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#his and my relationship was so strained during the worst of the ex
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Getting annoyed with myself because I'm looking for validation for breaking up with my ex YET AGAIN
#it's probably because we're coming up to a year post breakup#like not super soon I guess but end of next month#idk like#yes they absolutely did treat me like shit#but did I overreact?#the answer is very much no#bc again#they treated me like absolute fucking garbage#but we had known each other for fourteen years#I guess in my mind I should have kept going because we had been making it work for so long#but like they literally tried to steal my then fiancé now husband#his and my relationship was so strained during the worst of the ex#but now he and I are better than ever so I won#maybe I need to find and reblog that post I made about them#just to like... prove to myself that yes it really really really REALLY was that bad#my husband saw it my work mom saw it my wife saw it my friends all saw it#but I feel like for every bad thing about them I said out loud there were three more bad things I didn't share#so anything I've posted literally isn't even the half of it#James is reminding me that it was literally soul sucking bc I was soooooooooooo miserable every moment around them#plus nothing else should matter except they didn't even respect the ONE boundary I set for them for the time they lived with me#all I asked was please don't use my desk bc that's the only thing that's mine until you move out#my desk is where I do my arts and crafts so it's always got some sort of supplies or materials on it#stuff that ya know is pretty important to me#guess how I found them one night. guess.#sitting at my fucking desk with a bowl of fucking ramen playing their stupid fucking computer#LITERALLY THE ONLY BOUNDARY PEOPLE#I'm sorry I know I'm just rambling in the tags but like I'm just really fucking annoyed at myself for how much I put up with
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esta-elavaris · 1 year
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So I don't know if you actually ever addressed this (my bad if you did) but what happened to the photo of Theodora's ex that she kept in her wallet? Did she keep it with all of the other photos? Did James ever find out it was a former lover of hers??
I'm just so curious because I remember in the end it said she was buried with the other photos and my first thought was "wait, what about the one with her ex?"
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Also I don't have any gifs of James Norrington but I do have a gif of Jack Davenport looking rather surprised so I hope that'll do!
I love this thing of there now being a Davenport tax when people send me asks, what a time to be alive hhhh. Ooo okay so, being completely honest, if there was something I could change about the story it would be that. The whole thing ended up being a bit of a comedy of errors. I originally put that in there so it would spark the topic of Theo not being a virgin when the time came and James saw the photos, but then it ended up just not feeling right.
I think that would've provoked a much more intense response from him (the gif do be fitting), because then it's not a vague sort of concept of "I've slept with other people", adding "and this is one of them lol" and I didn't want to go down that path. I don't think he'd have been nasty about it, but certainly would've been more of a rude awakening to find out that way while literally looking at a portrait of one of the lads. I wanted that whole topic to be less of an argument and more of a discussion, even if it's strained, and I think the photo could've made all the difference there in the worst of ways - not least because she still had it, and it would've been easy to read into that incorrectly for James (and anybody in his position).
Also, his seeing the photo and questioning it then makes it less a thing of "Theo tells him of her own volition because she knew it might be an issue" and more of a "she was cornered and had to admit it", which I didn't want it to be either, because that's not Theo.
I intended to write a bit in a later chapter where she gets rid of the photo - burning it or discarding it into the sea - but then at some point or another I ended up certain that I had already written it as a throwaway line (bc I'd thought about doing it so often), I didn't want to accidentally do it twice, and turned out I hadn't, which I didn't realise until it was too late, so I accidentally didn't do it at all until it was too late.
I'm torn on whether I'll write a one-shot set during the DMC era where James finally sees the photo (I think it could be a funny thing for him to compare himself to the guy and be like "lmao I'm so much better, this is what a grown man looks like in her time? pah!" once they're more secure in their relationship), or just one where Theo gets rid of it, but yeah. Less a stylistic choice and more just an error on my part. I'm sorry!
But yeah, either way she wouldn't have had the photo on her when she was buried with them - she definitely got rid of it at some point, I've just yet to actually write that because I thought I already had 🙃
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mai-melancholia · 1 month
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2nd Entry: Boundaries with Old Meme God, Thought Disruptions, Neutral Energy
I just finished this book.
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It's a nice read, but I personally rate it 3.5/5 because I already knew some of the stuff in it. However, it's pretty informative if you want to delve more into attachment styles and how their dynamics affect boundaries. Some of the advices and suggestions are simple but still as effective if done right. so, I have serious-anxious behavior. However, every now and then I go back to my old habits of being disorganized. It's not something I would say I'm proud of; in actuality, there's a lot of guilt for my past that I have to accept and let go.
::TMI INCOMING::
TW: Abusive relationship
In the past, my ex, C, I was abusive to him. He was abusive to me. We both were pretty much abusive to each other. We did reconvene months later after the break up and to my surprise, he apologized for what he did. I also apologized for what I did because I have rather been abusive for a long time. I've been I was in a vulnerable spot, so you could figure that I was enamored and wanted to date him.
