rather straight-forward, so I’ll spare you the repetition. By going out of his way to state “But the story is this” the narrator solidifies his position as a narrator figure, telling a story. You could take this as a suggestion that he’s not quite in the midst of things. He sings about how “She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss” but he’s vague about it. There’s no concrete mention of what she’s destroying. It could be their relationship, the narrator could be the narrator’s heart, let your imagination run wild, for now, because the second stanza clears all of that right up. Kind of.

Her current is pulling you closer And charging the hot humid night The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool Better stay out of sight

Now would you look at that. Our narrator isn’t singing to himself, nor is he simply singing to a nondescript audience. There’s a third party (whom i’ll be using they/them pronouns for. Remember you don’t know anything outside of what’s written in the lyrics) he is addressing, who is captivated by the woman, and the narrator claims they are missing distinct warning signs. The narrator’d rather they stayed away from the woman.

I’m weak my love, and I am wanting

And this is where we start to get the whole picture. The narrator addresses the third person as “my love”. Which bears a lot of significant because it turns everything we’ve established so far on its head. (For one, it implies that when he asks “tell me love / how is that just?” it’s this “love” he’s talking to, not the concept of love, and certainly not the woman). He’s realised that “his love” is falling for the woman. The reason he feels the woman’s love is “unfair as a crook” and why it’s causing him so much pain isn’t because they’re involved in some ill-fated romance; it’s because the one he calls “his love” is the object of the woman’s love and he feels like no matter what he does, he’s bound to lose them one way or another. He’s pushed into the role of an observer while the woman and “his love” were getting entangled, hence his assumption of the role of a narrating figure rather than a figure with agency. Looking at “I’m weak my love, and I am wanting” and the following lines as a whole is kinda tricky because there’s a number of ways you could read that. It could be that the narrator is admitting that he’s tired of fighting the inevitable, hence feeling weak and wanting. However, the narrator could also be admitting to his shortcomings – as in “I know I’m weak and that I’m lacking [as a companion, perhaps? just one example]”.

If this is the path I must trudge I welcome my sentence Give to you my penance Garroter, jury and judge

Essentially, what’s happening is that the narrator is giving up. He’s accepted the way things are (or the way “his love” thinks things should be, as “sentence” suggests that some sort of judgement has been passed or a decision been made) and assumes responsibility for what wrongs he might have done his lover. By uniting the roles of “garroter, jury and judge” in “his love” he’s basically giving them (and them only) free reign over his fate. Cue the refrain.

But the story is this She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

Now for the fun part. Because this isn’t just some random song created in a vacuum. Remember how it is a song sung and composed by Jaskier? And remember the episode it appeared in? There are some minor differences, of course. I won’t start guessing about how this might relate to Jaskier, Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship because then we’d be bridging over into speculative territory and I only wanted to try and figure out what’s going on with the lyrics. Some have pointed out that, in the episode, Jaskier originally debated making the line either “gorgeous” or “lovely garroter, jury and judge” before eventually using neither. Others have pointed out that, in-universe, Marilka also acknowledged that “Geralt” and “Garroter” sound somewhat similar, which could be interpreted as an intentional parallel from the actual writers’ side.

In conclusion, I’m shamelessly stealing someone else’s observation that “Her Sweet Kiss” totally is the “Jolene” of the Witcher-Verse.

Make of that what you will.

edit 06/01/20: Tiny caveat. I was too lazy to get into the whole thing about "real author” vs. “implied author” vs. “narrator” vs. “characters who just so happen to be writers”. Just, keep in mind, Jaskier is a bard who makes a living off his art. Writing songs is his job, and oftentimes a good song is one that makes people emotional. A lot of stuff in ep. 6 can be used to support the interpretation that HSK’s about Jaskier’s actual heartbreak over Geralt and Yennerfer’s relationship. But, I also cited “cold, hard, textual evidence” which, at the end of the day, boils down to “HSK is about a love triangle” and “Jaskier was working on Her Sweet Kiss around the time he and Geralt parted ways”. It’s a conspicuous parallel that may yet affect future episodes but, please, don’t misunderstand me as treating it as a foregone conclusion. What I was trying to say is, “here’s what we can gather from the lyrics themselves” and it can mean as little or as much as you want it to mean for Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship.

#the witcher #her sweet kiss #geraskier #gerlion #geralt x jaskier #fantastically foolish literary analysis

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

The “Momma Sturmvoraus was Literally Satan” AU

As requested by @spazzbot. This AU was initially brainstormed on the GG fanworks server almost a year ago. Specifically, on the first day of 2020.

[ID: a truncated discord message by “Miss Nixy, Gay for RoboLadies” posted 01/01/2020. The message reads “I need to sleep but please for the moment consider:” and ends there.]

So. Let’s get to it.

Satan took a human form because why not see what's going on topside, live like a human, and “Oh shit is this pregnancy? This is pregnancy. Fuck, that's a tiny human. Which is now half demon. Am I supposed to take care it? Wonder if retconing this form into that Valois family was a bad idea. They do have SO much money though, I get to live like a queen. I suppose another child shouldn't hurt, it wasn't that bad. Oh, he's cute, this is actually making sense, why humans do all the sinning. Not counting dear Aaronev's murders, of course, those are just evil, but I did search out the worst of the humans to pair myself to...”

This is literally just "Tarvek and Anevka's mom was low-key Satan on a bored “let's be human for a decade or two to see what happens” jaunt, consequences happen because these kids are LITERALLY half-demon and arguably anti-Christs."

Also it's just Very Funny for Tarvek, ineffectual sexy lamp fashion twunk extraordinaire, to be an antichrist

Jeff thinks he’s pretty. Jeff keeps describing features that don’t entirely make sense. (Jeff’s canon name is Karl Thotep but they spent so long unnamed that the server collectively named them Jeff.)

This is not a crossover with anything, btw. Ambiguously Pop Culture Satan just got bored and went to have babies with a serial killer.

They’re just kids! That are vaguely demonic. So. Moreso than the rest of the Valois.

Sometimes "mom" comes back from the dead and visits Anevka and Tarvek to impart Wisdom and possibly magic lessons The rooms always smell faintly of sulfur after that...

They try to put Anevka in the machine but SHE isn't hurt and the MACHINE just melts

So that's the end of that.

It's very awkward for everyone, but the paperwork isn't too bad. It's very easy to write "incidental fire began during late-fugue experimentation, resulted in fire spreading through six rooms and several casualties, including Prince Aaronev Wilhelm Sturmvoraus."

As per @atagotiak, “I feel like if we’re going in any way dimensional weirdness with thing, Tarvek got so good at exploring bc he could just clip through walls.”

With image provided by @thisarenotarealblog:

Tarvek in Paris: My dead mother keeps showing up in my dreams to tell me I need to seduce my way out of my problems and also she looks like Satan. Tarvek's Voltaire-Appointed Therapist: I still don't know what that means. Just like the last five times. Tarvek: I keep telling her that I can’t seduce Colette, if seduction is that important she should get Anevka to do it.

Like he probably wouldn’t say most of that in front of any Voltaire-approved individual, but still.

Tarvek is still very good at self control but there's a Special Edge to his rants.

(Derailed in the moment to me thinking about Anevka in a sfw-but-concerningly-deadly succubus getup, because... yeah.)

Aaronev dies and goes to hell and his dead wife is just there like "hi! Time to be tortured for eternity!" He wasn't a good husband so. He can't exactly sentimentalize his way out.

“In the sexy way?” “... not for you, no.”

Mostly I just want the BULLSHIT that is "Storm Mom was actually just Satan getting bored and going on vacation as a retconned Valois girl, the kids are half-demons and sometimes it Shows."

To clarify: the Satan bit isn't the retcon. Grandma used to have one daughter. Now there are two. (Seffie and Martellus's mother doesn't remember being an only child, but sometimes...)

Satan retconned a new daughter in, which included a Valid Valois Venusian Vestment, so the blood tests play out.

The subtle signs of wrongness would be fun too. Anevka tends to smile a bit too wide and sharp for a human face. Inexplicable uneasiness, here you can’t point at any specific thing that’s wrong but it’s uncomfortable. Uncanny valley prettiness, almost like the porcelain she became in other timelines. Skin isn’t supposed to be that smooth.

My brain's pre-nap contribution at that point was "Satan's pronouns when not pretending to Human are sin/sinself" which is! Certainly a thing.

Tarvek, at some nebulous future point: I mean, your ancestors were monsters, but my dad was a serial killer and my mom was literally Satan, instead of just figuratively like Lucrezia, so. I mean. I kind of get what you're going through.

Per @firebirdeternal: Tarvek and Anevka growing up with "you're allergic to holy water" and not questioning it until a little later because What.

And then they test it and it's like "yeah, no, there's a rash now. That stung. What the fuck."

It INFURIATES Gil in Paris when Tarvek tells him that's a thing, because there's nothing chemically different about Holy water and regular water. But no, this is somehow happening.

It gets logged in medical journals as a Valois genetic thing because, well, Mom was like that too, right?

One time they both go into a church for an Adventure and Gil is very annoyed to find that Tarvek is like. Faintly smoking. It smells like burnt hair in here.

Gil: What smells like burnt hairgel? Tarvek: [glares]

Gil decides that it must be something particular to the church, like a fungus or something in the stone, contaminating the air and water so it only LOOKS like the holiness is what's setting off reactions.

It is not.

Tarvek once got into an argument with someone and ate a slab of raw, completely uncooked meat as a power move.

SVV seems to work perfectly. Everyone is fine. We get the ‘you fight like ducks’ moment.

And then Tarvek bursts into flames, and everyone panics because no they fixed this what the fuck is he still infected with Hogfarb’s oh my god... and then everything settles down and he's perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him, no longer turning funny colors. Completely unharmed. He's in a nicely tailored suit and looks faintly stunned

"I just met my dead mom, who's apparently Satan. She told me that after I died the first time just now, I should be harder to kill later, especially with fire, because now there's more demon and less mortal and guys I think I'm going crazy." "Is that a martini?" Tarvek looks down. "Apparently."

Tarvek starts just. Randomly setting things on fire by glaring too hard and has to tone it down. Meanwhile, Agatha and Gil are having crises about how he's somehow getting PRETTIER.

Is he faintly glowing? Maybe!

Gil handles it by angrily sniping at Tarvek about how of COURSE he's an evil little rat with a background like that.

Tarvek just wants a nap and to forget this ever happened. Many people are sworn to secrecy. It's very awkward.

Still, SVV did something, for handwave-y reasons, and so they're linked now. Gil and Agatha both getting tiny flashes of the same shenanigans.

They get none of the powers. They just keep getting Weird Shit.

Other characters with divine influence are like "Did you.... did you make a pact with a demon?" "What no that's our boyfriend."

Tho tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if a Heterodyne did sign a contract with a demon at some point in exchange for like. Materials. A hundred souls sacrificed in exchange for some succubus blood. Thanks!

Tarvek and Othar: Falling out of CW as in canon. Tarvek: WHAT THE HELL SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE WINGS HIDE THIS BEFORE I GET BOOTED FROM THE LINE FOR THE THRONE

IDK where Anevka is during all this. I think she might have decided to go sleep her way through the courts of the Ice Tsars. Vacation, y'know?

Othar after he's decided to make Tarvek his new Heroic Apprentice: AH, my poor afflicted young friend, it's noble of you to go against the dark nature of your tragic heritage like this. Tarvek: I hate you. I wish I could hate you to death. But you have a point. I shouldn't let my father's blood limit what I strive for in life. Othar: I... I thought your mother was... Tarvek: I know what I said.

Tarvek: Also you can't tell ANYONE about that, I can't have them thinking I'm not actually in line for the Storm King's throne.

He does admittedly have to like. Explain things to Grandma.

Terabithia is Tarvek’s maternal grandmother so this is supremely awkward. That said...

Grandma fondly remembers her pregnancy cravings; bone marrow and sulfur.

"Yeah so, my mother, your daughter, was... maybe actually Satan? But retconned into your life?" "Tarvek, darling, please. I figured that out half a century ago."

TARVEK ACCIDENTALLY FINDS HIM HIMSELF WEIRDLY INTENSE AT CONTRACTS

I mean that honestly just Tracks about Tarvek anyways? But like moreso.

He just. Writes something up and there's things getting signed or shook on and then the person tries to break the contract and either suddenly catch fire or are deeply unlucky for a set amount of time.

And Tarvek's just standing there like "how in the FUCK did I do that?"

Severity of infernal punishment depends on the severity of the breach of contract.

Tarvek finds out that Anevka's been convincing rich people to sign their souls over to her. It's a fun challenge. She keeps them in jars.

They can still remotely pilot their bodies but like. They can't TELL anyone what happened.

Satan: I'm going to go make babies and now everyone else has to deal with the consequences.

Anevka's living up to that whole "princess of hell" vibe. Tarvek's just like "nope nope nope I want the storm throne, not the hell throne, BYE MOM."

Satan's just feeling sinself down in hell like "awwww look at my babies go, aren't they adorable?"

Tarvek: Anevka, what... first off, how did you figure it out? Anevka: Well, I temporarily died when father put me in the machine, and... I can't say that hell kicked me out because they were afraid I'd take over, but mother DID say she'd rather I play about with human governments instead of Hell's. Tarvek: Okay, cool cool cool. What after you planning to DO with all these souls? Anevka: They make for some lovely reading lamps, don't they?

(Anevka absolutely sets herself the goal of acquiring new titles that rival her old ones, or even surpass them. She just black widows her way through Europa.)

I just want someone (probably Snackleford) to ascend, take one look at Tarvek, and run SCREAMING.

Tarvek still needed to be anchored to Higgs, because Tarvek is Baby.

Gil is eventually in a relationship with an Eternal God Queen and the Literal Son of Satan.

Family dinners can include ALL the in-laws if you duck down to hell! - You borrow Bill from... probably heaven, maybe purgatory. - You have Lu and Aaronev and Satan already there, though the first two... well. Aaronev and Lu get invited to dinner but they have to eat by themselves at the kiddy table and nobody talks to them or acknowledges their presence. After all, this is hell, and what better punishment for Lu than to be completely ignored, and for Aaronev to see Lu at her worst and be reminded that he gave everything for this horrible, horrible person who isn't even pretending to care about him anymore. - Zanta and Klaus get invited via portal. - Anevka saunters in with a blood-soaked dress and a complaint about militant demon-hunters refusing to let her go shopping for a new pair of shoes. - Zeetha tagged along with the OT3. (She can't wait to see this situation explode.)

Oh God, Satan is actually second place as far as good parenting goes.

Well, actually, fourth. Because Adam and Lilith. But second as far as bio parents go. 1. Zanta 2. Satan 3. Klaus 4/5. Lu and Aaronev N/A. Bill

Someone (Anevka) decides to stir the pot and invites Von Pinn, Terabithia, Bang.

Bang is basically Gil’s older sister, right? Right.

This is Zanta meeting Bang for the first time! Zanta is just: "It's so nice to meet my husband's adopted daughter." Klaus freezes. Bang freezes. Gil is the only one who is just. "Yeah." Meanwhile Zeetha is crying with laughter off to the side because both of them deserve this. (Zanta would legit love Bang though.)

