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#and when i say i had a breakdown; i think it's important to note that when a trans person goes through some mentally challenging times
akystaracer22 · 14 hours
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Free the Bird from its Gilded Cage
Synopsis: Lucifer would tell anyone who asked his greatest regret was letting humanity eat the apple. Better than admitting what he really regretted.
Notes
Golly gee good thing affairs didn’t exist back then huh!
In which Lucifer’s tism hurts his best friend, the fic.
I think I can tag this as Edenpoly considering the conversation between Lucifer and Lilith.
I give my greatest thanks to my good friend Hat who uttered the phrase “I raise a glass to the friend you could have been and drink to the monster you became” (Or something of the sort) which has not left my brain 2 years later.
No shade on other people’s depictions of the ancient archangels. I love good archangels as much as you guys but… this is very much bashing.
I’m so sorry Michael. And Azrael, and every single angel who’s characters I butcher in this AU. It’s not you guys I swear.
God on the other hand fuck you I’m not sorry.
I have been told by many people irl that I have religious trauma. I didn’t think I did but fuck it we ball.
I am so sorry this came out late but I had two assignments and I'm moving houses, I'll try not to have a repeat.
Word count: 1957
Fic under cut!
Lucifer felt Lilith before he saw her, the first woman’s aura screaming frustration and hurt louder than the tears in her eyes.
She was sitting under an aspen tree with her legs tucked to her chest.
Lucifer didn’t need to guess why she was upset; it could really only be one thing these days.
“Adam did something again, didn’t he.”
Lilith huffed and lifted her head to meet Lucifer’s gaze, “We fought, again. He still doesn’t get it.”
Lucifer sighed and sat down next to the first woman, not for the first time the little voice in his head bemoaned Adams chronic inability to listen to anyone other than God. It was really starting to cause problems in Eden.
“He’ll regret it.”
“He always does, but he still does it.”
Lucifer nodded, “He needs to learn that God isn’t right about everything,” His siblings would murder him if they knew he was spreading this kind of blasphemy, “But I do agree, it’s a little irritating.”
“It is!” Lucifer jerked as Lilith stood up abruptly and began to pace, “He’s great most of the time don’t get me wrong, but he’s just increasingly growing more and more insufferable! It’s like every time he gets better he just goes straight back to being worse!”
“Truly the trials and tribulations of the first humans.”
“I just wish he would listen to me! Not some stuck up self-important know it all who thinks I’m worthless.”
Lucifer wisely held back the instinctive defence of the Creator, “Especially when you are so much more than that.”
Lilith seemed to finally run out of steam, falling back into Lucifer’s arms and holding him tightly, “I hate this… I hate him.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t… I hate the man God wants him to be.”
“I hate that man too,” Lucifer admitted, “I hate how he hurts everyone.”
Because it wasn’t just Lilith that was left hurting. Lucifer hated how he was losing track of the near silent breakdowns of Adam’s.
God created humanity different from the grand design, and every day Lucifer loathed that fact more and more.
“He’s going to win, that man.”
“Neither of us will let him.”
“He’ll let himself,” Lilith hissed right by his ear, the sound sending a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, by the choirs that felt good “Adams an idiot.”
“Yep!” Call Lucifer blasphemous, but he was so tempted to-
Lilith opened her mouth to say something, and Lucifer listened to the little voice in his head once again.
He caught her mouth with his own swiftly before pulling back, face flushing as he realised what he just did.
That was something only Adam and Lilith was supposed to do with each other.
Lilith blinked, taking time to process before giving her response, “Do that again.”
Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice.
The bark of the aspen tree was lit up by Lucifer’s wings as he pressed his lips to Lilith’s again.
And again.
And again.
Lucifer had never felt so good. He could see why Lilith and Adam like doing this. This felt so good.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
It was hours until Lucifer disentangled himself from Lilith, still not having quite recovered from the experience. Sadly, he could feel the mental tug attached to his halo signifying his siblings wanting an audience with him. The last thing he wanted was to have them come down and see him with Lilith.
The moment he returned to heaven however, he had the distinct feeling that he might have messed up regardless.
Michael was pacing and muttering angrily under his breath, sharp sounds grating Lucifer’s awareness. When the archangel saw Lucifer, his wings physically bristled as he lunged forward and grabbed the Morningstar by the robe.
“You are so very fortunate that God was already growing tired of Lilith’s rebellion!”
“What?”
“Michael,” Lucifer turned to see Azrael landing nearby, “I highly doubt Lucifer knows what he has done, as impulsive as he is.”
“What? What happened,” Lucifer demanded, mantling his wings to make himself look larger as he stared down the other archangels.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what!”
“God decided to give the first man a new wife,” Michaels words cut through Lucifer’s anger and left only shock, “Made from his rib.”
“… what?”
“Yes, I had to tear it out myself,” Michael huffed, Lucifer noticed the dried red still dusting the angels gloves, “Adam tried to flee.”
“…”
“What Michael means,” Azreal shot the other a look, “Is that Adam didn’t take the information well, and saw it fit to attempt avoiding the situation entirely.”
“He was awake?!” Lucifer screeched “By the choir what is wrong with you two?!”
“It was the Creator’s wishes, none of us knew it would bring pain,” Azrael sighed, “However, it would encourage not repeating the situation…”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Michael scoffed, “The Creator ensured Adam wouldn’t remember.”
“It would taint him.”
“It would motivate him.”
“What?”
“Our Creator has decided to take a more… hands on approach in ensuring the situation does not repeat itself,” Azrael looked uncomfortable, “Xe employed the use of divine power to keep Adam and Eve from straying from the grand design.”
Lucifer took a step back.
Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer couldn’t hear over the roar of nothing in his ears.
No.
Nononononono.
Lucifer ran.
He broke into a sprint before diving back down to Earth, landing on the soft grass of Eden he looked around desperately.
“Adam!”
“Yes?”
Lucifer turned around as Adam’s figure came into view from behind a tree, “Adam-”
His eyes were gold.
Lucifer stumbled back as he took in the first man’s appearance, Adam’s eyes were no longer the colour of earth. The familiar dark brown orbs that bore the gold of honey and of leaves in the sun were gone. In their place was the brilliant gold of divinity, of heaven, the same gold of the-
The chain attached to his wrist.
Lucifer lunged forward and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him forward and running a hand along the softly glowing cuff on Adams wrist.
It was definitely the Creator’s doing.
“Adam what have they done to you.”
“Ah, apologies, but have we met before?”
Lucifer’s golden ichor froze as he looked back up to meet that accursed golden gaze, “What?”
“It is just that… you seem familiar with me, but I do not recall ever having met you. I apologize.”
Lucifer stepped back from the first man, “What.”
“Were you present for my creation? That day was such a blur I hardly recall all those present.”
“Adam- Adam look at me,” Lucifer grabbed Adam by the shoulder, staring desperately into those too gold, too inhuman, too holy eyes “Adam. You are my best friend. You remember me don’t you?”
Adam’s eyes flickered for a moment, that familiar beautiful earth brown peeking through for a moment before being swamped by heavenly gold.
“You are an angel; how could I ever be friends with someone of a higher status such as you?”
Lucifer wanted to cry.
The Creator truly was cruel.
“Are you alright, sir?”
Lucifer couldn’t do this.
Lucifer shoved Adam away and ran like a coward, stumbling through the bushes and past trees as he ran away from the puppet wearing his best friends face.
He didn’t even talk like Adam.
The Creator just stripped his best friend of everything that made him… him.
Lucifer collapsed under a willow tree as he sobbed into his arms.
He didn’t move for a long time after that.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
Lilith found him in the dim of night, her eyes sharp and he teeth bared in a rueful grimace even as she took him into his arms.
“We’re not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”
A hot flame of righteous anger sparked in Lucifer’s heart as he held onto Lilith. She was right, this crossed a line.
Lucifer wanted to rush in, to steal Adam away and find a way to break that chain.
Lilith told him to wait, to watch and observe as she would.
“Right now, heaven does not know about our rebellion, if we move too quickly we will both be destroyed.”
She was right, of course she was. Lucifer hated it though.
They had to watch Adam go through the motions of what his life used to be. The way he would no longer wander the garden without reason.
He wouldn’t play with the animals anymore or sit and relax under the sun.
Lucifer almost broke the trunk of a tree when he saw Adam tear out a plant Gabriel considered ‘too imperfect for the garden’ even though Lucifer knew that it was Adams favourite flower.
That flame of anger grew every time that damned shackle glowed and chained Adams will.
It took a little time to figure out, but if there was one thing Lucifer was sure would free Adam and Eve, it was the apples of knowledge.
They had to.
Lucifer and Lilith also watched Eve through everything. She seemed meek through the control of the Creator, but in the few moments the attention of heaven faded and the gold in her eyes let a little bit of reddish brown through, they got to know her.
She was gentle and sweet to the animals but there was a steel in her spine.
She was vibrant and wild as she chased the cheetah’s around the garden or buried her head in a grizzly bears side.
Lucifer grew to love her in a way. As little of her as he could see. But she was the one the Creator paid less attention to, and why would xe? She is supposed to be subservient to Adam.
Lucifer shifted into the form of a snake and curled through the branches of the tree of knowledge as she came into view.
Showtime.
“Eve my dear, may I borrow your attention for but a moment?” Lucifer sing-songed, drawing the girls eye as she stopped at the base of the tree.
“What is it you require of me, snake?” Eve asked, Lucifer watched intently as the telltale hint of red brown filtered into her gaze, this was the shot he needed.
“The fruit of this tree, could you tell me how it tastes to you?”
The woman flinched back as if struck, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at her response.
“I couldn’t, God said-”
“And have you not wondered why xe demands such things of you? Have you not questioned why xe forbade this?” Lucifer hissed, snapping off an apple and letting it fall to the ground at Eve’s feet, “I know, and that is why I ask this of you.”
Eve’s will fought with Heaven for a moment as she picked up the apple, but she was not gone yet, “God said that if I ate the fruit, I would die.”
“And the Creator lies to you,” blasphemy dripped off of Lucifers tongue as he all but snarled at Eve, the white-hot flame of fury envenoming his words, “To eat the apple is not to die, but to be freed. To have your eyes opened to the truth around you.”
Eve held the apple in her hands, the reddish brown in her eyes traitorously present.
“How do you know I won’t die?”
“Because my dear, I have had my eyes opened long ago. To open them is a freedom the Creator keeps from you on purpose,” Lucifer hissed, “You will not die, of that I can promise.”
Eve bit into the apple, and the chains snapped under the weight of knowledge granted.
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azrielbrainrot · 29 days
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 3
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, Memory loss, mentions of death
Word Count: 5950
Notes: Sorry for the wait but I had to map things out to answer all the questions I started in the previous chapters (set myself up there) and lack of motivation was kicking my ass. Still, I hope you enjoy!
Part 2 ○ Part 4
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You were picking at the food on your plate as Azriel stared at you, looking like he'd rather feed you himself. As hungry as you were, everything was hard to stomach. You tried to tell him as much but had only been met with a scolding, he seemed extremely interested in your health. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was content with watching you even if you never actually gave him anything. It seemed like the spymaster wasn't too preoccupied with the fact that he had caught you stealing from his High Lord.
Following your sudden breakdown, Azriel had managed to calm you down enough, insisting that you didn't talk about anything else until you ate and were ready for it. Your eyes still hurt and were probably puffy from the tears that had flowed not even an hour ago, and your head still ached, even if it didn't come anywhere close to the excruciating pain you felt before.
The same feeling as before still crawled under your skin, the same questions swirling around in your mind, but you managed to find your composure after the ache had transformed into something manageable and the tears had dried. Admittedly, you were a bit scared of prying into your mind and triggering the same reaction as before - it really had felt like your brain was trying to forcefully escape your skull.
You were still trying to make sense of everything, denying that you were missing important information wouldn't help you. There was no way Azriel was confusing you for someone else, not with the way your body reacted to him and the dreams you've had for far longer than you've been here. There was also the problem of you being a prisoner in this room, as nice and attentive as your prison guard has been there has to be a punishment waiting for you.
When your head felt like it was going to burst, you could swear someone else had barged into the room but you couldn't stay focused on it or hear what they were saying through your own desperate screams. You think you saw something red glinting, but didn't even make out anyone's form, your vision was too blurry. You're not even sure how many of them walked through the door. By the time you came to and calmed down it was only you and Azriel in the room again, and all you could feel was his arms around you, grounding you.
You bite down on another small piece of sausage, arranged as if they were meant to feed a child - you hadn't seen him cut them but you know it has to be his work - as you remembered how desperate he sounded in that moment. You're not sure if the soothing words he whispered in your ear were meant for you or for himself, he was just short of begging you to be okay. It was a little embarrassing to think about how fragile he had seen you in that moment but it was even worse remembering how intimately he held you.
Looking up at Azriel, you're not surprised to meet his eyes, they haven't left you for longer than a second, it's like he's scared you'll disappear if he looks away. You can still see the concern swirling in the beautiful hazel.
You had so many questions, knew he had even more, but you weren't sure where to even begin. Any hope of him starting to talk was evaporating faster with every second. He had told you he wouldn't bring anything up until you were ready but you thought he'd at least ask about the robbery, start off easy. You couldn't push your doubts aside any longer, it felt like you were both playing a part, ignoring the elephant in the room.
“Azriel?” His name triggers the same reaction every time you say it. You might have to go to a healer if you survive this, having your heart fluttering so often can't be healthy.
“Yes?” He leans closer letting his wings pull in closer to his body, ready to give you his undivided attention.
You've noticed how his wings move with him and can give you small clues on what he might be feeling sometimes, like a cat's ears, perking up or dropping with his emotions. The same happens with his shadows really, moving towards you when they're interested, like a tail you suppose.
“There's something wrong.” His eyes open wide and he's on his feet before you can even blink, standing over you and reaching out for your hand. That might not have been the best way to start.
“What's wrong?” He holds onto your wrist, feeling for your pulse. “Does it hurt again?”
“No, nothing hurts,” you try to calm him down, cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean this.” You gesture between the two of you, hoping he's aware of the terrified expression on his face. “You're worried about me.” He visibly relaxes at that, understanding you're not physically hurting again.
“Of course, I am.” He sits on the side of the bed, never letting go of your wrist but holding onto it a little softer, drawing circles with his thumb over your skin. You're not even sure if he's doing it on purpose, or if it simply comes naturally.
“Why would you be?” You have an idea of the answer, he's already made it more than clear that he knows you very well. “I thought you'd be guarding me to make sure I didn't escape but you've been taking care of me instead.”
His eyes roam over your desperate face, taking notice of every expression you make. He's probably scared of saying something that will send you into the same state as before, clawing at your head to stop, but you can see how much he wants to tell you, to stop pretending.
“You're my wife,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips right after, like saying the word is enough to make him happy, and looks down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, running his thumb down the veins to the palm of your hand, loosely holding it instead.
“I don't…” You thought there had to be some sort of romantic relationship between you and him, or the person he thinks you are, but you didn't expect him to say wife. “I've never been married.” You never even thought it would be a possibility with your job.
Him thinking you're his wife definitely answers a lot of questions, mostly the reason why you aren't in a dark dungeon after what you've done to them, but it just opens up a whole other box of chaos.
You set the plate aside, knowing you can't keep any more food down with the way the conversation has to go. You wish you could just crawl into your own bed, in your own home and wait until all of this mess passes. Running a hand down your face, you steel yourself, recognizing you need to get to the bottom of this, not only for your sake but his as well. Whatever was at play here was larger than you could have imagined.