But he had his head correct on his shoulder and rejected my advances, knowing how vulnerable I am. Of course, knowing about my plight, caring people would ask things like "why would you be friends with someone who abused you?"
Ahem,
excuse me, did you miss the part where I said I was abusive to him too? I know right? Crazy. However, I will accept the criticism of "It would be unwise to go back dating especially if you two had a tumultuous relationship"
I just now went to therapy and developed trust in other people who are my friends to help me around this time.
::TMI END::
Ever since the break up, there have been two people who have and are helping me through this journey and navigation through my emotions: Chris and Storm.
Chris is one of the various exes I've dated during my disorganized behavior era as a kid.
But as time has passed, I met him again in one of my "reincarnation era" (which I will go into in a second), needing help actually. The breakup with C resulted in me severely experiencing one of the worst codependency I've ever had and the event itself was pretty much like a canon-event that further catalyzed the trauma to become more apparent to my eyes.
Storm is a mysterious meme god, and his wisdom is unfounded. In the first entry, I had talked about an advice that he had told me. I don't know his name, his identity, or anything. What I do know is unlike Chris, he's a relatively new person that I've befriended, and he knows me more than anyone would.
C does help me, but I know he's dealing with his own emotions; our relationship I will acknowledge is rather... strained but in a respectful way. Like we both are aware of the other person's feelings, but it does seem like it's hard to communicate with one another due to the different circumstances. I personally don't expect him to process emotions the same as me or give me respect that I [as the kid says it] "deserve".
-------------
So, it's been... about a week now since I've deeply went into this journey. And there's a part of me that feels extreme amount of shame and guilt (a common theme with me in these entries). The thought this time is about how I stopped therapy for even a brief moment, and now everything is shit again. Chris told me that's self blame and self-reprimand. And I'm like
yeah It is.
This part is a little blurry, but I know I felt relieved after he explained something to me.
It's a bit hard to essentially remember the good stuff now a days when all the bad ones are so strong and loud in my head.
The only thing helping me disrupt any of those thoughts, which is also still an ongoing thing that I'm trying to do in order to detox the fucking mind, is what C said to me:
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I did feel an ounce of... not necessarily comfort, but reassurance and reaffirmation of my effrots being told this.
"It doesn't matter what he thinks of you. You're doing it right now. What he thinks is irrelevant."
"He doesn't need to know what you're doing and you don't need to know what he's doing. It's irrelevant"
It's going to be hard to hammer these thoughts in for those who struggle with codependency like I do, especially when your life's identity revolves around the people you are friends with or who you loved.
The truth is, I know part of my brain is telling the other part that I can wallow in these feelings of guilt and shame, but I am not sitting there, doing nothing about it. I'm not here to do it for anyone. In the end, I am doing it for myself because I don't know about you and now a days with people getting into "situationships", but I'm tired of not feeling grounded.
I'm tired of not feeling sure about anything.
The talk with Chris about thought disruptions did help and as mundane and repetitive as it may be, those negative thoughts are also repetitive and merciless too.
Storm mentioned something about neutral energy and how I need it more often (aka: It is what it is energy).
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Transcription:
Me:
Staying asleep is a problem; falling asleep isn't. Somewhere in my sleep, I did feel tempted to "check on him" but I kept repeating in my head "it doesn't matter. It doesn't tell you anything if he's online or if he has you unblocked" "Focus on you"
Storm: those are pretty good reminders and if you can't get yourself to focus on you, focus on something else you need a lot more neutral energy in your life tbh
Me: wtf thtat neutral energy
Storm: halfway between positive energy and negative energy
Me: = =; example
Storm: positive energy: today I will be productive and heal negative energy: today I cannot bear to get out of bed neutral energy: today I continue to exist
Me: Oh. That's what you meant okay ;;;; I do need to practice that
Storm: likewise, positive energy: that person's actions don't reflect poorly on me, I am a good person negative energy: that person's actions must mean that I mistreated them neutral energy: that person is in control of their own actions and I am in control of mine
I'll be real with you chief, applying the neutral energy doesn't really help too much but I'll still incorporate it because it's helpful even if it hurts a little.
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Mobster!Steve Rogers x reader Part 1
Request: Can you write about mob steve. Reader doesn't know that he is a mafia so she kinda rude to him. Make it fluff and smut 😘😘 . Thank you . Happy birthday 🥳🥳 and i love your writing
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Warnings: swearing, talk of past abusive relationship, (photo not mine, credit to owner)
>Part 2>
You hated clubs. They were filled with unwanted wondering hands. They were loud, and because they were loud, it meant you had beer fumes being breathed against your ear as some creep tried to get in your pants. Not your idea of a fun night. But the worst part tonight, the straw that broke the camels back, was when your ex showed up. Brock Rumlow was the worst mistake of your life.
