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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

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FAKE DATE

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 10.822

Warnings: some cursing, fluff, mentioning of cheating

A/N: So.... this idea started as a quick idea for a one shot.... I guess, it got a little bit out of hand... but who cares... have fun... it's worth to read it

Summary: Your ex marries your cousin and because it's family, you have to attend there with a date. No matter how hard it would be for you. You talk with Crowe about it and she comes up with an idea: a fake date with one of her friends, Nyx Ulric. Nyx agrees reluctantly and even if he had sworn to himself to avoid meeting new people or rather to let them get too close … little did he know that you could change this plan without even knowing it…

"Crowe, it's horrible! I really tried to talk with my mother but she won't accept the fact that I don't want to come to this wedding. She said: 'We become a family. You're mature enough to work past all this'. Argh! I would love to scream.", you cried out, raking violently through your hair with your fingers.

"Yeah... Right... It's about maturity that you have to watch how your cousin marries your ex-boyfriend who had left you. For your cousin. This marriage is crazy. Since when do they even know each other?"

"For seven months.", you muffled into your hands.

"Wait! What? You met this idiot what? Ten months ago!"

"Yup. And then, we had a family meeting where he met my cousin. They got along pretty well. Maybe I should have sensed something there already. But I didn't.", you said heartbroken.

"So, he met your cousin behind your back, he cheated on you and your mother still wants you to join the wedding? Are really all of your family so stupid, sorry for that, to accept the fact that he’s a lying and cheating bastard?"

"Yes, they are!", you cried out, burying your face into your hands once again, "Just because he's some high-paid, upper class doctor. And you know what the worst is? I have to bring someone with me. A date. You know for the 'aesthetic'. It’s my mother’s twisted ‘perfect world’ thingy. But I don't have someone. I'm still hurt because of what he had done to me. I don't wanna meet someone new.", you breathed devastated.

Crowe nodded slowly, understanding your point because she was there as she had picked up the shattered pieces that had been your former self. Then, an idea popped up in her mind even if it was a tricky one, "YN, I might have a solution for your problem."

Slowly, you looked up, "Yeah... I already considered running away but I can't. My mother would find me everywhere."

Crowe chuckled, "No. Not that. Maybe we keep this running away idea as a back-up. No, I might have a solution for your date misery."

***

The next day, Crowe searched for Libertus and Nyx in the training area of the Kingsglaive headquarters. Finding them warping around, she watched them for a while before both men closed up to her for a small break.

"I will never really get used to this warping shit. My stomach makes somersaults all the time.", Libertus complained and rubbed over his stomach and chest to calm down the heartburn.

"Well, not every person is made for flying.", Crowe said teasingly what caused Nyx to chuckle and Libertus to roll with his eyes.

"So, what's up? It's a bit too early for you.", Nyx said, leaning against a pillar with crossed arms.

"Actually, I wanted to talk with you, Nyx. I... I need your help.", Crowe said carefully.

Nyx frowned as he saw the wariness in his friend's eyes, "And for what?"

"The thing is... I don't really need your help. It's rather a friend of mine.", Crowe said and saw how Nyx pressed his jaws together.

"Crowe? Is this another try to set me up with someone?", he asked serious.

Crowe gnawed on her lower lip, "No... Well... Not really?"

"Crowe! Come on. We already had that!", Nyx said serious, drawing his brows together.

Crowe raised her hands, "I know, I know. You made this clear the last time. But this is different. YN really needs help. Listen, their ex marries and they have to attend there-"

"Why? Why do they have to attend their ex' wedding?", Libertus asked confused.

Crowe grimaced, "Well, he's marrying their cousin."

"What?", Nyx and Libertus called out at the same time.

Crowe pinched the bridge of her nose, "It's a pretty shitty situation. This asshole cheated on YN with their cousin a few months after they started to date. But because he's such a great doctor, with much prestige and money, everyone seems to be cool with this wedding no matter how YN feels about this."

"Holy six...", Libertus whispered, shaking his head at how complicated this situation seemed to be.

"And why do you need me? What role shall I play in all this?", Nyx asked even if he already had an idea what would come next.

"Well... Not enough that YN shall be part of the wedding, they also shall bring a date along. Something about aesthetics or stuff. I dunno. Don't ask me. And that's the point where I need your help, Nyx.", Crowe said and looked at her friend with a pleading expression and a hopeful smile while Nyx stayed silent.

"Why don't you ask me for help?", Libertus asked, pointing at himself.

Crowe looked apologetically at the taller man, "Well, sorry, but I think Nyx is more of their type-"

"More of their type? Crowe!", Nyx called out, getting slightly agitated.

Crowe raised her hands in surrender, "Calm down. I don't wanna set you up with them. But YN shall bring a date to this already crazy and hilarious wedding. The idiot cheated on them for several months, left them and now, YN’s still very hurt. After the breakup and the announced engagement, they were a mess. I needed some time to collect all the pieces that were left from them. They're not able to date someone or to find someone new. So, I thought about a fake date. It's not a real date. You just have to act like it. Please, Nyx. You don't have to do much. Just accompany them to this wedding. Keep them company and distract them a little. Just have some fun."

Nyx considered the idea. He wasn't really in the mood for dates or weddings but he knew Crowe well enough. If she thought about this as a good idea, he really might be helpful. Nyx’ strong helper syndrome was now also kicking in once again, "So, just if I say yes, and I say if, what shall I do?"

On Crowe's lips grew a smile because she knew Nyx would say yes if he was already this far with his considerations, "Nothing much. You meet them. I guess they will pick you up or something. You attend the wedding in the church and the party afterwards together. That's it. You don't have any responsibilities except to be by YN's side as their date. Maybe support them a little bit during this whole carnival."

"And when shall this trickery be?", Nyx asked warily.

Crowe's face changed into a grimace once again, "That's the stupid part... It's this weekend."

"Crowe!", Nyx called out. It was already Wednesday.

"Hey! It's not my fault. YN also told me about it yesterday. Obviously, they tried to discuss this whole thing about the presence with their mother but she was very persistent with this point. Nyx, it's urgent. Next to you two, they're my best friend. I hate to see them suffer. It’s not fair because they’re a jewel of a person. That their ex shall get a happy ending after everything he had done is already the biggest joke. But now, he will become part of their family, as well. I really need your help.", Crowe begged.

Nyx took a deep breath and released the air slowly, "Alright, alright. I will do it. But", he said and raised his hand as Crowe already started to get excited, "I guess I need a tuxedo or something like this-"

"I will take care of that! You don't have to do anything like I said. I promise."

"Then, just one more thing. Maybe it would be better if we met before the wedding? You know, to check if we get along and if the chemistry is working."

***

"He did say yes?"

"You really had doubts?", Crowe asked with a smirk. Your reaction had been gold as she had told you that she had found a date for you: Nyx Ulric - one of her friends and colleagues.

In fact, you had heard a few things about him. That he was from Galahd, had lost his family and had a tendency to be a little bit gruff in front of others but with that he was just hiding his soft side, as Crowe had told you. To meet him and Libertus was long overdue, "Well... A little bit to be honest. I mean, he doesn't know me. I know we will just be acting but still it's like a blind date. What if we don't get along? It's all about chemistry and stuff..."

Crowe blinked and stared at you, "Well, I'm sure you two will like each other. In fact, Nyx mentioned the exact same doubts with the exact same words."

"Really? Well... it's maybe just coincidence.", you said, turning around to get something to drink from the kitchen.

But no matter how quickly you had been, Crowe had seen your blushing cheeks and grinned about it. It had been a long time since she had seen you like this: filled with life and pleasant anticipation.

"So, Nyx is okay with this whole fake date thingy?", you asked, while gnawing on your lower lip. You felt nervous to meet him even if he was a friend of Crowe.

Crowe smiled, "Don't worry, he is. You said you could get a tuxedo?"

"Yes! Of course. Just give me his size and I will take care of it. It's easy for me. Tomorrow, it can be here."

"Great. So, could I bring him here tomorrow? You two can meet and he can try on the tuxedo."

"Perfect idea. And I will cook something for us.", you said with sparkling eyes. You had no idea why but suddenly, you were even looking forward to meeting Nyx, your unexpected lifesaver.

***

"You said, I don't have to do anything.", Nyx complained as he made his way through the city the next day with Crowe by his side.

Crowe rolled with her eyes, "Yes and you really don't have to do anything except to try on one or two tuxedos, alright? It's not that I would drag you to a shopping trip. We meet YN at their place where you can try on the clothes. So, we will kill two birds with one stone."

Nyx had laid awake last night while thinking about this fake date idea. Sure, he wanted to help Crowe and her friend but that didn’t change the fact that there was a reason behind his reluctance to date new people. So, once again, Nyx asked himself if he really was doing the right thing…

As you heard the first knock at your door, you jumped by surprise. It was friday evening, the day before the wedding and it was arranged that Crowe and Nyx would visit you after they were done with their shift. But still, as your friend was there, you felt excited. You were even sick with nervousness to meet Nyx. He was the first guy you would meet after the horrible break-up and even if it was just a fake date, your hands became sweaty and your heart began to race.

The second knock brought you back to reality and you hurried to open the door, "Hey, guys. Come in-", you stopped as Crowe passed you and your eyes fell on Nyx who smiled at you warm and softly. Never in your life had you seen such a handsome, good looking man. Even your ex wasn't able to keep up with Nyx’ undeniable, rough sexiness. His eyes were the bluest and his lips the fullest. The stubble he sported and his greyish hair with the braids suited him perfectly. You noticed something wild in his appearance which got underlined by the tattoos on his face and ears. For the first time, you understood what Crowe had meant as she said that it was visible that Nyx was from Galahd. He wasn't hiding his roots and as it was for you, there was no reason for him to do this at all.

"YN?", Crowe asked as she saw you gaping at Nyx. Internally, she was pleased with herself. To see you like this told her that she had been right: Nyx was your type of guy.

Crowe's voice brought you back from your daydreaming, "Yeah... Sorry, I was just... Uhm...", you stammered.

Crowe grinned but stepped in to help you, "YN meet Nyx. Nyx this YN, my emotional support when I have to deal with too much of your bullshit."

You smiled thankfully, "Yeah... The support might be questionable nowadays.", you said shyly.

"That's okay. It will change again. I'm sure.", Crowe said.

"It's nice to meet you finally, YN. I heard a lot of great things about you.", Nyx said politely as you invited him in. As he and Crowe had gone to your place, Nyx was intimidated because of your fancy apartment complex. You were from Insomnia but because you were refugee friendly and even tried to help to improve the underground district your friendship with Crowe had been possible which calmed Nyx a little. But as you had opened the door, nervousness and excitement spread through his emotionally cold veins. Crowe had described you as nice, sweet and beautiful. But in Nyx' eyes, these words were far away from being suitable. Your eyes were clear and bright as you looked right into his soul. Your lips had such a rich color that they already looked delicious. Nyx knew he had to keep his composure together and actually he wasn't really interested in meeting new people as he always said like a mantra but you and your sweet appearance made it extremely difficult to stick to his plan.

"I'm sure Crowe made up a few things to let me look better.", you said chuckling.

As Nyx heard you laughing, his heart made a little jump and suddenly, he asked himself how it was even possible for someone to hurt you at all.

Pleased with Nyx' reaction about her friend, Crowe grinned, "No, I was always honest and I just told everyone how amazing you are."

"Liar. But that's okay. So, I... The tuxedos already arrived and the dinner is almost done. What about you try on the clothes, Nyx, and then, we eat?", you suggested.

"Sounds great.", Crowe said and went into the kitchen to check the oven for what you had prepared.

"Come on, I will show you the way.", you said to Nyx and guided him through your apartment into your bedroom, "So, Crowe gave me your sizes from your uniform. I got an anthracite and a black tuxedo. The only two colors my mother allows tomorrow. Just try them.", you said and shot the man next to a shy smile. Somehow, his scent was able to fill your small room so quickly that you knew it would be stuck there for a few days and you already were looking forward to it.

"Thanks.", Nyx said and cursed himself because he wanted to say more but he couldn't. Somehow, his tongue was tied up into a knot. Obviously, he had been out of training for human interactions a bit too long.

You were about to leave him alone before you stopped at the door once again, "I have to thank you, Nyx. I... If you wouldn't do that I'm sure I would die because of so many things tomorrow. I owe you really big. So, thank you really much.", you said with a shy smile and reddening cheeks. And before Nyx could say anything, you left the room and closed the door.

Nyx stared at the spot where you had stood. It was one thing to do Crowe a favor in helping you. But to see all these raw emotions mirrored in your eyes did something to him. Your voice had been filled with sadness even if you had tried to hide it. And somehow, deep empathy for you flooded his veins and anger towards your ex entered his muscles. He should accompany you? He swore to himself to do this and to watch out for you the whole evening. Because like Crowe, he already hated it to see you suffer.

"So, you like him, huh?", Crowe asked as you joined her in the kitchen.

You stared at your friend with shocked filled eyes, "I- I don't know what you mean.", you said defensive even if it wasn't really working.

Crowe grinned, "Come on, YN. I know you. And I saw how you were staring at Nyx. Therefore, you like him."

You felt your cheeks blushing and you even pretended to look after your cooking pots so you could avoid Crowe's smug smirk, "He's nice, yeah. I mean, I owe him a lot that he does this for me. I'm grateful for that."

"Yeah... Right. Grateful. Grateful with big, sparkling and hungry eyes-", Crowe said teasingly but got stopped by your elbow and in the next moment Nyx entered your kitchen to present himself. Crowe whistled, "Wow, look at this. I had no idea there could be a real gentleman underneath this gruff surface.", she said, which earned her an annoyed eye roll from the Glaive.

You smiled appreciatively, "Crowe has a point, tho. You look really great in this tuxedo.", you admitted. Indeed, Nyx had tried on the black tuxedo first and it was already a match. Because of the white suit shirt, his blue eyes seem to glow even more. His longer strands gave the tuxedo a nice, foreign touch you already liked, "If you ask me, you're done with testing. Is it comfortable?", you asked, checking the fit on his back.

"Yes, it's extremely comfortable. I had no idea it would fit so well.", Nyx admitted while the soft touch of your hands on his back gave him slight goosebumps.

"I'm not surprised. These are high-class tuxedos. They're very expensive. Don't worry, it's borrowed.", you explained as you saw Nyx' concerned expression, "No one should buy such things just for one evening. So, great. That was it. You're done. You can change again and then, dinner is ready. At least a little try to make it up to you and your time."

As Nyx disappeared in your bedroom once again, Crowe closed up on you with a smirk, "It's so good that I was right with my assumption that you two would fit together perfectly. And now, you will even have some eye candy to look at the whole evening. I'm the best friend you could ask for."

Instead of answering, you just rolled with your eyes even if she was right. But you wouldn't admit it out loud. Never.

"God, this was delicious, YN.", Crowe sighed satisfied as she leant back in her seat.

"I just can say the same. This was great. But if I may ask, what was it? I mean, I know the stuff you used but somehow the taste was … I never tasted like this before.", Nyx asked curiously. Whatever you had done, it was delicious but he never had found something similar in Insomnia before.

You chuckled, "Actually, it isn't something fancy. Vegetables, meat and rice. But the spices make the difference. You don't find these here in Insomnia. I got them from Lestallum. There's a huge market full of stands with spices and ingredients you won't find anywhere else. I like exotic stuff so this market is like a treasure."

While you had answered his question, Nyx was fascinated by the way your eyes started to glow in a new way. You were happy to talk about what you liked. Your happiness was contagious and made his heart jump. Nyx caught himself by the thought that this fake-date thingy wouldn't be as bad as he had thought in the beginning.

Crowe watched you and Nyx. She already saw the connection between you two and even if she respected your decision to be alone for a while after everything you had experienced, she saw that both of you were interested in each other. So, for her, it was the time to give you some space, "Oh, look. How late it got already. I have an early meeting tomorrow.", she said and jumped up from her seat, grabbing her jacket, "Thank you very much for this delicious meal and I wish you two a lot of fun tomorrow.", she said before she hurried out of your apartment.

Slightly speechless, you and Nyx looked after her. As Nyx met your eyes again, both of you were laughing. You looked at your clock on the wall, "Late my ass. We just have eight.", you pointed out while still laughing.

"You know what she's trying right?", Nyx asked with a grin.

"Of course. She's trying to set us up with each other."

Nyx shook his head with a grin, disbelieving that Crowe had pulled this trick, "And that although she knows that I don't want to date anyone.", he just said but regretted it immediately as he saw your face. It was a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Quickly, you tried to hide it behind a smile and that sight hurt Nyx even more than he thought, "Oh uhm... I- I didn't mean you... O-or this.. I.. I'm sorry, I...", he stumbled over his own words and cursed himself for speaking so mindlessly.

You waved with your hand to brush it aside with a weak smile, ignoring the disappointment, "Calm down. I know what you mean, Nyx. After what my ex had done, I'm also not much interested in dates. Don't forget that this will be just a fake date.", you said softly to reassure him before you collected a bunch of plates to be able to turn away from him.

But Nyx had seen the sparkling in your eyes that extremely resembled unshed tears. Once again, he cursed himself. Here he was, Nyx had promised to himself to protect you from everything that would happen at the wedding but was able to make you sad in his own way.

Quickly, he stood up, collecting the cutlery to go to your side, "Hey", Nyx said softly to get your attention, he smiled as you looked at him, "I'm sorry, YN. I didn't mean you at all. It's just...Crowe tried many times to matchmake me. It never ended well. I guess, it's because of my job as a Glaive. I try my best but... it's my work. I owe King Regis a lot for saving me. And I see myself forced to pay it back in protecting this city and its people."

