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tainted-wine · 4 years

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Caring For Your Hormonally-Charged Bird

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(I didn’t mean for this to turn into a monster with over 7k words, but I finally finished it. This is based off of my mutant headcanons and also takes some inspiration from user kazooli’s awesome thirst posts about Hawks. Happy Springtime, everyone!)

Edit: Now there’s a Part 2!

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The songs of lovestruck birds rang across the streets. Freshly bloomed cherry blossoms rained petals down onto the pavement. Butterflies and bees hovered around the flourishing flowers. It was undoubtedly a beautiful day. Too bad you had to spend it in an office with an oncoming headache. A familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Wow, look at that. I don’t know what’s more gorgeous; the scenery outside or the lady staring at it.”

Hawks’s charm doesn’t affect you when he has pissed you off so many times in such a short span.

You’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working for the Hero Public Safety Commission for several years, from supporting public events to endless desk work. The pay was generous and life was overall more comfortable. All you had to do to stay on their good side was comply with every demand, ignore the condescending tones of the bigwigs, and turn a blind eye whenever you witnessed the occasional sketchy practice.

When they offered you a job as the personal handler of one of the top heroes of Japan, you almost fainted. You have always been a fan of Hawks. Fast, handsome, charismatic, he may not have the godly strength of All Might, yet he still felt just as flawless. You’ve been helping and guiding the winged young man since last summer and learned that he’s even more than what you imagined. He wasn’t just good-looking, he wasn’t just a sweet-talker…

He was also a fucking nightmare to work with.

You turned around to see said man ogling you a bit more than you were used to, his trademark crooked smile on his face, but you ignored that and went straight to business. “Your carelessness is trending again for the third time this week, Hawks.”

He drew a sharp breath in an exaggerated gasp. “Again? Oh, what could they possibly be on my ass for this time? Was I smacking on chicken wings too loudly in public? Did they catch the moment I almost flew into that crystal-clear window?”

You whipped out your phone, already prepared to show him a news page with a rather shocking photo. A man with an elegant and sleek appearance was beaten and bruised, his dazzling peacock tail fanned out behind him. The attacker was none other than Hawks, who was gripping the other man by the collar, his wings fully spread out with several sharpened feathers floating around his victim as an unnecessary precaution. It was a very aggressive display.

‘HAWKS LAYS SMACKDOWN ON PERVERTED PEACOCK’ was the headline.

“This is beyond excessive force. You could have just as easily restrained him with your quirk.” You scolded, fixing him with the steely authoritarian stare that you’ve been working on.

Hawks flinched, but you couldn’t tell if he was just playing with you or not. “Ma’am! I was simply defending the girl’s honor! She was very clearly uncomfortable and besides, wouldn’t flashing his tail like that be considered indecent exposure?” Yeah, that tone told you that he was clearly not intimidated.

“No, and even if it did, indecency and harassment wouldn’t excuse such a violent subduing. Furthermore,” you gestured at his threatening wing display in the photo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were demonstrating similar behavior.”

He simply shrugged. “Just showing him who the bigger bird is around here.”

Your eye twitched. “For God’s sake, Hawks, you’re not an animal. Part of my job is ensuring that you maintain a friendly image that will keep the public at ease. This is not friendly. Shall I go through some of the comments for examples?” You scrolled down and cleared your throat in preparation. “Anyone else put off by how violent Hawks looks here? I didn’t know he had it in him to beat someone down like that. He’s usually all about being quick and efficient.” You scrolled down to the next one. “What’s the deal with Hawks? I was there and it was like watching a cockfight.” You clicked on a reply to that particular comment. “I know, right? I always wanted to meet Hawks in person, but after that, I was honestly too scared to-”

“Hold on, babe, I know you’re cherry-picking here,” Hawks, the little bastard, had taken out his own phone while listening to your reading. “Because those are nothing like my personal faves that I found on my Tweeter page.” You watched with silent frustration as his eyes scanned his phone until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here we go. ‘Oh my GAWD, that look, those spread wings, he looks like such a beast!” He had raised the pitch of his voice for a mock feminine tone. “Leave it to Hawks to make all of us women feel safe. That pervert deserves to lose a few more teeth.’ Oh, and here’s the winner right here. ‘Just as I always expected, that hunk of a bird knows how to dominate. I can just imagine him towering over me, giving that same look while I take his big fat-”

“Hawks.”

He paused, but his shit-eating grin didn’t fade when he noticed your head being held in one of your hands. You hoped he didn’t notice that you were trying to hide the red that crept into your cheeks.

“…cock.”

You groaned loudly enough to most definitely be heard outside of the office. There truly were days when he would cut you some slack and be easy to deal with, but he has become downright unbearable for the past few weeks. His teasing has increased ten fold, yet he’s also been keeping his distance from you for whatever reason. It had taken you a while to notice, but he was normally more than happy to get in your face and ruin your professional act, but now, even when you’re the one trying to approach, he would casually step back to prevent the gap between you from closing.

And then it hit you.

Shit, it shouldn’t have taken you this long to connect the dots. You had even noticed how his wings appeared to be a shade brighter for the past few days, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. No, he had grown in his spring plumage.

“Uh, babe? You still there? Did the ‘C’ word break you?” Watching you stare into space was getting him a little concerned.

“You’re rutting,” was your simple reply.

Hawks’s face flashed into something more serious for a split second before giving a ‘tsk’ and looking away. “Took you long enough,” he scoffed. “Surprised the Commission hasn’t fired you for letting me go wild for so long. They must not have any replacements available right now.”

“Watch it,” you ordered. You pondered for a moment before asking, “Have you not been taking your hormonal medication? I know that you’ve been prescribed some for this time of year.”

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, as if he was the one who should be feeling annoyed right now. Bitch, please. “Sometimes,” he muttered.

“Sometimes? They don’t work if you only take them sometimes, Hawks. I know you’re a busy hero, but you can put some effort into keeping track of your dosage.”

“Look,” it was the first time you’ve seen a genuine scowl on his face, the expression taking you back. “I just really hate that stuff, okay? They sap all of my energy and I put on a few extra pounds.”

You shook your head at his complaints. “Is that really worse than what you’re dealing with right now?”

“Yes. I’d rather be a horndog than a slug that doesn’t even have the will to move. It wouldn’t even be so bad if I could just sleep around every now and then, but that’s more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t wanna make your job that miserable.” He eyed you up and down for a minute, while you tried not to shy away from his piercing gaze. “Or I could find just one loyal partner that will help me scratch the itch?”

You stepped back, your heart racing at the unspoken request. “E-excuse me?” you stuttered.

Hawks raised his hands harmlessly. “Hey now, it’s just a suggestion. I’m pretty into you, you’re obviously into me, this could work out pretty well.”

An array of emotions were flowing through you, but you were more upset than anything else. “And what exactly makes you think I’ve been ‘into you’, as you’ve said?” Denial. You’re pretty sure that’s what this is. You know that you’ve been attracted to him since before you even met, but you weren’t going to let this overgrown brat have his way.

His sudden burst of laughter startled you. “You’re kidding, right? I still remember that look you had the first time we were in this room together, and it wasn’t the innocent ‘I wanna support my favorite hero’ look,” He was willingly approaching you for the first time in what felt like forever, every step sounding like thunder to your ears. “It was a ‘bend me over the desk and fuck me’ look.”

You were the one stepping back this time. You wanted to remind him not to use such foul language, to berate him for making such vulgar claims, but your voice was caught in your throat.

“We’d be doing each other a favor, right?” he continued, wings slowly expanding. “Keeping me in top shape is part of your job, isn’t it? I promise you that I’m gonna feel a lot better after this.”

You bumped into his desk, leaning back slightly as he finally closed the distance. His wings draped around each side of you, filling your peripheral vision with pure red. His face was only inches away from yours as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve been smelling so damn good lately. Been afraid that I just might pounce you if I get too close.”

A thickly gloved hand reached out and cupped your face with such a surprising amount of tenderness, you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel bare. You were so entranced by his lustful gaze that you couldn’t find it in you to resist as he leaned in, feeling his hot breath as his lips drew closer to yours.

The door busted open accompanied by a shout. “Hawks sir! Your help has been requested at-OH!”

A genuine growl rumbles through Hawks’s throat and damn, that makes you tremble. By the time he turns toward the stumbling sidekick, he was already back to his cool and friendly self.

“Don’t stop on my account, buddy,” he beamed the younger man with an unwavering smile. “What’s the request?”

———

The next day, you tried very hard to pretend that little office incident never happened. You were not going to let something so unprofessional ever happen again. That was a promise.

Hawks, on the other hand, was being a persistent bastard. You were determined to win this battle. If he wanted the urges to go away so badly, then he can take his damn medication like he always has, not use your lack of authority and experience as an excuse to rebel. The only reason you haven’t informed the Commission about this is because you know that your head will be on the chopping block as well as Hawks’s. You will most definitely be in some shit once they realize that you can’t keep their most prized possession in check.

And to be fair, as the week went on, you really were wondering if you were cut out for this job. With his wings getting more vibrant, his advances becoming more frequent, and his feral rivalry against other men growing more severe, Hawks has officially become too unruly for you to handle, and you’re the goddamned handler. You couldn’t lose this job! What if they terminated you completely and you couldn’t get another position from the Commission?

You paced back and forth in the empty office. Hawks was late this morning, leaving you alone with your endless worries. He may act lazy, but he was never actually late for his meet ups. Looks like you’ll have to call him and pray that nothing serious has happened.

You jumped when your phone vibrated before you even reached into your pocket. Ah, looks like Hawks reached out before you did. You held your phone up, prepared to answer, and froze.

It wasn’t Hawks. It was the deputy, the very man that was kind enough to give you this job. He hasn’t called you since your first few days here to help get you started. With your progress, you doubt he was calling to give you a raise.

Well, as much as you wanted to throw the phone out of the window and find an appropriate place to bury yourself, you didn’t make it this far by cowering from these guys. Taking a deep breath, you picked up and greeted the man on the other side with a steady voice. “Good morning, Deputy.”

He addressed you with the same bored and unimpressed tone that you hear from every member in this cursed organization. Jeez, if you keep working here long enough, are you going to eventually sound as soulless as them? “I assume you are aware of Hawks’s current condition?” he asked.

Dammit. “My apologies, sir. I know that I have been neglectful of Hawks’s health and his behavior during this time. I have been doing my best t-”

“That isn’t the issue I am talking about, but thank you for confirming that you have indeed failed in keeping Hawks’s unsavory habits under control.” You flinched. Way to rat yourself out. “Hawks had managed to find and subdue the troublesome villain Libido.”

“Ah, of course. I have been informed of that, sir.” Libido was a cunning little criminal that has been causing trouble all over the city of Fukuoka. His ‘Love Breath’ quirk gave him the ability to exhale fumes with powerful aphrodisiacal qualities. The guy even made his own gas bombs, releasing them among unsuspecting crowds in the public. He was less of a villain and more of just a chaos-loving hoodlum that was too slippery for his own good.

The deputy carried on. “One of the sidekicks has told us that Hawks was exposed to his quirk.”

Oh. Oh dear. That’s some strong stuff to be subjected to.

“We have ordered Hawks to go home immediately and wait patiently instead of heading to a hospital. We will be sending treatment his way.”

Some of the tension left your body. “That’s good to know, sir. May I ask what kind of treatment he will be taking? I know I haven’t convinced you yet, but I want to do anything I can for his well being.” You hesitantly asked. Please, oh please let me make up for everything that has been happening.

You heard a faint chuckle from the other end. “That’s very good to know, because the treatment is you.”

You’re glad he couldn’t see the confusion on your face. “I’m sorry, sir. Are you saying I’ll be the one to doctor him? I’ll need to know what medicine he needs and how much rest he’ll be expected to-”

“Do you know how people affected by aphrodisiac quirks are normally treated?” he interrupted you for the second time. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before continuing. “Given your questions, I’m assuming that you don’t. We can indeed offer drugs to weaken the effects, but Hawks will still be in great distress and will take a long time to recover, especially since he’s neglected to take his hormone medication with the help of an incompetent handler.” Ugh, you get it already. You screwed up. “But the quickest and most efficient remedy is, without a doubt, sexual contact and allowing the quirk to run its course. That is what we expect you to provide for him.”

What.

You took a full minute to collect your thoughts and ensure that you heard everything correctly. The deputy waited patiently. How kind of him. Once you gathered yourself, you conjured the most constructive response you could think of.

“Huh?”

An overly loud sigh sounded in your ear. Hey, it’s his fault for dropping this bomb of a request on you. “We can’t have the number two hero out of action for too long. The alternative is to strap him to a bed and sedate him for an uncertain amount of time. His rut has enhanced the quirk’s effects; this may even strengthen his arousal for the rest of the season.”

Your face paled. That sounds ten times worse than the way Hawks was already acting. “So, if I were to…be with him,” you blushed at the very thought. “That would provide the best relief?”

“That is the gist of it. You told me you would do anything for Hawks’s well being. Can I hold you to that?”

Your pounding heart was almost drowning out his voice. You didn’t mean to corner yourself like this. “O-of course. I’ll see what I can, um, do.” This discussion was getting uncomfortable.

“I didn’t expect you to be so hesitant. You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.” He laughed at his own joke. You sure as hell weren’t laughing with him.

“Yeah, of course, sir,” you grumbled. “I suppose I shouldn’t leave Hawks alone for too long. I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You’ll need to take some precautions, of course. Here’s what you need to keep in mind…”

———

You walked out of the local pharmacy, cradling the pills tightly to your chest like some sort of security blanket. The deputy’s advice echoed in your head.

“It’s best that you take contraceptives. Hawks’s mind will be clouded with feral cravings, such as the urge to breed. He is not going to accept condoms.”

You tossed the pills onto the passenger seat in your car.

“Again, Hawks is suffering from both the magnified effects of Libido’s quirk and his annual rut. It’s possible that he will not be of sound mind. If things get out of hand, you have the right to protect yourself.” the deputy paused for a moment. “Just try not to leave any marks on him, if you can. Hawks must look presentable at all times.”

Well, you did have a stun gun that you thankfully never had to use, and hopefully it will stay that way.

The deputy’s help made you way more anxious than before. Were you about to have sex with a horny man, or tame a dangerous beast? You still didn’t know what to make of this predicament.

You take your phone and select Hawks’s number. It’s probably best not to surprise him at his door. Hopefully he wasn’t too riled up and ignores your call.

The phone rings once, then twice, then you hear…whimpers? Shit, was it getting that bad?

“Hawks? Are you there?” you asked calmly.

“Babe.” Goodness, his voice was rough. He sounds like he just ran across the country. “Oh thank God. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

“Wha—no.” This was a mistake. You really weren’t prepared for such levels of horniness. He just blurted that out like it was nothing! “Look, um, I heard your urges are becoming too much to handle. I’m heading on over there to…help you.”

For a while you just heard what sounded like breathless laughs and weeping. Hearing him in such a fragile state had you genuinely concerned. “Y’serious? We’re-ah-we’re gonna fuck?” He was panting heavily between words.

Heat was gathering in your face. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Get over here-fuck-so I can stuff you, babe. You’re gonna be mine. Oh I can’t wait to fucking have you.” This sounded like a goddamned porno and you couldn’t handle it. There was a strange sound in the background as he rambled, something like wet smacks. You kept hearing it in sync with his grunts and…

Oh.

“Just hang in there, alright?” You said quickly, wanting to end this call right now. “I’m coming.”

“Well, I’m not. My hand’s really not doin’ it for me. Gotta be inside you, babe. Gotta cum in that tight-“

You hung up.

You banged your head against the steering wheel harder than intended, but at least the pain got your mind off of…whatever all of that was. You can’t believe you just heard your favorite hero breathlessly talking about how he wants to bang you while jerking off. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this mortified, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the tingle between your legs.

Hawks, one of the top heroes of Japan, the heartthrob of the generation, was lusting for you. It had you both excited and on edge. You remember the deputy’s comment.

“You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.”

You probably would indeed be thrilled if the circumstances were less dire. Your fantasies normally involved something simpler and more romantic, not saving him from his own sex-hazed mind. You still weren’t sure what you were walking into, and that was admittedly a different kind of excitement.

There was no time to waste with the state Hawks was in. Calming your nerves, you started your car and began taking the route to his place.

———

Here you are, at the doorstep of Hawks’s house. His place was surprisingly humble for a top hero, it made this encounter just a little less nerve-wracking. Pressing a finger to the buzzer, you waited anxiously, rocking back and forth on your heels. You really hope he’ll be dressed decently when he answers the door.

Your heart skips once you hear a click and the doorknob twists. It feels like it takes an eternity for the door to open and reveal…nobody.

Instead, you were greeted by a small flock of feathers suspended in the air. They slowly floated a distance away from you before stopping, as if they were waiting for something. You cautiously stepped inside, some of the feathers closing the door behind you. You don’t know what type of welcome you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The feathers guided you, drifting up a flight of stairs and into a room with its door hanging open. You can hear harsh breathing inside, reigniting your fear. “Hawks?” You hesistantly called out without getting any closer.

A cracking voice cried out your name. “Help me. It fucking hurts. I’m so hot. Make it stop.” He sounded like he was crying. The desperate pleas prompted you to mask your fears for the umpteenth time and approach the room, taking in the sight of the man that has been waiting for you.

Hawks was naked, not to your surprise, but still to your absolute horror. He sat on his bed, skin glistening with sweat and a deep blush spreading throughout his upper body, making him look more feverish than aroused. His chest heaved with the irregular breaths that left his hanging mouth. His hair was even more unruly as usual, some of his locks sticking to his damp face. Your eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated and looking right through you.

He looked awful.

You came closer, trying your best not to stare at the very swollen and throbbing member between his legs. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, stopping right in front of him. “I didn’t think it would get this bad. I-I want to help. Just tell me what to do.”

He was on his feet the moment you finished, nude body just inches away from yours, but you kept your feet planted where they were. As his large wings slowly opened and enclosed around you, you noticed how brilliantly hued his feathers have become, practically glowing a vivid scarlet. It was captivating.

Two clammy hands came up to hold your face, the same hands he was furiously pleasuring himself with just a moment ago holy shit, and his mouth was on yours before you could even react. You gasped in shock of it all, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. It was less of a kiss and more of just him hungrily ravaging every inch of your mouth, your own tongue wrestling with his to keep him away from the back of your throat. One of his arms lowered to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against his bare form, making you yelp when you felt his erection pressing against you. Hawks’s dick was on you.

You were too overwhelmed by his restless mouth and his DICK to notice the stray feathers hovering over you. A tug and a loud rip made you jolt. Hawks held you still, the sound of expensive fabric tearing making you flinch as your skin was slowly being exposed. The feathers were shredding your clothes.

You pulled away from his suffocating mouth just enough to take a breath and attempt to speak. “Hawks! Wha—” only for him to smother you once again.

“Don’t move,” he uttered between kisses. “Don’t want to cut you.”

With a few more slashes, your cherished suit was now scattered on the carpet in tatters, revealing your body to him, but the feathers weren’t done. The floating blades carefully slid under your panties and bra. You stood completely still, Hawks kissing you with less aggression in an attempt to soothe you as the feathers sliced through the last of your clothes. You were now just as bare as him. He simply held you tightly, face rubbing against yours with the occasional lick against your heated skin. Your eyes were closed shut, unable to process his frantic tongue, his surrounding body that felt like fire, his cock that was now pressed to your stomach you were going to drop dead holy shit.

“Smell so good. Tastes so good.” he groaned, still sounding short of breath. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking at it hungrily and giving the occasional nip, forcing a faint moan out of you. He continued his descent and reached your breasts, molding them roughly and attacking your nipples with hard sucks. Despite the rough treatment, a tight heat was building up in your abdomen, your hands cradling his head as he explored you. He ventured lower, now on his knees with his face right at your womanly mound.

Your heart was pounding when he leaned in, his nose lightly touching you as he drew in a long breath and giving a pleased sighed. His nose pressed in further and poked at your glistening pussy, your thighs clenching in surprise while he happily took in your scent. Fuck, he was really just kneeling between your legs and smelling you. You were ready to protest and tell him that this was getting too embarrassing before something wet and hot slid against your folds, replacing your planned words with a yelp.

Hawks apparently approved of your taste, strong hands grasping the back of your thighs as he brought you in closer to fully devour you. Your cries were impossible to hold in while he lapped at you, mind becoming too clouded with pleasure to stay modest. He moaned loudly into you, the erotic sound vibrating against you, tongue fondling every inch of your folds before his lips closed around them, sucking greedily and almost making your knees collapse. You were getting close, grasping onto his head in a desperate attempt to stay balanced, his mouth now assaulting your sensitive bud. Your blissful whimpers joined the filthy sounds of his feasting when your orgasm washed over you like throbbing magma. Once your legs lost the last of their strength, Hawks set you down gently on the floor, still licking your sensitive lips.

“Ah, Hawks…too much…” You whined weakly.

He got the message and pulled away to immediately climb over you, giving you a clear view of his face glistening with your juices. Bright wings were fully spread out once more; it feels like you were about to be taken by an angel, the most savage angel you could ever imagine.

He came down for a sloppy kiss, spreading your own womanly nectar all over your lips. “Hope you’re nice and ready now. Ready to take everything I’ve got.” He mumbled against your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and feel grateful that even in such a frenzied state, he was still kind enough not to jump you the moment you were within sight.

You brought a hand up to caress the side of his face, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch like the needy animal that he was at the moment. His body was still unnaturally hot and he was still breathing harshly. It’s time to finally give this poor man some relief.

“Go ahead, Hawks. I’m all yours.” You were indeed ready for everything he has.

Hawks said no more, gripping himself and aiming right for your opening. The moment his head was pushing past your lips, he thrust forward, filling you completely and knocking the wind out of you.