"He misses you," A friend had whispered. "Why don't you talk to him? Maybe try give things another go." She smiled excitedly. "I know he wants to, he told me."
It was a set up. Most likely by him, and that was dangerous, it meant you had to get away from him, before he got mad.
So you made an excuse up about needing the ladies and ran for it. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you made it to the other side of the club, but you weren't safe. Brock knew you like the back of his hand, so he followed you.
You could curse yourself for wearing heels, it was harder to run away as he followed after you, shouting your name. You wiped your tears away as you began walking down a dark hallway to get away, only to crash into a wall of solid muscle.
"Fuck!" You dropped to your knees and quickly collected your purse, seriously considering just leaving it's contents on the floor.
"Apology accepted." A deep voice sighed above you.
You huffed and abruptly stood up. "I didn't apologise."
"I know." The same voice growled.
You rolled your eyes as you hooked your bag over your shoulder as you sniffled. "Excuse me." You pushed passed the group of men, only to have your wrist grabbed. You let out a startled gasp, expecting to see Brock but it wasn't. You narrowed your glare at the bearded blond, "What? Gonna scold me for not apologising?"
He shook his head as he frowned at you, "You're crying... And scared."
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"Steve, we've gotta-" A dark-haired man spoke from behind you, being cut off by the blond.
"Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?" His voice was filled with worry as he let go of your hand.
You shook your head, "N-No, I just, need to leave."
The brunet let out a small chuckle, "Not this way, doll, this is private."
"Didn't you see the sign?" Another man asked. "Pretty hard to miss." He offered you a soft smile.
You shook your head, "I... Sorry, I should-"
"No," 'Steve' stepped in front of you, holding his hands up in front of him when you flinched. "Look, you're clearly distressed and upset, so why don't you come back to my office. You can have a stiff drink, and then tell us what's happened." He smiled softly, nodding his head.
You nodded after a quick look back towards the way you'd just come. Anything was better than Brock, right?
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"Brock, Rumlow?" Steve glared at the screen in front of him and the footage from the nights security camera's. "Who is he?" Steve looked up.
You let out a heavy sigh as you stared into your empty glass. "My ex... My, abusive, ex." You looked over at Steve. "We broke up... Nearly four months ago, but he can't seem to get it into his head, I don't want anything to do with him. I've had to change my number, change my locks... I've even spotted him a couple of times following me."
"Did you tell the police?" Steve asked, knowing the answer.
You nodded, "They said I was crazy. Without any evidence, there was nothing they could do." You sighed, "I'm sorry, you don't need to be hearing this."
Steve shook his head as he got up from where he sat behind his desk. "It's okay, Y/N."
"Yeah. Stevie's always had a soft spot for damsels in distress." Bucky, the brunet, sent you a teasing wink making you smile.
Steve glared at him, "You and Sam go locate Mr Rumlow."
Bucky nodded, "And do what to him?"
Your brow furrowed at his words as you looked up at Steve.
He shook his head. "Keep an eye on him, and let me know where he is. I'm gonna make sure, Y/N, gets home okay." Steve gave you a reassuring smile.
You opened your mouth to protest but Bucky and Sam had already left Steve's office. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Steve cleared his throat and stood from his chair before moving towards you.
"This, Brock guy... He hit you?" Steve asked as he sat down beside you on the leather sofa.
You looked up to meet his knowing gaze and nodded, "He would usually rough me up a bit during sex he demanded we have." You whispered lowering your head. "Or, grab a hold of me, and squeezed a little too hard..." You shook your head and let out a short chuckle. "He'd never do anything anyone could see."
Steve shook his head as he let out a heavy sigh. "M'sorry, doll," He frowned at you, "You shouldn't have had to deal with the that. Not from someone who's meant to care 'bout you."
"Brock never cared about me." You admitted, more to yourself than Steve.
Steve placed his hand on your knee and gave a soft squeeze. "Sounds like you're better off without that asshole, doll." He offered you a playful smile making you smile. The sound of his cell drew his attention away from you.
You watched as Steve stood up and went back over to his desk. He picked his cell up and read something before slipping it into his pocket.
"'kay, let's go."
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The next morning whilst you were cleaning your breakfast things away there was a knock on your apartment door. You froze, straining your hearing for any sign that it might be Brock.
You never saw Brock again last night as you Steve walked through his club, his hand in yours. You'd found yourself taking hold of it when you were startled by some guy trying to grab a hold of you. It was silly but for some reason you felt safe. Steve didn't mind, he just pulled you closer to him.
Once the two of you were outside, Steve ushered you into a black car before he followed you in asking for your address. Before you knew it, you were saying goodnight to Steve outside your apartment door.
With a shaky breath you peaked through the peep hole, letting put a relieved sigh and opened the door, smiling politely at the delivery man that held a bunch of flowers. "Hello?"
"Miss Y/N?" The yound man smiled at you. You nodded with a furrowed brow. "These are for you. Have a good day."