"Don't apologize, Nyx. What you and the other Glaives are doing is honorable. Not everyone is able to cope with what you do all day for this city. If someone has a problem with that...well... it's just not the fitting person, I guess. The fitting person would always support you to make your life easier instead of making it more difficult.", you said and smiled.

Nyx was speechless about your caring words and your warm smile, "Thank you. You... I can see why Crowe cares so much about you. You're very sweet. And you know what? I'm looking forward to spending the day with you tomorrow."

You sniffled back a sob, "Thanks, Nyx. I'm sure it will be horrible tomorrow. Just the thought of seeing him makes me anxious right now. But to know you will be with me calms me already.", you admitted softly.

Nyx smiled but also wanted to change the heavy topic to something lighter, "So, about tomorrow. How shall we do it? Already have any plans?"

"Yeah, my idea was to pick you up but maybe it would be easier for you to come here so you don't have to carry the tuxedo around. I mean, if this would be okay for you?", you said while bringing Nyx to the front door.

"Sounds good. Oh, one thing. Shall I do something with my hair? It's not typical for Insomnian citizen-"

"No, please, don't!", you hurried but you looked away as you felt your cheeks blushing again.

Nyx chuckled, shooting you a smile as you looked back at him, "Don't worry. I won't change anything if you don't want to. I just want to make sure that you will have a nice day tomorrow."

***

The next day, Nyx knocked at your door as agreed. Once again he was excited to meet you. This time because he was looking forward to seeing you again. Usually, if Nyx was dreaming during the night, he had nightmares but the last night was filled with dreams about you. This morning, he was more rested and relaxed than ever before.

So, as you opened the door, Nyx was already smiling and happy but as he saw you, his smile faltered and his expression changed into staring, "Whoa, you look amazing.", he breathed.

Your small smile grew into something bigger that reached each of your ears, "Thank you. Come in.", you said excitedly and stepped aside to let Nyx into your apartment.

Ten minutes later, Nyx joined you in the kitchen, dressed in the tuxedo and ready. You prepared some coffee before the car would be there to pick you up, "So, what's scheduled for today?", he asked and closed the buttons on his cuffs. At least, he tried it.

You watched him fumbling for a few moments until you joined him for help, "In fact, everything's pretty timed. We will drive to the church were the wedding will be held. And after that we will drive further to the Caelum Via where the dinner and party will be. I just hope we can escape during the party when the official thing is over. So, it's done.", you said softly. Your fingers were brushing along Nyx' warm skin. You lingered a few seconds longer before you realized what you were doing.

Nyx felt the connection between you and him as well. Your touch was small, soft and warm and everything he wanted to feel again and again. As he saw your caught expression, he smiled at you to show you that it was okay and he saw that you understood.

Coffee, smalltalk and just being with each other let the time run too fast and as your doorbell rang for the arriving car you felt annoyed because this, with Nyx, was pure fun.

Nyx noticed the change in you and placed his hand on yours, "I will be with you all the time. Or, I will be close to you. You're not alone in this, okay?"

You nodded reluctantly but forced yourself to smile. And with Nyx by your side, you left your apartment for the worst day ever in your life.

But Nyx stuck to his word and was with you. The car brought you to the church and he was about to leave the limousine as he noticed that you weren't moving at all. Ignoring the driver's glance, he leant over to you, avoiding touching you in fear to scare you, "YN?"

You stared out of the side window. There was the church, the church you wanted to marry in one day. Not exactly your ex but generally. Flowers were decorated everywhere and between the different colorful plants stood your family. Your mother, your dad, both of your aunts and uncles and Matt...your ex.

Nyx followed your gaze and saw the group of people. Even without asking he knew it had to be your family, considering the fact how you were looking at them. Nyx noticed the younger guy in the festive attire and knew instinctively that it had to be the groom. The guy was tall, slim fit and looked like a lot of money. But the way he moved and talked was easy to dislike because he looked snobbish. Nyx saw your distress and felt sorry. He could just imagine what you were feeling right now, "Listen, we can go if you want.", Nyx suggested softly.

You shook your head, "I can't. We're family. My mother would kill me."

Nyx sighed low, "I know family is important but... you're also important. And if you think you can't handle this under these circumstances then it's okay. You don’t have to."

Slowly, you looked at him, already thankful to have him by your side, "I can do that. I have to."

Nyx nodded, accepting your determination before he left the car. The driver opened your door and as you left the car as well, Nyx was already waiting for you, offering you his arm to link your own with it.

As you two closed up on the group of your family members, your mother was the first to spot you. Suddenly, Nyx noticed a slight change in your behavior. You straightened yourself, you held your head high but the grip on Nyx' arm also became stronger.

"Darling! You look great.", your mother said, grabbing your shoulders to kiss you left and right of your face without touching your skin.

As she leant back, you saw the huge, happy smile on her lips that only money could produce, "Mother, you look lovely. The whole decoration is breathtaking.", you said with a huge smile.

It was fake. Nyx could already spot the difference because the smile didn't reach your bright eyes. Then, your mother's attention shifted over to Nyx and he swallowed thickly by the sight of her mustering glance at his appearance.

You noticed her glance as well and stepped in, "Oh, right. Mother, this is Nyx. Nyx, this is my beloved mother."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.", Nyx said politely and even bowed a little.

Internally, you grinned about her surprised expression because she never had expected such good manners with a guy who had Nyx' looks. You knew her well enough to know what she thought.

"It's a pleasure for me. Where have you two met if I may ask?", your mother asked.

You knew it was a test and you knew how to play this game, "Through a friend. Nyx is working for King Regis."

"For the King? That's amazing."

You saw the sparkling in your mother's eyes but before she could say anything else, you took Nyx' arm to guide him away, "Excuse us, we will go inside. Searching for our seats.", you said and without waiting, you passed the group to go into the church.

As you two were out of earshot from your family, Nyx leant to you, "That was smooth."

You grinned, "Have you seen her eyes as I mentioned the King? That was pure greed. It doesn't matter if it is money or prestige. She loves it. I'm sure she thinks you're a member of the royal family. And that's the reason why it's okay for everyone that my cousin marries Matt. He's a doctor. A high-paid surgeon. Money and prestige.", you explained.

As you and Nyx sat down, a thought struck his mind. He was just not sure if he should ask or not-

"You wanna know how I could land him?", you said as you saw Nyx' glance.

"No, not how you could land him. Rather...what you saw in him. I don't know you for long but...such a guy? I'm not sure if he suits you well…"

You nodded, "Yeah...trust me, now? I know that, too. But as we met, he was…", you stopped as you remembered the early time with Matt, "We met accidentally in a bookstore. Somehow, we ended in the same row of bookshelves and he bumped into me. Obviously, he liked me so he invited me for coffee. I agreed because he can be extremely charming. But if I think about it now, we never had something in common. I was imagining things and was blinded by his looks. Although ...well…recently, I've met a guy who is more handsome than Matt will ever be."

Nyx knew you meant him. In the way you had said it and how you looked at him told him whom you meant. Nyx' heart skipped a beat by the thought of how you saw him. In his eyes, it wasn't fair. Here he was, sitting next to you, starting to like you. He was attracted to you and still, he didn't want to have any love interest. It always ended badly and that was the last thing he wanted for you. Nyx wanted to say something, to lower your interest in him, but the wedding started and cut him off.

The ceremony was beautiful and romantic. You had to admit that even if you hated it. Your cousin looked wonderful and as they both brought up their vows in a solemn way, you had to suppress a tear because it was sweet and lovely what they swore to each other. Just the point 'I will never love someone else next to you' from Matt caused you to roll with your eyes. It was pathetic.

Most of the time, Nyx tried to stay focused on the wedding but it wasn't easy. His brain was busy with different things. On the one hand, he searched for a way to keep you on distance but whenever he had an idea, Nyx asked himself 'why?'. Why should he stay away from you when you were interested in him? He was interested in you, too. You were attractive, sweet and nice but also hurt. The last thing Nyx wanted was to take advantage of your sore emotions or to be the reason to get hurt even more.

"Nyx?"

Your voice brought him back to reality and he realized that the church emptied slowly, "Sorry, I was thinking about something."

"Totally get it. This wedding was...I don't know. Maybe it was the sweetest thing I have ever seen or the most hypocritical. But no matter what it was, it's over now."

"Then, if I may?", Nyx asked and offered you his arm once again.

Smiling, you took his arm and walked down the aisle with Nyx to leave the church.

As you reached the festive decorated ballroom of the Caelum Via, Nyx wasn't surprised anymore. You had told him that your family and even Matt's had a lot of money and they loved to show it. But even if you were dressed in something expensive and even if you knew how to act properly amongst all the other high society people, Nyx noticed that it wasn't really your world. You had been forced into it by blood and family relations.

You introduced Nyx to everyone you met on your way to your table. And not for one second, Nyx felt misplaced by you. You even gave him the feeling as if you were proud to have him by your side.

"Holy six, we have made it.", you sighed as you slumped down on a seat of the table you were aiming for, "Once again, I have to thank you."

Nyx smiled softly, "But I've done nothing."

"You're here. You're by my side. And you're not running away after meeting my family. You keep me sane. I would say you do enough."

Nyx watched you but he was sure he was right with his assumption, "You don't have the best bond with your family, do you?"

You chuckled dryly, "No, not really. It's better now but...I haven't become a lawyer like everyone else, tho. I mean, even my mother had been a secretary in a law office. There, she met my dad, who’s a lawyer. Like my uncles."

"So, you're kinda the black sheep?", Nyx asked amused and saw himself as confirmed: this world was not yours.

"Oh, yeah. You have no idea. That I dated Matt had raised my prestige in their eyes but…", you stopped as Matt and your cousin entered the ballroom under loud cheering, "I have no idea what I was for him. Time distraction? Toy? I mean, we had fun and I feel so stupid for not seeing anything coming."

Nyx had no idea what he should say to comfort you. Maybe there was even no way to comfort you at all. Things like this needed time to heal. But somehow Nyx got the impression that you were stronger than you seemed to be right now.

You wanted to say something but your mother and dad joined your table and gone was the calmness you had felt during the last few moments.

"Darling, have you congratulated Matt and your cousin?", your mother said, placing one hand on your shoulder and one on Nyx'.

That touch looked more possessive than you liked to see, "Of course, I did.", you said with a charming smile.

"Wonderful! Wasn't the wedding a dream? And the vows! I really had to suppress a tear."

"Yes, mother, it was wonderful.", you agreed.

"And you, Nyx? Everything's-", but your mother got called over by your aunts and excused himself again. Even your dad excused himself again.

Nyx waited till she was out of earshot before he turned over to you, "You haven't congratulated them, have you?"

"Of course not.", you said with a huge grin that made Nyx chuckling. You liked the way he smiled. You already liked his presence. He was calm and quiet but knew how to tell his stories to entertain you.

Quickly, the dinner got served and was done and the last part of this circus started: the party. You knew you couldn't leave right away. Even if you wanted to run away as far as you could, it wouldn't look too good. So, you stayed until you would find a good moment to escape.

"Hey, you wanna get some fresh air?", Nyx asked as he saw how you were watching Matt dancing with his partner closely to a slow, romantic song.

Like awakening from a trance, you blinked with your eyes and nodded as you looked at Nyx and his warm, encouraging smile. As you stepped out, you breathed in the fresh breeze with closed eyes.

Once again, Nyx caught himself staring at you in a fascinated way. While you walked across the balcony to the handrail, Nyx followed you slowly and thanked Crowe silently that he had met you, "How do you feel? You're still okay?", he asked carefully.

You turned over to him, "Yes. Yes, I'm feeling good. As I watched them dance, I noticed the way Matt looked at my cousin. He never looked at me this way and I'm… I'm getting okay with it. If they're happy then I don't care. Maybe this wedding was the right cure."

Nyx was impressed how strong you really were. He was sure that you were still hurt but it looked as if you were on the right way.

"Can I ask you something?", you asked, gnawing on your lower lip.

"Of course. I'm at your service no matter what it is. So, what do you desire to know about me?", Nyx said solemnly and smirked as he heard you chuckling.

"I know Crowe can use the King's magic. So, I guess, all Glaives are able to do that?"

"Yes. That's why we're members of the Kingsglaive. Not everyone is able to use these powers so, just the 'best' or talented of the refugees get picked out.", Nyx explained.

You nodded slowly, "It's too bad that refugees get used to fighting battles to secure this city instead of the citizens who actually live here.", you said while letting your eyes roam over the skyline of Insomnia.

"I'm okay with that. I mean, Niflheim attacked my home, Magiteks killed my family. If I can fight against them, I know I do the right thing. Taking revenge. At least as good as I can.", Nyx said low and also watched the scene in front of him.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Crowe told me about it once. Nothing much, just a few things. Is… Is this also the reason why you try to keep people away from you? In fear you could lose them as well?", you asked carefully. Maybe you were too bold but you felt a connection to Nyx that gave you the courage to ask these things.

With a sad expression, Nyx nodded. He was surprised that you had figured him out this quickly but maybe he wasn't such a riddle or you were really attentive when it came to him, "Yeah... you're not so wrong. I know how it feels to lose loved ones so I don't wanna put someone else through this as well. And as a Glaive things can turn bad really quickly.", he said and watched your reaction.

"I guess you're right."

Nyx nodded and felt an unknown pain stinging his heart that you thought like this as well.

"But", you started again, looking straight into Nyx eyes, "I got to know you a little bit today. Trust me, I understand your point but as I said yesterday, the right person wouldn't see a problem with that. I mean… you shouldn't be alone Nyx. No one should. And if you think life is so short for you, you should stop being alone and start to make the best out of the time you still have.", you whispered.

Without noticing, Nyx had closed up on you forced by your words. Unknowingly, you had hit a point: he was alone...rather he was lonely. He felt lonely when he was done with the training and went back to his empty home. He felt lonely when he came back after an exhausting fight on the battlefield. When he felt lonely, the flashbacks and nightmares became worse and darker. These were the times where he wished to have someone by his side who would be there for him. Who would drag him out of the darkness because their light was so much brighter than every shadow would ever be. Bright like your glowing eyes and your charming smile.

Slowly, Nyx leant forward and raised his hand without thinking about it. He just wanted to feel your skin under his touch. Softly, he placed his hand on your cheek and saw your surprise but you stayed where you were as if you wanted him to continue. Driven by your alluring scent, he closed the gap slowly and-

SCREESH!!!

The cry of a bird that flew above your heads let both of you jump away from each other. You and Nyx were breathing heavily while you two recovered from the shock. You smoothed down your clothes to distract yourself while Nyx ran a hand through his hair to do the same.

The situation became awkward but Nyx wanted to show you that everything was alright. At the same time, he wanted to show himself that everything was still alright between you and him, "Hey...uhm… You wanna see some magic?", he asked softly, almost shy.

You smiled, thankfully that Nyx had sensed the awkward tension, "I would love to.", you said while still recovering from the surprise that Nyx wanted to kiss you. Not that you would have stopped him…

Nyx grinned and raised his right hand. He showed you the bare palm and in the next moment, sizzling flames were dancing over his skin as if they were following a rhythm no one could hear. Nyx checked your reaction and was pleased as he saw your sparkling eyes, illuminated by the flames, and the growing smile.

Fascinated, you watched the flames. You felt the urge to touch them but as you closed up on the flames with your forefinger, you already felt the warmth so, you retreated your hand again, "It's hot! I don't know why I'm surprised but… Don't they hurt you?", you asked concerned.

Nyx chuckled, "No, not at all. If you can use elementary magic, you're safe. It's just painful for your enemy.", he said with a grin and was happy to see you smile again.

"Can you just produce fire? Or is there more?", you asked excitedly, totally hooked about the fact how cool this skill was.

"Two more. Lightning", Nyx said and killed the flames by closing his hand before his fist got enveloped by small, twitching bolts that ran across his hand like busy worms. But they became a bit too fast and 'overexcited' and Nyx casted them away before something could get hit by them, "And then, there's ice.", he said and changed the bolts into a subtle fog.

You leant forward to look closer but even in the dim light from the candles and the light coming from the ballroom, you noticed small, sparkling ice particles which were swirling through the fog. Whenever light hit them, they were glittering in every possible color like a prism, "I- I… that's so beautiful. I mean, it sparkles like millions of diamonds."

Nyx chuckled, he never had seen the magic he used on a daily basis as what it actually was: magic. It was something not many people could control. It was indeed something special, usually just reserved for the royal family and yet, he was also able to produce ice and let your smile grow even bigger than before as you had seen the fire, “I don’t know but I guess to see the world through your eyes must be wonderful. You seem to be delighted by the smallest things.”, Nyx said low but smiled as you looked up with a now shy smile on your lips.

“Life is more than just money and prestige. We are surrounded by wonders barely someone sees anymore. I mean, for example in Lestallum, the city uses the energy of a meteor that lies there for centuries. You should see the magical view by night. The golden and blue light dancing into the sky. I swear you never had seen something like this before.”, you said excitedly and once again, you noticed how Nyx was staring at you. It wasn’t unpleasant. Rather quite the opposite. It was a silly thought but somehow you had the feeling that Nyx could see more in you than just a little flirt and a nice kiss at some wedding.

It was crazy. As Crowe told you Nyx would be your type of man, you had laughed about it. After everything Matt had done you needed a break from dates and men and love and all these things. You didn’t want to quit it forever just a little longer but obviously your friend saw it differently and silently, you already thanked her.