You honestly thought he came right then and there with the totally profane howl that left him. “Fuck…!” he choked, looking on the verge of tears. Despite the seemingly paralyzing pleasure, he wasted no time in moving, his pace quickening at an alarming rate. Your pussy was still sensitive from his wonderful licking, his dick currently sending painfully powerful shocks that you just weren’t ready for, and yet heat began to pool within your core for a second time. Your arms were wrapped around his sweaty form, nails biting into his skin and forcing rugged grunts out of his throat.

The wet slaps of your bodies rang throughout the room, your limbs quivering as he pumped into you faster, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, full and prepared to pour every drop of its contents into your womb. Hawks had buried his head into the crook of your neck, letting you feel every breathless moan right against your ear.

All you could do was hold on and take the increasingly rough pounding. His rhythm was sloppy from the start, but the thrusts were becoming even more irregular as a sign that he was already reaching his peak. Not surprising, given the state that he’s been in all day. One well-aimed thrust hits your sweet spot, making you moan loudly against him.

The sound eggs him on, driving his hips at a bruising pace and fuck it feels so good it hurts. Your eyes shut tightly as another orgasm breaks free, your feminine walls clamping around Hawks, squeezing his own climax out of him. You gasped at the powerful throbs of his cock as it shot out stream after stream of cum inside you. The purely animalistic growl that rumbled through him had you shaking in the best way while you watched his wings twitch and flap, hitting you with a light gust.

After an impressive amount of spurts, Hawks collapsed on top of you. He was heavy, but having his weight on you like this was pretty nice. You rubbed soothing circles around his back, listening to the rather inhuman cooing sounds he made in response.

You just had sex with Hawks, your favorite hero and the very man you were paid to look after. Oh man, how badly have you screwed up your relationship? Not that you two had much of a bond in the first place, but now things will most certainly get even more awkward.

A twitch inside you interrupted your thoughts. What the hell? Hawks’s breathing was accelerating again as he suddenly lifted his weight off of you, and that’s when you realized even though he came, he was still hard.

With newfound energy, he pushed your thighs towards your chest and rammed into you before you could even register what was happening. His new angle had you seeing stars with each thrust, hitting you even deeper than before. The sensation was dizzying, your overstimulated body beginning to throb all over. Hawks had the most obscene expression on his face, glazed eyes watching your tits bounce while his mouth hung open, drool trailing down his chin. You didn’t know such a look existed outside of adult videos, and having it aimed at you was enhancing your stinging pleasure.

Looking down granted you the view of his drenched dick pushing into you, each slam of his hips rocking you into the carpet, which honestly burned like ouch. Thankfully Hawks was reaching his tipping point once again, his hips moving at a bruising pace before one final smack. You were spoiled with another wonderful image of his head thrown back as a choked moan escaped him, another round of cum shooting into you.

He finally slid out of you as he sat back to catch his breath, wings limply dropping to his sides. Finally. You didn’t know how much more your womanhood could take. The strain of moving your legs made you wince. Did he have to pin you so roughly?

Hawks watched silently as you pushed yourself up. You felt behind your back and…dammit, you really did bruise back there. Maybe you should go find a mirror; hopefully it didn’t look too bad. You noticed that Mr. Horny Wings continued to just stare, pupils still enlarged and his dick was still hard what the fuck. He suddenly shifted onto all fours and crawled behind you. The light brush of fingers over your blemished skin made you shiver. They weren’t big enough to be that painful, but you still hissed when he applied a little too much pressure, making him pull away.

“Sorry.” His voice was still raspy as he apologized.

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Could’ve been wor—AH!”

Hawks shoved you forward, manhandling you until you were properly on your hands and knees. Fuck, your entire lower body was starting to ache, and here he was, ready to go another round. The head of his still-swollen dick was already pressing at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pushed past your puffy lips and re-entered your heat. You bit your bottom lip and took the limitless strength in his hips, his balls sometimes smacking right into your clit and bringing you closer to your next climax.

His pace slowed down briefly in order to lower himself and suck at your bruises. “Nnngh, fuck, Hawks!” The combined pain and pleasure had your insides burning. He moaned and panted into your back, kissing up to your neck and sucking there as well. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, pressing your body against his in an intimate embrace as he plunged into you more deeply.

It was impossible to not moan after each stroke. His face rested on your shoulder, and you reached behind to bury a hand in his hair. Shit, this was all getting so intimate. He was holding you and was so close, you could feel the ripple of his muscles as he caressed every inch of your inner walls. Your third burst of pleasure had you quivering against him as he continued to chase his own orgasm, stars appearing in your vision with each thrust. Hawks sank his teeth into your neck before bottoming out and releasing more cum inside you.

Both of you were lost in your sensual spasms before you collapsed. Hawks didn’t lay on you completely this time, his sweat-soaked form crouched over you, close enough to still be inside of you…

And rock hard.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

You stayed as you were, your face down and your ass up, as you felt him humping away at you again. You could barely whimper as your tender pussy took another pounding. Christ, why wasn’t he getting tired? If the quirk was getting any closer to wearing off, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

It wasn’t long before he came again, grunting with each hard buck as he filled you with his apparently endless supply of cum. Was he done? Please be done. You turned your head just enough to check the state of his erection.

Nope.

Hawks had enough mercy to carry you to his much more comfortable bed before continuing. He took you again.

And again

And again.

You were positively ruined, no more strength left in your body as he repeatedly claimed you with fervor. Whenever it appeared you were getting uncomfortable in a certain position, he would simply switch things up before carrying on. Despite how utterly exhausted and raw you felt, your orgasms kept coming, every surge of pleasure clouding your mind more and more.

You had lost track of time. Was this his fifteenth go? seventeenth? Keeping count was becoming a drag. It didn’t help that Hawks was in too much of a trance to even speak, giving you nothing but moans and growls. At least he didn’t sound on the verge of tears anymore, so maybe he was making progress.

Another orgasm was approaching; could your tired body even handle it? You were laying on the edge of the bed as Hawks stood and fucked you. Even through all of the overwhelming passion, you never got tired of staring at his wings, the dazzling red never failing to mesmerize you. They fluttered rapidly as the tension in your core spilled over, your mouth opening in a silent scream and a blackness closing in on you with every blink.

Your body was finished.

———

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing you noticed when you woke up and made the mistake of stretching. Your arms and legs ached, a sharp pain shot through your back whenever you shifted, and between your legs…well, the throb down there didn’t at all feel pleasurable anymore.

Still, you fought the pain to sit up and examine yourself. Your nether regions were surprisingly clean, almost as if someone had already taken care of it. With all of the cum Hawks pumped into you, it should frankly be an awful mess down there.

Speaking of, where was the guy?

“Hey.”

Oh, there he was leaning in the door frame. He had obviously tidied up, no longer a flushed and sweaty wreck, and was now sporting a pair of loose pants and a tee. You had never seen him looking so casual. It was probably a privilege very few had, and knowing that ignited something in your chest.

He glanced around before looking back at you. “You alright?”

Realizing you were just gawking at him and haven’t said anything yet, you coughed to ensure your voice was still clear and functioning. “I’m fine.”

He snickered. It was a sound you were used to whenever he knew he had the upper-hand in some way, but something about it felt softer this time. “I just fucked you into high heaven for a whole day.” He could’ve acknowledged it in a less shameless manner, dammit. “I just wanna know if you’re alright. You look pretty stiff.”

A jolt shot through your lower back in perfect timing with his statement, making you flinch. “Yeah, I’m—I’m pretty sore. Very sore,” you admitted.

“Ah,” He stood up straight. “I’ll go get some, uh, pain relief. Be right back.” And with that, he was out of your sight.

You waited patiently for his return, actually observing his bedroom for the first time. It was surprisingly bare, the room of someone who didn’t spend much time at home. There was a window that you didn’t notice and holy shit he was right. It was nighttime; you spent the entire day in Hawks’s bedroom. The fangirl in you was squealing in delight. You told her to shut the hell up.

The man returned with a glass of water in one hand, a pill in the other, and a set of clothes draped across his arm. “Here,” he handed the water and medicine over before sitting beside you on the bed. You gulped down the capsule, sputtering a bit as the cold water flowed down your dry throat. “I’ve got some clothes that might fit you well enough. Sorry about your suit. I’ll give you some money for a new one.”

He’s never sounded so wooden before and you couldn’t stand it. You let out your best good-hearted laugh as you took the offered clothes. “Stop that, Hawks. You sound as bland as your bosses right now,” you joked.

He laughed along with you. “Heh, sorry babe. Just worried that I came on a little too strong at the beginning there.”

You simply hummed in response. His clothes were so warm and smelled like him. Despite being surrounded by his strong scent for hours, you still welcomed it.

“So…looks like you’re feeling better.” You took in his appearance again now that he was closer. There was still a tinge of red in his face, but he seemed overall back to his usual relaxed self.

“Oh yeah, much better. The feeling’s still there, honestly,” he saw your eyes widen and instantly blurted out, “Just barely! I can ignore it and think clearly just fine now.” A boyish smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’ve got a hero. You really saved me back there.”

A ridiculous snort left you after hearing such praise. “Is that all it takes to be the great Hawks’s hero? I’m flattered.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” He looked you square in the face, and you couldn’t look away from his sincere expression. “It’s never been that bad before. Not gonna lie, I’m embarrassed you saw me like that. That was worse than all of my teenage ruts combined. Damn villain’s quirk really messed me up, felt like I was going fucking rabid. I don’t know what state I’d be in if it weren’t for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to respond to his gratitude. “You’re welcome,” was all you could say. “You don’t need to feel bad about it. It’s…” You looked down at your feet. “It’s not like I didn’t like it. It was very draining, honestly lost track of time at a certain point, but it, uh, it was an experience.”

Hawks nodded in response. “Sure was. Never thought I’d rail a girl so hard and for so long that she’d pass out. I’m impressed with myself.”

“Hawks.”

He hung his head in mock shame. “My apologies, ma’am! I completely forgot that such vulgar language isn’t tolerated around you.” And there’s the infuriating grin that you were beginning to miss.

Both of you were laughing, slowly melting away the tension and stress that filled the room since morning. This…this was nice.

“So, you probably still don’t feel all that great, sooo…” Hawks rubbed at the back of his neck. “You wanna stay for dinner? Already ordered a chicken pizza with some wings.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows. “Taking me to dinner after the sex?”

“Hey now, you know me. ‘The hero who’s too fast for his own good.’ Sometimes I miss a step or two.” He winked before getting up to leave. “You just lay there and rest, and go pee already. Don’t need an infection on top of everything else you’re going through. I already cleaned up the horrifying scene between your legs.”

You shuddered at the crude comment before falling backwards onto the poor mattress that had endured so much today.

Tomorrow, it will be back to professionalism. Back to pretending that you’re Hawks’s superior. Back to sucking up to the Commission. You’re going to cherish every minute of tonight, enjoying the company of Keigo Takami, not Hawks.

A shout echoed from downstairs. “The bathroom’s still empty, babe! Get your ass in there and pee!”

#bnha #hawks #smut #hawks x reader #takami keigo #i applaud you if you read the whole thing #this fic had a mind of its own

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

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Title: nothing to mourn or miss Ship: Poker pair Summary: The only thing connecting little Cornelia Walker to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. A year after his Master's letter had been sent to the Black Order, Allen Walker arrived at their Headquarters, carrying a newborn on his back. AN: I just want trans Allen fanfics. Let’s see where this fanfic will go!

Lavi’s greatest gift had always been his observation skills. Growing up on the streets (in a different city, under another name), he’d had to be clever and aware to ensure he wouldn’t starve to death or be killed. Bookman, of course, had taken the ability to a whole new level, ensuring that Lavi wouldn’t miss even a single detail. Lavi was pretty sure that if there was a way to keep from blinking for the rest of his life, Bookman would force him to learn that as well.

Regardless, his skill was why he knew Krory had to be in the next train wagon. It was the last possible option, given that the vampiric Exorcist hadn’t been in any of the others. The situation, once they found him, was pretty easy to break down. He’d gotten cheated out of his clothes and money by three traveling vagabonds and a sickly-looking child; tuberculosis if Lavi were to guess. They looked rough as if the gentleness was seldom shown to them. From their hands and posture, Lavi deduced they worked in the mines or a similar taxing job.

That was as far as Lavi got with his observation before another one took him by surprise.

“Allen!” the boy shouted and promptly threw himself at said young man.

Here was the thing about Allen Walker: He was lithe in build, small, but he knew how to present himself. Lavi looked at him and knew what he kept hidden, yet it was not a lie because everything about Allen Walker screamed that he was a young man. He’d never said a word about whether he’d learned from his deceased father or his Master, but Allen knew how to navigate society, which social cues to react to or ignore.

Allen often kept people at a distance to keep up appearances and live his life as he wanted. Lavi, personally, was a massive fan of invading people’s personal space. He’d learned to do so early for various reasons, and with time passing, Allen started to allow Lavi in his bubble. But always, he was careful, hesitating, bracing himself for interaction.

And yet, somehow, this protection was disregarded without a second thought. Allen wasn’t taken aback by the boy jumping him but reacted on instinct and caught the boy. Were the child smaller, Lavi would think it was because of Cornelia, but no, the boy was much older than Allen’s daughter.

And here it was, the second clue:

“Eeez!” Allen said. “What are you doing here?”

“Traveling to a new job!” Eeez replied in rapid-fire Portuguese that, had Lavi not spent a year in the country, he wouldn’t have been able to understand a word. “You’re pretty far from your usual roads,” Allen replied only and set the boy down again. “But I see, your cheating habits haven’t changed at all.”

“You’ve always been the worst cheat,” the man towards the right replied, causing the one on the outmost left to laugh in agreement.

The two seemed good-natured if a little tired. They were comfortable around Allen, studied him briefly as if to check he was doing well, eating enough or so. Anyone who knew Allen well enough to greet him so heartedly had to be aware of his metabolism and with this group struggling for money, it was no surprise they worried about food.

But it wasn’t quite the two men or the boy that drew Lavi’s attention.

No, it was the man in the middle.

Thick glasses obscured his eyes, but his hair was curly and dark, the kind that Lavi knew from experience was fun to run your hand through.

How well exactly did Allen Walker know this man and how much did he care to keep such large secrets?

“Are you going to join us, menino?” the man asked. “Your friend has lost a few things, I believe.”

Allen grinned triumphantly, but his hand twitched all the same, betraying his lie. He was nervous, shaken by this confrontation, and were he anyone else, words about little princesses in high towers, bright gray eyes looking up from the Branch Chief’s lap, and bets on milestones would soon spill out of his mouth.

“Allen,” Krory finally spoke up, still sniffling. “Do you know these men?”

“Yes,” Allen replied, shaking himself from stupor. “We traveled together for a while after Master Cross had dumped me. They’re friends.”

Just friends? Lavi wondered. From the looks of it, he was not the only one. The boy, Eeze, narrowed his eyes, glancing between Tyki and Allen. Whatever they had, it hadn’t been that casual. The result was currently crawling around HQ, after all.

“This is Momo, Crack, and Glasses in the middle—”

“You wound me.”

“Is Tyki Mikk.”

Tyki was not a name whose origin Lavi could place easily. He’d assumed that Cornelia had been picked because it was a fairly common British name and sounded well with the small family’s last name.

Cornelia Walker wasn’t even a year old yet, and thus Lavi quietly found himself doing the math. Cross’s letter had announced only Allen’s arrival and been dated about a year before Allen had actually managed to arrive at the Order. He knew that Lenalee thought Allen had been sent to the Order because of Cornelia, so she’d be safe while Allen killed Akuma.

Never mind that nobody expected Cross to be a capable guardian for a newborn. People had been fascinated enough with the fact he’d managed to raise a teenager.

The only thing connecting little Cornelia to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. Otherwise, she was entirely Allen’s baby, from the pale complexion to the eyes and… Before meeting this Tyki, Lavi had assumed that she had Allen’s nose, but it actually resembled Tyki’s more closely. Still following through with his conclusions, Lavi pretended to be shocked at Allen’s gambling skills, the way he won back Krory’s clothes and dignity before stripping his old friends of theirs.

“Royal Straight Flush,” Allen announced once more with a smile as the others tossed their cards, not at all angry, more amused.

“They’re used to this,” Eeez said, this time in English. It was accentuated but still pretty good. Lavi could hear the same kind of pitter-patter pronunciation Allen sometimes fell back on when he was careless or exhausted. He must have taught the boy how to speak the language. How curious, it spoke for longer exposure to Allen. This definitely added to Lavi’s growing suspicion that Allen hadn’t just taken the long way round to the Order.

As did the fond glances Allen couldn’t keep off his face.

He could have stayed with this group. They were obviously aware of Allen’s status, but they seemed to have no trouble with it. Without needing to pay off his Master’s debt, Allen could earn enough to settle down somewhere. If they stayed near a mining town, the group wouldn’t even have to break up or work in a different branch.

There’d be no little niece for Komui to fuss over or dress up in her father’s absence. The Order would have remained entirely unaware of Allen Walker’s presence until someday along the way, somebody would dig out the one letter Cross had hurriedly written. And by then, they’d have assumed that Allen Walker had died on his way to the Order. Despite the tension of Allen’s shoulder, he was obviously at ease with this group, was at home, whereas he still hadn’t settled completely at the Order.

He could have abandoned the Akuma for them, this odd broken little family, but he hadn’t. The Destroyer of Time had marched on, wrapped his new gift up in cuddly blankets and climbed up a mountain.

Perhaps Lavi should tell him of the Order’s gruesome history, its horrible present. Would the boy have chosen to take his daughter there if he knew what lingered behind the black walls? Lavi had no doubt that if someone else sat in Komui’s office, little Cornelia would be tested weekly for resonance with an Innocence piece given that her father was an Accommodator. Then again, that doll that acted as her babysitter had taken a liking to her and Lavi doubted it was just because of the sentience it possessed.

The train ride passed in relative peace despite the gambling with the miners talking of their travels and Allen returning with stories of his own, carefully modified to leave out any signs of Akuma or his daughter.

He had no intention of telling them.

Lavi’s job was to record history, not to teach it.

He didn’t have to tell them either. Most likely, this encounter would remain a footnote in Allen Walker’s biography.

The odd group had to leave the train before them, and their goodbyes were sweet and kind, warmer and lingering, a farewell that nobody wanted. Eeez hugged Allen once more and Momo and Crack both gave Allen a nudge and tousled his hair fondly.

When it came to Tyki, Lavi paid attention. Accommodator yet or not, someday Cornelia’s history might become relevant, and they’d need all the details.

“Take good care of yourself, menino,” Tyki said, making no move to embrace Allen, touch him in any way. How curious that he’d chosen distance when he so obviously wanted to reach for the opposite. Lavi had seen a hundred stories like this already, how bitter love like this must be.

At moments like this, Lavi was glad that he was forever exempt from such heartbreak.

“I’m not the one always on the road, running off doing odd jobs,” Allen countered with a soft smile, a joke that failed to hide any of the pain. “Take care of yourself as well.”

The group left the train, and it was only as the machine was already departing that Tyki tossed something at Allen, the same playing cards they’d used earlier. Lavi watched quietly as Allen looked through the cards until melancholy turned his lips upwards.

“Hearts this time,” Allen muttered under his breath, likely not meant to be picked up by Lavi’s ears.

He packed the cards into the pocket of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his body as if to keep out the imaginary cold. When Allen looked up, his eyes fixed on Lavi, he seemed torn between determination and desperation.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Allen said, or perhaps ordered. “Please.”

So it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Lavi had uncovered his little secret.

Checking that Krory was still out of earshot, busy carrying their luggage to this empty compartment, Lavi chose to engage. “Why not tell him?”

Allen shrugged, then smiled just a bit pained. “His world is different from ours. They don’t have much cash, so I wouldn’t dump a child on them, and it would be careless to ask Tyki, and the others by extension, to step into the nightmare that is our reality. It’s better this way.”

Lavi hummed in agreement, thinking on the report he’d make to Bookman. Allen Walker, despite his cheerful optimism, could be quite realistic, almost painfully so.

They didn’t tell the families of their Finders about the deceased either.

Ignorance, wounding as it might be, left you with nothing to mourn or miss.

(Later, bound to a chair, the Fourth Apostle screaming at him, Lavi would remember his past assessment and laugh at his naivete.)

#allen walker #tyki mikk #poker pair #dgm #lavi #d gray man #fanfic

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girlmeetsliv3 · 3 years

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Stay

A Rock Band!OT7 x Reader drabble

Hello, I know I’ve been gone for a while but work and school have been killing, not to mention the holidays are coming up. Anyway, I listened to the BE album (a soothing masterpiece) and then today after work I took a four hour nap and was struck with inspiration. So here you go a rock band OT7 au. Also the picture above started it all. Hope you enjoy!!

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation and abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

“...And in other news members of rock band BTS find themselves amid controversy after a video is taken of a member after a concert, who many believe to be the group’s oldest Kim Seokjin alias ‘Pretty boy,’ embracing and kissing their manager as other group members watch on…”

When YN awoke the first time she didn’t pay much attention to her state of undress beyond noticing the robe she was wearing didn’t offer much warmth. Whilst her sleep-addled mind searched for a blanket across the bed - Hoseok usually tucked them under the pillows - YN picked up on the loud sound of a K-Drama playing the background. She surmised Jimin must’ve stayed in, while the others went out to drink or eat dinner. Her search yielded no results and she was so exhausted that she simply fell back asleep.

“Long time fans of the band will be able to tell you that the group’s manager YN YLN has been someone of a polarizing figure. While many love and support her for taking care of the boys and managing their busy schedule. Other fans have been quick to point out how close they are bond is and worry that the ex-dance champion may be using the boys to her own advantage...”