Agatha: Tarvek, I think DuPree is-- Tarvek: Hitting on my sister? I know. Agatha: On your mom, actually. Tarvek: NO!

Also I do love the idea of like. Nobody tells Bang they're inviting her. She just wakes up in Hell like. "Ah. Yes. Fair enough."

Satan: Oh no no no my dear, you're here as a guest. Besides as well as you'd fit you're not one of mine, you've got other things waiting for you. Bang: Okay, but I love the decor. And is that Cheesecake?

Bang’s family has their own evil god in the novels, but! Bang DID pick on Tarvek a lot in Paris. Satan cares more than Anevka does. Bang might get the sexy punishment.

I feel like the fact that no permanent damage was done and it taught Tarvek a lot of things means Satan isn't gonna be all that upset about it.

And let's be real, if there's a character in GG who could look the literal Christian devil in the eye and be like "Yeah I tortured your kid, what're you going to do about it?" it's Bang.

Even Satan doesn't know what to do or think about Othar.

He sure is here! As Anevka’s arm candy! Nobody knows what to do except Anevka herself, who just wants to be Smug.

(What's that scene from Phineas and Ferb that's the mad scientist trapping the platypus within the rules of polite dining at a fine restaurant? Like he can't make a scene because that would be rude?) (That. Othar would dearly love to start a fight, but it's a Family Dinner. You're only allowed to fight verbally at those.)

(Othar isn't even fighting Satan, he just wants to argue with Klaus.) (And maybe fanboy in Bill's direction a bit).

#Girl Genius #Phoenix Posts #Anevka Sturmvoraus #Tarvek Sturmvoraus #Aaronev Sturmvoraus #Gilgamesh Wulfenbach #Agatha Heterodyne #Lucrezia Mongfish #Othar Tryggvassen #Bangladesh DuPree #Otharnevka #GG OT3

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bitch-in-a-bag · 3 years

Text

can we talk about how the LGBT movement has changed in the past 15 years?

in the light of the events surrounding Chris chan, and people prioritizing pronouns over the rape of a woman with dementia, I think it displays just how... different things are.

i personally feel like it's been co-opted by the more loud and entitled mtfs/ males/penis-havers/whatever pc term exists for the XY chromosome'd, who go too far and aren't reasonably kept in check. I think terf no longer has meaning anymore because it's just become a word we use to silence anyone that disagrees with a trans woman. immediately you're going to call me a terf, I accept that, but please continue reading. I may suprise you. calling someone who's transgender a terf is kinda messed up anyway, and that's exactly why im writing this.

I also think that everyone else (allies, ftms, etc) have followed suit because they've written this messed up narrative that EvErYoNe iS VaLiD. except for trans penis-havers, bc they're the most oppressed and the most valid, actually, regardless of their experiences.

I never used to believe the above because it was always written off as terf shit, and ignoring it kinda benefitted me, but between seeing ftms getting bashed for refusing to follow new "TME" rules as if they aren't trans too, and seeing outrage around Chris chans pronouns, I think it's time to start saying things that may make people uncomfortable. innocent people are already getting hurt by this, and we need to do better. it's time to get uncomfortable.

I want to remind you that perception is both the relying factor, and also the downfall of newer lgbt theory. if my profile were mtf coded, maybe it currently is, you'd call me a self hating trans and I wouldn't be that big of a deal. terfs would probably target me.

if my profile was ftm coded, I would be absolutely skewered for daring to speak out about these issues, even though they do actually affect ftms disproportionately. terfs would try to convince me that being trans is a plague and a mental illness, and to just ~be a cis woman~!

and if assumed cis, I would 100% be assumed radfem terf, and everything I say would immediately be dismissed because of the genuine damage terfs have done. but terfs would still probably flock to this post and berate me for daring to validate trans people At All, because to them, being transgender is a mental illness akin to an eating disorder, and "giving in" to it is "self harm". clearly I don't believe that, so hopefully you'll give me at least some benefit of the doubt.

so, does my identity matter? i have a feeling you'll say yes, because it gives us a good idea of experiences I do and don't have expertise in, and thus room to talk about. but I refuse to directly identify what I actually am because I want the focus of any resulting conversation to be my message and not my self identification. if you read between the lines and figure it out that's just fine, but I would like to be heard first and foremost.

my profile is thus an attempt at being cis female coded, somewhat out of comfort, and that is likely what I'll be assumed to be due to the beliefs I am expressing, even though there is a substantial risk of getting misgendered and dismissed, no matter what my birth sex may actually be. i will give you a hint about my identity: I am transgender, on HRT and everything, and I have been personally affected by all of this. rest assured, this is well within my lane to speak about, and it does matter if you misgender me.

I want you to really think about that. before you respond, really think about if someone saying words on tumblr, talking about their OWN experiences and their take on recent history that applies to themself, really more worthy of being misgendered and harassed than... someone who said they transitioned so they could date lesbians, and then raped their own mother with dementia.

is that fair or just? or is this just a new way of letting people with penises do whatever they want? I personally think it's the latter. we need to hold people like Chris chan accountable without getting caught up on something as minor **in comparison** as misgendering and self identification. Is it sad and confusing that someone who self IDs as transgender became 1:1 with the most dangerous stereotypes that exist for trans women? Of course it is. But it doesn't mean that self identification is suddenly more important than a literal crime being committed.

I would normally dismiss it as a fluke or outright trolling if the evidence weren't so damning that this is in fact a real event that happened. If I hadn't seen this happen to other people, and if I didn't literally know another mtf person who used their dysphoria as an excuse for date rape on multiple occasions and never got any consequences for it.

It's not a one time thing, it's a developing problem that we need to stop before more people have their lives ruined. I can't even imagine how traumatizing and messed up it is for an FTM person to be date raped, by another transgender person no less. When I, an abuse survivor, told people of this MTFs red flags, people violently silenced me. People who didn't know I was trans called me a terf and transphobic. We, as a community, could've protected someone from getting date raped, and we didn't. Trans women can be awful, horrible fucking people, because they are people. Protecting them at all costs is wrong. Protecting them from transphobia is what we should be doing.

That being said, misgendering is still skeevy, and I haven't done anything like raped a disabled woman who is no longer able to consent, or date raped my own partner. if you give a shit about respecting my identity, please use they/them for me. if not, use visual perception and make assumptions that will most likely be incorrect, skew your own argument, and put me on the same level as a rapist, and arguably a fetishist. And I do need to remind you that calling someone transgender a rapist and a fetishist without evidence is still definitely classic transphobia, to the letter, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that.

as someone who is same sex attracted, I also want to bring this up as well.

in the US in the past 15 years, the movement as a whole pretty much went "YEAH BORN THIS WAY" with Lady Gaga, and then jumped ship to prioritize mostly mtfs at every angle. do mtfs need support? absolutely. but they don't need misguided toxic positivity, and that's what it's turned into.

it's gotten genuinely homophobic to the point where actually homosexual people are constantly being erased and demonized via "genital preferences are a fetish uwu", and vulva havers, especially the trans ones, are constantly being told to shut up about their experiences.

as much as you want to deny bioessentialism, its still very much well and alive with newer trans movement sentiments when we classify ftms as not worthy of speaking about their own issues with terms like "TME". it's also incredibly ignorant towards FTMs who pass, but dress feminine for comfort, and get mistaken for MTF, and treated like garbage because of it. They are not remotely exempt from misogyny, transphobia, or the intersection of the two, and it is not anyone's job to tell them they don't ever experience that when they do. Turning ftms and biological homosexuals into our enemies-- especially when the actual cause is transphobia and harmful gender stereotypes-- does nothing good or healthy for our movement.

Dont be mistaken, though, passing isn't the focus or end all be all here, it's the perception of others that ends up drastically effecting your experiences. There are words like misogyny that imply treatment via birth sex, however this too can be reliant on external perception. If an MTF individual either transitions very young, has an abundance of resources to transition, or just gets lucky and passes well, chances are she will experience a lot more misogyny than people may give credit to. inversely, someone who just started questioning yesterday, but lived as a male their whole life up until then, they genuinely cannot speak about misogyny with that much room because they simply haven't experienced it at an accurate enough angle or for enough time to understand it as a repeated and sociological force.

It works the other way as well, though; someone who's known that they're trans for a long time and haven't had the resources to transition, or do not or cannot pass in the eyes of society; these people suffer pain that we don't neccesarily have a word for yet, imo. It makes dysphoria worse and it makes living seem hopeless. And as a community, we deal with this is in a really messed up way by over-validating them instead of solving the core issue at hand. and people who suffer from this, but also acknowledge they can't claim what they haven't experienced, are left with nowhere to go.

And its important to acknowledge these things because they're integral to the over-encompassing trans experience. Instead of lying to everyone and telling everyone they pass/giving out unconditional positive regard, our focus should be making it so that it **doesn't matter if you pass**. that you're still worth respect and dignity if you're transgender, no matter what passing is or what it means to you, and no matter how you present. But also, if you do something awful, you still need to be held accountable, especially if you use yourself, your body, or your trans status to contribute to other axi of oppression.

Transphobia is a word that encompasses and addresses all of that, regardless of birth sex. "TME" shuts that down in favor of only letting MTF's speak. Which is still very bio-essentialist, and I can't help but feel like we've gone full circle.

Once upon a time you couldn't even get married if your partner had the same genitals as you. in the US, this was less than 7 years ago. and if you care about human rights activism, you know damn well that legal modification is not the end all be all. people who are genuinely homosexual are still oppressed, but the trans movement has started stepping on them to make ground we don't deserve. homosexuals are ok and valid. it's not a genital preference, and the prescence of trans people doesn't make conversion therapy sentiments ok, ever.

we've gone full circle, and it's not right.

#trans rights #homosexuality #human rights #lgbt #lgbt community #trans #tw: rape #transphobia

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loptyrs-moved · 3 years

Note

Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em

Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!

Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!

More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.

Ikemen Revolution

Black Army Side

Corrin Fukui

Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties

Hair: Brick white

Eyes: Blood Red

Height: 4′11

Any other Qualities:

Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature

Curved Opalescent Horns

Shimmery opalescent tail

Wings that also shimmer in the light

retractable?

Pointed ears

Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements

stunted growth

Hoards blankets and comfort items

writes in a journal every day

its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories

she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(

turns into a gIANT DRAGON

ICE ICE BREATH BABY

Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in

Had amnesia at first

She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape

Excellent at sewing and gardening

Sufficient with baking

She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.

Sometimes is called Corri

gentle hearted and innocent

but not as innocent as you’d think

she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one

Ophelia Dae

Age: 24

Hair: Crimson red

Eyes: Jade green

Height: 5′8

Any other Qualities:

A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen

9 of Spades baybeee

While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic

BOMBASTIC AS HELL

BISEXUAL

“Is he bothering you Queen?”

Trans

Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them

she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her

phelia REFUSES to talk about it

she still has nightmares

raised by a single mother

TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame

joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him

she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too

his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place

has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends

AND CORRIN JEEZ

will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause

PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT

Bruh girl

Amira Nasiri

Age: 22

Hair: Chocolate brown

Eyes: Turquoise blue

Height: 5′3

Any other qualities:

My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian

That’s it

She’s just as spunky as Alice

however she responds with being called Alice a little different

she’s adamant about being called Amira

At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself

also an avid baker like alice

pISTACIOS

BAKLAVA

Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her.

She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice

and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS

just ask me why fjgdfgjksd

Red Army Side

Azul Flores

Age: 25

Hair: Raven black

Eyes: Wisteria purple

Height: 5′0

Any Other Qualities:

An old friend of the Queen of Hearts

like she met him when she was 8 years old

fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid

they dated for a WHILE

did NOT work out

HARD CHILDHOOD

Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married

Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter

Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.

Wants to be a Cradle Historian

Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen

UNINTENTIONAL

THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER

Unless....

Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them.

CUT THROAT BITCH

YOUR DEVIL

DEMON

Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her

Bad resting bitch face

Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings

A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u

She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you

Cerise Nam

Age: 19

Hair: Berry Pink

Eyes: Petal Pink

Height: 5′2

Any other qualities:

Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since

They live in Black Territory

She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts

loves making desserts from where her parents are from

She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille

Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen

Loves to cook and bake!

a little naïve, but she’s a realist

youngest of FIVE kids!!

Morning girl

She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods

Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town

love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?

she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...

does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...

She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve

family stuff -- and she understands

RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL

look im cheesy

dont worry it works out

zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult

Non Army Suitor(s)

Lucile Lidell

Age: 20

Hair: Straw blonde

Eyes: Aqua blue

Height: 5'1

Any other qualities:

She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice

Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle

More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal

Rebellious

Noelle and Luci: partners in crime

Short skirts galore

Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her

Wants to be taken seriously

Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage

loves her sister more than anyone else in the world

When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki

Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever

First man to feel safe around

"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"

Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong

Loves to make clothes

'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'

'Welcome home, I missed you.'

Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him

Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan

Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf

Ikemen Sengoku

Ito Tsunade

Age: 26

Hair: Straw Blonde

Eyes: Molten Gold

Height: 5′5

Any Other Qualities:

Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke

got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era

but she got separated from Mai

Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed

HEAD EMPTY

ZERO THOUGHTS

AIRHEAD

her aesthetic when she gets there?

TITS OUT

BIG HONKERS BIG TATA

HOT

her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you

Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones

Specializes in girl metal in modern day

eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces

she has entertained them for now

puts sake away like a monster

when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings

asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol

genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious

also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens

her name was UNINTENTIONAL

Aibana Hinata

Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties

Hair: Black Midnight

Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion

Height: 5'3

Any other qualities:

The concubine of Nobunaga

Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy

Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life

A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD

HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER

Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits

board games

debate as pillow talk

swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough

Bisexual as hell

Gender? Don’t know her

He uses all pronouns

True pronoun: princess

ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI

Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........

Unless.......

Smart, and educated

former geisha

he can read! and write!

LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI

if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else

he would be her best friend

her confidant

genuinely adores her

even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too

puts up a tough exterior

a softie.....