Once again, Nyx was mesmerized by you. The way you saw things. How you looked at the world. How you looked at him. He was sure you weren’t flawless - no one was. But no matter what kind of flaws you would have, he wouldn’t care about it. He would deal with everything as long as he could keep you in his life. Giving him the magic he had lost somewhere in his life. Maybe you could be friends or … maybe even something more.

Nyx killed the ice and once again, he leant in for another attempt to kiss you. The moment was perfect again. The way you looked into his eyes and how your lips slightly parted told him what he needed to know - you wanted the same. So, he stepped closer, cupping your face with both hands softly as if you were made out of glass and while you leant forward to meet him on the half way, Nyx leant forward to kiss you-

"Hey, YN, can we talk for a moment- Oh! I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?", Matt asked and grinned amused as he saw you and Nyx jumping away from each other like caught teenagers.

You cursed internally because it was the second interrupted kiss and you had no idea how many times Nyx would try his luck considering the fact that he even was willing to go this step at all.

Nyx saw that you were annoyed. And he felt the same. He had noticed that you wanted the kiss as well so it was clear for him to try it again but maybe all the interruptions were just signs for him to let it slip? Maybe he shouldn’t try his luck because he was still the Glaive who could die during the next battle. He looked from you at Matt who closed up slowly no matter if his timing had been good or not. And suddenly, Nyx saw that the guy had done this on purpose. He saw it in Matt’s gleaming eyes and in his smirk that he was amused about the fact to humiliate you once again. But as you had said before, he was part of your family now and maybe Matt just wanted to apologize or something. So, Nyx did the only logical thing that came to his mind, "Is it okay for you? I will get something to drink for us then.", he asked carefully, watching your reaction.

You weren’t amused about the idea to be alone with Matt but you nodded. You understood that Nyx might need a break. You waited till Nyx was gone before you crossed your arms over your chest, “You wanted to talk?”

"Yeah, this guy… Tell me, what did you have to pay him so that he would accompany you to this wedding as your date? I’m sure he’s a stripper or something like this. Poor soul-", the loud slap into his face let Matt stop in his sentence. While holding his stinging cheek, he looked back at you, surprised that you were even able to have such a power.

With raging eyes, you stared at him, standing your ground in front of him for the first time. All the anger and sadness you had felt had laid in this one single slap and even if you were no fan of violence, you noticed how relieving this had felt. It had been long overdue, "Don't you ever dare to talk like that about him ever again. He's a Glaive! Protecting you and everyone else in this city with his life."

"Oh, interesting! So, he's just a refugee? He’s not from here? Fascinating with what kind of people you spent your time with. Your mother will be pleased to know that.", Matt said with a smirk, turning around to go back into the ballroom to find your mother.

You called Matt back and he stopped, looking expecting at you with one raised brow. You saw the surprise about your courage in his eyes but the thing was your strength was never gone you just had forgotten to use it. You just needed a trigger to get back to your old self and Matt had found this point without knowing it. So, you stepped forward, keeping eye contact until you stood right under Matt’s nose. With a low but serious voice and a lopsided smirk on your lips you said: "You know, it doesn't matter what he is or not. It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else will think. He’s a soldier and it’s honorable. It doesn’t matter where Nyx comes from. And besides, Galahd was a beautiful, magical and unique place before Niflheim decided to destroy this jewel. No matter what you will do or say to whomever, Nyx will always be more of a man than you will ever be in your entire life, you little, lying cheater.", you said and ended your little speech with a sweet grin as you saw Matt’s shocked and surprised expression.

As you watched satisfied how Matt disappeared back into the ballroom and into the world he belonged to, your eyes landed on Nyx who stood there in the door frame with two drinks in his hands and staring right at you with big eyes.

With a soft, warm smile you walked over to Nyx, taking one of the drinks from his hands, “So, you heard what I said, I guess?”

“Y-yeah, actually every single word.”, he whispered, still not believing what you had said about him, “You had defended me in front of him. I- I mean, I have no idea what he did so you would react like this but … it was impressive to watch and … flattering.”, Nyx said honestly.

You nodded before you gulped down the stiff drink in one go to calm your nerves, “You know, to talk back to this asshole was long overdue. And … as long as he was attacking me it was okay but you … You don’t deserve this. Never. From no one. And mostly not from one person in this room.”, you said and somehow Nyx’ eyes were sparkling even more. Emotions were staring back at you which seemed to be buried away for a very long time.

Nyx, who was still flashed by you, closed the small gap, cupped your face and leant down to kiss you and this time, it worked. As he felt your warm, soft lips, he couldn’t believe it. An emotionally lightning shot though his body and electrified him within seconds as if he had been dead before for years. Your lips tasted as sweet as he had imagined and that you moved along with him gave him goosebumps.

Your heart skipped a beat as Nyx kissed you. It was perfect. It was the only way you could describe this whole scene: as perfect. Nyx’ full lips were warm and demanding in a sensual way. He kissed you not to say something he couldn’t find words rather because he just wanted you. To pull him closer, you grabbed into his suit shirt and jacket what caused Nyx to chuckle about your eagerness but you didn’t care. Like a thirsty plant for water, you were thirsty to taste more of Nyx.

Slowly, the kiss increased as both of you opened your mouths to taste each other's tongues, exploring each other. Nyx still tasted the stiff alcohol on you and breathed in your breath while deepening the kiss. He moved his hand from your face down to your back to pull you closer-

“YN! That’s not appropriate behavior for a wedding!”, your mother called out.

Slowly, you left Nyx’ lips, not seeing any reason to hurry at all. With a stupid grin you looked into the most perfect blue eyes you had ever seen which were sparkling with so much fire and joy as if their light had been rekindled after a very long sleep.

Nyx matched your grin and was still holding you in his arm, snaked firmly around your waist, not ready to let you go just now. Gently, he nudged your nose with his own, “What do you want to do now, YN? Any plans?”, he asked.

“We will leave this place. Together. Come on, Glaive.”, you said, taking his hand in yours to leave the balcony. As you passed your mother, who stared at you in shock, you said: “Goodnight mother, we will leave. Usually, I would say ‘it was a nice evening’ but that would be a lie.”, you said and stepped forward before you stopped once again, “Oh, and I didn’t congratulate the bridal couple because, well, for reasons. But I’m sure they will be happy together. Something tells me they deserve each other.”, and with that said, you left the wedding with Nyx.

Your mother was calling after you but you ignored her. But if you would have turned around one last time, you would have seen how your dad was grinning and cheering for you because in his eyes, you had done the best move possible.

While the driver of the limousine drove the two of you back to your place, none of you said something. You were just cuddling. As Nyx had entered the car, you had scooted over to him immediately, leaning your head against his chest while he laid his arm around your shoulders. You had intertwined your fingers with his and with your thumb you drew small patterns on his skin while you were smiling stupidly.

Nyx followed his own thoughts while burying his nose into your hair to breathe in your scent. But none of his thoughts were dark anymore. Rather, he asked himself why he had withdrawn himself the whole time and thought he would do the right thing? The only one he was punishing was himself and with you, he realized that he had done it far too long. The first kiss had been enough to spark the dying flame of all his hopes and dreams again. But the flame wasn’t just some smoldering. It was a roaring fire that filled his chest with all the emotions he had sealed somewhere deep all these times before. Just one kiss with you had been able to break this firm seal.

There was no turning back and Nyx would fight like on the battlefield to let this fire burn till he would die…

Still cuddled to Nyx’ side, he brought you to your floor and to the apartment door. You were about to open the door which would mean the end of the night as you turned around, flinging your both arms around Nyx’ neck to kiss him longingly.

Nyx didn’t need to get asked twice. He pressed you against the door, letting his hands roam over the fabric of your clothes to get a first feeling of your curves while he noticed how your fingers found their way into his hair. You played with the longer strands, tracing down the braids and stopping at the beads you found. Alone this touch was enough to make Nyx hungry for more.

You were surprised how soft his greyish hair really was. The whole evening you had asked yourself how Nyx’ hair would feel between your fingers but reality was so much better than what you had thought. Unfortunately, your lungs demanded oxygen and so, just very reluctantly, you left Nyx’ lips. He rested his forehead against your and was as breathless as you were but he was also grinning. Still playing with his hair, you pushed yourself to ask the question you wanted to ask, “You… Would you like to come in?”, you asked hopefully that he would say yes. For you, the night was still not over.

Nyx leant back, looked into your eyes and chuckled before he smirked about your confusion, “Of course, I want to come in. My clothes are still in your apartment. Remember?”, he teased.

“Oh, right… your clothes.”, you said, grinning from ear to ear, “How inconvenient this coincidence is.”, you teased back.

“Just open the door and I’m sure your clothes will join mine pretty soon.”

***

Two months later…

You stood in your kitchen, preparing the morning coffee as you did every day. The rising morning sun was illuminating your apartment in a magical, golden light. It was this kind of light and the smell of the brewing hot liquid that made it easy for you to lose track of your thoughts. Just two strong arms around your middle brought you back to reality and conjured a lovestruck smile on your lips.

You turned around in the arms to face Nyx who was matching your smile even if it was a tired one. Even his hair was tousled and so, you smoothed down the long, stubborn strands before you pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, “Good morning, handsome.”, you whispered.

“Morning, babe. I missed you in bed. I wanted to cuddle.”, he said, pouting.

You chuckled softly, feeling sorry to disappoint him, “I know but I have this important call in an hour and have to do a few things before- hey! Let me down! Nyx!”, you shrieked, laughing by surprise. Nyx had grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder. With you hanging upside down, he carried you back to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as Nyx let you carefully down on the mattress, “Nyx, come on. I don’t have time.”, you chuckled while he was crawling on top of you, kissing along all the bare skin of yours he could find.

“You said one hour. That gives me still forty minutes to have some fun with you. And then, you will still have some time to prepare whatever you want.”, Nyx said between a bunch of hot kisses along your collarbone before he continued over your neck, your weak spot he had figured out really quick.

You sighed, obeying him and his lips as you always did when he was in this kind of mood. It were two months you dated Nyx and it was still thrilling like in the beginning, “But this call is important. It’s with my dad. You know, because of the contracts I need for the refugee foundation.”, you moaned while Nyx bit into your neck. It was already difficult for you to keep your thoughts straight.

Nyx leant back, looking at you with a smirk, “With your dad, huh? He will understand it if you need some extra time. Don’t forget that he likes me. A lot. So, stop trying to resist me. It’s not even working. Just obey me and my lips.”, he breathed, leaning down, “I know you want me.”, Nyx whispered and kissed you passionately that you melted underneath him. Like you always did.

And Nyx was right. You were delayed and you apologized a hundred times to your dad but as you mentioned Nyx, your dad was understanding and brushed it off with a smile and a bunch of questions about Nyx and how he would be doing. In fact, since the wedding two months ago, your whole life had taken a complete turn.

After the wedding, Nyx stayed the night. And the next night. And the night after that. Quickly, the two of you had developed a deep, loving and strong relationship and three weeks later, you followed your heart: you had asked Nyx to move in with you. You didn't need much persuasion because Nyx was looking forward to being able to spend more time with you.

Your mother had called you after the wedding, scolding you for your behavior and how you could dare to bring a refugee as a date. But quickly, you gave her a talk about how bigoted she was and that she had to be more open minded if she wanted to keep you in her life. Very slowly, she realized that you meant what you said and gave in. She needed a bit more time but after a while she started to like Nyx, too.

It was helpful that your dad liked Nyx from the start. After the wedding, your dad had called you to congratulate you for your impressive act in front of your mother before you had left. In fact, he also had heard your little speech you had given Matt as you had defended Nyx and was proud about this as well. You had been speechless because til this day, you never had thought your dad would be proud about anything you ever did. And because the ice was broken between you and him, you talked about everything.

So, three weeks after the wedding, as you, Nyx, Pelna, Libertus and Crowe sat at Yamachang’s, you came up with an idea. You loved spending time with Nyx, Crowe and the others. You loved being in the underground of Insomnia where the refugees were living. You loved the different foods and the music, the atmosphere was unique and exotic but the circumstances the refugees had to live in were questionable. So, you had the idea to do something against it. You were already a big fan of the different cultures and you were convinced Insomnia would benefit as a city if it would use this unknown knowledge.

And with the help and support of your dad, who was hooked by your idea immediately, you started and planned a foundation to help the refugees. The infrastructure of the underground had to be changed and some things had to get modernised while the heart and the soul of everything had to be preserved.

You never congratulated Matt on his wedding and if he was at family meetings, you just refused to come as well. Your mother was raging. Your dad had your back with the most creative excuses. But now and then, when you were awake at night, and while you were watching Nyx sleeping next to you peacefully, you thanked Matt for cheating on you. Otherwise, you would never have found this treasure of a man who had turned your world upside down.

You never thanked Crowe for setting you up with Nyx and you didn’t have to because you knew she was already proud of her matchmaking skills. To see two of her best friends finding happiness and love in each other was enough regard for her.

Because in the end, she had done nothing more than finding a fake date for you, a friend in need…

#nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x female reader #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #nyx ulric x male reader #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy kingsglaive #final fantasy 15

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the-expose-on-girls · 2 years

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Toxic Girls at Church

Hypocrites, backstabbers, fake friends OH MY!

Miss "Modesty is Hotesty"

Often mistaken for a hippie or a member of a much more strict religious group, because she is always wearing long skirts, loud print shirts, and sandals regardless of the season. Puts on an ultra pure and demure act: always getting SUPER into worship, journaling a lot, being charitable when people are watching, and saying "oh, I would never do that" about the most tame things, like wearing a two-piece swimsuit or listening to Lady Gaga. Will play the God card in all interactions with guys, simultaneously turning one guy down with "God told me you're not the one and should remain my brother in Christ" while telling another guy "God told me you're the one and we will have the cutest family one day". When asked what her dream is, she will answer something like "marrying a missionary and feeding starving orphans in Africa"—then will proceed to flirt with every guy BUT the future missionaries. But in ACTUALITY: she's got list of ex's she played with—I mean!—"who broke her heart" longer than her T Swift breakup playlist; makes girls hate her by stealing boys and spilling secrets—general backstabbing, breaking girl code, etc.—then tells them she's praying for them to help them deal with the anger in their heart; and definitely has her moments of tossing aside the modesty act to go after all the boys' attention while condemning other girls for their clothing choices. Basically the biggest hypocrite who fools everyone with her pure, innocent, child of God act while doing the very things she speaks against.

The Dream Girl youth leader

Honestly, genuinely a good person, but just a little oblivious of how hypocritical she can be. Will preach to the girls in her small group all day long about modesty and waiting for God to bring you "The One", but will wear skimpy, see-through clothing (by her own definition) to a youth swimming event in front of all the teen boys. Will lecture the girls about not dancing provocatively, then will lead upbeat worship songs with (by her own definition) way too much hip movement for an audience of teen boys. She's totally oblivious to the fact that all the boys 4+ years younger than her have a crush on her and the girls she's leading don't have a chance with guys their own age as long as she's around. But aside from mild hypocrisy due to utter obliviousness, she's a well-meaning sweetheart.

Pinterest "Perfect"

She most definitely looks the part of a "good church girl": perfectly curled balayage hair, breezy tunics with ankle boots all in earth tones, cross necklace, daily aesthetic Bible verse story posts on Insta, can relate even their most 1st world problem to a Bible verse on suffering/persecution/faith, decorates their car and bedroom with words like "joy" or "peace". Obsessed with rose gold. Probably ONLY shops at Maurice's. Basically looks like she stepped out of a Christian white girl Pinterest mood board. Always updating her Insta followers on her Bible reading plan. Constantly claims to be "waiting for God to bring her The One" and into "Godly dating" but ACTUALLY would much rather take matters into her own hands by trying to seduce any decently attractive guy in sight for her own amusement, taken or not. Overdone purity act is just to hide the fact that she spends more time in others' beds than her own and her second favorite pastime is backstabbing people who care about her. Has at least one friend who was a teen pregnancy story and a TON of proverbial skeletons in her closet. Claims she's above drama but little does anyone know, she's actually the starting point of a lot of it. The most skilled out of all of them at hiding her dark side.

Clique-ites

A special breed of toxic church girls known for their UNDYING LOYALTY to their cliques. They do not associate with girls outside of their posse. EVER. Church is just an extension of their high school life: boys, music, clothes, and excluding others. Might be at church only because their parent(s) forced them, but it's hard to tell for sure. May or may not sneak out behind the building to experiment with various substances during youth group. Their corner of the cabin at summer camps / retreats looks like a sleepover hurricane zone at their own house and they are always within said zone (whispering about fellow cabin residents and giggling) unless leaders pry them out of it for group activities. If the leaders don't take their phones away, they will spend any free moment texting school friends who aren't at camp. During small groups and such, leaders force them to interact with other girls and they pretend to be friendly, even learning the names of the girls they've been around for years. But as soon as the retreat is over, it's back to treating those poor girls like they don't exist. They make all other females feel like ugly ducklings and second class citizens just by ignoring them so hard. Their only redeeming quality is that they can never backstab you, because they will never be close enough with you to do so.

(Disclaimer: this is not hate towards any church-going religion. This is not slut shaming. This is simply prominent archetypes of girls who show negative/toxic/hypocritical behavior while in a religious environment, based on my own experiences. I hope my venting can be helpful to someone out there, by letting them know what to watch out for and avoid.)