The second time she woke up, YN was immediately more aware of her surroundings. The drama was still playing on in the back, though she wasn’t sure it was the same one, as the door muffled most of the voices. On the bedside table, she found a bottle of water and her night bag which let her know that it was pretty late. Still far too lethargic to comprehend doing more than one thing at a time YN chugged the water down, removed her makeup, cleansed her skin, before finally heading to the bathroom. It was once she took off the robe and sat down that YN surmised she had probably fallen asleep in the car and the boys had carried her into the hotel room. Jungkook likely being the one to undress her and bring her the stuff. She could only hope they had taken the back entrance because YN didn’t need more headlines happening especially not now.

It was once she washed her hands, redressing in the robe, and stepped back out that she was able to notice something was off. The television could still be heard, but it was unusual for Jimin to not have checked up on her at least once. He likely thought she was too exhausted and needed her rest. It was true, though the concert had been a success the impromptus of it had left YN with less than twenty-four hours to prepare for a half-hour set at the venue down the street of the latest city they were at. She even had to lend a hand to staff to load up all the devices and props, by the end her back had been killing her so much that Namjoon had given her something for pain relief.

The general haziness felt could likely be attributed to the muscle relaxer she had taken. Suddenly, right before she was about to jump back into bed a thought occurred to her. Oh shit! It’s probably the third already. I have to call mom and confirm the tickets. Immediately a pang of guilt shot through her core as she thought about her last conversation with the boys. It hadn’t gone smoothly - YN never thought it would have - they had been friends for such a long time and though YN had been with them through all the ups and downs of fame, she felt it was time to sort her own path. They had helped put her back on her feet after her accident and had even offered her to be their manager. In the beginning, no one could have expected how big they would become. YN mainly accepted take her mind off her pre-maturely finished career and as a way to repay them for everything. Now five years later, they were at the top of the world and YN had just been offered a teaching position in the most respected dance institute in the country.

Their time had come to an end and though YN had wished for the transition to be smoother and less hurried, she also knew the boys had a tendency to be...possessive. Life hadn’t been fair to them and though fame had given them so much it had also taken things they weren’t prepared to lose. Perhaps the fault lied on YN, she had after all allowed herself to become their safe space. Artists can be a bit obsessive - YN too was near right addicted to her craft at her prime - so she had let the seven men cling on to her so they wouldn’t go looking for that high in other places or things. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it. As their friend and manager, it was her responsibility to care for them and ensure they could live as normally as was allowed.

It didn’t mean that a fight wouldn’t occur. Didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be accused of betraying them, abandoning them, despising them even if it couldn’t be farther from the truth. They were all reckless as well; harsh, abrasive, and downright machiavellian when they felt cornered. The fight after the show had been an anticipated one, though not a predictable one. They so often switched roles between them: the instigator, mediator, bystander, judge, jury, friend, and foe. Tonight however they constantly switched not allowing YN to even properly explain herself before frustration, exhaustion, and the onset of the medication forced her to call it quits. Not before Seokjin had kissed her though - but that was something she would dwell on when the morning rolled around.

For now, YN focused on scouring the room and searching for her phone, she had it on her in the car so there was no reason for it not to be there. The analog clock that typically displayed the time and date was gone, so YN turned on the television hoping to find a newscasting that displayed the time and date. She scrolled through channels until she saw an image of her flash on the screen, a picture of her from her last showcase.

“Sources had told reporters that YN had been offered a coveted position at Seoul’s Seogsa Dance Academy where she was to begin teaching courses this coming semester. It seems after much deliberation YN has decided to reject the school’s offer. Could her relationship with the band’s oldest and lead guitarist be behind it?”

A barely audible “What?” left YN’s lips. Her mind racing as she tried to process everything she had just heard in the last minute. Relationship? What relationship? I’m not dating Seokjin! Even if I were, I would never reject… YN bolted straight out of bed and to the bedroom door, shaking the doorknob furiously but being unable to open the door. No. They wouldn’t do this. They wouldn’t. “Guys! Guys, open the door. Please open the door.” YN began to pound on the wooden door, begging for an exit. Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore the television on the other side got louder. In an instant, the entirety of the conversation came to the forefront of her mind.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You can’t leave you made a promise!”

“Let’s just hear YN out. I’m sure she has a good reason for keeping this from us.”

“I’m way too worn out for this conversation.”

“Teaching position? Are you even in the state to be able to dance for so long?”

“YN, are you certain you aren’t rushing into this? Is there another reason you’re being so rash?”

“I just think you haven’t thought this out, sweetheart. You can barely handle a few boxes, I don’t think your body can handle dancing for hours on end every single day without harm.”

“We’re your friends YN. We’re just thinking of what’s best for you.”

“Clearly though we don’t matter enough to consider us in this decision. Do you know how much trouble this is going to be? What it’ll look like? You’re feeding us to the sharks and you don’t give a shit.”

YN slid down to her knees, tears streaming down her face as her voice became hoarse after crying for so long. “Please let me out! Please! I’m sorry just let me out!” After hours of imploring, she picked up the small ‘click’ of the lock and heard the creak of the door as it opened to show all seven men staring down at her. Smiles on their face accompanied by dark hooded eyes bridled with sadistic glee.

#yandere bts #ot7 x reader #yandere bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #yandere kim seokjin x reader #yandere kim namjoon x reader #yandere Min Yoongi x reader #yandere jung hoseok x reader #yandere park jimin x reader #yandere kim taehyung x reader #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #rockband bts #stay #stay drabble #bangtanarmynet #girlmeetsliv3

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thankskenpenders · 4 years

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So, about the movie...

At long last, a week after it came out, I was finally able to see the Sonic movie. The Daytona 500 being held across the street from my favorite theater and conflicting work schedules had been keeping me away, but now I’ve finally seen it. And it was...

Decent!

Which is way, way, way, way, way better than a movie with this awful premise has any right being. That’s for damn sure. I enjoyed my time at the theater. I don’t know how they did it, but they did it. If you like Sonic and haven’t already seen it, you will probably get a kick out of this film. If you don’t like Sonic (or Jim Carrey), there is very little in this movie for you

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time to break that whole movie down. This will contain full spoilers for the Sonic movie

This movie kinda gave me deja vu because it’s set up so similarly to the Bumblebee movie. Both open with a slavishly faithful CGI sequence on another planet to ensure long time fans that the creative team gives a shit, but a conflict sends the title character to Earth. There, they form an emotional bond with the human lead as they’re pursued by the bad guys, who are working with the US government and tracking the energy signature of the title character. This setup worked extremely well for Bumblebee, because it’s so similar to the usual plot of Transformers. For Sonic, it was... a mixed bag. But it worked better than I expected

(This shot does not happen in the movie.)

That opening though, huh? Green Hill Zone looked great, and I was pleasantly surprised to see they did, in fact, use the Hyper Potions track from Sonic Mania in the actual film. (The piano rendition of the Green Hill theme used later was also lovely.) Longclaw was also interesting. I’ve seen one person bring up all the bird-themed ruins in Sonic 1 and 2 as a possible source of inspiration for the character, and I think that’s a valid take. And man, the echidnas! I wasn’t expecting that AT ALL. I guess that was probably the Knuckles Clan or something? I would never, ever picture them being alive during Sonic’s lifetime, but like... I guess Knuckles had to come from somewhere, right? If they do another movie with Knuckles, will the rest of his kind have died out?

Sadly, though, this sequence felt like it was over in a heartbeat. We barely see Sonic’s life on his home planet, and we’re expected to feel emotional over Longclaw’s sacrifice when she only gets like three lines before Sonic is sent to Earth. This is a common theme with the film--it goes for these big emotional beats that it just does not earn with its rapid fire pacing

Anyway, then we fast forward and Sonic’s a teen. This is actually kind of an interesting one if you’re constantly neck deep in Sonic Character Analysis like me, because it’s a pretty different take on the character. It’s hard to give them credit for doing something somewhat fresh with the character, though, because like... how much of that was intentional, and how much was just Hollywood writers trying to squeeze a generic action-adventure movie out of Sonic? (Honestly, it’s probably mostly the latter.)

The closest other piece of Sonic media to the movie would probably be Sonic X, a story in which Sonic isn’t really the protagonist. The Sonic of the anime is fairly emotionally distant. He cares deeply about his friends, and does nice things for them, but he’s totally fine with running off on his own for extended lengths of time, and he doesn’t really talk about his feelings. He’s not the character the audience is meant to sympathize with, but is instead this cool older kid who Chris wants to impress. This is pretty much in line with how Sega likes to depict the character. He cares about his friends, but he’s also cool with being a loner. It feels like he only runs into them incidentally, usually when Eggman is causing trouble, and then when the crisis of the week is taken care of he’s back to going on his own adventures. There’s a reason why one of his catchphrases is “long time no see”

The Sonic of the movie is the polar opposite. His main conflict is that he’s lonely and desperately seeks friendship. He’s also an overly-eager, extremely earnest goober. He literally flosses twice. (Which I loved.) I’ve seen him compared to Silver, and honestly, that’s not a bad comparison. I did like it, though! I don’t mind Sonic being a more emotionally open character, like he was in a lot of older Western media. I mean, he cried in like the second or third episode of SatAM

It’s just that, like many things in the movie, it feels less like a deliberate creative choice and more like a logical string of decisions to make when writing a generic action-adventure film for general audiences. Sonic’s the only one of his kind on Earth, so of course he’d be lonely. He has to have some sort of arc for audiences to connect with him, and if he’s gotta be accompanied by James Marsden for the whole movie, well, his arc’s gotta be about them becoming friends

I’ve gotta say, though: Ben Schwartz is great as Sonic. As much as I like Roger Craig Smith, I wouldn’t complain if he became the new main voice of the character. And thanks to the redesign, he looked great. I can’t imagine how nightmarish this movie would’ve been if Sonic wasn’t cute

My main fear with this movie, though, was that Sonic wouldn’t really be the protagonist. As a fan of Transformers, I know all too well that the cost of doing a full CGI character usually means that said character can’t really be the star of the film. Optimus and Bumblebee aren’t the stars of the Transformers movies--they’re supporting characters who are primarily present for the sake of the action scenes. The humans are the real stars in those movies, and the robots are barely even characters. I was terrified that Sonic would be the same, with the actual character I paid to see taking a backseat to James Marsden The Cop

I’m not quite sure if they struck the right balance there, but they did better than I worried they would. Sonic is central enough to the film and gets enough screentime that you can easily say he’s the protagonist. BUT there is absolutely too much of Tom and his family. The human cast is fine, the performances are fine, and there were a few good jokes, but every time the movie tried to get me to care about Tom’s life I was bored out of my mind. It’s just so trite and passionless. The other characters barely felt fleshed out at all, including Tom’s girlfriend (wife?) and Agent Stone. The little girl who gives Sonic the shoes had some cute moments, though

I do, however, love the part in which James Marsden is walking around in a San Francisco t-shirt, to remind us that he’s planning on moving to San Francisco... which then becomes the excuse for Sonic to think about San Francisco and accidentally send his warp rings there, which becomes the excuse for the buddy road trip aspect of the film. And as much as that was a focus of the marketing, the actual road trip part is like... maybe 20 minutes of the movie? There’s like three scenes with Sonic and Tom on the road and then they’re in San Francisco for act 3. The movie tries to act like they’ve formed this deep bond and I just did not give a shit. I don’t care about the cop. All Cops Are Bastards, and that absolutely includes Tom, whose dream in life is to join the extremely corrupt San Francisco PD

The whole excuse for Sonic having to sit in the passenger seat of a car going the speed limit for a good chunk of the movie is also, just. Stupid. If he doesn’t know where San Francisco is and time is of the essence, just... give him a map?

And then there’s Jim Carrey. I was worried about this one. The previews tended to highlight his most Jim Carrey Being Wacky moments, and as fond as I am of movies like The Truman Show and Bruce Almighty, that’s just. That’s not Robotnik. I was pleasantly surprised by the actual movie, though! I thought he was pretty good. I’m not sure what incarnation of Eggman I’d most compare him to, but like... it was close enough, and he was entertaining enough. I’d pay to go see another movie with him as Robotnik. Sure. (Especially with how he was looking at the end of the film.)

There were some other little interesting tidbits here with Eggman, although again, a lot of that is less “let’s do a new take on Eggman” and more “let’s do a marketable movie with Eggman in it, which requires us to explain some stuff.” Like him straight up just being a normal human from Earth, with none of the confusion present in the current “two worlds” canon of the games. Or him apparently being an orphan who was bullied in school, and who trusts machines more than other humans. It’s a safe way to depict the character in a Hollywood movie, but I thought it worked

The way they got to his nickname was kind of funny, though. Like, obviously they didn’t put Jim Carrey in a fat suit, and thank god for that. So instead of mocking his weight, the nickname is derived from the egg-shaped robots he uses. Which made sense, I guess. It at least felt logical for this incarnation of Sonic, who had annoyingly been calling Tom “Donut Lord” the whole movie, to make up the nickname “Eggman.” (Said robots, by the way, were a weak point of the movie to me. They just didn’t have that Eggman whimsy and felt very safe and very Hollywood. Honestly, though, if they had just made Robotnik’s ship grey and slapped some hazard stripes on it, it’d probably be fine.)

As a whole, I thought the humor of the movie was... okay. Sonic had a lot of good moments thanks to Schwartz’s great performance, as did Robotnik. There were just so many weird lines, like James Marsden telling Robotnik that he was breast fed, or the agonizingly long child trafficking joke with Sonic in the duffel bag. Stuff like that

The action was great, though. They definitely owe a lot to the Quicksilver scene in that one X-men movie (I forget the one), but they had a lot of fun with Sonic’s powers and it felt extremely true to the character. Seeing him do one of his Smash poses during the San Francisco fight was great. The action scenes were an absolute delight

And then the ending. Oh, that ending

So, I had already heard that Tails shows up in the stinger before I saw the film. And when I heard that, I expected it to be like, the classic Tails origin story. Maybe Sonic would return to his planet, and run into this precocious kid who decides to follow him around... but no! Not at all! Tails is already the Tails we know and love. He’s already an inventor, he’s already tracking down Sonic. I’m shocked that Sonic actually stayed with Tom instead of running off to have new adventures, but hopefully this is a sign that more characters will be brought into the fray if they make a sequel

And boy, they better make that damn sequel. This movie had a great opening weekend and a positive reception. They have no excuse not to. GIVE US SONIC AND TAILS GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

Other stray thoughts

Holy shit they put Sanic in the movie

The Sega logo animation meant that Kiryu from Yakuza was in this movie for a few seconds

The pixel art credits sequence, which featured both the Sonic 2 special stage and Get Blue Spheres as well as the Eggman logo screens from the Studiopolis Zone boss, was cute

The Saturn logo could be seen on the diagram of the other habitable planets

Robotnik had a label for “Badniks” on his circuit breaker. I wonder if the drones in the movie are intended to be Badniks, or if we’ll see actual ones if a sequel gets made

Also, was it implied that Robotnik committed war crimes for the US government

One of the government guys who I think only got one line was played by Garry Chalk and as such sounded exactly like Optimus Primal

I can’t tell if Sonic getting a red race car bed was an intentional shout out to the Archie comics or if it’s just a coincidence, but I loved it

A dude about my age wearing a Sonic Mania t-shirt literally stood up and clutched his head in shock when Tails showed up

After the movie a very excited kid got his mom to take his photo with the Sonic display in the lobby. Afterwards he was so excited that he flossed

I can’t believe they talked about Olive Garden so much

#tkp post #other media #sonic movie spoilers

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takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

Blood Island, Chapter 4

Climbing back down from the Carmilla’s Fancy was a slow and painful process, but Nuriel wasn’t left with much choice. She was hurt, and she needed to find out how badly.

Finally she dropped down to the sand. Her knees buckles and she staggered, which sent fresh lances of pain across her stomach. Wincing, she grabbed onto a nearby beech trunk and pulled herself back up to her feet and started limping toward the water.

The sun was dipping toward the horizon, but it hadn’t reached it yet, so there was still plenty of light to see by. She waded in up to her calves and slowly pulled the tails of her shirt out of her trousers to inspect the damage.

The cuts were painful, but fortunately shallow. They were bleeding freely, but it didn’t look like anything important had been punctured. Nuriel carefully knelt down and washed them the best she could. The salt water set the fires burning anew and brought fresh tears to her eyes, but she endured.

When she had gotten most of the filth off, she cupped water in her hand and gingerly washed her ear.

The information she got from her fingers wasn’t good. That bird had taken a decent chunk out of her ear, and the flesh that remained was torn and ragged. Just touching it caused the burning pain to flare up.

Nuriel shivered. She was fucked. She was utterly fucked. She might not be in any danger of bleeding out, but wounds like that were sure to get infected. She would die just as easily from that as she would from getting ripped apart, and probably a lot more slowly at that.

Biting down on her lower lip, she glanced around to ensure that nothing was stalking her. Then she yanked out the strips of linen that she had used to bind her breasts and wrapped them around the cuts on her stomach. The pressure brought fresh tears of pain to her eyes, but she knotted them tight and gingerly tucked her shirt back in.

With any luck, the cuts would close without infection. The missing chunk of her ear was gone for good, but it wasn’t the first time someone had taken a large piece of flesh from her, and it was a lot less crippling than last time. At least she could still hear. At least she could-

The white-hot blade sliced through flesh, charring in its wake. Nuriel shrieked and bucked, but the restraints held her in place as Master Reginald coldly made good on his threat.

Sitting restrained across from her, Father wept as he watched. He had to watch. Master Reginald had warned him not to turn away, lest he take off a larger chunk.

Finally it was done, and Nuriel collapsed, weeping around a mouthful of blood and pain. Ignoring her agony, Master Reginald took the lump of flesh into his gloved hands and turned to Father. “I trust I’ve made my point,” he said coldly, and tossed the lump right into Father’s lap. Father grimaced in disgust, but he said nothing. Master Reginald had told him that Nuriel would lose one finger for every word Father said.

“She will live,” Master Reginald continued as he dispassionately pulled off his gloves. “But disappoint me again, and I’ll take something she cannot afford to live without. Do you understand me?”

Nuriel was barely paying any attention. All she knew was pain. Pain, and a gaping emptiness where there hadn’t been one, an emptiness that told her that she would never be the same, never be-

Nuriel’s face twisted up, and she angrily wiped away the tears that had started forming. Stop it, she told herself. Nothing’s gained from going back there. Father’s dead. Master Reginald is dead. It’s just you. And if you survived that, you can survive this.

It was a nice thought, but she could only wish that it was true.

Once she had calmed herself down, Nuriel sighed and turned back to the Carmilla’s Fancy. Getting back aboard was not going to be easy, but it was her best chance to find someplace halfway safe.

The first time she had climbed up, she hadn’t had to worry about moving in any particular way. This time she had to make sure not to bend at the waist too much, to rely on her arms’ to pull herself up through the ladder of branches.

It hurt more than going down did.

Finally she was able to pull herself onto the deck. She rolled onto her back and just lay there, gasping in agony.

She was so fucked.

When the burning had ebbed down into a tolerable throbbing, Nuriel gingerly rolled over and pushed herself up with her palms. Her legs felt wobbly beneath her, but she could stand.

All right, she had the ship to herself now. The bird had fled, and with any luck it would stay away.

Then Nuriel cast a glare over to the captain’s quarters, where its nest was. So long as that was there, there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t be back.

It took some work, but Nuriel was able to wrestle both doors shut. There. At least that damn bird wasn’t going to be slinking back in while she slept.

In the meantime, she needed a place of her own to sleep, and it wasn’t going to be out in the open. Nuriel warily eyed the hatch that led down to the cargo hold. It was shut, so maybe there was a chance that nothing had crawled in.

Opening it sent fresh lances of pain across her belly, but she winced and endured. The sun was close to setting and provided little light down the wooden stairs. Nuriel turned her head this way and that, trying to catch some kind of glimpse of anything that might be lurking within.

When nothing leapt at her face or growled in warning, she began to climb down the steps.

The steps groaned under her feet, but they held her weight, which was good sign. Also, while the ship’s interior smelled plenty damp and musty, she couldn’t pick out anything that smelled especially animalistic, no sign of anything taking up residence in the crew’s absence. Another good sign.

Nuriel sniffed again. Speaking of the crew, she didn’t even smell anything like decaying flesh. Well, maybe fortune was favoring her for once. No angry beasts, and no angry ghosts. Two points in her new home’s favor.

Still, not being able to see much of her surrounding put her ill at ease. This was not the first time she had been forced to sleep in a strange, dark place, and those instances had not always gone well.

Hoping against hope that nothing would disturb her that night, Nuriel went back up the steps and pulled the hatch closed again. Then she carefully felt her way back down until she found a corner next to a post that seemed reasonably dry.

Nuriel eased herself down and stretched out her legs. She shifted her weight around until she found a position that put little pressure on her stomach. Then she closed her eyes.

Nuriel had a number of rituals that she employed whenever she needed to fall asleep quickly. Given the number of uncomfortable places and situations she had gotten herself into over the years, she had gotten quite adept at snatching whatever bits of rest that she could no matter where she was or how much danger she was in.

Counting rats. Yes. Just imagine a ship’s hold, with rats darting from one end to the other. Picture the gentle rocking of the ship, the creaking of the timbers, the clanging of the ship’s bell, and count. One rat, two rats…

She got as far as seven before the darkness took her.

…

Laying a hand on Nuriel’s chest, the native girl gently pushes her back, so that Nuriel is lying flat on her back in the sand. Her ears fill with the sound of the night surf washing against the shore, and far off, the crew is still singing merrily around the bonfire.

Nuriel doesn’t care about any of that. All she can see is the native girl’s dark eyes, like two pools of liquid night, and her smile, her teeth shining bright in the shadows that cover her face. Her curly black hair falls in waves around her bare shoulders, and when she slowly lays her body across Nuriel’s, it spills down onto Nuriel’s chest like a curtain.

Their lips meet, and Nuriel can’t keep herself from groaning out loud.