You stared down at the flowers that you held with an opened mouth. You couldn't remember the last time you received flowers. Definitely never received any from Brock. With the door shut, you pulled out the small card that was with the flowers.
Let me take you to dinner tonight. Steve
On the back was his number. You shook your head with a smile as you placed the gorgeous flowers on to the coffee table.
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You pulled out your cell and dialled the number, as you waited you thought back to last night. You thought back to what Steve had said to you before you wished him goodnight.
"If you were mine, I'd treat you like a Queen." Steve smiled at you as he leaned against the wall.
You rolled your eyes, "How many times have you said that, to a woman?" You asked as you finally unlocked your door.
Steve shook his head. "Never. But I mean it. I'd take care of you." He whispered.
"I was wondering if you'd call." Steve answered. You could hear the smirk in his tone.
"How'd you know it was me?" You asked curiously, sitting down on the sofa.
Steve let out a low chuckle, "Just did, doll. So, dinner tonight. You like Italian? Or do you prefer something else?"
"I haven't said yes, yet." You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless.
Steve let out a low chcukle, "Sweetheart, you wouldn't have called, if you were saying no." He spoke softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
"I like talian." You whispered. "Thank you for the flowers." You smiled and reached out to gently touch the petals.
"You're welcome, doll. My ma always told me, 'you gift a pretty dame flowers on a date, to start it with a smile'."
You felt your cheeks begin to blush at his words. "Well... I am smiling."
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hes-writer · 4 years
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To You (4)
Summary: harry dates y/n to get closer to her best friend
Warnings: mild angst (what else lol), not a lot of dialogue for this one, and a bit of fluff
Word Count: 2775 words
A/N: I've had the worst writer's block for this series but then inspiration struck me at 2 am and I had the chance to write a lil sumthin sumthin for the next part :D
Read the full series in my masterlist (bio)
As I mentioned before, this story kind of goes backwards.
____
As self-deprecating as it is, Y/N couldn’t help but feel her guard lower with each fleeting glance at her phone. She didn’t mean to, really. It wasn’t as if she was bored out of her mind because she was the opposite of that. 
Going on her phone and tapping on Instagram was more of a distraction from studying if anything. She was hounded by piles of homework and pages of readings to do by the end of next week. It seemed that her brain was working in constant overdrive to try to remember the endless concepts and theories that were catapulted at her with no signs of stopping. Her eyes were straining from the constant stimulation from her laptop screen, and from trying to read the small letters plastered on the computer. 
Y/N was studying on her designated studying days, as usual. She was quite proud of sticking to the schedule, except for the few weeks that she opted to coddle herself in the confines of her warm blanket because that was around the time that she found out her boyfriend, Harry, was only using her to get close to her best friend, Louise. 
——
In retrospect, Y/N should have seen all the signs blaring right in front of her face all along. She gave herself facepalms more than she could count by the way she was—quite literally—blinded by love to realize that Harry’s feelings were nothing but a façade. That Y/N was nothing but a pawn in his game; a character to manipulate, disposable in order for him to get the woman he actually wanted. And Y/N had no doubts that her ex-boyfriend was treating Louise like a queen. 
Y/N wore red-tinted glasses while she was with Harry and she didn’t see the red flags rising every time he shaped their evening around Louise’s schedule. She thought that Harry was making such a good effort in getting to know the people close to Y/N’s life that he insisted on having Louise around whenever they hung out with her friends. 
Harry asked endless questions about Louise; from where she worked to what she was interested in—to which Y/N had foolishly answered, believing that she had found the perfect man to share her life with. But she should have known when he didn’t do the same for her other friends. Hell, he didn’t even do the same to her!
___
When Harry and Y/N were just friends, he didn’t bother getting to know her as thoroughly and comprehensively as he did with Louise. In fact, it could be argued that Harry hated Y/N when they were first introduced by—and this was ironic—Louise! 
Louise spoked highly and excitedly of ‘my friend, Y/N’ and with Harry being the loved-up simp that he was—wanted to please Louise by appearing interested in her friend. He guessed that he was probably too good of an actor (not to toot his own horn) because that meet up turned into a set-up. 
Louise had planned a date for her friends, Y/N was indifferent to it; she was even a little excited because she thought that Harry was sort of nice. Despite the fact that he was indirectly rude to her in their first meeting, Y/N didn’t hold grudges on people for their first impressions. She believed that anybody could have a bad day and that might just be the time when Harry was dragged by the arm to be introduced to her. 
Y/N understood if that was the case. She was not too keen on acting nice and friendly after a stressful day at work, or a hard study session at the library. So even if Harry was practically snarling at every word she said from his seat around the rounded booth table of the bar—she agreed to go on a first date with him. 
——
Harry was in shambles.