#christian white girl #mean girls #fake girls #two faced #drama #backstabbers #hypocrite #girlvsgirl

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ihavethoughtsplural · 4 years

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Blood and Chocolate: An Adaptation in Name Only

Previously: Section 0 – Introduction, Section 1 – The Book, Section 2 – Adaptation Challenges

Section 3 – The Adaptation

Preface: The 2007 adaptation of Blood and Chocolate directed by Katja von Garnier and written by Ehren Kruger and Christopher Landon did not receive critical acclaim. It stands at 11% on Rotten Tomatoes, and a New York Times review by Jeannette Catsoulis called it “uninvolving and cliché-ridden”. The box office returns were similarly underwhelming, grossing $3.5 million domestically and $6.3 million internationally against a $15 million budget – an $8.7 million loss for a production company used to receiving at least a modest return on investment for other, similar properties.

(Ahem.)

But, does it have any merit? It may have failed by the metrics of profitability and critical response, but that does not mean that the film was an entirely, or even partially, failed endeavor.

Summary: Following a surprisingly faithful Romeo and Juliet plot, the movie Blood and Chocolate centers on Vivian, the werewolf Juliet, an orphan living in Bucharest with her Aunt Astrid, who serves as a rough Nurse analogue. They are ruled by Gabriel, the Paris, a tyrannical pack leader with romantic designs on Vivian. The human Romeo, Aiden, is a wandering American artist who encounters Vivian anonymously in an empty church, whereupon he becomes determined to find and court her. Meanwhile, tensions are rising with the Tybalt character, Vivian’s cousin Rafe. He discovers Vivian and Aiden’s romance, threatens Aiden, and is eventually killed by Aiden in self-defense.

Eventually, Vivian gets poisoned and she and Aiden attempt to escape the city. She is captured and locked up in Gabriel’s headquarters, where Aiden arrives and rescues her. In the process, Vivian kills Gabriel. Afterward, they escape, steal Gabriel’s car, and drive off into the sunset.

Also, there’s a prophecy about Vivian? More on that later.

Themes: The themes of the movie deviate sharply from the themes of the book. No longer does Vivian struggle with what she wants as opposed to what she needs, because the movie removes any such opposition. In the movie, as in the book, Vivian wants to be with Aiden, but the movie rearranges the rest of the plot and the characters so that what she no longer needs to accept (and find a partner who also accepts) her dual nature as a werewolf to find happiness and fulfillment. Instead, what the film version of Vivian needs is to get away from her creepy, possessive pack leader and forge her own destiny. This “need” no longer stands in opposition to her “want”. On the contrary, the two share a resolution – run away from Bucharest with Aiden. The tension between the human and the animal sides of Vivian’s nature is also reworked. In the book, she can’t pretend to be human, but she also can’t lose control and give in to her animal side. She needs to balance both. The movie, on the other hand, has Vivian definitively choose her human side by choosing Aiden. Actually, no, it’s not just that she chooses her human side – the movie shows her actively rejecting her werewolf side throughout the movie. And, well, given the way that werewolf society is treating her, I can’t really blame her. I wouldn’t fight to stay with these people either. They were ready to pair her off with a man old enough to be her father without her consent.

Honestly, I wasn’t really wondering why she wanted to leave with Aiden, but more wondering why she hadn’t left already.

This leads into the theme that was added for the movie: destiny vs. choice. As a girl from “the line of Kings,” Vivian is destined by a nebulous prophecy to lead the Bucharest pack into the Age of Hope. Who prophesied this? If she’s from the line of Kings, why is Gabriel leading the pack? Does Vivian even fulfill this prophecy? We never really find out.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for a prophecy storyline. It just – it has to matter. And the prophecy in this movie does not matter. You could cut every mention of it, and nothing substantial would change. One of the biggest mysteries about this movie is why the screenwriters added a prophecy element if they weren’t going to bother to pay it off.

She is also destined (either by the prophecy or because Gabriel says so) to be Gabriel’s next mate, continuing the tradition of the pack leader choosing a new mate every 7 years. Vivian does not appear to have a choice in the matter.

Throughout the movie, Vivian feels chained by this destiny, leading her to keep Aiden at a distance and warning him away from her. Aiden, however, ignores her boundaries and her clear wish to be left alone. He tells her that she needs to ignore her family’s plans for her and make her own choices, mostly because he’s hoping that she’ll chose to date him. In the end, Vivian accepts Aiden’s outlook, choosing to defy Gabriel’s wishes by saving Aiden and escaping Bucharest with him.

Highs: There are two major elements that I like about this movie, and I do honestly like them. I’ve watched this movie a lot, and, no, it’s not just hatewatching. I genuinely enjoy this movie.

o The Cast: I really like Agnes Bruckner. She was great in the slasher movie, Venom, and I think she made an admirable Vivian. Despite some of the cheesier lines, she turns in a decent performance. I believed that she felt guilty about her family’s deaths. I believed that she felt torn between her attraction to Aiden and her duty to her pack. I even believed that moment in the ending where Vivian can’t bring herself to kill Gabriel, despite the threat that he represents.

Of course, the script ruins that seconds later when she just… shoots him anyway? Also, and this is a violently American thing to say, but did they have to use the wimpiest sounding gun possible?

I think that Hugh Dancy as Aiden was the standout performance of the movie. He portrayed Aiden as playful, sweet, and resourceful, and his switch from sensitive artist to unlikely badass is nicely set up with his story about defending himself against his abusive father. I also think that he and Bruckner have some decent chemistry. Say what you will about the romantic fountain montage - they look like they’re genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Also, he spends the last half of the movie bruised and slightly bloody, and I don’t mind that at all.

As for the rest of the cast, I think they gave fine performances despite the material that they had to work with. When movies fail, there seems to be an impulse to blame the cast and rip their performances apart – but I won’t. I don’t blame the cast for the commercial and critical failure of this movie – I blame the people who had actual creative control (the producers, director, screenwriters, etc.).

o The Concept: An ancient dynasty of werewolf leaders extending from primeval Europe into the modern day? Yes fuckin’ please! This is exactly the kind of canon expansion that I was craving from the book! And, okay, yeah. The book’s version of werewolf society is very different from the movie’s version. In the book, werewolf packs are moderately sized clusters of families and individuals ruled by an alpha pair. Other werewolf packs exist, but there doesn’t seem to be any person or group governing werewolf society as a whole. This would seem to directly contradict the movie’s take on werewolf society, but it doesn’t have to. The book’s werewolves originated in western Europe, and from there emigrated to the US in the 1600’s. The movie’s werewolves originated in eastern Europe and stayed there. There’s no reason why those two groups of werewolves couldn’t have started with or evolved two different social structures leading up to the present day. In fact, if you can ignore the shared titles and character names, the movie Blood and Chocolate can be viewed as a new story set in the fictional universe established by the book Blood and Chocolate. And that’s how I choose to view this– it lets me get past my nerd rage and enjoy the movie for what it is.

Lows: While I do honestly enjoy this movie, I would be lying if pretended that it was flawless. Blood and Chocolate didn’t get its reputation by accident. Here are my thoughts on some of the more egregious missteps. o The Script: Okay guys, we need to talk. I’ve seen people defending this movie, saying that it’s an unfairly maligned gem, and I CAN’T. Guys, the dialogue. Have you LISTENED to the dialogue?

Aiden, pleading: “I’ll take the train, I swear it. I’m gone. I’m on that train.”

Rafe: “I AM THE TRAIN!”

(Boy, WHY are you crouching on the railing like a heterochromatic gremlin?)

Like I said in the last section, I don’t blame the actors for the movie’s failure. I don’t. They had no control over this shit. I do, however, blame the screenwriters; all SIX of them. This film had SIX separate people working on the script and was still released with Hugh Dancy shouting, “If you cared a goddamn thing about me, you would have left me before we ever met!”

This is astonishing for its misunderstanding of linear time if for nothing else.

Seriously, though – Hugh Dancy, cinnamon roll and internet darling, cannot make these lines sound good. When even the best actor in your movie can’t make it work, you know that the script is baaaaad.

o The Wolves: Remember the bit about practical effects vs. CGI in the previous post? Yeah, the filmmakers went hard on the CGI. It made sense given the relatively small budget to go the CGI route as a money saving maneuver. However, the director, Katja von Garnier, decided to use the CGI in the most ridiculous way possible.

(🎶 FIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT! 🎶)

The werewolves jump into the air, turn into an ethereal glow, and emerge as wolves. While this is not an inherently bad idea (it’s different, and it could, in theory, look cool), the execution was a huge misfire. Seeing the actors leap forward into a sparkly, pastel shimmer was never anything but ridiculous, and the Sailor Moon aesthetic of it just did not fit with the grungy, realistic look of the rest of the movie.

(Hey, cinematographer: if you want these transformations to fit with the rest of the movie, maybe make the movie LESS F*ING BROWN?) Additionally, the transformed werewolves were simply real wolves. Listening to Katja von Garnier’s commentary, you come away with the impression that she is suuuuuper proud of getting the cast and crew to work with live animals. However, the wolves that they used are a bit on the smaller side.

As a result, they didn’t really inspire much fear. For example; in the scene where Rafe murders the girl he’s been stalking, you see both the girl and the wolf in the same shot, and it absolutely kills the tension. Like, girl - roll up a newspaper and boop him on the nose.

o Rafe: The screenwriters desperately wanted Rafe to be menacing, and bless Bryan Dick for trying, but it does not work at all. Rafe in the movie is petulant, sleazy, definitely an asshole, and explicitly a murderer, but I never believed him as a threat. In the confrontation at the chapel, Hugh Dancy stands half a head taller than Bryan Dick, and while neither of them are exactly musclebound, it’s pretty obvious who would win in a fight. For me to buy Rafe as a legitimate danger, he needed to be less foppish, more unhinged, and just physically bigger.

(FFS, Vivian is taller than he is! How is he supposed to be intimidating?)

o Gabriel: I don’t know who decided to turn the romantic lead of the book into the jealous villain of the movie, but they need to be slapped across the face with a trout. It’s been over a decade since the movie came out, and I have learned to shrug off most of the bizarre adaptational choices, but this one still just pisses me off. The evisceration of Gabriel’s character is the biggest betrayal of the source material.

In the book, Gabriel was a foil to Aiden, and Vivian choosing Gabriel symbolized her acceptance of her dual nature. It meant that she wouldn’t have to compromise her identity to be accepted and loved. The adaptation could have provided an opportunity to rework Gabriel’s character arc. It could have cleaned up the age-gap ickiness, removed the non-consensual kiss, nixed the prior relationship with Vivian’s mother and generally made Gabriel as a love interest more palatable for movie audiences. But, whatever. The filmmakers already threw out the core of the human vs. animal theme from the book, so why not just utterly warp Gabriel while they’re at it? Plus, the clueless human love interest vs. the lecherous supernatural stalker dynamic worked for Underworld, so it’s going to work here, right?

The Stuff I’m Choosing Not to Nitpick (in depth): I just- I don’t know, man. I used to get really worked up about this stuff, but I don’t really feel like devoting any real analysis to these points. Take these potshots and do with them what you will.

o The Parkour: Time has not been kind to parkour. The filmmakers gambled on it being cool for the long haul, and they lost that wager. I get that it takes a lot of skill, and I get what the filmmakers were trying to do with it, but it just looks silly. o The Hunt: I mean, it directly violates the most important werewolf law from the source material, but I’m willing to believe that this ancient werewolf faction in Romania came up with a sanctioned way to hunt humans, so I can forgive this. o The Eye Thing: The early-mid aughts were really impressed with the power and symbolism of colored contacts, weren’t they?

o Astrid: They mashed Astrid and Esme’s characters together and called the resulting chimera Vivian’s aunt. I don’t hate this change as much as I used to. I mostly just wonder why they bothered. The movie had already changed the book’s storyline so much that neither Astrid nor Esme were necessary for the new plot. They could have cut this character out entirely and no one would have missed her.

o The White Wolf: Of course the main character turns into the only white wolf in the movie. ‘Cuz symbolism!

o The (implied) Sex Scene: Sure, she’s dying of silver poisoning, you’re both hiding in a decrepit film warehouse and the werewolf mafia is hunting you, but GO AHEAD. This is the ideal time AND place to bone!

(This woman is clearly DTF.)

Verdict: I want to be really clear on this point – I love this movie. I mean, let me remind you of my cinematic tastes.

Here’s the thing - there is a difference between movies that are “good” and movies that are “enjoyable”. Blood and Chocolate is not a “good” movie. The plot is formulaic as hell, the dialogue is laughably inept, and any actual potential it had to do something new and innovative with the werewolf genre was squandered. Seriously – one of the remarkable things about the book was how it centered a monster story on the monsters and made them sympathetic. The movie? Turns the monsters back into one-dimensional bad guys. But, hey, at least they made the transformations maaaaaaagical! That said, Blood and Chocolate is absolutely an “enjoyable” movie. I have watched this thing dozens of times since it came out, and each time I find something new to amuse me. The dialogue is hilarious, the special effects miss the mark so badly, and every time you find a new plot hole, an angel gets its wings. What’s more, it contains enough genuinely good elements to balance out the bad. It is a delightful example of low camp, and a worthy addition to any “so bad it’s good” film collection.

I’m not alone in that assessment, either. If you look at amateur reviews of the movie, you’ll find a lot of people defending it despite its flaws. It has an audience!

So, why didn’t it make more money?

Next Week: Section 4 – The Autopsy

#blood and chocolate #annette curtis klause #werewolves #katja von garnier #agnes bruckner #hugh dancy #olivier martinez #B&C-AAINO

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wildpawed · 3 years

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LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Sebastian Andrew Matthews EYE COLOUR: Dark brown ( can have a super lowkey golden aspect in certain lights ) HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Dark brown, kinda curly and often left a mess to do its own thing because he really doesn’t care about being aesthetically pleasing HEIGHT: 6′2″ CLOTHING STYLE: He’s not the type to really care about clothes aesthetically, but he’s big on practicality. He has so few clothes I could probably give it is own headcanon but his standard outfit is a white tank top, a buttoned flannel and jeans ( often covered in grease and oil from mechanic work ) with steel capped boots. If its not that, he’s wearing super loose trackpants, a hoodie with whatever large band shirt and a pair of converse lace ups. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: His eyes. Bird or not, he’s trained them to be able to pick up the most minor details when given the chance to really observe an object or person.

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

FEARS: Being killed / eaten by the competition in the wilds ( which is super valid considering how he lives ), being forgotten about and not making an impact on the world around him in relation to his studies, which have basically become his life’s work. GUILTY PLEASURE: He doesn’t believe in guilty pleasures, but he gets really into hunting. He never kills for sport because he understands that all creatures, whether they be predator or pray, play their parts in the ecosystem and with human interference already posing many threats, he doesn’t want to mess around with anything else. BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Being ignored, being interrupted and spoken on top of and people speaking on behalf of him. His whole life pre-curse was basically all of the above and he really can’t handle that and will get a little yelly if it means that people will actually listen to what he has to say. AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: To expand his knowledges on working on making that bridge between science and magic more clear, to be a good dad to his little ones despite the curse making all of the above increasingly difficult.

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS UPON WAKING UP: To hunt. His day starts an hour or so before sunrise and his brain is mostly animal fronted, but after pushing past that thought his brain goes to his wife and kids and he helps out with them before going off to do the Bird Things. WHAT HE THINKS ABOUT THE MOST: If it’s not his wife and kids and he’s not a bird, brain completely defaults to the sciences. He likes to be super stimulated and his thoughts often inspire experiments and hypothesis that he’ll eventually test out and I love that for him. WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: Bed thoughts are family time. He thinks about how lucky he is to have B and that she loves him despite how weird and awkward his life can be and he thinks about how he loves the little ones and while he’s just laying in bed with his wife is the most pure thing and its that real happiness for him. BEST QUALITY: His mind! Birdness aside, he has a perspective super different to everyone else and more often than not can help in situations by thinking of things that others probably wouldn’t.

LAYER FOUR : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Single. Having time with B is honestly one of the most important things to him in the entire world and he Does Not Handle people infringing on that at all. TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Both, he’d like to be loved as an individual by those he cares about and he would love to be respected as a scientist for the discoveries he’s made. DOGS OR CATS: Cats are a bigger threat to him ( can climb trees and generally be in high places like he can ) and dogs are noisy and require too much attention. When he was a teenager his family used two have three pets ( two dogs, one cat ) and he loved them, but now he’d rather much neither.

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU…

LIE: He’s often way too blunt to bother lying and beating around the bush and really would rather not, as he knows exactly how it feels to be lied to... but literally if its anything but keeping the supernatural as under wraps as possible, he really doesn’t lie and it would take one hell of a situation for him to even consider it. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF: Absolutely. He’s survived this long in the wilds without anything but himself and he knows for a fact that not many people could. BELIEVE IN LOVE: As someone who got very little love from his father as a child, its a weird question... but after a lot of WANT SOMEONE: He has someone and she is his everything!

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

BEEN ON STAGE: Not in the context of performing, but he used to have to be in front of people a lot when doing church things for his father. DONE DRUGS: Yep, but nothing too hardcore and alcohol ended up being his default for grieving when all that ish went down. CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN: Nope. Even if he wanted to, Vincent wouldn’t have let him, as that man is obsessed with image and he had expectations of his only son.

LAYER SEVEN : FAVOURITES

FAVOURITE COLOUR: He is big on earthy colours for his own clothing, but ( not to get all tumblr 2012 on you ) he loves the colour of the sky, especially on a nice warm day when flying is easiest. FAVOURITE ANIMAL: That’s kind of a weird question because what context are we talking? Like, honestly his brain leans towards what his favourite animal is to eat and if he were to answer that, he really likes squirrels ( eating them and also the challenge of the hunt ). FAVOURITE BOOK: He loves all science books honestly and is pretty much always found with one open with heaps of notes and little dogtails on important pages and stuff like that. FAVOURITE GAME: He’s not really a game person, but he loves sudoku, word finds, crosswords... and because he can’t enjoy things casually, he often times himself while doing them.

