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luvly-writer · 1 year

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“You are my sunshine”

Part 8: And so we meet again.

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Jason Todd x Latina Reader

Social Media Au

Warnings: none

Series: ongoing

Author’s note: university is a bitch that butchers my time and energy 🥹. Sorry for the slow updates, it will get more often with uni. Thank you for all the love you give this series, I get so so so excited everytime I see your feedback!

REMEMBER! Written part under pictures!

Taglist: @lorosette @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @milas-teapot

series masterlist:

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-your dress

-your mask

-your heels

-your makeup

-you’re free to choose your hair <3

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You were a wreck. An absolute and complete wreck. who tf said this was a great idea! OH! Yeah, Nola...you were just another girl tangled up with Burce Wayne and his horde of children. Soon this would all be over and the small glimpse you had of what it is like to live a lavish adventurous life would be just a memory. You are snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. The driver was waiting for you. You put on your mask to make sure that no one would recognize you, not even the driver. When you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised to find Alfred there. Oh, Alfred, your trusty friend Alfred. You give him a tight smile and he offers his arm to lead you to the car. It was a black Mercedes with brown leather seats. Classy. He opens the door and you sit down. Inside, you take off your mask because you don’t mind Alfred seeing you. Once he gets in, he doesn’t start the car straight away. “Everything alright Miss Y/n?” he asks with genuine concern. he turns to look at you and you can see actual worry. “I’m aware that my lot can be quite a handful sometimes, just say the word and you won’t have to go, I’ll take care of everything.” he offers. You feel some tension leave your body and give him a sincere smile. “Thank you for the offer, Alfred, that is very kind of you, but don’t worry, I will be alright, plus I am truly excited to be there,” you respond. He nods and smiles, “Alright, Miss Yn, but if any moment of the night, you do feel overwhelmed, do not be afraid to call on me, I’ll bail you out and bring you home.” He finishes with a wink and you laugh. The butler never fails to soothe your nerves. It reminds you of your first Scholars Gala, the night you met Alfred. He tumbled upon you, nearing a panic attack because you were one of the speakers of the night. You had to give a speech on giving gratitude to Mister Wayne for his generosity and basically make yourself presentable so that other rich folks would sponsor you and want to work with you in the future. You were the youngest speaker, this being your first and you had to make an impression with them if you wanted to keep on being invited and sponsored along your career. The problem was that some rich asshole had already made a comment about the pretty young Latina thing, this being you, and said that he would love to sponsor you so that he could have a new trophy in his collection when you were socializing. That sent you to straight panic because a) he only saw you as an exotic catch, b) the way he looked at you meant NOTHING good and c) they weren’t taking it serious. You were a very young, new into the game, woman and they were already thinking of taking advantage of you. So you ran and crashed into Alfred. Oh, Alfred. He saw you, hysterics and all, and took you to the kitchens. He helped wipe your tears and listened to your fears of facing prejudice for being a Latina woman and not being taken seriously because of your race, youth, and beauty. Then he helped you prepare and talked you into being confident in who you were. To not mind those rich scums and not let them define you or have any influence on your future. He assured you that you would be and do amazing. Thanks to him, everything went smoothly after that night. You snap out of your memories when the car comes to a sudden stop. You are at the gates of Wayne Manor, the place of the Ball and suddenly your nerves are back. You look at Alfred and he waits for you to say something expectantly. “Thank you, Alfred, for everything”. Alfred smiles and reminds you to wear your mask, which you start to put on. It’s showtime.

Knowing that you were already nervous, Alfred decides to take the car to the backdoor. You look at him questionably and he winks again and lets a small laugh. OH! He’s helping you with the game. Instead of leaving you where the paparazzi were at the main entrance, where everyone surely was waiting for you, he led you to the back, where the gardens were. The place where you could enter and exit without being noticed. “Wise man”, you say as you giggle. Alfred laughs, “Well, Miss Yn, did you think I would make it easy for them? If they want to win, they better work for it, especially after tormenting you last time.” To this, you respond with another laugh and get out. “Thank you again, Alfred.”

You see the car leave as you walk through the familiar garden. The place where Jason and you first met. You knew how to get to the ballroom, the balcony overlooked the gardens and the stairs were easy to find. As you walk, you can’t help but feel as if you are a princess in a lost garden. Finally, you get to the stairs and enter the ballroom. Dresses of all times of colors are around you. People with eccentric masks surround you. If your mission was to go unnoticed, then you have failed. Your beauty is one to attract stares, even if they are discreet. Women look at you in envy and awe. Your green silky dress was one for the books. (And you are thankful you went through the stone path of the garden and your dress didn’t get dirty cause that would have been HORRIBLE). Men look at you with desire and curiosity. Once the initial shock is gone, men and women go back to their conversations, though some still stare every once in a while because you ARE a SIGHT. As you keep on walking, you grab a champagne flute and look around to see if you recognize anyone. A group of four maybe five young girls call you to them and gush about the beauty of your dress, asking who is the designer and where you bought it. You start to make small conversation with them and find that it was surprisingly pleasant. Most of the time you are with Nola and limit your socialization to her, one or two people, and Alfred, but seeing as you don’t have either of them, it was time to polish those social skills. Conversation lasted 20 minutes or so before they began to gossip about all the rich hot bachelors in Gotham and you took this as a chance to slip away and walk around. You admired the grand chandelier in the cealing and how beautiful this place looked. Finally, you decide to stand to the side and watch all of the couples dancing in the center to the music. You swayed from side to side with the music until a select group of people caught your attention. Five boys and three girls, all of who you recognized very well from the way they were scanning the crowd and vibrating with excitement. They really were truly obvious. The eldest, Dick, with a dark blue suit, a white button-up, a sparkly dark blue tie, and dark blue pants with a light blue mask (extra bitch). The second eldest, the object of all your desires at the moment, Jason, with a red button-up that had the first three buttons undid, a black suit jacket and pants, and a silver mask? We were matching? You blush at the thought and look at the next in order to distract yourself from the walking five-course meal. Tim had a plain white button-up with a black suit and a sparky red tie, with a black and red mask. Damian had pretty much the same as Tim, except his tie was a sparkly deep shade of green and so was his mask. Finally, there was Duke, that wore the same, yet with the color yellow. The girls, whom you assumed were Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie looked beyond amazing. Cass had a beautiful black dress with a pretty gold and black mask, Barbara looked absolutely stunning with a light blue dress that contrasted beautifully with her hair and wore a light blue sparkly mask, and Stephanie wore a purple dress that just looked perfect on her and a bright purple sparkly mask. They all looked fkn amazing and expensive as shit. Seriously, what do they feed them for them to look that great?!?! You can clearly see them looking around trying to seem sneaky and Jason, oh Jason, he was looking straight at you and once you made eye contact you could see the faint smirk he had before downing his champagne. Oh shit! You break eye contact and act unfazed, to see if you can throw him off guard and make him believe he confused you with someone else. You look somewhere else and when you tried to look back discreetly, you can observe confusion on his face as he begins to search around again. Oh, tonight will definitely be fun!

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Extra Author’s notes:

I’m used to hiding my writing behind the SMAU and in this series you will definitely see me exploring more with my writing and showcasing it more so please! Leave feedback, i absolutely ADORE hearing from my readers if they are enjoying the story and if they would like to suggest ideas and such. Thank you so so much for reading, i hope you are enjoying it as much as i am enjoying creating it!

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

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Punch

(because it won't leave me alone now that I have it in my mind. A little surprise for y'all)

“Is it nice to be a kept man? Doing nothing but living off your husband’s generosity?”

Wei Wuxian is an old hand at dealing with Jiang Cheng’s caustic words, but he had hoped his former shidi wouldn’t be so public with his cruelty.

Evidently, he had been mistaken.

They haven’t seen each other since that incident at Guanyin Temple. With how things went, he believed Jiang Cheng would’ve taken his advice to heart. Unfortunately, there’s still bitterness and anger in those eyes.

The hairs on Wei Wuxian’s neck stand on end as he feels several gazes on him. He refuses to show any discomfort, even if there’s a squirming feeling in his stomach. It isn’t that he is ashamed of anything or even needs to be. By all measures, he ‘earns his keep’ and contributes materially to GusuLan. He does teach disciples and share his innovations with his marital sect.

And as Lan Wangji’s husband, he has full rights to his husband’s possessions.

Nevertheless, the accusation stings because it is a blatant reminder of his childhood. Of the time he was accused of taking advantage of Jiang Fengmian’s generosity, most often by the man standing before him. That part of his life is a faded memory now but sometimes, things come back to him.

“Heh,” Jiang Cheng’s smirk is cruel, “I’ve rendered you mute. You have some shame, after all.”

Those words are designed to provoke a response. Dignity lies in just walking away. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes briefly before opening them and returning Jiang Cheng’s smile with a mocking one of his own.

It is satisfying to see anger flare in Jiang Cheng’s eyes in response. He doesn’t reply and is preparing to just walk away when familiar warmth brushes against his side.

Wei Wuxian stills and bites back a groan of dismay.

Lan Zhan doesn��t take insults directed at Wei Wuxian kindly. “Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Zhan greets.

“Hanguang-jun,” Jiang Cheng greets back with a grin that has teeth. Wei Wuxian wonders if the man has been drinking heavily. Jiang Cheng usually is more wary and cautious with Lan Zhan. “Come to defend your man?”

Oh, Jiang Cheng has definitely been drinking.

“Lan Zhan, he’s not himself,” He cautions his husband, touching his arm discreetly.

“I am myself!” Jiang Cheng declares and absolutely no one believes him. He sees disapproving eyes shift towards the Jiang Sect Leader and thinks of how to neutralize the situation before Jiang Cheng somehow provokes Lan Zhan’s wrath.

“You are not,” Wei Wuxian says, “Jiang Cheng, whatever has upset you can wait until tomorrow. It is time for you to rest.”

“You dare order me about? Who do you think you are, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng hisses, his voice low as he steps forward and stares down at Wei Wuxian.

He meets his former shidi’s gaze evenly, “People are watching.”

Jiang Cheng looks around the room and turns back to him with a sneer, “Now that your behavior affects Hanguang-jun's reputation, you care about what people say. How low have you fallen, Wei Wuxian. From the First Disciple of a respected sect to a man who barely cultivates or nighthunts. Father would be ashamed.”

Wei Wuxian is quick to place a restraining hand on his husband’s arm, recognizing the fury in those golden eyes.

Jiang Cheng meets Lan Zhan’s gaze challengingly and even Wei Wuxian feels a stir of concern and alarm at such behavior. It is unlike Jiang Cheng to act like this in public, or at least, it had been when Wei Wuxian knew him. “Will you tell me to spare some virtue, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian bites by a groan, “Jiang Cheng, stop-” He pauses, startled when Lan Zhan grasps his hand gently. Wei Wuxian looks up just in time to see his husband bring his fingers to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss upon them.

The openly affectionate gesture in front of so many people makes him flush, “I beg your pardon, husband,” Lan Zhan says and Wei Wuxian is too startled to question him.

Lan Zhan releases his hand and spins around in a swirl of white lace robes. He watches it happen in a daze, feeling his heart race as Lan Zhan’s fist connects squarely with Jiang Cheng’s jaw, sending the sect leader stumbling back half a dozen steps.

There are loud exclamations all around them but Wei Wuxian is uncharacteristically frozen. He knows the strength of those arms intimately and he knows Lan Zhan has held back a lot.

But this outburst is still shocking.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng snarls, “Do you want to fight? You’ll find me more than a match for you!”

Lan Zhan can be cruel too; when he is provoked enough to say cutting worlds.

“You will never match me,”

Everyone stills at Lan Zhan’s tone and Wei Wuxian takes a few hasty steps forward, placing a hand firmly on his husband’s arm.

Lan Zhan picks up his hand again and kisses his fingers again. Wei Wuxian refuses to be surprised this time. “Lan Zhan,”

“The core within you was more than a match for me once,” Lan Zhan says and many people gasp, likely at the confirmation of the rumor that has been floating around for some time, “And you have done nothing with it, Jiang Wanyin.”

“You-!”

Lan Zhan takes a step forward and he looks intimidating enough for Jiang Cheng to take two steps back. His face is already turning a violent red and his cheek seems to be swelling. There’s blood on his lips and under his nose, but Wei Wuxian is fairly certain nothing is broken.

“Wei Ying has earned his peace.” That is all he has to say and Wei Wuxian is too concerned for his husband to deny him when Lan Zhan pulls him away.

It isn’t until they’re on Bichen and flying towards Gusu that Wei Wuxian cracks, his body shaking as his laughter fills the pleasant evening air. Birds scatter and Lan Zhan adjusts his hold to keep him on Bichen, but he can’t stop.

“Heavens, husband, what a fearsome display of temper!”

Lan Zhan says nothing and Wei Ying lifts his husband’s hand, the one that punched Jiang Cheng, and kisses it with an irrepressible smile.

Really, Lan Zhan is too much for his poor heart.

#fics written on a whim #anti jiang cheng #angry lan wangji #protective lan wangji #wei wuixan

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vampireoutofbusiness · 3 years

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If You're the Sun, I'm the Moon

NAVIGATION

Pairing: Peter x Avenger!reader

Warnings: Swearing, typos cuz it's 4 am

Request: Could you write about reader organizing a date and buying Peter flowers for a change, and he’s really stressed so it means a lot to him

Synopsis: You surprise Peter with a date night to give him a break and show him how much you appreciate him

a/n: soft peter has my heart, I want to hold and kiss him

Want to request something? Click Here

*Do not repost my work anywhere, reblogs are appreciated*

this picture of him is absolutely adorable i cant-

Recently, Peter had been working really hard in school and as Spider-man. He spent all of his free time - when he wasn’t fighting crime -studying for finals. If it was up to him he wouldn’t do any school work and would spend all of his time with you.

You, on the other hand, had a lot of free time when you weren’t doing something that was part of being an Avenger. You decided to surprise your boyfriend with a date. The whole thing was planned out for the two of you to go to dinner which you made a reservation for at a nice Italian place.

Then, you’d take him to the roof of the compound where you’d play music and maybe slow dance. And you had blankets to lay on and watch the stars. The whole thing was kind of cliché but your boy deserved it.

He spent so much time worrying about everyone else, especially you. People tried taking advantage of his generosity sometimes which didn’t get far, thanks to you.

He took every chance he got to tell you he loved you or that you looked beautiful. You definitely returned the favor but you wanted to do something big to show how much you appreciated him and all that he did.

You picked up your phone and called your boyfriend since he just got out of school.

“Hey,” he answered, his tone telling you how happy he was that you called.

“Hey, so I’m gonna need you to skip patrol tonight,”

“Why is that?”

“We’re doing something, and you have no way out,” you sighed, a tease in your tone.

“Then I guess I’m not patrolling tonight- what are we doing instead?” He asked, curiosity in his voice.

“That is for me to know and for you to find out, just dress nice and I’ll pick you up at seven,”

“Okay, now I really want to know,”

“Nope, see you tonight, I love you,”

“Fine…I love you too,”

Now, you needed to get the roof ready for that romantic stargazing and get yourself ready. You also needed to pick up flowers on your way to Peter’s apartment.

You settled for a bouquet of sunflowers from a flower stand you drove by. They were perfect because it wasn’t that he was like the flowers, he was the sun. You felt drawn to him, he made you feel alive, now isn’t that something?

He’s bright and beautiful, all he had to do was smile and he made you happy. And you knew he wasn’t really happy like that all of the time. But, you made sure he was loved and taken care of when he wasn’t shining, although you really did that all of the time. Hence, this date night.

You also looked fucking amazing because you didn’t know when the next time was that you’d be able to do this with Peter. Granted, he thinks you look good in a random pair of pajama pants with a t-shirt from an obscure store that doesn’t match at all.

He was checking himself in the mirror when he heard you knock on the front door. He hoped he looked as good as he knew you did.

His breath hitched when he opened the door and he saw you and the flowers in your hands.

“You look so pretty,” he gave you a timid smile.

“As do you,” you handed him the flowers and slid your hands down the front of his suit jacket, admiring him. He. Is. Fucking. Adorable.

“Wait- you- these are for me?” His was voice soft and he pointed to himself.

“Yes, my sunshine, they are,”

He grew the proudest smile on his face and examined them, taking small glances at you because HOLY SHIT you got flowers for him and he’s never gotten flowers from someone.

“Thank you,” he pulled you into a hug, his free hand squeezing your waist.

“Of course,” you pulled your head back and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” He asked as you fixed his tie for him because he’s never gotten the hang of it.

“It’s a surprise, now do you have a vase for-,"

“I want to hold them,” he wrapped his arms around the flowers as if he was hugging them.

“You’re taking them on the date?” You raised your eyes brows and chuckled when he nodded, a small pout on his face, “okay, whatever you want,”

When your car made it to the restaurant, Peter looked at you with amazement.

“We’re eating here?”

“Yep,” you rubbed your thumb on his thigh where your hand was resting for the entirety of the ride.

He loved when you did that, his stomach was doing flips even if he was used to it.

When you got seated (including Peter’s flowers), Peter looked at the menu and you could tell what he was going to ask.

“Yes, it’s spendy. No, you will not be paying a pretty penny,” you told him, not looking up from your own menu.

He sighed at your stubbornness but continued looking for what he wanted.

“Spaghetti, please, and can you ask them to cut it?” He asked, his voice quiet out of embarrassment that he was too anxious to order for himself.

“Yep,” you smiled and reached for his hand across the table.

You really didn’t mind handling most of the talking when you were together, you knew he got nervous and if you could relieve his stress, then you were happy to order for him.