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selfcareparker · 3 years

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okay fghsgdj yes you can say girl ! my pronouns are she/her :) okay but fr pause, i read this like 3 minutes after you posted it (or at least my notif said 3mins lmao) bUT IM IN BED AND I USUALLY HAVE MY COMPUTER OPEN WITH YOUR RESPONSE SO I MAKE SURE I ADDRESS EVERYTHING AND THEN SEND IN THE ASK ON MY PHONE HDGSJSH anyway, time to get my ass up 😔 but wait i find you so funny like honestly, reading that cracked me all the way up. and i feel the “lol” thing so hard!!!! idk why i do it all the time (i’m tryna stop) but i’ll say something with lol at the beginning and lol at the end... it might be a defense mechanism at this point lol (😔) AND (i need to stop with the uppercase too it’s not funny anymore) I DONT KNOW WHY I LAUGHED SO HARD JDHSK WHEN YOU SAID ALSO AGAIN HAHAHAH LIKE UR HAHHAH also my sleep schedule is not pretty either lmao but i’m homeschooled so i never have to get up for anything? hhdhsis idk but i’m glad you slept!! you need sleep!!

also (pls no i cannot) why did i not know what ykwim meant until i reread this?? like it makes so much sense- anyway! i think it’s so cool that you’re excited for university! idk why but i do lol like you’re getting ready for the future (masters degree and all that) & you’re (maybe) going to england anyway so that’s cool haha (hopefully when you go you can see your relatives 🤞🏾)

the fact that you get happy seeing my asks i- 💓💓

you make me wanna go to London & England so bad urghhhh like i’ve only been out of the country once (to Canada for a family reunion) but it sounds so prettyyyyy & i’m so sorry that cov*d is messing everything up and i hope you can see your relatives soon :(

now to address the whole english speaking/writing: I FIND THAT SO WEIRD DUHSKSJ i don’t know how an english speaking person could say that if you don’t write it 100% grammatically correct.... that it’s wrong? when literally, over here at least, WE’RE SO GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT HAHHAAH in both the way we talk and write!! and lol you’re welcome,, AND THE PARAGRAPH DID MAKE SENSE HDHSJSH & your rant is fine because... that is actually a bit ??? bc no one writes with 100% grammar lol

OH MY GOSH (see this uppercase thing is addictive) YOU STUDIED LATIN FOR 6 YEARS??? that’s really cool 🥺 the way that you know/speak 3+ languages i- NOT EVEN 3+ LIKE 6+ (german, english, latin, french, serbian, italian, and everything that comes with latin lmao) even if it’s just a tiny bit like wowee. it is really fascinating!!! i had the opportunity to take latin and i... didnt. i took art instead BUT ONLY CUZ MY FRIENDS WERE IN THAT CLASS AND ART LOOKED FUN IM SORRY

PLEASE WHY DO YOU KNOW EVERYONE?? that sounds so fricking cool tell your mom (mum or mama it’s really fine lol) that she sounds awesome. i think Jamaica would be fun either way!! i mean it looks pretty from pictures? i was a baby so i honestly have no recollection hahaha

LMAOO NOT U SAYING THIS IS LONGER THAN SOME OF MY FICS- PLEASE GIRL IM TELLING YOU I VERBALLY LAUGHED HAHAHAHAHAH but yea you really don’t need to apologize i like reading everything you say 🥺 HDKSHS AND UR FINE WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT ME BEFORE uhhh hmm uhh lemme think i, well, i saw chaos walking yesterday (big tom holland fan over here) and it was alright.. my mom acted a fool at all the jump scares LMAO but it was funny... since i’m talking about movies (this is hella random i know) but i like shark movies HDKJSSJ my favorite is the meg (it’s so good ohmigosh) and the 47 meters down movies aren’t bad either... i have two younger brothers... iiiii AM IN LOVE WITH MUSIC PHEW anddd i’m homeschooled (i think i mentioned that lol) i think that’s a good amount ahahaha AND IM HUNGRY RN JDHSJ

now. please. let me address the edit. i just want you to know that.. when i talk about your fics and i finish them and everything i’m not looking for more? like obviously if you’re writing i’m gonna read it but you don’t need to feel pressured or anything (idk if you do) to put more fics out lol like they’re great and i’m just sending the praise bc i love the ones that are there :’) but i’m so happy you’re working through your writers block!!! yay so so happy for you!!! and PUHLEASE anything you write is fantastic, i feel the exact same way when i write but girl. you’re fine. it’s gonna be great. (idk if this made any sense but... okay)

(and my cousin calls her mom mama so it’s really okay hahah i even call my mom mama sometimes) (and where you got the number “16 sentences” beats me but i still cracked up) (is this me pretending i had tags? maybe) HAHAHAHA OK BYE ❤️❤️ why did this take me so long to send i have no clue, AND WHY AM I OVERTHINKING EVERYTHING I SAID SHAJSHSJ ANYWAY BYE btw i love us too... like iconic // lovely anon 💓

me reading this:

also the dedication you put into sending me stuff— like with the laptop and phone and ahsksk 🥺🥺🥺

i’ll update you when i’ve started uni btw, i’m getting more and more excited every single day haha but i still have 3 weeks until it starts and even then I’ll obviously have to get used to it and everything, but you’re making me even more excited about it sksjshsg

yeah i wanna go to england too dkshsh let’s be sad together over the fact the we can’t travel eksjsh😔😭 but hopefully the wait will make it even better in the end <33 also i talk to loads of relatives over the phone at least once a week so it’s not too bad for me! but i miss their house 😭lmao

and i knowww snshsh so many native english speakers just make so many mistakes— and obviously i get that some things are slang but some things are simply wrong ajsh, the thing is no one has ever told me that my english is bad (i know it’s not bad anyway, but i’m still insecure) or no one has ever pointed out any mistakes, but yeah it’s mostly just insecurity dkshsg but yes thanks for saying what you said (previously as well as in this ask)😌🥰

Okay now for latin— girlll i don’t blame u for choosing art over latin esp. when all of your friends are doing art as well!! I’d choose art over latin as well lol skshsg but in year 6 we had to choose between latin and french, and at the time i didn’t like french? which was dumb of me and now i wanna learn french ekdhs but i don’t regret choosing latin at all bc if i properly learn french one day then i’ll already know understand loads of stuff (or at least some stuff lol) just thanks to latin 😌😌 but still, art>>>latin skskshshgs

I wanna watch chaos walking too!!! But i don’t get when/where/how it’s out lmao, cinemas are still closed here so i’ll either have to wait or find it somewhere online... il*egally 🥰 i don’t have high expectations at all btw but i like daisy and tom and the dog🥺 so i think i’ll enjoy it

GIRL SHARK FILMS SHARK FOLMS SKSJSHSHS okay so there are a few classics i haven’t watched yet, and also a few new ones that i haven’t seen yet BUT I LOVE SHARK FILMS SO MUCH SKSHSGSGSKK the first like proper shark film i ever watched was the shallows (which i like but my brain is still too small to comprehend what happened at the end (i mean i get it but i just can’t imagine it— idek if you’ve seen the film but skshhs)) and after watching it three times it does get a bit boring (but now whenever i see pictures or videos of big waves i’m just waiting for a shark to show up like come ON SKSJSG

^^^that pic/scene really traumatised me sksjsh but i still like the film

I only watched jaws like a few months ago, and i get that it’s a classic and also that it’s old and they just didn’t have the best.. equipment or special effects or whatever but i mean... look at meg and then look at jaws.... no disrespect to jaws at ALL but the meg is so much cooler. (That one scene on the boat where the shark just JUMPS OUT OF THE WATER AND SKSJSHHSUSJHA i get such a shock every time it’s so good (and the dog aww aksjshssli 🥺🥺🥰 and the boy with the ice cream lmao he’s iconic)

47 metres down, wow, i liked that film too. (i’ve only watched the original/first one i think) i mean that is such a fucking nightmare scenario like ALSJDHSNEMSKDJSHSJSKWBALSODUEWBSLDKHDJSNSKSKSHSGEBWKAISGSHEKEKSKLDJDJDHDHSHAGGA (that’s the best way i can express my feelings about that scenario lmao)

oh and i’ve recently been watching more horror films but i don’t know if they’re for me... I like the thrill and whatever but i just end up being scared for my life when i have to go to the bathroom at night or when i’m trying to sleep bc suddenly my mind is flooded with all the scary shit from the films 💀💀💀

and music i mean... you know those people who just don’t listen to music? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM???? i honestly like all genres especially in the last year, i am IN LOVE with Nicki Minaj + Megan andddd Stormzy and i like Harry Styles but i prefer his first solo album (and obviously one direction has bangers i have a throwback 1D session at least once a month), I also love MGK especially his new stuff and otherwise i mostly listen to german artists lmao. So who do you like?💖 (WHY DO I FEEL LIKE YOURE GONNA SAY SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SKAHAGUS IF YOU LISTEN TO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MUSIC DONT JUDGE ME AJSHDJS) (i know you’re not gonna judge me but)

++ @ the thing you said about writing, don’t worry, i don’t feel pressured at all!!! (not by you and not by anybody else.. except myself sometimes lol) and i’m just very happy that you liked my fics 🥰🥰🥰 and if i start telling people that i’m writing a fic then sometimes it puts a bit of (healthy) pressure on me. like yes sometimes it really is writer’s block, but sometimes i really am just lazy ddkshhd so now that i’ve told you i’m writing a fic i might get my ass up quicker than i would if i hadn’t told anyone 😌😌😌

#ok i wrote some if this on the tube/on the bus/at the dentist/in bed so if this seems like it’s all over the place #that’s bc i was literally all over the place skshg #*of #also i love how you used tags skajahsg #lovely anon #<3 #sorry if some of the sentences didn‘t make sense or were too fucking long i wrote half of this half asleep #and i know i dont have to apologise but still like no one should have to read all my page long sentences that arent even proper sentencesskk

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mashiraostail · 4 years

Text

About me/Info

Hi I’m Den! You can call me D or Denny or whatever I don’t care! Here’s a little about me and my writing! 〄〄〄 about me: name: den/d pronouns: Theythem (i’m bisexual) age:22

〄〄〄 info I take requests but I can’t say how soon I’ll reply to them I’m a phD student so I have a lot going on! I’ll write imagines or lists so if you don’t specify which one you want it’ll probably be whatever I’m feeling that day, but if you wanted an imagine and got a list feel free to resend and ask for an imagine I won’t be offended! Your asks can be in the form of a scenario, just a simple question “does (character) like (thing)?” I don’t have a cap on how many characters you can put in one ask, but the more you put the less likely you are to get a longer piece fo writing for each and the longer it’ll take to get written. I’ve seen a lot of anime BNHA, Demon Slayer, Jojos, Mob, JJK, HXH and so on so feel free to request any thing from those. If you’re curious to know if I’ll write a certain show just send it in! If I haven’t seen it or can’t do it’ll I’ll let you know!

I also will write for video games such as BG3, and RDR.

That being said here’s what I wont do ever no exceptions.

1.) yandere/non-con/dub-con/excessive gore/angst- I don’t get it, I really don’t enjoy it so I won’t be able to do it justice. A lot of these characters r comfort characters to me so I don’t really get any enjoyment from things like this. 2.) underage smut I may write fluff or HC for these characters but smut is always no. Even fluff… depending on the ask or how specific I may not write it. I don’t mind age gaps as long as both parties are well into adulthood (mid twenties-) 3.) A/B/O,-I don’t enjoy/ get it, I wouldn’t be able to do it justice ): 4.) teacher/student relationships- Sorry, ik this is some of y’alls bread n butter! But I’m a teachers aid, I’m in uni to get my education degree and become a teacher, I’m a tutor and camp counselor. So the absolute last thing possible for me is my job and sex existing in the same place in my mind, it’s personal for me, I’d never be able to see a student or our relationship in that light (and some of my students are hardly 2 years younger than me lol). I wouldn’t be able to write it well anyhow. Plenty of people write that kind of thing so you can def find it! But if you’re looking for a mentor type of thing that’s parental or platonic the yes!!! I love that sort of thing and I feel that way about my students 100% of the time so I’m probably really good at writing it lol. (this is all bolded bc please this is very important I’m not writing this please don’t ask). Tl;dr I’m an educator and I love my kids.

5.) pregnancy or childbirth:I can’t get pregnant nor would I want to I wouldn’t want to get info wrong or not do it justice!

〄〄〄 other stuff! I do write nsfw! As long as it doesn’t include anything above I’m happy to write it for you! Most of the stuff I write is gender neutral unless you specify otherwise, and if I can’t find a way to make a mention of it fit into the ask I’ll just leave it gender neutral. My asks are always open! I may take some time to reply but don’t be discouraged I just have adhd brain! I get about 1-4 asks a day depending on if I posted that day or not and usually have about 10-15 asks in my inbox so it takes time! I tag trigger warnings! If there’s something you need tagged message me and I’m happy to do it!

#info #about me #bnha x reader #bnha request #imagines #aizawa shouta x reader #all might x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #enji todoroki #bnha #haikyuu x reader #reader inserts #bauldrs gate 3 x reader #jjk x reader #jjba x reader #rdr2 x reader #marvel x reader

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rhydium · 3 years

Note

Info dumbo about the StarFinite story?

aright u asked for it anon GET READY [cracks knuckles] this is gonna be long so obligatory cut in 3, 2........

...1!

so the uh, the au! the story!! w/e yall wanna call it! full disclaimer, i only began working on this whole thing a while ago, but it's totally taken over my fukn brain. like, we're talking big hyperfixation hrs. am i cringe for being this invested in my own content? yes? cool i do not Care >:3€

i should also throw it out there real quick that i am kin w/ infinite, n this is actually one of my two canons (both of which are my own aus lmfao wow). i didn't go into it expecting it to be but sfsfsgdfs here we are ig!! for that reason it's got extra importance to me n this definitely contributes to the euphoria i get from it!! it's a lil odd writing ur own canon,,? but i kinda just go w/ the flow!

the au n, the story that i will start Eventually, revolves around infinite n starline (obvi) n it's honestly just ... the tl;dr is big healing momence n, what's this? uh oh sisters !!! they are falling in love 😳😳😳

uhhhh so infinite is an android, made by eggman. that's like, the most notable canon divergence here! super important context to have. i've got a whole big theory on the possibility of sega originally intending infinite to be an artificial being (which i explored in the works for my Other canon too), stemming from not only the scene in forces wherein infinite comments on sonic's "data", but a line of dialogue from tails in one of the last stages of the game where he Literally Says "so this is where eggman built infinite". that ... i mean. that contrasts w/ episode shadow pretty hard don't it?? would explain why that dlc was so rushed, n the comic too. ANYWAY adsfsfs um that's a seperate ramblepost. yeah!!!

they are also agender n use they/them (primarily) as well as he/him!! so i'll be refering to them w/ those pronouns!

after the war, infinite is taken in by the resistance n, instead of being dismantled, they're basically given a chance to rehabilitate themselves. it's agreed that they won't be reprogrammed, as despite the potential risks, it feels wrong to do so; like a violation of their free will, individuality n thinking. if infinite is to be a good person, it's not gonna be bc other ppl recreated their entire personality, it's gonna be bc it's what they themselves truly want. robot ethics idk man!! u can't tell me that sonic n co wouldn't offer this to infinite if they offered it to metal in IDW,,,, i am Standing By This!!!

it's, yknow, a bit rocky, at first. infinite has to really fight the urge to return to eggman (something they already tried once, before the resistance found them; they were cast out). it's a struggle against what they were built to do, against giving into unhealthy familiarity over facing a, while healthier, unfamiliarity. new faces, a new life, turning their back on their mission n creator, it's like, a lot.

they work for/with the sonic crew, rebuilding the world they tore down as deemed fitting justice, being closely monitored for a bit as a natural precaution. as it becomes apparent infinite truly no longer has any ambition to harm others (they don't have much ambition for anything, really), they're then granted more freedom, n start taking on more important missions!! it at least gives them something to do, keeps them occupied. they have issues with dissociation, unreality, whether they're truly a real person bc, well, android. feeling purposeless, n a lack of worth, especially. a need to prove themselves. heavy stuff. i'll kinda go into that a bit more in a sec. their work grounds them, if only temporarily.