“I don't remember you at all, Azriel,” you admit. He just nods, almost pouting, without looking away from your hand still clutched in his. “But I've dreamt about you.” He perks up at that, surprised eyes darting up to meet yours.
“I dream about you almost every night,” he admits softly, a reddish tint covering the tips of his ears.
“If I'm supposed to be your wife, should I be offended that it's not every night?” The lame joke does nothing to ease your nerves, as you intended, but the blinding smile he rewards you with certainly makes the next words easier to come out.
“What you called me before… that's not my name,” you continue slowly, “My name is Maya.”
“Maya,” he tries it out but the discomfort is obvious on his face. To your surprise, you don't like how it sounds coming from him either, while every other word he utters sounds like honey.
“I know that's my name. I know I'ver never been here or met you before,” you explain, “I know I never married you either. I can account for every year of my life, there are no gaps in my memories. You're not in any of them, neither is this house,” you look into his eyes the whole time, squeezing his hand slightly, wanting him to feel your sincerity, “but there's something wrong.”
He studies your face with an unreadable expression. If this whole situation is hard for you to wrap your head around, you can't imagine what it is like looking in from the outside. The only reason you believed him was because of your body's response to him, but all he can see is a female who looks just like his wife yet doesn't recognize him.
His hand leaves yours as he takes the ring he was wearing off slowly, taking your hand and depositing it on your palm gently.
“What's this?” It's a simple silver ring, worn out from what you assume is years of training and fighting while wearing it. Your heart palpitations come back the longer you study it, you know it.
“My wedding ring,” he almost whispers, “You had yours when…” You look up at him and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, “I don't have it.”
You nod and let it fall on your finger, in place of where your own wedding ring would be. It's too big on you, it would likely be too loose even if you had put it on your thumb, but you almost don't want to take it off. Goosebumps spread all over your body, your heart rate picking up.
“Do you feel anything?”
“I'm not sure I can explain it,” you breathe, not fully understanding the reaction your body has to him.
“Try me,” he insisted.
“Ever since I heard about this mission and stepped foot into this city, it feels like my brain is screaming at me to remember something really important but I can't,” you say, watching the way the wedding band hangs around your finger, “and when I put this ring on just now.” You hold up your hand for him to see, the light catching on it.
You look up at him before continuing, “When I first saw you. When you told me your name. When I… When I stabbed you.” Your eyes travel to his stomach, where an open wound had been just a few hours ago. “I feel a pain in my chest.” It makes itself known again as you think of the way his blood had dripped down your hands. “Holding the ring feels right. Saying your name feels right. But hurting you… didn't.” You take a deep breath in, knowing there's no going back, “So, as insane as this whole situation is, I think I believe you, Azriel.”
The admission lingers in the air as both of you feel its weight. Acknowledging the particular situation you've found yourselves in is only the beginning. Now you must try to understand what happened and how to fix things, if you want that. Part of recognizing what Azriel told you as the truth comes with accepting that some of your life was a lie, and, at this moment, you have no tangible evidence for what is real or not aside from the goosebumps you get when the male in front of you touches you. You don't even know who you truly are.
“If you say I'm your wife then what made me leave?”
“You didn't,” the hesitation is almost tangible in his tone, “I thought you were dead.” Your hand immediately shoots up to your neck, feeling the softened scar under your fingertips. The movement seems to break the dam holding his emotions in check, making everything flow out at once.
“I don't know what happened,” he lets go of you and stands up, running a hand through his hair and pacing around as he explained with an anguished voice, “It was a simple mission. We never found out how exactly but it looked like you were taken by surprise and attacked by bandits. My shadows told me they couldn't sense you so I went to meet you but when I got there all I saw was blood. There was so much blood.”
When he meets your eyes again you can clearly see the tears gathering in them, the pain that still lingers from recalling that moment.
“I looked for you. We all did. We searched in every corner of the world, I sent spies everywhere. We found the bandits and made them talk but when they left your body was still there and your throat was cut.” His wings droop, the bottoms of it touching the floor. Azriel looks defeated. “We thought you were dead. I tried denying it for a while but it came to a point where I couldn't anymore. But now you're here and I- Fuck. I should have kept looking. I shouldn't have given up so easily.”
“Azriel,” you call for him, bringing his attention back to you. The desperation and raw pain in his voice were breaking your heart. “Whatever happened wasn't your fault.”
“I should have found you,” he whispers, completely contrasting with his tone mere moments before.
“You thought I was dead.” The words are hard to form, and you can't linger on them too long. You always knew the injury you suffered was severe, that it had been near miraculous that you survived but finding out there were people out there that truly believed you were dead was chilling. “This whole situation still feels impossible, there's no way you could have known I was still alive.”
He nods at you, but you can clearly see he can't let go of it. The attentiveness and overprotection he's been showing you makes much more sense now. Azriel sits on the chair he has barely left since you were brought to this room. He seems to try to regain his composure, combing back the hair he had tousled and bringing his wings up closer to his body again. But his eyes don't meet yours like before.
You fall back against the headboard, the impact softened by the pillows he fluffled out for you, picking at his wedding ring still on your finger. You feel like you're going insane. Maybe letting the guild find you wouldn't be so bad, at least they'd put you out of your misery. Though it's hard to ignore the fact that they seem to be the ones who put you in this situation, letting you live a lie for almost a century.
“It's been a century since then,” you repeated aloud, “And you still…” Love me? You wanted to say, but that wasn't really you, not for now at least. You don't remember anything of your time together, or about yourself. Maybe the only thing that survived was your body. There's a possibility that the female he loved had actually died, that he'll never fully get her back even if you regain your memories.
“I told you,” the smile you witnessed earlier comes back to his face, even if with only half the prior intensity, “I dream about you almost every night.”
“This doesn't make any sense.” You had moved to sit cross legged over the covers, tired of laying in bed when your body wasn't even hurting. Nibbling on a chocolate cookie the House, who Azriel told you is sort of sentient, gave you.
“I know.” He had calmed down since his outburst, going back to what you assume is closer to his usual demeanor, though he might not always act the same as when his dead wife is sitting across from him. His shadows seemed to have relaxed as well, most of them had left him in favor of swirling around the room like smoke. “When I saw you in the living room, I thought you came back.”
“But I came to rob you instead.”
He lets out a chuckle, “I couldn't have imagined that in my wildest dreams.” His gaze turns a bit more serious before he adds, “my High Lord and High Lady want to speak to you.”
“I figured as much.” You were actually surprised they hadn't shown up yet, the sun was already close to setting. “Did you tell them you think I'm your wife?”
“They know. You and Rhys were friends too.”
The thought that you could be friends with a High Lord is almost laughable, but so was being married to his shadowsinger and yet the fluttering of your heart every time he speaks to you in that deep, soft voice of his doesn't lie.
You think for a bit, remembering the information you had been granted before coming on your mission. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful one in history and the bearer of one of the most sought-after and frightening abilities - daemati. It's said his mate, the recently turned fae, Feyre Archeron, shares the same talent.
“Is it true that he's a daemati?” He simply nods, knowing you're following his train of thought.
“You want him to look into my head.”
“He might be able to find out what happened to you,” he nods, “the reason you forgot me, forgot us.”
“And you're sure he'll want to help me after what I did? He looked pretty mad when I saw him last night,” you say as you chew on your lip.
Granting him passage into your mind might be more than a leap of faith. You've found it easy to talk to Azriel, to trust him, but you haven't met anyone else, and can't trust they won't want to hurt you. Azriel seemed to not care much about your initial reason for coming to the court or even what you did to him but you can't expect everyone to feel the same, even if they had been your friends a century ago. And a daemati could break you beyond repair, even just seeing their abilities in action has always left you unsettled.
“Rhys won't hurt you,” he tells you, his face showing he has no doubts about his words.
“It's not like I have much of a choice anyway,” you brush the crumbs off your nightgown, stretching your legs and moving until you are sitting at the edge of the mattress. It brought you closer to him, your knees brushing his, the feeling of the leather feeling oh so familiar against your bare skin, making your next words come out breathier than you wanted them to, “You can call them.”
Something flashes across his tantalizing eyes when he looks down at your bare legs, noting the change in your tone, but it disappears when he looks back at you, nodding softly and letting his eyelids shut as if to level himself. Some of his shadows come back to him and, as his silence prolongs, you realize he must be speaking to them in his mind, calling his High Lord just as you asked.
The pressure in the room changes as soon as he opens his eyes, the air getting harder to breathe. It's not as strong as what you'd felt the night before but the tamed magic is enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and a shiver to run down your spine. You truly hope Azriel is right about them.
Azriel stands just as the door opens to reveal his High Lord followed closely by his mate. His unreadable purple eyes study your stiff form, walking inside the room and letting Feyre close the door behind them. She seems more serene, not showing any obvious hostility towards you but you know not to underestimate the human who freed the fae of Prythian.
You stand when they stop in front of you, not letting fear make you appear weak. If they chose to hold you accountable for your actions you would accept their punishment head on.
The first word out of the High Lord's lips is the same name Azriel had called you before, and the same feeling of deja vu consumes you once more.
“Maya,” you correct. His head tilts to the side briefly, before looking over at Azriel who is watching the scene unfold warily.
“Well Maya,” his eyes meet yours again, “Are you going to explain why I've found you lurking around my house?” The venom was clear in his voice, but you expected as much.
“I was sent here on a mission,” you say as emotionlessly as you can, just like the guild taught you, “I was supposed to find an ancient book with a particular set of runes, it seems it belonged to your grandfather.” You hope the lack of information doesn't make you appear suspicious because it truly is the only thing the guild had deemed enough for you to be able to complete your mission. “Since I failed the mission, they've probably already sent assassins after me, in case I tell you or anyone about them.”
“No one is going to hurt you,” Azriel promises, anger rising at the mention of someone wanting to kill you.
“You were in the wrong place for that,” the High Lord responds after a moment, and watching Azriel's reaction. “The book is in the library under this House.”
“It doesn't matter now.”
“You're right, it doesn't. What I want to know is where you've been all these years and why you attacked my brother.”
The pressure in the room increased again but you could now see it was the result of him trying to hold his power down even though his temper was rising.
“Rhys,” his mate warns, but it falls on deaf ears, his striking eyes never leaving yours.
“I don't remember you or him,” you admit.
“So he's told me.” Rhysand didn't sound too convinced. “You won't mind if I check for myself right?” He barely made it sound like a question but you nod in answer all the same.
Black talons scrape along your mental walls as soon as you give him permission, you lower them for him, pushing everything the guild taught you aside, inviting the enemy straight into your mind. If they could see you now you would definitely be mocked and executed on the spot.
His presence is barely felt in your mind before a sharp pain takes your senses, similar to the one you'd felt before. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands moving to hold your head. Scarred hands are on you immediately, holding you up against a strong body before your knees meet the ground. As the talons retreat from your mind, the pressure lessens and you take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes.
When you manage to blink away the wetness making your vision blurry, you find the High Lord looking at you with wide eyes, remorse clear on his face and his mate holding onto his arm.
“What did you do to her?” Azriel's voice was rough with barely restrained anger.
The High Lord ignores him, looking into your eyes as he explains with a notably softer tone than earlier, “There is something blocking your memories. When I tried to bypass it… It hurt you.”
“What does that mean?” Your voice was scratchy, a dull ache lingering in your head. You lean away from Azriel and sit back on the mattress. No use trying to act tough, you're truly at their mercy.
“It means I can't access your memories for the time being,” the change in his demeanor would give you whiplash if the pain you were feeling gave way long enough for you to focus on anything else, “I've never seen anything like this, there's no way of knowing what it can do to you.”
“I think your memories aren't only being blocked,” he's still speaking directly at you but you can't really wrap your mind around anything at the moment, letting them discuss amongst themselves. “They're being overwritten at the same time.”
“That's why she forgot Azriel but remembers her life at the guild?”
“I've never heard of anything like that,” Azriel's voice sounds further away, you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you.
“Me neither,” the High Lord admits, watching your crouched form warily. “We'll have to ask Amren and research it in the library but it's the only explanation.” You find yourself nodding, even if you don't know Amren you understand the ancient creature might be able to help, if she wants to that is.
“At least your mental walls are still intact. They're the same ones I taught you to build.”
“No, I learned at the guild,” you finally look up at him, sweat still covering your forehead.
“There's still an open channel, like an open door for me to be able to talk to you.” So I can do this. You can't help but jump slightly at the sound of his voice in your mind, and the promise of a smile twitches on his lips. It doesn't go unnoticed that the talons moved a lot more carefully in your mind, almost tenderly.
“You're staying in this house until we can be sure you're not a threat.” His eyes move to Azriel's, an unimpressed look taking over his face at the scowl the shadowsinger sends him. “In the meantime you can fill Azriel in on everything you can about the guild. I want to know if there's a chance they'll try to attack us again.”
“We'll try to find any information on what is blocking your memories and keep you safe from the guild in exchange,” the High Lady adds, “It's a fair trade for both parties.”
You can't tell if she's saying it to convince you or her mate but appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Also noticing how she omits the biggest reason for this mutual cooperation - the shadowsinger standing by your side.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
His hair was still wet when he started dressing himself, not wanting to leave you waiting for too long, as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't too happy about leaving you with Feyre either. He can tell everyone is still suspicious of you, even after Rhys tried to read into her memories to find nothing, stuck between their memories and stories they heard about you and the image of you stabbing a knife through his stomach.
Azriel knows his High Lady, his friend, wouldn't hurt you, but you're in a complicated situation at the moment and he doesn't want to find out what that guild has taught you to do in cases such as these, doesn't even want to think what Feyre would do to stop you. She didn't know you before, meaning she wouldn't have any reason to hold back if not for his sake - something he knows she wouldn't put above saving Velaris, he would never ask that of her either.
It's hard to accept he doesn't know how you'll react in certain situations, there was a time he knew you better than he knew himself. Now, he can't even begin to understand what you must have been through working for a world known assassin guild.
He'd obviously heard about them before, he wouldn't be a decent Spymaster if he hadn't. There wasn't much information on them, no one knew how large the group even was since there were rumors other groups were actually integrated in the guild. Names for it vary as well.
Even if you hadn't tried to steal from his High Lord, he knows he'll have to try getting as much information about them from you as he can, for his court's sake, and he can only pray you'll give it to him willingly or he'll have to let go of his position.
He doesn't know how you've been able to bear the guilt a job like this brings. As much as you've forgotten, your personality didn't seem to change a lot. You always reminded him of Cassian at times like these, gratuitous killing had never been for you. He hopes you don't have to deal with the torment he had been through in the first decades of working for the former High Lord, his soul had never recovered from everything he'd seen and done during that time.
Noticing his shadows reach up his shoulders, he physically shakes the dark thoughts out of his brain. Everything has been going better than expected, not only did you agree to cooperate but Rhys had given you the benefit of the doubt. You also agreed to have dinner with him so you could talk more.
He just told you he'd be joining you for dinner, omitting how excited, downright giddy, he felt at just the idea. It had been so long since you two shared a meal, talking for hours while enjoying the tasty food the House prepared for you.
He couldn't recall the last time he'd been this nervous for an outing, even if it wasn't exactly that - it was simply a trip to one of the House of Wind's guest rooms. Going as far as picking clothes in your favorite colors on him, letting the top buttons on his shirt undone because he knows how much you liked seeing the beginnings of his swirling bargain marks.
