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#do any of you actually watch this show?!?!? am i just yelling into the void when i post these??? hahaha
actual-changeling · 7 months
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Hi, you can call me Alex or whatever variation of my username you'd like. <3
I'm in my early twenties, use mainly they/them pronouns, and there is a lot wrong with my brain (both affectionately and in a decidedly not fun way). I have memory issues, so I can and will forget things, including replying to messages. You are ALWAYS invited to send me a reminder—please, please do, I will not be offended, pinky promise.
This blog is 90% fandom, 5% personal shit and 5% misc posts that I like. My inbox and DMs are open, so feel free to message me and interact however you like! If there's something you want me to see, I don't mind getting tagged in posts either.
Please don't be an asshole, and you can find my opinions/rules about discourse on my blog right here. I'm incredibly bad at judging my own tone, so if I come across as overly intense or upset, chances are I am actually not—I'm just passionate about the things I enjoy.
My current active special interests are Doctor Who and Good Omens, but I dabble in a lot of other fandoms, too. Among those are Marvel/Iron Man, Lucifer, TLOU, The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale, Prospect (2018), and many more.
I will be tagging spoilers for any newly released shows and episodes. If there is something you would like me to tag spoilers for, just shoot me an ask or dm!
Currently following and tagging for:
Doctor Who: alex watches doctor who, dw spoilers
PJO The Series: pjo spoilers
The Magnus Protocols: alex listens to tmagp, tmagp spoilers
I write fanfiction both here on tumblr and on ao3 under actualchangeling. Requests or ideas are fine, though I cannot make any promises.
Wanna chat with other people about good omens? I have a discord you can join, mostly angelfish focused but we talk about all our beloved idiots.
My tag system for original posts applies to all fandoms I am currently actively engaging with and follows the same patterns. I tag spoilers when I remember to for about a week, so consider this blog to be very much NOT spoiler free.
alex talks x -> meta, analysis, interpretation, or opinion posts
alex writes x -> either self-promotion or tumblr specific ficlets, without any fandom addition it's original writing of some kind
Any personal posts that are not fandom related are tagged as following; feel free to block them if you're just here for the fandom madness!! I really do not mind.
alex yells at the void -> misc personal stuff
alex gets personal -> potentially triggering discussions of my trauma or mental health, vent posts
Last but not least, the tag for my queue is I’ll follow queue anywhere you go. It's a TLOU reference for those who are curious.
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zeroistyping · 2 years
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my goddess. - dreamxd x fem!reader
word count: 1.9k words
cw: possessive!dreamxd, anal play, overall very rough, oral sex (receiving), somewhat praise? (xd calls you pet names), kinda dub-con at first but it somehow turns fully consensual, unprotected sex
masterlist :)
please give me feedback for this 🧎🏼‍♀️
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He felt powerful. Watching all the people from above, messing with reality and dimensions and people in general. But his eyes were only on you.
You, the girlfriend of the most feared and powerful individual Dream, the one he despises. He tried everything, looking like him, talking like him, laughing like him. But still, your eyes were on Dream only. It was almost as if you're obsessed with him.
XD wanted you to stop, to turn around and to look at him. He wants to see the same admiration in your eyes just for himself. The god was selfish, yes. But he had everything he wanted but you. He had riches, power, control and more. In any world he travels he could get anyone he wants. But he wants you.
And you don't want him.
Everything around you turned black, your body went numb and the last thing you could do was to gasp.
When you were able to open your eyes again, you could find yourself in a cloud, surrounded by other clouds in a white space somewhere. Around you was nothing but void. Were you dead?
"You're awake!", an excited voice almost yelled. It sounded far away but so close at the same time and it hurt your ears, the deep scratching coming from each corner of your surroundings was confusing and loud, causing you to place your hands above your ears while closing your eyes shut.
Suddenly, the voice went softer. "Sorry, sunshine. Didn't mean to cause any harm.. are you feeling alright?"
The voice was familiar but you couldn't put your finger on it. It felt warm but cold at the same time.
XD decided it'd be best to impersonate Dream again, but not to an extent where you'd think it's actually him. So he used a bit of his voice, quite similar looks and changed your surroundings into your house. Still, if anyone would show up to your house they wouldn't see you there.
You decided to study the creature in front of you. Usually when people would talk about the god DreamXD, they'd describe him as at least 10 feet tall, with a light gray mast with an XD on. They'd say he wears a dark green cloak, covering his head almost entirely with golden highlights at the end. A chain with an emerald, shaped in XD around his neck and a powerful weapon of any kind in his hand. They'd explain that he'd have giant wings that he doesn't even have to use.
But the creature, no, the person in front of you looked different. He was tall, yes. You'd guess around 7 feet at least, towering over you, with a white cloak that covers just everything that needs to be covered. His tanned collarbone was on display, and his black fingernails nervously scratched it from time to time. No wings on his back, no mask covering his face but the chain was there, shining in a beautiful, bright green.
His eyes were almost normal, but not really. While one side has an X as its pupil, the other has a D.
"Why.. Why am I here..? Or why are you here..?" Your words came out like a whisper, too terrified to anger the literal god in front of you.
"Because you're my queen. My goddess."
Each word that came out of his mouth was like posing, it made you drown in the mattress you sat on. His words alone made you feel more powerful than you've ever felt before.
"Your goddess..?"
"Of course." XD answered without hesitation as he kneeled down in front of you. But even though he was on his knees, his face was at the same height as yours. "I've been watching you for quite some time now, you're the only one worth my time. I could watch you for decades and not get tired of it. But you waste all your time on that.. stupid Dream.. why would a goddess like you waste your time on a manipulative asshole like him.."
His eyes turned red the second he mentioned your boyfriend but you already forgot about him. The strong presence of the god made you forget everything.
"Wont waste my time on him anymore, I promise. Let me be your goddess.."
While XD called the human version of himself, Dream, a manipulative asshole, he was one himself. He used magic, dark magic, to make you feel aroused. To make you feel desperate to the point it's getting uncomfortable to not do anything sexual with him. Admittedly he did not use a spell on you to forget about your so-called lover, but it made him feel good that he had to do almost nothing to make you drench in your own wetness at the thought of him.
"Wanna be my goddess, yeah..? I can make you my goddess.."
He did not waste any time, whispering something underneath his breath to make both yours and his clothes disappear into nothing before gripping your thighs and pressing them apart. Before diving into your clenching wetness, he looked up to you. He waited until you nodded, giving him a signal of consent.
When you did, XD was devouring you. Eating you out like a starving man. His tongue was long, way longer than average. Instead of circling your sensitive clit with it, it was thrusting inside you as deep as it could, reaching all of the right spots and more. The god groaned as he tasted your juices, it was officially the best thing that ever came across his taste buds.
Your hands were buried in his hair, pulling it hard while moaning louder than ever before. White pleasure rushed through your veins and all you had in your mind were the letters X and D in the same cricked form his eyes were. If his tongue could do things like that to you, what could his dick do?
You didn't need to ask if you're allowed to cum, he made it clear that you should let it all out by the day he was slurping up everything you gave him. His claw-like fingernails cut deep in your thighs, drawing blood but both of you couldn't care less.
In that moment it was just the god and his goddess.
A high pitched moan left your lips as you came, hard. Juices squirting everywhere but especially right into his mouth. He couldn't get enough of you and you have an addictive taste and scent.
He was about to get you cleaned up, thinking you had enough for just the first night but he was proved wrong when you pulled him closer by his jaw, pressing your lips roughly against his while your other hand placed itself on his toned body.
"Need you so bad, XD.. my god.."
Who was he to deny such a generous offer?
His length was longer than average and quite big in girth. 11 inches were way too big for a human to take, especially with that little preparation. But you were willing to at least try. "Give me all you got, XD.. I can take it, I promise.. just need to feel all of you.. don't care if you hurt me.."
Your words came out in a mess, sweat formed on your forehead the second he just aligned himself with your entrance and your violently shaking thighs squeezed around his waist to pull him somewhat closer.
"say red if you want me to stop, my goddess. I will stop immediately.", he whispered into your ear before he gave you another kiss. The kiss was used to distract you from the immense pain shooting through your entire body the second he thrusted just a third of his length into you.
Tears swelled on the edge of your waterline but you were able to pull yourself together, to drunk on the pleasure you felt and the promise of pleasure you're about to feel when the god in front of you destroys you completely.
XD kissed your cheeks as he slowly inserted more and more of his length into you, trying his best not to hurt you. But something, some sick voice in his head, told him to wreck you for making him suffer for so long. For making him wait for you.
So he did that, the last third of his dick was thrusted into you quickly, not caring anymore. The scream escaping your throat was just a sign for him to make you shut up so he used his hand on your throat, choking you with just enough pressure to go silent.
His pace was quick, not giving you any time to adjust to the gods' length inside of you. The hand he didn't use found itself on your ass, lubricated with his spit.
When he destroys you, he thinks, he has to do it the right way.
Without a warning, his thumb circled your rim, making your eyes go wide open. Even though you had an amazing sex life with Dream, he never once dared to go as far as sticking something in your behind. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't the tiniest bit excited.
Moans after moans left your lips, sounding like music to the gods ears. It motivated him. Something inside of him forced XD to go further, so he inserted his lengthy thumb into your bum, moving it just the tiniest bit all while the pace of his thrusts never faltered.
Your shaky legs felt numb, blood trickled down your thighs from before when he cut them open with his fingernails, mixing with your juices and the spit that dribbled down XD's mouth. He couldn't contain it, his mouth couldn't shut close.
"XD.. god.. please.." At this point you forgot what you were begging for.
XD felt himself getting close after fucking you for anhour. For him it was embarrassing. Each time he has intercourse with another individual it'd last for hours with no break but with you it was somehow different and he couldn't explain it himself. It felt right.
"Gonna cum inside, yeah? You'd like that?"
Instead of his just thumb, two fingers were now buried in your behind. You couldn't respond, too fucked out to form any comprehensive words or think of an respond so you just nodded. In that hour he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, and it was tiring but satisfying at the same time. You couldn't get enough.
"Fuck..", he whispered before biting your neck, hard and shooting his seeds deep inside of your drenched cunt. A lost scream-like moan was heard from you before you drifted off, somewhere between sleep and unconscious. But it was alright with you.
The god stayed in that position for a while before slowly pulling himself out of you. He never wanted to forget the sight in front of him. The way your body shined in the light of the room, covered in sweat, blood and spit.
And on your neck, in the same position he just left one of the biggest marks in history, formed a small "XD" in black ink.
He officially claimed you as his goddess.
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lowkey-blues · 1 year
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Ghostly shit no one asked for
hey so I’m on a paranormal kick at the moment, and despite having a whopping 3 followers I’m going to infodump abt it as if my life depends on it. 
disclaimer: I am not a professional “ghost hunter” nor do I have my own show. I’m literally just fascinated by the paranormal and would like to express my ideas and methods to the matter.
Ghost adventures is absolute bogus.  From the very first episode I saw, even before I researched anything about the show, I could tell most of it was milked or overreactions. If you know of Zak Baggy-pants and his crew, you’re probably aware of how they seem to have panic attacks caused by ghostly encounters every episode; and despite the fact it seems very obvious, people think their reactions are real. You know, the reactions where Zak screams like he shits himself, the camera has an aneurism, someone yells “WHAT?! WHAT?!”, and three hundred horror sound effects are played over the raw audio at once like a Bollywood movie to jump scare you. en post, there’s also extreme camera zooms and “enhanced audios” of things that are probably gnats flying across the screen or someone in the production team sneezing into their sleeve. To absolutely no one’s surprise, the team has even admitted their reactions are “milked” to have the show appear scarier; and while nothing is  wrong with this for an entertainment purpose, to label it as ‘educational’ is irresponsible, and to watch it as a research source is also.  Ghosts do not care about you or your stupid ghost gear.  In all honesty, “ghosts”, spirits, the departed, whatever you want to call them, probably give absolutely 0 (zero) shits about some teenagers running around with cameras and a Ouija board.    From a “spiritual”  standpoint, ghosts/spirits are literally just Dudes ™ . Unless they were reclusive or aggressive when they were alive, it’s highly unlikely that they’d attempt to attack someone or whisper “get out” at them. From my experience, spirits are just the departed passing through; most of which mean no harm. There are more maleficent spirits, but unless you intend on meeting one, they rarely “come around”, and are usually attached to an item, place, person, etc. Often times, when I had attempted to reach out to spirits, they seemed confused as to why I even cared about who they were, essentially saying “You kids and your weird ghost stories. Go do something productive.” So for the Ghost Adventures crew to somehow manage to be “attacked” by spirits nearly every episode, they would have to be intentionally provoking said angry spirits, which is an absolute ‘no’ in any spiritual persons book; or they’re just faking it for the effect, which is the most likely option. It’s harmful to those who actually want the truth. For people like me who are just genuinely curious if there’s undead living among us, there’s plenty of content out there to fill that little void; though barely any of said content should be used for research purposes.  A great way of finding out if a ‘Paranormal Investigation’ show is ‘real’ or ‘fake’ is to check off certain criteria. The following criteria would probably give a P.I. show points on my “Is it real’o’meter”.     -Are they respectful of the environment they’re investigating?     - Is their history/information well researched/can it be backed up by sources other than word of mouth?    - Do they use the scientific method when attempting to use technology to make contact with ghosts? (i.e. multiple trials with the same instrument, checking the base levels of Electric-Magnetic Fields around them, etc.)    - Do they use more than just Spirit Boxes, SLS cameras and EMF readers? (Do they use touch flashlights, pendulums, compasses, etc?)    - Do they supply unedited/barely edited video/audio evidence of their findings?    - Is there an archive where you are able to find the information they say they have and/or discovered?     - Do they show clips/parts of the investigation where they failed to get any responses? If any of the below criteria are checked, the show is probably just for entertainment purposes, and lose points on my ‘Is It Real’o’meter’:
-Very heavily edited (lots of sound affects/background music used) - Background information is difficult to find, especially if the only information is from the show/ OR the only information you CAN find is that the area is supposedly ‘famous for being haunted’  -Little to no respect is given to the area the supposed spirits inhabit - Extreme reactions to little things like doors creaking, wind howling, etc. -Very shaky/jerky camera movements used to disorient the viewer (quickly panning AWAY from the subject of focus, for example) - Very little history/background information is given; only information that would seem to add to a ‘scare factor’ is used -They don’t use outside evidence/other peoples stories unless they’re really extreme
If it looks like a game of Phasmaphobia... it’s probably not real.