You spent most of the dinner laughing and getting weird looks from people because you and Peter might have dressed the part, but this place was way too posh. Still, having time with him all to yourself was everything you wanted.

After you finished and paid, he thanked you so much to the point that you glared when he wouldn’t stop. You loved treating him because he deserved the world.

“Why are we going to the compound?” He asked when it clicked in his mind you were en route to there.

“Patience,” you winked and he sighed, his curiosity boiling inside of him.

The both of you heard faint music playing as you went up the stairs to the roof and you opened the door for him when you got to the top. He looked around at what you had set up, the sunflowers still in his hands.

A speaker, held by Pietro, was playing Talking to the Moon and several blankets and pillows were laid out for the two of you.

“Thanks,” you told Pietro and you took the speaker from him.

“I get my fiver later, right?” He asked as he made his way to the door for the stairwell.

“Right,” you assured him before grabbing Peter’s hand, guiding him over to the “bed” you made, and laying down, "come here,”

You opened your arms and he immediately fell into them, his head resting on your chest. He snaked his arms around your waist and you pulled a blanket over the two of you.

“The view of the night sky is so much better out here than in the polluted city,” he remarked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Pretty, right?” You kept your eyes on the stars twinkling above you.

“Yes, you are,” he rested his chin on your chest, his eyes appreciating the moonlight beaming down on you.

Speaking of beaming, Peter was insanely happy right now. The amount of work you put in for him to have a nice night made his heart beat faster each time he thought about you. He felt so lucky.

“Why thank you, but don’t you want to stargaze, not me-gaze?” You chuckled and cupped his cheeks.

“If I’m sunshine then y- you’re moonlight,” he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’re the sun, I’m the moon,” you looked up at the full moon, illuminating the rooftop, “how poetic,”

“Thank you so much,”

“It’s no problem, I’m very lyrical,” your voice was bleeding with sarcasm and he rolled his eyes.

“I mean for tonight, I really needed it,” his eyes were soft and he placed a kiss on your cheeks.

“Anything for the light of my life,” you shrugged as if it was nothing before pulling him down to your lips again.

The kiss was slow and full of so much love. You could stay here, in this moment forever, if it meant you could keep everything bad away from this boy. In reality, you couldn’t. But, you could do everything in your power to be his safe place and show him how much you loved him.

“Can I do anything else to relieve your stress?” You asked, a small smirk on your face as you brought a leg around his waist and swiftly flipped the two of you over.

He looked up at you hovering over him, a light blush across his cheeks.

“What did you have in mind?”

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Taglist:

@avengersbitch @criminalyetminimal @Simp4ronaldw @quaksonhehe @marthakookie @annajschuler3000 @t-bag2

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #mcu #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker scenerios #imagine #peter parker imagine #avenger!reader #fluff

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

fine line - p.p

chapter 4

pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: there’s a fine line between love and hate and you and Peter dance it on a regular basis

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly, assuming the answer would be a definite no.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, making you recall the time your dad told you he would surprise you. Peter sat down next to you, giving you your space but still close enough to comfort you. You heard him chuckle after a beat of silence and looked at him curiously.

“You know, that’s the first time you ever called me Peter.” He commented, looking at you with a half smile.

“I’ve called you Peter before.” You insisted in your hoarse voice.

“No. I would’ve remembered if you did.” He chuckled. “You always call me Parker.”

“Oh. I guess I do.” You realized as Peter reached forward and wiped your tear with his thumb. You held eye contact with his and he dragged his thumb down your cheek, letting his warmth assuage your pain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, giving him a weak smile.

“No problem.” Peter said sincerely. “This is the longest we’ve been in a room together without yelled at each other. It’s also the closest you’ve ever let me near you.”

“Sorry.” You said as you got ready to move. “I can move over-“

“No, it’s okay.” Peter stopped you by placing a hand on your arm. “I want you close.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to hide how happy his sentence made you. Despite how awful you treated him, he was always kind to you. Usually his generosity made you even angrier, but you didn’t have the strength to hate him tonight.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me. I’ve never been nice to you.” You shook your head and look down at the box of tissues in shame.

“I believe in treating people how you’d like to be treated. You’re also letting me be nice to you, which is a nice change.” Peter cracked a smile as he brushed your wilting curls out of your face. You leaned into his hand for a moment, closing your eyes as you finally felt peace.

“I don’t hate you.” You said suddenly, making Peter raise his eyebrows. “You said I hated you before. I don’t, really. I’m sorry I made you think I did.”

“I’m sorry too. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I didn’t even want to move in. Mr. Stark insisted, he thought I’d be able to keep you company.” Peter laughed slightly, feeling the irony of his statement.

“Then why did you?” You wondered. You always thought it had been Peters idea to move in as a way to reap the full benefits of being an Avenger, but it turned out you were wrong.

“My aunt just got this job at a charity and she absolutely loves it, it just takes up all her time.” Peter explained. “It’s the first time I’ve seen her happy since my uncle passed and I didn’t want her to chose between her job and taking care of me, so I moved in here. I…I didn’t know Mr. Stark was gonna take me on all the missions and stuff.” Peter said softly. “I never meant to take your place.”

You opened your mouth and quickly shut it, feeling incredibly stupid and guilty for how you’d been treating him.

“I didn’t know that. Any of that, I didn’t...I didn’t know.” You said quietly as your eyes filled with regret.

“You and I don’t talk much.” Peter shrugged sadly. You tilted your head to the side, looking at him sympathetically in an entirely new light.

“You were right before, you know.” You told him. “I am jealous of you for being my dads favorite.”

“Y/n, I was just saying that.” Peter apologized. “That’s not how I really feel and it’s definitely not true.”

You looked straight ahead at your deep blue bedroom walls and let out a sigh, knowing the impending conversation wouldn’t be easy.

“He wanted a boy.” You said after a beat of silence, busying yourself with your fingernails so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

“What?”

“When he adopted me. He wanted a boy.” You explained further, feeling a blush of embarrassment cover your face and neck.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Peter shook his head as he shifted a little closer.

“Yes it is.” You smiled sadly. “They did all these family matching events at my foster home when I was a kid and he would always stop by. I always saw him talking to the boys. He never signed any papers though, I think he was just browsing.” You chuckled, and Peter did too.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s difficult to talk about.” Peter said kindly as he rested a hand on your knee.

“I want to tell you so you can understand.” You insisted, feeling like this was your best shot at an apology.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“I never got picked.” You came outright with it. “I would show up to these events in my best dress and biggest smile and watch all my friends get taken home by some family, even if it was just for a test run, but nobody ever picked me. It gets to you after a while.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Peter sympathetically squeezed your knee.

“No, it’s okay. If some other family had wanted me, I wouldn’t have ended up with my dad.”

“You’re really strong for being able to see the bright side of all this. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Peter shook his head as he got a look into your history.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled softly at him, letting him know you were no longer upset.

“How did you end up with Mr. Stark?” Peter wondered.

“He came pretty late one day, after an event had been going on for a while. He had Pepper with him that time, I guess he finally convinced her to come. By the time he arrived, all the boys had already been taken, and I could just see the disappointment in his face. Then he made eye contact with me.” You smiled to yourself. “I had seen him there so many times, but this was the first time we interacted. I had on this fluffy pink princess dress to make myself look more presentable. He saw me and laughed.”

“Princess. That’s why he calls you princess.” Peter made the connection.

“So you’re not as dumb as I thought.” You teased him, playfully this time, as you nudged him. “He bent down in front of me and asked if I’d like to live in his castle for the week, and I said yes. After the week was up, he brought a suitcase to my foster home. He said my suitcase matched his because we were a family now. It was the first thing that had ever been mine, you know? Not a hand me down or anything. It was mine. Those suitcases are all worn out now, but we still use them for every mission. At least, we used to.”

“Thats why you were upset he threw his out. Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of this. You never - - You don’t talk to me.” Peter’s voice was pained as he got the full picture of why the fight had upset you as much as you did.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that. I know this doesn’t justify why I treat you the way I do, but I hope it explains it a little.” You looked at him apologetically. “It’s dumb but I always saw those suitcases as a symbol of our family. And then he goes and throws them out to buy one for you. Not that I would need one anyway since he stopped bringing me on missions and I just, I don’t know, I felt replaced.”

“That’s not dumb.” Peter insisted. “Mr. Stark likes having me around but I could never replace you. You’re his daughter. I know he spends a lot of time with me but that doesn’t mean he wanted a boy.”

“That’s not the only thing, though.” You continued. “When I got to his house for the first time, before the tower was even built, he already had a room set up. Blue walls and little shirts with sports slogans on them told me what I already knew. He wanted a boy. He wanted you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever wear a shirt with a sports slogan on it.” Peter slipped a joke in, making you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, well. You check all his other boxes.” You reminded him. “You’re smarter than me, better at technology than I am, and you’re a freaking superhero for crying out loud. I can’t do half the things you can and he knows it. And when you guys save the world together or build these amazing inventions, it’s like you’re rubbing in all the things I could never do with him. It just reminds me that you’re what he wanted.”

“So are you. He loves you.”

“I don’t doubt he loves me. I just doubt I’d be his first choice.” You shrugged sadly. “You and I are both orphans and if you hadn’t had your aunt and uncle to take care of you, you would’ve ended up in the same place as me. And if you had been there that day at the event…”

“You think Mr. Stark would’ve chosen me, not you.” Peter finished your sentence, and everything made sense to him at once.

“Yeah.” You whispered as tears filled your red rimmed eyes once again. “I’m sorry I don’t call you by your name. I’m sorry I’m mean to you and push you away. But you have to understand, you’re not someone I ever wanted to know. And when you say things like him preferring you, I believe you.”

“I never should’ve said that. I wish we had this conversation when I first moved in.” Peter sighed heavily. “I would’ve understood you so much better. And I…I wanted to understand you.”

“You did?” You jerked your head back in surprise at his statement.

“Yeah. It was kinda a bummer when I realized my mentors extremely beautiful and intelligent daughter hated me.” Peter chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “He talked so highly of you, I wish you could’ve heard it. He’s this world famous billionaire inventor and superhero and his greatest accomplishment is his daughter. It made me really excited to meet you. And then…”

“And then I made your life hell.” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you finished his sentence. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s okay. I still liked you, even if you were mean to me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I could tell you were funny and nice from when I heard you talking to other people. I just didn’t understand why you didn’t like me.”

“I feel like we could’ve been really good friends by now if I hadn’t been so quick to judge you.” You pouted as you looked at him. “I thought you were taking advantage of my dads money of something. You’re actually a really good guy. I should’ve listened the first 50 times me dad told me that.”

“We can still be friends. I think I’ll be around a while.” He teased your usual hatred of him being around as he bumped his shoulders against yours. You laughed as you moved together, feeling grateful for the second chance he was giving you. Something he had said clung to the back of your mind and in the name of being honest, you brought it up.

“Do you…do you really think I’m beautiful?” You asked curiously as you looked at him. A blush spread from Peters nose bridge all the way to the tips of his ears when he realized you caught his subtle compliment.

“Um, don’t you?” He shrugged, answering your question with a question to put the ball back in your court. Your lips twitched into a smile before you looked away, feeling flustered in place of your usual disdain.

“To answer your question from before, my date was lame.” You shrugged. “Harry was on his phone the whole time, something about fantasy football? I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. Rich people are like, super boring.”

“I thought you liked him? Last I heard, you wanted to be his girlfriend.” Peter couldn’t help from rolling his eyes as he spoke.

“Oof.” You clicked your tongue. “If you haven’t figured out by now that I played up my feelings for Harry to make you jealous, then maybe you’re not smarter than me.”

“You wanted to make me jealous?” Peter repeated for confirmation. “It worked, but why?”

“Do you want to know the number one thing that annoyed me about you?” You asked him, the fight a distant memory now.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Peter chuckled as he rested his head in his hands to look at you.

“No matter how much I disliked you,” you shook your head and shrugged slightly, “I always liked you more.”

“I thought you said you would never like me.” Peter recalled, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you moved closer to him, sitting on his thigh and resting your hand on his shoulder, “I guess I had a change of heart.”

“Well.” Peter looked up at you with a fire in his eyes. “What ever am I going to do about that?” He said slowly as he drummed his fingers on your leg.

“Yeah. What are you gonna do about it, Parker?” You brought back his old nickname to really push him.

“I have a few ideas, Princess.” Peter mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands immediately went to his hair, tugging it for all the times he made you stressfully tug at yours.

“You drive me crazy with all your eye rolling.” Peter said between kisses as he pushed you down on the bed. “Nobody is that annoyed all the time.”

“Every time I saw you in the lab I hoped you’d burn your hand on the benson burner.” You confessed as you trailed kisses on his jawline.

“I hate when you leave your cereal bowls out. Do you know how disgusting almond milk looks when it’s left out? Ugh it made me so mad.” Peter groaned as he pinned you to the bed.

“I hate when you’re in the kitchen when I’m baking. You’re so annoying.” You whined, tilting your head up to kiss him.

“You’re so annoying.” He shot back as he pulled you closer.

“I cannot stand you.” You shook your head before kissing him again. “At all.”

“That makes two of us, princess.” Peter gave you a cocky smirk as his hand traveled up your leg.

“I told you not to call me that, daddy.” You shot back, making Peter gulp. You laughed wickedly and propped yourself up on your elbows. “Thats what I thought. You’re all talk.”

“That wasn’t fair.” He growled, teeth grazing your earlobe now.

“You just can’t handle it.” You teased him.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Peter said simply as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Same.” You laughed at the irony. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker jealous #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel #spiderman

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highfaelucien · 3 years

Note

Nesta/Az/Cassian for the ship thingy???👀🥺 we were deprived of their domesticity in the House of Wind

Pairings done so far: Luzriel

send me a pairing and I’ll give you some headcanons

falls asleep on the couch

-Honestly all of them. Azriel frequently finds Cassian and Nesta slumped naked on the couch after they had sex and then fell asleep afterwards. He makes a very miffed comment about them having fun without him. Cassian opens up a wing to invite him to join them, while Nesta sleepily flips him off. He acknowledges this is Nesta speak for the same thing.

-Cassian can absolutely sleep anywhere. In any conditions. The couch is absolute the least weird place Az and Nesta have found him napping in the townhouse.

-Nesta is guilty of staying up reading a really good book and then passing out. When Cassian finds her he flips to the end of the book and reads loudly from it to wake her up (though he doesn't ACTUALLY do this because she WILL kill him for spoiling her. So he makes up his own ending). Azriel, who is polite, picks up her book, marks the page for her, and takes her to bed.

-Azriel passes out, less likely on the couch, more so on his desk, working himself until he literally fades into unconsciousness. Nesta will deadass return the favour and pick him up and take him to bed. Where she will then grumpily sit on him so that when he wakes up he finds a tiny angry fae sitting on his chest glowering at him threateningly and telling him it is time to SLEEP. Azriel is a smart man so he doesn't budge. Cassian will ALSO carry him to bed when he finds him because Mother knows he needs it.

-Occasionally Cassian also finds Nesta and Azriel fallen asleep together on the couch after reading the same book together and having a lil book club over it. He fakes a HUGE tantrum over this because how COULD you do this without me!? you KNOW snuggles are my favourite thing ever!?!!?!?!?!?

makes friends with the neighbors

Cassian. Absolutely. The second they move in. And he puts in all of the 'friend making effort'. Azriel is a painful introvert and does not want to do this, but he's polite so he hovers awkwardly beside Cassian as he happily introduces himself.

Nesta stays inside and unpacks doing "something actually useful" as she pointedly yells at Cassian.

Cassian takes advantage of her absence to spin a long and boastful story to the neighbours about his dear wife Nesta. When he met her she had been cursed to just be the most hideous looking creature in existence. And you might think she'd have a good personality to balance that out? The sweetness of an angel, the most incredible kindness and generosity. Well you'd be WRONG. She's a monster. But I was patient and majestic, and I took care of her and cured her curse and- oh hello sweetheart.

As Nesta marches out of the house and GLOWERS at him then frogmarches him back inside. The neighbours are quite sure they will never see him alive again. Azriel is left standing alone outside. Gives an awkward little nod and tells them if they need anything to just let them know. Then he melts back into the house to prevent a murder.

is the adventurous eater

Cassian will eat legitimately anything. And there are very few things he doesn't like? but the things he doesn't like he dislikes VERY VIOLENTLY. If you attempt to feed this man peanut butter he will make your life miserable forEVER. He also likes to experiment in the kitchen.

Nesta is very much. She likes what she likes and she has no interest in adding to that. She's perfectly happy. She will make the effort and try things that Cassian specifically makes because she knows it's important to him. but she goes into it like she's headed to the gallows each time and as long as she takes a little bit that's fine. Nesta doesn't like new things or change in her established existence.

Azriel has a very discerning palatte. He can subsist on soldier's rations. But he's absolutely the obnoxious foodie of the group, surprisingly so to people who don't know him. Cassian considers it a Great Personal Achievement if, when he puts the first mouthful of food into his mouth, Azriel smiles.

hogs the covers at night

NESTA. She sleeps in between the two Illyrians, and no-one have any idea HOW but every night she manages to cocoon herself in blankets. Cassian has described her, lovingly, as his "little rotisserie chicken" assuming that she just...rotates and pulls the blankets in around her with every turn. Cassian and Az doesn't really mind, they have wings, and body heat, and have slept in far worse places. It amuses them.

forgets to do the dishes

Nesta. Azriel and Cassian both have that 'hyper neat military discipline' thing and they both get antsy if their spaces aren't clean. On very rare occasions Az will sometimes leave like the occasional tea cup or plate lying around and Cassian will take that as a cue to go and check in on him because he must be really distracted/bothered by something for that to happen.

tries to surprise their partner more often

Cassian does the surprising. Most of them involve nakedness and rose petals. He also occasionally does ridiculous things like hiring a band to follow Nesta around the city all day and sing a song of how much he loves her. Buys an enormous teddy bear for Azriel so he has someone to hold him while Cassian is at the camps - because sweet Nesta won't (sweet Nesta elbows him)

Azriel does like big important anniversary/birthday and they're always incredibly intricately planned and thoughtful.