He got himself into quite an intricate mess trying to attain the woman of his dreams. He was such a pleaser that he was now contemplating inside his car, outside of Y/N’s address. Was this all worth it? Of course, it was. As much as Harry would like to say that this was part of his plan to make Louise his girlfriend, it really wasn’t. 
But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use it to his advantage. 
It was a good thing that he was early—about twenty minutes or so. That was only because he was huffing the whole time Harry was buttoning the clutches of his dress shirt, shaking his head at the bathroom mirror and reprimanding himself for letting his lovesickness to get him deeper than he would like. But hey, the sooner Harry got to Y/N’s place, the sooner this ‘date’ would be over. 
So here he was, hidden in the shadows of the night sky and shielded by the heavy tint of his Range Rover. Palms were pressed on the lush leather steering wheel as Harry formulated how he could turn this around in his favour. He was already in Louise’s good books for even agreeing to this in the first place—why not make Y/N his own personal wingman?
Granted, that she didn’t actually know Harry well enough but maybe this date could reach Louise’s ears about how much of a romantic, perfect, and chivalrous gentleman Harry could be. That would surely make Louise like him, right?
Wrong. Absolutely wrong.
It was safe to say that Harry was feeling guilty the moment he decided to use Y/N in order to get to her best friend, but that ship sailed long ago when anger and frustration took over. Why in the hell was he so perfect to Y/N’s eyes that she had gushed about him to her best friend minutes after he had dropped her off?
Why did Harry have to knock on her door with a single-stemmed rose clutched in his fingers, doing a little bow to add humour when she opened the door? And what in God’s name possessed him to say that she looked beautiful that night in her pretty, deep green dress that he thought was absolutely gorgeous on her—but his heart was with another woman—fully knowing that it would look better on Louise?
“Why. . . just why,” Harry asked himself as he sat at a table with Y/N, Louise and her boyfriend, Dylan. 
That was what being romantic got him. That was where declaring Y/N as his unofficial wingman ended him upon. A double date with the woman he wanted with Y/N looking at him as if they’ve been together for years, when in fact, they had only known each other for a few weeks. 
Harry’s pride was too big to admit that this time; he couldn’t get the girl. And so, his bruised ego declared that this date was just another unplanned situation that would benefit him—somehow, someway—in the future. 
Wrong again. 
Because a month later,  Y/N was running off to her lecture with a bag strapped over her shoulder, leaving Harry a passionate kiss on the lips. He was quite ashamed to say that he enjoyed the affection, but not enough to ignore the throbbing of his heart
Harry wasn’t all in with his relationship with Y/N and he knew exactly why. For months, he had been pining for Louise and well, he ended up with her best friend, Y/N. Now that was just super unlucky for him. And he wasn’t usually a mean person, but Harry was very annoyed with fate (or destiny) for leaving with an ultimatum. 
First, leaving Y/N risking her tattling to Louise about him breaking her heart was a no-no. Second, staying with Y/N until she realizes that both of them were no good together. The latter was a much more pleasant choice, except the fact that it could take months for Y/N to acknowledge that she and Harry were both too different for each other. 
—— 
It was another four months later when Harry drew upon an epiphany very similar yet completely different from the ultimatum he had presided. 
Y/N was sure of her feelings more than ever, even dropping the ‘L’ word during a drunken stupor of wine and bubbly champagne. Harry was sure that she hadn’t remembered her confession the next morning because she never brought it up. However, those words that escaped her lips were enough for Harry to overthink each night one or the other slept over. 
Sometimes Y/N’s snores would serve as background noise to his serene imagination, wondering why the images of Louise and him doing couple-y stuff were now replaced with Y/N’s figure instead. 
He also pondered if his memory was so impeccable that he could hear Y/N’s laugh fluttering in his ears while she was sound asleep beside him or was it just because she released a chuckle every time he made a horrible joke?
(It was true. Y/N never left Harry hanging in the air with a questionable punchline of a head-scratching joke. Both of them knew that her giggles were pity laughs. Harry was thankful for it and Y/N just couldn’t resist painting a genuine smile on Harry’s face, looking so proud that he had made her laugh.) 
Harry was certain that his feelings for Y/N wouldn’t quite reach the threshold that he held her for now. But it seemed that he was getting a lot of his sworn predictions wrong lately. Sure, their first encounter (and the second, and the third. . .) were purely for satisfaction’s sake. A mere plot for Harry to build his boyfriend resumé for Louise. 
Harry wasn’t sure when his feelings shifted from civil and friendly to an ever-evoking, lovesick puppy. 
Maybe it was the way Y/N walked, straight into his heart and stole it, keeping it safe in her tender hands when she pressed a lingering kiss on his lip while she ran off to catch the bus. The way Harry would pout when Y/N forgot the routine she had set, resulting in him whining her name and sometimes chasing after her to get his much-needed kiss. He even started calling it his ‘good-luck charm’ because it seemed like without it; Harry came home more drained and tired than usual because nothing went right that day. 