The native girl sits up again, her legs straddling Nuriel’s hips. Their gazes still locked, the girl calmly reaches up and unwraps her garment from around her middle, loosening it. A casual push, and it drops down in a pile around her waist.

Nuriel inhales sharply.

Still smiling, the girl closes her eyes and lets out a pleased sigh.

When she opens them again, they are now the color of freshly spilled blood and glowing like embers. Her smile widens, exposing knifelike fans.

And when she dips down again, she goes not for Nuriel’s lips, but her neck.

…

Thump.

Nuriel’s eyes snapped open. There was the rush of bewilderment that came from being abruptly wakened, but that was banished from her mind with practiced ease. Within moments the dream was forgotten, sleep was forgotten, she had remembered where she was and why, and was on high alert.

It was now in the dead of night, if the complete darkness surrounding her was any indication. Nuriel took quick stock of herself. Her stomach and ear still ached, but not as badly as they had before. More importantly, she was untouched.

However, she was not alone.

Thump. Skitter.

There was something on the deck. She could hear its claws scratching the wood.

Her right hand started shaking. She quickly covered it with her left and listened. Maybe it was just some tree-dwelling animal that had wandered on board, like another monkey or something like that.

Then she heard a hoarse, cackling cry, a very familiar one at that. Nuriel felt icy fingers of fear slide down her back. The bird was back.

She listened as it walked across the deck, sometimes pausing to claw at the timbers. She was pretty sure that it couldn’t get in, so all she had to do was wait until it left. In time it would realize that hunting her was futile and give up.

And maybe if she wished hard enough she would end up growing wings herself to fly her away.

The bird called out again. It wasn’t the harsh cackle of warning from before, nor was it the screeches of pain as it flew off. This call was shrill and drawn out, clearly some kind of message.

A message that was answered.

Another call responded from further off, and Nuriel heard the sound of flapping wings. Then there was another call, and another, and another. She closed her eyes and mentally recited every profanity that she knew. Not only was the bird back, but it had brought friends.

Soon the air was filled with flapping wings, angry cries, and thumps on the deck above as the birds all came in for a landing. She couldn’t even begin to guess how many there were; she just knew that if they somehow managed to get in then she would be torn apart.

She heard them hopping across the deck and scratching at the hatch. They knew where she was, and they had come for blood.

The scratching grew louder as the birds started to go at the deck itself, and something soft landed on her head. Nuriel jerked, and instinctively covered her hand. More of the stuff fell across her fingers. Sawdust. The birds were looking for weak points in the deck and trying to claw their way through.

Nuriel eased herself up and looked around. There was next to no light to see by, but here and there were tiny cracks and holes in the ship’s hull to let in slivers of moonlight. One hole in particular looked large enough for her to see through. She crept along, one hand feeling her way while the other clutched Saint George, with her heart pounding away the whole time.

She made it to the hole. Kneeling down, she got in close to take a look. Outside, she couldn’t see much other than the moonlit sands sinking into the water. She maneuvered her body around, trying to get a glimpse of the sky.

Suddenly her vision was taken up by a single golden eye, staring through the hole back at her.

Nuriel fell back as the bird screeched in anger. It went to work attacking the hole by jamming its beak through to widen it.

Nuriel stared in horror as the bird aggressively ripped at the decaying hull, sometimes using its beak while other times its talons. Other birds were answered its calls, and she could hear them swooping in to attach themselves to the ship.

Not knowing what else to do, she stabbed Saint George at the dark-feathered talon that was shoving its way into the hole. It immediately withdrew with an angry hiss.

Then Nuriel felt something grab onto Saint George’s blade from the other side. Panicked, she tried to pull him back, but the bird yanked again.

No, no, no, no! This couldn’t happen! She couldn’t end like this, torn apart by a flock of feathered monsters, with her only possession that meant anything to her stolen and defiled.

Nuriel braced her legs against the wall and pushed with all her strength as she pulled back with both arms. She was not going to let Saint George go! Papa had given him to her, Papa had made her promise to take care of him! If she was going to die, it was going to be with Saint George in her hands, blood on his blade, and not carried away to adorn some flying monstrosity’s nest!

She pulled once, twice, and then finally managed to yank him free. She was sent sprawling onto her back as the bird outside screamed in pain and rage.

Dazed, Nuriel lifted Saint George up. Sure enough, there was a streak of dark red on the blade. She had managed to take a piece after all. Well, there was that comfort at least.

Then she giggled. Some comfort. She was moments away from a very gory, very painful end, but hey, at least she still had her knife.

Then, audible even over the birds’ screeching and squawking, a whistle sounded from off in the distance.

A shrill human whistle.

The birds all stopped there clawing and cackling, and for one bewildering moment there was complete silence.

A harsh, guttural sound that was part roar, part snarl, and part scream responded, and Nuriel heard something that was very much like several very large dogs huffing as dozens of feet pounded the sand.

Then the birds began to scream.

Nuriel had no idea what was going on. It sounded like there was a war going on outside, one filled with avian shrieks of rage and pain. The birds were going to war with something apparently, something that equaled them in numbers and savagery. She heard several of the birds’ cackles get suddenly cut off, followed by growls and the sound of ripping flesh and snapping bones.

Then the deck above thumped again as the new somethings leapt on board. Nuriel could hear them scurrying this way and that as they attacked the birds, could see where the beams of moonlight were cut off as their bodies passed over the holes.

How long the fight lasted, she had no idea, but before she knew it the remaining birds had given up. At least the sound of their squawking drew further and further away as they retreated into the night sky.

Above and below, her unlikely rescuers continued to dart this way and that, apparently finishing off any bird too wounded to fly and probably making a meal of their remains. There was a lot of growling, a lot of ripping, and a lot of breaking.

And Nuriel was lying very, very still.

She had no idea exactly what had shown up to drive the birds off, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that they were actually on her side. No, it was just some rival pack of animals, one that would be more than happy to rend her apart in the birds’ stead.

However, there was one advantage in her favor, and that was that they didn’t know she was there. So if she stayed very still and prayed to whoever might be listening that they didn’t smell-

The sounds of feasting stopped. And then she heard something sniffing.

Aw fuck.

The boards of the deck creaked as the newcomers walked this way and that, sniffing and snarling. Nuriel held Saint George to her chest with both hands and closed her eyes.

Then whoever it was that had let out that whistle that had sounded off the attack whistled again. In response, the newcomers immediately retreated, leaping off the ship to the sands below and scurrying away.

Oh.

Well.

That happened.

Nuriel was internally debating the pros and cons of unclenching her muscles and quite possibly even moving when something new thumped onto the deck. It stood still for a moment, and then began to walk across it.

Whatever it was, it was lighter of foot than even the birds. Nuriel could barely hear the padding of its footsteps as it made its way from the stern to the…

It stopped next to the hatch.

Nuriel held her breath.

Then with an agonizing creak, the hatch was hauled open, letting moonlight shine into the storage hold.

And then something stepped onto the top step of the stairs.

Though every muscle was tensed up with terror, Nuriel forced herself to at roll slowly onto her side to face whatever it was that was coming down, whether it be the biggest and nastiest bird there was or one of those scaly monsters or a man-sized spider.

It was none of those things.

Nuriel’s gaze drifted from the bottom of the stairs to the top. And standing there, silhouetted against the stars, was a human form.

It was a woman, one with long and wild hair and a ragged dress. Her features were completely shrouded in darkness, but Nuriel could see a pair of shining scarlet eyes, staring directly down at her.

The breath caught in Nuriel’s throat. Her dream returned to her. The red-eyed monster in the jungle was real.

Time seemed to slow and stretch on and on as they two held each other’s gazes, the monster’s calm, burning gaze boring into Nuriel’s terrified eyes.

Then, so suddenly it sent a jolt of surprise down Nuriel’s spine, the red-eyed monster suddenly looked away, up toward the sky.

Nuriel blinked. It took less than a second, just a quick shuttering of her eyes. Nevertheless, the red-eyed monster was right in front of her, but in the space of time it took for her eyelids to briefly pass down and up again, it was gone.

And then the hatch swung closed, seemingly of its own accord.

Nuriel waited in the dark, listening intently. Her ear was throbbing again, as were the cuts on her belly, but she pushed the pain out of her mind and tried to pick out any sign of the red-eyed monster’s movement.

There was none. It was gone.

Nuriel remained where she was, hands clasped around Saint George’s handle and pressing him to her chest, for the rest of the night.

…

When Nuriel’s eyes opened again, she was still lying flat on her back, hands clutching Saint George to her chest, staring right up at the ceiling.

It was daytime. Exactly when, she had no way of really telling, but the sun was up and seeping through the cracks and holes that dotted the Santa Camarilla’s hull.

She had survived the night.

She had made it.

Nuriel slowly closed her eyes and opened them again. Then she let her head fall to the left, so that she was looking toward the hole that the bird had been trying to break through.

Nothing.

So far, so good. Nuriel righted her head, and then let it drop to her right, laying her cheek flat against the wood.

Immediately agony flared up in her ear, bringing tears to her eyes. Nuriel gasped and immediately jerked her head away, relieving the pressure.

Her ear continued to throb. Nuriel lay as still as she could, waiting for the pain to recede into something manageable.

Gradually the fire cooled, but it didn’t die, and that scared Nuriel the most. Pain she could manage, but if anything it was now hurting more than it had the night before.

Infection.

Nuriel shivered. She had seen what an infected wound could do, had seen small cuts turn into ugly, rotting messes that grew and grew, had seen fully grown men be reduced to shivering, delirious wrecks when they got too bad. She had seen many of them die.

Though her chin was trembling, Nuriel closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. Then she gingerly rolled around the best she could and pushed herself up.

At the very least, the wounds in her stomach didn’t seem infected. They still ached, but they didn’t burn. Hopefully in time they would heal.

Hopefully.

Careful to not upset anything that might split open, Nuriel limped her way to the stairs. The hatch was closed, so most of it was covered in shadow, but she could make out their shapes at least.

There was something on them.

Nuriel paused. There, sitting on one of the middle steps was a basket. And there was something in the basket. The red-eyed monster must have left it.

Which meant that it had returned while she had been asleep. It had reopened the hatch and left the basket while she had been asleep. Now that was something that she was not comfortable with at all.

Nuriel continued to move slowly forward, now more out of caution than pain. The basket didn’t move, so it probably didn’t contain tiny flesh-eating beetles or giant worms or poisons snakes or something like that, but she was ruling no possibility out. She ascended the first few steps and looked inside.

Fruit. The basket was full of fruit. There were a couple of the yellow fruits she had pilfered from the monkeys, as well as some that were bright red and spiky. There were a couple of small green ones with rough skins, and a several smaller ones that honestly looked like blue grapes. And in the center was something long, fat, and purple.

Nuriel recognized exactly none of it.

What was more, there was a piece of paper lying on top. And on the paper was writing.

Nuriel picked it up and walked over to one of the beams of sunlight that was pouring in through a hole. Her reading skills were rusty due to recent lack of use, though they were fortunately passable. Father had made sure of that.

And the note was simple.

Hello.

Do not be afraid. I am a friend.

#blood island #my writing #original writing #pirates #vampires #dinosaurs

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Holding Up The Universe

Pairing: Gwilym Lee!Brian May x Reader

Summary: She worked in an animal shelter and sometimes it felt a bit too much like she was holding up the universe

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I’ve been talking about this fic for so long but for Day Three of my 4K Write Fest I actually finished it!! I hope you guys enjoy reading it, I loved writing it. As always, please remember to let me know what you thought - comment, reblog, send an ask, anything! I love hearing from you guys!!!

And if you wanna check out the other things that will be coming out for the Write Fest click here: 4K Write Fest

The woman at the desk in the lobby of the animal shelter was reading a book.

Brian couldn’t help but stare at her as he paused in the doorway, the door being propped open by a chair to let in the warm summer breeze.

If it weren’t for the heavy cardboard box in his hands, the contents of which had just begun to move a little, the tiny animal inside seemingly having just woken up, he wondered whether or not he would have admired the woman for a little longer.

“Hi - sorry to bother you,” Brian spoke up instead, gaining the attention of the woman, whose head snapped up, wide eyed in surprise at her sudden company.

A smile quickly formed on her face as she bookmarked her page, shaking her head at him.

“Hey, sorry about that. Wasn’t expecting it to be busy today,” she assured him, placing her book down and standing up from behind the desk. “How can I help you?”

“I found a hedgehog in my garden earlier today,” Brian explained awkwardly and she gestured for him to bring the box over and set it down on the table.

“Was she injured at all?” The woman inquired, opening the cardboard box.

“Yeah, I think so. Sorry - I wasn’t sure where else to bring him,” Brian told her apologetically. The woman gave him a dazzling smile, shrugging her shoulders at his concerned tone.

“It’s alright - we mainly just do rescue animals like dogs, cats, rabbits and such but we’d never turn away a hedgehog in need,” she assured him, winking. That simple action went straight to his heart and had him beaming back at her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brian said, for lack of a witty response on his part.

“So he was just in your garden?”

“Yeah, just chilling there.” Brian confirmed.

“Aw, well, we’ll definitely get her checked out, make sure she’s okay and we’ll see what happens,” the woman said with a bright smile that lit up her eyes.

“Thanks!” Brian said. “Do you want me to move the box for you? It’s pretty heavy,” he offered.

“Um, yeah, sure if you’re offering - we’re low staffed today because it’s been so empty lately and one of my coworkers called in sick this morning anyway,” the woman laughed, pushing open the door behind the desk, which presumably led to where the animals currently being cared for in the rescue centre were kept.

“So how many are in today?”

“Just me and another girl,” she shrugged. “But I think she’s out in the back. She’s new so we don’t talk much,” Brian joined in with her laughter.

“I’m Brian, by the way,” the woman gestured for him to put down the box on the table in the back room, where there were pens filled with sawdust and little habitats, holes in the wall where the animals were able to go through into the garden outside the back of the rescue centre.

Brian presumed that this was where they would keep the nocturnal wild animals before they were able to be safely re-released into their natural habitats.

The woman held out her hand to Brian once he had placed the box containing the hedgehog onto the table she indicated to him.

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brian said as he took her hand, thrilled at having learnt her name.

“You too! Thanks for bringing the little guy in - a lot of people wouldn’t have,” Y/N said, letting go of Brian’s hand and opening the cardboard box to look at the hedgehog, which had nestled itself comfortably into the towels which Brian had put in the bottom of the box, unsure of the best course of action of how to care for the small animal on his trip over to the rescue shelter.

“Thanks for looking after him,” Brian shrugged in response, taking the chance as Y/N was examining the hedgehog to allow his eyes to trace over her features, drinking her in in a way that he knew would probably make her uncomfortable if she caught him doing it, but he couldn’t help it.

Brian thought she was beautiful.

///

Brian hated himself for how much he found himself visiting the rescue centre that Y/N worked at.

The first few times he came after coming in the first time to drop off the hedgehog, he had done so under the premise that he was checking up on the little animal that he had brought in, wanting to check up on it’s progress and make sure that it was healing from the broken leg it had - Y/N had explained the extent of the hedgehog’s injuries to him the second time he had come in, eager to let him know the progress of the animal he had saved.

By this point, three weeks after having originally met her, Brian didn’t even attempt to pretend that he was at the rescue centre for any reason other than to see Y/N.

Y/N didn’t seem to mind, though.

She never failed to greet him with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with pure joy. Something which he would sometimes make fun of her for, claiming that he must be the best part of her day judging by how happy she seemed every time that he entered into the centre.

Y/N claimed that her happiness came as a result of the coffee which Brian had taken to buying her on his way over.

Everytime that he would pay her a visit, Y/N would take him to see the animals currently residing in the shelter under her care. Brian loved those moments, to be able to see Y/N completely in her element, walking around the shelter with such confidence, knowing exactly what she needed to do to ensure the safety and well-being of the animals.

“Back again?” Y/N teased when Brian walked into the rescue shelter. He raised his eyebrows at her and tilted his head back towards the door.

“I can go, if you want - I’m sure one of the guys would happily take this coffee if you don’t want it?”

“Let's not be rash now,” Y/N protested, making Brian laugh, taking the coffee over and placing it into her outstretched hand. “How’s it going with the guys anyway? Any advances on the record?”

It hadn’t taken long for Y/N to recognise Brian as being the guitarist in Queen, she was a fan of theirs and the second time Brian had come in she had been straight-up and asked him whether or not it was actually him.

Brian had been wary about agreeing, unsure of what her reaction would be. But she had jumped to apologise about ambushing him with the question, assuring him that she had no malicious intent against him through placing his identity.

Brian had trusted her immediately and confirmed her suspicions, laughing when she recounted her story to him about going to see them play at their last London show.

“Slowly,” Brian admitted with a sigh - he had taken to offloading his worries about the albums onto her, knowing that she wouldn’t spread his concerns any further than just between the two of them, thankful to now have a confidant. It went two ways, though, of course, he was often the person who Y/N would go to to vent about her coworkers and how stressed she felt with how understaffed they actually were at the shelter.

“Still no inspiration?” Y/N asked sympathetically as Brian dragged up a chair to sit opposite the desk she was sat behind.

“No - and the few songs we have managed to write we can’t agree on,” he added.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Roger hates everything Freddie’s written, Freddie hates everything I’ve written, I hate everything Deaky’s written and he hates everything that Roger’s written. It all goes around in circles but it means that we can’t agree on any songs that all of us actually like,” Brian grumbled.

“Sounds like fun,” Brian released a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head.

“I’m pretty close to just breaking my guitar over my head if I’m honest,” he stated, revelling in the sound of laughter it brought from her.

“How long are you there for?” Brian glanced at the clock on the desk and let out a sigh.

“I’m meant to be there in half an hour and we probably won’t leave until midnight, when Fred quite literally passes out,” Y/N pouted at him sympathetically. “How long are you working for?”

“I was meant to be getting off in an hour and a half but Jess called in sick-”

“Again?”

“My sentiments exactly,” Y/N agreed grimly. “So I’m staying late again.”

“You’re not working tomorrow though, are you?” Brian asked, trying to hide the hope in his voice but Y/N appeared to pick up on it regardless, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously.

“Not yet, but you never really know with this job,” Y/N confirmed. “What’s going on?”

“I just… I was wondering if you’d maybe want to get some coffee together,” Brian proposed. Y/N lifted her cup at him.

“What did you think we were doing right now?” She asked but when Brian looked at her he saw the mischievous twinkle in her eye and let out a sigh, rolling his eyes.

“You’re really gonna make me ask it?”

“How else will I know that we’re on the same page?”

“God you’re annoying.”

“Do you want to get coffee together or not?” Brian smiled at her expression.

“Y/N Y/L/N, if you could spare the time from your incredibly busy schedule, tomorrow would you like to go on a date with me?”

///

“You seem nervous,” Brian commented when he opened the door to his apartment to see his girlfriend on the other side, a bottle of wine in her hand and a nervous smile on her face.

“Probably because I am,” Y/N retorted, rolling her eyes. Brian stepped to the side to allow Y/N into the hallway, chuckling at her words.

“I don’t know why,” he said, pecking her lips quickly.

“Oh yeah, can’t imagine,” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes at his nonchalant attitude. “Not like I’m about to meet your best friends, nevermind the other members of Queen.”

“Trust me, they’re all tossers,” Brian assured her. “Nothing to worry about,” he added, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Easy for you to say,” Y/N muttered. “You’ve already met them.”

Brian laughed again, placing his hands on her shoulders and steering her further into his apartment, kicking the front door closed behind them.

“You’d hope I had wouldn’t you - considering that we’re in a band together and all,” Brian mused.

“Is that her, darling?” Freddie called from the kitchen, where he was standing with John, who was uncapping two bottles of beer.

“Yeah! This is Y/N,” he confirmed.

“Nice to meet you, darling, Bri has talked non-stop about you,” Freddie was swift to move over towards her, a charming smile on his face as he held his hand out towards her.

“N-nice to meet you too,” Brian squeezed Y/N’s shoulder affectionately.

“She’s a bit nervous. She’s a fan,” Brian informed Freddie, whose eyes lit up in response. John was watching the interaction with amusement dancing across his face. All the guys loved seeing people interacting with and talking to Freedie for the first time, especially people who were fans of the band as they never really knew what to expect from the singer.

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Freddie enthused, taking Y/N’s hand and shaking it, despite her not having offered it to him. “We’re also big fans - Deaky here is actually my biggest fan.”

John looked at him, expressionless other than a slightly raised eyebrow. He turned his eyes onto Y/N and said, completely deadpan: “I’ve never loved anyone more than I love Freddie.”

“Good to know,” a woman’s voice stated from behind Brian and Y/N.

“Y/N - this is Deaky’s girlfriend, Veronica. Veronica, this is Y/N.”

“Of course you are!” Veronica smiled, holding out her hand for Y/N to take. “We’ve all heard so much about you.”

“That seems to be the theme of the evening, yeah.” Y/N chuckled, looking at Brian in amusement. “How much do you talk about me, exactly?”

“Oh it’s fucking endless, honestly - hedgehog girl this, hedgehog girl that. Makes me consider taking a drumstick and shoving it through my own eye.” Roger grumbled.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

///

“Shit - Y/N? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Y/N had gotten three steps into Brian’s apartment and started to cry.

Brian had rushed out of the kitchen, where he was preparing dinner for the two of them, at the sound of her sobs, his heart clenching with worry as he observed her.

“Fuck - come here,” Brian pulled her into his arms, hugging her as close as he could manage, dropping his chin on top of her head and rocking them both backwards and forwards gently.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N sobbed into his chest. Brian rubbed his hands up and down her arm in his best attempt at comforting her.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Angel,” Brian soothed, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Come on, let's get you sat down somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” He suggested and Y/N nodded with a little sniffle, pulling away and wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper.