All of this could be for nothing, you don't remember him after all, but, he was almost certain your body did in some way and it gave him hope. You calmed down in his arms just as you did a century ago, said his name in the same sweet cadence and never shied away from his touch, from his hands. His shadows told him as much. Sang to him about the way goosebumps rose in your skin at his touch and attentiveness, how your thoughts and intuition warred in his favor. He refused to let his thoughts deter him.
When he gets to the room he sees you and Feyre standing by the dresser, almost wanting to apologize for winnowing in instead of knocking first, but he can't seem to find any words as he sees you've changed as well, ditching the nightgown in favor of a sleeveless dress that went down to your knees. The cobalt blue was as striking against your skin as he remembered, the garment in itself was simple enough yet in his eyes you had never looked so stunning.
Feyre must have been the one to give you the dress, he was only surprised it had taken her so long to meddle in your relationship. If there were any doubts, they were quickly answered when she threw him a knowing smile before excusing herself from the room.
“I'm guessing the blue is supposed to match those gems you wear.”
“Siphons,” he offers, entranced by the way you walk closer to him, the silky fabric moving with your body and giving you an ethereal glow.
“Did I used to do that a lot?”
“Yes.” He observes the way your eyes run over his body, lingering on the unbuttoned shirt. Seems like his old tricks still work. “I always loved seeing you in blue.”
You tilt your head to the side slightly, biting the inside of your lip the way you always did. He tries to stand as still as possible without appearing too awkward, making sure you knew it was alright to do with him anything that crossed your pretty brain. You seem to make up your mind as you walk closer to him.
“Can I see them?” You hold up your palm and he holds his hand over it without hesitation, letting you grab onto his hand to study the glowing siphon. The swirling light shone in your eyes and he can't help but be reminded of the first time you asked him to do the same exact thing shortly after meeting him.
“All Illyrian warriors have them,” he explains, “They're used to help us control our powers.”
“It's beautiful.” He tries not to let his wings twitch as you now hold his hand with both of yours. “I don't think I've seen anything like this before.”
“You have,” he can't help the somber smile that crosses his face. The reminder makes you look away from his hand to watch him, a conflicted expression falling over your pretty face. “You always liked them.”
The abrupt change in the atmosphere has him asking the house to get the room ready for your dinner. Not being able to hide the smile as he watches your amazed expression at the table that pops up beside you, full of delicious looking food and decorated with candlesticks, the faelights around the room dim in favor of the candlelight.
“I only asked for the food,” he admits with a bashful expression. He's glad you can't tell that, aside from the candles, the plates were also some of the fanciest ones. The House was going all out for the two of you.
He uses the grip you had on his hand to guide you to the chair and help you sit before making his way to his own seat, settling down and giving order for the House to serve both of you. Letting himself enjoy every little expression you made as you eat and listening to anything you felt like telling him, also answering all your questions about the House and the food.
He knows this doesn't have the same meaning to you as it does to him, knows that, as much as you don't seem to hate his company, you're more interested in finding out more about the version of you in his memories, trying to make sense of your own identity. It's hard to imagine how this whole thing must feel for you, finding out half of your life was made up and that you forgot such an important part of it. Still, this must be the best night he's had in a century.
You set your elbows on the table and rest your face on your hands, watching him with undivided attention as he tells you about his sparring match with Cassian. Your eyes don't leave his face after he finishes, appearing lost in thought. He lets you gather them, relishing in the comfortable silence. He'd be content with simply watching you for eternity.
You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the chair, closing your eyes for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again.
“What happens if I never remember you, Azriel?” Your voice barely above a whisper.
The question and the uncertainty in your voice as you asked it make him pause. He keeps trying to push back the thought that you won't regain your memories but it seems you were having the same doubts.
Just last week, he wouldn't have believed having you back was even a possibility, so getting your memories back can't be out of reach, it just can't. He was ready to give his life to make it so.
Still, he witnessed how painful it had been for you when Rhys simply tried to access your memories, he'd also told him trying harder, forcefully, could break your mind completely. If their research doesn't go well, if they can't find who did this to you, there might not be another way of bringing your memories back.
But he'd sooner die than live another day without you, whether your memories come back or not.
“I'll make you fall for me again.”
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I've seen a lot of people comparing Huskerdust to a healthy version of Stolitz and it's kinda got me thinking... Staticmoth as the evil fucked up version of Fizzmodeus.
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THINK ABOUT IT!!!!! The parallels between Val and Ozzie are obvious. Like that man wants to be Ozzie so bad it's insane, from the way he dresses to the way he decorates to straight up OWNING A ROBO FIZZ, Val clearly wishes he was the embodiment of Lust. But are there parallels between Vox and Fizz? Actually, surprisingly yeah. They're both showmen, like aggressively so. They're very public figures, with their face all over every product in Hell(albeit Vox is doing it a lot more purposefully then Fizz). Fizz's antagonism towards Blitzø is actually pretty reminiscent of Vox's towards Alastor(except Fizz and Blitzø have a lot more baggage lmao), and they even share some aesthetic similarities! Specifically the colors of Fizz's robotic limbs matching Vox's overall color scheme. Which speaking of robots, that's probably their biggest similarity overall: they're both partially made of technology. I hesitate to say cyborg because Idk how much that applies to Vox, since object heads aren't typically classified as cyborgs as far as I know, and we don't actually know how much of Vox is organic(also cyborg is just one of those words I have an inexplicable dislike of Idk-), but like. Think cyborg I guess. Like Vox is a LOT more of a dick and probably doesn't have a very tragic backstory? Maybe? Unclear. But the similarities are undeniable.
Okay, now that individual parallels are out of the way, how could their relationship to eachother parallel Fizzmodeus? Starting with baseline aesthetics: they got the height difference. It's not as dramatic as Fizz and Ozzie's but TO BE FAIR, Huskerdust are the same way(their height difference is obvious, but not as massive as Blitzø and Stolas'). Staticmoth is also very buisness-partners-with-benefits and some hints at deeper feelings, which is how we were introduced to Fizzmodeus. I don't think Val and Vox feel the need to hide their romantic feelings? But tbh it could go either way we haven't seen much of their dynamic yet. That's kinda where the similarities I could spot find because see previous sentence, so let's move onto the differences!
I think a good way to breakdown what makes Staticmoth toxic Fizzmodeus is actually by bringing Alastor and Blitzø back in to compare and contrast how Val handles Vox's rivalry with how Ozzie handles Fizz's. In Radio Killed the Video Star, the only reason Val tells Vox that Alastor is at the hotel is to piss him off. He clearly enjoys Vox's reaction, and keeps egging him on. Teasing him about it. Which like, friendly teasing between partners is well and good, but Val is clearly just doing it cause he wants to see a fight and doesn't care about how distressed Vox is about this. Vox goes off on his own and sings a fuckin banger, gets publically humiliated, causes a massive blackout. Val doesn't really do shit to help him out, just kinda sits there and. Idk watches? Unclear what the other Vees are actually doing because most of Stayed Gone takes place in funny TV land where Vox is capable of bending reality to his whim for the sake of visual interest. But what Val is actively doing during the musical number isn't important so who cares. What's important is that he egged Vox on, convinced him that confronting Alastor right then was a good idea, and then just sat back as Vox got so pissed off he had a meltdown. Which I SWEAR I'm not trying to dramatize this scene it just sounds really fucking bad when you write it all down from this perspective. I think it's also worth noting that all of this is DIRECTLY AFTER Vox did the exact opposite for Val, calming him down so he doesn't make a fool of himself in public.
Meanwhile compare that to how Ozzie handles Fizz and Blitzø's relationship. During House of Asmodeus, once Fizz realizes Blitzø is there, he starts publically roasting him about how shitty his love life is. Ozzie encourages him, and even gives him a little congratualtions in the background when Verosika joins in for changing the subject, but the difference here is that House of Asmodeus takes place in a much more controlled environment, so it's less likely either of them will have to face consequences for being assholes. There's also how Ozzie's encouragement is just a lot more genuine. Like "yeah babe, go insult that guy who traumatized and abandoned you whoo!" rather then "hey hey look there's that guy you hate. You should go fight with him lmao show him who's boss." Then there's the ending. At the end of both Stayed Gone and House of Asmodeus, Vox and Fizz eat shit and die. Don't worry they're both fine like immediately after, but while in House of Asmodeus Ozzie immediately rushes over to Fizz to make sure okay, we uh. Do not see Vox interact with anybody but Alastor in the direct aftermath of his eating shit and dying, which is fair because he's in his weird little gamer cave. Then we skip straight to the Vees having a meeting to decide what they're gonna do about Alastor, and we don't really know what any of them were doing in the interim between the end of Stayed Gone and the meeting, so uh this part of the comparison kinda falls flat. But again something worth noting is that Val just straight up. Does not care about Alastor during the meeting scene. He's sitting there bedazzling his fucking gun BY HAND with school glue and rhinestones, not even paying attention to the meeting, despite being the one to get Vox all riled up about Alastor IN THE FIRST PLACE.
In short: Val encourages Vox to fight Alastor without thinking it through, doesn't bother to help out during the actual fight, and then immediately stops caring the moment the fights over. Meanwhile Ozzie, while encouraging Fizz to pick on Blitzø, backs him up the whole time, and while still supportive of his boyfriend, doesn't actively encourage Fizz to do things that would get him hurt. Ozzie also supports Fizz by refusing to let Blitzø have an Asmodean crystal because he knows Fizz wouldn't like it! Which is the exact opposite of pissing your partner off on purpose so you can watch a fight!!! And if that isn't enough evidence for you, then uh. I guess you could compare how Val treats... just everybody around him, really, with how Ozzie does(but that's more individual character analysis than relationship analysis). Or you could talk about how fed up with Val's shit Vox clearly is in comparison to the mutual support of Fizzmodeus. Or how. Val throws a glass at Vox. And breaks his phone. And then Vox has to scream in his face to get him to listen-
Idk how to end this so uh. DEMON ATTACK RAH!!! 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹
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fiapartridge · 3 months
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wedding bells | quinn hughes
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summary: in which y/n and her fiancé, quinn hughes, plan their long-awaited wedding.
request: [...i read invisible string...and it made me think of when they’re actually engaged and planning their wedding...quinn would love cake tasting and picking out the menu...and the bride loves planning the wedding but...[it's] stressful and she wants everything to be perfect. some minor thing goes wrong and she has a bridezilla breakdown moment and quinn is so sweet and calms her down...]
author's note 💌: eeee i love this request!!!! thank u anon for requesting; it's so cute!
cake tasting
“I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment I learned this existed,” Quinn beamed, his eyes fixed on the road as he exited the freeway. His right hand rested gently on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grin, happy that he finally wanted to be involved in a part of the wedding planning process—even if today was all about cake.
With a playful tilt of your head, a mock tsk of disapproval escaped your lips as Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be eating healthy for your game next week? How about I eat the cake and you watch.”
“And watch you live out my dream?” he scoffed. “Yeah, the game’s not that important.”
“That game is gonna secure your spot in the playoffs, Captain,” you smirked, playfully poking his arm. You loved teasing him about his captaincy, like saying Aye aye, Captain whenever he asked you for a favor, or your personal fave, So when does the team give you your honorary eye patch and silver hooky thingy? To which he always responds with, Not that kind of captain, babe. 
As Quinn pulled into the bakery’s parking lot, he cupped your cheeks in his hand, his face growing serious, feeling almost like a team huddle. His voice lowered, and his face drew close to yours as he laid out some sort of plan. “I’m gonna eat a lot of cake today, so much that I wore my stretchy pants-”
“Oh, the Lululemon ones that I bought you?” You got them for him as a Christmas gift along with other items. You were happy that he actually wore them outside the house for once. 
“Yes those ones, but we need to stay focused.” You nodded intently, totally focused. “Jack is gonna call you later and he’s gonna ask you if I ate any of this cake today, and I’m gonna need you to lie.”
A burst of laughter escaped you. “You want me to lie to Jacky? About you eating cake? During our cake tasting? Because…”
“Because him and Luke have a bet going on that I’m gonna break my diet for this, and Luke said that if he wins we’re splitting the cash 50/50, so I really need you to lie, baby.”
Rolling your eyes, you opened the passenger door, Quinn doing the same on his side. “I really don’t understand you guys. Like, why not just be normal and bet on who’s winning the next Super Bowl or something?”
Quinn wrapped around the front of the car, intertwining his fingers with yours as you approached the bakery’s entrance. “Did that a few years ago, we each lost $700 to Luke.”
“Jesus, you guys are loaded. The last time my family and I had a bet, we each did $10 and whatever old gift card we had stowed away in our wallets. Apparently mine was from 2015 and the place it was for got shut down for rat poisoning? I don’t know,” you shrugged.
As the hours passed and the 20th cake flavor came around, Quinn felt like his stretchy pants were out of stretch, and you felt like you could take a nap right on top of the table. Cakes were not for the weak, let me tell you that.
“I feel like everything tastes the same now,” Quinn struggled to get the words out. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he was trying not to heave and talk at the same time. 
“I feel like I can’t feel my legs,” you replied, a visible food baby proudly displayed on your belly.
Dipping your finger into the frosting of the pink champagne cake, guaranteed to be the most fanciest cake you’ve ever had, you swiped it across Quinn’s nose. “Oops,” you grinned. “I’m just so full; I must’ve twitched or something.”
Rolling his eyes, Quinn smeared the orange creamsicle cake across your face, as if you were donning eye black and dodging defenders past the 40-yard line.
“Oh, you’re getting it,” you laughed, swiping a finger across the blueberry with graham cracker crumble, a grandma’s dying wish, planting strokes on his chin and forehead. “Aw, don’t you look cute?” you teased.
He smirked, getting impossibly close. It was good that the wedding planner and cake baker were in another room chatting, or else they would probably be yelling at you two to get your hands off each other at once. “Wanna make a bet?”
“Hm, does it involve me losing thousands of dollars?” He shook his head. “Hundreds?” Another shake. “Any money?” One more. “Then you’re on, pretty boy. What’s your proposition?”
“We leave right now and you can lick all of this off in the car-”
“Amy!” you shouted for your wedding planner as she came stumbling into the room, afraid something was wrong. “We have to go; family emergency,” you pouted, really selling it. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?”
“Oh, yeah, okay!” she nodded. “Take care of the family!”
“Will do!” you shouted, dragging Quinn behind you as if you were Lightning McQueen in any of the Cars movies. Boy, were you quick. Even Quinn was shook and he skated with some of the fastest hockey players around. 
“I win,” Quinn whispered, his lips pressed to the crown of your head as you reached the car, pushing him inside. 
“Yeah? Kinda seems like I’m the winner.”
the wedding rehearsal
“Oh, don’t you flower girls look cute?” you smiled, drawing your knees to your chest as you bent down to meet them eye-level. “You ready to walk the runway?”
“Daddy said this was a wedding,” Ella, your brother’s daughter, shyly replied, playing with a couple of petals in the basket. 
“Wedding shmedding,” you grinned, earning giggles from the little ones. “Think of it as a runway, and you’re the models.”
“What about,” Grace, Brady and Emma’s daughter piped up, “it’s a runway and I’m the airplane?”
“Oh,” you said, eyes widening a bit before breaking into a giggle.
“That works too! Just don’t be afraid, okay? If it makes you two feel any better, Uncle Jacky has to walk the aisle and he can barely skate on two feet.”