While I have nothing against paranormal investigation shows used for entertainment, I absolutely do have an issue with said shows labeling themselves as authentic. If a show constantly says “this is real” about 5 times an episode, chances are it probably wasn’t. Sorry to be a buzzkill. Something I thoroughly enjoy about Ghost Files/Buzzfeed Unsolved/the ghoul boys is they show you every step of what they do. They also be sure to make the viewer aware that everything is speculation; nothing is confirmed to be ‘real’ or not, while Ghost Adventures tries so desperately to tell the viewer “THIS IS REAL! WE GOT ATTACKED BY SATAN HIMSELF (NOT CLICKBAIT)” All in all, I would just like to spread the information that if you want to get into Paranormal Investigation, don’t use shows like Ghost Adventures that are made solely for entertainment purposes as a basis for your beliefs; because 9 times out of 10, they’re probably faked.  REAL tips on how to talk to the ghostie bois, if you’re interested:
-Don’t be afraid to whip out the pendulums and scribing, if you’re into that stuff. While not many people tend to be spiritual in that sense, researching about how to use pendulums in paranormal investigations can be helpful, especially if you can’t afford fancy gadgets. Scribing can also be an interesting way to reach out to spirits.  -Please do not attempt to summon demons to say howdy. Though there’s speculations on if demons are even real, I recommend not trying to contact one anyway. If you really want to communicate with ghosts, go to an old thrift store or antique shop, and try to find really old photos of people, and try to reach out to the deceased person in the photo instead.  -Don’t do it alone.  When the human mind is already in a fearful state, it can cause us to become paranoid or see things that aren’t really there. This is natural; it’s what keeps prey animals light and on their feet in nature. So have a trustworthy buddy with you; you can keep each other grounded, compare experiences and come to conclusions together. Plus, you can do a lot more investigating is someone else is there with you! -Please don’t spend a million bucks on amazon ghost finding equipment. Unless you plan to do this all the time, don’t spend too much money on spirit boxes and EMF readers; but if you legit plan on doing this, either for content, for money, etc, don’t buy the stuff from amazon. Its easy to get scammed with junk that doesn’t actually work; so be careful about what you buy! (also side note, I’m not sure if I trust SLS cameras.. so either do a lot of research about how they work before you buy it, or wait until you know you definitely want to invest in Paranormal Investigation as a hobby.) If you’re interested in hearing about my own personal “paranormal” experiences, I’d be happy to share them! ^^ Again this is mainly opinion and infodumping. I love Ryan and Shane and have been watching Ghost Files and its throwing me into a paranormal kick lol
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washingtonlowercases · 4 months
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i have a lot of Thoughts about the chicago situation and im going to put them under the cut cause i know no one cares but i have no one to talk to so they're going here anyway
tw: sexual assault, r*pe, hazing ?
okay so like... what happened?? i watched that press conference (yay being unemployed, we love it here and we are NOT going insane) and i am now convinced that perry probably didnt have sex with bedards mom but actually did something really, really, very much so worse.
im not convinced nothing happened between perry and any bedard though. its such a specific rumor. and the gm and all these reporters being like iTS DISGUSTING TO EVEN SUGGEST- okay so where did it come from then?? can you show me the tweet from rangersfan420 who hates the hawks and started a rumor for fun?? can you find the source to PROVE its just a stupid internet lie?? i know its hard but if im chicago, im putting someone on it. if im a reporter (i know its a hard job, its a lot of work, etc but i have very little sympathy for most hockey reporters specifically because of, well- name any incident) im SCOURING the web for the source of that rumor to either ask how they know, or embed the link in my pay-wall blocked article for clicks!! you KNOW it would work, at least a few times. theyve had two days, has anyone even attempted this? (someone who's job it is, who's getting paid literally to either create news or to kill the rumor more effectively than whatever the hell the hawks are trying right now)
i might believe something sexual assult-y happened between perry and a player's family or player even except we KNOW for a FACT that the nhl and the hawks specifically do not care about that. they can "we're committed to change" all they want (clearly that's not working) but what motive would they have for kicking perry off the team? when has the NHL, or NHL fans (the loud, obnoxious majority, anyway) cared when a player has assaulted anyone?? we have seen sex crime after sex crime against women (and men!) committed by these players who are STILL PLAYING. no consequences enforced by their team, by the league, or by the media or fans (generally. there are good fans and there are some media outlets that care). so really, the hawks have no reason to kick perry off the team, or address the media, or make this into A Thing at all if that were the case. I know its hard to quash a rumor once it starts, but i honestly think if they had just been like "perry did *insert sex crime here* and thats bad, sooweee" people would be like BUT HES A GREAT PLAYER and people would be liek THAT SUCKS KICK HIM OFF THE TEAM and then in 30 hours there would be something new to yell about. (because being the moral police for this FUCKING LEAGUE is exhausting. where my red wings girlies who are dead inside at?? let me hear you scream into the void!)
so let's take a sexual encounter/assault off the table. what the hell was it?? probably not a racist thing. the chicago hockey team for sure doesn't care about that (See: their logo). its probably not a straight up and down illegal thing because the cops aren't involved as far as we know. (not that that really matters to this league either. remember the val nichushkin thing?? or the lucic thing?? {im assuming he'll be playing again soon} or like a million other things?? god this league is exhausting)
i saw someone say a hazing thing and that i might believe, esp bc of how their gm looked on the brink of tears. but then... say that?? or then why say no one else in the locker room knows about it?? are we keeping them in the dark or are we covering their asses legally??
this league is so fucked up, that there's honestly not much i can imagine that a hockey player could do that would warrant THIS from his team and the NHL.
(unless of course he's claimed off waivers or signed in like three months, then it's probably your garden variety assault/hazing/drunk/racist incident)
UGH i hate it here sometimes
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theonlybatopus · 1 year
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The problem with remakes
Am I making this to yell into the void? Yes.
Is there a point to this? Not really lol
So the last few years after the pancake of 2020 remakes have been forced down our throat at a greater speed. I won’t even touch disney remakes with a 10ft pole because. Well. Iykyk.
But watching Velma helped me figure out why I hate them. Not because it changes the source material. Shaggy hating on weed? That can actually be funny. Hyping up Freds airheadness? Also fun! Amping up traits for a parody can be super fun and funny to watch but this is not that. See, if you can change the names and title of the show and no one would know the difference you’ve made completely different media. This isn’t even an adaption, it’s is straight up a different show. And the comedy is. Really bad. Not even funny bad just why do I have the ability to hear and read subtitles on this fine day bad.
The same problem happened with the winx show. It didn’t need to be changed so much that it can be swapped out for literally any “edgy” teen show. You can have colors, you can deal with “heavy” topics (coughwinxalreadydidcough) that aren’t relationship drama. Velma falls into this as well. Sex =/= good show.
Meta humor is great only when done correctly. And even then, don’t beat it with a dead horse. Don’t make it your sole comedy, it will fall flat and become preachy. Both of these shows suck because they miss what a remake or even parody actually is. Slapping names on a completely different character does not a show make.
Just go watch mystery incorporated, it’s better and the animation holds. Hell go watch the live actions who understood the assignment.
For winx club just stick to the cartoon. Yes it’s old news but how this show keeps getting seasons baffles me. Then again riverdale ran for how long? lol
Basically if a character is no longer recognizable you’re doing it wrong.
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kattestrophe · 1 year
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Alright, I've finished Season 3 of The Musketeers
It was... I have some questions. I may just be dumb. I may have missed things while getting a drink. I don't know. Maybe someone will be able to help. Anyway, I'll rant my thoughts into the void for a moment.
How exactly did they go on after the end of S2? Their last scene is literally "Yeah, we're going to go find Aramis and get the gang back together after five minutes apart!" and then they... Don't, apparently? They are surprised to see him at the monastery in S3E1, so they obviously did not know he was there. Did they catch up to him before he got there? Did they not find him? Did he actually turn them down when they asked him to come back or did they just not have that talk?! I feel like that should be mentioned? Feels relevant? Was it mentioned!?
Why is Grimaud so mad at Athos specifically? Why is it stated in the behind the scenes clips that Grimaud specifically gives Athos the heeby jeebies more than any other villain so far? Where did he get his money? How did he get his connections? Do I need to read the book to understand why the show named their villain who has never met Athos before after Athos' lackey??
The other villains didn't quite catch me either this season, idk what it was, they just didn't really do it for me.
Why would you basically put Athos in the Milady Memorial Suit, say as much in the behind the scenes, and then pretty much not use her at all in S3? "The Milady Story", "The writers felt like there was something left to tell", then why didn't they do it?!
Why does the Dauphin not talk?! Like?? He's supposed to be 6?? Give him another line or two and pay the child accordingly, it's kinda creepy how he barely makes any sound at all. Also: Why does he just walk along with anyone who grabs his arm, surely even a child would notice that the guy who just punched the lady he was supposed to stay with in the face is not a nice man?!
Well, maybe he gets his brains from his dad who, for some reason, thought spilling everything about his affair with Anne to Louis was a swell idea. "I know how a dying man acts", oh fuck off, for all you know you may have just turned his terrible inescapable marriage even worse for Anne. 17th century Queens have been exiled away from their kids for this type of shit, Aramis!
Speaking of which: What exactly did Louis do to keep Aramis away from Anne and his son after his death? Like? He says that, but?? Nothing happens?? At all?? No consequences?? He called her a spanish harlot in the episode before his death, it doesn't sound like he feels all that generous towards her??
That was another thing, the whole caricature-print-story started and ended so fast I barely caught up. That really only existed to have Athos yell "to hell with the law", right?
Was Sylvie expecting the people to just get how to read themselves from the flyers they were handing out? Like, they were explicitly handing them out, not using them for lessons.
Oh boy, Feron sure changed his mind about the whole treason thing fast. "I'll conspire against the crown!" "You're family, Philippe, I'm gifting you a grave 🥺" "Can't wait to fill that! Will die for you right away!"
Why do Aramis and d'Artagnan keep switching pauldrons in multiple episodes, I am BEGGING you to label your costumes, BBC!
And why do they only get their new uniforms in Episode 3
And why is Marcheaux's jacket glittery
And what's that added leather thing with the cross that Aramis wears like... Twice? Is it their fancy day uniform? Why does he wear it without anything else when he accompanies Louis? Why does he wear it to the bar battle?
the costumes were kind of hit or miss for me this season, some I loved, some were Marcheaux's jacket or Aramis's final outfit. Or the Dauphin's wigs.
it's also very funny to watch everyone in the behind the scenes say "Oh, the Red Guard is so much more elite now, scary Red Guard" when d'Artagnan throws his weapon away to kill Marcheaux and they're still mostly absolute dunces who get beaten to pulp every other episode and have their bare asses handed to them by Constance
Speaking of Constance: Handing the kid off to her sounds fine at first, but like... Wouldn't everyone know her around these parts? And know she doesn't have a child? If there are two women the people of the area would know it's Madame d'Artagnan of the Musketeers and Sylvie of The Group of Refugees We Hate Sometimes, people would notice them dragging an unknown child around.
Speaking of Constance and kids, that was made to seem important for her and d'Artagnan and then never mentioned again. "Oh, we may never have kids..." "Oh, the kids Constance and I will have someday..." talk to each other!?!?
Aramis in the middle of S2: "Fighting is what I am meant to be doing!" Aramis at the end of S2: "Everything is going to shit, if I get out of this I'll radically turn my life around!"- okay, I get that. - Aramis at the beginning of S3: "The turning around part showed me that I am truly meant to be a musketeer!" - nice, he has grown in his understanding of himself, he knows his place in the world - Aramis at the end of S3: "So, about that-!" - oh come ON!
I didn't really dig the ending overall. We got a taste of Anne's and Aramis's combined diplomatic power in episode 8 and I dare say France is doomed.
Like, I'm glad they're together, making out in the middle of the park as if their relationship isn't still scandalous, raising their son, but A. that blue costume looked really weird on Aramis (is it just me? was something off about the cut?) and B. there must have been a better way. Honestly, the other people on the council who have been navigating politics for ages must be banging their heads on the table in agony whenever the current regent drags in yet another rando who's there for different reasons entirely!
Aramis will get bored and start shooting birds in the palace garden in three days time, I'm calling it
Continuing on about the ending, did Porthos and Elodie truly make such a connection in the cumulative week of knowing each other that they have to get married? Maybe if they had brought her back an episode earlier, but pulling her from a hat right before the end of the series felt a bit cheap...
Where are Athos and Sylvie going?? And why?? Don't the two of you have shit to do in Paris, help the poor, keep your community going?? Do they have a specific destination or are they just hoping to arrive somewhere nice enough with a midwife and a connection to food and water before Sylvie is so pregnant she can't ride anymore?!
Also, did Athos brush and tie up his hair for his final scene? That can't be him, it's his evil clone!
Constance and d'Artagnan are still cute and together, yay for that! Would have loved more conversations
Goodbye Scene in the garrison: Why no last "All for one, one for all"? Why must the last one for all be a note in a hat!?!? You're telling me this group of besties just kind of awkwardly walk away from each other!? Let Porthos and Aramis hug again!
I do love Milady's new paying position, good for my favourite murderous fashion icon. If only she had had like... a lot more proper scenes and interactions with the plot.
I heard that the actress couldn't film due to her being on maternity leave, but... come on, couldn't that have been handled better?
I really liked the show overall, but the third season felt a bit lackluster. Welp. I might still make that crack vid :'D
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trueishcolours · 2 years
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No no no I really want to hear your full thoughts on consent! But I'll wait for the post :D As for all the rest. Yeah. Exactly. All of it. The episode 6 apologies make me want to trust the show to handle this new mess well too, but at the same time my trust issues are also immune to waterfall kisses, so. I'll wait and see. And like, not to be extremely shallow, but even if they mess everything up after this point, at least we got to see some really attractive dudes :|
Yay! Now thanks to you I get to post this in response to an ask as though I were a popular blog whose opinion people were clamouring to read, instead of just yelling into the void like I normally do!