Or maybe it was the way she giggled while reading something on her phone, laptop, or a book—even if it was for school purposes. How absolutely pleased he was to hear her melody of giggles, straining his ear to listen more closely and wanting to do nothing more than to hear it again because it was music to Harry. It usually ends with Y/N’s heaving breaths, begging him to stop tickling her. 
Was it because she was the most adorable little thing while she was asleep? No, it couldn’t be, Harry thought, even though the admiration in his eyes cannot be described as anything other than glazed over with love and affection with the way he stared at Y/N’s sleeping face. 
But why can’t he stop thinking about her when she wasn’t around? Harry felt like he was missing a part of himself as soon as he shut the door to his house because Y/N had to go to her own place. 
Why did a smile splinter his lips visualizing Y/N studying at her kitchen table with a topknot wobbling on her head and a pair of her thick-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose? Harry still remembers the first time she asked him to redo the bun on her head, complaining that it was loosening and that she couldn’t focus when strands were haywire. 
Harry made sure to be extra careful as to not accidentally pull on her scalp, stretching the hairband around his fingers. 
Now, he only had a minute experience in hair styling, reminiscing to his long-haired days were he slipped his hair into a neat ball in a few seconds or less. But this was Y/N, his girlfriend, who had an adorable pout on her face. The finch between her brows deepening when she tried to understand the concepts written on the screen yet she would giggle when Harry would ask her, ‘Am I hurting you?’ and shake her head ‘no’. 
——-
So it was a bit questionable when Harry jumped at the chance to kiss Louise when the time came. 
She had just broken up with her boyfriend and called Y/N for comfort. However, Y/N was about to leave for an exam worth half of her grade and she couldn’t just not attend it. She may love her best friend with all of her heart, but not enough to waste thousands of dollars to redo a course because she missed the final exam. 
Hence, why Harry was sent in place of Y/N instead. And that was also how his plump lips managed to lock itself with Louise’s’ glossy ones. He should’ve felt guilt stab him right away when he tasted wet, salty tears on his tongue when he battled for dominance with Louise. 
Harry should have pulled away when his phone buzzed in his pocket; a message from girlfriend that she had just finished her exam and was ready to be picked up now so that she could give love and comfort to her best friend. 
Harry’s subconscious must have reminded him that this was the woman whom he had spent months pining on; desperately trying to make her his yet failing. And now that he had the chance to, he couldn’t stop. 
Instead of doing everything his conscience had practically yelled at him to do, Harry’s brain had buffered—his body numbed every nerve except the ones controlling his mouth because their persisting kiss was captured by a photographer hidden amongst barricades that Harry had failed to take notice of. 
Harry was sure that his presence was hidden to the best of his abilities, but he guessed that Louise’s hands had pulled his hoodie off in the midst of their make-out session, revealing his side profile and the unruly curls on his head. 
And that was how Y/N identified the image on her phone the time she felt her heart being ripped out and crushed into pieces. That, and the fact that Harry wore the same clothes she had seen him in before she left. 
____ 
And now, as Y/N paused her thumb from scrolling away from the image on her screen, the same pain and heartbreak still throbbed in her chest. 
She couldn’t seem to forget, as a lot of people say, what Harry did to her. Despite the fact that he was spotted outside her door, leaving boxed gifts of chocolate and flower bouquets a few minutes ago—Y/N simply didn’t have the capacity to sweep everything under the rug. 
The wound was still fresh—feeling air was enough to have her hissing, aiming to cover the cut in fear that it would become too painful to even ignore. For weeks, Y/N had to wallow in agonizing self-pity to remind herself that Harry didn’t deserve her or her love for him and now she was somehow ready to run back into his arms? 
She absolutely despised the way her hands twitched to send him a text. To leave him a voicemail or to simply tap his contact just to hear him speak to her again. Y/N was ashamed to admit that he thought about knocking on his front door just for another chance at seeing him again. An opportunity to ask him if he was happier with her (ex) best-friend—if Harry loved Louise more than he did with her. Or—and most of all—if Harry ever did love Y/N during their short relationship. Was everything just a game to him? 
She was doing good so far; she was strong enough to withhold from the urges of communicating with an ex. However, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before Harry took extreme measures to speak to her, unlocking her door with the spare key she had given him. One day she would be met with his figure in the hallway with a sad smile on his face and three long-stemmed sunflowers in his hand and Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist him. 
Y/N hated herself for being so weak whenever Harry was involved. He was her Kryptonite; getting too close to him was what ripped her to shreds. 
___
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luvteez · 4 years
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bassists do it deeper
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pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k
note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 
A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)
That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.
You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.
“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”
“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”
“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”
“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”
Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”
And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.
“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”
The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”
You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)
The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”
You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.
“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.
“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”
“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.
“Talent. Believe it or not.”
“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.
Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”
“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.
“Listen up, you piec—“ 
“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.
“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.
“I’m not that short—!”