“Hey!” Jack popped out of the line forming behind the three of you, a procession of earthy-toned dresses and black-and-white suits ready to rehearse for the big day. The sight made you want to cry. Everyone you ever cared about was here for you and Quinn, for your big day. 
It brought you back to the moment you met Quinn, the moment your life truly began. You were friends with Emma, having met in college at Boston University where you also met Brady. You had just gotten out of a year-long relationship and were stressed over midterms, so Emma suggested that you get a “sex-tox” — a detox involving, well, sex. It sounded perfect at the time. Fuck a stranger, never see them again, release some stress, and live your best life.
But that’s kind of hard to do when that stranger is Quinn Hughes. You fell in love with him the moment Brady introduced you. Maybe it was the way his hand lingered in yours for a just a second longer than what’s considered a “normal” handshake, or maybe it was the way his eyes followed you throughout the bar like he was scared that you would come back to the table with another guy’s arm draped over your shoulder, or maybe it was the way he said your name, like it was made for his lips and his voice.
He was just so perfect and now you were marrying him. It all felt so much like a dream, like you’ll wake up one day and everything will be gone. But when you see Quinn laughing with his groomsmen, his eyes immediately finding yours, his arms flying around your body, hundreds of whistles and hoots coming from everyone around you as you tuned them out, your attention solely placed on the man you’ll be able to call your husband as little as tomorrow, you know that this is real, and he is yours, and this is peace.
the wedding day
This is a disaster. The centerpiece flowers are sky blue instead of columbia, your grandma wants to trade seats with William Nylander because she has this newfound obsession with Mitch Marner which would put William Nylander with your grandpa and the weird uncle that always gets way too drunk at weddings but will never admit that he has an alcohol problem, chalking it up to a “one time thing.” Even though we all know that he’s gonna do it again at the next wedding! And to top the shit-cake that is this day, your wedding planner decided to be selfish and break her water overnight, so now she’s in the hospital trying to push a tiny human out of her uterus while you’re here trying not to physically strangle every single person that comes to you with a question.
You were tired, and nervous, and your makeup looks terrible, and you feel bloated, and you don’t feel pretty enough to walk down that aisle, and you don’t feel pretty enough to be with Quinn, and why would he want to be with a girl that can’t even plan her own damn wedding correctly? And you just feel…defeated. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Luke bounced through the door of your bridal suite, his hand hovering over his eyes. 
“You don’t have to cover your eyes, Luke, you’re not the groom,” you muttered, fiddling with the ends of your hair.
“Right,” he chuckled nervously. “Um, so there’s a problem.” 
You closed your eyes, sighing. You felt like your head might explode. What else are we going to add to this ginormous shit storm of a day? Let me guess, Cole already got shit-faced at the mini bar, or Nico got lost on the way here and that car held Jesper, Holtz, and Dougie, or oh! Did your brother get into conversation with Trevor on how he can perfect his alley-oop if he substituted Milano with him? Seriously, what else can get worse than this?
“We can’t find Quinn.”
You’re gonna throw up. Are you already throwing up? Because there’s this tingly feeling that’s bubbling in your throat, and you don’t know if it’s from the copious amount of champagne you consumed last night or the urge to find Quinn and murder him with your bare hands. I think it’s the latter.
Before Luke could say anything else, you dashed towards the door, his calls fading behind you. You didn’t know if you were running to find Quinn or to escape this hell hole for yourself. Maybe Quinn was onto something. Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, were you that naive to believe that someone like Quinn would actually want to marry someone like you?
With your shoes discarded, you found solace on a rock overlooking a small lake near the venue. Your once pristine white gown was now engulfed in the grass, your disheveled hair was poking out of its metal claw clip,  your mascara was noticeably smudged, and the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face no matter how hard you tried to stop it. You were nervous about the wedding, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore since the groom is apparently missing and nothing else is working out. Ha! Now they don’t even have a bride. This is terrific.
With crunching leaves, you heard a small, “Hey,” behind you.
You turned slowly to find Quinn, the man of the hour, finally present. You didn’t say anything, fearing that your words would come out with a choke. You couldn’t stop crying.
Quinn settled down on the rock next to you. “I’m sorry for leaving like that, I just—had to clear my head for a bit. I’m a little nervous.”
“Are you getting cold feet?” you mumbled, scared to hear his answer. You knew he loved you, but you also knew that he would put people’s feelings way above his own. You didn’t want to marry him if he was having doubts.
He shook his head. “No.” His hands found yours amid the puffiness of your dress. “I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you’re the woman I want to marry.”
“So why-”
“There’s like 300 people out there waiting to see us get married, and Jack’s already talking about us having a kid in the next couple months, and—it’s a lot, you know? You?”
You furrowed your brows. “Me, what?”
“Getting cold feet?”
You shook your head. “I’m tired,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I feel like everything’s going wrong today. Amy’s out having a baby, the flowers are the wrong shade of blue, Grandma wants to sit next to Mitch Marner, I thought you left, and-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Quinn cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs, just as he has done time and time before. The gesture never fails to give you a sense of comfort. “Years from now, when we’re old and living in a house in the suburbs, and you’ll probably have an orange tabby cat on your lap, and we’ll be telling stories to our grandchildren about our wedding day, we’re not gonna remember the color of the flowers, or who sat next to Marner, or any of that, okay?”
You nodded.
“We’re gonna remember you and me. We’re gonna remember how much I love you. And we’re probably gonna remember us sitting on rocks, stalling our own wedding day.”
A giggle escaped you because this was all so ridiculous. Quinn was right; you’re not gonna remember everything that went wrong. You and Quinn—that’s all that matters.
You pressed a long, innocent, and probably salty kiss on his lips. He saw you in your wedding dress, a superstitious hockey player breaking a centuries-long superstition, but for once, you didn’t care. 
“You ready to get married?” Quinn grinned, holding his hand out to you. 
You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m ready.”
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zapreportsblog · 6 months
Note
Could you do something with the Cullens where the reader has a meltdown at school and they find out it’s because they have diabetes and their blood sugar dropped and they can’t find their juice box they packed just in case
❝i need a juice box❞
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✭ pairing : cullen siblings x reader
✭ fandom : twilight
✭ summary : (y/n) has diabetes and their sugar intake tends to drop quite a bit hence why their always remember to bring a pack of juices with them everywhere, not only does it help but it’s tasty too. But then one day her juice boxes bust in her locker, so what does any frustrated person do? Have a mental breakdown like it’s the end of the world, luckily some classmates of hers has her back
✭ authors note : Ayo ignore that juice part that says no sugar added 😭 i used the first picture i seen of juice and those shits be bustin. Ah and I’ve been watching anime lately so i apologize in advance for the lack of writing I’m putting out
✭ twilight masterlist 2
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(Y/N) had always been well-acquainted with the delicate balance of her health. Diabetes wasn't just a condition for her; it was a family legacy. With half her family members wrestling with the same ailment, it was almost a rite of passage.
The sun had barely risen over Forks as she hurriedly got ready for her first day at Forks High School. This new beginning was daunting enough, but it became even more challenging with the knowledge that her diabetes would be a constant companion throughout the day.
As she zipped up her school bag, she made sure to slot in her lifeline - a package of juices. These juices were her safety net, ensuring her blood sugar levels stayed within a safe range. She had diligently followed this routine every day, her tiny insurance policy against hypoglycemia.
With her backpack securely on her shoulders, (Y/N) headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her mom greeted her with a warm smile, understanding the importance of this daily ritual. "Don't forget your juices, dear," she reminded.
(Y/N) grabbed the chilled package from the fridge and slipped it into her bag. "Thanks, Mom," she said, returning the smile. Her mom's familiarity with diabetes had always been a source of comfort.
Minutes later, she was out the door and on her way to Forks High School. The campus buzzed with excitement, but (Y/N) couldn't help feeling a bit of trepidation. New school, new faces, and the relentless specter of diabetes were a lot to handle.
History class was her first stop, and she found a seat next to a boy named Jasper. They exchanged polite nods as she settled into her chair, trying to focus on the teacher's introduction.
Then it happened. A discreet but insistent beep emanated from her wrist. Her watch timer, meticulously set to remind her when to take her juice, had gone off. This was the crucial moment to maintain her blood sugar levels. With practiced ease, she reached into her bag to retrieve her juice, only to discover her heart-sinking realization – it wasn't there.
Panic started to creep in, her fingers trembling as she fumbled through her bag in desperation. Jasper, noticing her distress, leaned closer. "Is everything okay?" he asked in a concerned whisper.
(Y/N) could feel her face flush with anxiety. She mumbled, "I think I left my juice in my locker. I need to go get it."
The teacher, Mrs. Thompson, glanced their way. "Is there a problem?"
(Y/N) stuttered, "I just need to grab something from my locker. It won't take long, I promise."
Mrs. Thompson nodded, granting her permission to leave the class. Her heart raced as she hurried out the door, fervently hoping that her juice would be where she thought it was.
(Y/N) practically sprinted through the hallways, her heart pounding in her chest. The idea of waiting another four hours until lunch without her juice was unbearable. She needed to retrieve her lifeline from her locker, and she needed it now.
Finally, she reached her locker, a sense of relief washing over her as she yanked it open. But that relief quickly turned to frustration as she stared at the sight before her. Her textbooks had fallen over and, in a cruel twist of fate, had crushed the juice boxes. Their colorful packaging was torn and sticky liquid seeped from the ruined containers.
"No, no, no," she muttered in frustration, tears welling up in her eyes. It felt like the universe was conspiring against her today, and the overwhelming weight of her situation crashed down on her shoulders. Her mind raced with thoughts of how she would make it through the day without her juice.
Just when it seemed like her world was spiraling out of control, a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?" It was Rosalie, a girl she barely knew, but one of the few familiar faces in this new school.
(Y/N) blinked back tears and explained what had happened, her voice quivering with anxiety. "I don't know what to do. I can't wait until lunch without my juice."
Rosalie glanced at the sticky mess inside her locker and then at Emmett, who had joined them. "That's totally not cool," he said, sympathy in his eyes. "I'll grab you something from the vending machine. What do you want?"
(Y/N) opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a word, Emmett had already taken off down the hallway. She looked helplessly after him, torn between gratitude and a sense of intrusion.
Rosalie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said with a warm smile. "Once Emmett's made up his mind, that's that. He's a bit overbearing at times, but he means well."
(Y/N) couldn't help but smile through her frustration. In this unexpected moment of crisis, she had found a glimmer of kindness and support. Sometimes, it took a helping hand to make a bad situation feel a little more manageable.
Just when (Y/N) thought her day couldn't get any stranger, Emmett returned with a comical surplus of juice boxes in his arms. He had not come back with just one or two; he had brought what looked like a small grocery store worth of them.
"Emmett! What are you doing?" Rosalie exclaimed, smacking him on the back of the head. She looked at the impressive stack of juice boxes with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Emmett shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "I didn't know how many she wanted, so I just grabbed them all."
(Y/N) stood there, stunned and grateful. She couldn't believe the lengths this stranger was going to in order to help her out. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
Emmett chuckled. "No problem at all. It's better to have too many than not enough, right?"
Rosalie rolled her eyes but wore a fond smile. "You always do this, Emmett. How are you going to carry all of them?"
Emmett scratched his head, looking a bit perplexed. "I'll just carry them around until we see her again at lunch. She can take what she needs now."
(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I don't even know how to thank you both enough," she said, reaching out to take a handful of juice boxes, about six of them. It was a bit heavy, but she could manage.
Emmett grinned, his good-naturedness shining through. "You're welcome. Anytime you need help, just let us know."
Rosalie gave (Y/N) a playful shove. "Girls gotta help girls, right?"
With her backpack now considerably heavier with the added juice boxes, (Y/N) felt a newfound sense of belonging. These two strangers had shown her kindness and support when she needed it most, and she couldn't help but feel that Forks High School might not be such a daunting place after all. As they walked her back to class, she couldn't help but smile, grateful for this unexpected friendship.
Lunchtime arrived, and (Y/N) entered the bustling cafeteria with her stack of juice boxes, feeling a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. She looked around, wondering where to sit when she heard a familiar voice booming across the room.
"Hey, juice girl!" Emmett called out, waving enthusiastically from a table on the other side of the cafeteria. His infectious energy drew the attention of many students, and a few curious glances followed her as she made her way toward him.
A warm smile stretched across her face as she approached Emmett's table. He had saved her from a diabetic crisis earlier in the day, and now he was offering her a seat at his table, as if she were already part of their group.
"Thanks," she said, taking a seat next to Emmett, her stack of juice boxes settling beside her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging that she hadn't expected to find so quickly in this new school.
As she settled in and started unpacking her lunch, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel grateful for the kindness of her new friends. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her, and it made Forks High School feel a little less dauntin
Emmett introduced his siblings to (Y/N) with a playful grin. "This is Rosalie, my lovely and sometimes overly responsible partner, and this," he gestured dramatically to a young man who had been quiet until now, "is Edward, our resident brooding poet."
“Partner?”
“It’s complicated,” Rosalie says but she gave (Y/N) a warm smile, and Edward nodded in acknowledgment, his expression more reserved.
Emmett couldn't resist a teasing grin as he turned to (Y/N). "And, of course, you already know me, the one who saved the day earlier—your trusty juice retriever." He emphasized the last part, a playful twinkle in his eye.
“Then there’s Alice and jasper but I’m not sure where those two are at the moment.” He added.
(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at Emmett's description. "Yes, my hero," she replied, her gratitude evident in her tone.
Edward, who had been observing the interaction quietly, couldn't resist a smirk. "Emmett and his heroic acts. Quite the storyteller, he is."
Emmett chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Well, I just wanted to make sure our new friend here didn't pass out from low blood sugar."
(Y/N) felt a sense of warmth and camaraderie settling in at the table. These strangers had quickly become friends, and she was grateful for their support. With a newfound sense of belonging, she joined in the conversation, feeling more at ease in this new school than she had thought possible.