Nesta and Cassian both tag-team Azriel for special occasions and force him to take some time for himself and they just make him do all of his favourite things and it's Wholesome.

leaves dirty laundry on the floor

Nesta, mainly, because again Cassian and Azriel are neat freaks. However, Cassian will take credit for doing this when he's stripping one or both of his partners for sex.

stays up til 2 AM reading

All of them, actually. Cassian far less frequently than the other two. Az does this literally every day until Nesta legitimately picks him up and carries him to bed. Cassian assists by whipping the remaining report paper out of his hands as they come in. Azriel grumbles about them fussing over him like a pair of mother wyverns. Nesta pointedly tells him he needs it and Cass agrees.

Sometimes Azriel returns to the favour with Nesta. Or he TRIES to. But he approaches and she just raises a finger, without looking up, and growls at him. Cassian claps a hand on his shoulder and tells him to just let her finish her book. He doesn't want to have to start writing that eulogy just yet.

sings in the shower

Cassian sings very very loudly. It is not good. He does it anyway. And he dances. Even when he's joined in the shower by his partners.

Azriel sings, but only when he's alone. Or with Nesta. She is allowed to hear, but only if she sings with him. It's quiet, and beautiful, and one of their bonding moments.

takes the selfies

Cassian. Frequently. Nesta is very changeable. Sometimes she likes it and poses with him. Other times he just gets a palm in his face and a rude gesture.

Azriel always point blank refuses to have pictures taken.

plans date night

Azriel usually manages it, Nesta is his co-planner. They both like things ordered, and controlled, and to know what's happened.

They let Cassian plan once and never again. for the general of the Night Court armies he's fucking terrible at managing restaurant bookings.

#nessian #nesta x cassian x azriel #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel #EXCELLENT. FINALLY. SOME GOOD POLYAMORY CONTENT IN THIS BUILDING.#acotar series #acotar headcanons #nesta x cassian x azriel headcanons #nesassriel #nesassriel headcanons #hehe #answer post tag #taryn answer #I AM DOING THIS IM JUST SLOW AND LOW ON SPOONS

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

Text

jonsa victorian AU/promptfic

Prompt fic for @amymel86, who suggested: jonsa Victorian AU

...so remember that time months ago when I asked for prompts and got a ton of amazing ones?? and then I completely got distracted by writing a Bachelor fic??? Well, cut to now, I'm watching Miss Scarlet and the Duke (which, I have thoughts about and it's absolutely not perfect, but I'm very into hot Scottish men) and when I went on wikipedia to look it up, I saw “Victorian” and was like oh! And then I remembered this prompt and I just... had to write a vague Miss Scarlet and the Duke AU. I’m sorry?

(also, I genuinely know nothing about historical time periods, so... this is Victorian in spirit)

......

Jon is never going to live this down.

As it is, his relationship with the Stark sisters is already a problem, what with Arya's tendency to wriggle her way into the middle of police investigations. He's been able to handle it so far, but he knows some day, he will be forced to arrest her for it. There are only so many times his weight as a Detective Inspector for the Scotland Yard can get her out of trouble, there are only so many favors he can call in. He has known since the minute Arya had taken over Ned's private investigation business that things would come to a head eventually.

What he hadn't imagined was this.

“My personal whore?” he sighs, rubbing his hand over his eyes, putting pressure on them to stave off the incoming headache.

To her credit, Sansa at least has the grace to blush as she sits in the chair opposite him, back straight and hands folded primly in her lap.

No, he never imagined it would be Sansa that would rip him out of bed at nearly two in the morning by one of his constables, with news that his personal whore had been arrested.

“I didn't know what else to say,” she says calmly, though he can see the flush to her face even in the dim lamplight of his office. “They already thought I was one, and you have a reputation...”

Reputation. He scowls at the word and again, Sansa at least has the decency to be unable to meet his eyes after she says it.

His reputation comes from being an orphan, from having dalliances with women from the lower class. They were not whores, but Ygritte and Val may as well have been for all polite society cares. He hates that he has to worry about his reputation now, he hates the trappings of society, though he knows he must play along, or at least try to. He will never get a promotion if he does not watch his reputation, if he is not twenty times better than every other detective on the force. He did not go to the same fancy schools, he did not have a nice cushy rank handed to him in the army.

The only reason he is where he is today is because of Ned Stark's generosity and it is the only reason he helps Arya and Sansa.

“Jon,” she starts and he can hear it – the tone she uses with him that always seems to calm him down when he's particularly furious with something Arya has done. That's the way of it, Arya rushes in, bold as brass, and Sansa follows behind to soothe ruffled feathers and angry Detective Inspectors.

“I can't keep doing this,” he mutters, more to himself than to her.

He knows Arya never wanted a traditional life and so he hadn't been particularly surprised when, after Ned died, she found his cases and began working them herself. He had assumed, though, that the venture would fall through, but it is six months later and she is still going at it. And the strangest thing was that Sansa allowed it, that she joined in. Sure, she was more like a secretary than an investigator, but she took part all the same. The Sansa he knew growing up would never have allowed this, would never have participated, would never have been caught at a brothel at two in the morning and be forced to tell the arresting officer that she was Detective Inspector Jon Snow's personal whore.

In fact, the Sansa he knew had been well on her way to securing an engagement to the wealthy Joffrey Baratheon.

(His relief that she had not gone through with the marriage was simply because Joffrey Baratheon was a ruffian and insufferable and even Ned and Robb had hated him, nothing more.)

But Robb is dead going on three years now and so is Ned and the girls are alone and instead of marrying someone of great wealth, Sansa had instead chosen to help her sister run a private investigation office. He has not had a chance to ask their reasons, what with Arya constantly getting into trouble, but he imagines he won't particularly like the answer.

“I should lock you up for the night,” he tells her and her mouth drops open and her eyes widen like she is shocked he would even say such a thing and this further hardens his resolve to do just that. She is so sure she has him wrapped around her finger, that she can charm her way out of anything.

And when he stands her up and leads her down towards the cells, she gasps and tries to tug her arm out of his grasp and says, “you cannot be serious, Jon.”

“Do you have any idea how much you and Arya have cost me?” he feels the anger rising in his chest. He should not let the Starks get under his skin so well, but God help him, they do. “If I ever want a chance at that promotion Thorne keeps taunting me with, I can't keep sticking my neck out for the two of you. You don't think this is going to get back to the Chief somehow?”

He can hear his brogue getting thicker as he gets more worked up and he tries to tamp it down. It's just one more mark against him here, one more sign that he's an outsider.

“What else was I supposed to do?” she stops walking and turns to face him, eyes wide and shining with tears in the dim light of the hall and he shifts his gaze away from her and stares at the wall behind her. She knows all too well how weak he is to her tears. “You cannot put me in a cell overnight! You know you are not going to charge me with anything and holding me overnight is simply taking advantage of my situation, just as you did when we were children.”

“Are you bringing that up again?” he groans, tilting his head back and once again applying pressure to his eyes. “It was one chaste kiss, Sansa, years ago. Must you bring it up every time we argue?”

“I was grieving and you took advantage of that,” she sniffs.

That decides him, then, and he takes her by the arm and leads her to a cell and pushes her inside and closes the door behind her, ignoring her indignant gasp. She whirls and comes up to the bars, glaring at him through them.

“The way I remember it,” he tells her, his voice calmer now, but he lets the brogue stay rough, the way he spoke when they were children, “you threw yourself into my arms crying because Lady had died and it seemed to me you liked it.”

“I certainly did not,” she hisses, though he watches the color rise in her cheeks again. It makes him smile, that blush, which only seems to infuriate her further.

“I'll give instructions to let you out in the morning,” he says, as he starts to back away from the cell. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some whoring to do.”

She lets out one last gasp of rage as he turns and walks out and he knows that he will pay for this later, somehow, but for some reason he thinks he is looking forward to it.

#jonsa #jonsa fic #prompt fic #i cannot keep these under 1k words

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emmys-grimoire · 3 years

Text

Lesson 52 - Bittersweet Pseudo-Memories

It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was good for what it was?

When we last left our heroes, they were having their intimate moment intruded upon by Big Majestic Chicken Lucifer, who demands to know who they are. You can try to evade the question, but he continues to be an asshole and you have to relent and continue to pretend you and ‘Sully’ are angels. Lucifer pretends to believe you and proceeds to make you do his chores.

Lucifer proceeds to complain about Raphael dumping all his work onto him and Satan implies that Lucifer is letting the other angel bully him... and he’s not actually wrong. I’m not sure why Lucifer just couldn’t say “no” -- it’s not like he isn’t willing to in other contexts.

But Satan also can’t help himself, and it’s very clear early on that Lucifer knows he isn’t an angel. We are escorted to the library to sort books.

NEEEEEEEERD. Satan is a natural librarian, of course.

Lucifer continues to opine about his situation and Satan continues to needle him about it. There’s a cute moment when Lucifer admits there are few angels he can turn to for help or advice, and by contrast he feels Satan might be worth confiding in because he’s a fellow level-headed intellectual.

D’aaaaw. My only complaint is that he doesn’t really do this in the story; it’s only now being brought up for a bonding opportunity. The most we get is acknowledgement that Lucifer has a high opinion of Satan’s wealth of knowledge and expertise... he hasn’t really taken advantage of it.

It could be because the Avatar of Pride doesn’t feel he needs advice from anyone else.

The book comes up again, but...

It’s used as a trap to capture ‘Sully’ and reveal he is what Lucifer suspected he was: a demon.

Yeah I did but the game insists I be an unobservant moron for the plot to continue.

In my lesson 51 analysis I theorized the numbers in the title of the mysterious book related to a particular Bible verse meant to encourage believers to keep their faith, and while I can’t be 100% sure that’s what it was meant to allude to, this exchange seems to suggest it could have been. This arc is meant to instill Satan with more faith in Lucifer, because he’s constantly doubting his intent throughout this lesson.

But we discover that Lucifer has changed from who he was before we startled meddling in time travel dreams, by his own admission. You can probably make a good guess to who is responsible for that change (it’s actually not MC, though, believe it or not!).

Yep, it’s Diavolo.

Diavolo doesn’t act the way Lucifer expected a demon to behave and it’s confusing him.

But he likes him, and he has had some time to digest that. Glory Days Lucifer would never have admitted this to anyone, let alone strangers.

D’aaaaw.

Lucifer then turns his attention towards MC and asks about what they are. If you’re truthful, you get this interesting tidbit of information:

Michael has been scoping out Solomon before the Great Celestial War. Whatever for, I wonder? I don’t think angels offer pacts, and I suspect Solomon was a bit of a troublemaker even before he was given Michael’s ring.

My guess? Michael is Solomon’s guardian angel. It is probably the closest equivalent to forging a pact that angels have.

Yeah... I just told you I was a human lol.

A HUMAN.

(Nah I know it’s pretty obvious that we’re SPECIAL, at this point.)

Lucifer takes us to Simeon and the brothers, who are gathered in presumably Michael’s observatory-to-be. Lucifer decides to hi-jack Michael’s fun and steals the first chance to see the human world’s night sky for himself and his family. It is projected onto the walls of the room.

You can suggest Michael might be mad, and Lucifer makes it clear he gives no fucks.

The other option makes him explain he believes he’s owed this because Michael keeps making him go to the Devildom and never volunteers himself lol

The brothers marvel at the spectacle, and they wonder about the stories behind each constellation. Mammon suggests Michael likely knows all about them, and Satan proceeds to nerd out again AND POTENTIALLY STEALS THAT MEMORY by making himself the one who teaches his brothers about the stars.

But, it’s Satan’s at his best, and he enjoys it thoroughly.

You and the brothers eventually doze off, and Satan wakes you up to share some private reflections.

Cute.

You realize Lucifer and Simeon are nowhere to be found, and run off to go see what they’re up to. They’re having a private moment of their own.

Simeon’s happy but sad. :(

Yeah. I’ll have more to say about this particular moment in my analysis post. There’s a noteworthy parallel at play here.

Ruh roh. I think Simeon and Michael may have suspected Diavolo played a part in pushing Lucifer away from the Celestial Realm. If given the opportunity, I sense Simeon may have tried to talk him out of this doubt.

But he isn’t given the opportunity! We pass out and the screen goes black, accompanied by some creepy heartbeats. When we come to, we’re back in reality and in the care of Luke and Mammon.

Wow you guys had an exciting time being shoved offscreen didn’t you?

They puzzle over what transpired and Luke and Mammon confess they don’t remember anything of what happened after they stepped into the fake House of Lamentation.

Furthermore...

I was correct in my theory that it was an illusion, but it seems it was the work of regular ol’ fairies and not some creepy banshee. That was a red herring, apparently. It’s even more anti-climatic than expected.

Additionally, Satan unknowingly covered himself in fairy crack before he dropped in.

My question is: how the fuck does Simeon know all this? Did he hang out with fairies once upon a time?

They decide to give up the hunt for the fairy ring and return home.

NOOOO THEY MADE LUKE CRY

If it were up to me I would have gone back and punched some fairies into submission until they forked over the ring, Luke. I’m sorry!

Of course, there’s not enough sleeper cars now that Simeon and Satan unexpectedly joined the party. Guess what they proceed to fight over!

You flex your pacts to make Mammon and Satan stop squabbling.

Are we sure Lucifer and Michael are the only angel sadists?

Simeon takes an unusual amount of delight in the suffering or discomfort of others lol

I think he’s just much better at hiding it.

Either way, it’s obvious he’s bothered by something, and after some deflection and prying he finally fesses up.

Michael and Simeon want them back BAD.

We finally get our first opportunity to get all sappy with Simeon here.

Well I was right about which trial this was supposed to be, at least!

Luke and Mammon are on the roof squabbling about constellations again.

You’re treated to a mini-quiz about them. Have Google at the ready.

You find out there’s a constellation involving the seven brothers in the Celestial Realm, that was created (or at least named) after they fell.

They begin to theorize what the other three stars may represent. Mammon thinks it’s Michael and the stars represent his face.

Satan chimes in with a much better take.

I think Satan’s mostly right, but the stars represent Diavolo/Michael/MC specifically: the three “guardians” of their respective realms, all of whom have deep connections with the brothers.

Solomon can also count as a guardian, but I don’t feel he has the same connection with the brothers that those three have.

And it turns out this was two trials!

I completely forgot that generosity and gratitude were two of the virtues Solomon listed, so it’s not a complete copy of the seven virtues. But hey, it’s now four down and three to go!

We have eight more lessons to complete the remaining three, so we have plenty of time. But... what about the overarching plot? I was certain that something in this arc would finally jumpstart it, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

But... maybe there was something hiding in there? I’ll go over the more important bits in my analysis post.

There’s still plenty of lore they haven’t covered re: the Celestial Realm and most of it has just been fluff. Satan’s creation remains a mystery: so far we’ve learned the Seraphim are assholes and Lucifer is overworked, but the latter is nothing new and I highly doubt that inspires enough visceral rage to make Lucifer absolutely hate his dad. We don’t know how the war unfolded and we don’t know why Simeon was demoted from his post. How things went is a big determining factor in trying to deduce Michael’s part in everything, and what he’s currently planning.

I’m hoping they get around to all the juicy bits, but I don’t know...

#obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me satan #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me spoilers #obey me lesson 52 #commentary

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jokerfan99 · 3 years

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My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villains (Updated) by DarkChild316

In a different time and a different world, I did a list of “My 10 Favorite Anime Villains”. I am older now, and hopefully much wiser and now thanks to the global pandemic and my new subscriptions to Hulu and Funimation I’ve had the opportunity to go back and revisit so many classic anime that I feel like I should re-do it. Plus I’ve gone back and looked at my previous list and shook my head thinking to myself: “My God man, what in the f**k were you thinking with some of these choices!” So, I’ve gone back and redone the list, now this list is strictly for the men only. If you want to see a list dedicated to my favorite female villains, check out my list of “My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villainesses.” But for this list, here is my updated list of My Top 10 Favorite Anime Villains:

#10. Shishiho Makoto (Rurouni Kenshin): Growing up as a kid, Ruroni Kenshin was one of the first anime I had ever watched, and this guy was someone who I hated with a passion. Looking back at it years later, I realize now what an amazing villain and foil to Kenshin that Makoto was. Unlike a lot of villains on this list, Makoto wasn’t just evil for the sake of being evil, Makoto’s evil came from the worst type of trauma: betrayal! In this case the betrayal came from Makoto’s own government, where Makoto survived not only multiple gunshots, but being doused in oil and burned alive, leaving him in complete and utter agony. What puts Shishio on my list is what he manages to do after surviving death. He compiles an army of the best fighters Japan has to offer and plots to overthrow the entire Meiji Government. While in complete agony. Who else can claim that? Did I also mention he’s topping the list of the best fighters in the show? His swordsmanship is second only to Kenshin himself as he proves in their absolutely epic fight.