“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”
World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.
“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.
Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”
A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.
“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.
Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”
And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.
“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.
Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.
When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.
That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.
But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.
As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:
Yunho is good.
While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.
He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?
Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.
It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.
You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.
exhibitionism
getting off in public
best crowded places to have sex and get away with it
You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.
When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.
Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.
You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.
This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.
To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.
This is absolutely bonkers. But:
You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.
Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.
Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.
“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.
San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”
“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”
“A cricket? Are you serious?”
“I’m tired, okay!”
“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”
“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”
“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”
In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).
Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.
“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.
“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”
“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”
His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”
There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.
You can’t, but your proof will do the job.
“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”
Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.
Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.
“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.
You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.
“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.
“As long as nobody notices—”
“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”
“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.
“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”
“Just get to it.”
The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”
Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.
“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”
“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”
“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”
That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.
“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”
You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“You could never, sub.”
Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.
Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.
“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.
Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 
When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.
“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.
“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.
“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.
“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.
“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”
You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.
Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.
“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.
You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.
“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”
“So you have a size kink.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”
“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.
He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”
“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.
“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”
The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.
“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.
“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”
“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”
You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.
“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.
“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.
If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.
You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:
“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”
“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”
He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.
“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”
You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.
The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.
“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.
“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”
“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.
It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.
“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”
“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”
Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?
“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.
Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.
“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.
Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.
“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”
Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.
It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.
As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.
You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”
“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”
He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”
“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.
“He’ll still kill you.”
“I appreciate the concern, honey.”
“Just scram back to practice.”
“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”
“I can do it myself.”
“Oh really?”
“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”
Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.
“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.
Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”
“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”
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noahstayed · 2 years
Text
Its wild how much of Canon I kept because Bella being with a Cullen relies so much on Charlie being a bad dad.
Here are some Bad Dad™ things in SoG
Charlie is never home and that means Bella can go do stoop kid shit and be wherever she wants as long as dinner is on the table when he gets home [dinner she cooks and shops for]
Building off the above, Bella slips right into making dinner every night when she arrives in Forks meaning she probably did it during her Summers too.
Their relationship is strained even though they spend every summer together and Bella's time in Forks was mostly happy, which means Charlie wasn't really part of it most of the time.
Charlie notices Carlisle being weird towards Bella but never confronts him about crossing Charlie's own boundaries when it comes to a grown man interacting with his daughter [Charlie should have honestly told him off in the ER, but his real second chance was to send Bella away with Renee after the Phoenix incident]
Charlie ACTUALLY allows Bella to go to prom with Edward and hang out with him after that incident in Phoenix??? WHAT?
Charlie never initiates their time together, Bella is the one who reaches out first and that's when they go fishing together. [EX: Bella asks probing questions about his woodworking and when Jacob brings it up recalls the work that goes into the skill and treasures the items Charlie makes. In contrast, Earthshine sees Carlisle offering Charlie Bella's reading list so they can bond over that and Charlie rejects it. Even though KNOWING what she was reading is like, bare minimum effort.]
He didn't plan anything for her first birthday with him, didn't even take time to do something with Bella [at least take her out to eat] before she went to the Cullens. [BELLA MADE HER OWN BIRTHDAY DINNER.]
These are just from the top of my head, I'm sure there are more. Like I didn't INTEND to make him the worst dad ever. Canon!Charlie has a few unforgivable sins under his belt and so SoG Charlie is still an improvement but there's no way to make him a genuinely great dad while maintaining his and Bella's characters or the story.
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consumeconstantly · 4 years
Text
Not a Saint or a Hero
Summary: To civilians, Ladybug is a hero. In the eyes of the law, Ladybug is a vigilante at best, and a villain at worst. 
______________________________________________________
Conquering the Parisian underworld is child’s play for Ladybug and her partner, Chat Noir. The ex-boss of the Parisian underworld, code name Hawkmoth, may have been good at pushing drugs and ruining people’s lives, but he was woefully incompetent at... basically everything else. Which meant that other than Hawkmoth and his direct underlings, there really wasn’t much of a structure at all that Ladybug had to be worried about. No cohesive unit, fighting as one, just easy pickings and an even easier way to convince the drug dealers, homeless, illegal fight rings, and various other under the radar activities to band together to topple Hawkmoth’s empire. 
Ladybug, after all, had experience with overthrowing established mafiosos. She did it once in Wenzhou at her mother’s side, another time in Beijing because somebody made the mistake of trying to push her into prostitution, and twice in Italy with her grandmother, code name Befana.
“Do you really have to leave, m’lady?”
Ladybug shrugs. “I trust you and the team to keep things up and running. We had a good run, but there’s a good structure in place now and Befana wants me to go with her to another country.”
Nobody says no to Befana, not unless they’re bullet proof. Ladybug may have high quality Kevlar sewn into every outfit she wears, but even she isn’t the biggest fan of the impact of a bullet. Depending on the gun, broken ribs are a kindness.