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etherealyoungk · 9 months
Text
college boyfriend!chan
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because i really wanted to write something with these pictures of chan <3
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college bf!chan who had a crush on you ever since you joined, and it took him a whole year and a half before he gathered the courage to finally talk to you and (clumsily) ask you out. chan likes you so much and is always waiting for you by your locker or outside of your class so you both can go to lunch together. he's just so enamored by you really.
college bf!chan who would see your schedules for the new semester and see if you had any classes together. but you didn't since you both were doing different courses. you just happened to have one class a week together and he's just complaining about how he's supposed to spend the entire day without out?? that's a crime in his opinion. so the one class he's with you he's gonna flirt with you nonstop, sending you cute smiles and winks and air kisses because he didn't get a seat next to you and ended up sitting at the other end of the lecture hall. he'll def be the type to pass little love notes to you during class if he manages to sit next to you. and he's also gonna hold your hand underneath the table the one class you have together. he's just so enamored by you really.
college bf!chan who would always aks for a goodluck kiss before a test or exam because why not. "they really do help, last time you forgot to kiss me and my grade dropped", he says with the most serious face and how can you even say no to that cute face.
college bf!chan who loves having little library study dates with you and he brings all your favorite snacks. he'll say "okay let's study for 1 hour and then take a break", but he's getting distracted within the first 15 minutes and scooting his chair closer to yours as he leans his head against your shoulder. "one hour isn't over genius", you tell, knowing well what he's trying to do. "hm i think i need a recharge kiss", he says, lifting his head up as he looks at you. "please?", he adds, puckering his lips. you give him a knowing look but give him a peck anyways. he proceeds to feed you some chips and looks at what you're studying.
college bf!chan who convinced you to skip class to watch a movie and you couldn't even say no because he'd already booked the tickets. so that's how you were both in the theater watching a movie instead of being in class. but you didn't really care, seeing chan smiling and eagerly watching the movie he was so excited made your heart full. he'll spoil you with an added dinner date too, which ends up being mcdonalds but who are you to complain, these were the best kind of dates.
college bf!chan who would hate seeing you stressed out and anxious during exams season and complained about how exams are actually stupid and should be banned. he'll make sure you don't overwork yourself by staying up late, pulling all-nighters - because he knows you've done it before and hates seeing you breakdown later.
college bf!chan who attended a class for you when you were down with a nasty cold and took the time to make notes for you so you wouldn't miss out and have to stress out over catching up. the notes he took were cutely messy and scattered but he did mange to get down the important information. he'll even be ready to do the assignment for you, but you tell him it's okay, feeling bad. he cups his cheeks in his hands as he tells you he'd do anything for you and this is the least he can do before he's giving you a warm hug. you did end up getting a decent grade for the assignment because of chan.
college bf!chan who will spoil you after your exam, treating you to a cute lunch and buying you your favortie cake as a little celebration for getting through exam season. expect lots of handholding as you both walk hand in hand.
college bf!chan who would smile and be your biggest hypeman when you're presenting your presentation to the whole class. he'll also be a little goofy, shooting you smiles and winks and you're trying not to smile too hard and laugh at his antics. he'll even write a" y/n is the best" with a little heart on a small piece of paper and hold it up, shooting you a silly smile as you see what he's done and bite your lip, trying not to grin. the moment your presentation is over, you're gathering your stuff back and going back to your seat, whisper yelling at chan. "what were you doing!", you say as you put your stuff on the table and sit down. luckily you both were in the back so no one could hear or pay much attention to you both. "i was supporting my lovely partner who worked so hard on their presentation" "by trying to make me laugh?", you say deadpan. "what no i was being supportive...baby cmon. fine next time i won't be supportive i guess", he says, frowning as he crosses his arms. "you're such an idiot, my idiot", you say, smiling, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "thank you", you add and he finally cracks into a smile and he intertwines his hand in yours.
college bf!chan who's always supportive of whatever you decide to do. he's your little pillar of support and you're so grateful to him for being with you.
taglist: @daisycheols @ylliris-hanniehae @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @joshuaahong @fairyhaos @rubywonu @gam3bo1z @cutiepatutie13 @ibsysbsfunsbs @rksbae @kyeomyun @icyminghao
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f1verse · 12 days
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Pairing: Lando Norris x f! reader: Y/n had a broken heart. Could Lando be the one to make her believe in love again? Happy ending, I promise. PART 3
PART 1 HERE
PART 2 HERE
MASTERLIST
Warnings: None I think. English is not my 1st language.
Credits to pinterest for the pictures!
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SILVERSTONE GP 2023
"I really don't want to go out," Y/n whispered from her place in bed. The reality was that knowing her ex-best friend and boyfriend had married today was a hard pill to swallow. She had spent a wonderful day; Lando got P2 in the race. They had seen each other briefly because the race and the post-race events were chaotic, but she would never forget the excitement she felt when Lando crossed the finish line and saw him on the podium, full of joy. She would never forget the tight hug Lando gave her.
"He sent you a message, right?" Pietra stood in front of her, clad in her blue dress, ready to go out.
"He called me, but I missed it. Then he sent a message saying he still loved me… It's not like I want to get back with him. I really despise him and Mary because they broke me in ways that I never believed possible… I was hugging Lando today and wondered if I could ever trust somebody again. It made me really sad because they left me with all these insecurities about everything, and I was the one who did everything okay; they were the ones who acted wrongly!" Y/n started crying, and Pietra sat by her side. It was not the first time that Y/n had these breakdowns. Some days were easier than others, but Pietra always tried her best on the worst days.
"I'm so sorry you are that hurt… I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You're so wonderful, funny, and beautiful. You don't deserve to feel like that. I know it seems hard to trust somebody, but you should try. At least meet somebody, go out, and have fun. The trust will arrive eventually." Pietra stroked Y/n's hair while she wiped her eyes. "I can't leave you here… Why don't you try? If you're not having fun, then you can come back here." Pietra tried for the last time, and Y/n watched her for a moment.
"Okay, but you will not hurry me up," Y/n pointed at her friend with her finger, and Pietra raised both arms.
"I will help you get ready!" She said, ignoring all of Max's calls to hurry them up.
"Lando was drinking champagne while having a little talk with Oscar, whom he convinced to join the party. The truth was, even with his podium finish, he wasn't in the party mood because he expected to be celebrating with Y/n, getting to know her better and better, but she wasn't there.
"Where are Y/n and Pietra?" Lando asked Max.
"There!" Max pointed to two girls who were walking towards them. Lando searched desperately with his eyes, and instantly found her. She was wearing a beautiful black short dress, looking breathtaking.
"Mate, tone it down a little," Oscar laughed about Lando's reaction. Lando ignored Oscar and smiled at Y/n as she arrived.
"Hey, podium boy. Having fun already?" She said, and Lando kissed her cheek.
"I'm better now. You look so pretty," he said, and she felt her face flush.
"Thank you, you look pretty too," she replied, but Oscar interrupted them to say hi to Y/n. The three of them started talking about the race and Australia until Oscar said he had to leave because of a morning flight. Y/n tried to get into the party mood, but she failed. She felt like she was fooling everyone but not Lando.
"You don't want to be here, right?" Lando whispered in her ear, sending shivers down Y/n's spine.
"Not really…" she confessed, looking at Lando. He analyzed her face, noting a little mole on her cheek.
"We can go watch a movie," Lando suggested, and Y/n shook her head. She couldn't do that to him; they were celebrating something really important.
"You should celebrate," she said, but he just shrugged, as if he didn't care about it.
"Your company is enough for me," Y/n's heart warmed at Lando's words, not the first time he had done so. "Come on, let's go." Lando took her hand, whispered something to Max, and left with Y/n wrapped around his arm. On the way out, many girls tried to stop Lando and dance with him, but he politely declined them. They took the elevator, and Lando pressed the button for the 13th floor.
"I'm on the 4th floor," Y/n said, confused.
"I know, but we can go to my room. I have the biggest TV there," he said, stroking her hand with his thumb. The two of them were comfortable with the touch, as if they had held each other's hand many times before. They were meant for each other.
Lando opened his door with his code and invited her in. She looked around the room.
"This is so beautiful… and the TV is really huge," she said, heading to the sofa. She took off her heels and lay down.
"I know something that will make you feel better," Lando said, disappearing into his bedroom and coming back instantly, hiding something behind his back.
"I'm not down… I just don't feel like partying," she lied a little.
"I can see the sadness in your eyes; don't lie to me. We're starting something, and I don't want lies between us," he said, and at that moment, Y/n knew that Lando could see through her, as if he looked into her soul every time he watched her.
"Sorry… but I'm not looking for anything…" Y/n began, but Lando interrupted her.
"Hey… I know you've been badly hurt, and that really sucks. I'm not trying to rush things here, but I really want you to know this is not something I'm playing at or just spending my free time on. I really want to know you, and I'm a man with a lot of patience. I will wait until you're ready, but keep in mind that I'm ready," Lando confessed, revealing what he hid behind his back. "Ta-daa."
Y/n started laughing when she saw the bag of stroopwafel.
"Stroopwafel? Do you have coffee here?" she asked, a little confused, and Lando shook his head.
"You eat it like this," he said, opening the bag and picking one up. He hummed; he loved that thing. "This is so good, oh my God," he said before sitting next to Y/n. He offered her one, and she took it. Lando watched her attentively as she ate it.
"This is good… like really good," she said while eating. "I hope you have more of these because I'm not stopping until my tummy aches," Lando laughed, amused to share another thing with her.
"Don't worry about that, beauty," he said, continuing to eat the stroopwafel while they decided what movie to watch. Y/n didn't watch the whole film; she fell asleep in the middle of the movie, in Lando's arms, as they cuddled while watching. He was happy that she had relaxed enough to fall asleep in his arms; it was a vote of confidence, her vote of confidence. Then, he felt his phone vibrate, so he carefully checked his messages, ensuring that y/n didn't wake up because of him.
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He set an alarm and placed his phone on the table. He dedicated a few moments to watch her sleep, wondering how much time it would take for her to fall in love with him. He pondered over the scars from her past that she was facing and resolved to try his best to kiss away every one of them, no matter how much time it would take.
"You will love me back, eventually," he whispered to her, feeling something deep in his heart. He leaned down to kiss her temple, wishing her the best of sleep. Then, he wrapped her in his arms and peacefully fell asleep himself.
f1gossipvromgirl has posted a story
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August 2023
Luckily, Lando had a few weeks to relax. He had been eagerly awaiting this time, longing to see y/n. They talked every day, exchanging good mornings and good nights. Sometimes they even fell asleep while chatting about Lando's races or sharing funny anecdotes. He truly appreciated that y/n often stayed up despite the time differences just to talk to him. Although Lando wanted to ask y/n to come see him at another race, he held back, concerned about the rumors circulating about them being in a relationship. Despite y/n's assurances that she didn't mind, Lando worried about the increased exposure.
Finally, he had the opportunity to spend several days with her, although for him, it wasn't enough. Both of them felt genuinely comfortable in each other's presence. With every passing minute spent together, Lando became more certain about his feelings.
He was in love, and he knew it completely. All his friends knew about his feelings for y/n; everybody instantly recognized that he was totally obsessed with that girl. When Lando looked at her, his friends were surprised because they never thought they would see Lando settle down.
They were in the comfort of Lando's home; y/n was reading a book on the sofa, and Lando was reading emails from work while they drank y/n's favorite wine. Lando used one hand for his work and the other to stroke her legs, which were in his lap. From the outside, they looked like a couple, but the truth was that they were friends.
"I've never danced in the rain," y/n voiced an inner thought aloud. Lando looked at her and then glanced outside. It was a rainy night. He set aside his iPhone and took y/n's hand.
"Let's do it!" Lando said, completely amused by the idea of dancing with her.
"You don't have to… It's a silly idea," she said, recalling what her ex-boyfriend had told her when she invited him to dance in the rain.
"No, it's not," Lando insisted, dragging her to his balcony. He put his hands around her hips and looked into her eyes; she was indeed so beautiful. "What song are we dancing to?"
"I don't know… 'New Year's Day' by Taylor Swift?" she answered a little shyly.
"Alexa, play 'New Year's Day' by Taylor Swift," Lando requested, and the music started. He began to dance while y/n giggled, trying to follow his footsteps. The rain poured down on them, soaking their clothes, but they didn't care; they were looking at each other while dancing and smiling. Lando pulled her closer, bringing them face to face, breathing the same air.
"Lan…" she began, and for a moment Lando feared the worst, that she was going to tell him she only wanted to be friends. "I think I'm in love with you," she said, gazing into his eyes, which she liked so much. Lando smiled at her.
"Good. Because I'm so in love with you, baby. Can I kiss you? I've been dying to kiss you," Lando whispered, pressing their foreheads together. She nodded, and finally, after weeks of wishing and dreaming, Lando put his lips on hers.
Their lips met in a delicate dance of desire and affection, each brush sending shivers down their spines. Lando's touch was tender yet fervent, as if he wanted to convey all the emotions he held in his heart through that single kiss.
Y/n responded with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. In that moment, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the soft patter of raindrops outside.
As they kissed, it was as if time itself had slowed down, allowing them to savor every moment of this newfound intimacy. Each touch, each caress, was filled with a depth of emotion that words could never fully express.
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Last part, I think. Thank you for your lovely comments🧡
TAGLIST:
@harrysdimple05@livelovesports@charlandoland@mahii7@cmleitora@erickaadra08-blog@barcelonaloverf1life@sltwins@secretunnels@elizanav @mrosales16 @leptitlu@hiireadstuff
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kingconia · 8 months
Text
Leona Kingscholar & Malleus Draconia with S/O, who shares their insecurity.
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— He is quite observant, and he had some theories about what exactly makes you feel so familiar and warm before, but it took some events to happen for him to realise what it was;
— He wasn't really happy. He knows how hard it is, always to be left out and forgotten by people you want to call friends. And he hates that you experience that, too;
— Though, he is slightly blessed by possibility to be understood fully;
— Nevertheless, he starts to pay attention more;
— It kills him to watch how you are never invited to important events or celebration, and his heart is aching, when he notices how you are silently following Ace and Deuce, who speak loudly, hardly noticing how far you are behind them;
— He waits, though, for your next personal meeting, to confront you;
— “I am fine with that,” you cut him in the middle of his speech with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. ”It has its perks, too.”
— He can't deny it, but he hates how accustomed to this thought you are;
— And since you helped him to overcome his loneliness, he is planning to do the same for you! So, buckle up, Malleus-comfort-Draconia is after you;
— He is gentle and he is gallant. He makes you feel special by acts of service, and by the way he treats you. And he treats you so well;
— Malleus remembers everything you talk about, even if you mentioned it for a second or less. He remembers what you eat and what you don't, always proudly ordering or brining you something;
— In days, when he is away, or for some reason can't talk with you, he leaves random notes around your room, or places you definitely will visit, during the day, so you could always feel that you are not forgotten;
— If both of you are not alone, and someone speaks over you, or he simply notices that you too quiet, he always turns to ask you questions, and get you involved again;
— In other words... He returns you your own kindness;
— And you are so grateful.
Leona Kingscholar. 🧡
— He is observant, too, but his emotional intelligence is... Really suffering. And you are putting a really impressive act, so, it takes him a whole breakdown from you to see that;
— It happens after some stupid exam that he—naturally—doesn't care about. But it is important for you, and you kinda rivaling for a best score with Azul, just like he always fights with Malleus, so he gets that;
— You fail, and it takes one phrase from Azul to send you on the edge;
— ”Isn't it time to get used of being always the second one, Y/n?”
— Even Leona flinches, hearing that—too close to home, am I right?—but you ignore Azul, so he thinks you are fine. You are not crying or anything, right?;
— And then, he finds you in the library, where he tries to take a nap, and you are restless;
— Your desk is filled with books, notes written all over, and you look absolutely tired. But in a moment you fail to do something correctly, you just... Scream? You trash all books on the floor, you tear all your writings down. You are so uncharacteristically raged and helpless that Leona doesn't even know what to say;
— He just stares at you, asking you are okay;
— Well, you are not;
— ”Okay?! How the fuck I am supposed to be okay, when no matter how hard I work, I am still not enough, Leona?! I am no one, and I have nothing, and I can't even prove that I am capable of anything! I can't even reach the top ot the class! And—”;
— Angry tears prickling your eyes, and Leona is so panicked, lmao;
— So, he just shoves you to his chest. You hit him, he hisses, but then you finally relax;
— He doesn't say much, because he understands that no good words are able to heal this kind of wound, especially so easily, so he takes in consideration everything he heard;
— Leona is really sad that you struggle with that, but he secretly loves it, too. It means you understand each other;
— He has his own ways to help you out. He tries to help you improve your skills, if he can help, of course;
— (And he beats the shit of Azul, and many others, who managed to say something offensive to you, but that is not the part you should hear about. Ever.)