Before I launch into why the Bathroom Handjob Scene was super-duper not consensual, I want to be clear that I am not criticising anybody who enjoyed the scene, or criticising the showrunners for writing the scene the way they did. I did not start watching the Mafia Show about Mafia Men doing Mafia Things because I wanted to see characters who were models of good behaviour. In fact I thought the scene was excellently done and part of the point of this post is to praise that! But I do think we all ought to be clear about what we are watching, and what we are not watching is ethical sex.
So, in the discussion around sexual ethics, people have come up with a lot of features of what true consent should look like. Off the top of my head, consent should be enthusiastic, specific, ongoing, fully informed and freely given. I think some fans of the show have noticed the enthusiasm of Porsche’s consent – he clearly likes having sex with Kinn, a lot! – and are skipping over the ‘freely given’ bit.
What does ‘freely given’ mean? Put simply, if you are under any pressure or coercion to consent – if something bad might happen to you if you don’t give your consent – then your consent is not valid. And Kinn and Porsche’s relationship has been coercive from the get-go when Kinn kidnapped Porsche, and has not got less coercive since. Again, this is a feature of the show, not a bug! The imbalanced power dynamic of the mafia-boss-and-bodyguard relationship is what makes it tasty, and the question of whether Kinn and Porsche will eventually be able to overcome this power imbalance is the driving force of the show! But for now, the relationship is coercive, and consent can’t exist in a coercive space.
I am going to belabour this point just a little more, because the claim that somebody can say they want sex, and enjoy the sex, and yet not have given valid consent, sounds counterintuitive and honestly a little patronising. ‘They said yes but they didn’t really mean it and we can’t believe them?’ Sounds like some anti-kink nonsense! But the thing is, if you’ve created a situation where a person might reasonably be afraid to say no to you, and then they say yes to you, you can’t actually know whether they really mean it, or whether they’re lying to protect themselves. If you proceed in the face of this uncertainty, you are behaving unethically. And if you’re the person being coerced, you may not actually be aware of how much pressure you were under until much later, because your brain will do what it thinks it needs to do to help you survive the situation, including suppressing feelings of fear and going along with whatever it thinks is the safest course of action. I think we can see Porsche doing this in ep. 7 with regard to all the torture and killing. In ep. 3 he was very upset at being present during torture and eventually being the one to shoot the victim; in ep. 7 he didn’t turn a hair. But I don’t think this means he has become truly okay with it. I think his brain has realised that there’s no getting out of participating in torture and killing if he wants to stay safe, and so is supressing all his qualms about it. For now.
Jesus Christ, that was a long preamble about the nature of consent. On to the Bathroom Handjob Scene!
So, Vegas is just getting his own sexual assault plan started when Kinn bursts in and kicks him out. Rather than assuming, ‘my evil cousin was harming my crush,’ Kinn jumps straight to ‘my crush was cheating on me with my evil cousin.
Kinn is holding a gun. Even if Porsche did not have Vegas’ story about Kinn shooting his ex fresh in his head, even if Kinn wasn’t a proven killer who once shot an apple off Porsche’s head just to make a point, the presence of the gun alone would be enough to make me question whether Porsche’s consent could really be ‘freely given.’
Kinn then uses aggressive body language, hemming Porsche in against the sink and introducing some actual violence into the situation by slapping Porsche in the face. But Porsche is much, much braver than I am, so instead of giving in to the man with the gun, he pushes him away, slaps him back, and then attempts to storm out of the bathroom.
Kinn grabs him and drags him back.
For me, this is where he crosses the line from ‘creating a coercive atmosphere where consent cannot be freely given’ to ‘actively violating Porsche’s consent.’ Okay, he had a gun, but maybe he didn’t intend to use it. He backed Porsche against the sink, but maybe he didn’t realise how aggressive that seemed. But now there’s no doubt: Porsche tries to leave and Kinn won’t let him.
Porsche doesn’t give up, though! He turns his back to Kinn, wrapping his arms protectively around himself. I honestly wanted to cheer for him at this point, because this posture is both physically defensive – it’s how you’d protect your neck and vital organs from an attacker who you couldn’t escape – and emotionally defiant. Fine, he’s saying, you can force me to stay, but I’m not going to look at you. I’m not going to give you access to the parts of my body that you clearly so desperately want to touch. I’m going to give you the cold wall of my back and nothing else. This has honestly been Porsche’s attitude all along – you can make me stay, but you can’t make me cooperate. You don’t own me.
So then Kinn whispers ‘sorry’ in his ear and Porsche turns around and they open each other’s pants and jerk each other off.
Listen. When you’re with a person you like and find attractive, and that person starts violating your boundaries, there comes a point when you ask yourself,
Am I really going to stick to my guns and continue denying this person and making us both miserable, when I could just give in and give us what we both want?
Is it really that important to me that they ‘ask nicely?’ Does my boundary matter that much actually?
If I keep refusing, maybe they’ll finally respect my no, or maybe they’ll hurt or assault me. Whereas if I give in, I can tell myself that surely they would have stopped if I’d kept refusing. Do I really want to find out the truth?
God, this situation where the person I like is violating my boundaries is making me miserable. I could really do with some comfort, reassurance and positive touch from a person I like. Oh look, there’s a person I like right here, and they will stop making me miserable and give me positive touch instead if I just consent!
It can feel awful, deciding to give in to an abuser’s coercion before they go on to outright harm you. You can feel as though a ‘real victim’ would have said no no matter what, and because you said yes in order to avoid harm, you kind of sort of more or less consented. You can feel like you’ve let down rape and abuse survivors everywhere by not holding your attacker to a higher standard of behaviour. You can feel like you’ve let yourself down. And I think that’s why the timing of Porsche’s softening and giving in is so telling and well-written. He resists until Kinn says ‘sorry,’ and then he unbends. What, exactly, is Kinn sorry for, and how does he plan to amend his behaviour going forward? As an apology, his sorry is pretty much meaningless, but what it does is give Porsche an out. He can now tell himself, ‘well, I didn’t let Kinn scare or force me into having sex. I haven’t been raped. I resisted until he apologised, and then I changed my mind.’ But in fact there hasn’t been nearly enough work done to remove the atmosphere of coercion, in the scene and in their relationship as a whole.
I’ve tried to describe some reasons why a person in Porsche’s situation might want to have sex. It’s also worth mentioning that sex in this situation could be a fawn response. People often talk about the ‘fight or flight response,’ but I’ve also seen it elaborated to four options – fight, flight, fawn, freeze. Freezing is literally going still, in the hope of going unnoticed, not provoking an attack, or simply because you’re at a loss for what to do. Fawning is an attempt to appease an attacker so that they’ll decide not to hurt you. By the time they get to the handjobs, Porsche has already attempted fight (pushing and slapping Kinn), flight (trying to leave the bathroom) and freeze (turning his back and hunching in). What other option has he got left but fawn? Moreover, as a fawn response, the handjob is incredibly effective. Kinn goes from angry and violent to distracted and adoring in record time, causing some fans to comment on how much power and control Porsche has in the scene. Which, yes, he does, but using survival sex to gain power in a relationship where you might otherwise be powerless is, how you say, not good.
I’m definitely not saying that Porsche was standing there all calculating like, ‘quick, jerk him off before he shoots me!’ I think Porsche’s conscious thought process was ‘yeah, sure, he’s hot, let’s have sex.’ I think Porsche wanted the sex, and I don’t think he’s going to experience it as a violation in hindsight. But I do very much think that all the factors I’ve outlined were there affecting his decision-making process. As long as the person is thinking, ‘sure, I’ll have sex, it’s better than the alternative,’ the atmosphere is coercive and the consent is dubious at best.
And let’s not forget that during this entire scene Porsche is staggering-drunk.
As a bit of a side note, I’ve come across as pretty harsh on Kinn in this whole post, so I want to add here that I think a lot of his behaviour is completely understandable. He starts by blaming Porsche because he suffers from paranoia and is terrified of the people he loves betraying him to his enemies – something that has happened to him before! He prevents Porsche from leaving the bathroom because he realises the interaction has gone pear-shaped and wants the chance to fix it. But a difficult truth, a truth this show tackles well, is that most people who will violate your consent are not doing it for ‘evil reasons.’ They’re doing it because they’re worried, because they just want to talk, because they’re sure you’d like it if you gave it a chance. But it’s still not acceptable to violate someone’s consent, no matter the justification. I think Kinn knows that its next to impossible for him to treat Porsche well for as long as they’re both in the Mafia – as is so often the case, the problem is not individual but systemic. That’s why in ep. 6 he tried to do the right thing and remove Porsche from the system altogether. Now they’re both back in the system, and Kinn is mistreating Porsche again. When he scolds and slaps him, he actually does pretty much exactly what Korn had him did in ep. 5 – punish Porsche for ‘allowing’ himself to fall prey to Vegas and thereby making Kinn look weak. What else can he do, as long as he’s living in this cut-throat world where the only way to stay safe is to ruthlessly project power? He and Porche are going to have to break out of the system, and right the power imbalance in their relationship, if they’re going to get their happy ending, and they’re not there yet.
So, why this long post about coercion and consent? I’ve said that I think it’s totally fine to create and enjoy this kind of scene, and I stand by that, but what does make me uncomfortable is when creators or fans think they’re portraying something that would be ethical in real life, when in fact they’re not. I’m fairly sure that the creators of KinnPorsche know what they’re about, but there’s still that little dash of unease. I think this is why I’ve actually been shipping VegasPorsche much more than KinnPorsche. Partly because I’m a contrary bitch who never ships the canon pairing, but also because Vegas is the villain and is framed as the villain, and therefore I can be positive that I, the creators and my fellow fans are all on the same page about his actions being bad. Whereas when the romantic lead does something bad, there’s always that little moment of, ‘wait, was I meant to read that as good because he’s the romantic lead? I wasn’t, right?’
This is also why I liked it better in ep.5 when Porsche was totally taken in by Vegas, than in ep. 7 where he seemed mistrustful of him throughout. I mean, partly because I wanted to watch him feel BETRAYED when the man who seems friendly turns on him, and it’s less fun if he’s suspicious of Vegas from the get-go. But also because it really drove home the message that Kinn needs to do better. So far, he and Vegas are very similar. They’re both members of the mafia, they’ve both killed people and condoned torture, they’ve both violated Porsche’s consent and autonomy. The only difference between them is that Kinn feels conflicted about his actions and carries the potential for change – but his conflicted feelings don’t mean jack to Porsche unless and until he actually follows through on them. The way Vegas was able to win Porsche over with a little fake kindness underscored that if Kinn wants to be better than Vegas, he has to do better than Vegas. Meanwhile, in ep. 7, Vegas was still performing his nice-man role perfectly – being a considerate host, an effective planner, a team player, a brave fighter; yes he was doing torture and murder but everybody including Porsche was joining in with that – and yet was met with constant distrust from Porsche, while Kinn, who was still behaving badly, was met more favourably. It started to feel very slightly as though the difference between them is not who behaves better, but rather who is The Love Interest and who is The Villain. And because Kinn is The Love Interest, he is allowed to do things, like kissing drunk!Porsche in bathrooms, that are Bad when The Villain does them.
Overall this is a very fiddly nitpick and I think there are plenty of in-universe justifications for Porsche’s discomfort around Vegas that aren’t ‘Porsche has fourth-wall-breaking-knowledge of who the villain is.’ I just have an insatiable hunger for Porsche smiling all gooey at Vegas before he gets betrayed.
Anyway, I hope I have not flown too close to the discourse-sun with this one. Let’s end with something that I, anon, and any readers can surely all agree on: that we did indeed get to see some really attractive dudes.
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rotten-dog-teeth · 2 years
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I have no gender yet every gender, but in the way that it all cancels out but in the way that it all melds together into such an abominable amalgamation of human suffering, euphoria and gut-wrenching confusion that it's just a dripping mess of static and screams, breathless, aching, and grinning the biggest grin it possibly can with whatever kind of thick-toothed pointed mouth(s) it can. I am not a person. I am a thing. I am a fucking object. I am your fucking god. I am the rat that died in your floorboards last year and for some god-forsaken fucking reason, I'm still here, still rotting, still lingering, a bad smell, a sweet smell, a disgusting smell, I am still here. I am the monster under the bed, I am the monster hiding in the closet, but I'm not in the closet because fuck knows that I know excactly what I am, and don't just make it everyone's problem, no, I go so fucking far as to make it a personal vendetta against you to drag you in to show you what lies just skin deep and give you a whole hearted mind fuck, and if you think that's horrifying, just imagine how much I could fucking break you if you saw more, if you saw more than just the tip of the fucking ice berg, no, that's too small, if you fucking saw the void that encompasses this. Can you fucking imagine? I am the monster that watches you from the shadows, from behind the trees and under the foliage among the infested ground of which you fucking trod on. I am the one watching you. I am there. I am always there. You don't know what the fuck I am, or what I'm doing, let alone going to do, but you know one thing, and that's that you're fucking terrified of me. I am the ghost that follows you around at the dead of night, down the stairs, through the hall, a whisp at your heels. I am the one who unsettles you, the one your anxiety is screaming at you about, telling you that there's someone there, please, just fucking look, it's going to get you. I am not alive, I cannot be alive, I break the scientific boundaries of what could ever possibly be considered alive, I am not organic. I am a mass of burnt plastic, smoke, calcium, metal, rusted, oxidised, and harsh. I am alive in every sense of the word, I am alive in a way that scares you, because I'm dead. I should be dead. No, I am dead. I have to be dead. Because how the fuck could something like that be alive. But every ounce of logic left inside of you, that you own, that you possess - hoping, praying to whatever forgotten, forsaken, disgraced god will grant you the fucking time of day to listen to you, that you posses it, and that it doesn't possess you - is telling you, yelling at you in such an abusive, angry, scared, violent way that I am alive. I am a gross, and frankly grotesque, mass of dead shit. I am a walking, rotting corpse. I am dripping with puss, blood, and liquifying flesh. I stink of death, of rot, of old meat left out to go bad. I am a disgusting "figure" - if you could even call me that - of wet, sopping fucking wet, charred remains of something. You don't know what it was, you don't have a singular fucking clue, but you can tell, kinda see that it might have used to be an actual something. And yet I am living, breathing - heaving in any air that I can grapple onto -, with what might be, no - has to be -, a beating heart or a few, lamely pumping, abusively forcing, what should have been blood around it. I might have used to be blood, you don't know. For all you know, it really could have been. But no matter what it used to be, it certainly wasn't anymore. Now, it was just a black, oily sludge - what could only really be percieved as closely as possible to liquified disease and age. I am an identity crisis. Not in the sense that I embody an identity crisis, I am an identity crisis. I am what you humans fear, I am what you humans seek to be rid of, I am what pains you humans to no avail, I am your euphoric fucking misery. "Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair" because I am your fucking god, and you will fear me.