n soooooo... IDW comic stuff happens. metal virus time. starline gets kicked out of the empire.

now, as the comics are ongoing, n as this is already an au, there's gonna be divergence, n i must admit i haven't planned out all that yet. there's a lot i have to consider!! infinite being w the resistance/restoration is a big game changer ... tho i Do believe that they were absent, likely on a far out mission during most of the chaos. eggman doesn't know abt them, nor does starline or anyone else other than the sonic crew; n some civilians that recognise them.

i'm not 100% sure of Exactly when it happens, but i think it's just after bad guys, that infinite is sent to locate n bring in starline. it doesn't prove too difficult. there's a whole, starline realising "oh fuck it's you???", some bickering n, the two don't hit it off right away. they're both kinda like. not mentally stable ddgddgdds,,,

so uh. starline ends up essentially going thru the same sorta shit as infinite. careful watch, rebuilding, all that jazz, making sure he can be trusted. he's like... very very lost, quite like infinite is. the world has kinda calmed down, in the meanwhile.

it's at this point i'm gonna go ahead n drop a bit of a ramble i subjected my friends to a while ago, to articulate the way i see the two, n their dynamic together!! i was considering making this it's own post a while ago!

analysing their characters a bit... let's look at starline. Like. so we have this, in bad guys, which SENT ME tbfh;

i feel like it's the moment that triggers starline onto the path he is rn canonically,,, he's clearly like. rly mad n bitter. the core of this?? he wants his work n his efforts to be acknowledged.

he's big angry. still kind of in denial at this stage. he has himself obsessed w/ the idea of making eggman see him as Worthy, that if he just tries hard enough, that'll happen. he's dependent on eggman's validation, n i mean, it's no surprise; he's followed him a Long Time by the sounds of it.

then in the recent issue, hold the fuck up, bc we got, This;

god. my god it's all comin together now homies. this???? this right here??? it is the CLASSIC "i have to do this to prove i'm strong n powerful n smart n worthy n should be respected please Give Me Acknowledgement" ..... n who else is Like That? can u see where im going w/ this?

i think most ppl are aware of infinite's character being extremely indicative of self worth/esteem issues n the need to prove themself, right?? the extreme adversity, repulsion, perhaps even fear toward the idea of being weak. the compulsion to prove otherwise, to show their strength, to become powerful, to conquer to make a point. their theme exudes this same energy as their behaviour in-game; an aggressive attitude, trying to assert themself, while if u rly listen...? the lyrics are actually really sad in places. it reeks of cover up, although composition wise, a v interesting thing to note is a lot of the more telling lyrics are prominent while some of the affirming ones are in the background. indicative of a desire to have their true feelings be heard but caught in a vicious loop?

okay okay that's yet Another different analysis. AHEM.

not to get deep on main (oh who the hell am i kidding that's the point of this entire thing) but i think starline has issues w/ his worth in a similar way to infinite. they both seem to have this need to Prove something, whether it's to others or themselves, n get caught in a toxic spiral of doing worse n worse things for Some kind of validation or acknowledgement. they'll go to really big lengths chasing that, n both of them ultimately sought validation in the wrong place n wrong way.

this is a big part of my starfinite dynamic,, n so, what happens, as they get closer n open up??? we have them BOTH realising together that they don't have to do fuck all to prove anything to anyone. they don't need to do all this to show they're strong n smart n worth something, not to anyone else OR themselves. they're enough as they are. they bond over that shared feeling that they have to do xyz, to prove themselves, n that desire to just finally be acknowledged n appreciated n help each other thru it. to help each other understand that other ppls approval, or lack thereof, doesn't define them, their strength, intelligence, and worthiness.

i feel like they have an interesting parallel between them in like... the above could be taken as a general analysis, but to go more in depth on this au specifically?? ...

starline followed eggman for presumably a long time n it no doubt left him feeling a heavy and deep regret for all that time wasted n spent on an unhealthy path. infinite kinda teaches him that what matters is what he's doing Now n also reminds him that if none of it happened, starline wouldn't have learnt a lot of the serious skills he has. n while starline still feels bad, he also realises himself that, he likely never would have crossed infinite's path if none of it happened. for that reason, he wouldn't take it back.

infinite has only been recently made, on the other hand. they haven't really existed long, yet, but so far their experiences haven't been very positive n it can be .... discouraging. starline sorta, shows infinite their limited experiences w/ the world are a very tiny fraction of what's out there, n things can absolutely change, yes, including for the better; that's the essence of life, a neverending, constant flow of change.

it's a big tale of moving on n letting go, honestly; made easier as they're doing it together. n as they heal n grow, well... these bitches gay. sfshshdgds like, ig that's putting it p bluntly but!! they start to trust each other, understand each other more. as they get to truly know who the other is, they both start developing The Feelings. they're both pretty oblivious n the reveal is totally unknown so far!! yeah, i know, bummer. i suck. boo. adafsfsds however i can say there will be lots of content in the making!! if that soothes the soul! i've got of ideas i hope to bring to life.

ofc there's still a lot of more specific things i haven't covered here so! if y'all want more juice hmu w/ more focused questions but !! this is the overview n i hope it was a decent read now that gave some uhhh! Cool Insight! yea!!! ✌

#jackal.txt #android infinite au #i need a proper name for this #infinite the jackal #dr starline #starfinite #long post #idw sonic spoilers

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

Text

What Might Have Been - 15

(This one is almost certainly too long for Tumblr, and I highly recommend heading over to AO3 to read it.)

(CW: Brief female-presenting Crowley with she/her pronouns; absolutely heartbreaking ending. This is the story’s midpoint, I figured that was required.)

Here is the fifteenth (and so far longest) chapter for my @goodomenscelebration fic, following the Themes prompts. It tops out over 11,000 words. Please read responsibly.

Through the Years

Eden – 4004 BC

Aziraphale stood on the wall of Eden, watching the Man and Woman walk across the desert. Dark clouds rolled in, carrying something called rain, a storm. He’d worried about it when he’d first heard, but now he had more to worry about.

He’d spotted the lion.

He never should have let them out.

Oh, he’d been ordered to cast the humans out of their Paradise, and to stop them ever returning. Those were the exact words. Take this sword and make sure the humans never even think of coming back.

But perhaps if he’d pleaded, intervened, made their case…

This is for the best. He clutched the flaming sword, the warmth of it taking some of the chill from the rapidly cooling air. It’s for the best.

If he kept repeating it, he would believe it soon.

A noise along the wall pulled him back, a soft sliding that seemed to echo through the air.

He glanced left – just the trees tossing in the wind, as if the storm was taking a deep breath.

And to the right –

The Serpent.

It coiled beside him, just beyond the light of the sword, an enormous black rope, twisted over and across itself, golden eyes staring after the humans as they crossed the desert. The scales of its neck and belly were red as human blood. Its tongue flicked out to taste the air and it reared its head higher than Aziraphale’s.

And it kept rising, body sliding across itself, taking on a form that was more human-shaped. The end result was…nearly correct. Tall, narrow, black flecks of scale here and there. Hair red as blood, in long curling ringlets. Black robes, identical to Aziraphale’s but torn and ragged at the bottom. But the eyes remained unchanged – yellow and angry, squinting in the darkening sunlight, and the wings were black as a sky without stars.

“Well. That was a perfect disaster. I hope your lot is proud of themselves.”

Aziraphale shuffled his feet, fighting the urge to back away. This was his wall, his Eastern Gate. He held the sword before him and tried to look more threatening. “I don’t know what you mean. Nothing that happened here was our doing.”

The demon – obviously a demon, he could see the sigil of the Fallen just above his jaw on the left side of his face – turned to glare at him. “Nothing – so you think that was fair? That it was justified? One piece of fruit and you throw them out to die?”

“They’re not going to die,” Aziraphale said, watching the lion intently. “Not yet. There’s – there’s a Plan, you see.”

“Is there really? Is that great big hungry cat part of it?”

“I don’t…know the details, no one does. It’s ineffable.” The humans hadn’t spotted the lion yet. They were still clutching each other’s hands, scrambling across sand dunes in the growing gloom. “But so long as we trust in the Plan, it will all work out. You’ll see.” When the lion crouched, it seemed to vanish into the sand. “It’s for the best.”

Clutching the hilt of his sword, Aziraphale wondered how fast a lion was. The ones in the Garden simply lounged around, sunning themselves beside lambs. The ones in the world were supposed to be dangerous.

The Woman lost her balance and started sliding down the dune. The Man caught her, pulling her upright. He knelt down to check her for injuries. The lion crouched lower, unmoving.

“In case you’re wondering,” the demon started again, “its not taking a nap. That’s how they hunt.” He leaned a little closer. “It’s not pretty. You probably could have done them a favor and cut them down with the sword yourself.” Firelight glinted off golden eyes. “Be a lot quicker.”

“This is your fault,” Aziraphale snapped.

“My fault? I’m not the one who threw them into the desert for eating a snack!”

“That tree was forbidden! They knew that perfectly well. If you hadn’t told them to try and apple, they wouldn’t be in this mess, would they?”

The demon flared his wings. “Maybe your lot should have thought of that before you stuck a great big forbidden tree in the middle of Paradise! If you didn’t want the humans trying it, all you had to do was put it outside the blessed wall!”

“If they followed the rules that wouldn’t be necessary!” They would learn. Now that they knew the price of disobedience, they would learn.

A crack of thunder overhead. Aziraphale managed not to flinch – he’d read the pamphlets, he knew what it was, but hadn’t expected that sort of volume, the way it echoed across the land.

The demon sidled closer, despite the flames between them, until his black wing almost brushed Aziraphale’s white one. Down below, the humans clung to each other.

“You want to know something?” The demon’s voice was soft now, strangely silken. “I didn’t know anything about the apple when I came up. They just told me to go make trouble. I tried everything. Ripping up flowers, breaking beaver dams. Tried to get the animals to fight each other. Even broke open the wall to let everything escape.”

“I know. I saw your handiwork.” Aziraphale told him coldly. “The only things that left through it were the humans, after I sent them away. Even your actions served the Plan in the end.” He’d need to patch up that hole before the other angels noticed.

The demon made a noise of disgust. “That’s not my point – the point is, nothing I did made any difference.”

“That’s obviously because you aren’t very good at your job. I, on the other hand, was doing flawlessly until you came along.”

“Flawlessly?” The demon spat the word. “You let me right in. Not a very effective Guard if you ask me.”

“Guardian, not Guard,” Aziraphale corrected. “My orders were to…to keep them safe…” The humans had started walking again, right towards the waiting claws of the lion. Aziraphale pressed his left hand to his mouth, waiting.

“And now you’re just going to let this happen? How is that keeping them safe?”

“Orders change,” Aziraphale said around his hand. “Now I’m to – to make sure they don’t return.”

“Well, then.” The demon watched the lion shift, preparing to pounce. “Suppose this will take care of that.”

A bright line of lightning split the sky, and the demon ducked closer, practically under Aziraphale’s wing.

“I beg your pardon!” He stepped back, flipping the wing away, raising the sword to point at the demon’s chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The demon’s lips twisted. “Nothing, I suppose. Going back to Hell to report in.” He stepped away, arms wide. “Good luck with the next batch of humans.” A dark light surrounded him as he shifted back to Serpent form. “By the way, I’m probably going to get a commendation for this. Good job corrupting the humans, Crawly. Maybe even a promotion. What’s your side going to give you?”

And then he was gone, slithering over the side of the wall, vanishing into the earth below.

In the distance, the lion leapt, claws extended –

Mesopotamia – 3004 BC

A crack of thunder, echoing across the floodplain. A pair of enormous long-legged birds trotted past Crawly, heading for the boat. More animals behind them, horses, mice, rabbits…

The rumors were true, it seemed.

He moved through the crowd, asking questions. Who built this boat? Why here? Why so many animals? He got the name of the ship builders, not much else.

Already the air pressure had changed. Rain was coming, as it never did in this part of the world.

For a thousand years, Crawly had lived among the humans, delighted by their unlikely survival, their clever inventions, their endless, endless ideas. He doubted Heaven was quite so pleased, and it looked like the reckoning had finally arrived.

Up ahead, a pale shape leaned against the fence, watching. An angel, no, the angel, if he wasn’t mistaken. The smug bastard from the wall.

Wasn’t this a day for surprises?

Crawly sauntered up behind him, slipping into a bit of space to the angel’s right. No sword this time, at least. “Well. Fancy seeing you here, angel.”

He immediately stiffened, sliding a little further away along the fence. “Why have you come here, fiend? More mischief?” The angel sniffed. “I’m rather too busy to deal with your nonsense today.”

Crawly rolled his eyes. “Busy standing by and watching, as usual.” The angel’s fists tightened around the fence posts. Must have struck a nerve with that one. “So what’s the story? Word is, God’s angry again. What did the humans do this time? Bake a forbidden pie? Wear the wrong colored robes in a temple?”

“That is highly classified,” the angel said, watching two camels walking past. They seemed particularly unimpressed with the arrangements. “Suffice to say, it’s much worse than a little misunderstanding.”

“Classified. Do the humans even now why they’re being punished?” The angel’s silence was very telling. “Do you?”

“I don’t ask those sorts of questions,” he said, tilting his head back to glare up his nose at Crawly. “But we have made the humans fully aware of what we expect from them. As you know perfectly well, since you’ve been tempting them into all manner of sinful, depraved acts, in every city in the world.”

Crawly narrowed his eyes. “And how am I meant to be doing that? There’s tens of thousands of people in the floodplain alone. Millions around the world. Am I supposed to visit each one every day? Micromanage their lives? That’s your lot’s job, I don’t have time for that sort of one-on-one nonsense.”

“If not you, some other demon.”

“Really not how it works.” But the angel clearly had no interest in listening. He walked away, pushing through the crowd. Crawly would have let him, but the next animals to pass were a pair of lions, trotting along on lead ropes like a couple of well-trained dogs.

Something wasn’t right.

“What’s the punishment this time?” Crawly wove through the crowd, trying to keep up. “Yeah, lots of rain, I can see that. What’s the endgame? Destroy their homes? Their crops?” No response. “Why all the animals on a boat, angel? What are you planning?”

With a sigh, the angel turned back. “We’re…” he glanced at the boat again. “I am authorized to tell you that Heaven has chosen this village as an example. To remind the rest of the humans who keeps them safe.” He rubbed his hands together, probably in anticipation. “Something the others can’t ignore.”

“Something…” it clicked in Crawly’s head. “You’re going to kill them? Drown them all? For what? A few broken rules?”

“More than a few!” He dusted a hand across the fence. “They need to learn to obey. It has all been carefully planned. The site. The number who will die. The chosen survivors – everything has been selected for maximum effect. This…sacrifice is necessary.” He nodded his head. “It’s for the best.”

The sound of laughter, genuinely happy giggles, seeming so out of place in this dismal scene. Crawly looked at a corner of the fence, where three children played a game of chase, weaving around the posts and the legs of the adults. “Angel. Tell me the kids are going on the boat.”

“The loss of innocent lives is an essential part of our message.” Thunder roared overhead. “Once they know we are serious, they’ll fall in line.”