#9. Hisoka Morrow (Hunter x Hunter): Hunter x Hunter is a show with several great villains that truly stand out, and while Meruem was memorable, pardon me for believing that Hisoka was the standout villain from that show. A devious killer and master Nen user, Hisoka is driven by little more than his desire to find and kill strong opponents. Be they young children or master criminals, he’ll pursue them to the ends of the Earth with a bloodlust on par with that of a wild predator. Likewise, he doesn’t care what happens to himself or others in this pursuit. Mass civilian casualties, the loss of his own villainous allies or even the loss of his own limbs barely phases him, so long as he gets to fight with someone that tests his limits. As a result, he more often than not embodies chaos incarnate, wreaking havoc in his pursuit of battle and leaving a mountain of corpses behind him. Needless to say, this puts him at odds with the series’ protagonists at regular intervals. Not only do Gon and his friends fit the bill for what he seeks, but they often take on enemies that prove to be exactly what Hisoka is looking for. And yet, this also serves to make him all the more interesting. Where other villains might strike out at the protagonists and heroes immediately, Hisoka schemes, allies himself with and double-crosses people regularly, always finding the best angle to work in order to reach his goals. He may not be a world-ending anime villain on the level of a Meruem with seismic ambitions, but he’s undeniably the most interesting and brilliant villain in Hunter x Hunter to see at work.

#8. Izaya Orihara (Durarara!!): If you think of a list of top anime villains and this guy isn’t one of the first people who comes to mind, please raise your hands so I can have a few words with you in private with no cameras or eyewitnesses. The crazy thing about Izaya is that he doesn’t even realize he’s evil, and that’s what makes him great. He loves humanity; from the depths of his bones he loves us all. This is why he makes it onto my list; he does progressively more cruel acts against humans, putting people in situations that generally lead to their deaths. He is also a master of parkour and highly skilled with a switchblade in his hand (as evident in the above picture), which he generally only uses in dire situations or fights against Shizuo. In short, I absoulutely love this guy. I thoroughly enjoyed the way he manages to manipulate an entire populous, and that’s why he’s more than earned a spot on my list.

#7. Dio Brando (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure): You might have thought it was someone else, but it was me, Dio! All meme-worthy jokes aside, Dio Brando is unquestionably one of the most iconic anime villains of all time and, thanks to his series’ late-blooming popularity outside of Japan thanks largely to the 2012 anime adaptation, one that still feels modern in our minds. Dio is a tenacious bastard that takes advantage of the generosity of the Joestar family to further his own power, being intolerably dickish to Jonathan by constantly tearing him down, trying to make him look bad in front of his dad, spreading rumors to sully his reputation, and sabotaging his relationships. This escalates into killing his dog (his f***ikg dog of all things!), poisoning and later stabbing his adoptive father (I mean WTF!), and becoming a freakin vampire. Even after decapitation, Dio gets his revenge and sets in motion many of the events of the series, making a formal return in Stardust Crusaders as the main villain once again. With raw ambition taken to the extreme, iconic lines, poses, and outfits, incredible abilities from Aztec mask-induced vampirism and the time-stopping power of The World, Dio’s menacing presence towers over his series and over anime as a whole, which makes him MORE than deserving of a spot on my list.

#6. Light Yagami (Death Note): Yes, he’s a VILLAIN, get over yourselves Light Yagami fanboys! Anyway, there are a number of different adjectives and superlatives that could be used to described the lead character of Death Note: Diabolical, calculating, and determined to make the world in his own image all describe Light who was easily the most clever man in Death Note, as evidenced by the layers upon layers that composed his elaborate plans. Light started out as a good kid, doing well in school and heading to a bright career in police work like his father. But when he gets possession of the death note, he begins a remarkable descent into a disturbing mastermind who becomes judge, jury, and executioner for the entire world. But what truly makes Light's character stand out remains complicated throughout the story. His ultimate goal is to make the world a happier, safer place; a noble but perhaps misguided goal. His idealism and nobility still shine through when he doesn’t have the Death Note. When he temporarily relinquishes ownership of the death note to throw L off his trail, Light loses all memory of the death note and he reverts to his normal personality. His sense of morality returns and he shows more compassion for those around him. He even refuses to use Misa Amane to get information out of her when L asks him to. These qualities help to create a complex character who ends up being a detestable villain, yet you still kind of root for him to come out of this story as a winner. Light’s progression through the series is marked by his sheer brilliance. He's got a calculated and strategic mind that would make the great philosopher Machiavelli jealous, and the power of the death note adds a callousness that makes him free to use people in whatever way necessary to accomplish his goals. It’s highly entertaining to see his intricate plans play out. But Light’s messiah-like ego is just as big as his brain, and that arrogance ultimately leads to his tragic downfall.

#5. The Major (Hellsing): An evil Nazi Scientist, I know everyone is just rolling their eyes right now thinking I’m reaching for the low-hanging fruit for this one, but just hear me out here. While he may seem like an obvious pick for a list like this, The Major’s goals, however, are somehow far more unhinged than what may first appear. Despite being an impassioned orator and uncompromising strategist willing to sacrifice countless soldiers, the Major himself had no especial loyalty or passion for the cause of Millennium. His sole obsession is to plunge the world into an unending conflict to the point of endangering not only the lives of others but also his own. The Major’s leadership of Millennium, his decades espousing the genocidal ideology of fascists, and subsequent war against the Hellsing organization, the Vatican, and the entire world serve only as a pretext to satiate his insatiable bloodlust. The Major is one of anime’s most insidious villains, a charismatic, nihilistic sociopath driven purely by his sadomasochistic death wish.

#4. Shou Tucker (Fullmetal Alchemist): Now, you may be recalling that in my previous version of this list, I had Envy listed as my choice as my favorite villain from this show. Well after careful reconsideration, I’ve had to reevaluate my decision and give that spot to this creep, because while Envy’s actions were despicable to a point, they PALE in comparison to this guy! He only really appears in one episode if I remember correctly, yet in that one single episode, he made more of an impact then most villains make in a lifetime, which really says a lot about this guy’s character. What was it that made him so memorable you ask? Well, it could have something to do with the fact that this man transmutaed his own dog and daughter to create a talking chimera, which hadn’t been done before, and for what other reason…all in the name of recognition in the world of alchemy! That mere fact alone made this guy the most hated man in all of anime, the fact that he sacrificed his own family for the sake of fame, with absolutely no hint of remorse, made this guy the definition of an absolute living piece of shit and the only thing worse is how the episode ended, but I won’t spoil that one for you if you haven’t seen it.

#3. Gendo Ikari (Neon Genesis Evangelion) Up next is a man competing with the likes of Medusa Gorgon for the title of “Anime’s Worst Parent”, Gendo Ikari, please step up to the front of the congregation. Now Gendo is a man who’s list of atrocities throughout Evangelion is far too many to name, but I’m going to try my best to list them here: You have being actively complicit in the premature instigation of a biblical apocalypse, resulting in a near extinction-level event that caused the death of nearly two-thirds of the human population. Emotionally neglecting his own son Shinji estranging himself from him for over twelve years, only to offer him up as a sacrificial pawn in his bid to artificially bootstrap humanity’s ascent into evolutionary godhood so that he could be reunited with his dead wife. Cloning said wife’s DNA into a harem of emotionally dependent albino ingenues who share a dogged infatuation for their creator. And that’s not even mentioning the horrific emotional abuse and mental manipulation he inflicts on Dr. Ritsuko Akagi and her mother Naoko. All-in-all Gendo is proof positive that love not only has the capacity to overcome any obstacle, but sometimes it can truly make monsters out of us all.

#2. Griffith (Berserk): Griffith did nothing wrong; at least, not by his own drives and ambitions. A peasant who grew to become the leader of his own mercenary band, Griffith was a self-driven man who pursued his desires with unparalleled efficiency. No matter the situation or obstacle, he found a way to overcome them, whether that meant facing down an army of thousands or assassinating a country’s leaders. All the while, he amassed a legion of friends and followers who would follow him to hell and back, caring for him as much or more than he cared for them. As a result, they were dragged down with him when his ambitions saw him imprisoned, tortured and maimed. They cared little though, risking life and limb to save him and help him salvage a life with what he had left. That wasn’t enough for Griffith though. When given the option to become a demon and continue the pursuit of his dreams, he whole-heartedly accepted it; even though it came at the cost of sacrificing the lives of each and every one of his friends and allies. But that wasn’t the worst of it, to further spite the early desertion of Guts, Griffith proceeds to rape Casca, Guts’ love interest, in front of him as Guts is held down by demons. So yes, Griffith did nothing wrong by himself. By everyone else though, he did them the worst of injustices, and continues to do so with each breath he takes, all of which makes him a compelling and infuriating villain.

#1. Johan Liebert (Monster): I’ve covered a wide variety of monsters (pun fully intended) on this list, but THIS monster (again, pun FULLY intended) truly takes the cake when it comes to anime villains. A serial killer who would fit in well in any blockbuster film, Monster told the story of a man who had truly become monstrous; a charismatic, intelligent sociopath with no other goal than to kill everyone else in the world. Johan didn't just kill people, he made other people into monsters just like him. This skill of his corruption is first displayed in his youth, when he used stories to convince the other boys in his orphanage to kill all the staff, and each other. Johan is often compared to Light Yagami of Death Note, but the two couldn’t be any more different. Light's fatal (and genius) flaw is his own ego, which leads him to put his own life above all else, even his goal of changing the world. But Johan has never been afraid of death. Quite the opposite, he welcomes and embraces it, being more than willing to put his own life at risk, and one of his signature traits is how he challenges people to shoot him. Another of Jonah’s signature traits is his skills as a masterful manipulator. Where Light and other on this list had to resort to supernatural means to get what they wanted, Johan just used his own wits and knowledge of human nature. He's easily the most frightening villain on this list because he’s the truest to life villain on this list and he exposes the base human nature of his victims and of human society. Monster's remarkable story was almost entirely due to Johan alone, and it’s why he’s #1 on my list.

So that's my updated list, what did you guys think about it? Love it, hated it? Go on and tell me what you think and let me know who your favorite anime villains are. See you soon!!!

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/darkchild316

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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Help! I’m alive.

A/N I’m doubtless going to regret saying this, but the Saorsa-sequel is coming along nicely, so I’m getting this Jamie POV story in the Metric universe out of my head and onto the screen. It takes place about six months after Satellite Mind. Previous fics are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

In the months since they became roommates, Jamie felt he’d come to know Claire Beauchamp quite well. He wasn’t the world’s leading expert (that title likely belonged to Geillis), but he could give anyone in the London Metropolitan Area a run for their money.

He knew, for example, that she was never on time for anything. It didn’t seem to matter when she set her alarm, Claire always ran from their flat with her hair half-dried, a cereal bar tucked hastily into her purse, and a slipstream of manic energy trailing behind her.

She read ferociously, and many books at once. Flat surfaces collected still-lives of her textbooks, several novels, a poetry anthology - all dog-eared to mark her place. Some women shopped or went to the nail salon. Claire’s idea of stress relief was to curl up in her favourite corner of the sofa with a mug of tea and a good book.

She worked hard; harder than anyone he’d ever met. When she wasn’t on shift at the Royal London, she was attending her first year lectures in medicine. When she wasn’t at school, she was studying. And when she wasn’t studying, she was likely asleep. She slept like a rock dropped into deep water, often dozing off in front of the tele or at her desk. He wished he could carry her to her bed when this happened, just to offer her a glimpse of what life would be like if she permitted even the flimsiest pillar of support. It would have broken the terms of their tacit agreement, however, so he watched over her slumber, waking her only when absolutely necessary.

She loved eighties music, anything with a synthesizer and a beat. He could hear it, blasting from her headphones as she bent over her assignments or playing softly from the wireless speaker in the kitchen as she prepared dinner, her feet shimmying unconsciously over the hardwood floor.

She was a perfectionist. It didn’t matter the subject, she needed to excel at it. Soon after moving in, he caught her watching along to his rugby broadcast with a frown creasing her brow. “What is it?” he asked, curious. “Nothing. Just wondering why that wasn’t a foul.” Within weeks she had a favourite team (coincidentally, his team’s arch-rivals) and knew the players by position and name. Rugby nights when neither of them were working became a fixture in his calendar. A side-effect of this drive for perfection was that she took criticism unreasonably hard. A mentor at the hospital suggested she work on her suturing technique, and she sulked for an entire weekend, muttering profanities beneath her breath.

But for all his knowledge, Jamie couldn’t yet fathom why Claire had exiled romance from her life. She wasn’t a prude or ascetic - she had a bawdy sense of humour, especially after a few drinks, and her aesthetic, though minimalist, had room for little self-indulgences. Nor did she appear conflicted about her sexuality - he’d caught her appreciative glances in his direction from time to time, usually when he was wearing his dark blue fireman’s uniform. While some might call her aloof, he saw deep rivers of compassion and generosity beneath her carefully detached exterior. When he made a joke (usually at his own expense), there was a flicker of self-awareness a moment after she laughed, as though she had caught herself breaking an unwritten rule.

Whatever the cause, Claire Beauchamp had locked away her heart for safe-keeping, and was doing her best to forget where she’d hidden the key.

That particular morning he’d taken advantage of a last-minute shift cancellation to go for a long run, following the Regents Canal towpath for miles before finally looping back through Whitechapel. It was unseasonably warm for September, and he entered the flat a soaking mess, toeing off his sneakers and stripping down to his boxer-briefs on his way to a well-deserved shower. Claire had lectures on Tuesday mornings, so he had the place to himself.

Pushing open the bathroom door, he was assaulted first by a fragrant mist that hung thickly in the air. Cherry blossom, his mind supplied, while his eyes strained to identify its source. Standing with one leg balanced on the bathtub’s edge, wearing nothing but a mint green towel (Christ, since when were towels so small!) was his roommate, applying lotion to her milk-white skin. They both froze. Traffic ceased its ceaseless crawl outside their building. The waters of the Thames stopped flowing. The universe itself took a break from its endless expansion and contraction as Jamie and Claire stared at each other in their tiny Spittalfields bathroom.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed when he finally found his tongue, heavy and dry in his mouth, exactly where he left it. He backed slowly into the narrow corridor, his eyes never blinking until she was once again out of his sight. His heart was beating like a hammer, a runaway train confined within his ribs.

Claire eventually exited the bathroom, wearing the modest robe he was accustomed to seeing, instead of yards of extravagantly beautiful flesh. He was still in his boxer-briefs, struck dumb by shock, although some latent instinct of self-preservation had him pick up his sweaty top and hold it loosely in front of his groin.

“I had no idea ye were hame, Claire. I would ‘ave knocked a’fore openin’ the door... that is, I wouldna ‘ave opened the door, had I kent ye were in there,” he babbled.

“My morning lecture was cancelled,” she explained. “It’s fine, Jamie. No harm done, and nothing you haven’t seen before, I’d venture,” she smiled shyly.

“Aye. That is, nah! I mean, aye, but no’ you!” He trembled, wishing the ground would open up beneath his feet and eat him alive.

Claire giggled, but seemed reluctant to move. He needed to get into that shower while his blood was still flowing in his veins. Everything else, including his dignity, could wait. Why wouldn’t she move?

“Weel...” he began.

She laughed again. “Jamie, I can’t get past you. This hallway is too small and you’re too large. Your shoulders... your shoulders are too large!”

Grunting in acknowledgement, he pushed his sweaty back against the far wall. Claire scurried past him like a cornered animal.

Inside the bathroom, everything smelled like her. The mist that had touched her skin now settled on his own, like a second-hand caress. Already hard enough to pound nails, he bit into a fresh (really, preposterously small) mint green towel to stifle his groan.

Jamie Fraser now knew two more things about Claire Beauchamp. He knew what she looked like mostly naked, and he knew he’d never wanted anyone as much as her in his entire life.

#my writing #outlander

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 4 years

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Fit For A King {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I really want to thank the anon who mentioned they were interested in seeing a fantasy AU fic which got me to organize my ideas and come up with this story. I hope you like it and would love to hear your thoughts!

Boots hit heavily on the forest floor as the two men ran through the foliage dodging trees and trying not to slide on dew-soaked leaves. Their lungs burned and their breath came out in labored pants but they couldn’t stop, not with the shouts of the rogues pursuing them growing steadily louder.

“We can beat them from the sky if you shift!”

“I can’t, they got me across my back and if I shift before it heals my wing will be mangled! We have to fight them on the ground, Bakugo!”

The blonde grimaced. A twelve-on-two close combat fight was absolutely one they could win even without Kirishima’s ability to shift but the problem lie in their location; his magic, his strongest ability, would end with the entire dense forest burning to ash right alongside the men after them if he tried to take them all down at once.

“What’s our plan? We can’t run forever!”

“I know!” he snarled.

Being more familiar with the forest and on foot they had an advantage over their pursuers on horseback, but they would need to face them eventually and if his explosions were their best option that meant they needed a wider area. They were coming up on a small clearing only a dozen or so meters wide, not ideal but for the circumstances it would have to do.

“When the trees open up we fight. I’ll blast as many as I can as they file in, the forest is too dense for them to be spread out enough to surround us.”

“Got it!” Kirishima said with a nod, and they pressed on.

The greenery around them blurred but they knew the area, knew where they were and when he trees parted into a clearing they turned and took their fighting stances.

Rustling behind them made Bakugo’s eyes widen and as he began to move he heard a crack to his left and Kirishima was falling to the grass, eyes closed. When he registered the rogue smirking he gritted his teeth and sent a thundering explosion to his face, making the man pitch backwards and startling his horse enough to run off.

Bakugo realized he was going to be alone in this fight, their foresight to use the clearing not accounting for the fact that maybe the rogues knew the forest too, but he knew he could win if he continued his explosions to the other eleven pursuers.

He crouched down to move an unconscious Kirishima against a nearby tree so he wouldn’t be caught in the melee, and when the rest of the rogues appeared he sent blasts towards the first three that entered the clearing. They too fell to the ground and their horses dispersed, but no more breeched the tree line for several moments.