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

BIRTHDAY: 2 February AGE: 29 AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY: 24 DOES AGE MATTER: Yes. He doesn’t have a reason for this one. Its just a preference for there not to be a big age gap.

LAYER NINE : PREFERENCES IN ANOTHER PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY: Kind, compassionate, open minded, honest BEST EYE COLOUR: He really doesn’t care for aesthetic things, but he loves Blaez’s brown eyes and the way the sunlight hits them and how wide and bright they are when she’s smiling BEST HAIR COLOUR: Again, not an aesthetically based person at all but he loves B’s black hair and the red streaks that are so iconically hers and how they frame her face, bringing attention to her beautifulness. BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER: Nature walks ( both with he and B in human form or with him flying above and her running beneath him as a wolf ), learning about things B likes ( as she tries so hard to understand what makes him happy even though her brain struggles to dance with a lot of that stuff ), simple intimacies of little touches while watching watching something on TV or just being in each other’s presence. did he use this just to stan his wife endlessly? absolutely.

LAYER TEN : SENTIMENTS

HE LOVES: Nature, flying, his wife, his kids, sciences. HE FEELS: Apathetic to a lot of things, but cares really deeply about a lot of things, one needs needs to have the patiences of all the saints to try and get through his many, many Great Wall of Chinas to get through to him. HE HIDES: How much he cares about a lot of people around him, but his whole thing is self-sabotaging at this point, if we’re being really honest here. HE MISSES: His mother! Like, in general he misses her, but he misses her so much more because of the circumstances behind her death and all the trauma that’s related to losing her and... that’s a lot that he really hasn’t even completely processed and dealt with yet. HE WISHES: He kind of wishes he wasn’t cursed ( because it completely prevents him from having a mundane life ), but at the same time he absolutely refuses to go back to who he used to be because he sees his old self as something weak and completely unequipped to survive in the cruel ass world.

tagged by: stolen from @vorcotec tagging: @brothersgrim ( literally either bc this is A Lot and took me literally a few days bc i have the attention span of a toddler who’s had too much sugar ily ), @teardownheaven, @ofgrief, @asteriixa, @strxngernow, @crackedmxgic and literally anyone else who wants to !

#🌙 ; dash games

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cainfm · 4 years

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『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened.

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort.

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them.

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out.

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc.

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me.

#radintro #cult tw #heroin tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #trauma tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #manipulation tw #abuse tw #i think thts all ...

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southparkrpg · 4 years

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TAKEN CHARACTER: RED MARSHELL!!

Howdy, Dread! Welcome to SOUTHPARKRPG. Please find the accepted application for RED MARSHELL below:

OUT OF CHARACTER:

name/alias: dread

age: 19

pronouns: she/her

triggers: none

IN CHARACTER:

name: red marshell

age: june 16th, 2000 [19]

gender: cis female [she/her]

living situation: dormitory, but she visits home often

occupation: english major- honestly, red is only attending the community college for brownie points, and to be where almost everyone else (and, of course, for the parties). taking english as a major seemed like the easiest alternative to other degree programs. she is not currently employed, though is looking at possible work study opportunities.

sexuality: bisexual

PERSONALITY:

Confrontational / Hard-headed

Red isn’t afraid to speak her mind, even if it might damage her relationships or cause an argument. Sometimes, her confrontational streak is a good thing, is allows her to assert herself in certain situations, but on the flip side, it can also lead to her appearing cold or uncaring towards others. Fortunately, this is often offset by her ability to be compassionate as well- she truly does care about other people, she is simply blunt and refuses to mince words.

Insecure

Red is always the first person to admit that her confidence is shaky at best. Compared to her peers, she often feels untalented, even if she’s loathe to admit it. She places an extraordinary amount of her self-worth on what other’s think of her, which explains her tendency to party, and her social butterfly persona. The thing that makes her the most uncomfortable in the world is being alone, or feeling looked over, and these emotions can manifest in a variety of ways- most notably through anger, jealousy, or sadness, with the latter most being the most prominent.

Courageous / Reckless

Red is always the first one to jump to a challenge, willing to delve into potentially dangerous situations for the thrill. She gets bored if she cannot try new things, and often butts heads with people who are cowardly. While popularity is important to Red, at the same time she’s not unwilling to go outside the box and try something new, so long as she doesn’t think it’ll affect her social status. Her courageous can sometimes feed into recklessness and bad decision making, but as they say- bad choices make good stories.

Party Animal

Red loves to have a good time, and in college, even a shitty South Park community one, it’s a breeding ground for good times. She’s quick to organize parties on the weekend, quick to provide any recreational substances, and also -occasionally- quick to be the first one to pass out on the couch. To her, there’s nothing better than being around good friends with good food and drinks and listening to hit music blaring over the speakers (especially if it’s Justin Timberlake, but she’ll compromise). Her academics suffer because of her interest in partying and other recreational activities.

Music-Lover

Spotify Premium? Check. Apple Music? Check. Pandora Premium? Check. Even Youtube Red? Of course! It even has her name in it. Just about any service out there that offers a music subscription, Red has. More often than not she’s seen with headphones, and she collects records. Her music tends to be pop and contemporary, but she has a few playlists of the classics as well. It’s well known that her favorite singer is Justin Timberlake, for reasons more that just his music, but she’s broadened her horizons the older she got. Still, he remains a childhood favorite.

BIO:

Red graduated at about mid-tier of her class, not too low but not too high either. She was proud of herself regardless though, and so was her father, and that was all that really mattered. Graduation was a time of glory for everyone, and surprisingly, everyone made it. If you asked her in fourth grade if she thought she’d be graduating with all her then-current peers, her answer would’ve been a resounding no.

However, Red was comfortable in South Park. She was relatively popular, comfortable in her position, had many good friends- sure, there weren’t a whole lot of opportunities, but what did she want to do with her life anyway? The kind of pressure that filled her with made her anxious, and when the government regulations began to roll in and the school she applied to a few states away gave her a rejection letter, it was bittersweet. On one hand she was going to miss out on the possibilities awaiting her- a new town, a new image for herself, new friends even. Life had so much more to offer that wasn’t just South Park. But, at the same time, staying in her hometown was undeniably comfortable. Sure, there weren’t a lot of opportunities, but she had good friends and she knew everyone and didn’t have to fear social rejection or not fitting in somewhere else.

South Park Community College became heavily populated with her peers, which made the transition easy- and even though it was still in South Park, living on her own in the dormitories and becoming largely independent for the first time in her life was still exciting. And, of course, all the extra-curricular opportunities college had to offer she was quick to dip her toe into. She never much questioned the government cracking down on their town, weirder things have happened after all.

HEADCANONS:

can always be seen with headphones on, or around her neck if they’re the wired kind. but of course she has airpods

she loves to dance, and while has never taken formal lessons, she’s gotten quite good over the years. she doesn’t usually dance sober (in public anyway)

she also loves to sing, but she’s not very good at it

while she’s technically roman-catholic, she doesn’t go to church regularly, and doesn’t think much about religion

however, she’s very interested in the darker side of spirituality, and is fascinated with spirit boards, tarot cards, palm reading, and all matters of mysticism. unfortunately, a lot of people find this lame, so she keeps the hobby to herself

she runs an aesthetic / astrology twitter under an alias

she is infamous for skipping class, usually from sleeping in, or because she simply forgot and was busy elsewhere

#red marshell #sp red #south park rp #animated rp #south park roleplay #discord rp #taken

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philosopherking1887 · 5 years

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Kol Nidrei (a Good Omens fic)

I’m back on my bullshit. @iscariotsss knows what I mean.

Word count: 2130 (including “footnotes”)

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

Aziraphale liked going to houses of worship because it made him feel closer to God. He realized that this must seem foolish or paradoxical: he was, after all, a being suffused with God’s love and grace; and if he went through the right procedures, he could even (in theory) make direct contact with the Almighty. But calls to the Court of God’s Power through such channels—it had recently been made brutally, devastatingly clear to him—in fact went through a spokes-angel (no, not the wheeled kind), a mere mouthpiece who claimed to listen and speak on behalf of God. Speaking to God as an angel, using the capabilities and privileges his angelic nature afforded him, he had only ever reached a Glorified secretary.

Humans, though, when they prayed—it was possible that God truly listened. Angels listened, too, and sometimes took it upon themselves to answer; God was not in principle opposed to delegating, and angels were permitted a certain amount of latitude in how they executed the Divine Will, broadly understood. But sometimes miracles occurred, or moments of mystical inspiration, or improbable causal nudges, that could not be accounted for, even with all the Heavenly Bureaucracy’s scrupulous record-keeping. Then the angels had to wonder whether God Herself had heard and answered a prayer that Her agents had passed over. One of the Archangels would make a note by the observation of the anomalous event: “Divine intervention?” Always with a question mark, for God’s ways were known to none but God.

Aziraphale felt closer to God among humans praying than in the blessed Light of Heaven, or in his own grace-filled solitude, because he knew that their voices actually had a chance of being heard. Especially when they prayed in community, because although God did sometimes attend to solitary prayers (which might pierce through the noise because of the devoutness or holiness or strong personality of the pray-er), a group of people all speaking or meditating on the same message reinforce each other in a way that is not simply a matter of additive volume, but of resonance.

Because Aziraphale was at heart (and in body) an aesthete, he preferred places and modes of worship with a certain amount of pomp and ceremony. He could not abide the slick commercial atmosphere of ‘evangelical’ megachurches or the adaptation of modern popular musical styles to the purpose of worship; the mere presence of a guitar would send him out the door as quickly as consecrated ground did most demons. Nor was he much attracted to the simplest of gatherings, the mostly silent Quaker Circles, the unadorned meeting-houses that remained true to the Calvinist tradition (and, arguably, the original tradition of Christ and the first Apostles). No, he preferred the lushness of Catholic and Orthodox churches, their sparkling mosaics and glowing stained-glass masterpieces, the Masses and Liturgies composed by Europe’s greatest creative geniuses for sumptuous choirs and virtuosos playing thundering organs (Aziraphale found that of all artists, he had an especial rapport with organists). And if sometimes such fare was too rich even for him, he felt comfortably at home in the stolid, dignified (or as Crowley would say, stuffy and pompous) tradition of the Church of England. The Elgar and Britten anthems were not quite your Bach Mass or Verdi Requiem; but not even Aziraphale could eat lobster and venison every day.

So when the Jewish High Holidays came round and one felt compelled to put in an appearance (‘one’ referring not only to Heaven’s representatives on Earth, but to the Jewish worshipers as well), Aziraphale tended toward a certain style of Reform-to-Conservative congregation that favoured tastefully ornate architecture and a choir, accompanied by a piano or (in rare cases) an organ, singing nineteenth-century settings of the prayers and psalms much in the style of Mendelssohn,* or perhaps mid-twentieth-century arrangements taking inspiration from some combination of Rachmaninoff, Vaughan Williams, and dramatic film scores. Aziraphale was especially attached to the melancholy cello solo playing Bruch’s setting of the Kol Nidrei melody with which such congregations habitually began the Yom Kippur evening service.

On a mild, damp early autumn evening forty days after the world failed to end, Aziraphale went alone to the synagogue whose Kol Nidrei services he had been attending for the past twenty years or so (he was a creature of habit as much as, if not more than, a creature of love). He closed his eyes and let the cello’s plaintive voice set his chest to sweetly aching and was desperately grateful that he still had this—this salmon and crème fraîche omelette instead of the ‘eggs without salt’ of eternal celestial harmonies (stop thinking in food metaphors on a fast day!, he scolded himself, hurriedly directing his thoughts away from his stomach).

The cello’s final tremulous notes faded away and the cantor (who had classical operatic training; there was a reason Aziraphale preferred the services here) began singing the words of the Kol Nidrei. Aziraphale’s French or his Tibetan might sometimes grow rusty, but Hebrew and Aramaic always came back to him like riding a velocipede (or so they said; not that he would know).

“All vows,” the cantor sang (joined at musically appropriate points by the choir), “self-prohibitions, consecrations, bonds, promises, obligations, and oaths that we have vowed, sworn, consecrated, and taken as prohibitions upon ourselves from this Yom Kippur until the next—may it come to us for good—we regret and renounce them all; may they all be absolved, forgiven, cancelled, and rendered null and void; they shall have no force, and shall not endure. Let our vows not be vows, our prohibitions not be prohibitions, our oaths not be oaths.”

There was a widespread belief that the custom of making this declaration originated among the Iberian Jews who were forced to publicly convert to Christianity but who continued to practice their Judaism in secret—who insincerely forswore their faith in the sight of God and men, but wished to retract these false oaths in God’s sight alone. Among those who knew the text was older, the story was that it came out of an earlier time of persecution and conversions on pain of death. Aziraphale (who had witnessed the whole painful, arduous, improbable history of this people) knew that it came out of nothing of the sort: it was just that the Jews had an unfortunate habit, which caused their priests and rabbis no end of intestinal distress, of making solemn vows at the drop of a hat. There was even a significant commandment not to make vain oaths in the name of the Lord, but the habit persisted. So a formal ritual of renunciation was introduced in the hope that God could be persuaded not to take such utterances so terribly seriously. But it took on a darker, weightier significance in the face of the forced conversions that became a recurring theme in the history of the Jews. God’s Providence works in unexpected ways: a tradition that arose for one purpose might later prove even more essential for another.

When Aziraphale recited the formula with this congregation, it was always for the original reason for which it had been instituted. He, like the early Hebrews, had a shameful habit of making promises to God that he should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep. He promised he wouldn’t use frivolous miracles; he promised he wouldn’t eat and drink so lavishly; he promised he would be paying more attention next time, so that maybe he could stop or at least mitigate the next horror that the humans visited upon themselves—unless, of course, Michael or Gabriel told him it was part of the Divine Plan, in which case he would smile uncomfortably and wonder whether he should be praying that they were right or that they were wrong.

Above all, he promised to set aside his feelings for Crowley. He didn’t promise not to see him anymore—he had to keep an eye on Hell’s agent in his sector of the Earth, didn’t he?—but after every time they met, when he departed with a hollowness in his stomach that could not be filled by any amount of oysters or brioche, he promised that he would give no thought to the demon except in regard to thwarting him. He promised he would tell Crowley the Arrangement was over (of course, he never did… not until the second-to-last day of the world, when Crowley threatened to make him face up to what Heaven really was, and what they really were). He promised he would stay away, except to watch his counterpart’s movements, and perhaps to confront him directly if there was no other way of stopping his machinations. And he kept that promise for a whole century between 1862 and 1967—their encounter in 1941 had been entirely on Crowley’s initiative!—but during that century of separation, and especially after its unplanned interruption, he had been even more abysmal at keeping his promise not to think of Crowley in anything but his professional capacity.

Now Aziraphale was facing the first full year since the world had not been made anew, but somehow his world had; and he realized that he no longer needed to ask preemptive absolution for his usual vain promises to God. No one would be keeping track of Aziraphale’s “frivolous miracles,” much less sending him nasty letters about them. And though Aziraphale himself would never say it, he quite agreed with Crowley that Gabriel could shove his self-righteous comments about Aziraphale’s “gut” right up his tightly-clenched arse, along with that appalling tracksuit (he wasn’t entirely sure what Crowley had meant by calling him “basic,” but he gathered that it wasn’t good). Crowley liked him soft (he made a very good body-pillow, he was told), so Aziraphale liked himself that way, too.

As to preventing the horrors of human history… he wasn’t sure that he had any right to interfere, except by showing and encouraging kindness, where he could. As a Heavenly agent on Earth, he was retired, but he would remain a being of love until… well, until Heaven succeeded in destroying him, or God decided he deserved to Fall. But even then, he wasn’t sure: Crowley had Fallen (or “sauntered vaguely downwards,” as he liked to insist), but Aziraphale suspected that he was still a being of love, in spite of everything.

Most importantly, the primary impetus for Aziraphale’s empty vows, self-prohibitions, promises, and oaths no longer obtained. From this year on, there would be no vows not to think of Crowley, work with him, seek out his company. “For centuries I regretted and renounced those vows because I feared I couldn’t keep them,” Aziraphale said silently to God; he wasn’t sure whether or not he hoped She was actually listening. “Now I regret and renounce them because I should never have made them in the first place. I should never have wanted to be able to keep them.”

“Let our oaths not be oaths,” the choir was singing as the elaborate Romantic-style arrangement drew toward its dramatic close, the cantor’s voice rising in an impressive final cadenza. “Let our oaths not be oaths.”

“Ush’vuatana la sh’vuot,” Aziraphale whispered in time with the singers. All his foolish oaths had already been annulled,** most of them before he even made them; he could not now go back and retract them for the right reason. Well, he would probably come up with some new vain oaths, maybe about being less of a bastard to unwitting would-be customers in his bookshop.

There were some other vows he had it in mind to make where Crowley was concerned, but those would not be made only to God, and he had every intention of keeping them.

* “It sounds like bloody Gilbert and Sullivan,” Crowley had muttered to Aziraphale once when he had been invited to accompany him for a lark (the ground of synagogues did not burn his feet), and Aziraphale had had to bite the inside of his cheek to maintain his disapproving expression and stifle a laugh. “Listen, it’s the chorus of sisters, cousins, and aunts.”

** With the exception of those made during a year late in the eleventh century just before the change of tense instituted by Rabbi Meïr ben Shmuel, applying the renunciation to the year ahead rather than the year just past, had reached the synagogue in Paris where Aziraphale had been spending the Days of Awe for several years. Aziraphale panicked about it for a good six months, and indeed whenever he thought about it (with diminishing frequency) thereafter, not least because he and Crowley had first embarked on the Arrangement earlier that century and Aziraphale had spent decades regularly resolving to back out and never following through.