“You can’t believe that.” Crawly grabbed the angel’s shoulders, spinning him around. He needed to understand. “Nothing you do here is going to change anything! These people – those kids – will die for no reason.”

“Unhand me.” The angel grabbed his arm, twisted, and in a flash Crawly was sprawled on the ground, seeing stars flash against the clouds above. “You’ll see. This is for the best.”

He walked away as the first drops of rain began to fall.

Golgotha – AD 33

Another desert. Another disaster.

This one only effected a single person, directly at least, but wasn’t that enough?

Aziraphale didn’t want to see anyone harmed. If they just obeyed, no one would need to be harmed.

He needed to find a way to get through to them.

A flash of red, somewhere in the crowd. Aziraphale knew what he would see, even before his eyes turned from the gruesome scene, tracking the dark-gowned figure.

He looked different, but the angry slit-pupil eyes glared across the crowd, same as ever.

What cause did he have to blame Aziraphale? If he had never interfered – if the humans had never left the Garden – no part of this would ever have happened.

Crawly’s eyes met his. The demon shook his head and turned away.

Aziraphale faced again the scene before him, the Cross rising against the darkened sky, the man gasping in pain.

It was for the best. It was for the best.

Rome – Eight years later

Crowley stepped into the dark popina,[1] glad for a moment’s relief from the sun. It was still hot inside, the air heavy with the smell of humans pressed close together, but at least it wasn’t so blasted bright.

“What’ll you have?” the bartender glared at him, taking in the unusual gown, the circular brooch, the silver laurel crown in his red hair, the black bits of glass to hide his eyes.

Then she turned back to watch some men playing at dice in the corner, voices rowdy. Crowley wasn’t even close to the strangest thing she’d seen.

“Whatever’s drinkable. Leave the jug.” It would take several amphorae of alcohol to erase the last few days from his mind. And he still hadn’t managed to find a single depravity the Emperor hadn’t already indulged of his own volition, and worse than Crowley could have imagined.

Most days, he liked humans. This was not one of those days.

“Er, pardon me,” came a voice from his left, just as he took his first sip. “It’s…it’s Crawly, isn’t it?”

At the sound of the name, his stomach clenched, already-bitter wine turning sour in his mouth. He swallowed and turned to the angel, brilliant white toga hanging from the golden brooch, who smiled at him insincerely.

“Crowley, actually,” he snapped, returning to his drink.

“Oh! Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. I’ve been getting it wrong all this time.”

Getting it wrong? He’d never heard the angel say his name, not once. He didn’t even know how he had learned it, but those celestial bastards had their ways. Maybe if Crowley refused to respond, he’d take the hint?

“Oh, you must forgive me, I really meant no offense –”

“Relax,” Crowley grunted, really not able to handle that look of distress, even just out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t get it wrong, I changed it.”

“Changed it?” The angel slid onto the stool next to him. “You can do that? They just let you?”

“Not much they can do to stop me.” Except refuse to call him by his chosen name, which was what most demons did. But he would wear them down in time.

To his left, the angel was pouring himself a cup of wine from Crowley’s jug. “Oh, no, please. Help yourself.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He took a sip, clearly rolling it around on his tongue, then swallowed with difficulty. “Interesting flavor,” he coughed. “Very, er, robust.”

“It’s cheap.” Hell still had trouble with the concept of money. Some jobs he had more than he could ever use, others he had to make do.

“Well, it certainly is…let’s say, bracing.” The angel tapped his cup, glancing nervously at Crowley. “So…what have you been up to? Still a demon?”

Crowley slammed up cup down. “Still…what sort of question is that?” He jabbed a finger towards the sigil mark on the left side of his face. “Did this vanish when I wasn’t looking? Suddenly develop a holy glow?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You suppose not?” Crowley hadn’t had a good day and this nasty…prying…cold-hearted angel was exactly what he didn’t need. “So, what, did you think I might have been fired? Not keeping up my quota of souls for the Dark Lords? I mean, Hell doesn’t exactly sack us for that. There is a sack involved,” he conceded, draining his cup and filling it again. “And hammers. Red hot pokers. Really, it’s a great bonding experience for everyone. But then they let you out again and it’s back to work.”

“I…didn’t realize…it was a joke…”

“Oh, a joke. Is Ascending something angels joke about?” The word twisted painfully off his tongue. Demons didn’t talk about it openly, the possibility of returning to Heaven. The longing to feel complete again. What they would give to feel their Grace flow through them just one more time. But there were always whispers, in the darkest corners of Hell.

Crowley didn’t know how he felt about it. And it was too painful to even talk about right now. “How about Falling?” he demanded, changing tactics. “Is that funny, too? There goes another, hope the sulfur pits are still hot. They are, by the way, we keep them at just about four hundred fifty degrees. Haven’t had any newcomers in a while, but we’re always read for the next one.”

The angel looked paler than ever.

“How about you?” Crowley pressed on, because if he didn’t, something would snap inside. “Still an angel?”

He hadn’t meant anything by it, really. He’d hoped the angel would be offended, leave him alone, maybe think twice about snide comments in the future.

What he hadn’t expected was a cry of pain, the clay cup tumbling from shaking fingers to shatter on the floor. The angel pressed his fingers to his lips.

“Are you alright?”

The angel nodded his head, eyes squeezed shut.

Not my business, Crowley thought, glaring at his mug. Demons have our problems. Angels have theirs. None of my concern.

Except.

Except the angel had come over to talk to him. Rudely, managing to push all the buttons Crowley didn’t know he had, but still, he’d come over. And he hadn’t left, even when Crowley was rude back.

“Alright. Out with it.”

“I beg your pardon?” The angel waved a hand over the ceramic pieces, hurriedly reassembling them into some sort of abstract sculpture.

“Angel. You saw your enemy in a popina. You didn’t slip away, you didn’t call for back up, you certainly didn’t draw your sword. You sat down and started talking. Could it be you’ve got something you want to say?” He waved a hand over the messy pile of clay, turning it back into a cup. “Something you can’t risk getting back to your side?”

The guilty look told Crowley everything he needed to know. He refilled both mugs. “Whatever it is, I’m not going to tell anyone. Got no one to tell who would even care. So. Like I said.” He handed one cup to the angel. “Out with it.”

He turned the cup in plump hands, wearing an expression that might be a smile, but looked more like a frown. “How…how do you do it?”

“Do what? You’ll have to be a lot more specific.”

“How do you get the humans to do what you want?”

For the first time in four thousand years, Crowley very nearly blinked. “Wow. Straight to the trade secrets, huh?”

“I mean it,” the angel said, a note of pleading suddenly in his voice. “We’ve tried everything. We gave them rules, clearly outlining what they were supposed to do. It got…complicated. Then we tried to simplify. It got more complicated. We’ve punished them. Rewarded them. Sent them personal messengers and laws engraved in stone. Then you come along, and they forget everything. Turn to sin like that.”

“I seem to recall you once said I’m not good at my job,” Crowley said with a triumphant smile, taking a sip of the alleged wine.

“I’ll admit I was wrong,” the angel said, so sincerely, Crowley spat out his wine in surprise. The angel tapped the jug with his fingers, waved them over the cups, then tasted his own again. “That’s better. And I did think so at that time, it’s true. But for all you said you tried everything else first, it only took you two hours in the garden to ruin all our plans. Not the Ineffable Plan, of course,” he corrected quickly. “But everything we thought we knew changed in an instant. How?”

He was actually listening, Crowley thought, a little stunned. No one really listened to him, except to tell him to stop overthinking everything, stop asking questions. He lifted his cup again, found the liquid inside had been transformed into something light, sweet, with just a hint of bite at the back of the throat. It occurred to him that the angel hadn’t needed to change any wine except what was in his own cup. “How do you think I do it?”

“Well,” the angel fidgeted excitedly, a shy but genuine smile spreading across his face. “I have theories. At first, I assumed there was some sort of trigger for their obedience, and you worked it out first. Something like the Trumpets of Heaven that allowed you to put the idea directly into their minds.”

“Trumpets don’t work like that,” Crowley pointed out, going for another drink. “Otherwise, we never would have been able to rebel. If you don’t like what you’re ordered to do, they aren’t hard to ignore.”

The angel frowned distastefully. “I don’t know what liking an order has to do with obedience. But in any case, I realized that wasn’t it. Humans aren’t designed for angelic obedience; they need to be convinced to do what’s right. So, you’ve worked out how to do it. Some rhetorical strategy or reward guaranteed to get them to do as you ask. Something that’s more effective than any threat or promise my side can make.”

“Very well-reasoned,” Crowley said, finishing his cup.

The angel sat up proudly. “Why, thank you.”

“Completely wrong, though.” Crowley refilled his mug and considered the angel carefully. He could leave it at that. There were things he’d never told another demon, never told anyone. He shouldn’t consider telling an enemy.

But he wanted to say it. Wanted to know how the angel would react.

“I’ve told you before,” he finally said. “I don’t do anything at all.”

“Really, Crowley,” the angel scoffed. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“it’s true.” He shifted on his stool, leaning closer. “Back in the Garden, you want to know how I found out about the apples?” The angel nodded. “I slithered up, and the Woman was already talking to the Man about them. They’d been picking apples and gathering them for days, asking each other if it would really grant knowledge equal to God and the angels. All I had to say was yeah, probably.”

“So you did talk them into it!”

“I mean, barely?” Crowley shrugged, sitting up straight again. “If I didn’t say anything, they’d have tried for themselves in a day or two.”

“But surely,” the angel moved his stool closer. “Surely since then you’ve developed some sort of process.”

“Eh, generally Hell has some particular thing they want me to get a human to do. I’ve tried logic, threats, tricking them. I’ve even outright asked. Sometimes it works, sometimes they do something worse than Hell could come up with on our own, and sometimes, despite everything I do, they still do the right thing.”

“How often?”

Crowley tilted his head. “About half the time. I throw everything I can at them, and it works about half the time. Probably when they were going to do it anyway.” He jabbed a finger into the table. “That’s why I say: nothing we do matters. It’s all down to them, every time.”

“What do you mean, we?” the angel demanded, jumping to his feet. “How many of you are there, running around this world, trying to undermine my side?”

“Oh, you know that’s not what I mean.” Crowley leaned back in his stool with a smirk. “There are only two agents here on Earth, you and me. I know I’ve never convinced any human to do anything they weren’t already willing to do, and I’ll bet you came over here because you thought the same. We’re just here so Heaven and Hell can keep pretending they know what they’re doing. Act like they have some control over the situation, but we know it’s all a lie.”

I beg your pardon!” The angel’s voice broke through the background roar of the crowd, causing several humans to glance their way. Soft hands tugged at the bright white toga, pulling it straight. “I am most certainly not – not – no! My job has a purpose! I was put on this world to bring peace and order and safety and – and – and my very presence inspires goodness!”

Crowley finished his cup. “You know that isn’t true, or you’d never have spoken to me in the first place.” He waved to the bartender, picking up the jug, then turned to leave in a swirl of black fabric. “Face it, angel, you’re as useless as I am.”

“I am nothing like you!” The angel’s voice was high and strained in the sudden silence. “I am not useless!”

Crowley spun back, ready to tear the angel apart, but instead found himself meeting a pair of blue-grey eyes filled with pain and fear.

After all, useless demons were punished and reassigned. Angels with no purpose were discarded, or worse.

Throwing us head back to look at the ceiling, Crowley ground his teeth in thought. “Look. Angel.” He took a few steps back and lowered his voice. The humans were beginning to drift back to their conversations, at least. “I’m not saying you’re useless. Just the job they gave you.”

“Pardon me for not seeing the distinction.”

“There is one. I swear. You just…have to accept you can’t control humans. Keep an eye on them, try to nudge them when you can, claim credit when they do the stuff you’re meant to inspire and just…ignore the rest.”

“How?” His voice was pleading now. “I was made to protect them, to guide them! How can I just ignore what they do?”

“Gotta figure that out for yourself.” Crowley waggled the jug of wine in his hand. “I will say, enjoying the pleasures of the world helps. A lot.”

“Pleasures?” The angel’s lip curled distastefully.

“Yeah, you know. Food. Drink. Sleep. Music. And if you find an attractive human, well, that opens a whole other range of options.”

“Angels don’t…do those sorts of things.”

“Don’t they? You certainly know your wines.”

The angel adjusted the drape of his toga, chewing on his lip. “I…I have thought…there’s a new restaurant I’ve been meaning to try. Oysters. They’re supposed to be quite remarkable.”

“Sounds like the place to start.” Crowley turned to the door with a wave. “Not really my scene, though. I’m going to find a place to finish this jug and maybe pick up another –”

“I have a place.”

Funny how the world kept spinning after that. The crowd didn’t even pause in their conversation.

Crowley looked back over his shoulder.

“I’ve been in Rome for some weeks.” The angel moved towards him, one cautious step at a time. “I have a set of rooms. Really…quite nice. Several more amphorae of wine. If you’re interested.” He shuffled his feet, standing an arm’s length away. “You can tell me more about these distractions. I…don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now. And I think…I might have more to say.”

Crowley crossed the last step between them. “You know, angel. I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Aziraphale. Angel of the Eastern Gate. Principality of Earth. Guardian of Humanity.”

Later that night

“Siz months,” Crowley declaimed, waving his cup of wine, pacing around the atrium. He paused again to study a potted plant. He could see yellowed leaf spots developing, even though it was clearly receiving more than enough sun. He jabbed a finger at it threateningly. “Siz months workin’ with the general on this whole thingy.”

“Which thingy?” Aziraphale sat on the far side of the impluvium, his bare feet dangling into the rainwater pool. He watched the ripples his toes made with a smile.

They were on the third amphora now, possibly the fourth. Crowley felt very relaxed, very open, unable to keep from sharing the thousands of ideas that ran through his head every day. And Aziraphale continued to listen. It was astounding.

“The thingy. Battle thingy. Plan. Take your boats and hit the other boats with them. Pwwffffffft,” Crowley waved his hands, making what he thought was the sound of two ships colliding at sea. Wine splashed across the floor.

“Not very safe,” Aziraphale decided after some thought.

“S’abattle. Not s’posed to be safe. Anyway. Was a bad plan. Cuz my side wanted them to lose.”

“Why did it take sis moths?” Aziraphale twisted his lips. “Sizzle mons…I don’ want to brag, but I can make a bad plan in under a nhour.”

“Angel. It is. So hard. To lose a battle on purpose.” He slumped against a column dramatically. “Harder’n trying to win. Too many things can go right. Gotta think of errything.” His cup was empty now. How did that happen? He wandered over to the amphora and refilled it, starting a fresh one for Aziraphale. “So. So. Six months. Day comes, all the boats all lined up…an’ the chicken won’ eat!”

Aziraphale nodded his head, then frowned. “Why’z the chicken on a boat?”

“Think she was a priest. An’ the general says they won’ fight until the chicken eats.” Holding the two cups, Crowley carefully circled around the pool towards the angel, who sat with his brow furrowed in thought.

“Chicken can’ be a priest,” he finally declared. “Can’ say prayers, see? No lips.”

“Zirpale.” Crowley frowned, scraped his tongue across his teeth and tried again. “Aziraphale. There’s a horse. In the Senate. I have no idea waz going on in this empire anymore.”