Y/N allowed Brian to lead her into his living room, where he pushed her gently down onto the sofa, grabbing the blanket from its back and draping it over her, watching as she sunk into the pillows, the personification of exhaustion when her eyes fell closed, a few more tears slipping down her cheeks from under her now-closed eyelids.

“Where are you going?” Y/N whimpered, her eyes opening when Brian began to move away from the sofa.

“Just gonna turn the dinner off - don’t want it getting burnt, sweetheart,” Brian soothed her, kissing her forehead again before straightening up. “I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promised.

When he returned he brought with him two mugs of tea and a pack of biscuits, knowing by now in their relationship the best way to calm her down when she was upset.

Y/N wordlessly held her arms out for him, though, and Brian sat on the sofa next to her, pulling her into his grip as she began to cry a little again.

“You wanna talk about it, Angel?” Brian probed gently once Y/N’s tears seemed to subside, little sniffles and the occasional tear left in their wake.

“I’m just so stressed, Bri,” she admitted, nestling herself closer to him, a mournful expression on her face.

“Shelter stuff?” Brian asked sympathetically, kissing the top of her head.

“Yeah I just… it feels like I’m the only one working there, you know? And it’s just so stressful and I hate the people I work with and I love the animals - I do! I love that I can help them and everything but it just all feels so far out of my control so much of the time and I don’t… I just feel so alone there, like everyone and everything is relying solely on me,” the words tumbled quickly from her lips, as though she had been holding them inside of herself for so long that they were relieved to finally be able to burst free.

Brian’s arms tightened around her.

“I’m sorry, Angel.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Brian conceded before shrugging a little helplessly. “But I’m still sorry that you feel like this.”

“Does it make me a bad person?” Y/N questioned after a couple of minutes of silence filling the room.

“No - you’re human, Y/N/N. And you do practically run that shelter alone half the time with how understaffed you are and the amount of times people call in sick. Of course you’re tired and stressed, anyone can see how much you love the animals and how good you are at looking after them. You’re not a bad person for needing a break, okay, Angel?”

“Okay.”

“You feeling better?” Brian asked and Y/N lent forwards to pick up her mug of tea before nestling back into Brian’s side.

“Much - sorry about that.”

“Stop apologising, sweetheart, I’m just glad I could help.”

#Brian May #brian may fanfiction #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #brian may fanfic #brian may fic #brian may fan #brian may fluff #brian may imagines #brian may x y/n #gwilym lee!brian may #bohemian rhapsody #queen #courts 4K Write Fest #courts writings

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silver-wields-a-pen · 5 years

Text

Illthdar High: An au fan fiction

Thursday

Raemina’s mind was reeling since yesterday’s encounter with Rhovan at the mall. Her friends were similarly flustered and preoccupied by their own love lives. Nyima because she and Jingyi finally set up a time to play video games together, and Vyxen because of Date’s forward invitation to the dance, which Nyima and Raemina, along with Vyxen’s brother Salem, all witnessed.

Their excitement led to an eventful shopping trip for the trio. They spent much of the rest of their afternoon laughing and daring each other to try on dresses they knew they’d never wear. In the end, Raemina settled on a smart plaid dress with a cute frilled skirt. Vyxen, no doubt still thinking about a certain singer, found a lacy, black dress with a bit of sheer in the neckline that contrasted beautifully with her pale complexion. But the most surprising pick of the day went to Nyima. Normally content to wear beiges and neutral tones, she ended up choosing a fun and flirty yellow dress with a subtle floral print, though she assured her friends she’d still be wearing her signature cardigan and tights with it because there was no way she’d risk getting sick just before midterms.

Speak of the devils, Rae thought, smiling when she caught up with her friends in the hallway. “Hey guys! How was math?” It was one of the few subjects the three girls didn’t have together. As future valedictorian, Raemina took advanced subjects when they were still in middle school.

“It was all right,” Vyxen answered for the both of them.

“Are you looking forward to P.E.?” she teased, laughing when the other two turned bright red, no doubt thinking about two specific boys in basketball shorts. Somehow all three of the girls were in gym class with their crushes, and while it might not have been Rae’s favorite subject, it was always a good opportunity to gossip about boys

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Nyima managed.

As they continued down the corridor, Raemina felt a little light headed, but chalked it up to her excitement over getting to see Rhovan again. Maybe today would be the day she’d gather enough courage to ask him to the dance. Just as they pushed open the side doors that led out of the main building and towards the gym, Rae felt her legs get heavy with lead and her fingers tingled. Oh no, oh no. She started frantically searching her bag for snacks. She usually kept a chocolate and nut trail mix in her bag for times like these, but she had been so preoccupied on her way to school today she hadn’t packed them.

Vyxen and Nyima stopped beside her.

“What’s wrong?”

Rae heard the panic in Nyima’s voice, even though the sound travelled to her muffled, as if she were listening to them from below water. She looked up and black spots danced in her periphery. “I just need to sit,” she replied. Or at least she meant to. Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. The numbing sensation that had begun in her hands had now snaked its way up the rest of her body. And then everything went black.

~*~*~

“All right, hurry up,” Coach Phanuel boomed from the court as the stragglers made their way out of the locker rooms.

Jingyi only moderately picked up his pace as he went to join the rest of the class on the bleachers. He always dreaded this period. P.E. was a nightmare scenario for a scrawny asthmatic like himself. Running, jumping, climbing, hitting things…nothing about it appealed. It also hurt that Nyima was in the class. Nothing made his confidence plummet like looking weak and pathetic in front of the girl he liked.

“So, athletes,” Coach continued once everyone had taken a seat. He never referred to them as students, always athletes, as if he thought by calling them so it would somehow be true. “Since this week will already be stressful enough with homecoming coming up, I’ve decided to let all you blow off some steam.”

Jingyi nearly groaned. Whatever he was planning wouldn’t be good.

“Dodgeball,” Coach Phanuel finished with a grin. “Miu, Lerki, you two are team captains.”

“YES!” Miu punched the air and hopped to her feet while Lerki followed, less ecstatic, but with some glimmer of amusement in his eye that promised nothing good for anyone.

Jingyi felt his stomach drop, it didn’t matter what team they put him on this would still be a nightmare. Miu would doubtlessly be preferable, but that would mean he’d be against the quarterback of the football team. If Lerki picked him—unlikely—then he’d have to worry about getting pushed around by his teammates and getting smacked by a bunch of not-so-soft softballs. There was no winning in this unless he stabbed himself and got excused.

Rhovan had no feelings about dodgeball, he was only hoping that Rhoe got put on the opposite team so he could hit her in the face and get away with it. He tied his long blue hair up into a bun at the base of his skull and spied Vyxen and Nyima scurry towards Mr. Phanuel. Their teacher pulled the most exasperated face at the sight of them and waved them both towards the bleachers without even bothering to speak to them. They did this every class. Nyima had some kind of doctor’s note that got her out of contact sports and Vyxen was, apparently, allergic to whatever they made dodgeballs with. Also: nets, baseballs, soccer balls, footballs, tennis balls and probably oxygen. Needless to say, they were Coach Phanuel’s least favorite ‘athletes’.

To the side of him, Miu and Lerki’s voices rang out as they picked their teams. Lerki picked Seth first, Miu grabbed Anna, and they carried on with each of them fighting to get the best players. Rhovan didn’t expect to get picked until near the end. He was decent in gym, but he’d never been very interested in sports.

“This will be so stupid,” Date’s voice bemoaned beside him, no more a sports fan than Rhovan was.

“Tell coach you’re allergic to paying attention and maybe you can go sit with your girlfriend,” Rhovan suggested and snickered when Date appeared to be considering it. He knew that Date and Vyxen were going to the dance together because it pissed Salem off. He’d had to listen to the two bicker all morning like a married couple. He hadn’t paid too much attention to it though. It was usual for those two to go back and forth, but his thoughts stuck on Raemina and whether he’d talk to her today.

“Band boys, you’re with me,” Miu yelled out to them, gesturing both Date and Rhovan over. Left were a few stragglers, begrudgingly called to join, and the two teams took their places on the floor.

Rhovan was on a team with Date, the quiet asthmatic boy, a bunch of girls he didn’t know and a single football player. Lerki’s team had several football players, and some random nameless background characters. Despite Miu’s pep talk about how they could win with a strategy, it was clear he was on the losing side. The only upside to the situation was that Rhoe was on the opposing team and he made sure to take a position right in front of her.

“Is that supposed to be intimidating?” Rhoe asked, both amused that the little drummer boy thought he could beat her and still angry from dealing with him yesterday afternoon. She hated sports but if there was one skill she did have, it was killer aim. “I’m gonna break your face, pretty boy.”

“Try it,” Rhovan challenged as they both parted to walk to the opposite side of the gym, waiting for the whistle to sound so they could run forward and grab a ball.

As it turned out, challenging a girl known for throwing rocks through windows was a bad idea. Not even three minutes in, Rhoe nailed him in the face with a ball, sending him staggering backwards and onto the gym floor.

~*~*~

I guess this is what I get for getting involved with a guy who’s obsessed with vampires, Imogen thought sourly as she adjusted the collar of her shirt for the fifteenth time that period. As hard as she tried yesterday to cover up the hickey Salem left with foundation, her neckline hadn’t done her any favors. Of course Zercey had noticed immediately when Imogen finally emerged from the bathroom. Her friend’s eyes went right to the glaring mark on her neck, but thankfully she didn’t do more than raise her eyebrows in question. Imogen counted herself lucky that Scyanatha and Seth left the group while she was still tied up with Salem. Zercey, being the loyal friend she was, hadn’t mentioned anything or made a scene in front of Lerki and Laura when they all shared a ride home. Imogen would be dead if either of them knew the whole truth. Socially, at least.

She sagged with relief when she saw that today’s weather would be chilly and gratefully put on a collared shirt and sweater that hid what the makeup could not. She’d made it through her first two classes just fine, but now she was on a field trip for her science class with Salem and acutely knew how much space there was between them.

As if he were reading her thoughts, he looked up from where he was standing a few feet away. His eyes went first to her neck where he had branded her and then up to meet her own. She felt her face get warm and quickly looked away. “Hey, can we meet at your place after school? I have an idea I’d like to run by you,” Salem asked, turning to Xyl. “It’s not safe to talk about it here.” He didn’t elaborate, and it reminded him why he had the very best friends in the world when Xyl just shrugged and agreed.

Date had been similarly nonchalant about it and he hadn’t asked Rhovan yet, but he’d get to that at lunch. Scyanatha and Seth snapped his very last nerve, and he wouldn’t let it go. It was about time those two got a taste of their own medicine and he would ensure that it happened. Unfortunately, this was hardly a one-man job and if he would pull it off, he would need backup. His grey eyes drifted back to Imogen again, wondering if she’d help him. It could go either way with her. He didn’t believe for a second she was so oblivious as to not realize what Seth and Scy were like, but she also cared entirely too much about her social standing. Maybe he’d ask her later, after she finished yelling at him for that hickey. “Do you think you can get Rhoe and her friend to come too?” Salem added suddenly, thinking it might be good to have some pro-delinquents on the team. He was sure they didn’t care about helping anyone but themselves, but they might be interested enough in causing some havoc to be useful anyway.

Xyl hadn't expected that. He blinked stupidly at his friend. “What? Why?” He didn’t care what Salem wanted to talk about, he figured it was some supervision plan to keep Date from being alone with Vyxen at the dance. That theory went out the window if he wanted to talk to Rhoe and Cowan. Those two weren’t nice, even if one of them looked really nice, and if they were involved then something potentially criminal was happening. “Should I be concerned about this meeting?”

“Probably,” Salem answered with a grin, “but if all goes well, it’ll be worth it.”

~*~*~

Raemina woke up flat on her back and with a throbbing headache. The crinkling sound of paper when she shifted told her she was in the nurse’s office. A quick look around proved that theory correct. She barely got to sit up before both the school nurse and principal Chiyoko were on her, asking her if she was ok and shoving a box of dried fruit in her hand to eat while she waited for her mother to rush over some iron pills. They knew she was anemic, but since she was usually careful about what she ate it wasn't a big deal. She gingerly sat up, her head spinning slightly with the move and opened the box of fruit. One bite of some dark colored lump that tasted like sweat and regret had her immediately spitting it back out and setting the box to the side, she would wait for her mom to bring the pills. She'd also bring a lecture and Rae knew she deserved it. This was her own fault, she’d been so giddy from talking to Rhovan and going dress shopping that she’d forgotten to eat when she’d got home and then had rushed out the door this morning with only a poptart for breakfast. She hoped Vyxen and Nyima weren’t too worried about her, the poor things. If her mother hurried, she could be back in time for History class to let them know she was ok before they both spiralled further into anxiety.

A hollow clicking sound alerted her to the door opening and she looked up, expecting to see her mother only to find Rhovan standing there with blood dripping down half of his face.

“Oh my gosh, are you ok?” She jumped off the bed in an attempt to help but needing to immediately sit back down when a powerful wave of dizziness hit her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rhovan had been hurt worse in his time and the ache of his nose was nothing compared to the blow his ego took. Rhoe hit him hard and although his nose wasn’t broken, it was going to end up bruised. So much for looking cool on stage tomorrow. “Are you ok?” He took a seat on the bed beside her and looked her over. She was pale and shaky and looked more worse for wear than he did.

“Yeah, I just had a small fainting spell. I should be fine once my mom gets here,” Rae explained, picking up the nearby box of tissue and handing it over so Rhovan could stem the tide of blood coming from his nose. The situation wasn’t ideal, but at least she still got to see him in his gym shorts. He had really nice legs.

Further conversation paused as the nurse bustled over, making a cross noise at the state of Rhovan’s face, helping to clean him up a bit. The blood would eventually stop and apart from the nasty bruising around the area and under his left eye, he’d be just fine to return to class. The nurse left to fish him a new shirt out of the lost and found, letting the two teens have a short moment by themselves.

“You usually walk home, right?” Rhovan asked, trying to make it sound casual and not like he’d been watching her like a creep. This whole scenario kind of sucked, but he liked to think of himself as an opportunist and this was probably the only time he’d get her alone until school let out. He shouldn’t waste it. “Not to sound creepy or anything, I see you walking sometimes on my way out. I wouldn’t feel right letting you walk home after you fainted, I could give you a ride if you want?”

Rae was surprised he noticed, but she smiled thinking along the same lines he was. This would give her the perfect chance to ask him to the dance! “That sounds great, thank you!”

“All right, cool.” Rhovan gave her a smile, but since his face was still sore from where he’d been hit, it quickly turned into a grimace.

The nurse walked back in with a fresh shirt and handed it to him. “Go ahead and change in the toilet there,” she instructed, pointing to the bathroom door, “and then you can get back to class.”

He did as he was told and five minutes later, he was back in the gym holding an icepack to his face. It might not have been ideal, but he was finally going to hang out alone with Rae. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the bleachers, visions of lace panties dancing in his head.

~*~*~

The school lunch room was a beige monstrosity with the worst layout Date ever saw. Trying to maneuver his way through tables, legs, elbows and butts while holding a lunch tray should count as military training. He paused briefly to lean down and press his lips against Vyxen’s cheek. “You look nice today,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. As he moved on to sit beside his bandmates he noticed she'd gone beet red.

Salem scowled at him, but he hardly cared. “Did you guys finally figure out the set list for tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Rhovan, slightly bruised but no worse for the wear after gym class, answered for the group and handed Date a piece of paper with the two songs they would perform tomorrow during the talent show. They wouldn’t have been Date’s first choice, but they would work.

“I need you to come over to Xyl’s house with me after school,” Salem informed him and he just nodded. It was probably to talk about some harebrained, ridiculous, scheme to take on their royal majesties and while he didn’t think it would end well, it could still be amusing. Or maybe it wouldn’t be, since Rhoe and her friend arrived a minute later and if they were involved then this could very well end them all in prison.

“How does your nose feel, pretty boy?” Rhoe asked as she elbowed Rhovan to make room for her on the bench. He didn’t move.

“What do you want?” he growled back.

Cowan smirked.

Salem rolled his eyes and moved over himself so Rhoe and Cowan could sit beside him instead, knowing that Rhovan was too stubborn to do it himself. “Can you not act like a bunch of tools?”

“What are they doing here?” Rhovan would sooner poison himself then put up with this girl and her boyfriend for a second longer than necessary. The fact they even allowed her to sit with them was pissing him off.

“We’re meeting at Rhoe and Xyl’s house after school,” Salem explained. “We need them. So play nice.” He fixed his drummer with a pointed look that suggested every piece of blackmail he had on him would be made public if he didn’t cool down.

Rhovan wasn’t having it. “I got permission from Culvers to do the project on my own. Enjoy your failing grade.”

“If you keep saying such sweet things people might get the wrong idea,” Rhoe retorted. One of her favorite pastimes was seeing how far she could push someone, and Rhovan was an easy target. If she had known this before she would have tortured him sooner.

Cowan set a hand on her shoulder, silently communicating that she should lay off. “Come on, Rhoe,” he said, deciding it was better to leave now before someone threw punches, “If we want to get a smoke in before class, we’d better go.” Turning to the band, he added, “We’ll see you after school.”

Xyl watched his sister and his crush walk away with an increasing sense of dread.

~*~*~

“Admit it, we slaughtered you, Miu,” Lerki joked, good-naturedly elbowing her in the ribs as they and Seth made their way from gym class to the cafeteria together.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Just wait ‘till we scrimmage next season. My girls are gonna wipe the floor with your boys.” She gave him a punch on the arm and left the two men to join the rest of her team for lunch while Lerki and Seth sat down next to Zercey and Scyanatha.

“Aw man, Kallder, you should’ve seen it,” Lerki said excitedly once he took his seat. Imogen knew his use of her last name was an indicator he was still talking about sports things, and she fought back a groan; athletics were so boring. “Your sister was on our team for dodgeball. She may be a freak, but that girl has a wicked arm on her. She pelted that blue-haired dork so hard I thought he’d cry.” Seth laughed beside him, content to keep rehashing the day’s victory with his friend until Scyanatha let out an impatient whine. Quickly correcting his mistake, Seth engaged his girlfriend in a seemingly intense game of tonsil hockey.

For once, the couple’s PDA relieved Zercey. All she’d heard all day was Scyanatha going on and on about the dance and how her and Seth would make the perfect Homecoming King and Queen. It was starting to make her crazy. She already had plenty on her plate with cheer practice and she didn’t want to hear any more of Scy’s so called ‘problems.’

“So,” she said, taking the opportunity to switch the subject, “Imo, you’re still staying late to plan the dance, right? Did you need a ride home?”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be great,” she answered. Zercey was clearly mad at Lerki for something, she barely even glanced his way when he sat down.

“Wait a minute, sweetness, I thought you and I would be riding home together.” Lerki, finally coming out of his victory high, tried to reach across the table to take her hand but Zercey snatched it away before he could. He rolled his eyes. “What did I do now?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Zercey commented, shooting a glare in his direction that suggested otherwise.

Lerki huffed dramatically and threw his hands in the air, annoyed that he’d pissed her off again and thinking she might not be worth the effort. The head cheerleader was almost as high maintenance as Scyanatha.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you, anyway.” Zercey ignored him and returned to her conversation with Imogen, her eyes glancing to the girls covered neck. There was an interesting story behind that hickey and was determined to find out what.

Imogen just sighed and silently reminded herself to murder Salem the next time she saw him.

The rest of their lunch break progressed in much the same way until they all parted to go to class. Scy hooked her arm through Seth’s, allowing him to lead her through the halls while she lost herself in thought.

“What did your parents have to say?” Seth asked, finally broaching the topic that had been bothering him since last night. She never did text him and they hadn’t gotten a moment to themselves until now.

“The usual,” Scyanatha replied flippantly. “I’m a shame to the family, I’m slutty, why can’t I be more like Oidhan, the same spiel as always.”

Seth pulled his arm out of her grip and wrapped it around her shoulder pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her temple. “One more year, baby,” he promised softly. “That’s all we have left before we’re eighteen and you can come live with me and never have to see those jackasses again.”

Scyanatha smiled, resting her head in the crook of his neck and letting the scent of his cologne calm her. One more year and then I’ll be free.

~*~*~

The end of the school day couldn’t come quick enough. Xyl had been thinking over everything Salem said and it wasn’t putting him at ease. They should worry about getting in a final band practice before tomorrow and instead they were all going to this ‘meeting’ as if it was some undercover SWAT operation. Luckily his aunt wasn’t home, and neither was Imogen, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Mostly, he tried to gather up snacks and drinks to lie out, hoping to keep everyone’s hands busy so no one killed each other. Everyone was here except Rhovan and while he didn’t think Date or Salem would try to murder his sister, it was still a good idea to take precautions. Besides, keeping busy helped him keep his eyes off of Cowan. Rhoe may not be perceptive enough to notice his not-so-subtle ogling, but Salem would and he didn’t really want anyone to know about his crush yet.

“So, what do you geeks want?” Rhoe broke the awkward silence first, grabbing a fistful of chips and then flopping back on the couch to eye Salem and Date with obvious boredom, matched by the equally bored look Date gave back.

“We’re going to take Seth and Scyanatha, and possibly all their friends, down a few notches.” Salem informed them all bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush. If he tried to ease them into it, Rhoe and Date would for sure lose interest and zone out.

Xyl almost choked on his drink, eyes widening comically in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” He was hoping Salem wasn’t serious. “Doesn’t Seth’s family own like… this whole city. We’d never get away with it.”

Neither Date nor Rhoe looked bored anymore.

“We can get away with it if we do it right,” Salem argued, “if everything goes according to plan then no one will even find out we’re responsible. What is Seth gonna do? Sue the whole student body?”

Xyl firmly believed that Seth would sue the whole student body, just to prove he could, and he was about to tell Salem that, but got cut off.

“Look, those two have been acting like gods sent to earth since middle school and I’m done with it. They torment everyone just to amuse themselves and I’m going to get revenge with or without your help.”