#i know yom kippur was 2 weeks ago #i've had stuff going on #it took me a while to finish this #my fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands fanfiction #ineffable husbands fanfic #ineffable husbands fic #aziraphale pov #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley

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lordeasriel · 5 years

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hdm’s world setting headcanons

i’ve been setting these up for my current fanfiction, because I needed some solid worldbuilding with just enough canon to make it look plausible. would these even configure as headcanons? or is it meta? is there even a difference? i’m too old for tumblr lol i can never tell.

The Magisterium in the World

Although powerful and influential, the Magisterium has a far tighter grip on Europe and Central Asia than it does on the rest of the world. Its violent nature makes it difficult for them to spread to different countries with different religious beliefs, because they do not go unchallenged, despite their ultimate propaganda. Despite it’s tyrannical and intolerant policy, they have nothing to gain from conquered a dead country, so it’s pointless to wage war when their best tool is subterfuge and shady schemes.

For decades they struggled to take over the Americas and the African continent due to their particularly traditional views on religion, often born in the roots of the indigineous natives of these countries, and considered highly herectical and blasphemous in the eyes of the Holy Church. They had taken over many countries in these regions before, when the Pope still existed, their influence subtle in the everyday life of the citizens, but when the papacy was abolished, and in its place came the collective known as Magisterium, the members of other religions saw an opportunity to rise amidst the chaos. Once the traditional religions of these regions became stronger, the Magisterium had to pick its fights more carefully.

In its intent to conquer these regions, they chose the Americas over Africa due to the size of the African continent, but also because its diversity in tribes, religion and civilization was far too much for the Magisterium’s grasp. And although they did had a presence in New Denmark and Texas, it was of minimal size and not nearly as scary and controlling as their presence was in Europe and Central Asia, but by the time Lord Asriel visited Jordan, things were changing drastically and not for the better, so his entire expedition to the North after that was well-timed, diverting the Magisterium’s gaze from these places so they could focus on their main problem in the North.

The Holy Church’s eurocentrism had its perks to those that, in another world, would end up colonised and converted by them. While they tightened their grasp around the edges of Central Asia up until Brytain, to the farther corners of the North, the rest of the world managed to salvage most of its original culture. The dialects spoken in South America alone were the result of years of an ideological battle against the Magisterium, nearly safe from its destructive intent. The African continent, still a bit more devastated than the Americas, maintained a great deal of its african languages and a hundred dialects, though the closer one gets to the borders with Europe, more one listens to English, French and Russian instead of Swahili, Yoruba and Arabic.

With its intimate relationship with the Muscovite Guard, the Magisterium’s presence makes French and Russian the official languages of almost the entire european continent. Although this is a rule for the collective influence of the group, they also make it mandatory for English to be known by their members, and depending on the group, they can also demand knowledge of yet another language.

Daemons Around the Globe

Speaking of religion, the Magisterium’s views on daemons were short-sighted and delusional, clouded mostly by their prejudice and intolerance, hence the taboo’s extremes conditions That means that in places where its chastising wasn’t as violent, their views were less strong and less followed than most people believed.

Despite this, touching another person’s daemon still is a matter that requires consent and different levels of relationship, depending on where you are and where you come from. In certain countries, such as in Texas, High Brasil or the Kingdom of Auster, due to the hot and humid weather, daemons and human were used to touching each other only when required, especially with daemons with fur, since it was disconcertengly unconfortable to constantly hug your daemon in a 40ºC summer day.

Also, because of the overpopulation, and the loose leash of the Magisterium in these places, it was common for daemons to accidentally bump into a leg or slightly brush themselves when hovering over crowded situations like these (unless, of course, the daemon was porcupine, but the cry would be of pain rather than disgust) and with a quick apology either from the daemon or the human to which they were part of (or both, you never know), all was settled.

Depending on the region, and according to the amount of influence the Church holds over them, some people had the tradition of accesorising their daemons. In certain places it was because of religion, in other it was purely aesthetic. It could be bracelets, rings or collars with pretty gems, permanent or removable tattoos in different colours of ink, in different shapes and places. Daemons with straighter fur or no fur at all were easier to be painted, and amphibious had a prefference for jewelry, since they often have delicate skin. All of these customisations, however its purpose, was never, ever made without the daemon’s consent.

Under the religious aspect of it, they would often paint tribals and symbols on the daemon and the human, if it was for a ritualistic aspect. In places such as High Brasil, Peru and the Kingdom of Auster, countries that retained a certain freedom but still fell prey to the christianism of the Holy Church, would imbbed these herectic behaviour to their christian rituals, such as Easter and Christmas, and even in weddings or baptisms. So every once in a while, when a religious date came closer, and they had service to attend, many people (including the priests, sometimes) would paint different designs on their faces and arms, and paint sacred symbols of old or recent indigenous religions on their daemons, if possible. This started as a way to mix different beliefs in families into one single ceremony, but ended up as a symbol of resistance as the Magisterium frowned upon the practice, then censored it altogether.

feel free to add anything to this!

#his dark materials #hdm #hdm meta #i also have another post on the women's figure on this world #and the colleges + oakley street's job #worldbuilding

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sealer-of-wenkamui · 5 years

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Continuing with the DLC! First, on the way to Ludwig, there was this person in a shell? That I still don’t understand...I finally got a SKL weapon though, the saif! But I’m sticking with my cane~ and all the corpses scattered around.... there were moving ones.... I really appreciate the one that drops 5 blood vials though, that came in handy for...

Ludwig! It took me over two hours last night, and a few tries today, but I finally won! It was a matter of learning how to fight him, and being persistent.... the charge attack was devastating at first, but I soon learned how to read it, and then I just tried dodging to the left and got hits when I could... second half was about dodging towards him and staying close, and not panicking trying to heal after getting hit. And realizing I need to get BEHIND him when he raises his sword (I didn’t know the first time and just moved away)

And I just have to talk about what a great boss this was in every way (despite my struggles)!! First of all, you’ve been reading about Ludwig in the game a bunch so far, in the sword hunter badge and weapon descriptions... the first church hunter, a legend of sorts, and then you walk in and find him a hideous beast, and start the fight against “Ludwig the Accursed”... only to get halfway in and trigger a cutscene! Where he draws his holy moonlight sword, no longer just a mindless beast! And his title changed to “Ludwig the Holy Blade”! And THAT MUSIC WOW!! The change in it halfway to something so grand! Listening to it afterwards, it really is one of the best tracks so far. And after the fight- you can talk with his head... and he seems like a good person, he really does... and he asks about the church hunters.... oh... I felt so bad, and he’s just a disembodied head.... no they aren’t really noble but... I gave him the happy lie, and let him sleep in peace.... ;A;

On my way to the next area, I found the weapon of a hunter lady that apparently just PUNCHED THE BEASTS. I can respect that. And I wish I could make out what one of the church hunters was saying at the altar..... it was hard to hear....

I used the eye pendant I found earlier to activate the elevator by putting it inside the skull (eyes on the inside?) and found the Research Hall... Oh I love this place, it appeals to a bunch of my favorite aesthetics, the church-like appearance! Stretching upward like a tower! As well as a place for research... oh and its horrifying! And its some of my favorite type of gore... Though everyone feels like a victim here, there’s some fucked up experiments going on... when I heard the name “healing church” I distrusted them immediately I mean come on churches are always evil in games but this place really makes the true horror of it all sink in.... this is going too far in pursuit of knowledge of the Great Ones....

I killed one of the patients that begged to be killed, I keep my killing of non-hostile NPCs to mercy killing after all... ah, and another wanted brain fluid, she’s surprisingly calm for being strapped down to a chair.... I found some high up, from two patients that had become nothing more than a head... the description was interesting... The Great Ones being associated with the sea, the markings of internal eyes in the brain fluid... and she hears water when I gave it to her, everyone seems to want to hear it...

(OH YEAH I accidentally started the Living Failures boss fight because I didn’t realize it would be right behind that door! I haven’t given them a proper try yet, but starting it seems to have changed some things in the area....)

It took a few reloads of the area for her to want more, but I gave her the second one, and she gave me a key, which she got from Lady Maria...

Lady Maria.... a lot of the patients here are calling out to her to save them, and Adaline thought I might be her at first when I walked in... she seemed to treasure the key she got from her as well, whose description is also interesting.... And now, the man I met earlier is telling me to kill her, and that she hides a secret... So I knew two things about her going into the game 1- she’s VERY attractive 2- she’s in a clock tower, but suddenly I have a lot of questions about who she is..... why are they all calling out to her... is she a good person like it seems, or is she in on all these horrors....? And what is her secret.....

Using the key, I got some things, and also discovered Laurence’s skull on the altar that had moved up... the description says he seeks it, and is a cleric beast... hMMM...HMMMMM... that boss that didn’t attack me early on... its him isn’t it, he even had the eye pendant.... the mysterious Laurence that summoned some “moon presence” presumably with “three third cords” and this somehow created the dream.... and I can go face him.... I guess at any time now? But I think I’ll do living failures and Maria first.....? Living failures tomorrow, hopefully they’ll go down in not too much time!

The DLC is REALLY GOOD so far, I already see what people mean by it being some of the best content in the game... I feel like I’m learning so much more about the world through it!

#bloodborne blogging #soRRY I WROTE SO MUCH #a horrified Augustine discovering that research hall #but maybe also a bit sickened by herself for her own fascination by it....hmhmh~

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sapphiretrams · 5 years

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Get to Know Me Tag

I was kind of tagged by @intricately-silly? Like, I have a notification that I was mentioned??? Idk, but thanks if you did!

Rules: Post a pic of your simself with your traits and answer the questions!

Traits: creative + good + music lover

1. What is your full name? Riley, and that’s all I’m gonna say

2. What is your nickname? I kinda gave myself the nickname RPS? You can also call me Trams cause of my url, I don’t mind.

3. When is your birthday? September 5

4. What is your favorite book series? Favorite book series... probably Harry Potter. I’m not obsessed with it (cause J.K. is kinda not a good person) but it’s one of the few series I remember reading.

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? Sure. I’m not a hardcore believer, and when I watch Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, I’m DEFINITELY a Shaniac, but I’m definitely not closed to the idea.

6. Who is your favorite author? Probably Charles Dickens or Shakespeare. I’m a sucker for that classic literature stuff.

7. What is your favorite radio station? Eh, I don’t really listen to the radio.

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? Lemon! It’s just SO good in all candy flavors, and I love it so much.

9. What word do you often use to describe something great or wonderful? Rad, awesome, cool, the usuals and occasionally terms that are super dated like tubular.

10. What is your favorite song currently? God that’s hard cause I love music so much... maybe Planetary (GO!) or Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) by MCR.

11. What is your favorite word? Petrichor

12. What is the last song you listened to? The Cage by Genesis

13. What TV show would you recommend everyone to watch? Forensic Files, it’s fascinating to me

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? I haven’t been one to watch movies when down so I don’t really have one

15. Do you play video games? Yep! I’ve been playing them a lot

16. What is your biggest fear? Being abandoned. It’s happened to me so often by friends that it’s just sort of become common place and I’m terrified of it.

17. What is your best quality in your opinion? My optimism!

18. What is your worst quality in your opinion? My inability to talk alshdafsdf I’m such a klutz at speaking

19. Do you like cats or dogs better? Dogs, though I do love cats.

20. What is your favorite season? Spring! Everything is turning green and flowering and it’s so refreshing to feel the rain on your face!

21. Are you in a relationship? Nope, I am tragically single

22. What is something you miss from your childhood? Having my parents read stories to me and my brothers, it was such a fun time in my childhood.

23. Who is your best friend? My friend Elli, a super cool nb person who’s been my friend for around 2 years now.

24. What is your eye color? Hazel

25. What is your hair color? Dark brown, though it’s been bleached and I would love to have green hair again.

26. Who is someone you love? Myself 💕

27. Who is someone you trust? My mom. She’s on my side no matter what, and she’s the first family member I told about my sexual and gender identity.

28. Who is someone you think about often? My ocs

29. Are you currently excited about something? Not really, I’m just kinda drifting atm

30. What is your biggest obsession? The Adventure Zone. It is SO. GOOD. I love the McElroys, and they mean a lot to me.

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child? The 1994 Spider-Man series. That SM has always been my favorite and he always will be.

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to? What’s a gender?

33. Are you superstitious? Sorta I guess

34. Do you have an unusual phobias? I HATE arteries and tendons. HATE HATE HATE them. They freak me out and I have to cover them up when I start getting freaked out by them. I’ve had this fear since I was a child.

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? Both baby!

36. What is your favorite hobby? Drawing!!!

37. What is the last book you read? Pieces of Happiness by Anne Ostby

38. What was the last movie you watched? Thor: Ragnorak

39. What musical instruments do you play? Violin, a little guitar, some piano?

40. What is your favorite animal? It’s hard for me to pick, but my favorite since I was a baby is a tiger.

41. What are your top five favorite Tumblr blogs? @viper-fish @berrybloomsims @lunacysims @mellindi @sim-borg

42. What super power do you wish you had? The power to refill stuff.

43. When and where do you feel most at peace? When I’m driving. There’s something about the freedom that just makes me feel so at peace, and I love feeling like I’m not restrained by anything.

44. What makes you smile? My dog. Everything about him just makes my heart swell

45. What sports do you play? I used to be a soccer champ when I was young.

46. What is your favorite drink? Diet Peach Snapple or Dr Pepper

47. When was the last time you wrote a handwritten letter or note to someone? When I was in like, 8th grade

48. Are you afraid of heights? Not really, though I was when I was younger.

49. What is your biggest pet peeve? I’m a very patient person, so probably when people talk to me when I wanna be left alone tbh.

50. Have you ever been to a concert? Yep. Maroon 5 was the last one. I hope to go to more too.

51. Are you vegetarian or vegan? Nah

52. When you were little what did you want to be when you grew up? A wild life veterinarian. I would throw my stuffed tiger down the stairs and “rescue” her.

53. What fictional world would you like to live in? The Adventure Zone: Balance world.

54. What is something you worry about? My dog since he’s getting up their in years, finding a college to go to and what I want to major in college, my bf’s safety, occasionally my parents when I’m paranoid and worried something might happen.

55. Are you scared of the dark? Nah. It’s nice. I’m more paranoid something might be in the dark, but,

56. Do you like to sing? Yes! I’m pretty decent at it, too, so I love it.

57. Have you ever skipped school? Yeah. I got really depressed when I was in high school and I stayed at home, calling in sick. Which I was, but it wasn’t entirely honest.

58. What is your favorite place on the planet? My desk, it has all my stuff on it and it’s cluttered to my liking.

59. Where would you like to live? Germany, or maybe France if I can learn the language. Maybe split the difference and move to Switzerland.

60. Do you have any pets? Just my baby boy TJ whom I adore.

61. Are you an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, though I’ve been making more of an effort to wake up early. I also get more done when I wake up early, cause it feels like I have more time to do things before noon.

62. Do you like sunrise or sunsets better? Sunsets, mostly cause I’m able to see them from my house.

63. Do you know how to drive? Yep!

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. I have headphones, but you can’t really wear them in public cause they get in the way.

65. Have you ever had braces? No, though I did have a chin strap when I was younger cause I had (and still have) an underbite.

66. What is your favorite genre of music? My music goes all over the place, but showtunes are my jam.

67. Who is your hero? 1994 Spider-Man. I specify because he’s really different from other versions, and he’s so smart and such a klutz and I grew up with him. I’ve been playing the new Spider-Man game for PS4 and I almost started crying from how close he is to MY SM, and he just reminds me of my morals.

68. Do you read comic books? Nah

69. What makes you the most angry? Politics atm. Don’t even talk to me about them. I don’t like being angry and any talk about the current political situation is just infuriating.

70. Do you prefer to read real books or on an electric device? Either, though real books hold a special aesthetic to them.

71. What is your favorite subject in school? English. Like I said, I’m a literary nerd.

72. Do you have any siblings? Two, an older and a younger brother.

73. What was the last thing you bought? Ariana Grande’s song No Tears Left to Cry

74. How tall are you? 5′ 7″, perfectly average

75. Can you cook? Eh, I can do the basic stuff, and if I have a recipe in front of me then sure, but otherwise? Don’t ask.

76. What are three things that you love? My dog, myself, my mom.

77. What are three things that you hate? Politics, White™ people, being expected to know things I was never told about (cough cough @ my boss)

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? Honestly, I have more nb friends than either

79. What is your sexual orientation? Pansexual

80. Where do you currently live? The Midwest

81. Who was the last person you texted? My mom

82. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday because I was laughing so goddamn hard

83. Who is your favorite youtuber? Game Grumps and you can fight me on that

84. Do you like to take selfies? Yep! I’m hot and I know it. I’ve hated myself for 5 years, I deserve to be infatuated with myself.

85. What is your favorite app? Monster Girl Creator. It’s so fun.

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? My mom and I are super close, but my dad and I... eh. It’s kinda damaged, though it’s better than it was when I was in high school. He doesn’t understand LGBT stuff or depression so he was just... awful.

87. What is your favorite foreign accent? Probably French, but the funniest to try and do is Russian. I suck at it and it turns into Italian after a while.

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to but want to visit? God I want to travel so bad. I’d love to go to Puerto Rico, France, Germany, Italy, Brazil, Vietnam... so many beautiful places.