I am your eldritch fucking horror.
It's currently 2:12 A.M as of now on a Tuesday, I'm drugged up on coffee that's probably strong enough to give me several heart attacks, my rooms cold, and I am thoroughly uncomfortable (courtesy of the internet).
So yeah, anyway, how's your tuesday morning been?
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miafic · 3 years
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kkusuka · 3 years
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What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.
Muddle<3
relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader 
words: 1.5k 
synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you. 
cw: insecurity
a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it! 
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Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.
Simple, but not emotionless.
It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.
Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.
Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.
So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?
You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.
But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.
Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.
So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.
Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.
“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”
“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”
If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?
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Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?
Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.
He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.
Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.
The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.
Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.
“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.
“No. I will be practicing.”
The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.
You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.
Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay?  Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’
“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.
“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?
Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.
But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.
As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.
‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’
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Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.
Jealousy.
Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.
He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.
A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.
His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.
He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.
Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.
Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.
Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?
He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.
You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.
“Waka-”
“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”
You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.
“Toshi are you-”
“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.
He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.
“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.
“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.
And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won’t let you.”
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tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel
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styx1an · 2 years
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A Chat about Chat
A short fic about how Chat came to be a singular being, written by yours truly. By all means, this isn’t canon, it’s just my interpretation of things.
Word count: 1,863
Fandom: RTGame, Miitopia (NGL I’m a little displeased with how I wrote the ending, but oh well!)
You know, there is this odd sense of irony in knowing how terrified Chat was of Magical John when they aren’t even human nor a singular being in the first place. Wait, so you didn’t know? Of how they became such a being in the first place? (They chuckle.) Then I suppose that means I’ll have to tell you their story. Well then, shall we begin the tale of Chat? (You see the twinkle in their eyes. They must’ve been waiting a while to be able to do this.)
> You nod. You’ve been waiting a while to understand Chat’s origins. Tonight, like many others, belongs to the storyteller.
> You shake your head. No thanks, you think you’re too tired. Dawn shall rise anew soon, and you will not waste your time with tall tales.
(They nod, pleased with your decision.) Then I shall begin to relay their tale.
Our tale begins in the vast lands known as Twitch, a domain that belongs to another, a far crueler being whose tale is for another time. It is a place where one is free to express their opinions and whatnot (as long as it suits the many whims of its Amazonian overlords, of course), and many are versed in the easy to learn, but difficult to master art of gaming. Many such masters have gained a large following, and even if they do not possess such skill, more often than not their humor and charisma paves the way to fame.
One example of the latter would be RTGame, a man of sizable repute. Aside from the frankly ridiculous story of the origin of his moniker, he is also known for doing some… questionable things for the sake of entertainment. There are still tales of his quest in the bathtub along with Gilbert (yes, the very same Gilbert on the quest to defeat The Darker Lord Khadgar!), the night of the Painted Wall’s Communion, the birth of Mr. Compost- But my dear, we are here for one of his lesser-known exploits, one that would change the world as we know it.
> You lean closer to the campfire, watching the storyteller with a renewed interest. Where does the tale lead? Where does it end? You need to know.
> It’s getting even later. You think some rest will be needed before tomorrow’s travels begin. Perhaps the rest of the story can wait another time?
It was a dark and stormy night. The then-Dark Lord Von Karma had just been unleashed upon the land, and I Want Die set along the path of salvation with his fellow party members, Mr. Bean the Warrior, Goofy the Thief, and Mint the Horse. He was pleased with the ease with which they vanquished monsters and saved (literal) faces, but the lack of actual conversation within the party had begun to get to him. Mr. Bean had nothing to offer other than a simple “Bean!” every now and then, and Goofy terrified him with all the “hyuck!” and talks of absolving the world’s many sins. Mint is a horse and therefore cannot participate in a verbal conversation unless you happen to understand what her neighs meant. She also happens to be the most normal member of the party, strangely enough.
Either way, I Want Die longed for a proper conversation.
And God took notice.
It was inevitable. The fourth party member was always going to join, whether he wanted one or not. It shouldn’t be notable in any way whatsoever, yet here I am regaling this tale to you.
It is not how Chat had come to join the party that I wanted to explain, but rather how they came to be.
Do you remember the man I had called RTGame? I hope you had not thought of him as irrelevant to our tale, as he is the patron saint of I Want Die’s adventures. Surely you know of the vast armory that belongs to the party? The various delicacies fed to the team? All his work. Along with his followers’ contributions, of course.
Chat was what he called his followers, the ones who watched his various endeavors as he traveled across the land of Twitch. Oftentimes the crowd would conversate with him (hence their name), offering jokes and sardonic commentary whenever he did anything remotely comedic. Other times, RT would have to tell them off for being such a rowdy bunch- the usual group of thousands could never keep quiet for long.
It happened that Chat witnessed I Want Die’s pilgrimage along with RTGame. They all looked upon him with a jolly sense of humor (after all, their master is well-versed in the art of comedy), some wondering where his travels will bring him. The others who knew how it would all end kept silent at the behest of RTGame. Either way, every single one of them was enjoying the show he had put on for them. 
And came the time to summon the fourth member.
As per usual, RTGame withdrew into his workshop, closing the curtains around him so no curious onlooker could see inside. But that did not stop Chat from yelling their predictions and demands.
“EDGEWORTH” one cried.
Another begged for a certain “End Mii!”
“CHAT CALM DOWN!”
“!uptime”
“69420toesucker just subscribed for 5 months!”
“TURG”
RTGame smiled at them. He wasn’t surprised at all at their reactions, rather it was something he had hoped would happen.
“Alright then Chat,” he said, “here they are!”
His pale, thin hands reached out to open the curtains-
And unveiled a faceless, empty husk of a being. 
Under any other circumstances, Chat would’ve rioted, demanded justice against the irony of sending a faceless doll to retrieve the faces of others. But they had no time.
Almost in an instant, the skies darkened. Clouds swirled up above with vibrant shades of violet, cobalt, magenta. Bright blue lightning strikes a tree and dissolves it into dust. Somewhere distant, something roars. The air feels thick- something magical, something electric is positively buzzing. Magic truly is in the air.
And thunder strikes once again. 
The crowd is gone.
Silence fell. All that is left is the master and the doll, no longer an empty husk.
> You look up to the storyteller, their eyes reflecting the blazing flames. You have a feeling that you know how this ends, but you’d rather have them confirm it first.
> You’re sleepy. As tempting as it is to continue listening to their story, you must admit that the very idea of slumber is even more tantalizing.
RTGame had managed to do exactly what he wanted. Chat’s consciousness, placed inside of a single, physical being. A puppet controlled by a hivemind would not be very easy to control, yes. But the idea intrigued him. And wouldn’t it be better than having a large gaggle of people constantly behind him, watching his every move? It could help I Want Die on his journey too.
So it is settled. It happened that one of the members of his temple had just crafted a rather nice puppet, in case RT needed one. And he did come to use it. It does look a little plain, as both body and head are painted in the same shade of bright white. However, the face was not white like how it was in the beginning, but a disturbingly pitch-black space. No, that’s not the right word.
Rather, it was like a void had formed. That’s also not the right phrase to describe it either, as there were drops of ichor dripping down onto the ground, dissolving the once green grass. But I digress. 
Chat broke the silence that had fallen between them, wailing as a cacophony of noises and emotions spilled out. Despite what RT had done to them, they were still determined to voice their opinions. Quite in character, really. 
“RT WHAT”
“NO NO NO”
“!uptime”
“I'M ON TV!!!”
“bazingabanana just gifted 5 subs!”
“that’s kinda meta”
As their voices grew louder, ichor kept pouring out of the void. As expected, RT thought to himself. He still needs to act fast. So with a quick snap, he fastened a wooden mask the temple-goer made; the same shade of white, a pair of beady black eyes almost as dark and soulless as the void, bright purple ears. 
The yelling and complaining didn’t stop of course. Still, as their voices were muffled by the mask, it was an arguably better experience than the previous ear-splitting wails. And it was less deadly too. Ichor had stopped dripping down onto the grass, which meant that the constant sizzling would finally stop.
Now, one last thing.
RT stared into Chat’s eyes.
This in itself wouldn’t have been quite a remarkable action had it been anyone else, but it’s Chat that we are talking about. The very sensation of doing something as simple as gazing into a hivemind’s many souls wasn’t anything ordinary, either.
It felt like you had just plunged one of your hands into ice-cold water in the middle of winter and not only are you freezing, you’re scared and you don’t know whether you’d come out in one piece.
They all stared back. Thousands and thousands looked upon RT, all different yet whispering the same things, each claiming to be an individual yet virtually nothing distinctive belongs to them. A true hivemind. It’s exactly what he wanted, but he wondered if perhaps other troubles would arise.
He let himself go from their gazes. It asks too much of him.
“Alright then, Chat. Ready?”
A gaggle of voices reply, sounding their agreements.
“OK then!”
--
I Want Die finally opened the inn door, after convincing himself that he’d like this new friend. That this one would be neither an anime villain, a comedy star or a horse. Someone with actual rational thoughts and words to speak.
In front of the door stood a short figure, clad in a purple mage’s robes. Their pitch-black eyes looked at I Want Die, and a chorus of voices came from their permanent smile:
“Hi, I’m Chat!”
And I Want Die wondered if he had forgotten to cross off ‘hivemind’ off his list of potential party members.
Chat’s introduction ends here, of course. But not their tale. The journey was far from over in fact. The party had yet to meet the Royal Court, witnessed the court’s love affair, or get kidnapped by the Dark Lord Von Karma. Even the party wasn’t complete, as it was only the first party I Want Die would encounter in his tale of redemption.
And it’s not the only story either. You haven’t heard of Magical John’s past life, or how Cupcake isn’t as pure as she seems. Gilbert’s fear of the kitchen. How Jefferson came to be, and Obama’s past life with Mr. Bean.
But I’m afraid I must stop here, for it is late already, is it not? Our journey must continue tomorrow. Let us rest. Goodnight, may the stars shine for you. (They head off into their tent, leaving you alone with the flickering embers of a dying fire.)
> You bid the storyteller goodnight. Perhaps they’ll tell you another one of their stories, underneath the moonlight once more.
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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years
Text
Winter In The Shade III
Part III
Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader
W.C. : 2383
Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius' fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter's. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?
Warnings: Mentions of food. / Eating. /
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Regulus' eyes opened immediately at the mention of his brother. With furrowed eyebrows he stared at you deeply “What?” he asked cautiously, his mind still registering your question.
You moved to sit closer to him, knees touching as you looked for his eyes “Sirius,” you repeated “Can you tell me about him?”
He stayed in silence for what felt like hours, his eyes hardened as you saw him put his walls up again. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that he closed himself at your question but now you wondered how sensitive the subject was for him to be looking at you the way he looked at everyone else.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked with pursed lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze so hard over you that it forced you to look away from him and down to your lap.
“I- well, I know you are close to him but you barely talk about him. Actually, I think I’ve never seen you talk to him.” you explained, hoping he couldn’t read you and see that it was more than just mere curiosity.
“We’re not close.” he said sharply, his voice bitter.
“Oh… okay.” you nodded, playing with the grass underneath you “I just assumed you were.” you said with a smile, trying to get him to relax as you changed the subject “What do you want to do over the weekend?” your arm moved to nudge his side, a playful smile on your face.
“What do you want to do?” he asked back, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
Your heart broke as you stared at him, his eyes void as he tried and failed to put on a smile for you, you knew you had killed his mood for the time being and you felt terrible, your own smile falling as you shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know.” you mumbled “I always choose, I thought you’d have something you want to do.”
Regulus didn’t move and you thought he might be just thinking. With your head low, you missed the way his eyes stared down at you, watching the way you thoughtlessly played with your hands as you waited for his answer. He knew you better than you would like to admit, you were never one to keep your head low. You felt bad for asking him about Sirius, retreating to the world inside your head so you would do no more harm. And he felt the knot in his stomach tightening for how he reacted, how his reaction affected you; but still he couldn’t help it, it was second nature for him to put his guard up at the mention of his brother. He wanted to tell you to never ask about Sirius again, that no matter what you heard he wouldn’t talk about it but he could see you were already overthinking everything you had done since the question crossed your mind. He said nothing and just appreciated the fact that you stayed with him and that, that’s what made you different from everyone else. Even if you didn’t understand why he reacted the way he did, even if you didn’t know what had happened between him and Sirius, you didn’t push it and you stayed when you could have easily walked away like he had seen you do with others when they stepped out of line. You stayed with him, and even if he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, he stayed there with you. You stayed for each other.
“I’m fine with anything you want to do.” he told you after minutes of silence.
Your head rose up in surprise “Really?” you asked with a small smile.
He nodded, his face relaxed “Really.” he said, turning on his side as he started to get on his feet, your eyes following his movements closely “I have to go and get something from my dorm. Wait for me here?” he said.
You nodded and sat back as he started to walk away, your eyes suddenly falling on the small group of people a few meters from you, all of them laughing and running around, nothing out of the ordinary but you stared too long. They must have felt your gaze on them, the one wearing glasses and a permanent smirk turning to the one at his side, patting him in the shoulder as he motioned his head towards you.