Until one single man on horseback burst through the branches, and as the blonde prepared his magic once again the silver tip of an arrow split open the skin of the rogue’s neck, piercing his throat easily and beginning to pour blood. He weakly clutched his neck and slumped sideways as the horse continued its gallop through the clearing and out of sight, Bakugo jumping back to press his spine against the rough bark of a tree to avoid the falling body.

“What the…”

The snapping of a twig had him looking past the fresh corpse to find a cloaked figure before him, a golden bow held at the ready. The hood was pulled far forward to shield their face as they scanned the area—they were ready to strike but realized by the silence that the enemy had been taken down.

Another silver tipped arrow glinted in the morning light as they relaxed their grip and slid it into the quiver on their back. It was then that they noticed the two men against the trees, approaching cautiously.

Bakugo stared them down, still unsure if he would need to explode their face like he had done the rogues. The cloaked figure stopped in front of him and regarded him quietly. The tip of the bow was placed beneath his chin and he growled, swatting it away.

“I don’t need coddling. The hell’s your name?”

The stranger said nothing, only cocked their head to the side which shrouded their face even further in shadows.

“I asked you for your name,” Bakugo repeated, pushing off of the tree and advancing toward them. His hands let off subtle pops and sparks, a small threat of what would come if he continued to receive no answer. “Tell me your damn name!”

Before he could come closer three arrows were pointed at him that, if fired, would pierce his neck, chest, and lower stomach. He froze, furious that this stranger had the audacity to threaten him but well aware of the deadly accuracy they held.

“Do you know who you’re fucking threatening? I’m Katsuki Bakugo, dragon master and next in line as leader of the Bakugo clan!”

“My sincerest apologies for assisting a barbarian prince in the first place if his thanks is to become aggressive,” a feminine voice sneered from beneath the hood.

His scowl morphed into surprise, not expecting a woman to be the cloaked stranger. Skilled female warriors were essential to his culture, his own mother a perfect example, but these lands were dangerous for anyone travelling alone and she didn’t appear to have a companion. Bakugo himself travelled with Kirishima as a second set of eyes to watch for rogues who would linger at the border of the Todoroki kingdom and the ungoverned wilderness.

“Don’t look so shocked, prince. I know your wildling women can fight just as well as your men. My skill should not surprise you.”

“I’m only surprised you’re reckless enough to travel alone,” he replied honestly, mindful of the arrows still aimed for vital areas. “Even I have the dragon with me.”

“Fair bit of good he did you here, eh?”

Bakugo glared at her. “He was injured when they ambushed us and the cowards hit him over the head when we got ready to strike back, but you’d probably know that much. Now you gonna lower those arrows or what?”

There was a long pause before she slowly lowered her bow and tucked the arrows back into her quiver, taking a tentative step back. She allowed the hood to fall back and expose her face for the first time, expression stoic as she said her name.

“Why are you travelling alone?

She strung the bow across her body easily before answering. “I’m going to the ports at the edge of the barrens to find a ship sailing to the western lands.”

“Why the west? You’re already in lawless territory,” he said, eyeing Kirishima’s still slumped form.

She followed his gaze and her features softened. Rummaging through her cloak she pulled out a dark purple pouch and moved to kneel in front of the redhead, holding the pouch below his nose. Kirishima’s face pinched and he turned away, his eyes blinking open as he groaned. She asked his name, and though it took a moment, he was able to answer with a slow exhale.

“Who’re you?” he slurred.

“The one with a good shot,” she chuckled, taking his hand to help him up. “I recognized the ones after you as you passed my campsite, so I followed and took aim. I’m just glad you’re alright aside from your back. I have healing salve if you’d like some.”

He smiled and thanked her as Bakugo snapped, “As if we need your help!”

She rolled her eyes as she found the salve in her cloak and handed it to the redhead. “Then I shall take my leave, prince.”

“Bakugo!” Kirishima chastised. “Stop being so rude to her, we should be grateful!”

He snatched the salve from him and spun him around roughly to help apply it. “Grateful?! A lone stranger inserting herself into our fight is nothing to be grateful for!”

“You’re all alone?” Kirishima asked her, frowning when she nodded. “These aren’t lands to be travelling alone. Where are you headed?”

“The southern ports. I’m going west.”

“We’re going that way! The tribe’s village is a few days’ trek from the shipyard so you can travel with us!”

“LIKE HELL SHE CAN!”

Ignoring the blonde’s outburst, she shook her head. “I appreciate your generosity but I don’t think it’s in anyone’s best interest for me to do that.”

“It isn’t manly to leave someone alone in these lands,” Kirishima argued, “and besides, you’re going the exact same way as we are. Wouldn’t you prefer to travel with us instead of on your own and wondering if the voices you’re hearing beyond your campsite are friend or foe?”

“The fuck you mean friend—”

“I… suppose that’s a good point,” she relented. “Though only if it won’t cause any problems.”

Kirishima grinned. “It won’t be a problem, we’re not savages!”

At his final word, Bakugo stiffened and his eye twitched in anger. It was the exact right thing to say to stop his protests because dammit it would be savage to leave someone to travel alone in ungoverned lands, wouldn’t it? Barbarian was one thing, wildling another, but savage was worse; barbarian meant violent, wildling meant free, savage meant immoral.

“Just keep up,” he finally said.

Summer faded quickly into autumn, the changing of the leaves in the forested areas turning the lush green leaves to warm oranges and reds that matched her travelling companions. Despite the divided feelings of her joining them she found herself more relaxed as they crossed the lands together though she remained vigilant.

The crisper air and shorter days brought others to their sights, but none interacted other than with wary side glances as they too forged on to their destination. Encounters with rogues were the opposite; the colder the weather the less likely they were to saddle their horses and pursue travelers.

Still, there were a few encounters that ended bloody with those who mistakenly thought they had an easy group of targets. The precision of arrows, explosions, and dragon claws easily proved them wrong and allowed the trio to keep a steady trickle of supplies available to them.

She grew closer to both of the men too as they crossed the wilderness albeit in different ways—Kirishima was a fast friend to her, always asking questions about her and speaking about himself and the adventures he had shared with Bakugo and their other companions. It was through one of these tales that she learned that they were both involved in the defeat of the Mage of Decay alongside her former fiancé and a slew of others she had met while at the Todoroki castle.

Bakugo’s additions to this retelling are what gave her pause and made her reevaluate her first impression of the explosive prince. Yes, he was brash and rude and standoffish to anyone but his best friend, but the passion with which he spoke when detailing his reasons for fighting alongside the prince, knights, a farm boy, and others was almost inspiring. He had wanted to protect his people knowing that the Mage’s intent was to conquer the entirety of the east, but he also wanted to prove himself as a warrior and worthy of one day ruling his tribe as their most powerful leader. It caused her to look at him in a different light, one that morphed easily from admiration to a building desire.

Unbeknownst to her, he had also reconsidered his opinion since their first meeting in the clearing.

Her skill with a bow impressed him more than he would ever admit aloud but as they travelled together he saw the true warrior she was. When there were signs of rogues her first thought was strategy and how to take them out in the quickest and most efficient way. Most instances included several plans that were possible and would cause the least damage to themselves and the surrounding areas.

She was fierce and seemingly unafraid, though he could see deeper to the insecurity she carried. What she carried it for he didn’t know, but it reminded him of himself. He saw within her the same desire to be respected, regarded for what she was good at, to be the best version of herself that she could. But there was uncertainty, and he wished he knew why because a growing part of him wanted to be the one to make it disappear.

It wasn’t until a bitter mid-winter evening that he gained the insight he had craved.

The fire crackled in the quiet of the night and Kirishima’s heavy breaths kept the small clearing warm as embers floated from his snout with every exhale, fizzling out before they could hit the ground. Delicate snowflakes danced their way through the air under the shroud of darkness and silence.

Bakugo stoked the flames every so often, his body tired but mind unable to stop its racing thoughts of the woman across from him.

“Do you realize we’ve seen over one hundred moons together?” she murmured, face to the stars.

“Over one hundred moons and I still don’t know more than your name and skill with a bow,” he replied.

She closed her eyes and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A heavy breath shook through her, emotion far more chilling than the winter air, and she levelled him with an unreadable expression as her eyes opened to lock with his.

“My family is from the golden lands of King All Might, my father a member of his council until his death. After he passed my mother inherited his wealth and we lived off of it for years in comfort but not as excessive as we once did when I was a child. She knew it would run out without someone working so she took a job as a seamstress and I helped where I could in the tailor shop. It wasn’t a bad life; I’d still be living it if I could.”

Bakugo listened to every word knowing she could stop at any moment and he would be left with more questions to ask than had been answered.

“My mother became ill and couldn’t work so I did everything I could to keep us fed and buy medications but it never seemed like it was enough. Until one day the princess of the Todoroki family visited the shop when the family came to the kingdom. She told me I was pretty, fit for a king and asked if I would be in the shop for the remainder of their visit because her brother, the prince who was the heir apparent, should meet me.”

“Fuyumi wanted to set you up with Half’n’Half?”

She blinked in surprise. “You call Shoto that?”

“He’s called me worse,” he smirked. “But keep talking. I want to know your story.”

“Well, I met Shoto,” she continued, “and he was… awkwardly charming, but very sweet. The problem arose when his father decided that the young seamstress would be a nice wife for his prince and offered my mother more gold than my father had ever brought home in his time on council for my hand. I… I didn’t want her to suffer through sickness in poverty if there was something I could do about it so I told her to accept King Endeavor’s offer and I would marry Shoto to keep her comfortable. She said if it wouldn’t make me happy to marry him I shouldn’t, but I told her if it kept her alive then I’d be happy.”

The fire’s light was just bright enough for him to see the thin tracks of tears beginning their descent from her lashes.

“I went to the Todoroki kingdom at spring’s first breath and by it’s last, I had learned palace etiquette and how to shoot a bow and arrow for the coronation ceremony, been custom made a gown of the finest materials only a royal could buy, and lost my mother to her illness.”

He stared at her in disbelief. Such a selfless act to marry not for romantic love but for the love of family and the desire to keep them comfortable, and she wouldn’t even be able to have that in the end.

“Shoto understood when I told him I couldn’t marry him and he encouraged me to stand up to his father in a way that he couldn’t, and so I left. Endeavor tried to burn me with his words and threats but I didn’t care; I had no family to mourn me and if I died, I died. But I didn’t. I took the golden bow and handcrafted quiver throughout the Todoroki kingdom and the golden lands but it wasn’t enough to explore or to build a home. Sometimes I still wonder if its honoring her wishes to cross these eastern lands with no true intention, so I decided that if the ungoverned territories didn’t bring me a place for roots or a desire to roam it further then I would go west. I just never expected a wildling prince and a dragon to be my companions to the southern port.”

Bakugo shifted beneath his cape awkwardly. He wasn’t very good at comfort or support but damn if she didn’t make him want to ease the ache of painful memories however he could.

“You made good decisions for the person you loved and when she passed, you honored her wishes to be happy. Half’n’Half wouldn’t have made you happy, you’d have just existed with him and had his colorful little heirs,” he said quietly, twirling the small tree limb between his fingers before adding, “And after one hundred moons, you can call this wildling prince by his given name.”

She smiled. “Thank you… Katsuki.”

Somehow his name on her tongue sent more shivers through him in one moment than the snow falling around them had all night.

“If you’re cold, we don’t have to wait until it’s time to sleep to get closer.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened at both her boldness and her ability to read him but he couldn’t deny that the closeness she was suggesting, something they had only done during sleep to conserve heat beneath Kirishima’s wing on the coldest of nights, was exactly how he wanted his waking hours to be spent. His time with her was limited as every day they drew closer to the shipyard that would take her west and right out of his life.

She stood, breaking him from his thoughts, and extended her hand to him over the fire. He rose slowly and took her outstretched hand, letting her guide him to where the sleeping dragon lay with his wings arced out on either side of him. Beneath one wing they had spread out a few furs as a makeshift bed with the intention of using Katsuki’s cape as a blanket as they had during previous nights.

He removed his cape from his shoulders as she laid in the furs, following just a minute later and draping the heavy cape over them both. It was familiar from past nights trying to conserve heat but now it held more significance when she curled close to his side and splayed a hand over his stomach. He wondered if she could hear his quickened heartbeat from where her head laid on his chest but chose to push the thought away as her lips pressed against his collarbone.

“You’re a good man,” she murmured between light, slow kisses up his neck and across his jaw.

His hand came up to the back of her neck and guided her to face him, features dim in the darkness. He didn’t speak, he only leaned forward to kiss her. When she pressed herself harder against him his hand fell to the small of her back and kept her close as they moved together.

Her fingers dipping just slightly below his waistband is what made him break away with a chuckle. “If that’s what you’re after, you think you can handle me?”

“I’m the only one who can.”

And as the night wore on he learned that she was more than capable, a fact he wanted to relearn in the dark of the night and any moment of the day she saw fit. The only true shock was that Kirishima, for being in the form of a beast with hypersensitive hearing, didn’t wake.

Somehow, as the winter months stretched on, he never did.

The stolen kisses and muffled moans in the darkness went unheard by the redhead, but the longing looks and brush of fingers on soft cheeks did not go unnoticed in the day. His silent acceptance of a sharp-toothed smile to each of them was enough. It was when the warmth of spring descended upon them that he began to worry, though. Each rise in the temperature drew them closer to the southern port and a ship headed west.

Bakugo too was acutely aware of the shortening amount of time he had with her. Over one hundred more moons had passed since the night they went to bed with the intention of more than sleep and every moon that rose in the sky was one closer to the night that she would no longer be next to him, every quiet plead of her voice was one closer to the last time he would hear it.

He knew she needed, wanted, deserved freedom. He could understand why the west appealed to her, but he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t wished upon every star in the sky that their eastern lands were enough to make her stay. Or maybe that he was enough to make her stay.

When dawn broke the morning they arrived at the ports he quietly asked Kirishima to give him the last of her moments on eastern soil alone with her. The redhead solemnly obliged and he kissed the crown of her head as the two set off.

It was quiet between them, words unspoken but understood—“don’t go” and “I have to”—as they walked into the shipyard.

Bakugo watched her speak with several captains until one agreed to allow her passage west on his cargo ship. Part of him longed for a change of heart by the captain while the other considered what part of the ship exploding would delay its journey the longest.

“Katsuki?”

He looked up, crimson eyes meeting hers as he felt his chest constrict.

“This has been an incredible adventure,” she said softly. “The day I found you and Kirishima in that clearing was a blessing, and you gave me a taste of the freedom I hope to find going forward. I… I truly wish this wasn’t goodbye.”

He stared at her for a long moment and watched her features morph into confusion and apprehension at his lack of a send-off. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he could give her one. Not when the ache in his chest had multiplied tenfold with every step on the dock.

He wasn’t good with words like she was, her training to be a princess and a queen showing through in the eloquent way she could turn a phrase. To beg would go against his upbringing, so he chose to make his point the only way he thought would reach her and his expression softened as he began to speak.

“They were wrong about you,” he murmured. “You’re not fit for a king, you’re so much more. You’re smart, you’re an expert markswoman, a brilliant strategist. You go on even when you feel you have no reason to.”

“You just want me to stay,” she said with a watery laugh. Behind her, the ship’s last few barrels were being loaded and a shout went up for stragglers to board.

“I do want you to stay, and it’s because I think you’re more than fit for a king… you’re fit to be queen. And if you stay, you will be. You’ll be queen of my tribe.”

Her jaw dropped in shock. “You want…”

“…you,” he finished as the call went out that the ship was ready to depart. “I want you to stay with me and be my queen. Become a Bakugo and you can have every bit of freedom you could ever want without worry and so much more.”

“Ask me properly and I’ll give you the answer you want,” she smiled, tears making their way slowly down her cheeks. “I just—”

He cut her off with a kiss, one hand coming up to gently cradle the back of her neck and the other falling to her waist as he pressed himself against her. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she wound her arms around him beneath his cape, fingers brushing the dip of his lower back. The noise of the dock faded, the bell of the ship she had intended to board ringing as it left the port paid no mind.

“Will you marry me?” he asked against her lips. The hand on her neck slid forward to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheek tenderly.

“Yes,” she whispered, “of course, Katsuki.”

He smirked, kissing each of her cheeks before taking her hand in his. Interlacing their fingers together they began to retreat from the shipyard with wide smiles on each of their lips.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “For everything.”

He clicked his tongue. “Tch, don’t thank me for anything. Being your husband means I would do anything for you. I’d bring you the heart of any man you asked.”

“You say that as if I couldn’t get it myself,” she replied slyly, reveling in the twisting pout of lips in annoyance but also acceptance that she was right. A small victory.

But the greater victory came when they approached the barbarian village where the Bakugo tribe had laid their roots, cheers rising as Kirishima’s red scales glinting against the setting sun announced their arrival far before she and Katsuki’s boots reached their borders.

When they entered the sizable village questions were thrown at them almost immediately as the journey on which their prince had set out had not included finding a pretty woman to bring home. Annoyed at all the voices Bakugo had snapped at them but was quickly reprimanded by a tall blonde woman draped in a jeweled cape, the resemblance strikingly obvious as she introduced herself as his mother Mitsuki.

The members of the tribe were dismissed as she and her husband led her and Katsuki into a darkened hut—one she quickly realized belonged to the prince at her side—and demanded to know the adventure from which they had returned. Delight had spread across her face when she learned of this foreign woman’s skill with a bow and her smile grew wider still when Katsuki announced proudly that she would be his wife and the new queen of their people.

“I can only hope he brings you the happiness I can see that you bring him,” his father, Masaru, murmured as his wife and son spoke loudly of when the wedding would take place.

She watched the mother/son duo fondly, chuckling when alcohol was produced in celebration. “He already has.”