89. What is your favorite number? Three

90. Can you juggle? Not for my life

91. Are you religious? I’ve kinda been burned out of religion cause my childhood church was really just... bad. I came out as bi to them when I was a sophomore and it caused a HUGE scene with the church. I was called ‘a slap to the face,’ people left the church, it was just bad. I’m spiritual, but not religious, though my life’s not over yet, so who knows.

92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? Space. Space space space. Do you know how badly I want to go to space? I almost became an engineer just so I could go to space.

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? I’m pretty tame, in all honesty, though I do some stupid shit every now and then.

94. Are you allergic to anything? Bullshit, any and every kind of body soap known to man kind, and pollen.

95. Can you curl your tongue? Yes! I can do the double fold think with your tongue where it looks like a scoop chip, you know what I mean?

96. Can you wiggle your ears? Nah

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? I come from a really stubborn household, though lately I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to be humble and just admit I’m wrong. It’s hard.

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? Forest. I’ve only been to the beach twice in my life so it’s not really my scene.

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? Do what makes you happy

100. Are you a good liar? I’ve gotten very good at it. I’m not proud of that fact, but I’ve gotten very very good at it.

101. What is your Hogwarts house? Slyterin. No, I’m not joking.

102. Do you talk to yourself? All the time.

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? I’m an introvert, though I think I’m more of an ambivert.

104. Do you keep a journal or a diary? Nah.

105. Do you believe in second chances? Yes, but you really can’t give them out really freely. You have to judge who you want to give them to.

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? Check for an ID and try to contact the person it belongs to. But if there’s no ID, probably give it to the nearest business or police station.

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? With most things. If they really wanted to.

108. Are you ticklish? Ye

109. Have you ever been on a plane? Yeah, but not many times. My first time on a plane was 4 years ago.

110. Do you have any piercings? Just the basic earlobe pierecings, but I really really want more.

111. What fictional character do you wish was real? Shiro from Voltron, aka my husband.

112. Do you have any tattoos? No but I want so many

113. What is the best decision that you have made so far? Learning to love myself. It took a lot of time, but I’m so happy I did it

114. Do you believe in karma? Not entirely, but I think there’s some truth to it.

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? I have bad eyes, so yeah, I wear glasses. I tried contacts, but they got irritating to put in after a while.

116. Do you want children? SO badly. I want a little girl so fucking bad

117. Who is the smartest person you know? My little brother. He wants to be a freaking accountant when he’s older.

118. What is your most embarrassing memory? I went to a museum one time, and they had a cool dinosaur tour or whatever, and I wanted to know what the dinosaur Parasaurolophus was called, but I forgot the name and only remebered like, Ducky from Land Before Time, and Phineas and Ferb had just started airing, so I asked the guy if a platypus was a dinosaur and that haunts me to this day

119. Have you ever pulled an all nighter? Yes. Don’t do it.

120. What color are most of your clothes? Blue cause it’s always looked good on me, but now any color looks good on me cause I know how to own it.

121. Do you like adventures? Yeah man! I love them!

122. Have you ever been on TV? Not that I know of

123. How old are you? 20

124. What is your favorite quote? “When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” -Griffin Mcelroy

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? Sweeeets!

I tag @viper-fish @berrybloomsims and @lunacysims

#rps speaks #tagged #nonsims

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hannahindie · 6 years

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We’re No Heroes: Chapter 10

Characters: Coulson, Reader, Sam, Dean, Bucky, Steve, Tony, the rest of the gang hanging out in the wings. Word Count: 2,177 Warnings: Language, little bit of angst, Dean being overly protective, Bucky dropping the mic, Coulson being a little bit naive, and the reader putting people in their place. A/N: Welcome to Chapter 10! Things are heating up at Avengers HQ and emotions are high. Crowley seems to have put a damper on things. This was a lot of fun to write, and even though we skipped a week, I hope the wait was worth it. I appreciate your patience, it has been crazy busy around here, and your girl is exhausted. But the story must go on!

Beta’d by @amanda-teaches, she has truly been the driving force behind this whole thing. Thanks, love! I appreciate it very much!

Aesthetic by @atc74, because she’s a sweet angel baby and is far too kind to me. Thanks, doll!

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

“You just... let him go?”

Y/N looks up from where her hands are fiddling with an empty straw wrapper. “I didn't have much of a choice.”

“You don't know Mr. Hogan that well, if at all. Why did you choose his life over the fate of Earth?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re telling me that if you were about to see someone slit their own throat, you’d be able to just sit idly by and watch? I’m sorry, but in those moments, it’s not really the fate of the world that’s on my mind, okay? I don’t give a shit if you know someone or not. Unbelievable.” She crosses her arms and sits back in her chair, eyes narrowed as she stares at Coulson.

“That’s not necessarily what I meant. We all make spur of the moment decisions-”

“We make spur of the moment decisions every single day. Every case we take, every move we make, determines whether someone lives or dies. Sometimes that includes us. So, don’t try to make me feel better by saying you don’t know what decision you’d make in the moment, because I do. And, I have to live with that every damn day. Never mind what Sam and Dean have been through. I chose Happy’s life over the fate of the world, because, for once, I had the choice.”

“I didn’t mean to offend, I realize a hunter’s life isn’t as black and white as what ours might be.”

“I’d reevaluate what your life looks like, because no one’s life is black and white. You’re naive if you think otherwise. Maybe stupid, but we’ll go with naive since it sounds less harsh.”

“I’m not sure that that’s entirely fair-”

“It’s absolutely fair, Special Agent Coulson,” she spits out his name and he flinches at the harshness of it. “You have your super soldiers and your aliens, and your super secret government agencies, and you act like you can just wrap it all up nice and neat in a little bow. It’s bullshit. Sometimes, the good guys are bad, and the bad guys are forced into it. Sometimes, the people that are supposed to save the world are the ones destroying it, and, sometimes, you have to become a monster to defeat them. You have no idea the evil in this world, the things that have to be sacrificed to keep the world safe. You think you’ve seen monsters,” she leans forward, her palms on the table as she moves to her feet, “but you’ve seen nothing compared to what hunters see every day. So, before you get all high and mighty and judge me for putting the needs of one ahead of the needs of the many, you fucking think about how often I’ve done that before and how much I’ve lost because of it.”

Coulson stares at her for a moment, sitting as far back in his chair as he can without obviously moving. He gives a nearly imperceptible shake of his head when one of the agents standing near the door steps forward, as if to push Y/N back into her seat. After a moment, he gestures to her to sit down. “I apologize if it seems I don’t appreciate the gravity of what you do. I absolutely do, and I can imagine the horrors that you’ve seen. Judging by your family’s extensive involvement with local authorities and the FBI, state police, Homeland Security,” he picks up a folder and flips it open, “the U.S. Fish and Wildlife service, the DMV in multiple states, the Catholic church, the National Park Service, the Food Safety Inspection Service, the USDA… the list goes on, you have all lived a colorful and storied past.”

“You could say that.”

“None of which is or was legal.”

She shrugs, “Depends on who you talk to.”

He laughs, shaking his head, “The priest and nun impersonations are, at best, misdemeanors. Never mind the rest of it. I don't think it depends on who you talk to.”

“We saved your life, didn't we? How many members of law enforcement do you think we’ve saved, protected their towns? It matters who you talk to.”

“We’re jumping ahead. You let Crowley go, what happened next?”

She sighs, folds her arms, and sits down. “The same thing that always happens when a Winchester does something that drastic without consulting with each other.”

“I thought you said you had this, Y/N!”

“I did have it! I didn’t really have a choice, Dean!”

“You didn’t…” he looks to Sam and gestures wildly at her, “she didn’t have a choice! We had him. Normal circumstances, better luck next time, but he’s supposedly in cahoots with some alien whose entire life goal is destroy as much as he can, and you just let him go because he was going to have someone’s throat slit?”

“Dean-”

“No, Sam, don’t come at me for being too hard on her. These aren’t decisions we make on our own. Because, see, when we make a choice, people can die. We don’t choose one person over the world.”

“Oh, that’s a bunch of bullshit! How many times have you two chosen each other over the fate of everyone else, huh? How many times have you started an apocalypse because you didn’t have the heart to stop each other? Or is it because I’m not really one of you? I might be part Winchester, but I didn’t grow up on the road with a daddy that treated me like a soldier, so I’m soft? I was the lucky one, still am, because I still have my mom.”

“That’s not what this is about-”

“The hell it’s not. I’m so sick of you two babying me, or acting like I don’t know what I’m doing. I grew up in the life, just like the two of you. Saving Happy was more than just saving him. You know as well as I do that if I didn’t do what Crowley said, he would have killed Happy, then come after me, and then there would have been God knows how many demons roaming this building. Hell, who knows how many are here now, and you’re wanting to take the time to lecture me?” She turns to walk out, pausing to look over her shoulder, “Maybe I should go home. You obviously don’t think I’m useful here, and Mom could probably use my help. We’re going to have something more in common sooner rather than later.” She leaves, the room quietly watching her as she turns the corner and disappears.

“That could have gone more smoothly, I think.”

“Shut up, Tony.”

“What did she mean about having something else in common?” Dean asks Sam, who shrugs.

“I don’t know, man.”

“It’s her mom.” The quiet voice surprises them both, and they turn to see Bucky leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he silently watches the scene.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her mom...she’s sick. Barely remembers her own name, most of the time. It’s getting worse.”

“How the hell do you know about any of that?”

“She told me.”

Dean’s fists clench at his sides and he takes a step towards Bucky, “Why would she tell you about any of that and not us?”

“I think this whole situation is a good example as to why. You need to listen more, not just assume she doesn’t know what she’s doing or that she always needs rescued.”

“You know what? Fuck you, RoboCop. You don’t know the first goddamn thing about our family or what we do.”

“That’s enough!” Both men turn to Sam, who’s shaking his head. “Dean, not that this is really the time, but I think he’s right.”

“Fine, I’ll go talk to her.” Dean turns to leave but Bucky stops him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, you don’t think it’s a good idea?” Dean chuckles, then looks back at Sam, “He doesn’t think it’s a good idea.” Before anyone can stop him, Dean punches Bucky in the face, catching the ex-assassin off guard and knocking him to the ground. Steve moves to go after Dean, but Tony puts his arm out and shakes his head. Bucky stands up with a groan, a hand to his jaw, but says nothing to the eldest Winchester.

“Dean, that’s enough. He’s right, it’s a bad idea. I’ll go talk to her, just...stay here. Try not to punch another super soldier, huh?”

“Whatever.” Sam gives his brother the look he reserves for the times he really means it, and Dean throws his hands up. “I promise, okay? We’ll try to come up with a way to stop our favorite leprechaun.”

Before Sam can walk away, Bucky stops him.

“Hey, this uh...this might help.” He reaches into his jacket for the poster he’d hidden there before and Sam looks at him, confused. “She’ll be able to explain it better than me.” Sam takes it and gives him a smile.

“Thanks...I think. I’ll be back, hopefully with Y/N.”

Bucky gives him a curt nod, then walks the opposite direction towards his room. Dean sits down and watches Sam disappear in the direction Y/N had gone, then looks at Tony.

“Well, Professor, you got any ideas?”

“Hey.”

Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Sam walking towards her, then looks back out the window, “Hey.”

“Listen, I'm sorry if we treat you like a kid.”

“Jumping straight to the point, are we?” Sam sighs but remains silent, and she turns to face him. “I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated.”

“I get it, Dean and I used to go in circles about the same kinds of things. God, the fights we used to get in.”

“Then why are you doing the same thing to me?”

Sam looks down at his hands before continuing, “Because I never knew how Dean felt before.” He looks back up, his brows furrowed, “I worry about Dean, always have, but, I never understood how he felt, being the older brother. It used to make me so angry, and then we met you...and I suddenly got it. Whatever I feel about Dean, double it for you. And multiply whatever I feel by five, and you've got Dean. We aren't doing it because we don't trust you, or think you don't know what you're doing. It's because we’re terrified of losing you.”

“There are better ways to show your love, you know, rather than make asses of yourselves.”

Sam chuckles, “Yea, but we wouldn't be Winchesters if we weren't being asses.” He holds out the rolled up poster, and Y/N gently takes it from him, “Bucky told me to give this to you, said you'd be able to explain it better than he could.”

She slips it out of the tube and carefully unfurls it, holding it out to Sam so he can see it.

“Is that...is that Dad and your mom?”

“Yea...Nadine had it. She gave it to me.”

Sam smiles down at the photo, “They look happy.”

“They do.” Y/N stares at the picture, and both of them are silent for a moment. “It wasn't Dad’s choice.”

“What?”

“Not staying with us. He wanted to. I heard them arguing one night, he wanted to bring you to live with us. My mom loved Dad, but she was just too nervous. Winchesters don't really have the best of luck, and she didn't want to put me in the crosshairs. He wanted us all together.”

“She probably had the right idea.” He hands the picture and tube back to her. “What's going on with your mom?”

“How did you know?”

“Bucky mentioned it.” She frowns and Sam holds up a hand. “Don't be mad at him. He's just worried about you.”

“She's got Alzheimer's. It's gotten worse, and she didn't want me to watch.” She sniffs, quickly wiping a tear away. “I feel like a terrible person...because I'm relieved she doesn't want me to see. I ran the first chance I got. And now this.”

“Listen, your mom knows it would be hard on you, and, honestly, it's hard on someone, knowing their loved one is watching them waste away. Despite the circumstances, I'm glad we’re all together.”

She hugs him. “Thanks, Sam. I'm glad, too.” She closes her eyes as his arms wrap around her, and, for a moment, she basks in what it must feel like to have a normal family. “Together…” she mumbles as she pulls away.

“Huh?”

“We’re trying to do this separately. Clearly, us working with Crowley isn't going to work. But, we have the Avengers, and we know where the gate is.”

“Yea…”

“We need to quit working against ourselves and with each other. We need to take the fight to them, so I say we’re going to need to go to plan B.”

“I didn't think we had a plan B.”

“We do now. Come on, we need to talk to everyone. We’re going to Central Park.”

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? Check out my master list HERE.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mogaruke @speakinvain @linki-locks11 @wildlandfox @rhochradel @lostnliterature @eternal-elir @spn-ficfanatic @polina-93 @lexiiiii28 @poukothenerd @emoryhemsworth @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @adoptdontshoppets @closetspngirl

Dean Only: @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @lavieenlex @highonpastries @wholelottajackles @imascio08

Sam Only: @bunnybaby121115

We’re No Heroes: @xalgaliareptx @primenumberscanbeintimidating @aubreystilinski @impandagrl @ludo4 @nikkilaf @babyimp67 @smi727 @lexiiiii28 @rideandwritethings @trunk-full-of-ideas @a-sad-excuse-of-everything @hetaliameow @gingermimi1975 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @contemplatin @tinyvelociraptor2319 @paintballkid711 @smandrews3 @waitwhatsrealityagain @adoptdontshoppets @marvelskitten-999 @frostingsfics @bookworm104 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @kararanae23 @dreamwhisper87 @hooked-onfandoms @sleepymessxc @multifandom-slytherin @stay-wokke @strawberry-ella @uwu-sebastianstan @encounterthepast @ellaprime68 @mypage-myfandoms

#supernatural fanfiction #avengers #supernatural x avengers cross over #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader insert #phil coulson #tony stark #bucky barnes

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andrewrosswatson1987 · 5 years

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REVISIT: OZZY OSBOURNE MADE ENTRIES INTO THE DIARY OF A MADMAN THIS DAY IN 1981