“I’m in!” Rhoe hadn’t expected much from this little get together but she guessed she misjudged them. There was clearly more to them than eyeliner and body glitter. Not much more, but more than she anticipated. She’d been thinking about taking Scy and Seth on for a while anyway and at least this way she had other people to blame if things went south. “What’s the plan?”

Her answer was total silence and she rolled her eyes, casting a ‘can you believe this?’ look towards Cowan. “Are you telling me you don’t have a plan?”

“I didn’t decide to do this until last night, so no, I don’t,” Salem defended. “That’s why I invited you two here.”

“I’m touched that you think so highly of us,” Cowan commented with a grin, deeply amused by the situation.

“When were you planning on carrying out this little coup?” Rhoe snapped her fingers as if she just remembered something. “Oh wait, I forgot that you don’t have a plan.”

“We should do it at the dance,” Date intervened before Salem could dig himself too deeply into a hole. “Everyone will be there. It would be hard to pick out who was responsible from a crowd that large.” He paused for a moment, considering their options. “And if we really want to hurt them then public humiliation would be the best route.”

“I’m not dumping a bucket of blood on anyone,” Xyl informed them all, crossing his arms and envisioning a horror scene worthy of the movie he referenced. If anyone would use telekinetic powers to murder someone, it was definitely Scyanatha.

“We won’t go that far, stupid, that could get us in serious trouble.” Rhoe liked trouble but she’d prefer to not end up in cuffs over this. “Lucky for you nimrods, I have an idea. If you really want to get back at the king and queen, this is what we’ll do.”

~*~*~

“You’re way better than I imagined!” Jingyi breathed, impressed by Nyima's skill in Mortal Kombat. He was good, but she was excellent and if he wasn’t already stupidly infatuated with her, he would be now.

Nyima giggled and straightened her back, proud of herself for picking up on the game so quickly and kicking his butt. They had been playing for a little over an hour and she was slowly getting more comfortable with him. She honestly thought she was going to die when she first arrived at his house, and he didn’t look much better. Jingyi was a flustered, stuttering mess. He was beginning to loosen up though and Nyima found that she liked how he looked when he wasn’t working hard to be invisible. “You’re not letting me win, are you?”

“I promise I’m not,” Jingyi assured with a laugh and Nyima tried to pretend like it didn’t make her heart flutter to hear it. “I was trying pretty hard to win so I could impress you, but you walloped me cleanly.”

“You were a decent opponent.” Nyima gave credit where it was due, he’d almost beaten her a few times. “Next time, you should come to my house and we can try you out on Final Fantasy!” The words didn’t register in her head until a minute after she’d said them and her whole body froze up. Oh my giddy aunt, did I just invite him on a date?

“I’d love too.” He could see her nerves started to rear up again. It fed into his own and he knew that if he didn’t fix things quick then the fragile comfort they built up would shatter around him. “Can I walk you home? We could get ice cream on the way; my treat?”

Outside and back on neutral ground, the comfort seemed to return and Jingyi steered her towards talking about her beloved Final Fantasy, endeared by how expressive and excited she was as she gave him a full run-down of the storyline and all the characters. It seemed a lot more complicated than most of the games he played and he made a mental note to research it later so he wouldn’t totally suck at it when they got together again. The easy talk about Eidolons and chocobos over chocolate ice cream eventually turned into talk about school, the antics of Nyima’s friends and life in general. Before Jingyi knew it, they were at her front door and he felt the smile fading from his face when he realized that his time with her was up. Now that they were able to talk without choking on their words he felt like he could do it forever. If he could drag the conversation on a little longer without making himself look like an idiot, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“Thanks for walking me home.” Nyima was sad to see him go, but also kind of excited because this afternoon had been the best and she couldn’t wait to tell Vyxen and Raemina about it. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jingyi hesitated for a second, fighting to gather his courage. It must have taken a while because he heard her fish her keys out from her bag, unlock the door and prepare to go inside. She got one step into the house before a burst of blind panic gave him the tiny bit of courage he needed. “Wouldyoulikedanceme?”

Nyima paused, turning back to look at him and cocking her head to the side, not understanding a word he’d just said. “I’m sorry?”

Smooth, Jingyi, very nice, he chastised, taking a deep breath and desperately holding onto that tiny spark of courage as he tried again. “Would you like to go to the dance with me?”

The butterflies in Nyima’s stomach came back full force, but even they couldn’t stop the smile taking over her face. She should say no, she’d be a nervous wreck the whole time and she knew it, but much like it had at the game store, her mouth seemed to function independently of her brain. “Yes, I’d like to.”

“Thank god.” Jingyi breathed out, flushing a bright red when he realized he’d said it out loud.

Nyima giggled.

“I mean, cool. Cool… I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He didn’t wait for an answer before speed walking away.

Nyima felt both nauseous and giddy. Her brain was running at a mile a minute and she had no idea what to do about anything and so she did the only thing she could do. She raced up to her bedroom, dropped her bag onto her pawprint comforter, dialed Vyxen’s number and screamed directly into the phone.

~*~*~

“He didn’t ask me to the dance!” Zercey had all but screamed once the final pep rally practice was over, throwing her bag into the back seat of her cherry red sports car and slamming the driver’s side door shut.

Imogen tried not to sigh too loudly as she slid into the passenger’s seat.

“He expects that we’ll go together,” Zercey continued. “I mean, we are going together, but he could have asked! It wouldn’t kill him to be romantic!” Lerki had never, not once in their entire relationship, done something nice for her just because he wanted to. He only ever did nice things when she was mad and then he had the gall to wonder why she was always mad. “Sometimes I feel like he’s only interested in my body,” she confessed as she started the car. “Seth and Scy have been together for years and he still asked her to the dance, and he did it with a dozen long-stemmed roses and a diamond pendant!”

“What do you think of Seth and Scy?” Imogen cut in, having been pondering that same question for a while now herself.

“I think they’re both awful human beings who don’t care about anyone or anything beyond each other.” Zercey didn’t even hesitate before giving her answer and it took Imogen by surprise. “They’re terrible, but Seth has connections I need if I want to get through college without having to work too hard. Once I’m through with that, his connections will help me get a good job and I’ll move across the country and never speak to either of them again.”

“You’re using them,” Imogen concluded, unsure on how she felt about it.

Zercey stopped at a red light and shot her an annoyed look. “Of course I’m using them. I’m sorry, Imo, are you hanging out with those two for their stellar personalities?” When she didn’t respond, Zercey nodded as if it proved her point. “We’re both using them for their connections and Seth’s money and they’re using us to boost their social status and make themselves look good. Everyone wins, except us because we still have to deal with them.”

Imogen had never thought about things that way before and she didn’t like the way it made her feel, like she’d just swallowed something slimy.

Luckily, Zercey was quick to change the subject. “So how did you get the hickey you’ve been trying to hide all day?”

“I would rather die than tell you,” Imogen informed her honestly, feeling like there wasn’t a need to lie but also not willing to talk about Salem yet. She felt conflicted about everything right now and she didn’t know if she had a single real friend she could count on.

Apparently she did though, since Zercey just shrugged in response to her statement. “Ok, but I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence with Zercey still stewing over Lerki and Imogen trying to figure out what she was going to do from here on out. She didn’t snap out of it until they reached her house and she saw several cars blocking her driveway, one of which she recognized as Salem’s.

“Your brother’s friends are over?” Zercey asked with a nod towards the cars. She knew for a fact Imogen’s sister didn’t have that many.

“It looks like it,” Imogen said as she hurried out of her seat. “Thanks again for the ride, Zerce. I’ll text you later.” She tried her best to be nonchalant even though seeing Salem’s car had made her heart start to beat faster.

Zercey narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but said, “All right,” just the same.

On her way into the house, Imogen gave herself a pep talk. Just act normal. She walked into the living room and was surprised to find not only all of Xyl’s band, but Rhoe and her burnout friend Cowan as well. They were all huddled around each other, talking in hushed tones as if they were conspiring, which they definitely were since it seemed like Rhoe was leading the whole thing.

Seeing her sister walk in, Rhoe sat back. “The golden child returns,” she mocked. At her words, the boys broke off their talking as well and looked to the new arrival.

Imogen glowered from the doorway. “Whatever. Did Nayidh leave anything for dinner?”

“Yeah, leftovers are in the fridge,” answered Xyl from where he sat in the corner.

She left for the kitchen, not bothering to acknowledge any of the other people sitting in her living room. As she waited for the oven to preheat so she could warm up the vegetarian lasagne from the other night, she popped into her room and threw her bag on the bed. A few seconds later she heard a faint knock on her door.

“What?” Imogen figured it was Xyl coming to bother her for who-knows-what and so she didn’t even bother to turn around when she heard her door open.

“I have like one minute before they realize I lied about using the bathroom and come looking for me.” Salem normally would have been excited to be in Imogen’s room, but he knew he was potentially walking towards his death, so he couldn’t enjoy it. If she didn’t kill or break it off with him, maybe he’d get to see it again sometime in the future and he’d be excited then. “I wanted to come say that I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.” It would look better for him if he started to grovel immediately. “And for giving you a hickey. I know you’re pissed about it, I kind of got lost in the momen…ooomph!” His apology was cut short by a pillow smacking him directly in the face.

“Don’t give me that bull, you knew what you were doing Salem!” Imogen snapped at him, the scene very similar to the one that played out in the mall bathroom, though this time she wouldn’t let him off easy. “This mark could ruin everything! Zercey saw it and she’s already asking questions. Do you know what will happen if Scy sees it?” She didn’t even know what would happen if Scy saw it but she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m sorry,” Salem remarked lamely, automatically taking a step back when she stalked towards him. She was shorter than he was but Imogen was scary when she was mad and he didn’t want to get thrown out a window today.

Her hands fisted in the lapels of his leather jacket and he braced himself for a shove out of her room. It surprised him when he felt her pull instead of push and soon her soft lips were pressing insistently against his own and Salem wondered if Imogen had a thing for kissing guys after she snapped at them.

“Don’t do it again,” Imogen warned when their lip lock broke. “And I expect there to be flowers and chocolates delivered in the immediate future as proof of your remorse.”

~*~*~

Rhovan pulled into the driveway of Xyl’s house with a grin. He didn’t care that the stretching of his lips made his face hurt or that he would have to endure Rhoe’s presence for however long they took to hear Salem out. Everything was well with the world and nothing, absolutely nothing, could bring him off cloud nine. Except taking on Seth and Scyanatha, which apparently was what everyone was planning. “Are you actually stupid?” he asked them incredulously. “Ok, not only are those two not worth this kind of time, but Seth’s dad is a douchebag lawyer who sues everyone who looks at him wrong. There is no way you’ll get away with this.”

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” Salem informed him in a tone that suggested he absolutely had to help and would pay dearly if he didn’t.

Rhoe smirked evilly at him from where she sat across the couch and he started to seriously reconsider his policy on not hitting girls. He was trapped and he knew it, he couldn’t go against Salem with everything the vampire-wannabe knew about him and since the whole band was in on it, he’d get blamed alongside them even if he had nothing to do with it. “Fine, but if we get in trouble for this, then I’m killing all of you.” He tried to block out most of the plans being made around him. On the off chance they were doing anything crazy, he figured the less he knew, the better. It was a relief when he was finally free to go home, it being too late by then to have band practice. Once in his car and heading far away from everyone, especially Rhoe, he was able to reclaim a little of his earlier good mood.

Driving Rae home had been a blast. He knew she was smart but he didn’t know how funny and sly she could be, she kept up with his snark and made him laugh. He’d always just grouped her in with her friends as some anxiety riddled little girl who was afraid of her own shadow, now he knew better. Raemina was one of a kind and he was entirely captivated by her. They’d both asked each other to the dance at the same time and then burst out laughing. He was surprised that she was willing to take that kind of initiative. Most girls would fling themselves into the sun before they asked a guy out, that Raemina was willing to take the first step just made him like her more. She was full of surprises and he felt like he could be with her forever and never grow bored. Whoa. He stopped that train of thought before it got too far. It was entirely too early to even be thinking about words like ‘forever,’ they weren’t even officially dating yet. If the dance went well, then maybe she’d agree to spend more time with him and they could go from there. She had also told him that she’d definitely make it to the talent show tomorrow night. Hopefully the band wouldn’t embarrass him. Since Khrome had spent the night on Salem’s half-assed revenge idea, they’d be going into the whole thing pretty rusty. It’s simple, Rhovan thought to himself as he turned off the engine and walked into his house, If Salem’s plan ruins my chances with Raemina, I’ll kill him.

By @guardians-of-las-vyxen & @yogiwithabook

#writeblr #illthdar fan fiction #au fan fiction #highschool au

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 years

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Really, Really Slow Thoughts on TRR Book 3, Chapter 3

• This QT took two days. Because my pace has been sluggish. Because my thoughts on this chapter have been sluggish.

• This chapter is the only time in the entire series that I was barely invested. That’s only ever happened to be at the beginning of Book 1, and only because I didn’t think it would amount to anything beyond a Cinderella story. I haven’t been in that space with a single chapter in this book since Book 1,Chapter 8. I’m just…bored.

• Title: Allies among Enemies. Sounds very Kenna and Luther, no? But I doubt Kenna ever had to sit and play marriage counselor to a squabbling couple.

•

Esther asking all the relevant questions.

I mean, sure, Bertrand, I get it: I need to make a tour and that involves visiting other duchies, Justin thinks Madeleine would make a bomb press secretary, and I have to play matchmaker for her parents –

Wait what. Why do I need to resolve a personal fight because Madeleine’s parents? I know it’s all about reaching out and getting allies and making connections but playing armchair therapist just sounds extremely silly.

• I like that they’re carrying over the “house colours” strategy from TCaTF. Kenna occasionally did this during alliances, especially when meeting with the Nevrakis family.

•

So I have a dress “as green as Madeleine’s envy towards me and black as her shrivelled heart” (bomb analogy, Maxwell!). Buuuut I’m taking part in a court event. A formal ball. Why is the dress style more like what I wore in the club for Madeleine’s bachelorette and Liam’s bachelor party???

• Also can you imagine how awkward waltzing would look in this dress? Ballroom dresses are long and flowy for a reason. Part of the beauty of your twirl comes from how your skirt flows when you’re turning, esp in a dance like the Cordonian Waltz where the twirl is the highlight.

• So I’m supposed to ensure Adeleide comes for the wedding. Loooogically the story should make this easier on me because I already did the hard work of winning her over the last book right? Wrong. Because the story doesn’t care. It doesn’t care which Liam I chose, whether I’ve ever worn pepto bismol in my life or not, whether I charmed the pants off Adeleide (not literally). Nope. I still have to start from scratch (wouldn’t be the first time tho. I won over Kiara and Penelope in Book 1 only for them to ditch me next book [even though Penelope knew it wasn’t my fault. You owe me big, sister]).

• Soooo Godfrey, Madeleine’s dad, is an English nobleman. His marriage to Adeleide was a political alliance and he doesn’t actually give a shit about Cordonia unless his daughter is the goddamn country’s queen.

• Hmm. So Madeleine is half Cordonian too. Jesus Christ for a country that doesn’t like foreigners very much, a lot of its major players seem to have at least one non-Cordonian parent: Liam (possibly), Madeleine, Drake, Hana…

• I was a little confused because Book 1 mentioned that Madeleine is “practically royalty” from her father’s side - but it’s possible that’s more a hint towards his English roots. I guess we can rule him out for who the enemy is rn because this dude genuinely doesn’t give a shit.

• So Liam, whose interactions with Godfrey have been few and far between and who admits he has never really met him in a social setting, is the one who provides us inputs on how to deal with the Duke. Turns out this advice is pretty helpful, coming from someone who barely knows the man.

•

Savour this moment, Liam stans. This - and the “we need to avoid this lack of crowd at our wedding” exchange, are the only times we will get to properly interact with him today.

• I know this decor looks like a piñata threw up over the ballroom but I love the purple and the soft lighting xD

• So the first event post Homecoming is super empty, which is quite dishearting. It’s enough to make even our resident bar-hopper Adeleide upset.

•

Is it just me or does “STOICISM RULEZ!!!” Regina sound like she gives zero fucks today? I mean sure it could just be her usual irritation around Adelaide but here even Constantine seems a little taken aback. And besides, it’s not the Krona duchy that needs anything from the Crown, it’s the Crown that needs something from them. Your arrogance doesn’t have any legs to stand on, Regina.

• Also idk but am I the only one getting a different vibe from Regina this book? In the debriefing meeting she wasn’t there at all, and this is someone who has been a part of every meeting we’ve seen in the books. Then she comes here, to an event where if anything SHE needs to be begging her cousin to come for her stepson’s/some random noblewoman’s wedding, and she’s busy making snappy comments about the appetizers (and let’s be honest, everyone else found their spread incredibly good. Even Drake. DRAKE)

• Madeleine’s dad is essentially Madeleine Sr.

• “Magic Friendship Dust” my ass.

• Madeleine’s reaction to this “be my press secretary” thing is “I told you so” followed by a resounding (implied) “fuck you”. What else were you expecting, Esther?

•

It’s great that they say this, but I would have preferred if they showed it. It really isn’t that hard. Show him talking independently to a noble or two (you don’t even have to show their faces) - winning some over and not managing to sway some others. The reason a lot of Liam fans are upset is that not only does the writing make weak excuses to keep him from working WITH the MC, we aren’t even given a proper glimpse of what he IS doing!

I’ll return to this point later, because I have a LOT to say 😠

• …cheeseburgers aren’t appetizers, Drake.

• I’d agree with you about the buffalo wings tho.

• Nomnom that pasta looks good.

• I’d betray me for a plate of truffled penne too, Esther.

•

Back in the essay I wrote on the Balcony Scene, I spoke of how Liam’s mother’s story seemed like a mirror to the MC’s (I mentioned that she might be a foreigner, though, and given that Neville and Drake make the comparison between the MC and her, and that her son is customizable by ethnicity, I still think there are chances that is true). Called it! xD

• Neville is still as big a creep as he ever was and this scene was extremely ugly, especially with regards to Drake. But it was also extremely powerful because the group gets to rally around and protect him, and show Neville that Drake has people who will support him no matter what. It was a scene I felt was needed because it gives you a much better idea of what Drake has had to deal with in court. (also I know he’s taking the tour coz he wants a wife [good luck getting one with THAT level of creepy, asshole!] but I’m suspicious about him following ppl he doesn’t even like around).

• This is also amazing buildup to the dancing scene. The version of the scene I got was automatically platonic, which I loved, and I got more comfortable with this scene than I have ever felt with any non-Liam-LI scene so far (you know how you keep stressing about accidental romance points? That).

• In my playthrough, Esther keeps it professional, gives him encouragement, teaches him how to glide using a mental image. Drake points out he needs to give Liam adequate support and he will need to actually prove himself to other nobles for that. As a romantic scene, it really shines (and indeed it should, given that the Cordonian waltz is primarily romantic) but it works very well on a platonic level too.

• I also really, really loved the comparison Drake made between his situation and hers: that the MC is proof that he can hold on to who he is even if he becomes a part of the nobility/has endured this much from them. Drake’s character arc is built heavily on his fear that being part of the nobility can change people, based on very valid experiences. We’ve seen in this chapter how desperately some nobles cling to their titles, almost using it to make up for their lack of personality (I’m looking at you, Neville and Godfrey). But he has proof all around him too, that you don’t need to lose who you are through a title. In a lot of ways this plays really well into his “letting go” arc as well.

• Okay so I went with Godfrey first. He’s talking to Liam, who again makes a disappearing act (I don’t mind, because the MC specifically stated she wanted to speak to the Duke alone). I’m not surprised Liam wasn’t making much headway. This is the second dude to dump Madeleine after all, and worse still he’s brother to the first dude to dump her. No wonder Liam’s sticking to safe subjects like choice of scotch!

• YIKES @ Godfrey’s constant harping of successes and defeats. Why don’t we talk about what a failure YOU are as a dad, Duke Karlington, since you’re only ever there for Madeleine to tell her what a failure she is!

• I like the exchange they show us between Adeleide and Regina before the MC steps in. Regina’s care and concern for Madeleine has pretty much been there from the beginning and for what it’s worth, it has been genuine.

• Oh man. I want to give Adeleide a hug and some champagne. I mean I don’t exactly envision her winning the “best mother” award anytime soon, but she’s trying. Perhaps a little too pushy and a little too focused on her own coping mechanisms, but still, she cares enough about Madeleine to want to be there for her no matter what. Which is more than I can say for Godfrey, who thinks being a father means paying an annual visit to his goddamn FAMILY and judges people for failing when he’s perhaps the biggest failure in the room.

• Waltz time!

• Though between Esther not having a twirly skirt and Drake having an injured shoulder I’m not sure they even looked that good.

• WTF ESTHER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU DOES THAT LOOK LIKE A MAN WHO IS IN ANY CONDITION TO MANAGE A LIFT

•

HE’S NOT JOHNY CASTLE AND THIS ISN’T DIRTY DANCING. STOP PUTTING DRAKE IN A CORNER.

• AT LEAST BABY DIDN’T MAKE JOHNY LIFT HER ON AN INJURED ARM. AND AT LEAST THEY AGREED TO DO IT TOGETHER NOT SPRUNG IT ON HIM LIKE A FUCKING JACK-IN-THE-BOX.

• “He winces at the pressure on his arm, but smiles through it”. …damn I’m angry at my own MC now.

• Drinking game time!!

• I’m not going to comment much on the scene because it’s going to be part of my group scenes essay, but I *will* say I’m so happy Hana gets her due in this one. She really shines in terms of character development in this scene and she gets the best line this whole chapter xD xD xD

•

• I think Hana has had this burn simmering in her pressure cooker ever since the bell-pepper episode in Shanghai 😂😂

• “You all know there’s more to me than liking whiskey, right?”