For several days she and Katsuki observed both Mitsuki and Masaru’s duties as the queen and king of the tribe, learning the roles they would take over once the wedding ceremony was complete. It was fast, much faster than when she had been in the Todoroki kingdom, but she supposed that free folk didn’t really need such extensive formalities.

But it did unnerve her to know that she would be taking on the title of a queen so quickly when she barely knew the customs of the tribe. Though each member had introduced themselves and given her well wishes in her marriage to their prince, she felt the positivity was misplaced.

Katsuki had been swift with vocalizing his own confidence in her when she told him her fears one night as they lie in the darkness of their hut.

“They only need someone who will support them and uphold the morals our village has carried for centuries. You already do that for me so just be you, silly woman.”

And while it didn’t dispel all of her worries it lessened the toll they had been taking on her significantly, and she thought again how grateful she was that she had Katsuki by her side.

She thought it often, really, in the days leading up to their wedding. Without knowing much but what she would wear, she pushed her worries aside and only indulged in her curiosities. She asked many questions about her title and what restrictions it held, what rights she had if something were to happen to her husband, and so much more. The only questions that went unanswered were about the approaching nuptials and she made it a point to ask Katsuki at his most gentle moment when she needed the knowledge most.

That meant that her best chance was after intimacy, less than an hour before they were to meet in front of the large fire the village had assembled the day prior.

“You haven’t told me anything and the ceremony starts within the hour. Are there traditions to honor?” she asked as she took her time changing from her every day clothing into the wedding attire the queen had given her that morning.

“Yeah,” he grunted, lounging back lazily in the bed and enjoying the sight of her, “but they’re not formal like you’re probably used to from your princess days.”

“I’m marrying a wildling prince who will become a king and I his queen, formal is the last thing I’d expect, Katsuki.”

He snorted. “You’re gonna be half naked and covered in blood.”

“My own?”

“No, mine. I’ll be covered in your blood.”

“I’m gonna need some context, love.”

A feral grin spread across his face and he rose from the bed to cross over to her, his body completely bare. Pressing himself against her back, he trailed his hands up her sides under her tunic and nipped at her neck before whispering, “What good are vows if only words are exchanged? Actions mean more, and what better than the rushing of blood, the very thing that keeps us alive?”

She shivered as she tipped her head back against his shoulder. She opened her mouth to reply, but a shout from beyond the door cut her off.

“KATSUKI! YOU KNOW YOU NEED TO FIND YOUR FATHER TO GET READY, DO NOT MAKE ME DRAG YOU OUT!”

His expression soured at the sound of his mother’s voice but he pulled away, scooping his trousers from the floor and pulling them up his legs. Turning back to her, his gaze softened.

“I’ll see you by the fire,” he said. A promise he wouldn’t, couldn’t break.

She smiled as he kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait.”

He moved toward the door just as his mother swung it open, biting insults exchanged as they passed one another, and he was gone.

Mitsuki smiled as she closed the door behind her. The way she scrutinized her half-dressed from made her flush from embarrassment at not being completely ready, only the dark pants sitting at her hips.

“Are you ready to learn your role for the ceremony?”

“Of course,” she replied, nerves twisting in her stomach. She wished there was more time to prepare, that she had been told something prior to the eleventh hour. Regardless, she listened intently as Mitsuki walked her through the simple ceremony and the phrasing of her vows.

She was able to repeat them back easily several times to show her mother-in-law that she had them memorized, the older woman nodding proudly at each completion. As she repeated them, she continued to dress herself in the traditional outfit of the tribe; she had donned it all save for the long strip of dark fabric that would serve as her shirt, a tight twist at her bust unable to cooperate as she tried to hold it up while tying it.

“Could… could you help me with the top?” she asked, cheeks flushed. “I can’t tie it tight enough.”

Mitsuki smiled warmly. “Of course. Turn around.”

She did as instructed and held the cloth tightly to her chest, making sure the twist was centered and her breasts covered properly. Mitsuki pulled it taut and looped back around her torso before tying it securely behind her back. Once her hands left her, she dropped her arms from where she had been holding the fabric and looked into the reflective surface of the shield mounted on the wall of the hut.

What she saw was a far cry from the girl who had once turned down a prince; black charcoal lined her eyes and matched the black ink on her left arm, still red from the tattooing process that morning, and she was showing more skin that others would be seeing than she ever had before outside of her intimate moments with Katsuki. Red gems interwoven with various sharp animal teeth hung from her neck.

Her silent marveling must have been mistaken for hesitance as Mitsuki cautiously asked, “Are you… unsure of this?”

She turned back to the blonde woman quickly. “No! No, I just—I’ve never looked like this before. I’ve always covered myself for modesty’s sake but now I don’t answer to anyone who would demand it.”

“This life gives you freedom to choose your own path and others who will support your decisions, even selfish ones, so long as you truly find your peace within them. Its why Katsuki lives the way he does. My only wish for him from the moment he was born under the hot sun was for him to live as he saw fit and love just the same. And look, it brought you to him.”

She gave her a smile and carefully picked up the small scabbard for her dagger, adjusting it so that it sat comfortably on her hip. “I had thought that being in that clearing the day he and Kirishima were ambushed was just luck, but now I think that it was exactly where I was meant to be.”

Mitsuki placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, her other hand fastening the final touch to the twist of her top: a golden brooch.

The noise from outside the hut grew louder, and the two women knew it was time.

She hung back as the older woman went out first to cheers and whistles. Then, after a moment, she exited the hut and was greeted with an even louder reception than the queen. The respect they held for her already after so little time knowing her was shocking, but she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Head held high, she took her place between Mitsuki and the large fire separating the metaphorical alter from the members of the tribe. Masaru stood behind and to the left of his wife, and Bakugo stood across from her. When she met his eye, she couldn’t help the hitch in her breathing and shamelessly took in the sight of him.

The fur lined cape around his shoulders was darker in color than his usual scarlet one, older and more faded, likely traditional. His necklaces had been polished and sat proudly on his bare chest, broad and defined in the light of the fire. His tattoo was to their audience, muscular arms flexed as his thumbs were strung through the beltloops of his black pants. A golden buckle that matched her brooch secured his belt and the leather scabbard for his own dagger sat against his thigh. Darker fur boots were also different than his usual choice, but again she cited it as a probable tradition.

Mitsuki clapped her hands together once and silence descended on the gathering, then brought her hands out in a sweeping gesture to the bride and groom.

They each took the other’s dagger from their beltloop and cut across both palms widely, blood welling to the surface. When the daggers were sheathed they reached out and clasped their hands in front of them, blood flowing steadily down their fingers.

“A king cannot rule alone,” Mitsuki began. “Nor can a queen. As Masaru came to stand by my side decades ago, she now comes to stand by Katsuki’s.”

The light of the fire cast him in a warm glow, ruby eyes intense as he listened to his mother and watched his bride. Had he looked away since they came to stand in front of one another?

“Marriage is a partnership in our clan, one spouse does not rule the other but each contribute equally. What do you bring to this union?”

Katsuki brought his hand up to her face, careful not to touch her but with his thumb as he spoke, drawing a red line of his blood across her cheek with each promise he made. “I bring you protection in the night, as the moon should only shine. I bring you a respect the likes of which you’ve never known. I bring you the opportunity to travel these lands without fear.”

“I bring you protection in the day, as the sun should only shine,” she murmured, her own hand rising to paint bloody streaks across his cheek. “I bring you a respect the likes of which you’ve never known. I bring you the opportunity to travel these lands without fear.”

A smirk graced each of their lips as the vows continued and they spoke in unison, one bloody palm splaying across the other’s lower stomach to leave a handprint.

“I bring you pleasure each moment you are willing and a future in children fit to rule when you are gone.”

Her hand came to rest on his bare chest over his heart and his laid over hers just above the fabric tied around her chest.

“I bring you a life of adventure and years of contentment.”

Finally, their hands rose one last time to cup the other’s clean cheek. A slow, careful kiss followed, and with the warmth of the other’s lips still lingering on their own they spoke their last vow.

“I bring you love for the rest of your days.”

Their hands dropped and they faced the fire to see the rest of the tribe as an audience on the other side of it. Glancing at one another, they laced their bloodied fingers together once again.

“And so it is my last act as your leader to present to you your new king and queen,” Mitsuki proclaimed. She then stepped back into the shadows to give them their moment, Masaru at her side.

Katsuki raised their joined hands and the fire illuminated the red handprints and smears of blood across their bodies. Cheers rose in celebration from the crowd and Kirishima shifted to breathe flames into the starry sky.

She could only smile proudly next to her new husband. Fit for a king, fit to be queen—it didn’t quite matter so long as Katsuki was by her side.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! The wedding ceremony is probably one of my favorite moments I’ve ever written so I’d especially love to hear your thoughts on that!

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reviewabeautifulstory · 3 years

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Until We Meet Again: Episode 4 Review

(Gonna caveat that this review was written after I watched episode 10)

Ya know, it’s really lucky that Pharm is a better cook than In ever was because otherwise Team and Manaow would probably starve! But I love how passionate they are in supporting the other’s interests. They really are a caring bunch. It’d be very easy for Pharm to use Team to get close to Dean, or Team and Manaow to take advantage of Pharm’s generosity in making their meals, but nope, there never appears to be any hidden motivations. I can completely take their interactions at face value and just sit back and enjoy their wonderful friendship. I loved Team’s promise to protect Pharm from anyone who approaches him but Team will support him flirting with the one he likes! That’s a friendship goal right there!

And just like that, a love rival appears! Or possibly a love rival wannabe? 🤔 Team might have to make good on that promise sooner rather than later. To be blunt, I don't think Alex has a chance in hell. Maybe if Pharm hadn't seen Dean first, he might've had a tiny chance of at least being taken seriously as a love rival but Pharm only has eyes for Dean, and Dean doesn't strike me as someone who would get jealous of Alex's interest in Pharm. Annoyed definitely but not jealous because there’s nothing to be jealous of. Despite how quiet he is, Pharm is very sociable and popular and I think if Dean got jealous and petty over everyone Pharm interacted with, he’d exhaust himself before the day was over! There’s much more fun activities to expend one’s energy on!

OK, so I personally think confidence is quite a sexy trait to possess. There's absolutely nothing wrong with anyone being self-assured and unabashed. Just look at Dean and Win. They're both (outwardly) confident. They know they're attractive and while they have different styles, they're both flirty. However, there is a fine line between that and egotistical. I found Alex's arrogance a little too forthright and his blatant disregard for Pharm's discomfort was not attractive. There is recognising when someone is playing hard to get or just plain not interested and Alex seems far too used to having people falling at his feet. I'm actually looking forward to Pharm or Dean (or both – maybe that'll get the message across better!) lay down the law that it ain't gonna happen! Selfishly though when this little side plot appeared, I did hope it wouldn't get dragged out for the entire season arc. Love triangles – unless done exceptionally well, which is honestly pretty rare – can get repetitive very quickly! So while I don’t mind them, the more concise a love triangle plot is, the better in my personal opinion.

I did enjoy watching the brief glimpse we had of Manaow in her natural environment on stage! And I was really pleased she got a role in her play! I hope we get to see at least a little bit of the performance.

I was really hoping we’d get to see some more swim club shots and this episode didn’t disappoint! We finally got to see Dean and Win in action! We were treated to some great shots and I liked the healthy competition between them. Actually the locker room scene between them just before was good too. I’m liking their friendship and the little insights it allows us into their thoughts.

This world is really starting to flesh out a lot. Del is really growing on me. She bounces really well off of Manaow's bubbly personality and I hope we see a lot more of her. While no less excitable, she's not as loud about it as Manaow so it doesn't feel repetitive or risk them blurring into one person; they remain distinct. She’s an incredibly sweet character and her wanting to have a better relationship with her big brother is heart-warming. I could literally see the cogs turning in Pharm’s head during Del’s speech and I hope he can find some way to balance seeing Dean without hogging all his time and taking him away from the other people in his life. It’s so very easy to let other relationships fall by the wayside when you’re in that beginning phase of a new romance so hopefully they’ll work it out!

And Del can throw a death glare with the best of them and I love her for it! I'm not sure whether any of it is tempered by jealously – does she maybe like Alex? He certainly seems to be exceptionally popular on campus but honestly unless he gets a personality transplant by the end of the series, she can probably do better!

And of course, we end with another punch to the feels with that birthmark conversation. What a place to end the episode. I’m glad that Dean is there for Pharm. Maybe now they can help each other deal with these flashback/memory/lucid dreams thing they’ve got going on. And I think we might be getting different angles of their deaths every time because I’m pretty sure the first episode we cut away when Korn shot whereas this episode showed it and my heart is not OK.

I’m actually pretty amazed by just how much this show can pack into each episode! There is always so much going on but the pacing remains strong and it never feels rushed.

#until we meet again #uwma #uwma episode reviews #dean x pharm #win x team #korn x in #uwma dean #uwma pharm #uwma win #uwma team #uwma korn #uwma intouch #uwma manaow #uwma del #Thai BL #bl drama #BL series #tw suicide

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cosleia · 4 years

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A request from Twigbelly on Twitter:

“if someone could put his forehead through a plate-glass coffeine table, that’d be great thanks”

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde, Part IV: Not Okay, Boomer

INCIDENT REPORT Date of incident: Time of incident:

“Hux. I’m Supreme Leader. I don’t need to fill out paperwork about this.”

“I’m sorry, Ren, but at the time of the incident you were not the Supreme Leader. You were moonlighting as an intern, and if you wish to continue playing pretend on your off hours, Intern Randy needs to fill out this form.”

“Come on. You like it.”

“...that is immaterial to the issue at hand.”

“If an intern really killed a general, they’d be executed, Hux. This is a murder confession. It’d be better to just leave it alone.”

“It would not. Allegiant General Pryde is dead, and people saw it happen. There needs to be an official story. The Supreme Leader will pardon Randy, of course.”

“...This is ridiculous.”

Location of incident: intern quarters Nature of incident: accidental death

“Accidental.”

“Yes, accidental.”

“I didn’t know grabbing someone by the back of the neck and slamming their head through a caf table could be done accidentally.”

“You want me to fill this out or not?”

“By all means, continue.”

Person(s) involved in incident: intern randy, allegiant general pryde

“You should have used full names.”

“That is Randy’s full name.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I mean, does he need a last name? All he does is suck General Hux’s dick.”

“...I suppose not. In truth, he doesn’t really need a name at all, does he? Well, go on, then.”

Description of incident: general pryde said something he should not have. general pryde should not have been in the intern quarters anyway. general pryde’s disloyalty was dealt with.

“You’ll need to be more specific than that, Randy.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hux.”

general pryde’s head smashed into a caf table and he died.

“No, not that part. Back up a bit.”

“Back up?”

“Yes. To the part where he said something he shouldn’t.”

“...you want that on public record?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Ren. The record must be complete.”

“If you say so...”

general pryde said he could help ambitious interns become officers. he leered at everyone and put his hands on his hips and pushed his pelvis out like a creep. he said

“...are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely certain.”

he said general hux had ‘taken advantage of his generosity’ and that’s how he became a general, which was NOT true.

“Can I add something else?”

“Is it relevant?”

“I think it is.”

“Fine.”

general hux would never have been interested in whatever gross, ugly, old-ass, shriveled-up thing general pryde has in his pants.

“You’re laughing.”

“It’s just—very well said, Ren.”

general pryde was stupid and useless. he wasn’t worthy to even look at general hux.

“...Well. You didn’t need to go so far as to mock me, Ren.”

“I’m not mocking you.”

“How else do you explain what you just wrote?”

“I just wrote what’s true.”

“You mean to tell me you believe that?”

“Yes.”

“...You’ve never said anything like that before.”

“I haven’t?”

“You haven’t.”

“...”

general hux deserves the entire galaxy. he is strong and brave and beautiful. no one should ever hurt him. I someone hurt him once and they know they can never take it back and

“Ren.”

I’m sorry. I love you.

“Ren.”

“What.”

“Look at me.”

“...”

“Say it to my face.”

“I’m sorry.”

“...not that. The...other thing.”

“I...love you?”

“Sith hells, are you telling me or asking me?”

“I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you. I love—mmmmph!”

“Ren—did you—create Randy—because—because you thought—I wouldn’t have you?”

“Yes—Hux—Fuck.”

“I’ve loved you—since the first day—shit—first day I met you. How do you—get this off—”

“There’s a clasp—Hux—Hux—yes—there—”

“I love you—you big oaf—you ridiculous creature—”

“Hux—I love you—I love you—”

“Oh—oh, fuck—”

“Hux, I’m—”

“Ren—!”

“...”

“...shit, it got on the report.”

“No matter. I wasn’t going to submit it anyway.”

“What.”

“It wasn’t for the records. It was...for me.”

“What? Hey, come back here. What do you mean?”

“I just wanted...evidence. Something to remember it by. Even if it wasn’t real.”

“Hux.”

“Yes. Well.”

“It was real. It is real. You know that now. Right?”

“I. That is. Er.”

“You know. Your face is red.”

“Shut up, Ren.”

“I know you know. But...”

“But what?”

“From now on I’ll prove it to you, every day, just in case.”

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde series on AO3

#star wars #kylux #intern randy #my writing #ficlet #the deaths of allegiant general pryde #epistolary #plus #dialogue

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queenharumiura · 3 years

Note

Xanxus, Squalo, Mammon

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||

Xanxus: If someone wronged you or lied to you, how would you react? Would you hold a grudge?

If i’m wronged, I either just bounce out, or I directly confront the other person so we can talk things out. If I know the other person doesn’t want to talk, I simply bow out. I can hold age-long grudges, but if someone sincerely apologizes and states they will try to not do the same thing again, i’m very willing to forgive people. I wouldn’t hold a grudge afterwards, but I would be wary for a while.