You jumped to your feet, running the small distance to the castle “Reg!” you yelled, grabbing the ends of your scarf as it flew over your face. He stopped at the sudden sound on your voice, looking over your shoulder in confusion before his eyes settled on you.
“What 's wrong?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours in an instant as he linked his arm with yours.
You smiled, shaking your head “Can I go with you?” you asked out of breath “I don’t really fancy staying there all alone.” you told him.
He looked back to where you sat not a minute ago, looking for any sign you were lying but saw none. “Of course.” he said, his eyes lingering in the distance before he shook his head, resuming his walk with you at his side.
You looked back once more, seeing the place completely empty but you knew it meant nothing. You had seen Sirius and he had seen you leave.
*******
The weekend was spent doing more things that you or Regulus could actually remember. Even if in all honesty, you two remembered every single detail.
You had forced the both of you to get up early to get breakfast before anyone else, or more like forced Regulus to get you up early because between the two of you, he was both the early bird and the night owl, while you were the sleepy bear.
It was one of your missions to be ghosts during the weekend, to never be seen by anyone else as if you didn’t exist in the perspective of others; and if they did manage to get a glimpse of the two of you, that was all it was, a glimpse of something they would never see again until monday morning. Two entire days for you and him to just exist and bond over simple things and activities, it was the only days he would stay out late with you and you took full advantage of that.
“What are we doing in the kitchens?” he asked as you pulled his hand to keep him walking.
“What do you think?” you asked with a laugh “What do you use kitchens for?” you let go of his hand, starting to rummage over all the things there as he just stared at you.
“Cooking…” he said wearily, his eyes snapping at you as you yelled in triumph.
“And baking!” you beamed, holding the cookie trays over your head “Well, c’mon.” you called him, motioning for him to get close. With a chuckle you turned to face him, ravishing in the completely confused look he had on his face, of course he had never done any baking. “I am sharing my Grandmother's red velvet cookies recipe with you.” you said, taking his hands and rolling his sleeves up for him “It is my pleasure to tell you that you are the only one I would share this recipe with.”
He smiled as you worked on his sleeves, watching you carefully as he gave you his other arm “I’m honored.” he said, meeting your eyes full with excitement.
You clapped your hands before you as you started to move around the kitchen, starting to measure the ingredients as you never ceased to talk, giving instructions and showing him how to get all the things ready. A task that should have been done in an hour took you both at least two; in between laughs, chatting and the small war that got you both covered in flour you emerged from the kitchens once the moon was already shining up in the night sky.
You had baked enough cookies for the week ahead of you, carrying them with you to every class and place you had to go. It was easy to sneak a small piece of it to Regulus or to eat one yourself since you spent the entirety of your time together and shared most of your classes, with the exception of your optative classes. Whilst you and Regulus took a great curiosity for Ancient Runes, you had also opted for studying divination as it woke something in you, how you could interpret different signs to know the future. It was so fun and interesting you couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Regulus thought it was ridiculous to think you could know the future by reading tea leaves but you paid him no mind.
On the days you had Divination, you found yourself wandering the halls alone, a weird sight for anyone who had been paying attention to yours and Regulus’ friendship flourishing. You walked the long hallways to get to the North Tower, a piece of cookie in hand as you took small bites of it, looking everywhere but where you were headed.
“Woah!” exclaimed a voice next to you as they barely stopped on their tracks “We really need to stop meeting like this.” Sirius smiled, looking at you with a smirk.
The corner of your mouth lifted for a fraction of second, your eyes already looking for an escape to not avail “Hello.” you mustered, starting to walk around him only for him to match your steps.
“That 's it?” he asked, baffled “Hello?” he repeated, trying and failing to imitate your voice.
Taking a hesitant look at him you tried to keep looking forward. “That’s still the right term, isn’t?” you said, never stopping to acknowledge him again, not giving him the chance to speak up.
You walked awkwardly next to him until you reached the beginning of the stairs to the Divination classroom, the space narrowed so only one person could fit comfortably, or two people walking very close together. You closed your eyes shut, you were not ready for this.
“Can I help you with something?” you snapped, turning to stare at him as you climbed on the first step of the stairs, looking directly into his eyes. You, of course, took him off guard with the sudden burst of emotion, his mouth opening with no chance to speak “You keep showing up everywhere I am, you walked next to me all the way here when you certainly don’t take divination so tell me, is there something I can help you with?” you spat the words, not even stopping to think them before they were out of your mouth. “Is it- is it because I didn’t tell you my name? Because if you really wanted to know, it’s Y/N. You’re Sirius. Nice to meet you. Goodbye.” you said, turning on your heel and walking up the stairs.
Sirius stopped momentarily to appreciate the beauty of your name, hearing the melody repeating inside his head and how much it fitted you. Y/N, he thought, shaking his head and snapping out of the trance you put him in before he jumped the steps to catch up with you “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” he said loudly, trying to keep up with your speed “I just want to know you, okay?”
You scrunch your nose in confusion but never stopped, letting his words flow as he said them.
“I think you’re really interesting and, in all honesty, really beautiful.” he said, making you hide your face from him as a flush appeared over your cheeks, but his next words erased all trace of the previous feelings he provoked on you, replacing the fluttery feeling in your stomach with a knot “I’ve seen you with Regulus and heard a lot about..”
“So that’s what this is all about?” you cut him mid sentence, clenching your hands in fists as you turned to him once more “If you want to know about Regulus you can find someone else or ask him yourself.” you said with a huff, crossing your arms as you glared at him, hating the way your heart started to beat harder inside your chest.
Sirius shook his head and climbed the few steps separating you, still leaving a considerable space in between “No, that’s no it.” he explained “You’re just… I’ve already told you, alright? I would like to get to know you.”
Saying you were confused was an understatement, the complete mess of thoughts running inside your head too loud to even form a coherent phrase. You wanted to be sure he was just using you, that he only wanted to mess with Regulus and make him mad, but the glint in his eyes told you nothing but the contrary to that exact thought. What if he was true to his word and just wanted to know you?
You were certain the hurricane of emotions was showing on your face, your eyes glued to his as he took a hesitant step towards you and, when you didn’t back away a smile appeared on his lips, walking in front of you he placed his hand over yours “Y/N.” he whispered.
He sounded just like him.
“I’m sorry.” you muttered, slowly moving your hand away from his grasp “I don’t know what happened between you and Regulus and it’s really not my place to ask, I would really hate to get involved.” And pick sides you thought, taking a step back.
You wanted to believe he meant well and just wanted to get close to you but you couldn’t risk getting Regulus hurt. If the sole mention of his brother’s name put his walls up what would happen if he found out his best friend, the only person he let his guard down with and the only one he trusted, was friends with the brother that hurt him so much. You couldn't risk hurting Regulus, not you.
“He’s the only one I have.” you said slowly with a small yet sad smile on your face, and with that you turned.
And again, Sirius let you walk away.
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simsadventures · 3 years
Text
Gilded: Chapter 3: Power Over Me
Mobster!Steve x Reader
Summary: What more can you do than have a rad bachelorette party and then move to a house full of mobsters. It all sounds fun, right? Well, not according to your experience. 
Warnings: mobster AU, drinking, swearing, surveillance, angst, smidge of fluff, violence, mention of bruises, fear 
Word Count: 5737
A/N: A little late, I know I know, but I wanted to make sure the chapter was exactly how I wanted it. I keep thinking I will get to the wedding, and then some situations occur and I know I have to concentrate on them a little more. Than being said, I think we will finally see the wedding next! What do you think of this part? Did you like it? Is the reader a little less annoying? Let me know xx
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Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 
< Previous Chapter 
The scene was supposed to be joyous, but, for some reason, the majority of what you felt was filled with sadness. Not for any particular reason, it was just the weigh of your decision finally settling in your heart and the realization hitting you that you would indeed be getting married in a week to a total stranger, who was a mobster, none less. 
You chose it, you had to remind yourself as tears fought their way in your eyes. It was just momentary sadness overpowering you, the feeling that your wedding wouldn’t be filled with people loving and caring for you, that the day would be more about showing off Steve’s power over the world than showing his love for his new bride, for whom he had none. And you would be there almost alone: no parents, no extended family, and a very few close friends. Whom you loved dearly, of course, and without whom you wouldn’t even be considering taking such a step. You needed them there, and not just the two lovable idiots you lived with. 
It was also people you’ve come to love during your university years as well as some coworkers, like Christy and Anja. Together it made around 15 people, which was actually a lot more than you had anticipated, but still. It would have to be Aidan walking you down the aisle, and just the mere thought made a choked sob escape your lips. 
The sound brought the attention of the room to you, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from all the people there, everyone telling you that you should be happy, that this was a good thing. Of course, nobody except Caroline and Aidan knew the reality behind the wedding. All they thought was happening was that you fell madly in love with Steve Rogers, and now you two were tying the knot. You even overhead Aisha say that you were definitely pregnant, otherwise, you wouldn’t have rushed into it like this. You tried to assure everyone that there was no pregnancy at all, but, of course, people believed what they wanted, and you lacked the energy to go around the room and speak to them individually, denying what they formed in their heads. 
It was Friday night, and you were in your apartment, surrounded by all those people who would come to your wedding. You sent a list of names to Steve that afternoon, and, after what you assumed was a background check on all of them, he agreed that yes, these 15 people could actually come. And when he did, you called an emergency meeting at your apartment, using it both as a way of inviting them to the wedding and as a kind of bachelorette party, where all you wanted to do was to drink heavily, eat a disgusting amount of carbs and pass out around dusk. Safe to say, all of your friends had been in, and by the time it was 11 PM, you were all tipsy, and people started to dance. Some (ehm, ehm, Caroline) even on a table, which was hilarious to the rest of you. 
The sadness came and went all evening, but you were determined not to let it ruin your night. So, every time you felt like it was creeping up on you again, you just told somebody and let them hug you until you were feeling better. 
Then, somebody came up with the idea to play Never Have I Ever, and since the tequila still burned in your veins, you agreed immediately. And so the game started. You were roaring like a pride of lions, each answer louder than the previous ones, but the most fun arose from telling each other funny stories. 
“Ok, so this one time I was blowing off my boyfriend, right? And you know how much I hate the taste of sperm, and he knows it as well, but this one time he really insisted on my swallowing, and so when he finally came, I squeaked and pointed somewhere behind him so that I could spit the cum to glass under the table, and when he turned around I showed him my mouth, void of any liquid, and he looked super proud,” your friend Naila laughed as she told the story to the question: never have I ever swallowed cum. 
The night was flowing smoothly, and soon, you saw that it was getting somehow lighter outside. And, sure enough, when you looked out of the window, you saw that the sunrise was coming in mere minutes. 
“Guys, guys! The sunrise is here. Let’s go to the roof to enjoy it,” you yelled even though half of the people were already fast asleep. The few of you who were still barely alive, which was around 5 of you, staggered towards the door and crawled up the stairs to the highest levels, and when you opened the last door, you had New York underneath you. 
You were wasted and exhausted, but the sight poured new life into you as you watched the early orange rays shine on one building at a time, waking up the city that never slept. It was magical, and it took your breath away. You felt your worries melting away as you saw a new day coming, and you thought it was a new day with many possibilities and hopes for you. You had nothing to lose, and Steve proved to you that he would, indeed, take care of you if need be. All would be if you just played your part and learned enough about Steve to be able to escape his wrath. 
The exhaustion then hit your body just as the ray hit your face, and you waved at the drunk group watching the sunrise, each of them in their own realm of thoughts, and soon enough, you sauntered back to your room, where you fell asleep just like the rest of the bachelorette party. 
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A piercing tone woke you up with a start, and, for a second, you didn’t even know where you were, what time it was, or even what fucking century it was. The throbbing in your head prevented your brain from functioning properly, and so you rummaged through the pile of clothes next to your bed, fishing for what was obviously your phone. Gosh, how you hated the ringtone, and you reminded yourself to just mute your phone altogether because then nothing like this could happen again. 
You picked up without so much as looking at the screen and just sneered a harsh what into the speaker. 
“Well, good morning to you too, honey,” you heard Steve’s smug voice and rolled your eyes so hard the pain in your head increased. “Is this the way to greet your future husband? I don’t fucking think so,” he continued, and a considerable part of you contemplated just hanging up on him and his annoyingly sexy voice. 
“Steve, I have no fucking idea what time it is, but it’s definitely not time for you to call me and want me to be nice. Give me a few good hours of sleep, and then we can talk, ok?” You hoped this would do it, but from the silence on the other side, you assumed he wouldn’t let be just yet. 
“What happened? Did your bachelorette party get a little out of hand, and you went to sleep only after sunrise?” 
You gasped, shocked how he knew any of it, and for the first time, the fog in front of your brain lifted a little bit. You checked the time, and seeing it was only 9 AM, you assumed that asshole woke you up on purpose if he knew so much about your nightly activities. 
“How the fuck-“
“Language!” He yelled suddenly, and you flinched at the intensity of his voice. “I know everything, and I told you I would have somebody keeping an eye on you at all times. You’re only lucky the guy sleeping next to you is gay, you’d be in so much trouble otherwise, honey,” Steve spat, and the only sound you could muster was a long huff, as you regretted ever being born. 
“What do you want, Steve? If you know so much, you must know that I’m beat and all I wanna do is sleep, with a guy in my bed or without him. So, if you have something to tell me, please do, otherwise, have a good day, and I’ll catch up with you later.”
“We’re gonna have so much fun together, you and I, Y/N. I’m calling because I wanted to let you know that your room is prepared and ready for you and that your bodyguard will pick you up at exactly 8 PM, so don’t be late. Clint will also help you carry all things you need. I’ll send you his number so that you can be in touch with him. Oh, and honey? Take some aspirin and go to sleep, you sound like you need it,” even through the phone, you could hear him smirk as he hung up and let you on your own once again. Thank God.
“Who was it?” Aidan asked sleepily from the other side of the bed, and you just grumbled some response, not really sure if he understood what you meant, but when he hummed and patted your outstretched hand, you took it as yes, I understand you mean your future husband Steve Rogers, nice talk. 