This is unfair and inaccurate, people. Of course there’s more. He likes cheeseburgers and pasta and greasy junk food too, cmon.

• I recall speaking not too long ago about how Madeleine and Hana had very different approaches to similar issues (family pressure, feeling like they are failures, broken engagements with men they didn’t love), and that Madeleine very possibly faced a lot of family pressure (I was wrong about the source being Adeleide, though). To me this forms part of why Hana can see Madeleine the way no one else can, and why it’s essential to have her around when Madeleine opens up.

• This doesn’t really change my opinion of Madeleine, though. It makes sense of some things, but in my mind nothing can really justify the sick pleasure Madeleine gets out of breaking people. She makes excuses for herself by calling it “not tiptoeing on other people’s fragile feelings”, but that would imply she was just being honest and not actively working towards making people feel like shit. In both Hana and Penelope’s cases she was actively working on making them feel like they were beneath her, and enjoying doing that. To me what she did, especially to Hana, was emotional abuse. Speaking ecstatically about “breaking” a human being who has harmed you in no way, is abusive. No more, no less.

• Please don’t tell me a Madeleine and Hana ship will be a thing now. No. Eww. I’d rather not pair Hana with someone who was actively trying to break her. I don’t care how much of a “crush” Madeleine seems to have.

• No matter how misguided Adeleide’s attempts to parent Madeleine are, to me she clearly wins the parenting stakes hands down. She may have made Madeleine feel like she couldn’t mourn what happened to her, but at least she views her daughter as more of a human being than a prize horse.

•

Didn’t lie to get her way? Was saying “I’m allergic to chocolate and you could have killed me” just a figment of my imagination then???

•

• You have to be fucking kidding me. The MC is a duchess now. The Beaumonts are supposed to be helping her. These three should be at the top of their itinerary right now, not throwing things together at the last minute every chapter. Isn’t this Unity Tour supposed to be about knowing your allies and enemies, and preparing accordingly? Being unprepared (somehow, barely) made sense to some extent in the first two books, but things are different now.

• Penelope next week! That woman owes us big time.

General Thoughts on this Chapter:

• Things I feel might come up in Penelope’s estate:

1. Penelope’s anxiety and her parents’ fears about sending her back to court

2. Personal issues within the family maybe? Perhaps Penelope’s desire to take up pet couture designing and her mother’s disapproval of the same might feature.

3. At some point there may be some sort of redemption arc for her where she gets reminded of her involvement in what happened to the MC earlier. Penelope clearly owes the MC a great debt for letting her off the hook so easily.

4. I’ll be damned if I have to play therapist for these people too 😠

• This whole idea of “meddling” is stupid. These people are adults. Grown people, who should be expected to know how to handle their own lives and talk to each other. The royalty/the MC shouldn’t be expected to babysit them. That’s not what we came here for.

• It stings even more when you take into account that the common public is feeling pretty terrified at the moment, and having their own, and here we are busy resolving the family squabbles of rich people.

• It highlights even more strongly what’s wrong with the whole idea of a Unity Tour. I’m hoping this “resolving-aristocrat-issues” thing won’t become a pattern because it’s beginning to look ridiculous.

• @ladynevrakis mentions in her excellent write-up on this week’s chapter that this chapter is a lot better if you’re a non-Liam shipper, and extremely frustrating if you are.

Correct on both counts. As the MC you’re just starting out as a noblewoman, and you will need all the support you can get. If you’re with Drake (especially Drake), Hana or Maxwell, you get plenty opportunities for support from all of them. With Liam, you barely get a few lines here and there before he’s completely MIA. There is no opportunity for Liam or his fiancee to talk properly, or work together as a team. And this house is unquestionably the toughest one, so why does the writing not give Liam any chance to truly be there for her when she needs it???

• I can understand why he wasn’t there for the most part. In the Neville sequence he isn’t there precisely because the writers need to highlight how people treat Drake when Liam isn’t around (and to show what people say about Liam behind his back), and there is no way you could have Liam around in either the group scene or the final scene with the family without making things worse (daughter’s former fiancè, hello?). Plus if the MC is not engaged to him, it would look weird for him to be present at some of these conversations.

STILL, there were a whole range of ways you could write him without him actually being involved in the patch-up, and still do justice to his character:

1. Eat with the group: The group eating scene could have been a perfect time to have Liam come, speak about his progress with convincing ppl, bond with the group over the delicious spread, and leave before Neville enters.

2. Check in periodically: Liam is my MC’s fiancè. They are here together on their first tour as a couple. They’re doing this tour for his people and his country. She is a newcomer and it is essential he has her back. It wouldn’t have hurt to have him come in on occasion and ask her how she is holding up. It wouldn’t have taken more than a scene or two, really, and it could have worked perfectly both on a neutral and romantic level. If you’re going to make Drake such a huge presence in this chapter that you’d go the extra mile and write him two ways, you can very well do the same for Liam. It’s even more essential in his case because he is the King of Cordonia and pretty damn invested in making this tour work.

3. Have the MC notice what Liam was doing independent of her: The writing team is no stranger to writing conversations that don’t involve the MC’s presence at all. We know Liam was spending time speaking to the few nobles in attendance, but we’re never shown how he does this or whether he succeeds. I know he’s as hard at work as the MC is, but I don’t see what he’s doing. Could you really blame readers for thinking he is less involved, then?

4. The Little Things: A gentle touch here, a smile there if he’s your fiancè. Things you would do with your partner when you don’t have much time together but still want to show them they care.

It’s not like the writers don’t know how to involve Liam. They’ve done a really good job of this in the past. The entire social season saw Liam working behind the scenes to ensure the MC was protected and cared for, even when he couldn’t be involved. The engagement tour had him pitching in to help whenever it didn’t seem too suspicious to. In all these instances they kept in mind Liam’s role and limitations, and STILL managed to make him proactive.

The writers had plenty opportunity this chapter to have Liam be there for her in small ways, but hardly bothered to involve him. I appreciate wanting to make his interactions as neutral as possible but that doesn’t mean you don’t put any effort into writing him at all.

To add insult to serious injury, this chapter follows another one where the MC practically takes over Liam’s speech (post the video), leaving Liam with little space to do anything besides agreeing with her. It’s essential - now more than ever - to portray Liam as decisive and proactive, yet the writing has him take 10 steps backwards in terms of character development. The MC is his fiancèe/close friend now. She should be able to see him properly as a politician and a leader at this point. If that doesn’t get resolved soon, we’re in danger of screwing up an interesting character who has a lot of potential.

• I’m still holding out on this book, because it’s still early and I believe they can turn things around and ensure there is a fair balance between the LIs. They are taking what we say into consideration and they have worked hard to make our other LIs’ interactions with us as safe and platonic as possible. I think this is a matter of balance, and I still think they can manage to do a good job of it once they ensure there is a balance.

• But this chapter? I’m not going pretend I’m happy.

#the royal romance #liam x mc #king liam of cordonia #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #countess madeleine of fydelia #duchess adeleide of krona #duke godfrey of karlington #trr quick thoughts #quick thoughts #unity tour #fydelia #krona

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anakinsbugs · 3 years

Text

The Blogfather

New Post has been published on https://walrusvideo.com/the-blogfather/

The Blogfather

He wasn’t an Arsenal fan, but he was at the 1971 FA Cup final. I wasn’t born yet (I didn’t arrive until September of that double winning year), but he saw Charlie George score that winner and lie flat on his back on the Wembley turf to celebrate.

Like so many of his generation, he came to England from Ireland to find work in the late 1950s, and I’m sure my love of football came from him. There was always a ball, always a kick-around in the garden, or on the front lawn of the castle we lived in for a while (honestly, it was a castle).

Back then you could just go to a football match. Rock up on a Saturday, and pay your way into the ground depending on who was at home. He lived and worked in West London, and nominally he was a Fulham fan. He loved Johnny Haynes, but he was a huge admirer of Jimmy Greaves too. He liked players who could do things with both feet, and he went to matches all over the city, just because he could.

Some of my earliest memories are of him playing football. He started life as a forward (like my brother), but by the time I came along and he was togging out for the village team in Bishopthorpe (near York), he’d moved back to centre-half (where I played my whole life). I’d stand on the sidelines with my mam. I don’t remember the games or the performances, just the fact that I was there and so was he.

He was pretty strict when we were young. I think it was because he had very clear ideas about what young men should and shouldn’t do. They should look smart, for example, and definitely not wear jeans. They really shouldn’t watch Grange Hill, because those children were basically juvenile delinquents and didn’t respect figures of authority sufficiently.

He worked a lot though, so it was often drive-by stuff. He spent most his working life in the hospitality industry – bars, restaurants, hotels. Long hours, late nights.

Once, in the back garden, I was winding my brother up, as big brothers do. He reached breaking point and unleashed a wave of expletives that would have made a sailor blush. Dad, probably trying to get a bit of rest upstairs, heard everything, stuck his head out the bedroom window and it was the most trouble any little boy has ever been in before or since. I felt bad, and I bought Tim some Cadbury’s Creme Eggs to say sorry.

In 1996 he was away on a golf trip in Spain and fell ill. Cardiomyopathy. The prognosis was not good. He needed a heart transplant. In the mists of time it feels like it happened quickly, but it didn’t. He spent months and months gravely unwell, in and out of hospital, but in the end they took his actual heart out and put someone else’s in.

It’s basically a miracle, isn’t it?

When you think about it, it’s absolutely crazy, but as I said at his eulogy, it changed his life and it saved his life. He became a fierce advocate for organ donation. He helped found the Irish Heart and Lung Transplant Association, and he went onto to chair the European Heart and Lung Transplant Federation. He wanted to ensure as many people as possible could benefit from the incredible medical advancements, and the work carried out by doctors and transplant teams.

As you might imagine, that kind of thing gives you a new perspective on life. He was certainly mellower post-transplant, but it coincided with us reaching a stage of adult life where your relationship with your parents changes anyway. We did a lot of stuff together. Golf, pints, dinners, holidays, even the Arsenal.

I don’t know if the trip we took to London was specifically to see a game, or if it coincided with something else, but he came with me to the Emirates to see us play in the Champions League. We played PSV and a late goal from on-loan Chelsea defender Alex saw us crash out. Not exactly a stellar night on the pitch, but it was still a good one off it. We had post-game pints in The Tollington, he met many of the Arseblog crew, and he often talked about how much he enjoyed it.

He loved Arseblog and what it became. He’d read most days. He’d say ‘Some of those chaps on the Arses are a bit fruity, aren’t they?!’. He even listened to a podcast, impressed and somewhat astonished with how often, and with such variation, Ian Wright said my name.

He hadn’t been well for a couple of weeks. I took him to the doctors on February 1st. She told me she was worried about his kidneys. Years of anti-rejection and immuno-suppressant drugs take their toll. Blood test results came back that afternoon. He needed to be in hospital.

I remember him waving to us from the ambulance before it pulled away, his big overcoat pulled tightly around him on a cold evening. Over the next couple of weeks he was treated for the infection, he was getting there, but slowly.

On Monday February 15th I got a phone call from a doctor. He’d been unwell, so they ran more tests. One of them was for Covid-19. It came back positive. We spent a year doing everything we could to keep him safe during the pandemic, and somehow he picked it up in the Coronary Care Unit of a hospital.

Yet over the next week, he didn’t really develop any of the major symptoms. On Monday February 22nd he called from his bed, we spoke about him coming home. He couldn’t wait to get back to his chair, in front of the fire, to watch golf and CNN. We wondered how strong he’d be, what care he might need. How we might have to adapt the house. Downstairs bedroom, stairlift, that kind of thing.

Then … day 10. Covid hit.

Did you ever get winded? It’s scary, isn’t it? Those few seconds where you can’t catch your breath. Imagine that all the time. He needed oxygen, then more oxygen, then all the oxygen it’s possible to give someone.

We were lucky in that we were allowed in to see him. We got to talk to him. That will always be a comfort, but seeing your dad on his own in a six bed ward, surrounded by and attached to machines, struggling to breathe is brutal. You want to help somehow, but you can’t.

We were clad in so much PPE, gown, masks, goggles, gloves, that he thought we were doctors at first. Maybe that’s why he told ‘them’ he didn’t want to die in hospital.

He died in hospital … in the early hours of March 2nd.

He’d been through so much. The heart transplant, he beat a lung cancer situation, he had an ongoing prostate cancer situation, but he couldn’t beat this. He was 84 and he’d lived a good life, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see someone you love die like that.

I’m not going to preach to anyone, but I can only urge you to be cautious. I know we’re all fed up with restrictions and life being the way it is. I know there is light at the end of the tunnel as vaccines are being rolled out, but this virus is still out there and it’s still dangerous. The most vulnerable among us are still loved and cherished family members and friends. Please don’t lose sight of that amid frustration, we all have a responsibility to each other. Someone’s age or their underlying condition doesn’t make them expendable.

Be careful. Look after each other. Each one of those statistics released daily is a real person, with many more left behind. Wash your hands. Wear a mask – at worst it’s a mild inconvenience, at best it saves lives, maybe even your own. Get the vaccine when you can.

My daughter, who I haven’t seen in person for over a year now, couldn’t get home for her grandad’s funeral. The funeral at which only ten people were allowed. That’s not how we do things in Ireland. There was no wake, no telling of stories about the one just gone. The laughs you have at events like that seem incongruous to the situation, but they’re a big part of how get through it.

Like so many other families over this last 12 months, we were apart at a time when we needed to be together. Just a couple of weeks previously my big cousin Adrian, a Gooner and only a few years older than I am, was taken by Covid too. He wasn’t elderly, he wasn’t high risk. I had to ring my dad in hospital and tell him, and while the staff in there were so lovely, he had nobody to share that grief with in person.

The support mechanisms we have in place to cope with things like this aren’t there any more. There are very obvious impacts of Covid on our lives, but there are malingering ones which I don’t think we’ll come to understand for some time yet.

Whatever nurses are paid, they deserve twice that, and more. They are amazing. They don’t need to be clapped, they need to be paid properly. You might not need them now, so perhaps they don’t register, but there will come a time when you will, and they will be amazing for you and your family too.

They shouldn’t have to fight for the compensation they deserve. We should be fighting for them. We should be angry on their behalf. Fight for healthcare.

Pay them properly.

My dad was an amazing man. Really funny, kind, generous, a good person who was the linchpin of our family, and we’re going to miss him terribly. He was well cool too, I mean, look at that 1960s shades/rollneck action he had going on.

I’m experiencing a lot of emotions right now, and it’s going to take some time to process, as they say. Today though, I just want to remember him in a positive way. A man who had a huge influence on who am I, someone who – when I think of him – makes me smile.

It’s absolutely shit he’s not going to be around anymore, and the circumstances of his passing were deeply unpleasant. It’s been a really rough few weeks, to be honest. However, he gave me the strength to get through this, and on this Arsenal blog I’m gonna take the owner’s privilege and set myself up with a tap-in to finish.

Love you Dad, and as a wise man once said, you were f*ckin’ excellent.

The post The Blogfather appeared first on Arseblog … an Arsenal blog.

The Article The Blogfather First Appeared ON : https://arsenalweb.co.uk

The Article The Blogfather First Appeared ON : https://gqcentral.co.uk

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Go to Source Author: Goldie

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megatraven · 6 years

Note

♚ for chlolyanette (hey meggi ily how are you (my discord is down :( ))

♚: Soulmates have birthmarks that signify where their soulmate will first touch them

This is old now, I’m so sorry :’) Hi Lib i love u sm im ok how’re you? also this got longer than I thought it would sorry frgtrffdg

AO3

Chloe Bourgeois did not like Marinette Dupain-Cheng, not from the moment she laid eyes on her. Or maybe she did like her, but feelings were complicated and Chloe was jealous over how well-liked Marinette was.

Maybe that’s why she ignored Marinette’s gasp when the first thing Chloe did was get up in her face, pointing at her so intensely that her finger touched the very tip of Marinette’s nose. Maybe that’s why she refused to acknowledge the birthmark sitting on her finger, or the one that balanced on Marinette’s nose.

No, instead of stopping and staring because, at the great age of 10, she had met her soulmate, she instead chose to tell Marinette to stay away from her and stomped away.

She was too young to know what she had done would hurt.

But in the following years, she learned of that pain and heartache.

When she and Marinette were 14, Alya Cesaire joined their class. Chloe being Chloe, she didn’t pay any mind to the new girl. In fact, she didn’t even bat an eyelash at seeing her enter the room. The only thing that caught her attention was the large birthmark on her wrist, which Chloe instantly grabbed onto when Alya had tried sitting next to her.

She glared and shook her head at the new girl, whose brows were drawn together in confusion until Sabrina came in and sat where she had tried to.

“Oh. Didn’t know you were saving the seat, sorry.”

“Whatever. Just sit somewhere else,” Chloe muttered, letting go of Alya’s wrist before returning her attention to her phone.

She didn’t look back up until Alya walked away to sit in the front row, the birthmark on her palm tingling.

She almost missed it, when she laughed over Marinette tripping down the stairs. But it was unmistakable- Alya, who had a second birthmark on the hand opposite the wrist Chloe had touched, grabbed Marinette’s arm, below the sleeve, and helped her to her feet.

Both stared at one another for a long moment before breaking into smiles and introductions.

Chloe hid her disappointment and ignored the sadness in her heart by focusing on Adrien, who hadn’t yet come to class like he was supposed to.

And, when he didn’t show up at all, she promised herself that that was the only reason she started to tear up.

Alya sided with Marinette over her.

After her first encounter with Ladybug, and following their many encounters after that one, Chloe often searched herself for a third birthmark on her back.

She’d checked mirrors after mirrors, had taken pictures with her phone and a selfie stick, and even told her butler to check again. And again. And again.

But, there was no birthmark on her back, where Ladybug first held her when Stoneheart had thrown her to her from the Eiffel Tower.

“Check again, Jean Baptiste,” she commanded, crossing her arms and turning around for him.

With a sigh, her butler did as she told, and repeated what he’d already told her a hundred timed. “There is nothing there, mademoiselle.”

Chloe squared her shoulders and bit her lip, refusing to let the tears in her eyes fall.

“Check. Again,” she whispered, voice shaking.

He did.

But nothing was there.

Getting her miraculous was the best thing to happen to Chloe since meeting Adrien when she was a little kid.

Not only did she get to work alongside Ladybug, who was amazing and kind and an inspiration, despite not being Chloe’s soulmate, but she also gained a chance to get closer to Marinette and Alya both.

Her first opportunity to do so came when she was just quick enough to whisk Marinette out of an akuma’s path. She zigged and zagged around buildings until she was sure she’d lost the akuma before setting Marinette down.

“You alright there?” she asked, nervous but not backing down.

“Thanks to you, I am! I really appreciate it,” Marinette answered with a smile.

“Um, right, o-of course! Anytime you need saving, I’ll totally be here!” Queen Bee exclaimed, wincing at how she sounded. But then Marinette laughed, just a bit, and suddenly she didn’t care so much. “Well, stay out of trouble! I gotta buzz!”

Not waiting for a response, she stepped away and flew off, back towards the akuma with her heart hammering in her chest for reasons unrelated to the monster that nearly swatted her down when she arrived back on the scene.

The next opportunity came when Alya approached her for an interview.

She was far less nervous talking to Alya than she had been talking with Marinette- maybe because her history with Marinette went further back, and wasn’t any better.

“Oh, man, thank you so much for agreeing to do this! You’ve been around for like, a month and I’ve barely gotten any good pictures because you’re always flying too fast- speaking of which, that’s so cool that you can fly!” Alya exclaimed, bouncing in place just a little.

“You’re right, it is pretty cool,” Queen Bee said, sitting up straighter and puffing her chest out proudly. “Not even Ladybug can fly yet.”

“I bet it really comes in handy, right? What’s been your best use of it so far?”

Chloe thought about it for a moment and tapped her fingers to her chin.

“Well… I think it’ll have to be that I saved one of my soulmates from an akuma.”

“Really? Can I ask how you know they’re your soulmate? How do birthmarks work around the magic of a miraculous?”

“I know because I’ve met them before, out of the suit. And I don’t know. That’s more a question you should be asking Ladybug or Chat Noir, not the newbee,” she said with a laugh.

“That’s fair.” Alya nodded to herself and wrote something down on a notepad. Queen Bee watched her ever move, knowing this wasn’t something she could do as Chloe.

“Alright then, so…”

A few weeks later, Ladybug answered the question Alya had asked Queen Bee first.

“The magic masks all traces of birthmarks to ensure our secret identities. For example: I’ve got one neck-up, but you can’t tell where or how big.”

Chloe reached for her laptop’s screen-

“And yes, I’ve already met my-”

-and slapped it down against the keyboard, cutting Ladybug’s words off.

She didn’t really want to hear them.

Eventually, when Hawk Moth was defeated and Le Paon rose to be top villain, the miraculous team of three became a team of four, Rena Rouge being added into the mix.

Chloe wasn’t a fan, at first, but slowly their friendship grew, just like it had between Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Queen Bee.

All four of them would crack jokes together, and they would double up on patrols where games of tag and i-spy would take place until it was time to go home. But even then, sometimes they would stay out later than they had to, just to talk and share little details of their lives.

On rarer occassions, Chloe would leave her room, on nights she didn’t have patrol, and just fly above the city awhile.

The wind in her face, the freedom from all the shackles she had placed on herself, the feeling of falling mixed with trust that she would never crash and burn.

It was everything she needed to feel better.

Sometimes, she would see Marinette and Alya having their sleepovers, and would wish on every light in the city that she could join them.

Chloe’s school life had turned around awhile after becoming Queen Bee.

It hadn’t happened over night, and it’d taken a lot of work, but she made herself a better person, one people would be proud to call friend, and one that people would accept if they figured out who she was.

But most importantly, she became the kind of person who could apologize, and see her mistakes for what they were.