Squalo: What do you think is your strongest aspect, or what do you have the most pride in (personality trait, skill, appearance, ect)?

Probably generosity? I like being able to help people by either donating my time or monetary donating. I never do it to get anything out of it, aside from hoping that one day they will pay the favor forward to someone else in need of help. It’s something i’ve been taken advantage of before, but I don’t regret trying to help.

Mammon: Is there anything you can be greedy with? Food, materials, or anything?

I’m pretty willing to share/give away most things as long as anyone asks it of me, but I can think of one thing that I absolutely will be a greedy dragon about, and it deals with adoptable characters on dA lol. If I see a design I particularly like, you best hope there isn’t an autobuy option, because I will be there. I don’t care. It will be mine. If I must join an auction, I will. Nothing stands between me and a design I particularly like. Aside from that, I’m pretty chill.

#Belacedia #Meme answered #answered ask #thanks for the ask!#Neo speaks

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astrogone · 4 years

Text

ANXIOUS MUNDAY MEME

@seekesotsibteadmist: What is something you want people to know right away about yourself?

PLEASE REMEMBER I AM EXTREMELY SLOW AT EVERYTHING!!!! I swear, there is a no apologizing for quick or late replies oocly and icly policy in this household because if you message me with an apology over that, you may get my response after a few days, if not a week, and I get so embarrassed like shdjsjd please, don’t be sorry at all. I get every reason behind any pace of the responses, so do not ever feel bad or anything replying to me too late or too quickly. Hell, you can take a whole damn MONTH to reply to me oocly or icly and I’ll still act like I would only be waiting for a day and be like “Ah! My friend! I love you”... But yeah, while I am easily distracted and exhausted to do this stuff, I usually have to reply back to ten to fifteen people oocly, and I will always have many people to reach out to when we haven’t interacted yet ( which if you haven’t interact to me yet, please, this is invitation that you can slap yourself in my IMs Now ), and my social energy / motivation to interact with people? It’s erratic as Hell. Also, I usually take way too much time replying to a post / message when it shouldn’t be the case. Like? For me to reply to a one paragraph in the thread will take me at least an hour to two. If you straight just say hi to me and ask how am I doing, it’ll take me at least five minutes to ten to just answer your very simple question.

I have an intellectual disability that gives me difficulties reading the given information, understanding them, and responding to them at a pace the average amount of people can do, but I can’t. The longest time you can get from me oocly is usually six days. Icly though? Boy, am I a lost cause with that. It can be anytime as I can reply to our thread for a month later, if not longer, I will have to let that be known, lmfao... But you’re more than welcome to give me a nudge for anything anytime. It may not get a quicker response from me anyway, knowing me, but just know that my silence towards you while I’m being noisy on dash or to others or such has nothing to do with you, ever. At least with oocly, I try to prioritize replying to people who I haven’t replied to the longest over those that I have done so recently, but I’m an absolute slow and low mess at everything, so! As that’s something I can never change, unfortunately, I can only wish that everyone interacting with me would be grateful for what we have already.

@sinisteraugurey: How much anxious internal screaming goes on with you on a regular basis?

It’s a 24/7 thing, man. I would just try to distract myself with whatever is in my way to block them, but, yeah, it just really be like that with me. Last night while I was trying to sleep, I kept staring at my window in concern because it had these shadows constantly moving behind the curtains, and there’s that small part of me that KNEW it’s just the tree branches that got caught in the lights of the streetlights, but, my mind kept telling me “they’re coming” and I was just constantly like,, “who tho,,, omg,,,,” but,, think about it,,,, I live in the sixth floor of a building, so how the Hell could the shadows reach up there?¿...

@vsentis & @arsonbeast: What’s a tip you would give to people trying to get to know you?

Ask me questions from something simple like what’s my favourite colour to something over the top like how often do I get existential crisis lmfao even if it’s completely out of the blue or we don't know each other well yet, I wouldn’t ever mind answering them at all. As well if / whenever you are comfortable, talk about yourself as it will usually prompt me to do the same in return. I often don’t throw facts about myself to others because I think it would have others feel like they would be suddenly placed in a position of having to bring up information about themselves to me and I know not many people are comfortable to talk about themselves and / or their lives when they’re on this Hellsite to write and develop, which is totally understandable and I’m more than okay to be interacted with for just writing / plotting.

On a different note, I am planning to create a Carrd about my interests ( like what shows, music artists, etcetera I’m familiar with ) and slap it on my pinned post so it can give others a chance to get to know me more and bring them up to me to break down any tension from their end, so you can randomly pop into my DMs like “biTCH yOU WATCH B.UZZEED U.NSOLVED!?¡¿” and I’d be like “FUCK YE A H, I DO” and create chaos from there sndnsmd

@vsentis: Is communication important to you?

Beyond important. I personally think communication is THE most important aspect in not just roleplaying, but in general. It’s what builds a strong relationship with the parties. The more they will interact with each other with a lot of patience and understanding, the higher chance that trust and comfort can be built stronger and tighter within a connection. Now, what do I have to say with me? I love talking to people, even when I’m a slow motherfucker at it and I get extremely frustrated and sad at the fact. I love when people talk to me and I can read about their days, personal projects, characters, so forth. I want people to feel that they can trust me and be comfortable coming to me for anything from a random chat to ranting / venting. Man, just straight up slap my DMs with a random photo of a forest and I’ll just not shut up about the time I nearly got lost in the forest.

Now, it does take time for me to reach out to people first, at least usually not because of IC related like plotting calls. For me to come to you randomly and talk about anything not roleplaying related? Again, I can’t be sure if people are comfortable with talking about themselves and their lives, but the more they come to me first for random ooc conversations, the more comfortable I will be to reach out to them first for so frequently. Another thing I do want to mention that if I do or say anything wrong or it’s making you uncomfortable, please? Reach out to me? I mean, I get that people aren’t obliged to teach others and whatnot, so do what you gotta do it the block and follow buttons to avoid wasting more energy and time, but it would truly help a lot with me and anyone else who I am / will interact with in the future. Just be honest with me and share your thoughts to me— I will listen and take them in mind. I absolutely hate to make people uncomfortable without knowing and I would be extremely appreciative if I was told why so I can be more considerate in the future.

@goldenornstein: Do random asks out of the blue upset you at all?

Not at all! In fact, I encourage sending me random asks! It might take a bit for me to reply like anything else, but I LOVE random asks! Makes me go “!!!” whenever I see a number on that mail symbol thingy. So, send me random memes, random thoughts, straight up just slap the word, P.ikachu, in the ask and send it to me and I’ll be like, “me fucking too, pal” jsjdkdk

@seekesotsibteadmist: What are some things you worry about in terms of new people?

I know I apologize for rambling or taking a long time to reply, but in the end, people being impatient or easily annoyed by me or whatever are my least worries. What I should be more concerned about but am somehow not is if this person actually holds good intentions with a good mindset. Even though I had my generosity taken advantage of way too many times by way too many people who I thought were really good friends in real life and online, I still? Somehow don’t ever think about the possibility that this person is actually very shitty when I interact with them as much as I should, considering how absolutely chaotic this site is. Being cautious is highly draining for me personally as I literally just want to vibe, so…

Just know that I take anyone in who my mutuals haven’t mentioned on their rules page ( yet if I do happen to interact with your abusers or people you’re not uncomfortable with because they’re doing / saying predatory / harmful things? Lemme know and I’ll instantly get out of their hair— you don't even need to give me an explanation, just don’t hesitate to say their URL and I’ll do my shit ), but I will instantly kick them off of my household the moment I see or learn anything from them that is predatory or harmful to people. If you do / say something that I don’t like, like misgender my muses or keep godmodding my muses or whatever, I’ll let you know how I feel, but if you’re gonna be stalking people, being disrespectful / abusive to anyone based on their genders, sexualities, ethnicities, disabilities, etcetera, write / make headcanons based those disgusting things we all know what, and so forth? I will hardblock and never look back, and that’s that.

#long post cw #( because I dread that the read mores isn’t working but )#//#( really took me close to three hours to reply to all of these shdjsjd )#( thank you guys so much for sending these though! )#( this actually makes me feel better / less anxious )#( knowing that people will see what’s up with me especially with how TERRIBLE I am at replying so )#( bless y’all ;; )#( now I want to take a nap I am so hshdhJSJS @ myself )#࿐ ˚ . ‧✧̣̇‧⎛ ooc ⎠ : ❝ take me far from here . ❞

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aubreyweston · 4 years

Text

vignettes from a visit home

When: Monday, May 4-Sunday, May 10

Where: Mostly Saint Paul, Minnesota

Who: Aubrey and his brother, mother and soon-to-be sister-in-law, Kyle the roommate

Warnings: excessive alcohol use, violence, brief fatshaming of a dog

Word Count: 5,615

When Aubrey spotted his brother waiting for him as he emerged from the arrivals door at the airport, he nearly sagged with relief. He weaved past people, shooting Brody an exhausted smile once they were close enough to talk.

“Hey man, thanks for coming to get me,” he said.

Brody reached over to ruffle his hair, and then grabbed his bag from him. “Anytime, twerp.”

Once they were in the car, Aubrey reached over to turn the radio on but Brody batted his hand away. “Nuh uh. Nope. Not that easy. What’s up, dude? Not that we’re not thrilled to see you but… this is pretty sudden. Mom said you were coming home after your exams.”

Great. He couldn’t escape the third degree anywhere it seemed. His head throbbed. He’d really taken advantage of Quinn’s generosity.

“Stuff just happened. I… I needed to get out of New York.” He stared at his palms, clenching and unclenching his right hand. He really hoped he hadn’t broken Kyle’s nose.

Brody was quiet for a moment, focused on the road, but Aubrey knew his brother and knew it wouldn’t last.

“You still talking to Dr. Banks?”

There it was. Aubrey thunked his head against his seat’s headrest.

“Yes, Brody. I’m still talking to Dr. Banks. I’m still taking my meds. It’s —” he bit his lip hard, and then ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“I’m fine. I missed you. I missed mom. I missed Hansel and Gretel. Am I not allowed to impulsively fly home every once in a while?”

Brody looked dubious, but he shrugged. “Yeah. You are. Of course you are.”

“How’s Olivia?” Aubrey asked, desperate to change the subject. Getting Brody to talk about his fiancee was low-hanging fruit, but he’d take him droning on about his future sister-in-law if it’d get him to stop asking questions.

It worked. His brother immediately launched into a detailed explanation of their wedding plans and how happy he was to finally be marrying her, and Aubrey was able to lean his head against the cool window and shut his eyes as Brody rambled on.

After what only felt like a few minutes, Brody was shaking Aubrey awake, but sure enough they were in front of their house. Aubrey had complicated feelings about the place. It inspired both a healthy dose of fear and an immense wave of calm all at once. He supposed that was the warring influence of both his parents.

Before he could even get to the door, it was opening, and his mom was standing there, and before Aubrey even realized what he was doing, he’d flung himself at her, hugging her tightly and burying his face into her neck. “Hi mama,” he mumbled.

Just the feeling of her good arm wrapping around him had him sniffling. “Welcome home, baby,” she said.

He finally pulled back, wiping at his eyes and forcing a smile onto his face. He was sure he’d already freaked her out. He didn’t want to make it worse.

She took his chin in her hand, examining him for a moment. Aubrey didn’t know what she was looking for but she didn’t seem to have found it because she made a soft tutting noise before pulling him inside.

Aubrey’d been busy steadfastly ignoring the semi-constant vibrations coming from his phone when Brody had unceremoniously invited himself inside without bothering to knock, and took a seat on his bed.

“You smell like alcohol,” his brother said matter-of-factly. “If I can smell it, mom definitely did too.”

Aubrey rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting his brother’s eyes. He wondered in the back of his mind if Brody ever resented having an absolute basketcase for a sibling.

“Are you going to arrest me for being underage, officer?”

“That’s not the point and we both know it. Does your shrink know?”

Aubrey blinked, and then lied through his teeth, hoping Brody wouldn’t see through the cracks.

“He knows, Brody. I’m fine.”

A scoff, and then Brody was elbowing him over so he could lie down next to him.

“Seriously, Aubrey, what happened?”

Aubrey was quiet, and thankfully Gretel padded inside and hopped onto his chest. He smiled at her, and then scratched her behind the ears. Her purrs eased the icy grip of anxiety that he’d felt around his throat since Santana’s party. “I missed you Grets,” he whispered, giggling a bit as she started to kneed his chest with her itty bitty paws.

“I’m taking Olivia to Como Park in a bit,” Brody said, cutting through the shreds of peace he’d finally managed to grab onto. “You’re coming too.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, so Aubrey didn’t bother responding. Instead he pressed a kiss to Gretel’s little nose.

When Brody stood up, Aubrey finally looked at him. “Can you take my phone? If it buzzes one more time I might smash it and I can’t afford a new one right now.”

Brody watched him for a long moment, and then sighed, grabbing the device and pocketing it before finally leaving Aubrey alone.

Como Park had been fine. Olivia had kept up a steady chatter, and responding to her in a decently normal manner had kept him sufficiently occupied. The plants in the conservatory were breathtaking as usual, and he’d actually found a spark of something resembling joy in the pit that’d taken over his chest once they’d wandered through the zoo.

“Which one was your favourite, Aubrey?” Olivia asked, shooting him an enthusiastic smile. Aubrey felt kind of bad for her. She made such an effort and he knew he was giving her barely any back.

“I kind of loved them all,” he said slowly, tilting his head to the side. “But I think the polar bear was my favourite… or the snow leopard.”

“I liked the tamarins. Both kinds. They were so cute. Weren’t they cute, Brody?” Olivia directed this question at his brother, and swung their clasped hands between them. She looked disgustingly fond.

Aubrey’s ember of a good mood abruptly flickered out. He wondered if it was too late to go back and throw himself in the tiger cage and wait for one of them to decide it was hungry.

When they’d gotten home, he’d immediately scooped up Gretel and then gone to pry open one of the kitchen cabinet’s toe-kicks while his mom, Brody and Olivia were all distracted. He’d stashed alcohol in there all through high school and when he’d quit he hadn’t bothered to get rid of what was left. If luck was on his side, no one had found his cache and emptied it.

It turned out that maybe the tides were turning in his favour for the first time this week, because he emerged victorious, a dusty but untouched bottle of Smirnoff clutched in his hand.

Thank fuck. He kicked the toe-kick into place, scooped up Gretel, and did his best to hide the booze behind her flank in case he ran into anyone on the way back to his room.

His fears were unfounded because he safely made his way back to his room. None of the bedrooms had locks. His dad had taken them all off the doors, demanded to know what any of them could possibly want to hide from him. No one had bothered to put them back after he was arrested. There didn’t seem to be much of a point.

Still, the lack of lock was inconvenient now. He kicked the door shut and then deposited Gretel on the ground, and then grabbed his desk chair and dragged it over to the door, wedging it under the handle to make it harder to open. That’d have to be enough.

Satisfied, he sat down on his bed and opened the bottle he’d pilfered. He hadn’t meant to get as drunk as he did but his tolerance had gone down drastically compared to when he’d get drunk behind the bleachers in high school.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out instinctively, and then squinted at it. Sebastian’s name was bright on the screen. His heart lurched, and he couldn’t stop himself from thumbing the messages open and reading them all.

He tried to untangle the knot that was his feelings. Part of him ached to reply. Something about the messages warmed him up from the inside. Stupid Sebastian, with his dumb smirk and pretty eyes and endless persistence. Aubrey wanted to strangle him.

He also really, really wanted to kiss him again.

He took another long sip and got onto his feet, pacing around his room in circles, the bottle still clutched in his hand.

Fuck, Sebastian. And not like that. This… this was his fault. He didn’t know how exactly or why but it was. Ever since they’d met it’d been the same pattern. It was inescapable, despite every one of Aubrey’s best efforts to get him to knock it off.

He’d just kept trying. Fucking stubborn, persistent prat. And now… and now...

Before Aubrey’d realized what was happening, he’d already driven his fist into the wall. The drywall broke inwards, and Aubrey’s hand throbbed. He pulled back, though the pain had felt good. Felt familiar. He punched at it again with the same hand, letting the ache in his knuckles roll over him. The pain was good. Real. Something he could control. He whirled back towards his bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until his throat was sore.

A series of texts to various people in his phone and another hole in the wall later, Aubrey finally felt tired enough to shove his phone under his pillow, close the vodka and roll it under his bed.

He burrowed his head under his blankets to block out the setting sun and closed his eyes.

Someone was being loud. And letting in light in. Aubrey hissed and burrowed his face into his pillow, trying to cling to sleep for as long as he could.

“Mom told me to wake you up. Come on, Aubs. Rise and shine,” Brody said, sounding like he was trying way too hard to ignore whatever damage Aubrey had wreaked on the walls.

He made a disgruntled noise and ignored him. His head hurt. He wanted more sleep.

When Brody tried to pull his duvet off, he swung at him blindly. “Leave me ‘lone,” he muttered.

Brody backed off, but clearly not for long because he’d started trying to reason with him again.

Aubrey swore under his breath, and then reached over to his bedside table where he’d left one of his social work textbooks.

He grabbed it as Brody continued to explain their plan for the day, and without opening his eyes, he aimed for the sound of his voice and hurled it with as much force as he could.

“Fuck off!”

There was a loud thunk as it hit something that sounded a lot more like a wall than flesh, and then silence, before Aubrey heard Brody sigh and pad out of the room.

Deep down he felt a little apologetic, but mostly he was glad he could sink back into his pillow without further disruption.

He dragged himself out of bed eventually, and mumbled an apology to Brody for the textbook throwing.