The phone signalled you received a text, and when you looked at it, it was your bodyguard’s phone number and a directive, telling you to go to sleep already, because the dark circles under your eyes didn’t suit you. 
Oh, how you wanted to kill this man already. He got on your nerves more easily than anybody ever before, and for a brief moment, you wondered why he affected you so. You didn’t even know him, and you shouldn’t let him tossing you back and forth, but here you were, pissed because you could just imagine how proud he was of himself that he woke you up and told you what to do so many times in such a short call. 
Sighing, you got up from the bed and went to check the window to see if you could spot the nosy bodyguard ratting on you to Steve. You needed to have a word with him because he just couldn’t go running to Steve every time you blinked. 
Looking around the street, you tried to spot a strange vehicle, one that didn’t fit into the street you grew to know so well. And, sure enough, there was a large SUV, much like the one you had driven with Steve before, and you noticed that the windows were tilted. Since your apartment was on the first floor, anybody from the street had a great view right into your flat, and because you passed out totally exhausted, you didn’t have the time, nor did you remember to shut your blinds. 
You huffed and shut them now, cursing Steve and his nosiness because he wasn’t making your life any easier, and you weren’t even married yet. The year in front of you would be annoying and difficult, but maybe it would make you feel alive again. 
Shaking your head, you didn’t let the memories flood your brain as you strode back to your back, plopped on it belly-first and fell straight asleep.
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“Are you sure it’s everything?” Aidan looked around your now half-empty room, except for the furniture that you knew you wouldn’t need. Steve promised to give you a furnished room, and you took his word for it, so you just took the essentials, like your clothes and sentimental stuff. Marie Condo would have been proud because you still managed to get rid of a few things that didn’t spark joy!
“Yeah, and even if I left something here, I could still come, you know? It’s not like I’m never seeing you or this place again. I’ll still be like a 30-minute ride away,” you smiled soothingly at him, but he just shook his head, obviously fighting all the emotions swirling in his heart. 
“Alright, alright. No crying. I’ll call you guys when I’m all settled, and Steve actually lets me be by myself, and I’ll show you the room, ok?”
Both Aiden and Caroline nodded speechlessly and then pulled you in a group hug. 
“You sure you wanna do it? We can still make it seem like we kidnapped you and take you somewhere to Mexico, or Argentina, or wherever he wouldn’t find you,” Caroline whispered, and you laughed through the tears fighting their way out of your eyes. 
“I’ll be fine, you’ll see. We will all have so much fun, and before we know it, the year is over, and I’m back here with you guys, having lived a little,” you smirked, and they nodded reassuringly, not really sure if it really was the best way to live a life, but they didn’t want to push you again. Your heart was set, and they both knew there was nothing they could do now. Except, of course, really kidnapping you. 
“Miss Y/L/N, we should go. The boss said we should be there at 9 PM at the latest, and I would prefer if we could be a little early,” Clint said professionally, but you could see that he was afraid of what would Steve do had you arrived late. You didn’t want to start this weird-ass journey by pissing your future husband or making him hurt his employees (you didn’t know whether he would actually do that, but just to be on the safe side, since he did cut off a guy’s finger a mere few days ago). 
You nodded and stepped from your best friends, looking at them and smiling brightly. You didn’t want any teary goodbyes, so you just showed them thumbs up and followed Clint out of the door. You knew there would be some tears when you left but didn’t think they would come as early as on the first step from your apartment. 
Fortunately, there weren’t that many steps to go before you were out of the building and rushed into the SUV by Clint. It was dark already, but you didn’t want him to see you cry, so you swiftly pulled out your sunglasses and put them on, not saying a word to Clint as he started the car and pulled it into New York’s night traffic. The lights around you were almost blinding, and for a moment, you were glad you had the glasses on, but then another wave of regret and sadness hit you, and you had a hard time keeping in the sobs. Scratching your arms, you stared out of the window and took a few calming breaths, telling yourself to get a grip because you were about to enter the lion’s den, and you couldn’t show them any emotions. 
You knew Clint knew what was going on, but he was gentleman enough not to comment on it. Still, you needed to make sure he understood this little episode was just between the two of you. 
“Can I ask you something, Clint?” You said suddenly and saw his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror, meeting your eyes for a moment. 
“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. However, I should warn you, I am not allowed to give you certain information,” he said formally, and you nodded knowingly. 
“Yeah, right. If I asked you to keep a little secret from your boss, would you keep it?” You asked and nibbled on your lower lip anxiously. 
He seemed to have thought for a second before he nodded his head in a manner telling you that there were things Steve didn’t need to know. His eyes met yours again before he spoke up. 
“I’m now your bodyguard, and if I think the information kept from the boss is in your best interest, then I won’t tell him anything. For example, you smiled all the way to the apartment, no tears and no sunglasses. Though, I think you should powder your nose and dry your face,” he smirked, and you laughed a little, nodding gratefully and doing exactly as he said. 
The car stopped exactly as you put all the supplies back into your purse, and you had a feeling Clint took a longer route to Steve’s house just to give your face the time to dry up and calm down. Checking the time, you saw it was 10 minutes before 9 and saw the relief on Clint’s face when he realized the same thing. 
“Alright, I will take you to the boss and then will get the boys to help with your things. We won’t go through anything, but if you need our help when you’re unpacking, all you have to do is text me,” Clint said, walking you to the door. 
The man you met on your first night there was standing as a sculpture at the exact same spot, and you wondered if he ever moved from that hallway. He did move towards you, gesturing to your purse, but Clint’s hand stopped him mid-motion. 
“She’s clean. I’ve been with her the whole time,” he said sternly and with authority, and when he saw the first man taking a breath to protest, Clint just gave him a chilling frown, and the man stepped down, hung his head in defeat and let you through. 
“It’s not a problem, Clint; I could have shown him the purse, you know?” You almost whispered as you walked through the empty rooms and hallways with Clint by your side. 
“They need to learn to respect you, Miss. You are, after all, marrying the boss very soon, and they need to understand that you are not a threat,” he gave you a curt nod, and you blushed a little. You didn’t know what it was, but the way Clint spoke to you with so much trust and respect already made you feel much better. You knew it would be an issue, so having somebody on your side was a huge relief already. 
“Thank you, Clint, I really-“ 
“Well, happy you two are best buddies already! Are you gonna braid each other’s hair and do each other’s nails soon too?” A voice snapped you back to reality, a voice you already knew too well. Steve was leaning against a door, his face stoic despite the mocking tone of his voice. Clint obviously tensed next to you, mumbled some apology and scurried out of the room, leaving you with Steve. 
You just looked at him and crossed your arms on your chest. 
“Do you need to be like this?” You asked incredulously, not really understanding why he had to be such an ass when all you did was having some sort of conversation with one of his loyal men. 
“Like what, honey? You seem to forget who I am and what I can do to you and your fucking life,” he sneered when he finally pulled away from the door and marched right in front of you. 
Your arms fell from your chest as you stared at him, trying to figure him out. Which, considering he was a prolific mobster, wasn’t the easiest task at hand. But you tried nevertheless and poked to see where was all this coming from. He obviously needed to be in control of every situation, always the centre of attention, and, you realized, it was probably this that pissed him off. You walked in, not really paying attention to him standing by the door but carelessly talking to somebody else. But his attitude was another thing entirely. 
“What do you want me to say, Steve? That I’m sorry I talked to somebody else and that it won’t happen again? You know it probably will, especially since you assigned Clint with the task of taking care of me and making sure I survive this year with you, which is really all he had done in the 40 minutes I have known him,” you reasoned, trying to sound confident but not pushy. You needed to show him that he couldn’t just toss you around like he might have thought. You didn’t expect him changing his attitude altogether for you, but you, at least, hoped he would go easy on you. 
He was seething but also thinking; you could see his mind going in overdrive to come up with something snarky and mean. But you were quicker than him, once again. 
“Will you be so kind and show me to my room? I would like to get settled in before we start talking about the wedding.”
“There will be no talk of a wedding. All you have to take care of is go tomorrow and pick your fucking dress. Everything else is being dealt with. I won’t need you tonight, so you can go and be by yourself till tomorrow,” he snapped and walked away without saying another word. 
Great, now you felt like you were grounded, and all you did was talking with somebody nice to you. You shook your head disapprovingly and headed in a direction you thought might have been your room, but after taking a few turns, you weren’t even sure you were in New York anymore. 
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” You heard from behind you, and before you knew what was happening, somebody pushed you forcibly against the nearest wall, pressing their elbow into your neck. You coughed, surprised, clawing at the man’s forearms and trying to let him loosen the press because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 
“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” He yelled into your face, and you tried to tell him, but your voice wouldn’t come out. So, you just stared at him, tears filling your eyes before you heard a loud hey from somewhere behind you two and saw a man with long brown hair running towards you. 
“Sarge, this woman was roaming around here. I think she is a spy,” the man still holding you said to the newly arrived guy, and all you could do was shake your head and tried to make yourself look as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t difficult considering you were in no position to be able to even defend yourself had the man decided to crush your trachea. 
“Fucking idiot! That’s the boss’ bride! Let her go, you dickhead,” the man, sarge, growled, and you felt the pressure leaving your body. Which was all it took for you to collapse on the floor and start coughing uncontrollably, gripping your neck in your hands to protect it from any further disturbance. 
“I-I, I didn’t know, Sarge! Don’t tell him. I thought she was some fucking spy. What the hell was she even doing here all alone, huh? It’s not my fucking fault she came sniffing around stuff that is none of her business,” the man tried to defend himself, but from the murderous gaze he received from the sergeant, he wasn’t very successful. 
“Are you ok, Miss? Did he break anything? Is your head spinning? Are you feeling nauseous? Any of this?” He crouched down to your level and extended an arm to you, and you flinched instinctively, not feeling too sure who was your friend here and who wasn’t. So, to play it safe, nobody was your friend, and you’d be scared of them all, forever. Easy business. 
The man saw your reaction and frowned even more but was persistent when he removed your hands from your neck to see an already-forming bruise alongside your throat. 
“You need to talk to me, Y/N. Are you hurting anywhere?” 
You coughed and grimaced because, yes, in fact, you did hurt and that all over the fucking neck and even your head. Which, given the man almost crushed your fucking throat with his elbow, wasn’t that surprising. 
“I’ll be fine. And I wasn’t sniffing around; I was just looking for my room. I thought it might be somewhere here, and I would have asked if I saw anyone. But this place is like a fucking maze, and I was all alone,” you screeched, and the sergeant nodded and helped you to stand up. He was pulling out what looked like a phone, but you stopped him. 
“Don’t call him, please. I’m fine. I just need to get to the room, so I can put some cold water on it, have a drink and go to sleep. Please,” you accentuated and saw the man weighing his options before he put the phone back to his pocket and nodded for you to follow him. 
“I will tell him, just so you know. Steve needs to know about this, and we need to make sure you are introduced to the whole house the first thing in the morning so that this doesn’t happen again. But he needs to know. I will give you a few minutes to take it all in before I do call him, though,” he said with a resolution in his voice, and while you wanted to protest, you saw that it would have been to no avail. So, not saying another word, you let yourself in what was supposed to be your room and took it all in. 
The walls were this very soft grey, which you actually preferred to the cold white you saw a lot all over the house. There was a king-sized bed against the main wall, framed with two bed-side tables and two matching white and gold lamps. There were many pillows on the bed and a plaid, grey and blue, throw as well, making it all feel very homey. You could see a large closet, where you could have easily fit ten times the amount of clothes you owned. The only other thing in the room was a table with a chair and some drawers, where you could picture yourself working and writing. 
However, when you turned around, you saw something that caught your attention. An easel with a little table on wheels, on top of which was a palette where you could see yourself mixing colors left and right. You squealed, but the sound reminded you that you have just been assaulted and that you could admire the room later. 
You took your time in the bathroom, inspecting your neck and hissing here and there when you touched it carefully. You knew the sarge was outside your door, probably counting in his head before he called Steve, and you were actually pretty surprised he wasn’t marching in already. Just when you thought of it, the door to your room flew open, and you heard Steve and the man talking (well, actually, more like yelling at each other).
“Where the fuck is she? I’m going to kill Drax. I swear to fucking God, man. How is it even possible that he does shit like this? They were all supposed to be briefed, for fuck’s sake. Imma have Sam’s ass as well for this. Fuck!” He yelled and kicked into something, which made you frowned, and you rushed out of the bathroom. 
Steve spun around and almost ran towards you, cradling your face in his hands carefully and lifting your head so that he could have a clear view of the injuries. He was swearing under his breath, but you couldn’t help it and stare at him, wide-eyed. He was actually careful with you, sweet even as he took it all in, and when he was sure you wouldn’t die right there, he took a step back from you. 
“Are you ok?” He asked after a moment, and all you could was just nod and stand there awkwardly, scratching your arms behind your back. 
“Will you be able to find your room easier next time?” 
“No, we took too many turns. But I won’t leave this room till morning anyway, and I will learn to stay out of the way very quickly, I promise,” you rushed to say, not really wanting to meet any of his crew alone again. 
“You can’t be scared walking around here, honey. I will show you around right now, and I have already called an emergency meeting, and I want you there. This can never happen again,” he said gravely, and you understood this was probably his way of apologizing for something that wasn’t really all his fault. Well, he didn’t have to storm off and leave you there, nor did he have to scare Clint away, who was ready to show you to your room in the first place. 
“Is it necessary, Steve? If I’m quite honest, I don’t feel too comfortable leaving the room right now,” you quipped, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Weirdly, you felt a little better having the skin-on-skin contact with him because, at least now, nobody would be stupid enough to attack you. 
You tried to remember the way and took in the details that would make you not lose your trail again, such as the red vase on one of the tables in the corner that looked just like the corner two minutes ago, but the vase was something you could remember, so you took a mental note of that and other little things that would serve for your safety, obviously. Because when Steve told you people would want you dead, you sort of didn’t expect those people would be in the house with you. 