She was a better person, no doubt about it.

“But I can still be more,” Chloe would preach to her reflection in the mornings.

With a determined nod, she would finish putting on her lipstick and head to school.

A scream ripped from her lungs when Ladybug jumped into Le Paon’s path.

Queen Bee had already been prepared to take the hit, to protect Alya who’d gotten caught up in it all.

But no, Ladybug stepped in and saved them both, bought Queen Bee enough time to fly Alya away even as she was blinded by her own tears. When Alya was safe, she didn’t stick around for silly banter like normal.

No, as soon as Alya’s feet touched the ground, Queen Bee was gone, rushing back to the fight and freezing when she saw Chat Noir, crouched over an unmoving Ladybug, the only thing between her and Le Paon.

She saw red- blood, dripping from the cuts across Ladybug’s torso and down her; Ladybug’s suit, torn; Le Paon’s wicked gaze, the eyes of her suit staring into their souls; Rena Rouge, arriving late and freezing just as she had.

She saw red, and suddenly everything was a blur.

Paris celebrated the fall of Le Paon that night.

Chloe, Alya, and Adrien were in the hospital, waiting to hear about Marinette.

“You did really great, you know,” Marinette coughed out when she finally woke up. “Always knew you’d bee the best.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Chloe’s lips at that. “Stop being silly. You need to rest up and get better. School is dreadfully boring without you around.”

“We don’t have any classes together.”

“So?”

“You make a great argument.”

“Of course I do, I’ve been arguing since I was in diapers.”

“That sounds about right,” Marinette laughed, wincing at the pain it caused.

“Oh! Here, let’s call the nurse. And I’ll call Alya and Adrien and your parents so they can come see you.”

“Thanks, Chloe.”

“I get to go home in two days!” Marinette announced when Chloe, the last one to arrive, walked through the door.

“Wait, seriously? You’re not joking?” Alya asked, excitement creeping into her voice.

“If you think my joking’s that bad then I’m offended,” she teased, laughing when Alya practically launched herself into Marinette’s waiting arms.

Adrien smiled brightly at the scene and sat on the edge of the bed. “So you’re all good, health-wise?” he asked.

Voice muffled by Alya’s shoulder, she answered, “Yep! They’re just keeping me over for observation now, and if no more problems come up, I’m home free.”

“That’s great to hear!”

“Yeah, you must be really excited to get out of this drab place,” Chloe commented, holding her head high.

“Oh, totally. Everything here is white, white, white. I miss my pink walls, pink bed, pink curtains, pink-”

“We get it, you like pink,” she deadpanned.

Alya snorted as she finally pulled away.

“Don’t be like that, Chlo. Pink is the perfect color for our girl right here, and you know it.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t, but- did you say our?” Chloe asked, catching the way Alya had said the word as if it was meant for her.

Marinette and Alya exchanged a subtle glance, and had Chloe not been looking between them she would’ve missed it.

“Adrien, would you be a dear and go get us something to eat? Sneak Mari up something too.”

“You got it,” he replied, patting Chloe’s shoulder on his way out.

As soon as he left, the tension in the room grew twofold, only breaking when Chloe finally spoke.

“Really?“ she whispered, staring at them and just daring to hope.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come around since I gave you your miraculous,” Marinette admitted.

“And I thought you’d at least say something when you started being nicer to everyone.”

“I thought-” she swallowed down the lump in her throat- “I thought I’d lost my chances.”

“If you thought that,” Alya started.

“Then let us offer you a new one,” Marinette finished.

Both held out a hand to her, and unable to spend a second more apart from them, Chloe leaped forward and pulled them into a hug, ignoring the makeup that ran down her cheeks as she cried, sobbing into the shoulders of her soulmates.

A few days later, and after multiple talks with the school principal and her counselor, Chloe walked into class and sat down right between Alya and Marinette.

After all, she had a lot of catching up to do.

#miraculous ladybug #chlolyanette #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain-cheng #alya césaire #queen b #ladybug #rena rouge #my fic #sadwefrgfed idk how i Feel about this but that's ok

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projectmedusarp · 7 years

Text

Here is the second of our admin auditions. Jessica will be playing the role of Thalia Winsor, taking the power of Healing Touch.

NAME: Jessica

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: GMT

PRONOUNS: She / Her

ACTIVITY LEVEL: My activity time will be limited to weekday evenings and weekends. Given that I’ll also be admining that may also mean that my activity isn’t daily for replies. I will always aim to post something of substance, reply to starters etc. whenever I’m online and will frequent the OOC blog too.

PREVIOUS ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: I’ve been roleplaying for 13 / 14 years on a number of different platforms. I’ve been roleplaying on Tumblr for about 6 years and hosted a multitude of literate roleplays too. In the last year I’ve also gotten into cos-roleplay alongside literate roleplaying.

PERSONAL TUMBLR CONTACT: Link Removed

TRIGGERS: Rape // Self Harm // Abuse etc.

CHARACTER: Thalia Winsor

PRONOUNS: She / Her

AGE: 28

FACE CLAIM: Sarah Gadon

POWER: Healing Touch

QUOTE: “I’m through with accepting limits ‘cause someone else says they’re so. Somethings I cannot change, but until I try I’ll never know.”

PERSONALITY:

Compassionate: Thalia is a gentle soul and greatly cares for people. She is greatly sympathetic and tries her best to help those who need it most. Whether it’s in her day to day work as a nurse or just trying to assist those she’s encountered since going on the run. She is kind and well meaning in most aspects of her life, the thought of putting herself first when there are those who need it more is one often overlooked.

Sincere: She’s honest, sometimes to a fault. If she gives a compliment or opinion it stems from genuine beliefs she holds, equally if she’s critical her words aren’t often softened by sugar coating it. Thalia is a terrible liar and struggles with deception, both attempting it and when it’s done to her. She greatly dislikes those who lie without a guilty conscious.

Well Mannered: Soft spoken and polite, she uses dulcet tones and polite compliments to diffuse an otherwise awkward situation. She was brought up with a silver spoon in her mouth and as such was forced to adhere to a strict set of rules surrounding etiquette. This was only enhanced during her training as a nurse and now her bedside manner is impeccable. She sometimes when meaning those with lesser manners, not quite knowing how to engage or communicate as effectively as she might like.

Insecure: Psychologists would deem her childhood, riddled with moments where she was told she wasn’t good enough, as the main factor in her insecurities. Though in truth Thalia has never helped herself out of the spiral either. She is very self conscious of both her appearance and achievements in life. The way others perceive her is very important because the way she perceives herself is often very negatively. Whilst her insecurity fuels her worse habits, it is also a one of the main reasons she tries her best to be a good person.

Passive: She is non-confrontational to an extreme fault. When flight or fight kicks in she will almost always run away from a situation. This carries over into less extreme moments of her life too; failing to stick up for herself, people pleasing, resenting those more assertive and bottling up feelings in favour of ensuring others aren’t hurt.

Envious: Thalia is often resentful of those who have what she does not; a happy family unit, the attention of someone she is attracted to, the ability to be assertive or fight when the moment calls for it. Whilst she often admires the good traits in others she also finds herself dwelling on them too, wishing she herself could hold them. Her insecurities are fed by her envious nature and the vicious cycle continues to battle on behind her pretty smile.

BIOGRAPHY: Thalia has only lived alone in New York city for 18 months. Prior to that she was rooming in dorms at New York University and went home during the holidays. Her knowledge of the city is limited at best as her years studying for a nursing degree left her with little free time, and her job left her with even less. Her studio apartment, luxurious by most standards, is a far cry away from the white paneled manor back in Suffolk County that she called home for most of her life. In truth she had never felt more right than the moment she took a job in the inner city and the keys to the tiny apartment, much to her parents disapproval.

Her parents were affluent enough to fund both private school and pay her college tuition, though this is were their generosity stopped. Neither her mother or father were the affectionate type and between her overly critical, cold mother and harsh, short tempered father her relationship with them is strained at best. Her aunt, whom she was closest to above all else, was her only anchor at home but coinciding with Thalia’s permanent move to the Big Apple she left to travel. Severing all ties with Suffolk, her parents and the stuffy country club she spent far too many weekends at.

To say she knows little about New York is an understatement. Her years studying left her with little free time and her now full time position leaves her with even less. Wonky working hours makes for an unactive social life. However she’s managed to find a foothold for her most beloved of passions; dancing, in a quant dancing studio a few blocks away from her apartment. The installation of a new vending machine there is actually what lead Thalia to consume the tonic water, regularly. For the first few weeks she wasn’t seen without a bottle in her bag, she even got into the habit of toting around the bottle at the nursing station.

Then the changes happened, nothing overtly flashy at first - no breaking the bathroom sink with super strength or flying in her sleep. In fact for the first two weeks it was hard for Thalia to notice her powers at all. Whilst the patients she visited and helped tend to were recovering, she had no reason to suspect it was anything other than the medicine the doctors had prescribed. One morning she was carrying out her morning rounds, her first stop of the day was with an elderly gentlemen known well by the nurses and doctors alike in the ward. He was a terminal case, or so they thought. One gentle pat on the shoulder from Thalia as she moved to fluff his pillows and ask about his nights sleep and his eyes lit up. He removed the breathing apparatus, much to her horror, and looked around the room as shocked and bewildered as she did. The tests over the next 3 days confirmed the impossible. He was cured and on the mend.

It was following this incident that Thalia started to piece the clues together and began experimenting. It was also in this time that others took notice, a building full of extremely intelligent people wouldn’t have taken long to string together the fact that all the patients recovering in miraculous ways were all tended to by the same person. Thalia had become careless in her attempts to help and explore her new gifts. The disappearances of people deemed ‘crazy’ by local news, one man believed he could fly whilst the other had declared he could change appearances, caught her attention. If others like her were going missing then surely she would be next.

The letter through her mailbox at the end of the week sparked her need to leave. The board was calling on her attendance to an ‘unofficial meeting of standards and practices’ and the red flags shot up. In her paranoia she packed her valuables, changes of clothes and everything else she could reasonably carry, and fled. Her missing persons report went up along the dozens of others, the trend in missing people has risen and she’s smart enough to know it’s not a coincidence.

Strange men in suits always seem to be just a few days behind her, Thalia never was exactly an expert at going on the run, and her safe houses have been all but burnt out. She is staying on the lookout for others now like her who might need her help in running too and trying to figure out the exact mystery behind the events that have completely changed her life.

HEADCANONS:

Dancing Queen - Thalia has always been an avid fan of dancing, whether it be basic ballroom, jazz or something more contemporary. Since moving to the city she’s had the opportunity to sign up to various classes in her free time to expand her passion. On the rare nights she goes out, it’s usually with the intention to find a fun place to go dancing.

Sleeping Beauty - Working at a hospital often leads to a wonky sleep schedule, but Thalia always had a tendency to sleep until noon on her days off long before her time in scrubs. She’s a heavy sleeper naturally and often unhappy to be woken up for anything short of an emergency.

Alcohol Intolerance - She’s just simply never enjoyed the taste of alcohol. Her aversion to drinking has only been bolstered by the fact she’s often drunk one glass in, and no one enjoys embarrassing themselves at the start of an evening. Perhaps if she drunk more wine and less water she wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: I’ve created a Thalia aesthetic here and her blog has a short ‘about me’ page with a few extra face which is linked here.

#accepted audition #audition #accepted #admin audition #pm:admin

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motherstarkling-blog · 7 years

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Mainly for @kingslaying

Earlier I had stated that Catelyn Stark and Lysa Arryn were just Linda Belcher and Gayle - the two sisters from Bob’s Burgers. I think this is pretty accurate and I just wanted to go into a little more detail of what I meant.

First, let’s take a look at Linda. She is the very faithful husband of Bob Belcher and mother of three: Tina, Gene, and Louise. She is the type that would literally do anything for her family. Sound familiar? She works in her husband’s failing restaurant, staying by his side no matter what. Even though she herself doesn’t care all that much for the holiday, Thanksgiving is Bob’s favorite day and she lets him have it. There was an instance where Bob’s friend Teddy (a normal customer of his) has been told that his health is awful and that he needs to change his diet. Bob thinks that this is his fault for serving him burgers everyday and proceeds to have a nightmare about it. When he wakes up yelling that he’s killing Teddy, Linda calmly wakes up and plans out how they are going to get away with murder. That’s right, she’s ride or die.

As for her investment in her children, she has various things for each child that goes above and beyond that of what most mothers would do. For her oldest, Tina, she has always allowed her to express herself, even through erotic fan fiction and erotic friend fiction. She was very supportive of her when she wanted to work for the school news station. She helped move some money around when Tina wanted to go to horse camp for the summer. And while Tina was at horse camp, she created a restaurant camp for Gene and Louise so that they could have some sort of camp experience. Linda pretty much tried to become a cheerleader when Gene joined the squad and attempted to sell some of her porcelain babies to pay for Gene to go to baseball camp. When Louise couldn’t find a haunted house that scared her, Linda and the rest of the family worked to put together a haunted house to scare her. When Louise got in trouble at school for sticking up for another kid, Linda snuck her out of in school suspension and took her out for icecream.

Linda is very loyal to her family, just as Catelyn is to her family. Catelyn stood by Ned’s side no matter what he did and traveled thousands of miles to warn him of danger to try and keep him and the girls safe. She took Tyrion prisoner when she thought he was the one who had tried to kill Bran. Catelyn did the jobs that most women of her position would leave for the servants of the house, such as brushing and fixing their daughter’s hair and breastfeeding. Catelyn followed her son into war and died with him. She let go a prisoner of war because even though it would get her into grave trouble, she knew that it was the only way to ensure the safety of her daughters. And growing up, just like Linda, she had to take care of her siblings Lysa and Edmure.

A lot like Lysa, Gayle is unstable. She unhinges at the slightest things. In one episode we saw her freak out because Bob dropped a fork. She went through a phase of painting animal anuses, she once ate lipstick to feel red inside. Gayle lives by herself in a studio apartment with three cats and a bed covered in cardboard, foil, and plastic so that she can pretend it’s the end of the world and that it’s okay to sleep alone. She has a crush on anyone that Linda is in a relationship with.

Lysa is unstable in a different way, one in which she turns angry rather than panics. However, we do see a lot of the same sort of traits. Lysa isolates herself with her son in a place where her enemies can be thrown through a hole in the floor while Gayle isolates herself in her apartment with her cats where she pretends that the world is ending so she can be lonely and it’s not an issue. Lysa continues to breastfeed Robin (or Robert) well past the age when she should have stopped showing her need to baby him and cling onto him while also showing that she might be a little delusional. Gayle takes care of her cats as though they are her children, doing their nails, learning all of their characteristics, she talks to them as if they are people. Those cats are all she feels she really has.

One last similarity between Gayle and Lysa is the liking whoever your sister has. It’s not something that is evident with Lysa and Ned, but I do suspect that she did go through a period where she wanted Brandon. We do see her relentlessly chase after Petyr Baelish though. Petyr has fawned over her older sister for years, ever since he had arrived in Riverrun. She taunts him, telling him that Catelyn never loved him. And when she sees him with Catelyn’s daughter Sansa she goes mad with jealousy and attempts to kill Sansa. It’s this sort of twisted relationship that drove her to kill her husband Jon. When it comes to Gayle, it’s a little less intense. We see her go through a phase where she wants Bob and thinks that he is going to have an affair with her. Linda let’s it slide because she knows that once Gayle gets a little confidence that she’ll go after another man. When it looks as though it’s gone too far though, Linda pretends that she likes Dr. Yap, a dentist who has taken a liking to Gayle. As soon as Linda announces her relationship to Yap, Gayle instantly demands to have Yap back and that he is hers.

Now that might not seem like a huge trait to share, but I think it says a lot about both Lysa and Gayle. Wanting their sister’s men is not simply just wanting the men that their sisters are with. I think both of them are envious of their sister’s lives. I think Lysa is jealous that Catelyn got to marry a young man and have a big family while she was stuck with a rather old man and only had one surviving child. I think Gayle is slightly jealous that Linda has gotten married and has had kids and has truly grown up while she is living in an apartment by herself. And that jealousy thing is huge. They both have a lot that they weren’t able to do.

Knowing each of their traits I think highlights their dynamics with each other. Catelyn has cared for Lysa, and even when she returns and sees that Lysa is not stable, she still knows how to handle her. Linda is constantly taking care of Gayle, lending her money that she herself doesn’t have and making sure to include her in a lot of things and supporting her whenever she chooses to do something. Linda and Catelyn are both caretakers essentially while Gayle and Lysa are dependants. That’s the bottom line of their relationships.

#meta #game of thrones #bobs burgers #catelyn stark #lysa arryn #linda belcher #gayle #on my honor as a queue

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hentaihunblog-blog · 6 years

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Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS Episode 32

New Post has been published on https://hentaihun.com/blog/2017/12/21/yu-gi-oh-vrains-episode-32/

Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS Episode 32

This episode came out pretty late today, so I will also put a quick disclaimer: It was a long day for me, and I’m pretty tired, so I bare with me if you feel like I’m nitpicking something more than I should.

Alright team you have one job: SURVIVE!

Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. It was one of those episodes when the whole thing is more or less one hot mess. The animation quality was wonky, the pace felt off and I felt they spent unnecessary screen-time of characters we could care less about – AKA: the self-proclaimed reporters, the Pigeon and the Frog. (I still don’t understand why or HOW these two did not get absorbed already!) It also didn’t help with the way the trio meets The whole scene was so awkward and in a way felt forced. Playmaker, Onizuka and Blue Angel have never truly worked together as a team. Playmaker and Onizuka collaborated together in search for the one who carried the program to remove the virus, and that was it. We are in a situation we aren’t quite used to considering all the previous protagonists in the other series had a friend or two to work with. This time, we have these odd-balls who know almost nothing about each other (with the exception of Yuusaku who is the only one to know their true identities). And yet they are off on their own once again to fight their own battles. You could say each and every one have an ego of their own that drives their lone wolf streak. (However Onizuka is certainly more of the type who is willing to join or create a pact rather than fight on his own though.)

What surprised me the most though was the sudden emergence of Spectre, who appears to be Revolver’s right-hand man. Spectre appears when Kitamura tries to save his own skin by attempting to betray SOL Technologies and join the Hanoi Knights. Revolver knows the guy is a joke so he has Spectre deal with him. Thankfully we were spared of having to watch Kitamura’s duel against the guy, because I have little to not interest in him either. (It also helps he has been removed for the time being as he was absorbed too). Instead we will be seeing Spectre VS Blue Angel, a duel that was bound to happen.

Up until now, Spectre has been… mysterious…. but also hinted to be a creep (especially in regards to Blue Angel). Whenever we saw him, he was a man of a few words, or none at all, or his appearance would be extremely brief. Now in action, Spectre is showing his true colors and just how twisted this guy is (aka: Psycho). When you compare him to the likes of Faust and Baira, both who showed us their humane side, it is quite alarming how little regard he has for others. But the strangest part is how he claims he is a fan of Blue Angel, yet he said she was a “lowly idol” in comparison to Revolver who he holds in high regards. Hearing that, made me confused and wonder if he is actually an “ANTI” Blue Angel Fan.

As result we are now in for a rather unexpected Master Duel between Spectre and Blue Angel. It appears they will be using this duel to provide us more backstory in regards to Aoi’s past and what inspired her to go with the name she carries now. I do look forward to this considering we haven’t had the chance to learn more about her past through her own character. Everything we have seen up till now has been through another character’s backstory (Akira’s). However at the same time, I am anxious of what the outcome of the battle will be. I am torn between who I want to one: On one hand, I would hate it if Blue Angel falls here and pays the price for the loss, likewise for Onizuka. But on the other hand, I really want a threatening villain, so in order for that to happen, they have to make him powerful enough to not only be responsible for defeating Blue Angel, but also Onizuka, and then challenging Playmaker before he has the chance to fight Revolver.

But at the same time, I am hoping we will actually get to see the Hanoi Knight’s plans play out and they do destroy the world’s network, or at least damage it in some way or form. Or perhaps Ai will do something that will change the kind of impact it was originally planned to have (one I can see very likely to happen in order to ensure the group’s or at least Playmaker’s survival). There is a variety of options they could roll with, and it doesn’t matter which one they go with so as long as we can see what could happen if Playmaker were to fail. It’s so, so, SO LONG OVERDUE and the stakes could not be higher.

Last week the tower reminded me of Tartarus, but I was wayyyy off the mark. Until this week, I didn’t know about the concept of the Tower of Hanoi. Once it was mentioned in the episode about the legend, I looked it up to see if I was missing something. Sure enough I was. The more you know, am I right?

So here is how Revolver and Dr. Kogami intend to use it:

The underground Erasing System: The shape will create 6 rings, and create 1 ring/hour.

The Core will release high density to external networks and it will effect everything beyond VRAINS

Records, Programs connected to the network will vanish, power-plants, hospitals will also be effected. The result will be catastrophic world wild, forcefully dragging Humanity will return to the age of no technology.

Basically it’s an EMP Weapon, and Ai will be erased.

Ultimate Goal: Destruction of the Worlds Network (they weren’t kidding, they are flipping ambitious!)

Since the Hanoi Knights have completely taken over Link VRAINS, SOL Technology have issued a statement they enacted an Emergency Shutdown of VRAINS to prevent users from logging in. However despite their claim, users can still log in. It’s hard to say whether or not SOL Technologies really did try to shut it down, but simply cannot because Link VRAINS has been hijacked. On one hand, they waited way too long and should have done this like at least ten episodes sooner, or they want to leave it open. But while SOL Technology is a shady little shit, right now all eyes are on the Hanoi Knights, and its more than likely Revolver deliberately made it so (stupid) users can still log in and not only contribute to their grand scheme by being sacrificed, but also to enable Playmaker to come after him.

With that it’s a wrap! I hope everyone has a safe and lovely holiday this weekend!