“Oh, I had dinner with Senator Incitatus,” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Lovely home, lots of marble. Didn’t much care for the oats.” He leaned forward, whispering a choice bit of gossip. “His wife Penelope was very rude, you know.”[2]

“Right.” Crowley handed Aziraphale the cup of wine, trying to process this information. “Where was I?’

“Chicken?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t eat. We waited all day and she jus’…jus’ sat there. And the other boats were –” he waved an arm towards the pool. “Thereish.”

“Maybe it was seasick.” Aziraphale took a drink of wine, then looked up, smiling brightly. “Should have used a duck! Ducks like water.”

“Eh. Mh. Fair point. No’ my idea, makin’ the chicken a priest.” He shrugged widely. “Anyway. By the time the chicken ate, winds’d changed, an’ our ships wouldn’ move. Other ones just – whoop – right up and set them all on fire.”[3]

“So you lost.”

“Yeah. But. Not how I was s’posed to lose.” He settled down, next to Aziraphale but carefully avoided the water. Angel might bless it by accident. Or on purpose. “They tell us…they say…erry choice, there’s a righ’ way an’ a wrong way, yeah? But ‘s’not true. There’s a thousan’ ways. Some right, some wrong, some jus’ dumb.”

“Chicken onna boat.”

“Tha’s m’point.” He leaned forward eagerly. “So if the humans do the wrong thing, it’s still wrong, even if it’s not what Hell wants, right? What matters is it’s wrong, even if it’s the wrong wrong, right?”

Aziraphale blinked. “What?”

“Does that answer your question?”

For another moment, Aziraphale stared at the black lenses Crowley wore, then let his eyes drift across the atrium. “My dear fellow, I’ve quite forgotten what I asked!”

“HA! Means I win.” Crowley drained his cup.

But the angel was frowning over something. “You said Hell…punishes you…if you don’ get enough souls.”

Crowley shrugged. “’S’Hell.” He traced a finger across the tiles of the floor mosaic, studying the colored stones.

“Are they…do they get angry? When y’do th’…the…the wrong-wrong-thing? Or tempt humans the wrong way?”

“Does it matter?” He didn’t want to think about that.

Aziraphale’s hand landed on the back of his, a gentle bit of pressure. “My side is – is very angry at you. All the time. Because you tempt th’humans to do all sortsof things. No one knows wha’ to expect. Drives Gabriel mad, you know.”

Crowley felt a smile coming across his face, like nothing he’d felt in a long time. His face grew hot, and he tugged his hand away.

“How about you,” Crowley said quickly. “You ever do a wrong right thing? Somethin’ that was right, but Heaven didn’t like it?”

“No!” Aziraphale sat up very straight, eyes wide. “M’n’angel. I only do right-right.”

“Aagh.” Crowley threw back his head. “C’mon. In four thousand years, there’s gotta be something you did. I did plenny Hell didn’ like.”

“No – no – no –” there was panic in his eyes now. “Crowley. If I diza – disoj – if I didn’ do what they said… I don’t know! I can’t!”

“Annnnngeeeeelllll,” Crowley drew out the word. “Not one li’l miracle on the side? No good deeds? You can tell me. Who’s gonna know?” He leaned closer, recklessly. “I’ll start. One time. In the north. This chieftain’s son was s’posed to kill this other chieftian’s son. Start a whole war. So I…” Crowley grinned. “Convenced ‘em to run off an’ get married. Their dads still got mad, war happened, bu’ they both lived off in th’ mountains.”

“Oh, Crowley. That’s sweet.”

“No’s’not. ‘S’horrible. There was so much fightin. So much. Your turn.”

“Well…one time…” His fingers tapped on the side of a cup. “One scribe was supposed to copy a poem about the king, but I didn’ like it, so I had him copy a different poem instead.”

Crowley blew a raspberry. “Weak! I was s’posed to help Hannibal fight Rome, but I wanted a nap, so I just told him,” he waved his hands, “elephants!”

“I may have accidentally invented the fruit cake?”

“No one likes fruit cake,” Crowley insisted, flapping a hand. “Don’t count. Ummmmm – Oh! I went for a swim ‘round the sea once, and now…’M a sea monster in six different miffs. I eat a princess in one!”

“Did you really?”

“Naaaah, just hissssed at her a little.”

“Oooh!” Aziraphale clapped his hands, smiling. “Stories! In Athens, I had a lovely talk with Aristo – Aristophan – with a play writer. And He wrote a charming story called The Clouds.”

“Didn’ that play get a man killed?”[4] Azirpahale’s face fell, but Crowley waved it off. “Aaaaah, these are nothin’. What’ve you done that y’r bosses would be mad about? Proper mad?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips and shook his head.

“S’gotta be something, Angel.”

“Well. P’haps.”

“A-ha!”

His fingers tightened around the cup, until cracks began to form. “I. At the Ark. I saved some of the humans who were s’posed to die.”

“How?” Crowley slid closer along the tiled floor.

“I – I – I took a family wi’ children. Moved them to th’other side of the world. Told them – told them they’d been spared, if the spread the story. Then…I did it again an’ again an’ again.” He looked up, eyes filled with tears. “That was good, right? The – the point wasn’t to punish, it was to send a message. Well, I helped spread the message. That’s good.”

“Ziraphale…” Crowley mumbled. He glanced at the pool, unable to meet those eyes. The water around the angel’s feet was wine-red, miracling out of his body as he spoke. “Why – why are you…”

“If I’m going to Fall, I want to do it sober.”

“No ya don’t.” If drinking had been an option during the War, Crowley certainly would have. “Why would you –”

“Not just the Ark,” Aziraphale rushed on. “I did the same at Sodom and Gomorrah. I stayed at Babel for months teaching the humans to speak each other’s languages again. In Egypt, the last plague, I – I – I took hundreds of firstborn sons and I – I hid them in safe places. It took weeks before anyone realized what had happened, we’d already left by then, so the point had been made, hadn’t it?”

Crowley pulled off his glasses, still staring at the angel’s panicked face.

“Don’t you understand?” Aziraphale dropped his cup, letting it shatter on the tile. “I’m the reason we can’t control the humans, I’m too soft with them, I don’t have the – the fortitude for this job. I undermine everything Heaven does, always have, and I hoped if I could find another way to control them…but it doesn’t exist, and they’ll find out, and I’ll Fall—”

“When you say…always have…”

“Eden.” Aziraphale pulled his feet out of the pool, turning to face Crowley entirely. “After you left. The lion attacked the humans. So. So I flew down. And I gave them my sword.”

“You what?” Crowley blinked.

“I’d been told to make sure they never returned, and I thought, well, if they’re able to feed themselves and stay warm and fight off the animals, they’ll have no need to come back, will they? I chased off the lion and I said here you are, flaming sword, everything you need in one. Take this, keep walking, never come back and…and take care of each other.” His hands came up, waving vaguely. “Was that the wrong right thing? Or just a wrong thing? I’ve wondered –”

Crowley was never sure why he did it.

The alcohol left his body, flowing into the pool to join Azirpahale’s. He grabbed the angel’s toga and pulled him close until their lips slammed together.

He waited for the smiting, for daring to defile a holy being, even if in an awkward, inexperienced way.

Instead, Aziraphale’s hand slid around his waist, the other cradled the back of his head, and warm lips parted below his and oh.

This was what the poets talked about.

Wessex – AD 538

The trumpets blared, the gates ground open, and the knights of King Arthur rode into Camelot, a clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Even had Crowley not been looking out the window, the cheers would have alerted her – it seemed every peasant and craftsman was out in the street, celebrating the return of their lords.

Her eyes searched for one in particular, the one she’d heard rumors of, but it was hard to distinguish one knight among all the shining plate and colorful banners. No, there. The one in a white fur cape, with a white horse. The one who carried no weapon. The smile spread across her face faster than she could bite it back.

“Come, ladies,” the queen said, rising from her throne. Her deep green dress was covered in lace and pearls, highlighting a flawless figure. Most humans didn’t see past that, to the sharp intelligence in her eyes. “The quest may be over, but our work has just begun. Keep the conversation at dinner light, no politics until at least the third course and if the Elaines would kindly spare us from their drama for a single evening…?” She raised an eyebrow at a knot of ladies, all different ages and appearances, who giggled behind their hands.

“My queen,” Crowley said, curtseying politely. “If I may be so bold as to ask for an introduction?”

“Of course!” Guinevere smiled, taking Crowley’s arm in hers. “You’ve hardly had a chance to meet any knights at all since your arrival. At least the questing season is almost over.” She lowered her voice as they walked. “The winters in Camelot may be cold and drafty, but at least we can convince the men to sit down and attend the duties of government. When there aren’t other distractions.” She eyed the Elaines again. “Your full introduction will wait until tomorrow, of course, when the king is ready to receive you. But I think we can at least find you a partner for dinner conversation.”

“I would be most grateful,” Crowley said demurely. “But is there any knight to be found who is as good a match for me as your own king is for you?”

The queen pressed her lips together, then smiled again. “Will you pretend you haven’t learned every bit of gossip about the men? Come. Tell me who you have your eye on, as if I couldn’t guess already.”

There was no mistaking the angel. Out of his armor, he worse a simple tunic of pale blue and white with silver embroidery that contrasted the bright, showy colors of the rest. He stood a little taller than most of the other knights, and she could see how his face beamed, radiant, as if he had stolen the stars and hidden them in his eyes.

Crowley berated herself for such foolish thoughts. It came from spending all her time surrounded by the ladies-in-waiting, but oh, it had been too long.

“…and though we found no sign of the Grail, your highness, I still feel the quest was a great success,” he was saying to some well-dressed human that was probably the king. “The people of Elmet were much heartened by your words and the relief you brought them after the famine.”

“Sir Aziraphale,” the queen chided. “That sounds an awful lot like politics, and you know my rules. The king needs time to recover from his journey.”

Crowley may have noticed Arthur reaching for his wife’s hand, but what expression either wore – or what looks Guinevere gave to the other knights – she missed entirely, because now Aziraphale smiled at her.

“It would appear you’ve gained another lady-in-waiting in my absence,” Aziraphale said, taking Crowley’s hand and bowing over it.

“Yes. Allow me to introduce the Lady Antonia of Crowley.”

“Sir Aziraphale,” Crowley curtseyed deeply. “I have heard much of your deeds.”

“And I believe I know of your family.”

“If it will not distract you from your duties,” she said, with a coquettish glance, “perhaps we can discuss old ties after dinner?”

“I look forward to the conversation.”

It wasn’t much of a conversation, though mouths were heavily involved.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Aziraphale managed, pulling his lips away long enough for a few words. “We agreed it’s too dangerous.”

“Maybe I wanted some danger.” Crowley shoved him against the wall of the castle, just out of sight of the hall where the Knights of Camelot feasted, and pulled kiss after kiss from her angel’s lips while his hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer. “Besides. I’m here on orders. My side thinks the island is getting too peaceful.”

“Too peaceful?” Aziraphale spun her away from the wall, backing her into the cushioned seat of a window. She fell onto the red fabric, and he bent over her, pressing kisses on her face as if to memorize the shape of her nose, her brow, her cheeks. “The kings of this island do nothing but fight!” He managed in between kisses, as Crowley twisted her head, trying to catch his mouth. “It’s all the queen can do to keep them from declaring war on each other every time they sit down to dinner.”

“Mmh.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale into her lap, kissing her way down his jaw and neck, as far as the lacing on the tunic would allow. “Probably why I was sent to ruin their marriage.”

“I don’t want to tell you how to do your job,” Aziraphale began, then paused to do something to Crowley’s neck that left her positively gasping. “But if you’re supposed to be seducing the king, you’re going about it all wrong.”

“Perhaps I need more practice.” She pressed her forehead to Aziraphale’s lightly rubbing their noses together. “I’m certain one of the chambers on this hall has a bed.”

“Nh,” Aziraphale groaned with a smile. “They’re going to expect me back soon. I really did just mean to find out why you’re here.”

Crowley let him stand, and he pulled her to her feet. They stood in the hall, arms wrapped around each other, her chin resting on his head. “I’m supposed to make Guinevere fall for one of the knights. We’re fairly certain without her there to balance the king, Camelot will fall apart in a matter of weeks.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Well. The lust department had several suggestions. But naturally I arrive and she’s already in love with Lancelot.”

“Can’t blame her. Everyone’s in love with Lancelot.”

“Does that include you?”

“Don’t be jealous.” He brushed her lips lightly, and Crowley pulled him closer, into something much deeper and rougher. When they finally parted, breathless, they settled onto the window seat, side-by-side.

“Listen, you need to let me have this one,” Aziraphale said, twining their fingers together. “Not just because I was here first – though I was – but I really do think this is important. The island becomes more unified every year. People are happy under Arthur. And I think I’ve found the secret to the humans.”

“Not this again…” Crowley objected.

But he lifted her hand, brushing a kiss on every finger, every knuckle. “They don’t listen to us because we’re outsiders. We agree on this yes? But they trust a human leader, a charismatic one. We just find the right leader – like Arthur – and guide him on the right path, and he will ensure the rest follow.” His free hand slid up to cup Crowley’s face. “I have a whole report for Head Office almost complete. I’m certain it will go over well. I just need a few more months.”

“Oh, Angel.” She turned her head, kissing his palm. “I told you before. Nothing we do here matters. They’re already in love, she’s already tempted, and every day Arthur spends building his kingdom drives them further apart. It’s only a matter of time.” She leaned against his hand, searching his earnest eyes. “Let’s just enjoy this one. You and me, together, like…like humans…” It was strangely difficult to say.

“We can,” he said, hardly seeming to notice the pain she was in. “Once my report is ready, we can do – whatever game you like.” He pressed a kiss to the sigil on the side of her face. “There’s a lovely glade in the woods…I’d like to take you there next summer.”

Summer was far away. Already the queen received letters from her husband’s best knight, and the messengers carried notes back. But Guinevere knew what was at stake. “I think I can buy you a little time,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale smiled so brilliantly, her heart almost stopped beating. After nearly five thousand years, he still had hope, still believed he could make a difference. Sometimes, he even had Crowley believing again, thinking she belonged, a part of the world, someone who moved through it, helped to shape it, not just an outsider hammering around the edges, trying to make any impression.

It would hurt, later, when Aziraphale was proven wrong yet again. It would hurt them both. But now, in this moment, they had hope. And she loved him for it.

Crowley stood with a gasp.

“Crowley? My dear, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I – nothing.” She stepped away, finding another window to gaze out across the rolling fields of Camelot.

Aziraphale stepped up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her back into the curve of his stomach, enveloping her in his warmth. She tried not to let him see her expression.

She loved Aziraphale.

That was wrong. That wasn’t the Arrangement they had.

They coordinated jobs to avoid pointless conflict. They came up with clever lies for Head Office when half their assignments inevitably failed. They alerted each other to deeds the other could take credit for.

And, when they could, they distracted each other in the most pleasant ways possible.

They were not supposed to be in love.

London – 1601

“To be or not to be, that is the question…”

“Literature!” Aziraphale hissed happily, clutching at Crowley’s arm. He had that smile again, the one that always said he’d figured it out “Why didn’t I think of it before? It’s so obvious!”