You walked through the spacious kitchen and the adjacent dining room to find yourself in what looked like a meeting room, with around 20 men gathered and scattered all over the room. 
When Steve finally stopped, he let go of your hand, but he instinctively reached for you and pulled you against his side. You looked at him in slight disbelief again but didn’t say anything as he stared in front of himself till the room was as quiet as a freaking church during a sermon. 
“Let me make this very quick: however lays as much as a fucking finger on Y/N here, I will kill you, and I won’t give a fuck who you are. You were briefed that I’m getting married to the woman I want, and because somebody wasn’t paying attention to the fucking briefing, evidently, my fiancé is now sporting a black neck, which she will have to cover for our wedding. Drax, you and I will speak tomorrow, I was ready to kill you, but I’m a reasonable man, so I will sleep and think of your punishment then. Now, any questions?” He asked threateningly, and you knew even if somebody did have a question, nobody would dare to ask it now. 
And just as you predicted, the room was as quiet as before, and Steve waved his hand so that everybody was dismissed and they could breathe again. Just not in his presence. 
“Sam, you stay here,” Steve added when he saw one of his closest men leaving the room as well. 
“I will deal with him, Steve. I don’t know how that could have happened, but it won’t ever again, I promise. If it does, you can have my head, man,” the bulky man said and smiled warmly at you. 
“By the way, hi, I’m Sam. I’m like the muscles here, you know? So, if you need to pick something up, I’m your guy,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled but took his hand to shake it. 
“Nice to meet you, Sam, and I will remember that, thank you.” 
“Alright, now, we have all the pleasantries behind us, you can go back to your room and go to sleep. And Y/N, if anybody as much as looks at you the wrong way, you tell me, ok? This marriage might not be a genuine one, but none of these assholes knows that or should care about that. They should protect you just like they protect me, and I don’t care what they say. I can’t have my fucking wife scared to walk these halls,” he was still frowning as he was saying all this to you, but you could see he was much more relaxed than when all the men were in the room. These two, the sergeant whose name you still didn’t know, and Sam, were obviously close to Steve because despite the winks Sam gave to you, Steve didn’t make a scene, nor did he give you the pointed looks when others were around. Still, you were on thin ice, and there was too much drama for one day for you to try and challenge him in any way. 
“Ay ay, Captain,” you chuckled, and the corner of Steve’s mouth actually moved a little, so you took that as a good sign. 
“Alright, I will try and get back to my room and call it a day because tomorrow is an important day! So, nice to meet you, gentlemen, and I will see you soon, I guess,” you waved at them awkwardly, and Sam waved back enthusiastically as you left the men to themselves. 
“She is actually quite nice,” Sam summarized, and winked at Bucky, who just rolled his eyes at him in annoyance, having just enough of Sam’s antics for one day. 
“Yeah, yeah, she actually is, when she’s not talking back and challenging every fucking thing I say,” Steve complained, and it was a turn for both men to roll their eyes at their best friend. 
“Oh yeah, because you love when they’re meek and quiet, we forgot. C’mon, man, somebody fucking choked her today, and she was still standing here with her head held high, keeping it together like a fucking pro. I say she is perfect for you,” Sam said defensively when he saw the murderous stare from his friend/boss. 
Good thing Sam didn’t see you in your room because as soon as you closed the door behind yourself, the tears just streamed down your face, and small sobs left your lips. You were glad the day was over and dreaded what the next day would bring. 
Next Chapter >
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Az scolding his shadows for sneaking out to hang out with Gwyn and then Gwyn scolding him for scolding the shadows as the shadows cheer their mommy on in the background🥰
Prompt idea from @imsointobooks Thank you so much! I loved writing this!
Everywhere. He'd searched everywhere.
Azriel had been frantic, searching for his shadows. He had been working on a report as they silently slid away from him. He'd noticed, but hadn't minded. They were used to slipping away and returning back to him in awhile. But never all of them, it was usually only a few jumpy ones, and came skittering back soon enough.
Now, after about almost 45 minutes or more, they still hadn't bothered coming back.
With the absence of them swarming over his shoulders, he felt incomplete. Spiraling back to being locked up in that dark cold cell, all alone. It was only when the shadows had chosen him, had protected him; had he felt safe. Now with them nowhere in sight, he felt lonely once more.
The shadows were a part of him, as he was of them. He was bounded to them seemingly by his soul, and deep within he knew, that they were safe and fine, wherever they were, and happy as well. Quite content than in a long while since now. He could feel them, their cheery emotions radiating pure joy to him. And he couldn't help but wonder, just what was making them so happy. And just where in Prythian were they?!
He was growing restless, he yelled into the void, demanding where they were. They jostled at once, before sneering back at him through the channel. But one shadow flew up to him, binding to his wrist and tugging him outside.
He followed, greatly irritated, not enjoying being pushed around. Out into the training ring, where the shadow pulled on him with such excitement that he stumbled in his steps. Gaining back his stance, he looked over and saw a fierce Valkyrie, dancing with her sword along with his shadows, fighting them. He tensed a moment, worried why his shadows were fighting with Gwyn. If they would intimidate her, but figured that was clearly not the case, marveling at how effortlessly she was yielding her sword, matching his shadows at every step. She wasn't afraid of them, she would not yield. That competitive strike he shared oh so well with her, never backing away from a challenge, always clashing him head on, word to word, blow to blow. Az rushed over to their side of the pit and summoned all his shadows to him in a haste, almost as if embracing them after missing them for too long. Unrelentingly they returned to him, supposedly deciding it was enough toying with him.
The priestess had noticed now, halting mid blow. She looked to Azriel and smiled brightly. "Oh hello there Shadowsinger!" "Or only singer, I suppose?" She gave him a mocking grin. Az rose an amused eyebrow, as to enquire. He had confessed that he could sing on Winter Solstice, was she teasing him for that? Gwyn only chuckled at him as she explained, "Well a Shadowsinger, whose shadows are missing from him, makes only a singer, does it not?" "And besides, you have admitted that you sing, I can only assume how well you are." Contemplating her answer, a heartbeat later, Az burst into fits of laughter, rich and loud. He laughed so hard that he had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. He couldn't remember the last he laughed so heart fully. He looked up at Gwyn to see her gazing down at him fondly, like she was watching a baby giggle.
" Very bad joke Berdara." He remarked with a crooked grin.
"And is that why the reputed stoic faced spymaster is a muddle of laughter in front of me right now?"
"My humor seems to be just as dead as yours priestess. Unfortunate souls we are."
"Truly, yes of course." She retorted, trying and failing to hide that smile on her beautiful face.
"Jokes aside Shadowsinger, what brings you here?" She asked, piercing him with a knowing gaze. She knew the answer, only wanted to hear it from him.
"My shadows, well." "They disappeared and I found them here. They seem to be quite drawn to you."
"Well at least someone is," she muttered, not giving him the chance to ask her what that was about and immediately saying "I'm sorry if it bothered you. I was training alone when they showed up, so I decided to train with them. They're fun to have around, curious little souls."
This surprised him, it wasn't new to him that his shadows were off the leash when she was around, but considering them souls? Fun to be around with? No one had ever felt that way, Had never sympathized with the comfort his shadows brought him.
"That they are. When they disappeared, I immediately missed their company." He reminisced all the times they were his steady lone companions in the darkness.
"I'm sorry if it occurs as if I'm stealing them from you. I understand that they are a part of you. I only enjoy their company as much as yours." She apologized with a heavy guilty look, genuinely worried if she had offended Az by his shadows to taking a liking her.
"No Gwyneth- nothing of such sort. The shadows admire you deeply and enjoy your company very much. I'm happy to see them associate with you. It is not everyday, actually never that they are accepted and liked by anyone but me. And likewise that they ever pick interest in anyone. They must've grown steadily bored of me as well." He admitted. "And are you admitting that you enjoy my company?" He threw her a taunting smirk.
"Well five hundred years into with a brooding spymaster might do that to them." "And well yes, you aren't the worst company to have around Shadowsinger, one of the best really, seeing that you come in package with these lovelies." And as on cue one of his shadows darted to her, twirling itself around her raised palm as she giggled looking at it. At the sound of her melodic voice, the rest of his shadows took of to her from behind him twirling round her like a litter of puppies, no matter how hard he tried to reign them in.
"For the love of Cauldron, stop running bothering her you little menaces!" He yelled at them, "Do you HAVE to disobey me and embarrass me in front of her?!"
"But we aren't disobeying you Shadowsinger, Neither are we bothering her. We adore her and she likes us!" They shouted joyously. "Are you jealous Shadowsinger?" They taunted him.
Jealous? What possibly for could he be jealous of them; that they could see Gwyn whenever they wished to? That they could bring her beautiful smiles and bounts of laughter alive? Or that they could be as close to her as they wished and graze her skin?
" Enough." He let out sternly. "Stop dazzling and come back here. You're grounded for a week. No Gwyn. No sneak outs." He reeled them in with all his strength despite their protests. They were going off hook and disturbing the priestess way too much. The shadows tried running to Gwyn and hide behind her back as Az pulled them in.
The corners of Gwyn's lips turned down as she frowned on him.
"Azriel..." She put her hands on her hips and faced him with a stern expression. Az looked back to her in confusion.
"Are you trying to stop your shadows from associating with me? Am I such a bad influence on them?" She asked with a hint of nervousness.
" No- Gwyn, they- I don't want them disturbing you. You don't have to put up with their fuzziness. I wouldn't want want them to frighten you. They are only a discomfort and remainder of my darkness to many."
"Seriously?" Gwyn gave him an incredulous look. "You think they disturb me? I love them! They are SO much fun! They look out for me. Why would they ever frighten me!? They're such a steady and soothing companion when I lay awake because of my nightmares. They care for me! And I will not let you break my beautiful friendship with them just because you think they would scare me. Never apologize for what you are Az, you are a Shadowsinger. Your shadows are a part of you. No part of you would ever scare me Az." She held his hand in his hers "I see you, all of you. And I am not afraid."
Az didn't know what to say, he was overwhelmed. This female, standing in front of him. Facing him, unafraid and accepting.
He could only croak out "Why?" His voice full of raw emotion.
"I think you already know the answer to that." Her voice almost inaudible as she patted his chest and smiled softly.
"Now let those shadows out before I make you fight me." She ordered immediately before he could ponder on what she said before.
And he did, how could he ever deny her? He let his shadows out as they jumped to her, cheering her on for bringing them freedom, and dancing along with her laugh. Another sight he would never forget, bringing him a smile as he buried this image deep within. Again glowingly brightly in his chest
And here's another one. I didnt try for any physical descriptions this time.
And while writing I seemed to have made it more of a description of Az and his shadows' relation than their liking to Gwyn. It doesnt really perfectly fit the head canon and that was why I was planning of a part 2 to this if you guys wanted. Let me know if you're up for it!
Up next I have another A-mazing idea from @aelingalathyniusrailme and I absolutely loved it! It might take a day or two but I want put up my best for it!
Always open for suggestions and feedback. Feel free to send me Head Canons and other prompts!
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taetaespeaches · 3 years
Text
“You’ve been holding out on me, Min.”
yoongi x reader (oc) genre: fluff; slightly crack honestly word count: 1.8K
a/n: So remember when Yoongi, Jin, and Jimin played Just Dance a while back? Well, this is inspired from that. Yoongi and Kid are just being their soft playful selves as they play a bit of Just Dance together. It’s honestly so dumb hahaha. But I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading! :))
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As a grown woman, maybe spending your Friday evening playing Just Dance alone wasn’t the coolest activity you could be doing. Then again, maybe it was. Afterall, you were an absolute ace at the PrimaDonna dance.
Singing along as you went through the moves, suddenly, your front door opened, your focus leaving the TV screen as your wide eyes met Yoongi’s tired ones across the room. It was a matter of a seconds, hell, milliseconds, before his lips curved up into a gummy smile at your expense.
“Jesus, Kid,” he chuckled amusedly, “is this what you do when I’m not here?”
Holding back a smile of your own by biting down on the inside of your lower lip, you shook your head, causing Yoongi to only smile even wider as he shut the door. “Only on Friday nights,” you joked, Yoongi tossing his head back in laughter.
“I was not expecting to find you like this,” he told you through his amusement, you finally cracking a smile as you giggled.
“Well perhaps you weren’t supposed to come home early and catch me in this compromising position,” you countered sassily.
Yoongi raised his hands above his head in mock surrender just before kicking his shoes off. “Not compromising, just surprising,” he corrected with a small smile. Walking toward you, he nodded to the screen. “Go ahead,” he beamed. “Show me what you got.”
Cocking your head at him, you let a small chuckle slip out before nodding in acceptance. “I will then,” you told him, focusing back on the game as you tried to find your place. The song was heading into the bridge and the final chorus when you jumped back into the choreography, your boyfriend taking a seat on the floor to the side of the living room.
“Got you wrapped around my finger babe,” you sang along to the song, Yoongi’s eyes glued to you as you blew him a kiss, which was a perfectly placed part of the choreography. Scoffing at you, the man’s mouth spread into a fond smile as he continued staring at you.
As the song picked up for the final chorus, the game telling you to run in place as you moved your arms back and forth quickly above your head, you couldn’t help but laugh in response to your boyfriend’s burst of giggles at your ridiculous dancing.
“Wow,” he cheered happily, dragging the word out as you danced along. “You’re actually really good at this,” he said in what almost seemed like surprise.
“Of course I am,” you agreed defensively through a smile. “You should see me do Rasputin,” you added, Yoongi letting leaning to the side as he nearly crumbled to the floor in laughter. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to get five stars here,” you yelled out to him as he continued giggling quietly at you.
“You took like a two-minute break, there’s no way you’re getting even three stars,” he countered playfully, you squealing as you went through the moves even more intensely, trying to build your score up.
However, your efforts were futile when you caught Yoongi out of the corner of your eye minimally going through the moves on the screen, barely giving any effort as he lightly swayed his arms back and forth. Stopping your motions almost completely, you turned toward Yoongi to watch him.
“Yes, King, give me nothing,” you teased, the man looking to you with a challenging expression, his eyes slightly widened.