He was hungry though, so he shuffled into the kitchen and started digging around for pancake ingredients. It was getting dark out but… time was a social construct. He could have pancakes at night. Who gave a shit? They were all slowly inching toward death anyway.

He grabbed a few things, and a bowl and started mixing. Pancakes were good. Safe. He could literally make them in his sleep.

He grabbed some orange juice from the fridge and poured it in a glass, leaving some room at the top, and detoured back into his room for some Smirnoff to mix in. That way he’d be able to pass his drink off for something normal if no one else in the house came too close. He downed his pills with the vodka, and then took a few more sips from the bottle for good measure, and then tucked it back under his bed.

Aubrey returned to the kitchen and sipped some of the screwdriver while he heated up a pan.

Hansel shuffled into the kitchen and whined at his feet, tail wagging. Aubrey glanced down at him, and sighed. The chunky dachshund was giving him wide, sad eyes.

“Bud. Seriously? You’re supposed to be losing weight.”

He leaned down to give him a good scratch on his little snout, and then got up again and grabbed some of the pancake batter, pouring it into the hot pan.

“The first one always sucks. I’ll give you some of it,” he promised. The batter was so slowly bubbling, and once it looked ready, he flipped it.

“Smells good in here,” a female voice said behind him, and Aubrey turned to see Olivia smiling at him.

“Um, thanks Liv,” he said, shifting his weight and taking another sip of his drink to distract himself. “You want any orange juice?”

Olivia shook her head, and crouched, laughing as Hansel waddled over to her. “Thanks, Aubs. I’m good. Just came to find the little fella. My friends won’t stop begging for pictures.”

Aubrey downed the rest of his screwdriver, and then took the first pancake out of the pan, breaking off a good chunk for Hansel who’d returned to nosing at his feet. He poured a new scoop of batter into the pan, and then glanced at Olivia who’d been recording Hansel’s enthusiastic consumption of the pancake.

“Anything for the ‘gram, eh?” He joked. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he grabbed the spatula holding the remainder of the first pancake and swung it wildly. “We’ve got a pancake here ladies and gentlemen,” he said, laughing before whipping it in Olivia’s direction.

She shrieked before dissolving into giggles as the pancake sailed past her and then slammed into the wall.

Aubrey started laughing again too. “Fuck,” he whispered, going over to examine the splatter on the wall. Olivia was laughing too, and she handed him some paper towels, but he shrugged them off, instead batting at the chunks of pancake ‘til they were on the floor too.

“Hansel will get it,” he said, shrugging, before he swore under his breath as the smell of smoke hit them. The second pancake! He’d forgotten all about it.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing the pan and taking it off the burner.

Olivia had fallen quiet behind him, and when he turned, she was looking less amused and more concerned.

“I’ve never seen you burn anything before. Are you okay, Aubrey?”

Aubrey gritted his teeth, but then forced a smile. “Sorry, Liv. We were having fun. Just… got distracted.”

She nodded, still looking worried, and scooped up Hansel now that he was done with his pancake.

“I’m just going to go call my dad, but I’m in the other room if you need any help.” She said, before finally leaving him alone to scrape burned pancake off the pan.

He’d been trying to be productive for at least a little bit in between drinking binges and panic attacks, so he was blasting white noise in his earbuds and studying for finals when his bedroom door opened and his mom came inside.

There was a soft but serious look on her face when she took a seat next to him. Aubrey felt something twist in the pit of his stomach. He shut his psych textbook, pulled out his earbuds. “Hey mom.”

“Hi baby bear,” she said, reaching out with her good arm to push his hair out of his face. “Seeing you this week has been wonderful but something’s bothering you. I know it is. Mothers always know… the same way they know about the bottles in the toe kick.” She fixed him with a look, and Aubrey glanced away, ashamed.

He stared down at his hands. His mom was the person he hated disappointing the most. She deserved better.

Her hand was under his jaw, tilting his head up. “My sweet boy. You were the sweetest little child and I know he’s still in there. Under all this fear and pain.”

Aubrey swallowed thickly, tears welling up, and had to wipe at them frantically.

“Mama,” he asked quietly. “What happened to your soulmate?”

It was not a subject they talked about often. The part of her arm she’d lost was also the part with her souldate. He didn’t know if his dad had done that on purpose or not. Aubrey couldn’t remember for the life of him what it had looked like before she’d lost it.

“My mark turned into a scar when I was eleven,” his mother responded smoothly. There wasn’t any pain or anger in her voice. She was merely stating a fact, as accepted as the colour of the sky. “It’s hard when you don’t know who they are. You can’t even find out what happened. But I was young and I adapted.”

He nodded, pulling his knees up to rest his chin on them as he watched her. He couldn’t even imagine. While he’d always resented his mark, he found it hard to think about how he would’ve reacted if suddenly it had scratched out like that.

“What made you decide to…” he paused, unsure how to phrase it. His mother, perceptive as usual, finished the sentence for him.

“Marry your father? He was a sweet talker. Said he didn’t care about his date, that he was focused on the here and now and that he’d take care of me,” she said, pursing her lips. “It must sound silly to you now, that I believed him but… he was very convincing.”

She reached out to stroke his hair again. “And I wanted a family. As much as I hate the man now, he did give me you and your brother.”

Aubrey smiled at that, but it was still weighing on him.

“And now? Do you ever think about… finding someone?”

Her eyes sparkled, but she shook her head. “Do I wish I had some great epic romance? Of course. Do I think there’s still someone out there who could give me that? Of course. But I’m happy now. I want to focus on you. On Brody and his wedding. If someone stumbles into my life then maybe I’ll give it a chance, but I’m not missing anything right now.”

Aubrey nodded, though a part of him thought it was supremely unfair that his mother didn’t get to have someone looking for her. He hated the idea as a whole, but if anyone deserved it, it was her. He certainly didn’t and somehow he had it? And she didn’t? It was another piece in his mounting pile of evidence that the universe was profoundly cruel and unfair.

“Aubrey, listen to me.” His mother’s voice broke him out of his reverie. She fixed him with a steady gaze.

“You are complete. Soulmate or not. Every single one of us is complete,” she assured him. “There is nothing missing. I’m not missing out. You’re not missing out. Your brother wasn’t somehow lacking until he met Olivia. I want you to always remember that. It’s something I should’ve remembered when I was young.”

Aubrey nodded, his eyes welling up again, and this time when he went to wipe at them, she grabbed his arm with her hand, and then held it carefully.

“But don’t build walls either. You hear me? Let people in. Me. Your brother. Whoever is out there and wants to see the real you. You don’t need them, the same way you don’t need a 5th copy of the Communist Manifesto. But they will enrich your life. I don’t want you to run away from that.”

She leaned in and kissed his forehead, and then let go of his hand, and patted his arm instead.

“I’ll let you get back to your studying.”

Aubrey had somehow managed to catch a cold, amidst all the other bullshit that was currently going on in his life. His voice being shot hadn’t stopped him from playing so much guitar that even his calluses hadn’t stopped his fingers from getting sore.

He strummed, starting a new song, and determinedly blaming the cracks in his voice on his sore throat and not the fact that there was a ball in his chest that ached.

“Fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don’t worry. You’ll never remember your head is far too blurry. Put him in the back of a squad car, restrain that man! He needs his head put through a CAT scan. Hey editor, I'm undeniable, hey doctor, I'm certifiable,” he sang.

Fuck. Fuck he was not going to make himself cry.

“I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet.” He stopped, swearing under his breath, and wiped at his tears.

“So boycott love. Detox just to retox. And I’d promise you anything for another shot at life.”

Gretel meowed and he sighed, turning to look at her. She was curled up, but her eyes were fixed on him. She blinked slowly at him and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know. I’m all over the place.”

She made a meeeeeerp noise, and rolled onto her back, paws in the air. If she could speak English, he assumed she’d be giving him a pep-talk right now.

“You’re very smart, Grets.”

She snuffled, rolling back onto her belly and meowed again, quieter this time.

“You want me to get it together? Join the club.”

Brody’s decision to change the pronouns when he sang “New Rules” was pure cowardice, and Brody made sure to tell him that despite the fact that he otherwise enjoyed his brother’s impromptu performance.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching as Brody strummed his guitar absently as he tried to decide what he wanted to play next. They were alone, and having a ‘Bros Day’, Olivia having decided to take their mom out for the day. She was a kind girl. Perfect for Brody.

He sighed at the thought, and apparently that was enough to catch his brother’s attention because he was setting the guitar down.

“Kid, are we going to talk about whatever all of this is?”

Aubrey didn’t reply for a moment, biting his lip as he thought.

“Were you scared when you got together with Olivia?” He asked eventually.

He didn’t meet Brody’s eyes when he asked, even though he could feel them boring into him. He heard, rather than saw his brother get off the chair, set his guitar down, and come sit next to him.

“Terrified,” Brody replied after a moment. “But everything clicked as soon as it happened. I couldn’t let myself be scared for long. Not with her around.”

Aubrey rubbed at his face. “Sounds awesome,” he said, only a little sarcastically. Brody laughed a little and nudged him.

Aubrey glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Um, what’s your manifestation?”

“Well, you know the voice in your head?”

Aubrey’s brow furrowed. “Your… thoughts?”

Brody nodded, before tilting his head to the side and tapping one of his temples with a finger. “My internal monologue’s in her voice. Hers is in mine. Kinda trippy, huh?”

“I guess. Kind of pointless too.”

Brody elbowed him again. “Stop being such a cynical little shit. I like it. It’s like I’m always carrying a piece of her with me.”

“She’s really sweet,” Aubrey conceded. “Like too sweet. Don’t you ever worry that she deserves better? Or… or get freaked out that this is all just some higher power’s meddling and you don’t have control over it at all?”

Brody slung an arm around Aubrey’s shoulder and gave him a shoulder pat. “Nope. There’s no use thinking like that. I love her. She loves me. I don’t think overcomplicating one of the most basic things in life is productive. What’s it achieve?”

Aubrey didn’t really have an answer.

He’d hoped this conversation would do something to sway him, one way or another, but instead he was just frustrated.

He mimed gagging just to get Brody to stop looking at him with earnest eyes, like he was trying to peer into his soul.

It didn’t work.

“So, is there something you want to tell me? About someone special?”

Aubrey froze.

“Shut up, Brody.”

“Aubs…”

“Shut up,” he said, standing up and stumbling back from his brother, fists clenched. “There’s nothing and no one. I was just asking —”

Brody came closer, not dissuaded at all by his outburst.

“You’re a bad liar, squirt, seriously, talk to me.”

Something was building up behind Aubrey’s vision, making his heart beat faster and the feeble control he had over his emotions start to snap.

“I just want to help,” Brody continued.

Be quiet. Be quiet. Be quiet.

“I know the kiss is scary and that dad fucked us both up but you need to —”

The last thread of control over Aubrey’s temper snapped and he was shoving Brody against the wall, his fist slamming into the plaster next to his brother’s head.

“I don’t need to do anything! Fucking stop. Shut up about it,” he hissed.

Brody looked stunned for a moment, before his expression shifted into something more neutral, careful.

“Take a deep breath, Aubs. And step back. You’re better than this. You’re not dad. I know you’re not.”

He didn’t move, breathing in hard through his nose as his pulse pounded in his ears. He drew his hand back and punched the wall again, and then for a third time, the pain blossoming through his first slowly breaking through his haze.

“I hate you, why do you always have to push?” he said, his voice cracking as he finally drew back and then kicked the chair over. His shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his hair and fought the urge to hit some more. He beelined for the kitchen, not bothering to see if Brody was following him or not, and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of red wine that Olivia had bought, popping off the cork and then unceremoniously chugging some of it.

He wiped at his eyes, and then leaned against the fridge, his pulse still racing, the cocktail of fury and fear making him volatile.

“I’m sorry.” Brody’s voice. He was quiet for another moment. “I just want you to be happy.”

Aubrey took another swig of the wine, not meeting his brother’s eyes as all the fight suddenly left him. In its place was a mix of shame and regret.

Something was seriously broken in him. His family deserved better. So did his friends. And Sebastian, especially.

“I’m sorry too,” he said hoarsely. “I swear I’ve been taking my meds. Everything’s just bad right now.”

Brody drew closer, and reached out to take the bottle from him. He relinquished it without a fight, and then slid down onto his knees, leaning against the fridge. Aubrey watched his brother pour the contents down the sink and didn’t try to stop him.

“Get up. We don’t need to talk about this anymore but we��re having an adventure outside where you can kick and hit all the shit you want without consequence,” Brody said, fixing him with a look that Aubrey knew meant he wasn’t going to budge on this.

He held a hand out and Brody pulled him up. He still felt deeply rattled. He was sure Brody did too. “Fine. But stop stealing my phone to go on my Instagram. And posting weird creepshots of me.”

Brody grinned and patted his shoulder. “No promises.”

Aubrey’s last night in Minnesota was meant to be low-key, but somehow it had turned into Brody and Olivia trying desperately to perfect the ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ dance, though they spent half their practice giggling and kissing.

It was disgusting. But kind of adorable.

But his mom found it precious and wouldn’t stop recording their every attempt, so Aubrey toned down his roasting to more of a simmer.

It almost felt normal. Almost.

His fight or flight response had triggered his impromptu visit to Minnesota, but now that it was almost over, he had to admit it had done him some good. He was certainly feeling marginally more stable than he’d been at the beginning of the week. Jury was out on whether that calm would last on the plane back to New York.

He glanced around the living room, scooping Gretel up and hugging her to his chest. He was going to miss home. He didn’t know when he’d be back, considering he’d blown through his savings, and even if he wanted to take Santana up on her offer, he’d been horrendously rude to her and it probably didn’t stand anymore.

So instead he committed the smiles on Brody and Olivia and his mom’s faces to memory. If he took on some extra shifts, he could probably come see them again for Thanksgiving but a summer visit was definitely out of the cards now.

Waking up at 5 a.m. just so he could catch his stupid flight to New York was seriously not it. But at least this time he hadn’t thrown anything at his brother when he’d forced him awake. It was all about the small victories.

He hugged his mom for about five minutes straight, and he was crying a little when he finally pulled back.

She kissed each of his cheeks, and then his forehead. “My baby bear. Things will look up. I promise.”

“I’m sorry for…” he trailed off. For what? The fighting with Brody? For bringing violence back into her home? The yelling and holes in the wall? “For everything.”

She reached up and wiped at his tears, and smiled at him. “Work on feeling better, and then consider yourself forgiven.”

He nodded. That was fair. And frankly more than he deserved. His mom was an endless fountain of patience.

“I love you. I’ll call you when my flight lands. Happy mother’s day.”

Brody gave him much of the same advice on the way to the airport, before reeling him in for a hug once they were in the terminal.

“Sort your shit out and quit destroying your liver,” he said, fixing him with a look once he’d pulled back.

Aubrey shot him a half-smile. “I think if my liver survived high school, it’ll survive this.”

Brody sighed, but Aubrey was very skilled in the art of deciphering his brother’s sighs by now. This one wasn’t angry, just kind of resigned. He’d take disappointed over pissed any day.

“I know it’s hard. You know I do. But just… stop self-sabotaging and let yourself have good things. Don’t let dad’s shit ruin your life more than he already has.”

Aubrey gave his brother a two-fingered salute as he walked backwards from him, pulling his carry-on in front of him. “Aye, aye captain.”

It was good advice. Brody was good at knowing the right things to say but Aubrey was never very good at listening to him.

His first stop once he got back to New York was his apartment. He needed to drop off his suitcase and his guitar.

He’d gotten tipsy on the plane, and then spent his commute back to his apartment staring at the mountain of texts on his phone. He’d read them over and over all week, and every time he did, his chest felt tight.

It was like squeezing lemon juice onto a paper cut. Pointless and painful. He couldn’t stand it. He seriously needed more to drink, nevermind the fact that it wasn’t even noon yet.

He finally reached his apartment, and let himself in. He beelined for his room, dropping his bag and guitar off, before he padded out to the kitchen to see what was in the fridge.

Chet usually had something — Bingo! — he spotted a nearly full bottle of Fireball tucked away behind some takeout containers, and pulled it out, opening it and taking a few gulps, before shutting the fridge and turning around.

Oh.

“Hi Kyle,” he said, a bit sheepishly, as his wide-eyed roommate took a step back towards his bedroom.

He rubbed at his forehead, and then took another gulp from the bottle before plopping down on the couch.

“I’m sorry about last week,” he said, chewing on his lip for a moment. “You didn’t deserve it. Even if your room does smell like you’re hiding dead bodies in there.”

Kyle stared at him for a moment, before he broke out into a grin, and came over to slap him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

“Right on, dude. Don’t even worry about it. What’s a couple smacks between friends?”

If Aubrey’d been sober, he probably would’ve disputed that statement a little further. It was probably not healthy or normal for friends to regularly hit each other. He didn’t even think of Kyle as a friend.

But drunk Aubrey was just going to take it as a win, because he was sorely needing one of those this week.

“Thanks, man.” He waved the bottle in Kyle’s direction. “You’re not gonna tell Chet about this, right?”

Kyle shook his head. “Nah, brah. Your secret’s safe with me.”

His roommate finally disappeared back into the biohazard he called a room and Aubrey took another sip of his drink, and pulled out his phone, staring at it for a minute or two before getting up and putting the Fireball away.

It was probably time for him to go see Sebastian.

#para #// FUCK IT HERE IT IS #aubrey did NOT go see his dad #mostly bc i was sick of writing and that would've required a LOT more of it #and i might as well save some ammo in my back pocket for later #maybe when saubrey start being happy or something idk #tumblr ate all my formatting on this and i was too lazy to put it back so rip 2 that

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