— He knows how hard you work, so he constantly forces you to nap with him. If you don't want to sleep, that's fine. You are just going to lay down, under him, doing nothing, while he snores, curling around you;
— ...He kinda forces Ruggie to take care of you, too, lmao;
— And he calls you his Queen, so... You know How Much he actually respects you and amazed of what you do;
— Want it or not, Leona is going to make you love yourself. Just love him back. Please?
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enhaloves · 11 months
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When he crosses the line
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genre: Fluff! a spark of angst!
pairing: bf!niki x reader
masterlist
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You are fully aware of your boyfriend's playful nature and have become quite accustomed to it. He's always looking for opportunities to tease you, and although you may not like to admit it, you find it endearing. When he teases you, he becomes very affectionate and cute, which you truly enjoy. However, it's important to note that not all of his attempts at teasing are successful.
It was one of those days that you just wanted to forget. Everything seemed to go wrong, and you felt like you were constantly battling against the universe. You were exhausted both physically and emotionally, and all you could think about was getting home, taking a hot shower, and sleeping for at least 12 hours. So that's exactly what you did. After feeling refreshed from your long shower, you hopped into bed and grabbed your phone.
You promptly texted your boyfriend Niki to share the unfortunate events that took place. You nearly fell into a street canal, had an unsatisfactory sandwich, failed your quiz, and received a C- grade from your P.E. instructor for stumbling down during dance class. The day was beyond terrible.
Despite your frustration and lack of attention to your phone, you were able to receive a text message from your beloved boyfriend. “what the hell…” you muttered under your breath. This was not what you have planned on seeing after having a mid breakdown crisis. Your boyfriend had just sent you ‘lol, sounds like a you problem’. i honestly think he'd do this 😭😭😭
You knew he was just being playful, but you needed not his teasing but his empathy. You didn't know what to reply, and you absolutely didn't want to come off as sensitive, so you decided not to reply. You left him on read, indirectly saying you did not like what he had said.
As you lay in bed, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the day on your shoulders. You had been feeling overwhelmed with school and work, and his teasing had only added to your mounting stress. You closed your eyes, hoping to calm your racing heart.
You fully broke down, curled up in your favorite blanket for a solid 30 minutes. Sobbing quietly with the lights turned out, you found yourself replaying the conversation in your head. You didn't know why his words had gotten to you so much, but you couldn't shake the feeling of hurt.
Your phone suddenly rang, and your boyfriend's name displayed. You hesitantly grabbed your phone but answered it anyway. You had not noticed that he video called you, so your full-on crying face was shown on his screen, and you quickly put it away from you.
"Oh y/n," you hear him call from the other line. "What, are you gonna make fun of me now?" you gently said, not having the energy to sassily ask him.
"Absolutely not, princess. Can you please show me your face?" he requested. Though you were confused by his sudden seriousness, you complied with his request. "How long have you been crying?" he asked, moving closer to the screen to get a better look at you. You shrugged, not sure how long you had been crying or even why you were crying. "Is it because of what I said?" he asked, and you found yourself crying again for some reason. "I'm so stupid," you heard him mumble.
"I'm so sorry, love. I know I was being insensitive. I promise to read the situation first before teasing you. I'm so sorry. I love you." You looked at him on the screen, and he looked very concerned and sincere. You nodded your head and smiled a bit. "Now, can you please tell me what happened again so that I can give a proper reply? I love you." He stares into the screen.
You felt comforted by his words and sincerity, and proceeded to recount the incident to him, which he listened to attentively and even offered some remarks on. "That professor deserves a good beating. How about I dance challenge him?" he joked, making you laugh and smile.
"I love you," you said, feeling reassured and grateful for him. You knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.
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ahlaway · 6 months
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Okay, but real talk, if Tubbo goes Federation informant for real / hard manipulation, the other islander's will be at fault.
Hear me out:
From the beginning there has been this like. Really unfair view on Tubbo. His chat is scolded for metagaming (as it should be) but he's also talked down to a lot for not just accepting things.
He won't just accept they're trapped because the older islanders say they've tried and failed. He won't just trust islanders who've been trustworthy in the past (ex Bad) who are no longer acting trustworthy. He's trying the same methods other people have tried because he wasn't there for it.
Any nerfs happen? That's Tubbos fault. Never mind that they were bound to nerf create the moment another big create member joined because how they were using it to break puzzles instead of doing the puzzles.
People are constantly picking and blaming him for things and then saying his suspicious because the federation doesn't do anything about him. Despite the fact that the federation does not give that boy a moment of peace, and have not since he arrived.
Meanwhile people like Bad and Pierre have only just begun to experience the horrors, despite how long they've been breaking the rules and causing trouble.
Then you look at interactions he's had and BOI. From his POV alone I wouldn't blame him if he didn't trust any of these people.
(mandatory this is only referring to RP characters.)
Tubbo is an adult. However, he is BARELY and adult, and that is something that is important to note, and I don't mine saying with his "i'm minor coded" joke. Like, as someone approaching 30 I can't imagine interacting with a 19 year old the same way I would someone near my age. So keep that in mind for my thinking going forward.
He's pulled from the ice and a few days later he's approached by a crazy bear with a gun and the power of create that tells him he HAS to do a task. One that will betray someone he's made friends with and an egg. He tries to refuse and the bear starts shooting.
So he does it, thinking he has no choice.
Then two men, who are like, MVP, highly respected, defenders of the island, tell him he should have just died. In fact, he was selfish for not dying on that hill, and that the father of that egg is going to be FURIOUS with him.
To the point that Tubbo is freaking out when Fit catches him trying to fix what he had to break for his task, and make things right.
Is it any wonder he thought he was capital D dead when he "lost" one of these men's eggs?
Now jump cut.
Boy is pressured by men into spinning a wheel that, lets be honest, probably only had bad outcomes, and then is told it's his fault. HE killed the eggs.
Which leads to local teen burning in lava in a breakdown.
And don't even get me started on the drama that was two men who live in a different zip code losing their minds because local teen does yard renovations.
One of which being someone said teen is convinced kidnapped someone, and has tried to gaslight him about it.
Like, outside of the morning crew, Fred is kind of the best relationship Tubbo's got going for him at the moment.
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ohtobeleah · 6 months
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My Brothers Keeper // Jake Seresin
Summary: Five seconds faster and Jake Seresin wouldn’t be standing in his bedroom telling the love of his life the biggest lie he’d ever told.
Warnings: Relationship breakdown. Jake Seresin x F!reader.
Word Count: 2k
Author Note: Day Four of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Betrayal. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.
Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“You have to stop taking your grief out on me.” There wasn’t an awful lot more Jake Seresin could have done about it. And the only thing he could think of that could fix the situation he found himself in was to go back in time, fly a little faster, and save your brother and what Jake could only describe as your ‘adoptive’ fathers, lives. 
But he couldn’t bend the laws of physics anymore than he could bend time. So, he stayed standing in your living room—watching as you folded up the remaining bits of laundry you’d been neglecting to put away. 
You hadn’t spoken in three very long, very silent days. The home you shared had become a silent battle ground of unspoken fear, grief and anger. You could cut the tension with a knife it had gotten so bad—but Jake gave you the space you so clearly needed. Until now—
“Leave me alone Jake.” 
During those three days all Jake could think about was how he might lose you because he wasn’t a good enough pilot to be able to save Maverick and Rooster. He wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t prepared enough—
Hell he wasn’t brave enough. 
“Okay, I cannot, no matter how much you blame me—no matter how much you ask, no matter how much you criticize, ignore my existence or question me, I cannot bring them back baby.” Jake made his way across the space when you didn’t answer him, he missed the way things used to be before that damned mission. He crouched to his knees across from you—piles of washing kept a little distance. But none of that stopped Jake from tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at him as he spoke. Nothing stopped him from cupping your cheeks in his hands just to run his thumbs across your soft and supple cheeks. 
“I’m right here, I’m right in front of you baby—“ You and Jake had been on rocky rounds since he’d called you to inform you that your brother, Bradley Bradshaw and your uncle or, as some would be more comfortable referring to him as your dad, Pete Mitchell had both been killed during a mission. “Please look at me?” Jake continued to guide your gaze to his eyes. He smiled softly when you finally gave him the time of day. “I’m right here, just talk to me.” 
He had to be the one who told you. 
Jake couldn’t leave that task to anyone else—it was the least he could do, considering he had been the one who’d gone after them. 
“I don’t even know who I’m looking at anymore.” There was a sickening feeling that hadn’t left your body since Jake had told you two of the most important people in your life had both died. “I don’t believe you when you say that you, Hangman, did everything you could to try and save them.” 
You never called Jake Hangman, you knew deep down how much the meaning behind his callsign kept him up at night. But here you were, throwing it right back in his face. 
Jake Seresin thought you loved him, understood who he was to the very bone. Jake thought you trusted him, knew his mind, body and soul. He had a ring tucked away in his bedside table—a Diamond worth more than he could afford. But yet here you were:
Just like all the others who ever came before you. 
Jake thought you were different, that you saw him for who he really was. You were Bradley Bradshaw's little sister, the barista who made the world's most perfect oat milk vanilla lattes and just so happened to work at the coffee stand on base while Jake was stationed in Lemoore. Did he know you were Rooster's little sister? Not initially. Did he back down when he’d connected all the dots? No—he still thought you were just the sweetest thing. 
But now you were sitting right in front of him, folding laundry that you’d neglected, calling him a liar after he’d told you all that he knew and all that he did. 
“I don’t believe you when you say you didn’t hold back, that you did everything you could have to get there in time because I know you—“ Jake had dropped his hand a long time ago at this point. But he still sat there right in front of you and took the metaphorical beating you gave his person, his very being. “And I know that deep down, you and Bradley hated each other with such a passion that as soon as the opportunity came up where you could get rid of him? you took it.” 
It was misguided anguish, Jake knew that. But this was getting a little too personal for his ego to handle. 
“Is that what you really think?” Jake asked softly as he watched you get up off the ground with a huff. You’d promised you wouldn’t cry anymore, but you should have learnt by now not to make promises you couldn’t keep. “Do you really think I hated your brother so much that I'd just let him die?” 
It wasn't just a question of morality, it was a question of character. Just who did you really think Jake was? 
“Don’t walk away from me!” Jake hissed as he got up off the living room floor to follow you. Hell three weeks ago he thought he’d follow you anywhere on earth. Now he wasn’t too sure if you’d even let him. “Y/n! Don’t you dare walk away from me.” 
“Leave me alone Jake!” You spat back as you made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom. “Before I say something I’ll regret.” 
“Oh no honey, let's air out all our grievances now!” It was the condescending tone you didn’t appreciate the most as Jake followed you into your shared bedroom. He slammed the door so hard behind him that it nearly came off its hinges. It made you freeze in your place, the loud obnoxious sound of the door slamming shut rattled in your mind as Jake's footsteps grew heavy as he walked closer and closer to you. “Fucking tell me you don’t mean what you said.” He growled with a disdain in his temperament. “TELL ME!” 
You’d never seen your boyfriend so mad before. Usually Jake was pretty content, but it was clear that your suspicions had struck a raw nerve. 
“You killed my brother.” Was all you said as the backs of your legs hit the side of your bed. “And you killed the only man who was ever remotely my dad.” Jake could see it in your eyes—you believed every word you spoke with enough conviction that he even questioned what the truth of the matter was. “You're meant to be the best! But yet you weren’t good enough to save the two most important men in my life!?” 
“I did everything that I could!” Jake was beginning to lose his damn mind as he pulled at his hair and clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might break. “I love you, I really do but you are taking this too far Y/n—I didn’t kill your family! The enemy did, they were the ones who flew a little faster in better jets with better equipment and they were the ones who fired the missile—NOT ME!” 
Jake knew you didn’t believe him, he knew that you’d already left before you had the guts to say it. He could see it written all over your face like a bad breakup song from the nineties. You couldn’t sleep beside the man who you blame with every fiber of your being for the deaths of your father and brother. 
But you just couldn’t pull the trigger. 
“Is this really how it’s gonna be?” Jake asked as he stepped a little closer, his chest was practically pressed against yours as you held your ground. “You blame me, I deny deny deny until my dying breath and we keep going around in circles like this?” The feeling of Jake's palm against your cheek had your tears welling, his thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek and all those stray hairs were now tucked back behind your ear. “I thought you knew me baby, c’mon, look at me yeah? Do you really think that I didn’t do enough?” 
The silence that lingered spoke volumes. Jake knew right then and there that he had to leave, he had to step away. He couldn’t keep doing this—begging you to remember who he was because you were so clouded by your own grief. 
Never once had you asked if he was okay. Never once had you asked how he was, if he was going alright after getting there just five seconds too late. You never asked if he laid awake at night playing that scenario over and over in his mind—never. You never asked because you didn’t care. You didn’t believe he was an innocent man in all of this. 
“You know what?” But Jake Seresin was good at putting up walls to protect his heart. He was good at playing pretend, playing the part in people’s lives that they needed him to be. It was just easier to be The Hangman than it was to be Jake. Standing before the love of his life realizing that he would always and forever be remembered as the man who killed her brother was a role he never thought he’d play: 
But for you he’d do it, and he’d do it well. 
“Fine—I admit it.” Jake stepped back to put some distance between the two of you. He knew he’d never be so close to you again. It broke his heart into a million pieces but if this was who you really needed him to be he’d be that person. “I could have done more, but I chose not to.”
“Jake—“ You’d been thinking about it for days, the possibility, the probability that Jake had more involvement than he was leading you to believe. But hearing him actually say it threw everything you thought you knew out the window, along with your relationship. 
“All your brother ever did was sit on that fucking perch of his and the one time he needed to get off? He wasn’t nearly capable enough to get himself out of a tough situation.” Jake had never hated Bradley, sure they had their tiffs and differences over the years but never did he ever hate the guy. “And Mav? His arrogance finally caught up with him! You should take some fucking comfort in the fact they’re both with your dead daddy now—it’s one big family fucking reunion because I chose to not take the shot when I so clearly had it!” 
It was the biggest betrayal you’d ever experienced. 
“Get out!” 
“What! You’ve been blaming me for everything since before the funerals and now you wanna stand there and pretend you didn’t see it fucking coming?” Jake scoffed as he made his way across the room to collect a few things he’d need before showing up to Coyote's front door with his tail between his legs. 
It was the biggest betrayal Jake had ever experienced. 
“Leave! Get out of my house! Get out of my life before you have a chance to take anything else away from me!” You had never felt such a heartbreak, felt such a loss than when you finally heard Jake admit it. He could have saved them, but he chose not to for his own selfish reasons. 
But Jake was a good man, he had his morals and his own heart to protect. He’d never forgiven himself for not being just a fraction faster—because when he saw that F-14 explode with two of the most important people in your life inside as his thumb grazed the trigger—he knew he’d lost you too.
“Trust me Bradshaw, you’ve got nothing left to fucking lose.”  ***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~***~
Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt
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highball66 · 6 months
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What Leon said to Manuela at the end- very creepy and yeah, victim-blaming. Like the way it was worded sounded like it came from a horror antagonist. 😭
But I also thought of how he once again, told someone to keep on living for the sake of others who have died.
That honestly kind of concerns me because it sounds like Leon only sees value in his life due to others around him, especially those who died- especially with how he worded it.