Ozzy Osbourne released sophomore album, Diary Of A Madman, which came out today (November 7) in 1981, released via label, Jet Records. Prior to this had been the almost universally loved Blizzard Of Ozz the year before, his solo debut after being dumped by Black Sabbath in 1979. They matched that effort in just over a year but unfortunately it would be Ozzy’s last with guitarist, Randy Rhoads, who died in a tragic plane crash in 1982. It was also the last album with bassist, Bob Daisley; and drummer, Lee Kerslake, together as a unit in the rhythm section. First they were replaced by Rudy Sarzo and Tommy Aldridge respectively as the touring band, not even credited for their work recording the album. Sarzo quotes Aldridge in the former’s book, Off The Rails: Aboard The Crazy Train In The Blizzard Of Ozz (2008), when the two saw the record for the first time: “…we’ll probably have to spend the rest of our lives explaining why our picture’s on the record but Bob and Lee played on it.” Tommy said as he walked away, clearly displeased. Then, come the 2002 remasters, their parts were rerecorded by Robert Trujillo and Mike Bordin, respectively. This lead to a lot of legal wrangling, though Daisley remained a constant throughout Ozzy’s ensuing solo career. Add to that the fact that touring the album was absolute torture. The aforementioned book recounts Sharon Arden speaking to Rhoads about Ozzy’s institutionalisation for psychiatric evaluation at Saint John’s Wood Clinic, London: “Oh, Randy, when the doctor released him they flat out told me, ‘Madame, Mr. Osbourne’s certifiable. There’s nothing we can do for him.’” Only a matter of pages later, after Rhoads’ death: …I went for a walk and came upon a church down the street from the motel. I walked in and noticed that the place was empty except for one lonely soul on his knees praying near the altar. I too wanted to be alone so I kept my distance as I knelt down at a pew near the entrance and prayed. As I closed my eyes and wept, I could hear him sobbing uncontrollably. Even in my darkest hour I couldn’t help but feel compassion towards someone who seemed to be in more agony than myself. Suddenly, he let out a bone-chilling moan that reverberated throughout the church. “Why! Why!?” He cried. I raised my head and looked over at him. It was Ozzy. Diary Of A Madman, title latterly apt, has sold over three million copies worldwide. This and Ozzy marrying Sharon in 1982 helped alleviate this pain of failed first marriage to Thelma Riley and Rhoads’ death. Singles for this album were “Flying High Again” and “Over The Mountain”. It’s panoramic at first with “Over The Mountain”. The drum roll heralds the menacing riff. It chugs machine gun style with lyrics, “I heard them tell me that this land of dreams was now/I told them I had ridden shooting stars, and said I’d show them how”. Then comes the middle section, quite sedate with the lines, “Don't need no astrology/It's inside of you and me/You don't need a ticket to fly with me; I'm free, yeah”. Things ramp up for a both foreboding and beautiful solo. The lead work truly ground breaking. “Flying High Again” has a kind of sneaky, slightly sleazy riff that appeals immensely. Then comes, “Because you can't see what my eyes see/And you can’t be inside of me” offers a more emotional, candid and intense Ozzy. Not before, “Mamma’s gonna worry; I’ve been a bad, bad boy”. A real swagger. “You Can’t Kill Rock And Roll” is tinged with sadness, maybe even regret. “How many times can they fill me with lies and I listen, again/Twisting the truth and they’re playing around with my head, okay/The things they will do and the things they will say but they don’t really understand/Tears fill my eyes when I hear all the cries for the reason today”. It swells before another verse, Ozzy profoundly nonplussed with people outright lying, “Mirrors reflecting their stories untrue/Promises, promises; telling me all of my glories overdue?” A question indignant. The middle section gets gritty and confrontational before a whirlwind of emotion. Faith seems to fail in “Believer”. This opens with a dirty bassline, the guitar histrionics perfectly suiting the hellish atmosphere that’s already taken hold. “You’ve gotta believe in yourself, or no one will believe in you” invokes the listener to strike out on their own. The middle section offers intrigue and desolation, it would seem. “Little Dolls” hammers in with drums; pounding, grooving bass and a guitar with a cocksure walk to it. Midway comes wonderment and time for thought: “…you’ve been a fool, the little doll is you” like personal revelation. Wavy intermittent guitar is set against high octane bass before the main groove of the song returns. Romantic “Tonight” is resplendent with melodic, profound high register bass. “Now I'm back out on the street, again; it never rains unless it pours/Try to get back on my feet, again; I hear the raging thunder as it roars”. The chorus, with emphatic piano chord, proclaims, “Tonight, tonight; is it just a rhapsody/Or am I right?/Tonight, tonight; is it all a mystery?/I just can’t fight no more”. A key change searches for meaning before that anchoring yet intricate bass takes hold, again. The guitar solo is chaotic but with passionate precision. “S.A.T.O.” rings ominously. Slow at first then headfirst into almost galloping metal. Cacophony of clattering guitar, drum and bass. Excellent musicianship surrounding the Ozz. Then the guitar cuts in for some scratching triumph. The guitar growls like a wildcat, attempt at domestication before letting it off the leash. Title track and monumental closer, “Diary Of A Madman”, starts as if delicate and tragic with a classic sort of bent. This builds and builds, like acoustic to electric. The pained vocals align with lines like, “Screaming at the window, watch me die another day/Hopeless situation, endless price I have to pay”. Then the chorus. Wow. Such power and yet torturous at the same time. “Entries of confusion; dear diary, here I am to stay” references the whole bent of the album. Regimented drum roll heightens the drama, like searching for the heavens and a better life before being cast down into flames. “A sickened mind and spirit, the mirror tells me lies/Could I mistake myself for someone who lives behind my eyes?/Will he escape my soul, or will he live in me?/Is he trying to get out, or trying to enter me?” sees Ozz question his own sanity. Strings grow tense by the second, building and building before on a knife edge. There’s a certain triumph to it, but before rising from those ashes there’s a lot of pain beyond comprehension to hail down upon you. Ozzy Osbourne weathered the storms of Blizzard Of Ozz, adjusting to life after Sabbath. He had a brilliant team behind him with the late hotshot and virtuoso guitarist, said Randy Rhoads; plus bassist, lyricist, songwriter and co-producer in Daisley. Without them and drummer, Kerslake, Ozzy could’ve fallen flat. Highlights are “Over The Mountain”, “Flying High Again”, “You Can’t Kill Rock And Roll”, “Tonight”, “S.A.T.O.” and “Diary Of A Madman”. This starts and ends with three classics. Perfect symmetry for those with an eye for the track list aesthetic. Six out of eight, what more could you possibly ask for? Ozzy Osbourne’s Diary Of A Madman can be bought on iTunes, here.

#Black Sabbath #Ozzy Osbourne #Blizzard Of Ozz #Diary Of A Madman #Randy Rhoads #Bob Daisley #Lee Kerslake #Rudy Sarzo #Tommy Aldridge #Robert Trujillo #Mike Bordin #Don Arden #Sharon Arden #Sharon Osbourne #Thelma Riley

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moonlights-inkwell · 6 years

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There’s Something Tragic About You.

Summary: You find out that Jason’s dead, and slowly but surely learn to cope before a mugging brings a new vigilante to light in your eyes.

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 3,018

[part 1] [part 3]

So... I admit I got a little carried away with this. This chapter wound up longer and a hell of a lot angstier than I originally intended but oh well?

Title is from Hozier’s From Eden.

You find out that he's dead at the same time everyone else in your class does when the principal comes in to English class to share the awful news. You hate to admit it to yourself, but as soon as he walks in you know he's there to talk about Jason, but never in a thousand years had you thought that he was going to say that Jason was dead. According to him, Jason had died when a bomb had gone off in the hotel where he had been staying; some freak terror attack. Seemed to come out of nowhere, there was nothing that could have been done, he says in a voice authoritative enough to make you angry but filled with enough condolence for you to wasn't to sob. While everyone else whispers about terrorism and why Jason was all the way in Ethiopia; your head bows, hair falling around your face as you allow the tears to fall. He's gone. No matter how many whispers about him and how weird it was that he was dead would bring him back, no matter how many comments about terrorism, about bombs. He's dead. Jason, your Jason, brilliant Jason. Dead. The only thought that comes to you beyond your comprehension of his death is that whatever deity lives up above you must have a sick sense of humour, as your tear-filled eyes stare down at your copy of The Great Gatsby. Of course. Two dead Jays. The rest of the day is a blur of incomprehensible colours and sounds, while you're caught in a head space somewhere between dazed and haunted. The kids who had once bullied you instead give you a wide berth, even they seem to grasp that right now isn't the right time. No one speaks to you all day, and just the concept of being in the cafeteria makes you want to puke. Eating is a task that seems impossible and besides, there's no one there you want to sit with. Instead, you timidly walk to Jason's locker, unlock it, and stare blankly at the locker, making a mental note of the contents. Your eyes glide across an old red jacket that you hadn't seen in months. You recall making a comment about the jacket and how much you liked it, and in a moment of sudden desperation you grab it and pull it on, revelling in the feeling of being surrounded by something that had once been Jason's. [E/C] Eyes slide across a copy of pride and prejudice, and your fingers gently pick it up before closing the locker quickly. You know theft is wrong, and under normal circumstances you wouldn't have done such a thing, but you can't lose everything of him. You need something to remember him by, and it might be sick, but you need it to cope.

The funeral is unbearable, sitting beside your parents on a hard pew in an icy church in front of the coffin that held the boy who said he'd come home was hell, like a nightmare come true. Before Jason, the only person who you had ever known who had died was your grandmother, and the bracelet she had given you had been passed onto Jason, and like a curse it had taken Jason from you too. You had spent days trying to convince yourself that it was only a fear toxin induced hallucination, that Scarecrow had dropped some sort of bomb of gas over the city, leaving you to deal with the contents of your own mind, but no. Jason is dead. Gone forever, and you're stuck here without him. Your parents hadn't known Jason as anything more than 'that boy who comes over sometimes', but they sit silent besides you, and you're grateful for that. You're sure they don't know what to say beyond useless words of apology, but they're there and that means more than you could ever explain. Other than your family and a few of the teachers who had liked Jason, there is only one person there you even recognise, Bruce Wayne. You'd never said much more than a few words to Bruce while Jason was alive, only his butler who had taken a shine to you, but from the look of utter sadness that Mister Pennyworth had given you onto your way into the church you didn't doubt that Bruce and his butler had felt something like you did. It felt strange to think of Batman as a creature who could mourn, but orphaned Bruce Wayne's son being murdered? That was something you could never comprehend if you lived a hundred lifetimes. There's a boy who looks barely older than 18 or so, surrounded by other people that age, dressed in black with his eyes bloodshot. He looks almost strikingly like an older Jason and you almost call out before it occurs to you after a few seconds that he's Dick Grayson, Bruce's first ward. Jason had once confessed to feeling in the shadow of him, both as a Robin and as Bruce's son, and yet here he is crying for him. You don't approach either after the service or at the grave side. What could you possibly say to them that wouldn't sound trite or all too familiar? What do you say to people who already lost their families and just lost another member of the one they had tried to create for themselves? It feels strange as you stare down at his headstone, fifteen-year-old boys shouldn't be dead and buried. Jason shouldn't be.

The sound of the alarm makes your eyes slip open, arm reaches out almost automatically to grab your phone and turn it off, bones cracking while you roll onto your back and check the screen for any new messages. Eyes squinting from the sudden bright light in the otherwise dimly lit room, you sigh softly and rake your fingers through your hair, a text from your mum hoping that you're safe and happy. You let out a quiet groan before shuffling to your feet, making a mental note for yourself to call her when you're more awake while padding into the kitchen as you crack your back, then turn on the radio as you begin to wake up at the sound of other voices. You curse at the sound of the news, almost sure that you had left it on the music station last night. The news, especially in Gotham was never good; there was a reason you don't read the Gazette (other than the fact that it's a rag). Fingers enclose around a box of cereal as the radio anchor talks about a crime scene in a warehouse near the docks, pouring the brightly coloured pebbles into a bowl while she talks about a duffel bag filled with decapitated heads. Somewhere in your sleep dazed mind reminds you that you should be disgusted by the waste of life, but the rest of you reminds you that this is Gotham. If you weren't willing to be surrounded with murder and crime you should have moved to Metropolis or Coast City for college, but you were still here, and you wonder if that says more about you than the city that you're willing to stay there. Your mum had wanted you to either go to a new city for college or live at home with her, but while you couldn't bring yourself to leave Gotham the prospect of living with your parents sounds hellish. You sit on the counter, eating tiredly as you half listen to an interview with Commissioner Gordon caught somewhere between too hungry to stop eating and too tired to get up and turn it off. Mumbling bitterly under your breath about how Gordon and his cops aren't going to do shit and how they never do shit, because they just leave all the hard work for Batman and each new Robin, you force yourself off the counter and off to get a shower and get dressed for work. The walk to work is short, but Gotham is cold enough even in spring for you to feel uncomfortable during the walk. It's freezing, a hard blow of the wind making your coat billow around your thighs, and the only positive you can think of is that it isn't raining but as if someone above had been listening, a small droplet of water hits the tip of your nose, and then your forehead. Fuck. Of course. You let out a quiet groan and begin jogging, weaving in and out of other pedestrians and then cars as you bolt across the road. There's always a strange sort of discomfort that comes from living in Gotham, probably a result of it's wet and cold environment and the fact that it's close enough to an Asylum for its inmates to break out and live amongst you before attacking, but today's discomfort comes from something different than the usual. You turn your head to try to gage just what it is exactly as it hits you, it feels like being watched. Turning your head back to see what's in front of you, you try to ignore the feeling before turning on your heel to see if you can work out whether that feeling is right, but Gotham streets are so packed you could be stalked all the way from your apartment and have no clue. That thought makes your stomach drop quickly and because of that you can't help but feel relieved at the sight of the familiar red neon lettering on top of the diner. Pauli's has hardly changed since you were in high school, still old looking and homely, with the red and white checked metal tables and peeling vinyl on the seats of the booths, spacious and claustrophobic in a way that makes you sad, but every single time you enter it's with a smile and today is no exception. The fifties aesthetic was one that you understood the appeal of without ever really being into under usual circumstances, but Pauli's was different for you, with the hand-drawn posters and bright colours. Hooking your jacket up on your usual peg by the door, you let yourself smile at one of the other waitresses (an older woman who had taken you happily and willingly under her wing after remembering you coming in near daily during your school days) and tie your apron around your waist. Working in Pauli's while you're in college had seemed almost obvious, like something destined to be: maybe it was a subconscious thing where you felt the need to come back to atone for the date that never happened, or just to return to something familiar in a city that looks more and more alien to you with every other day. The old diner meant more to you than you would have confessed; with its familiar slightly greasy smell and its regular customers and it helps on the long shifts after classes, when people who you see almost daily smile up at you while you fill up their coffee or take their orders, asking to make sure that you're okay. Gotham might have spent a lifetime making you harder than you would have been anywhere else; but the people, hardened in the same ways that you were, had done a pretty good job of reminding you that normal, everyday people were still good... and sometimes, after looking up at the flicking TV over the counter while it showed reports of costumed criminals, you need reminding. You often find your eyes glancing to your old booth, and then to the old black and white tiles around it, when shifts get slow in between intermittent glances to the clock on the wall surrounded by bright red neon letters, COFFEE. You pick up a pot of coffee, and turn around, noticing when a cop lifts a hand to indicate that he either needed a refill or wanted to order, you clench your jaw before sighing and forcing a smile and then walk over. When you finally leave work the rain has stopped but the cold has increased fourfold as if to compensate for it, and your candy-coloured uniform barely does anything to keep you warm even with your jacket. It's almost unbearable, even with your hands shoved into your pockets, and that overwhelming feeling of someone watching you is back full throttle. The bright orange fluorescent lights overhead mean that at least you know that the way home isn't entirely dark, but it feels more like a clinical sort of light, the orange not the same warm colour as the street lights in other cities instead seeming cold. Gotham in daylight is like walking through any big city, but at night the city became something more... something darker. A labyrinth of winding streets, all smog filled and cold, with monsters hiding around every corner. All at once you're struck with an understanding why your mother always said that you shouldn't be out in the city after dark. You try to swallow that insecurity and slip down into an alley, your usual shortcut home, and finally start to relax at the familiarity. It's short-lived. Walking slowing, you hear more than one set of footsteps coming from behind you and you begin cursing under your breath, and before you can even begin to speed up you feel the sharp chill of a blade against your neck. "Give us all you got." The man hisses into your ear, breath hot and predatory against your skin and you can't even begin to disguise the cringe that overcomes you. You know that you should be terrified but all that you can think is that his breath is gross. Two more men walk around the two of you, and leer down at you as your hand slides into the pocket of your coat, but then scowl as you reveal the contents to them; a coffee-shop loyalty card, a dollar fifty in change and four hair ties. You're a poor college student; you don't know why anyone would choose to mug you, there's nothing that you could possibly give to them that they would want. No watch, no jewellery, no phone, no wallet to hand over. You almost smile at the fact that you forgot your phone until it dawns on you that you have no way of calling for help and not getting your throat slashed for the attempt. Shit. Eyes flitting around the alley way, you try to make out if there is a way for you to escape, but to no avail as one of the two men surges closer to make sure that you weren't holding out on them. His hand scrabbles around in the empty pocket before grabbing at your thigh through the thin fabric, causing you to let out a loud yelp of anger while his face leans in closer to yours. Your mouth opens for you to tell him to get his hand off you but all that comes out is a loud scream as a bullet flies through the side of his head, sending a mess of blood and liquefied brain splattering onto the dirty ground. The man who had been holding onto you suddenly throws you to the ground beside the body, your hand barely missing the blood, as he and his one remaining accomplice run off. The orange light from the streetlight makes the blood look almost black, like some sort of tar that was making its way closer and closer to you with every second. You shuffle backwards quickly, slicing your hand open in the scrabble to get away from the gore, only to slam against something warm and hard. Legs, you realise as you turn your head. Leaning over you is a man, tall and broad, clad in leather and a helmet that glints crimson even with the darkness and streetlights. The smell of gunpowder radiates from him; from the still smoking gun at his side. "You always get the attention of dangerous pricks?" The voice that comes from the helmeted man is heavily modulated, sounding more like the sort of robots that you'd find in a Sci-fi B-movie crossed over with static and buzzing and it would be almost funny if it wasn't for the gun clenched in his hand and the fact he had just murdered someone in front of you. You assumed the modulation was there for a reason similar to the reason why Batman deepened his voice on patrol, being a Vigilante in Gotham was dangerous enough: but one who had no problem with killing? That meant that more than one type of person would be looking for him and a voice works as a means of finding a person. But hell, in Gotham it could just mean that the man in front of you actually was some sort of cyborg; like Arnie in Terminator, or like RoboCop. You stare up at him from your place on the floor, silent and scared witless, eyes flitting from the lifeless mask and the gun. "...Well?" "...No?" You ask rather than state while getting to your feet, holding your injured hand awkwardly before shoving it into your pocket."...You just killed-" "Put down." Was the mechanical response, as if talking about a rabid animal rather than a human being (albeit a scummy one), and that makes you step back quickly. "...You're welcome [Y/N]." Blinking rapidly, a droplet of rain hits your jaw, then another on your shoulder, then the top of your head, before the downpour begins once more. Within seconds, your hair is plastered to your forehead, and you let out a shaking sigh. You turn on heel from the helmeted man then run home as fast as your legs can carry you. It's only once you're home-with every door and window locked, sat on your couch in an old t-shirt and sweat pants while drying your hair with a towel, that you're suddenly struck with a question as you place a bandaid onto the palm of your hand.

How did he know your name?

@hyp-oh-critical

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood #red hood x you #batfam x reader

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