“Well give me something groovy,” he nodded to the screen, your orbs widening in response this time.
Pointing to the television, you repeated his words. “Something groovy? Ok, I see you Grampa Min, let’s see what you can do,” you grinned as Yoongi began to stand up.
Completely voiding your own score, you quickly set up the dance you already had in mind for your funky little dancer man. As he shed himself of his jacket, tossing it on the couch behind you both, he turned to the screen to find Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by ABBA starting.
Yoongi began chuckling in realization, his shoulders shaking as he let his head fall forward just slightly. “Ok, ok, ok,” he collected himself, pulling his shirt sleeves up his forearm. Preparing to play the game, he rolled his head back and forth from shoulder to shoulder to play up the seriousness of the situation. “You know me well,” he noted, commenting on the perfect song selection. Smirking to yourself you took a seat where Yoongi was previously sat watching you, settling in to enjoy the show Yoongi was about to put on for you.
Getting into character, he sat on the couch, looking around the room in feigned boredom to mimic the avatar on screen, already sending you into fits of giggles. Suddenly, he broke out into the choreography, swinging his arm in a circular motion with a swivel of his hips.
As you cheered in excitement, Yoongi held back the laugh that was threatening to leave his lips, scrunching his face up in an attempt to look serious. “Whoah!” You yelled, as Yoongi nodded cockily, going through the moves almost too perfectly. “Main dancer Suga didn’t come to fucking play,” you shouted out, causing Yoongi to break his composure as he shyly laughed, keeping his focus on the screen.
His attempts to ignore you were useless as you continued to hype him up throughout the song, never leaving much time between your playful cheers.
When the disco instrumental came in towards the end of the song, you couldn’t help but fall against the floorboards as you laughed. The choreography showed out with some of the most Yoongi-esque moves of the entire dance.
“Yes, King, give me everything,” you cheered to him, the man crumbling instantly at the comment as he silently laughed before screeching in exhilaration.
“Ah, Kid,” he complained through an exaggerated scream as he tried to get back into the dance but struggled to find his place as he continued to laugh. “I was on my way to a perfect score,” he whined through his amusement.
Placing your hand over your mouth, you promised not to make any more comments, the man smiling widely at your childish antics. Suddenly showing how winded he had become, he huffed. “Fuck, how long is this dance?” He continued to grumble, only making you giggle even more.
When he finally finished the dance, pulling a pretty damn decent score, he fell back against the sofa as you stood up. “This has to be one of the stupidest things we’ve ever done,” he vouched, you giggling as you chose the next song.
“I know, I love it,” you giggled, Yoongi sighing just before chuckling once again.
“Another one?” He questioned in exasperation as you turned around to glare at him, still manspreading on the sofa as he took a deep breath.
“Yes, now get up and dance with me,” you whined as you reached out for his hand and tugged on it, the man feigning reluctance as he stood way too easily for someone who was actually disinclined to do another number.
And when he realized the dance you selected was Havana, he let out a cute “oooh,” in anticipation.
Starting the dance, you both stayed focused on the screen, not giving each other much acknowledgment as your playful competition commenced. However, when you got to the pre-chorus, Yoongi began singing along with the “Ooh’s” in the song, and you couldn’t help but sneak a glance, catching him amid a sexy little hip move as he smoothly moved his arms.
“Oh my god,” you squealed, “show me what those hips can do,” you teased, Yoongi smiling with a scoff, though he stayed focused on the dance.
Giggling to yourself, you tried to turn your attention back to the screen but Yoongi was proving to be quite the distraction as he wiggled his hips both adorably and seductively and sang along to the chorus.
“What the fuck, why are you so good at this?” You giggled, Yoongi chuckling as he looked toward you for a brief moment.
“Am I taking this too serious?” He pondered with a gummy grin as you tossed your head back in laughter.
“No, I’m just impressed,” you clarified as you continued to carelessly go through the moves, most of your attention on your boyfriend.
“Yeah?” He asked excitedly, his eyebrows raising. “You like this?” He teased alluringly.
“I do actually,” you replied while biting your lip, turning toward him, casting the game aside. “You got a nice pair of hips on you, are they real?” You teased, Yoongi snorting in response.
“Are they real?” He repeated your question in slight confusion.
“You didn’t sneak around and get a hip replacement, did you, Grampa?” You joked slyly, the man instantly sighing before his shoulders began to shake as he laughed in defeat. “No but really, you’ve been holding out on me, Min,” you teased. It took Yoongi another moment before he realized you were no longer dancing, the man looking to you with a quick turn of his head, shooting you a wide-eyed look.
“What?” He asked, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Wait, really? That did something for you?” He asked in shock, you holding back a laugh at his reaction. “Shit, come here,” he grinned, stepping toward you as his hands found the sides of your face, pulling you into a kiss.
Giggling against his lips, he smiled into the kiss as he led you to the sofa, Havana still playing in the background though neither of you paid it any attention. When your legs hit the couch, you sat back against the cushions, Yoongi hovering over you as he chased your lips.
Shoving against his chest, you directed him to take a seat before you quickly swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. He smirked up at you as his hands rested on your upper thighs as you leaned toward him, catching his lips in a heated kiss. Your hands were positioned on his shoulders, sliding up his neck when the song finally ended, Yoongi breaking the kiss to look around your frame quickly.
“Wait,” he smiled, giggling slightly. “Did that actually do something for you or were you just distracting me from destroying you in that round?” He asked, you looking behind you to see your one star compared to his three.
Looking back to him, you smirked. “Mhmm,” you nodded, refusing to give him a clear answer before attaching your lips to his once again, Yoongi chuckling into the meeting.
“Such a brat,” he whispered against your lips just before deepening the kiss. When his hands squeezed your thighs, sending butterflies throughout your body, neither of you no longer cared how you ended up in your current position, you on his lap as your lips trailed to his neck.
As much fun as Just Dance was for a Friday night activity, the current one was just a bit more exciting. It was time for Yoongi to show you exactly what those hips could do.
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clefairymuke · 3 years
Text
regrets | chapter sixteen
prev. chapter | next chapter
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut
tw: violence / explicit sexual content
word count: 1912
"You act like a child."
Levi's voice, though calm, rang a striking forte in the hushed atmosphere of his office. You were used to him raising his voice at you, of course, but this felt different. His repertoire of angry lectures with you were previously livened with notes of discipline and superiority; his tone, now, could only be described as personal.
Your blood ran cold as if the ice dripping from his voice had infected your veins. This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself, trying to make sense somewhere in the emotions of the man in front of you. "I act like a child?" you scoffed in an attempt to save face. You were unsure of what audience you were putting on for -- he saw right through you, and you knew it. You remembered your gleeful grin as you changed clothes before coming, how you practically celebrated with Jean when Levi was out of earshot. It was childish, but you were comfortable with that. It felt justified.
The scene in front of you was less than romantic: Levi stood to face you in front of his desk, his eyes narrowed to a glare. His face was less void of feeling than it typically was; his lips were drawn into a scowl and his brows dipped towards the corners of his slate eyes. There was no tea set, no papers strewn about, and no thing out of place. It was simply you, a spotless room, and an insufferably furious man a couple of yards away.
Your hands were balled into fists at your sides. You were angry in part because he had you figured out -- his first words to you upon your arrival were accusatory. He knew just as well as you did that you and Jean were playing a silly game. You both knew it was designed to get under his skin. This didn't make him any less pissed off, of course, and likely only fueled his fire further.
"Yes, you do," he asserted. His glare was unending and unforgiving, boring into you like knives as you put forth your best effort not to cower. "Children play fucking pretend."
"What makes you think it was pretend?" you questioned him, insulted by his critique of your acting skills. For the pain it required, you thought, you deserved a bit of recognition.
"Are you insinuating that you're actually in some kind of relationship with Kirstein?" he inquired, knuckles growing white as he dug his nails into his palms.
You considered your answer carefully -- admitting guilt too early may not lead to the most peaceful conversation; on the other hand, neither would keeping the lie going. Avoiding the question altogether seemed to be the most logical choice. "What does it matter to you anyway?" you asked him, trying to deflect. Regardless of your intentions, you were curious to hear his answer. If he truly didn't care about you as you did about him, he would have no opinion about what you did and didn't do with Jean -- or any other guy, for that matter.
"You know exactly why it matters to me," he hissed, his glare breaking momentarily to show the most minuscule bit of softness. It took no time to return to his hard, unforgiving stare.
You groaned, close to losing your cool. "I actually have no fucking clue why it would matter to you, Levi. I don't understand anything about how you feel," you told him, honestly yet harshly. Your breathing began to balloon your chest as you drew short, shallow breaths; the physical reaction behind your fury was conspicuous and annoying. "You haven't spoken to me outside of scolding since I was in the infirmary; even the last few days there, you gave me the cold shoulder without any explanation. How the hell am I supposed to know how you feel?"
You watched him sigh, removing his nails from his palms so that he could rest his face in his hands, his eyes hiding behind his fingers as considered your words. "You aren't --" he started, breaking off midway. There was a strange tone to his voice now, more understanding, more sad, yet still angry. It was like satin laid over barbed wire. "You aren't even supposed to be considering how I feel. You can't think of me that way."
Fury bellowed within you like a match on the floor of a rickety wooden house; it overtook you as the fire would, enveloping you completely and without remorse. Your mind raced with disbelief  -- how were you to keep from thinking of him that way? He opened that door wide with his stupid, comforting teatime chats and tiny smiles, with tender touches and lingering caresses long past the hours that would be considered appropriate for him to be alone with you.
It took longer than you would have liked for the words to travel from your brain to your tongue. Now you were the one raising your voice. "You made me think of you that way! You're fucking impossible, Levi, do you know that? How can you pretend that there's nothing between you and me?"
"Because there is nothing between you and me. You have a stupid schoolgirl crush, and I'm trying to get these dumbass ideas out of your head," he argued, face twisting yet again. His words pressed tight against your heart, pain oozing through the rigid wall your anger had built by hand. Still, you refused to let it fall.
"Then why do you care so much about me putting on a show for you with Jean today? Why was it so important that I had to be called to your office like you're going to make me clean the dorms over it? Your words don't align one bit with your actions, but I'm the crazy one." Your hands shook at your sides as you yelled at him; you didn't care if Erwin, Hange, or every scout you knew heard you. You were sick of the embarrassment he brought you. For every second you've been happy with him, there was an equal and opposite force of mortification. You would yell at him until your voice couldn't handle it any longer -- anything to get your point across.
Seeing Levi so full of emotion was rare. If you weren't so overtaken by rage you might have saved a moment to appreciate it. His typical straight-set lips hung open as you watched all the  things he wanted to say pass over his tongue. His eyes were dancing with anger, sadness, passion, yearning, annoyance, confusion -- all at once, one after the other like a montage of color. Your anger blinded you. You had a million and one harsh replies to a million harsh things you thought he could say, but you had no answer to what finally came out of his mouth when all of the emotion in his eyes settled within him.
"I knew you were doing it to bother me," he began, his tone gentler than it was before. "And the worst part was that it did. I couldn't stand to see someone touch you that way, even if it was all for show."
You hadn't expected that. The anger in you hadn't died, but the breath you took after hearing that was the most satisfying one you'd ever had, as if you were in atop a mountain breathing the cool oxygen for the first time. You studied him closely, meeting his soft eyes with the most understanding gaze you could muster. "Why couldn't you stand it?" you coaxed him, waiting to hear the words.
He let go an irritated sigh. "God damn it," he grumbled. He took a long step toward you, leaving only a few feet of distance now. "I --" he shook his head, "I can't do this with you."
You rolled your eyes with ever ounce of energy in your body. He came even closer, but you weren't paying attention. "Of course you can't. You get so close to finally just admitting the truth, and then you hide from it because it's impossible to admit that you have feelings for me." You were yelling again, despite how he was closing in on you. You hoped you were giving him a headache as he inched closer.
"It's inappropriate for you to even think that that's a possibility," he shouted back.
As he stood only a foot away and your words exchanged grew ever louder, you wondered where the crescendo would end. One of you would have to quiet down eventually -- and you would be damned before backing down. "I don't know why you think I give a shit about what's appropriate, Levi!"
"I know you don't give a shit. It's pretty fucking obvious."
"Then why are we even talking about this? Why didn't you just keep ignoring me?"
"Because I couldn't. I--" he broke off again, his eyes darting around to read your face. "I just -- You know what? Fuck it." Before you could process it, he took another step forward. His hand launched to the back of your head, the feeling of his fingertips somehow still gentle despite his rough movements as he pulled you towards him.
His lips crashed onto yours with a reckless abandon.
Your hands came to his chest to push him away, but once realization set in, you left them to rest there. His fingers began to tangle themselves in your hair as his inhibitions disappeared, every muscle losing its tension and every thought fading to static. What he lacked in the argument became clear in how he enveloped you; the screaming match seemed to continue into the way your lips battled, still ever-building.
Your hands left his chest to loop round his neck, one of them wandering off to grip his hair similar to the hold he had on you. His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him, every curve in your body neutralized by a curve in his until it was difficult to tell where you ended and he began.
The time-slowing force that visited with absolute ecstasy had paid you mind, permitting you to relish in every movement. The kiss was deepening and deepening and deepening, leaving you to wonder what was left to explore, and yet still keeping you captivated with every second. In this moment, every doubt or worry was solved, and you would be content to never experience anything else; to stay clutched tightly in Levi's arms seemed like a well-enough fate to spend all of eternity. Despite your pleas to whatever controlled the universe to leave you just where you were forever, it had to end. The sight you saw when he pulled away was almost as satisfying as the kiss itself: Levi, eyes wide and almost frenzied, lips red and the tiniest bit swollen. When he pulled away, he did nothing to alter the position of your bodies, still pressed as tightly together as humanly possible, unsure of how to separate and not wanting to find out, either. He gazed into your eyes for only a second, light pants filling the space between you as you searched each other's faces for answers to questions you were unsure of. You brought your hand from the back of his head to rest on his cheek, tilting your head just slightly as if to get a better look.
Without exchanging words, the two of you had finally come to an agreement. You closed your eyes as his lips attacked yours once again.
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