Oh based on the way it was phrased but in OJ and Damnation, I do wholeheartedly believe that Leon has no self-esteem, his self-worth is entirely based on how "valuable" he is to others. Character analysis ahead:
TW// mentions of suicide
He was kidnapped by the government and stripped of any and all agency he had. Apart from just the typical lack of agency in the military (they tell you what to wear, how you can cut your hair, where you're going to sleep, what you're going to eat, etc.) Leon never got a choice in joining this program, he was forced to do so to save Sherry. So fresh off the worst day of his life (up until that point), he's thrown into years of mentally and physically strenuous training against his will all while the government dangles the safety of a child over his head.
And being the young rookie who had no military experience prior to being dumped in special forces training with men who'd been training for years probably didn't do wonders for his self-esteem either, especially when the commanding officer is calling him pretty boy. Realistically, I think it's definitely possible that the other people on that team called him much worse, but that's just my own speculation. And we know he was suicidal during this time too, and the only reason he didn't go through with it was because of Sherry.
From there, he becomes the government's greatest weapon against bio-terror. They say jump and he has to ask how high, otherwise they'll kill him and Sherry both. They carelessly throw him at problems they often had a hand in creating, expecting him to cover up their messes. And Leon fully recognizes this too. Apart from Vendetta and Death Island where it was pretty much explicitly spelled out, it's shown in-motion in Damnation. The US government comes in and bombs the ESR, killing god knows how many innocent people that Leon just finished tried to save from bioterroism, all so they could invade and take over the country. They'd literally created this entire plan around fake-pulling Leon from the mission and expecting him to go off the rails because he wanted to desperately save the people there-- they literally weaponized his trauma and his humanity. (I think it's also important to note that Hunnigan didn't know this was their endgame either.)
So when we look at what he said to both Manuela and Sasha, which was in essence the same thing-- you can't kill yourself because you have to honor the memory of those who died by continuing to live-- I think it's clear that Leon's not really living for himself. We see that in Vendetta, when Leon was at his lowest, where he literally says "today is a good day to die," during the fight with Arias 'cause he assumed Arias was going to kill him. And he didn't care, he wanted to die.
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He feels so much survivor's guilt for not being able to save everyone all of the time, and he bases his self-worth entirely on his ability to help everyone else. That's why he hits such a low in Vendetta, because "instead of seeing an end to this shit, it just keeps getting worse," and this is coming off the heels of him essentially having a breakdown in the morgue and having to kill the squad he was in charge of again. He thinks he got them killed the first time when the bomb went off, although logically he knows there was nothing he could've done. But then when they are resurrected and zombified in the morgue, he's forced to literally kill them with guns to their heads. And even by the end of Vendetta, he's still not doing great. He's come to believe that it doesn't matter what he wants to what life he wanted to have, he doesn't get to make those decisions, and he has to accept that for what it is.
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It seems like he's doing a little bit better in Death Island at least. We know he isn't drinking, and Matt Mercer talked in interviews about how he has a support system now with Chris and the others, people he can rely on. But the fact that it took Chris finding him drunk and hungover at 9 am (remember: Leon didn't want to be found, he went out there to hide) for him to finally get any kind of support group speaks volumes to how much he suffered in silence for years.
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queerxqueen · 2 years
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Why Byler is the Only Logical Outcome of Stranger Things 4: A Necessary Breakdown of Will, Mike, and Eleven’s Narrative Arcs
Buckle in besties, this is gonna be a long one. 
I’m going to preface this by saying I’ve been a die-hard Stranger Things fan since 2016 and I’ve watched every season as it’s dropped, reading theories and analysis between seasons. I adored Mileven for seasons 1 and 2. 
However, I truly believe that, from what we’ve seen of Mike, Will, and Eleven’s individual and combined arcs over seasons 3 and 4 Vol. 1, the only outcome that makes logical and narrative sense to the story Stranger Things is trying to tell is a Mileven breakup with Byler endgame. 
I’m not going to go into extended metaphors and background details, or even what actors have said in interviews; we’re talking about making sense of characters’ actions and words from a narrative standpoint. As a lifelong writer and storyteller, I’m trying to be more objective. And, assuming the Duffer brothers want to follow satisfying emotional arcs for not only their characters but their characters’ relationships, signs are pointing toward Byler. 
Let’s break it down. 
Guiding Principles of Narrative
First, let’s talk about what I mean when I’m talking about character arcs and things that make sense narratively. It’s important to note a few things before moving forward. These are key principles that inform the viewpoint of a storyteller and how I’m analyzing this. 
Everything has meaning and everything is intentional. 
Characters start a story with a flaw, go on a journey that forces them to confront that flaw, and end the story by showing how that journey has forced them to change and grow.
Forcing a character to confront inner conflict and grow from it is an essential ingredient of storytelling. Characters must change as a result of plot events.
Eleven
We have to talk about Eleven first. People tend to think Byler shippers hate El and Mileven, but it’s important to note we’re not talking about what characters deserve, or what we think of them, we’re talking about what makes sense narratively. I adore Eleven and want her to have a happily ever after as much as anybody, but I do not see that happening with Mike. 
In season 4, we see Eleven feeling useless without her powers. She’s bullied and doesn’t know how to stand up for herself. She thinks her boyfriend only loves her when she’s a superhero.
We see her go on a long act two journey to recover her powers. It follows that in Act 3, we will see her return and save the day, likely fuelled by the support of her friends and possibly even by her love for Mike. 
However, this has not forced Eleven to confront her fear and learn the truth, that she is not useless without her powers. Even with a sweet monologue from Mike, it would feel empty and unfulfilling for him to confess his love to her only after she returns to the action hero version of herself. Eleven would always have doubts about whether he loves her for who she is. 
So what would force Eleven to confront her inner conflict? 
Eleven is spending this season learning about who she is, and what she is capable of, in every sense. It’s important to note that El’s most important growth moments happen when she is away from Mike. Season 2’s Kali episode, season 3’s breakup, season 4’s adventures in Nevada. When Mike is with her, such as in season 3, her growth stunts; they both become accessories to the other rather than unique characters with arcs. The focus becomes about their relationship. 
Additionally, she and Mike have been in a relationship for a portion of her formative developmental years, and the rest of those years were spent growing up in a lab. Eleven has not had the freedom to fully grow as a person individually. We see this in season 3 with Max encouraging her to be her own person. This is a consistent pattern and the show is making a clear argument that Eleven needs to develop as a person before she can develop in a relationship.
I do believe Eleven loves Mike. However, I think by the end of Volume 1 she has already realized Mike doesn’t love her the way she wants him to. She isn’t stupid. I think this is especially apparent in the scene where she is being driven away from Mike and does not look at him as he promises to make things right, talking about her being arrested but alluding to their fight. She’s already resigned herself: she doesn’t believe him. 
Staying with Mike would mean choosing the familiar path where she is not forced to change. Ultimately, if her arc is about discovering herself, standing up for herself, and realizing she is worthy of unconditional love, I believe that she needs to break up with Mike in order to put herself first. 
Mike
The most obvious argument against Byler is that Mike loves Eleven, so he can’t be gay. 
Mike does love Eleven. He cares deeply for her. He shows it every season. Mileven stans, I get it. But it truly seems like this season’s developments are preparing us for the fact that that love is platonic-with-a-capital-P. While Mike could be bisexual, I believe he is gay and repressing himself, staying with El because it is safe, and pushing Will away because he’s afraid of his own feelings toward Will. He’s trying desperately to play the role of the Good Straight Boyfriend but it’s not quite working.
Some might think this is far-fetched, so I’ll back up and talk more objectively. In season 4 vol 1, we see certain inconsistencies in Mike’s actions compared to his actions in previous seasons. Our attention is supposed to be drawn to these seemingly separate behaviors: he can’t tell Eleven he loves her to her face, despite having said it about her in season 3. And, he’s brushing off his best friend Will—that brutal hug—despite being previously characterized as a loyal friend who puts Will first—such as when he went through the rain to apologize to Will after their fight in season 3, a time during which he was also fighting with Eleven. 
These are two very distinct differences we as the audience are supposed to notice. They can each be explained away individually: he can’t tell El he loves her because of his parents’ loveless marriage, or because he has a hard time expressing his feelings because of toxic masculinity, or any number of things. He’s brushing off his best friend because he’s either uncomfortable with Will’s queerness or his crush, or simply because they’ve grown apart after a year apart. 
These could make sense individually, but we aren’t meant to see them individually, we are meant to see them as a result of some root character attribute. We’re not explicitly told what root flaw or misbelief is informing Mike’s behavior in Vol. 1—not in the way we’re more directly told how Eleven feels like a monster or how Will is afraid to express his feelings for Mike. Instead, we are meant to guess. What root belief could the character have that explains both of his strained relationships in Volume 1? What explanation addresses all of his strange behaviors simultaneously, rather than one at a time? 
It’s also important to note that Mike primarily ignores Will when he’s around Eleven; when just Mike and Will are together, Mike goes gentle and kind in a way that feels starkly contrasted to the way he acts around Eleven this season, and especially contrasted to the way he treats Will at the airport. If Mike is truly just homophobic (which I doubt) or just has a hard time expressing his feelings, why then is he so able to express his feelings toward Will?
Additionally, if his arc is simply to learn how to speak his feelings, and it culminates to him confessing his love to Eleven, this would truly be a disappointing and underwhelming arc for Mike. How does that move him forward, challenge him, help him change as a character? Nothing changes because that is the same emotional climax for him as in season 3. 
Conversely, him accepting his queerness and admitting his feelings toward Will would force him to reflect, learn, and grow in a way that continuing his relationship with Eleven simply doesn’t. It would move the story forward in an interesting way that impacts the dynamics of the whole party rather than maintaining the status quo. 
Mike’s journey is not so much about him expressing himself as it is about being honest with himself. I’m certain Mike cares deeply for Eleven and doesn’t want to hurt her, but he must acknowledge this truth about himself and who he is in order to grow.
Will
Will is the easiest to tackle of the three, because his crush on Mike is much more overt than Mike’s feelings for Will or the impending doom of Mileven. In season 4, we see him crushing on Mike and afraid to confess his feelings. 
We don’t need to address all of Will’s queer-coding over the seasons, but just in season 4, we can acknowledge the painting, the longing gazes, the jealousy, the coded conversation about “scary … to say how you really feel,” emphasized by a fear of being rejected with “because what if they don’t like the truth?”
It follows that his arc is about getting up the nerve to confess his feelings, with the resolution being him learning to accept himself, and that his friends love him no matter what. This could theoretically happen by Mike gently rejecting him but reassuring that they’re always friends—but that’s not interesting. 
Why would that matter? How would Mike grow from that? How does that impact any of the other characters? It doesn’t. If Will is rejected, his season 4 storyline is almost entirely isolated and unnecessary, with no consequences or impact on the rest of the group. It’s lazy storytelling and I don’t believe the Duffers would do it if it weren’t connected to a greater storyline at play. If his confession results in requited feelings, it would impact not just Mike and Will individually but also Eleven and the Party at large. In short, it would create much more interesting consequences and tension, and I can’t imagine why the Duffers would have written Will’s storyline in if it weren’t going to play out in a way that had that greater impact. 
So basically…
For all characters involved, Byler endgame makes the most narrative sense as a natural result of the setup of Volume 1. I truly am optimistic about this queer couple getting a happy ending and hope that this explains the frenzy I’m in right now.
People argue that they wouldn’t trash Mileven after having built it up for three seasons; I would argue that they built it up for 2, and now have spent 2 more breaking it down. Others argue that it would be coming out of nowhere; I would argue that you might have been watching the show with heteronormative tinted goggles.
I could write so much more about Byler making narrative sense with the greater themes of coming-of-age and self-discovery, and I could easily break down every season 3 and 4 scene in painstaking detail, but I think the most important argument that could be made is that Byler is truly the best narrative outcome for each individual character based on what we’ve seen so far.
Anyways, send me Byler asks :)
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ryndicate · 1 year
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Dangerous Deeds ⨳ Hanagaki Takemitchi 
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Takemitchi shares with you that he's never had sex without a condom, so you decide to show him. But if your brother finds out, you're both dead.
notes: my first fic on this blog and I'm actually super nervous, hope you like it! Toman was formed at 18+
warnings: female reader, kinda infidelity, creampie, no dynamic but reader has the lead of things, heavy implications of a possessive relationship with big brother (implied incest)
By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult content and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI
Rules & Main Links
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A knock on the front door interrupts your minor breakdown over which shirt you were going to pick to meet your date come to a half-thankful, half-annoyed halt.
You take one last look at the skirt you'd chosen, short and flowy, before grabbing randomly from the options spread over your bed and pulling it over your head as you pad down the hallway.
You know it's not him, because you told him explicitly that you'd meet him out. 
A peek out the peephole gives you a clear view of fake blond and shining blue eyes, and you sigh as you undo the lock and pull the door open.
"Takemichi-kun?"
"Is Draken here? I gotta talk to him," the first division captain asks, giving you a smile and shy once over. 
"He's out with Mikey I think."
"Is it cool if I wait for him? It's important."
Your smile turns pained. If he mentioned to your brother that you left while he was here, Ken might ask him where you went and that's the last thing you need. But if you turned him away, you'd get in trouble for being rude to one of the captains. 
"Yeah, come in." Trying to hide your grimace, you back up to let him in and make your way down the hall. You send a text letting your date know that you might be a little late.
A message pings your phone as you pad into the kitchen and you pause to read it, a small genuine smile forming on your face.
You tap out a response, unaware of the shadow at your shoulder. 
"Does Draken know about your boyfriend?" Takemichi asks curiously, reading over your shoulder.
You whirl on him, grabbing his face and shoving it away. He yelps as he stumbles back. "No! And you better not tell him, you hear me? Nii nii says it's not allowed."
"Nii nii?" Takemichi looks bewildered to hear the term, his cheeks pinking up the longer he looks at you. "I've never heard you call him that before."
You feel your face heat up at your mistake. "Don't, it's just a habit. I've called him that since I was little. He doesn't want me saying it around the others so I don't."
"It's really cute," he admits shyly. 
"Shut up! That's exactly why he told me not to. Forget you heard it." You glare at him, doing your best to keep the petulance out of your tone. "Just wait in the living room. I don't know when but he'll come back at some point."
"Alright then."
You sigh as he ducks his head and shuffles back the way you told him. He's been here before so he knows where to go. You're trying not to feel bad for snapping at him. It's his fault anyways, he shouldn't have been so nosy.
Takemichi looks up in surprise when you flop down on the couch next to him, shoving a can of soda into his hand.
"What're you—"
"I'll sit with you 'til N— 'til Ken comes home. Don't make a big deal of it," you mumble, tucking your legs beneath you as you lean on the arm of the couch.
"Okay." He grins at you, and you sniff, turning away from him and hiding yourself in your phone again. Stupid brat.
You hear the tab hiss open and hide a smile, sending another text before turning on the TV to make things less awkward. 
But one show turns into two, and you feel yourself getting antsy. Every now and then you hear him get a series of texts, feeling him glance at you repeatedly. It's hard not to wonder why he doesn't just call your brother.
You're conscious of his eyes on you as you get off the couch and disappear down the hallway. 
The phone rings slowly as you stand by, leg bouncing impatiently, waiting for your brother to pick up. There's the telltale click as he picks up the phone but you don't give him the chance to talk.
"Nii nii, when are you coming home?"
"Huh?" He sounds distracted, and you can hear the sounds of shouts and chatter in the background. 
"When are you coming home? There's—" 
"It might be a bit. We're still finishing up."