Crowley looked fixedly at the stage, where the actor struggled to deliver his lines to an empty theater. Burbage was good, Shakespeare’s lines were clever (not that Crowley would admit either out loud), but still no one came to see the play.

“Pretty sure you’ve tried doing plays before. Remember what happened to Socrates?”

“It’s not the same!” He smiled at the stage, eating another grape. Crowley watched that smile through dark glasses, already bracing himself for what would come later. “For one thing, that was a complete accident. I had no idea comedy could be so cruel. For another, I wasn’t trying to manipulate anything, it just happened. But it worked!”

“Worked? It got a man executed!” Crowley circled behind Aziraphale, leaning close to whisper. “Besides, your side has had a stranglehold on literature for centuries. What gets copied, what doesn’t, thousands of sermons and treatises and bad poems.” He clenched his fist. “They’re just – so – boring!”

Up on stage, Burbage hesitated, shooting a glare towards Shakespeare that clearly said I told you so.

“Not you!” Aziraphale waved to the stage. “We were talking about a different play! This one is very not-boring!”

“It’s a little boring,” Crowley started, but Aziraphale scowled at him. “Fine. Yes. You’re very clever. Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Good rhythm. Bravo.”

Shakespeare waved to his actor, and Burbage stepped to the center of the stage again. “To be, or not to be…”

“Oh, now he’s starting over,” Crowley groaned.

“Look, I have a plan,” Aziraphale tried again. “Popular literature. Comedies, love poems, things people enjoy hearing. We find the writers who are already very good, then just encourage a few new ideas into their stories. Use them as examples. Get people really talking about philosophy and morality.”

Already Crowley was shaking his head. “No, Angel. Besides, what’s so bloody good about this play? He just stands around talking about doing things, and never does anything!”

“Proof of concept. Besides, I happen to like it. Look, I’ll do some of the funny ones you like, too. All I do is get him to slip in a few particularly memorable lines, ensure the play’s success, and once all of London is talking about it, I can bring it to Gabriel and – and –”

“And what? Really?” Crowley circled again, to stand in front of Aziraphale, blocking the stage entirely. “You think humans don’t know how morality is supposed to work? Your lot have been feeding them rules for millennia. Nothing you can tell them now is new. It won’t change anything. Look.” He took Aziraphale’s hand in both of his, running his thumbs across the soft knuckles, feeling the way the angel’s fingers curled with a protectiveness Crowley didn’t deserve. Even after sixteen centuries, it could still make him shiver. “We’ve both got jobs in Edinburgh coming up. Forget all this. Let’s go north together, make a holiday of it. The giant monster can make an appearance at that lake you like, and then we’ll have it all to ourselves for a few days…”

Aziraphale’s eyes half-closed, and for a second, he leaned towards Crowley. Then he stepped away, quickly eating another grape. “Not where people can see us. We need to be more careful.”

“No one cares.” Crowley circled behind him, resting a hand on his lower back, feeling Aziraphale’s own shivers. “What do you say? You, me, a little journey north?”

“Crowley…I really think I have something here.” The demon groaned and stepped away, knowing what was about to come. “Look, if you could just – just cover my blessings for me while I get everything sorted out, I’m sure I can have a report ready in no time.”

“Angel, not again.”

But Aziraphale was looking at him with that mix of hope and pleading in his eyes, and it made Crowley’s heart melt all over again. He couldn’t say no. He could never, ever say no.

“Fine. Just promise me, when it all falls apart, this time you’ll do something for yourself. Take a rest. Enjoy life.”

“If you like, but it doesn’t matter.” Aziraphale smiled, like the sun emerging at the end of a storm. “This time it will work. You’ll see.”

Paris – 1793

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, Angel. Only humans do that.”

“Crowley!” The angel leapt to his feet, turning with a smile that made Crowley nearly discorporate. Then he frowned. “Good lord. Is that what you wear to rescue me?”

“Sorry, left all my dashing hero outfits back in London.” He lurched upright and made to leave. “Maybe I should go get one. You mind waiting here a couple of days?”

“Don’t you – Crowley!” He looked back to find Aziraphale sinking back onto his seat. “Oh, you were right. It all fell apart.”

“I know, Angel. I read Paradise Lost. Pretty sure that’s not what you had in mind.” He settled onto the bench and took Aziraphale’s manacled hand in his. “What happened? Last time we spoke, you said it was all going well.”

“Well, I lied. It’s been a disaster from beginning to end.” He stared at the dripping walls of his cell. “I don’t understand. Look at – look at the Courtly Love poetry. The tales of chivalry. The same ideals over and over and people love them, follow them, emulate them.”

“Been a lot written about what your side has to say, too.”

“I know. But people don’t – they don’t love it, not the same way.” He lowered his voice. “Did you read those – those Puritanical treatises? It was like being lectured by Gabriel through a book, as unlikely as that sounds. And half the things they talked about are completely irrelevant! The humans always wind up more concerned with their own ideas and forget about the really important things.”

“So, why did you think it would be any different this time?”

“I don’t know! New contexts, new media. People were excited about literature as they hadn’t been for so long. It could be a fresh start for our message. Only when I pitched the idea to Gabriel, all he heard was the word new and next thing I know we’re organizing new translations of the same texts.”

“That explains the King James Bible.” Crowley had taken some joy in convincing Hell that the latest translation counted as a point for their side.

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand. “Then I tried suggesting some ideas to writers, personally, in dreams or at bars or all sorts of ways. But they all just took them in the wrong way entirely.”

“That explains Paradise Lost.” He’d enjoyed parts of that one.

“Yes. And I finally succeeded in getting some intellectuals to discuss morality, philosophy, science, all those big questions. And in the end, they pulled all our ideas to pieces and rebuilt them into something entirely different.”

“That explains the Enlightenment.” Crowley couldn’t help smiling at that. He loved when humans questioned things.

“And all that led to this.” Aziraphale waved manacled arms around the filthy cell. “A revolution and a hundred executions a day. All because I just…wanted people to talk about right and wrong.” He sighed. “So yes. You were right. Nothing we do makes any difference.”

But you tried, Crowley wanted to say. It’s been so long since I could bring myself to try. And you accomplished so much, even if it’s not what you wanted. You were brilliant. I love you.

He didn’t say that, though. There were some things a demon could never say.

But he had other words instead.

“Angel. What did I make you promise, two hundred years ago, when all this started?”

“That I would make Much Ado as popular as Hamlet. I really did try –”

“No, not that.” He stood up and pulled on the chain that bound the angel. “You promised if it all fell apart –” he tugged again, and Aziraphale stumbled to his feet – “you’d take a break from all this –” one more pull brought Aziraphale against him – “And do something for yourself.”

“Well. I suppose I did.” A little smile appeared on the angel’s face, as his hands started tugging on Crowley’s lapels.

“And it would be horrible – shameful – an unbelievable scandal if an angel were to go back on his word.” Crowley looped his hands around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling himself into that softness.

“Hmmmm,” Aziraphale rested his cheek against Crowley’s shoulder. “I thought we might get crepes.”

“It’s a start.” Crowley pressed a line of kisses across his jaw and down his neck, stopped too soon by the enormous cravat.

“And…see where the night goes?”

Crowley ran his fingers up Aziraphale’s spine, feeling those shivers once again. “I have some thoughts on that, too,” he promised, purring in his angel’s ear. “But after that?”

Aziraphale hesitated. “More crepes in the morning?”

“If you like,” Crowley laughed, “but not what I had in mind. Come on. You always have so many ideas for Heaven. Big elaborate plans. You must have one for yourself.”

“No I – I – it would be quite impossible.” He pushed away just a little.

“Yeah, probably, but that doesn’t usually stop you.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. He wanted to see that glow again, the look of hope. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

“I…there was one idea…I thought I might…open a bookshop.”

It took an effort not to frown at that. “A bookshop?”

“Yes! You know. Big leather-bound ones. Novels. Poetry. Even old journals. I could collect them, and repair them…”

“Sell them to customers?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s face fell a little. “I suppose…in the right circumstances. But I would also know all the latest books, and I could talk about the ideas in them. Maybe even get a cat.” He sighed. “I know it sounds foolish, but…I imagine it, in the heart of London, closing up early to go to the theater, or spend the night in with my collection and a bottle of wine…”

Yes, there it was. That smile. The one that made Crowley fall in love again every time. “And what are you going to call this business venture?”

“A.Z. Fell & Co. Just need to decide what the letters stand for.”

Crowley nodded. “And the Co?”

“Just a formality really.” His manacled hands found Crowley’s lapels again, smoothing them. “Unless, you know, someone was interested in being my partner?”

Crowley’s jaw hung open, trying to find the words, but it was too much. His heart raced until he thought it would burst. “You. You want me…?”

“Well. Gabriel would just make a mess of things.”

“But. Dangerous.”

“We’d have to be careful, but, well, we’re both very clever. Surely we could –”

The rest was cut off by Crowley’s lips, and by the sound of chains tumbling to the floor.

The next morning, Crowley sat on the right side of the bed, watching his angel dream.

He lay back across, to kiss Aziraphale’s cheek, then his bare shoulder. A smile grew across the sleeping face. “Cowey?” he mumbled.

“Shhh. Stay here. I’ve got some things to take care of first. I’ll see you in London. In our bookshop.”

Aziraphale waited for over two hundred years.

August 2008

The door to Aziraphale’s bookshop burst open with the sort of force usually associated with riots, attempted robberies, and visits from school groups. He turned from the customer he had been slightly-less-than-gently dissuading from purchasing a copy of Oliver Twist. It was one of the cheap paperbacks he kept around for persistent customers, but policy is policy.

A quick glance to the door to see who the troublemaker was.

A longer glance to take in the tall, dark being with the long red hair and the black glasses hiding any hint of his expression.

He pulled the book from the customer’s hand. “Everyone, please leave. We are closed.”

“But the sign said—”

“Everyone. Leave. We are closed.”

The three human customers shuffled their way out the door, past the impatient demon. Aziraphale took a deep breath before looking him in the eye – or at least the black lenses. “That includes you,” he said, voice as calm as he could make it.

“I – listen, we need to talk—”

“Oh.” Aziraphale took a step closer, watching the way Crowley twisted and squirmed. His clothing was ridiculous, trousers so tight he could hardly walk. He’d managed to cram a few fingers into the pockets, but they didn’t seem to be deep enough. “Now you want to talk?”

“Yeah, look, I’m sorry, Angel, I really am, but this is –”

“You said you would see me in London.”

“It’s…yeah, we’re in London—”

“Two hundred and fifteen years, Crowley!” Even though they’d been designed to absorb sound, Aziraphale’s shout echoed off the walls of the shop. “I have been waiting to hear from you for two centuries!”

“I…I had…”

“Oh, you had things to take care of?” Aziraphale stepped closer, jabbing a finger at him. “You could have contacted me!”

“It wasn’t safe!”

“Wasn’t safe? Since when do you worry about it being safe? You just waltz right in and introduce your newest alias, every time.”

“Angel—”

“Don’t you Angel me!” He shut his eyes and turned away. This isn’t how he’d wanted this to go. Don’t argue. It isn’t worth arguing. Just say your bit and send him away. “Crowley. In the last two hundred years, I’ve taken a…a lot of time to think about our…Arrangement. Things had gone rather too far.” He nodded, turning back. “Perhaps this separation was a blessing. In the future we should avoid—”

“Aziraphale, listen to me!” For the first time in so long, he felt those hands on his arms again, clutching him through the fabric. “Never mind any of that, this is important!”

It was an effort to catch his breath. “Let go of me, now.”

Crowley stepped back, holding up his hands, but the urgency hadn’t left his voice. “Hell has kickstarted Armageddon. It’s the end of the world.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. So it’s true. Plenty of humans had calculated the final date, and all of them had been wrong. He had hoped that Heaven’s information would also be incorrect. “Gabriel told me as much the other day. I’m meant to find out what I can and report back.” He cleared his throat, looking around at his shop, at his prized first editions, his music collection, the little row of silver snuff boxes by the window.

Six thousand years, and this was all he really had to show for it.

“I don’t suppose you know how long we have left?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“About eleven years. The Antichrist has been delivered. I don’t know who they sent. I don’t exactly have a lot of fans downstairs just now but – but we still have time. We can track him down—”

“And do what? As you’re so fond of reminding me, nothing we do matters. Nothing I try makes any difference.” Aziraphale walked over to the desk where he kept his favorite first editions. Perhaps he could petition to have one or two added to the Library of Heaven, if they met the subject matter approval. Persuasion, at least, had served him well for many years.

“But we have to try.” Crowley danced around the edge of his vision. “You always say that. We have to try.”

“No, we don’t. There’s really no point. We can either try to avoid the inevitable, or we can prepare ourselves for it.” He wandered over to his music collection. Eleven years was probably enough time to learn to like one or two of Elgar’s works. Not enough time for The Sound of Music.

“Angel, please.” Crowley’s hand found that spot at the small of his back, the one that always made him shiver with delight. Oh, it really had been too long. “Don’t give up. Not yet. I can’t do this alone.”

“Just tell me this.” Aziraphale stared directly ahead, not looking at anything at all. “How long have you been in London? Months? Years? Decades?”

“Angel—”

“I saw the shape of the M25. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize a sigil?”

The hand pulled away, leaving him cold and alone. It was all the answer Aziraphale needed. “You should go now.”

He waited until the door clicked shut before sinking into his chair.

Then he searched his desk for a fresh piece of paper, and began to write his next report for Gabriel.

July 2019

Crowley pressed his mobile to his ear, leaning against the side of his Bentley. He heard a ring – another ring – a third –

“I’m sorry to say we are quite definitely closed. My regular hours are suspended, due to—”

“It’s me.”

A pause.

“How did you get this number?”

“What – Aziraphale, it’s the bookshop number. I got it the same way your customers do, unearthing a three-decade-old phone directory.”

“I thought I’d destroyed all those.”

“Will you listen?” Crowley shifted the mobile to his other ear. “I don’t have much time. I know where the Antichrist is. I know a bit more than that, too – what Hell is planning, where it’s all going to happen.”

A heavy sigh over the line. “If you’re going to say Megiddo, I already know that.”

His heart rose. “Aziraphale – you have been doing research! I knew you wouldn’t just give up. Don’t worry, I’ve got more than that – lots more.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I really – really – shouldn’t have this information, alright? But I think I’ve got a plan. I don’t know if it’ll save the world forever, but…it should buy us some time.”

Silence on the line.

“Aziraphale. I’m…I’m sorry. I really am. All I wanted was for you to be safe and…look…I can tell you more when we meet. I promise, I’m going to make it all up to you, in whatever time we have left.” More silence. “Do you need me to say it? It hurts, but I can—”

“No. Don’t.” Another pause, but this time with the sound of rustling paper in the background. “Just…tell me where to meet you. And when. I need at least a day to make preparations.”

Crowley had to put the mobile down and take a few deep breaths, pulling off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Right. Yes. Tomorrow is fine.” He turned a map towards him. “I can’t pick you up, not safe, but I can give you directions. Do you have some way of getting out here?”

The next day, Crowley paced beside his Bentley, waiting for the angel to show up. He was late.

Not late, actually. Technically, he still had several minutes to go. Aziraphale usually preferred to be early, but there could be many reasons he wasn’t able to find the spot. The plan was to meet here and travel the rest of the way together. He’d fill Aziraphale in on the details as they drove.

He thought he’d been clever, choosing the meeting spot, but the only identifying feature on this side road was a tree in the middle of a field. It was entirely possible the angel was ten miles away, waiting next to a completely different tree in an unrelated field and –

With an almost-unheard change of air pressure, Aziraphale was standing to his left.

“Angel,” he breathed out in relief. “You shouldn’t have done that. Anyone could have sensed your arrival. I’ve made a lot of demons very angry.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said, not quite meeting his eyes. That was fine. They would have time. The important thing was, Aziraphale had come. They were together again.

“Get in the car. It’s about ten minutes from here. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Yes. You really should tell us everything, as soon as possible.”

Another change in air pressure.

And Crowley turned to find Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon and a dozen other angels standing behind him.

“Well done, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, with a smile that made Crowley’s skin crawl. “Get the chains on him, I want to start interrogation as soon as possible.”

He spun back to Aziraphale, who held a golden chain in his hand. “You – Aziraphale, no.” Those hands reached for him, and Crowley stumbled back, barely able to stand, barely able to breathe around the awful, broken feeling in his gut. “You lied to me!”

“No, I didn’t – you just assumed – Crowley, please. This is for the best.”

“No!” In a flash of light, he was a serpent again, as big as he could manifest, slashing venom-filled fangs at the angels. It wouldn’t destroy them but it would burn, and he could probably get two before they took him down. He struck towards Gabriel, lashed his tail around towards Michael and her troops, and twisted away to the field, hoping for more room to maneuver.

He never made it that far.

Aziraphale leapt onto his back, pinning his face against the ground, as he twisted furiously, trying to escape. The metal chain slipped around his neck like a noose, pulled tight –

And suddenly, Crowley was human-shaped again, lying in the street, with Aziraphale sitting on his back, knees pinning his shoulders, hand pressing his face down into the pavement.

“Angel – please – don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

“Hush, dear. Don’t struggle. This is for the best. It’s for the best.”

[1] Popina – a bar in ancient Rome, usually serving the lower classes, with reputations for being rough

[2] Incitatus – Emperor Caligula’s prize racehorse, which he allegedly made a Senator, and attempted to appoint Consul. His ornate marble stable probably was real; his wife, the mare Penelope, is from Robert Graves’ I, Claudius

[3] This is not an actual battle, but combines details from the Battle of Drepana (249 BC, when Publius Claudius Pulcher threw the sacred chickens in the sea for refusing to eat) and the Battle of Actium (31 BC, when Marc Antony held his position while the winds shifted, until it was quite impossible to slip by Octavian’s forces). Romans were very fond of various forms of fortune telling; one tradition was that if the sacred chickens ate a certain way before battle, it was a good omen, but if they refused to eat, it was ill.

[4] Aristophanes’ The Clouds – a comedy about philosophy, ideas, religion and education. One character is a parody of Socrates, and allegedly the play was used as evidence in his trial that he “corrupted the youth,” leading to his execution

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hqsloane · 4 years

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hello !! it’s ally back at it again with another muse !! for those of you who don’t know, i also play violet ( the taylor hill fc ) !! but this is a very new muse that i’m v excited about, so if you want to plot just like this post & i’ll slide into your dms <3

chicago’s very own sloane windsor has been spotted on madison avenue driving a rolls-royce dawn , welcome ! your resemblance to charlotte d'alessio is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twentieth birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re insatiable , but being gregarious might help you . i think being a libra explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be designer sunglasses disguising bloodshot eyes , vintage abba records , a room full of first place trophies. ( i just got out of rehab for a drug addiction ) & ( cisfemale + she/her ) + ( ally , 21 , she/her )

full name: sloane ( warrior ) madeleine ( of french origin woman meaning ‘ woman from magdala or high tower ’ ) windsor ( english last name ). nickname(s): s, princess. age: twenty. birthday: 3 october 1999. zodiac: libra. gender: cisfemale. pronouns: she / her / hers. sexual orientation: bisexual. languages spoken: english & french. hometown: buckhead, georgia. occupation: vlogger. parents: darcy sinclair ( rachel mcadams ) & spencer windsor ( jon hamm ). siblings: two older brothers. pet(s): forrest ( golden retriever ) & jenny ( border collie ). religion: southern baptist. drink / drugs / sex: yes / yes / yes. height: 5′5. right/left handed: left handed. tattoos: a rose on her hip ( x ), this on the back of her right elbow, & a quote on her ribs ( x ). positive traits: gregarious, discerning, tender, impartial, dignified, courageous, independent, empathetic, & audacious. negative traits: covetous, controlling, aloof, rebellious, daunting, compulsive, tactless, vain, cunning, obstinate, & snarky. hobbies: photography, traveling, procrastination, meddling, partying, late night instagram live streams, dancing on tables well past last call, visiting art museums, & video editing. habits: tying her hair up in a loose ponytail when she’s stressed, fleeing the country on a whim, chewing the insides of her cheek in order to hold back what she truly wants to say, chewing the ends of brightly colored pens, binge drinking, & doodling. labels: the catalyst ( the independent one ), the doctrinaire ( the perfectionist ), & the aesthete ( the muse ). aesthetics: cat eye sunglasses shielding emerald hues, mascara tear stained cheeks, shattered trophies, polaroids, disposable film, late night notifications, hiding any ounce of emotion behind a camera, paint splattered jeans, parisian architecture, sunday brunch, missed phone calls, & the longing for her mother’s approval. style inspo: nicola peltz, bella hadid, kendall jenner, rosie huntington whiteley, meghan markle, & alexa chung. here are just a few examples of her wardrobe !! ( x x x x x ) muse inspo: monica geller ( friends ), caroline forbes ( the vampire diaries ), serena van der woodsen ( gossip girl ), lydia martin ( teen wolf ), peyton sawyer ( one tree hill ), nancy wheeler ( stranger things ), & emily fitch ( skins ). net worth: 30 million.

background ;;

before spencer & darcy got married in 1989, they knew all they wanted was one child: a girl. yet, their life did not go according to plan. after they welcomed their first child into the world ( a boy ), they figured that the next one would be a girl. they of course loved their son more than anything in this world, but they knew they wanted a daughter to complete their growing family. however, when darcy discovered the sex of their second child was a boy, she knew she wouldn’t stop having children until they welcomed their perfect girl into this world.

soon after the birth of their second son, they discovered they were expecting again. this time, with the daughter they had always wanted !! sloane was born on october 3rd, 1999 in a wealthy suburb of atlanta, georgia. & from the day she was born, an enormous pressure was put on her.

what you need to know about the windsor family ( other than their strong southern roots ) is that they’re extremely rich. they are high key based off the carrington’s from dynasty bc i’m #trash. buttttt what you need to know is that they own a multibillion dollar international oil company called windsor industries ( formerly known as windsor petroleum group ).

if you aren’t familiar with oil conglomerates, all you need to know is that windsor industries are responsible for literal power. they are one of the leading producers for oil & gas in the world which is why they have offices all over the country. & let me tell you, they don’t conduct business ethically !! they are notorious for fracking & their continuous use of fossil fuels. when people talk about climate change, they constantly bring up windsor industries & how much they have contributed to global warming. & to make matters worse, spencer & his eldest son put millions of dollars into the pockets of politicians to get them to support their cause & vote against climate change regulation. so if we all burn up one day, you can blame them !!

the windsor family has lived in georgia for generations ( big yikes ) & that’s where they started the family business in 1942. spencer’s grandfather came from a long line of prominent politicians in state politics which is why his family was ready to disown him when he decided to go into business over politics. but when his business took off & he was making more money than everyone else in his family by the age of twenty-two, they quickly shut up & started supporting him.

since then, windsor industries has been passed down from generation to generation. spencer was handed the business on his thirtieth birthday ( twenty years ago ) & has been dominating ever since. once his eldest son turned eighteen, he quickly got him involved & he is expected to take over the family business one day.

as successful as his business is, spencer is known as the bad guy in america. he is a billionaire who doesn’t know what it’s like to come from humble beginnings. he was literally handed a multibillion dollar business & the rest was history !! he definitely is a bad guy since he doesn’t care about the environment or anything else. all he cares about is making money no matter who gets hurt. he was even considered to work for trump at one point but quickly declined !! he just wrote him a big ass check instead bcsjkhdfs

but he does love his family. he would do literally anything for his family despite his tough love approach to his two sons. but when it comes to sloane, he is a complete softie. she can literally do no wrong in his eyes which is why they have such a great relationship !!

darcy, on the other hand, did not come from a lot of money. like her husband, she’s also from georgia but she’s not from a rich suburb. she is from a rural town where she literally grew up in a trailer. & from an early age, she always knew she wanted more. she was always ungrateful for her life & could have cared less about how hard her parents worked to support her & her three other siblings.

things for darcy changed by the time she was eighteen !! she became miss. america which isn’t that big of a deal for most. but she took pride on receiving that title after years of competing in local pageants. despite not coming from a lot of money, she always knew how to fool the judges & everyone else for that matter. she really could have cared less about school, all she cared about was winning pageants.

so when she made it into miss. universe, she thought her life was going to be complete !! yet, it didn’t go according to plan. darcy lost the competition & her short lived media coverage quickly died. no one knew who darcy sinclair was until it was announced that she was marrying one of the heirs to windsor industries.

the reason why darcy wanted a daughter so bad was so she could also be a pageant contender. she didn’t want her daughter to grow up to be a doctor, a lawyer, or anything else for that matter. all she wanted for sloane from the day she was born was to be a pageant queen.

by the time sloane turned five, her mother had already registered her for her first pageant. & unlike the ones darcy used to compete in, this was prestigious. her entire childhood consisted of tap dancing classes & pageants taking priority over school. & because her parents pride themselves on their southern values, they really could have cared less about their daughter attending school. so it came as no surprise when she started to slip up !!

& of course, they bribed her school to fix her grades. from the outside looking in, everyone wanted sloane’s life. she had it all: money, family, looks, everything. but in reality, her mother was working her like a dog. she would be practicing for pageants seven days a week with little to no breaks. but once she was crowned little miss georgia, they knew she was destined for greatness.

the older she got, the more pressure her mother would put on her. & sloane took that pressure extremely seriously. all she ever wanted was to please her mother, so she would strive to be nothing less than perfect. & in order to keep up with the strict demands of her mother & her life, she started turning to drugs. at first, she would start taking adderall to have more energy that way she can cater to her hectic schedule.

even sloane will admit that her high school years were a blur due to her growing drug abuse. the only thing holding her together was her growing addiction to pills. her mother knew. she saw the empty pill bottles lying around her bathroom & there was even a late night where she had to call 911 after finding her only daughter unresponsive. but she never told anyone. she never even asked sloane if she was okay or if she needed help. she only cared about her daughter becoming miss. universe since that was a title that she was robbed of.

all her life, sloane has tried to please her mother. everything she has ever done has never been good enough for her. so by the time she was a senior in high school, she decided the only way to escape her life was by going to college. she knew she didn’t have the grades to get in anywhere far enough from atlanta, even if her parents ensured her transcripts were nothing short of flawless. but when she sat her parents down & told them that she wanted to attend college, she was surprised by their reactions. her father, who has always supported sloane, was willing to do anything she wanted even if that meant delaying his wife’s plans for her. & even her mother came around on the idea after she promised her that she would go back to training for miss. universe once she finished college.

& following her graduation from high school, she packed her bags & went to the university of chicago. she figured that this was a school far enough away from her mother which is why she told her father this was the school of her dreams. sloane never questioned anything during her applications process. all she knew was that she needed to leave her mother’s grasp & learn to live life for herself.

at college, she had decided to study photography soon realizing that is one of her passions in life. & she’s damn good at it too. & even though sloane started living life in college, her drug addiction only worsened. there, she was introduced to even more drugs & the craze of combining uppers & downers.

things started to get crazy last year during the college admissions scandal when it was revealed that spencer & darcy had paid to get sloane accepted into the university of chicago. the school agreed to allow her to finish the semester before they would ultimately expel her due to the negative press coverage. & of course on her last night at school, sloane ended up in the hospital.

after combining far too many uppers & downers at a frat party, she overdosed. this was not the first time she landed up in the hospital after a night out, but it was the first time her father found out. & once he found out, he ensured that she would seek the help she needed.

so that’s where sloane spent the entire summer !! in a private rehab center seeking treatment for drug addiction. however, her family could not afford anymore scandals. so they quickly buried any stories about their youngest child’s overdose & told the media that she was traveling the world with friends this summer. sloane’s scandal is something that they are without a doubt ashamed of despite how many times her father has insisted the opposite. they are willing to do anything to bury this secret, no matter the cost.

now, she’s twenty years old & living in new york. following her discharge from rehab, she wanted to move as far away from chicago as she could. she knows she can’t enroll in college anytime soon given her family’s involvement in the college admissions scandal, but she is wiling to do just about anything to avoid moving back home.

nowadays, you can find sloane vlogging !! she has a v successful youtube channel that is similar to matt king’s ( if ya’ll know who that is ily ). but all you need to know is that she is a daily vlogger with an artsy style & she definitely does q & a videos & all that fun stuff. she is still very dependent on her father’s money but she is making a lot of money off youtube.

personality & misc ;;

personality wise, i’d say she’s pretty easy going. her taste isn’t the usual which i’ll probs go into a little bit, but that doesn’t mean she’s not approachable unlike vi.

truth be told, she’s all over the place & has a lot of depth. she has the ability to light up any room she walks into but that doesn’t mean she lets people walk all over her. after dealing with darcy sinclair for eighteen years, sloane knows when to fight back & channel her rich bitch side.

she’s also really fucking smart despite her fuck ups & she would know her true potential if she just stopped getting fucked up all the time. even though she went to rehab, she isn’t clean but that doesn’t stop her from telling her dad she is.

has never had a serious relationship tbh

instead, she’s had flings that are like relationships without the title.

she may act like an independent bitch but she is also a 100% a daddy’s girl & calls him up for money every other week

very artistic

aside from photography, she is great at painting & drawing & you can find dozens of sketches lying on the floor of her room ( you can also find baggies on her desk tbh )

extremely possessive of her family despite her relationship with her mom. she won’t let anyone else insult her other than her.

hella impulsive

speaks fluent french

also has an apartment in paris that she visits all of the time

tbh, she’s just in love with art. you will always find her at a museum just gazing at art for hours

she’s also constantly leaving the country for vlog material

doesn’t want to think that she has an accent but low key does

even though she’s a huge perfectionist, her room is literally always a mess but she doesn’t let just anyone see that

overall, she is a perfectionist art h*e tbh

if you made it this far ily. here’s her pinterest board if you want to take a look !! it’s v late for me rn & i have to get up early tomorrow so i don’t have any wc listed out but i promise i will bombard you all with plot ideas okay ily

#wealthyhq:intro #hi #love me plz #drug addiction tw #drugs tw #uh idk what else #emotional abuse tw

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