"You don't know when?" There's no point in hiding the disappointment in your tone. Your brother will think it's because you miss him, and of course you do, but it also means that you'll have to sneak out tonight if you want to meet your boyfriend to avoid pesky questions of what you're up to. That's a task that's way harder than it sounds. As hard as it is to sneak out, you're an even worse liar, at least when it comes to Draken.
"'M sorry, it's one of those things where we won't know we're done 'til we're done, so I don't know tonight. Could be soon, could be late, 'K sis?" he sighs.
"Okay… at least let me know when you figure it out. Takemichi—"
"Oi, Draken! That your little sister? Let me say hi."
There's a chorus of laughter, muffling the sound of your brother growling and an aborted shout before you hear your brother give you a gruff goodbye and the line goes silent.
You stomp back into the living room, the blond's eyes tracking your movement.
"Ken's gonna be awhile," you inform him grumpily. "You might have better luck going out and looking for him."
"I'll wait just a little longer."
"Suit yourself."
Trying to cover your not so subtle sulking, you turn your attention back to the TV. It's not that you don't like Takemichi—it's just that with him here, you can't go anywhere. You've spent enough time with the first division captain to see why everyone likes him, even if you don't know him super well. Your brother talks highly of him at least, but teases him just as much. And it's always a good thing when your brother teases someone, it means he cares. 
Another hour passes and you wonder how much longer his 'little longer' is going to be. You're starting to get bored. 
"So, um…"
You turn hopefully to see blue eyes flash away from you just as quickly.
"So you've—Uh, I mean—" he stutters before trailing off, the tips of his ears turning red.
"What?" You stare at him expectantly, bemused. What's his deal? 
"Nevermind, I shouldn't be asking," he mutters sheepishly, scratching at his neck.
Well now you feel curiosity digging its claws into you. You spin on the couch to face him, eyes narrowed. "Spit it out, Takemitchy-kun."
His eyes widen, caught off guard by your demand. "I just, in the kitchen, your texts," he stammers softly. 
"So?" Your head tilts curiously, trying to remember what was on your screen at the time.
"I just saw that you guys don't use condoms," Takemichi spits out in a rush, looking painfully embarrassed. 
"Huh? Yeah we do." You deny resolutely, cheeks burning as you hope he hadn't seen enough of the texts to know what you'd been planning. 
"B-but—" Takemichi protests loudly, "you told him not to bring them 'cause it's a safe day' didn't you?"
Damn it. You didn't want him to know that, in case he ever did break and run his mouth to your brother. You know it's stupid, but on your safe days you like to skip the condoms. It feels good; you like the messy warmth, being able to feel the heat of your boyfriend's dick. He’s the only one you can talk into skipping them.
"That's only sometimes, okay? We usually use them," you mutter, self-conscious. "I'm not stupid."
"O-oh, that's not what I meant. Sorry."
Takemichi looks a little dejected so you sigh, and he glances up, perking up a little when he sees you're not mad. "I was just curious. What it's like I mean."
"What do you mean, what it's like?" You parrot back at him scooching closer to him as he laughs nervously. "Are you a virgin, Takemitchy?"
"No!" He says it so swiftly that your eyes narrow but his eyes widen earnestly, blushing at the turn of the conversation. "Really, I'm not. When me and Hina were still together, we did it."
"Oh, okay." You nod, remembering hearing some of your brother's friends talk about her. You remember hearing about the breakup too, but you don't remember the details. Ken said not to pry about it. 
"So what did you mean then?"
Takemichi clears his throat uncomfortably. "I've never not used a… you know."
"Ohhh." Understanding finally dawns your features. "You've never gone raw."
He sputters at your bluntness before taking a breath.
"Hina always wanted to use condoms, before," he mumbles, looking away embarrassed. After a beat his head snaps back towards you, his words tumbling. "Not like I mind though, if it's what she wanted! I'm just curious, that's all. Always wondered what it feels like."
Takemichi freezes as you crawl closer to him on the couch, your eyes suddenly filled with interest.
"Do you want to find out?" 
You're being impulsive like always; your boyfriend is a fling at best, a fun thrill for you. He's the only one who lets you feel like you're the one in control. If Draken ever found out about him, that'd be the end of that, so you didn't really get attached. You never promised him exclusivity either, not like you could with your brother and all. But it's your body and the way things are looking, you're not going to make it out tonight so why not play around?
"You wanna have sex with me?" He blinks at you, dumbfounded. There's a sparkle of something unreadable in his gaze. Something like guilt, or maybe relief. 
"No," you snort, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. He looks frightened and eager all at once as you inch his fingers under the hem of your skirt. "But you can use my pussy if you really want to know that bad. It won't be like sex, I'm just letting you see what it's like."
Takemichi swallows. He knows this is dangerous, but your thigh is so warm and soft under his palm, and as you shuffle closer, your sweet scent creates a crack in his self-control. He can already feel his dick getting hard.
"What do you say?" You whisper.
Your hand ghosts over the bulge of his pants, forcing a groan past his lips and sending him tumbling into his own temptation. He's nodding before he can even think about it. 
"Yeah, okay." He leans forward, his breath on your lips. 
You giggle and put your hand over his mouth, pushing him back. "I didn't say you could kiss me, though." 
"R-right…"
He watches, licking his lips as you lay back on the couch and pull your skirt up, exposing the simple blue cotton panties beneath. You had planned to change into something cuter before you left, but oh well. Takemichi doesn't look like he seems to mind—he's watching raptly as you rub at your clit over the fabric.
Takemichi looks like he doesn't know what to do with himself, still staring as the damp patch on your panties grows bigger and bigger. His dick is throbbing in the confines of his pants, palming over it to soothe the ache.
Finally you give a little sigh that makes his pulse skip, and reach to slide your panties down your legs, before spreading them. "Whenever you're ready, Takemitchy-kun."
He stands quickly and undoes his jeans, pushing them down and pulling his dick free from his boxers, situating himself carefully between your thighs. He grips it at the base before pumping his fist over it a few times, squeezing the precome from the tip almost reflexively and coating it over the shaft. It's pretty, smooth save for the single thick vein on the underside; you're pleased to see it's average in length and girth, you didn't really want to stretch yourself or have him do it either. 
Takemichi shivers as he rubs his through your folds, the sticky warmth making him feel like he might be in over his head. He looks at you again, blue eyes shining with a mixture of longing and conflict. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"Mhm. You can stop if you want, I'm not gonna make you."
"N-no, I wanna feel it," he mumbles, a deep flush appearing down his neck. He ruts against your pussy again before taking a deep breath before pressing the blunt tip at the entrance of your dripping pussy and starting to push in. 
"Oh."
He moans at the tight, wet heat that envelops his length, feeling like the warmth is going straight from his dick to his gut. A shiver works up his spine as he pushes deeper, sinking in slowly until his hips meet the soft back of your thighs.
You watch him, feeling a tingling rush of pleasure at the dumbfounded look on his face. He feels nice but it's nowhere close to overwhelm you, just a comfortable pressure in your slick walls. His eyes have fallen closed, his lips parted, his eyebrows pinched together—it's so cute, but you stomp down the urge to giggle, knowing that wouldn't be good for him right now
"Feel nice?" 
"Uh huh," he breathes, his eyes blinking open to stare down at you. It's like he's seeing you in a whole new light. He rocks into you experimentally, moaning softly. "It feels amazing. You're so wet 'n warm. Can—" His mouth closes and he stills within you. You almost feel like you can feel him pulsing in you.
"What?" 
"Can I… is it okay if I keep going?" Takemichi whispers, looking strained.
You reach for your phone, unlocking it. "You can do what you want, Takemitchy-kun. You're using me, remember? I don't mind."
"Thank you."
He says it so quietly you almost don't hear it, but you have to bite back a moan when he starts to thrust into you, slowly at first, before he finds an even pace that soon has him moaning every other breath. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of your hips, pressing hard into the couch cushions, his glassy eyes locked on where you're connected.
You can't deny that he sounds pretty, and he's not half bad at this. He feels good, not mind melting or anything, but you told him to use you and he is. He's focusing on his own pleasure, but as you scroll through your texts, you start to wonder what it'd be like if you'd said otherwise. He said he'd only ever been with Hina, but how often? You glance at the time, noting that he's at least lasted several minutes. 
A small sigh escapes your lips as his dick throbs inside you, hiding a smile behind your phone at the whimper tugging at his throat. 
The fact that he liked this, getting off on you ignoring him and letting him use your pussy for his own pleasure—you can't help the way it's getting you hot. You feel powerful. The way he's feeling right now is only possible because you're letting him. 
The added danger of not knowing when your older brother is coming home is making things even better. Who knows how mad he'd get if he found out you were letting his subordinate defile you like this.
You wonder who'd be in more trouble. A shiver runs up your spine, your breath shortening with the thrill.
"F-fuck you keep getting tighter—" Takemichi's voice breaks as you peek up at him.
"I can make it even tighter if you want, I've been trying to relax so you wouldn't finish early." 
Takemichi chokes as you give an experimental clench, his hips stuttering to a halt as he feels the tight squeeze of your walls. You've been making a conscious effort not to clamp down on his dick, not wanting him to think you're paying him much mind.
"No it's okay," he breathes, his voice half an octave higher. He repositions his legs, spreading yours a little wider as he begins sliding in and out of your pussy again. "It's okay, this is good. Feels so good I—I don't wan'ta come yet."
"Doesn't it feel better like this though?" You smile at him sweetly as you do it again and his grip tightens on your thighs, surprising you.
"Yes." He practically hisses the word through gritted teeth, blue eyes desperate as you rhythmically clench around him each time he pulls out, your pussy sopping now. He doesn't slow down this time, his thrusts getting quicker, wet sounds getting louder as your juices coat his groin. "Fuck, but if you don't, hah, don't s-stop that, I'm gonna, ahn, fuck g'na come—"
Takemitchi shakes his head when you keep it up, and you watch with a thrill as the resignation of pleasure crosses his face, unable to stop the squeak that escapes your lips as he pulls your hips into his thrusts now. You're resisting the urge to reach down and play with your clit as pleasure starts sparking under your own skin, and he's chanting curses under his breath as his eyes flutter closed, fucking you hard and fast before he stiffens, the light muscle tone of his stomach tensing and rippling as he comes undone.
You almost regret that you don’t get to cum—almost.
As he coats your walls with several thick ropes of white, Takemichi's stuttering groans overpower the sharp sound of the front door unlocking. 
But the unmistakable sound of your brother's voice coming down the hall, and more than one pair of footsteps, has you both frozen in terror.
"Sis? I'm home."
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Part 2?
© All rights reserved to @ryndicate. Do not modify, translate or repost.
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fullmachinegirl · 3 months
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Hazel headcannons according to me. also im sorry if this is badly written English is not my first language and this was written at 2am so… enjoy
-i think she had like a rlly hardcore fnaf phase and knows all the lore and was excited about the movie but kinda disappointed that there wasn’t so much gore, also i feel like she dressed up as bunny for Halloween in fifth grade and everyone thought she was just a normal bunny
-she’s a boygenius fan duh, i mean what says lesbian loser more than being a boygenius stan…
-i think she likes bugs and isn’t afraid of them, like she was the type of girl that would pick them up and tell people in kindergarten to not step on ants bc they had a family
-she watched the walking dead but stopped when glenn died bc he was her favorite.
-she’s a harry potter fan and she would make all her friends take the hogwarts houses quizz even if they’d never watched the movies (shes a hufflepuff fight me) also cries everytime she watches dobby die
-i feel like she’s very organized bc she likes to take notes about everything so organization its very important to her and i feel like her room would be really tidy and organized
-has a new hyper fixation over food every month like if its fucking plump season or shit like that she would just eat that until she’s sick of it
-plays with legos, and has a big box with every lego set she ever had mixed together, but she would also have her favorite sets in shelf’s displayed in her room
-she absolutely has the highest taekwondo belt rank she took that shit seriously and i feel like she loved karate kid as a child but her mom got her into taekwondo (i know karate and taekwondo are two different things)
-her favorite holiday is halloween and loves to dress up even though sometimes people don’t get what she’s dressed up as, and gets sad when people tell her she’s too old to trick and treat
-big true crime fan, idk just seems like it.
-she definitely watched those fucking rapunzel x mavis videos on youtube and obscure shit like that, she watched youtube unsupervised
-had a pet fish but died after a week and she got so sad she cried for weeks bc she felt terrible and watched nemo
-she has a minecraft two week phase every month and probably has a world with josie and pj
-has a weird thing about socks, if the fabric or stitching itches her she has a full breakdown about that, she is very specific about what socks she wears
-has a collection of rocks in a box titled “cool rocks”
-i feel like the majority of her closet is thrifted although she has the money to buy expensive or brand new clothes she thinks thrifting them gives her more originality and also saves money to buy some explosives or shit to make bombs idk😭
xx
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phoenixlionme · 14 days
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NOTE: I know that Charlie is looking at her father in the gif, I tried to find a pic or gif of her looking the other way but couldn't find it. So, I decided to use this given this is in the same song/scene.
I love this brief Chaggie moment in "More Than Anything" because of how Vaggie's shot in the song is so distinct from the others - Angel Dust, Husk, and Sir Pentious are in the darkness and even though Alastor and Niffty show up after Vaggie's turn, they are also in the shadows of the song. But Vaggie? She is entirely surrounded by the bright light. While Charlie does care and love everyone in the Hotel, Vaggie holds a special place in her heart. And I like to discuss the importance of this shot in three separate forms:
Foreshadowing - Given that it's revealed that Vaggie is a Fallen Angel, her being bather in light serves as a subtle bit of foreshadowing. Angels are often attributed to light and brightness.
Symbolism - As stated in the above paragraph, Vaggie is the one of the main cast featured most prominently in the light for this song; and from Charlie's POV, given the most focus as well. This all makes sense because it has been Vaggie who has always supported and believed in Charlie's dreams and ideas; while also being honest and realistic. Initially, the ONLY one in all of Hell to believe in her. While we don't know their full story about their relationship (aside from their first meeting), I hope (and feel) it'll get explored in Season 2. I think Charlie was in a dark place when she found Vaggie - mother gone, estranged from father, treated like a joke from her citizens, and it's implied she doesn't have any close friends aside from her parents and Razzle and Dazzle; not having a proper support system can wear on one's soul. Then, she rescues an injured Sinner (Angel); they start off as friends then girlfriends, and at some point Vaggie hears Charlie's dream' and maybe the Princess is once again expecting her newfound friend/crush to say it's impossible. But it doesn't happen; instead, Vaggie supports the idea. And Charlie is most likely blown away and falls a more in love with the one-eyed protector. I know given Vaggie's subtle moth theme, people say that she's drawn to Charlie's light, which is true, but so is the opposite - Charlie was drawn by Vaggie's light - not in the literal sense given her Angel heritage but in the symbolic light of hope.
Future Predictions?- I like to think that the aftermath of Season 1 which included Sir Pentious' death (until she learns of his ascension), stress from the Hotel, Lute's possible retribution, Lilith's possible chaotic return, the Vees' aggression, etc. It's all going to take a toll on Charlie, possibly pushing her optimism. Maybe leading to an emotional breakdown like she had in Season 1, but this time? Much worse. But it'll be Vaggie that guides her towards the light - another subtle possible foreshadowing was in the More Than Anything reprise where Vaggie pulls Charlie from the dark side of the hallway to the light.
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