“I know you don’t get along with Queen Bee, and almost everyone else is out of the country, but you’re not going to say goodbye to Rena or Carapace?”
“It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever. Just a few months. A year at most.”
“Promise me you’ll come back, m’lady?”
Ladybug puts a hand on her partner's shoulder. “You know I can’t make promises like that.”
Chat pauses, dull thud of the rave music filling in their silence. 
He swirls the whiskey in his glass. “Stay safe, Bug. Play it smart.”
“I always do.”
#
It comes as no surprise that Befana dumps her in the middle of one of the most crime infested cities world wide without a backwards glance. Her granddaughter is grown up now, after all. 
“Have fun, darling. Black Mask is particularly nasty, make sure to watch out for his assistant, she’s very sharp.” Befana pulls away from the nonexistent curb— nonexistent because there’s no sidewalks in the slums of Gotham, at least, not many of them in good enough conditions to have curbs or whole piece of cement to walk on— and leaves Marinette all on her lonesome with a backpack, a key to a cheap apartment.
Marinette eyes the broken bottles leading to the entryway of her new building and the boarded up windows. Across the street, there’s two women smoking and conversing in hushed tones.
“Well,” Marinette mutters underneath her breath, shifting the straps of her only worldly possessions. “It’s definitely quieter than I expected.”
“Hey, new girl,” one of the women in the group calls out to her. “What’re you in for?”
“School. This is the cheapest apartment I could find.”
The woman exchanges a glance with one of her friends. 
“You’re better off finding a more expensive apartment elsewhere. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”
An excellent line for Marinette to begin to fish for information. “What do you mean by that?”
“This is disputed territory, now. If you can’t afford to stay somewhere else, you better stay with whoever just dropped you off.”
Marinette fidgets. Gina is long gone. Grandmother or not, even though Gina is undoubtedly loyal and will never hurt her, she believes that the best way to inspire growth is through adversity. Like now. The only information she got out of Befana was that she had to figure out a way to keep Gotham in line… whatever that meant. “She’s not going to come back. I guess I’ll just have to try my luck.”
“You really got nowhere else to go?”
“No. I’m from abroad.”
“That explains the accent,” says the one holding a beer bottle. “Then listen up, girlie. If you wanna survive, there’s three rules you’ve gotta learn. One. Don’t cross the Black Mask. Two. Don’t cross Red Hood. Three. Don’t sell to children.”
“Sell to children?”
“Well, I don’t suppose you’d be doing it anyways, given the whole,” she motions to Marinette’s body with a cigarette, “but Hood goes after anyone who sells drugs to kids real bad. Worse than if you fuck him over with anything the Black Mask’s doing, anyways.”
“Red Hood doesn’t sound like that bad of a guy, then.” Maybe she’ll look into a collaboration with him.
The woman with the beer bottle laughed. “Oh honey, you’re a saint. Don’t go fostering any dreams. You just stay away, hear?”
“I hear you,” Marinette says.
But they got something wrong. 
Marinette isn’t a saint, and never has been.
#
The walls of her crappy one bedroom apartment are thin enough to hear the baby upstairs scream at ungodly hours. If it’s not the baby waking her up, her neighbors in the apartment to her right are fucking very, very loudly. The apartment below her blasts rock music at all hours, the apartment to her right is likely selling drugs, given that she sees at least fifteen different people come in and out each day, and they always have a vaguely dazed look in their eye. She hasn’t heard anything from the apartment across, but she’s sure they’ll start up some noisy activity that Marinette doesn’t particularly want to hear soon enough.
She really got pampered in Paris, didn’t she?
Marinette lived a life of relative luxury whenever she stayed with her parents, instead of Gina. While in Beijing and Chongqing with Tom and Sabine, Maman did all of the heavy lifting for her. Well, Beijing had ended rather disastrously, and they had to make a quick getaway, but at least in Chongqing, Sabine managed to get rid of the prostitution ring. 
Back in Wenzhou, Catania, and Bologna, Gina took the reins, and it always turned out to be a sink or swim sort of situation. First off was her mother’s birth place, which had an astonishingly high crime rate and definitely explained why Sabine Cheng was so adept at self defense, and once they were there, of course they had to reform the fight rings. In Catania and Bologna, Gina practically threw her at two of the lowest rank mafia groups and told her to use them to bring order to the warring mafias. During those years, Gina didn’t make a front like Sabine and Tom did, purchasing a bakery and running a business to aid their more behind the scenes work. No, with Gina, it was either war of peace, and there was nowhere in between.
Which, of course, meant that Marinette rarely got to stay in nice rooms or pursue hobbies like sewing or drawing or anything, really.
Now that she is of age, Marinette could potentially try to wrest herself out of Befana’s influence, but that’s almost a laughable thought. Befana has eyes and ears everywhere. If she wants to escape the rat race of reformation, Marinette needs to gather power. 
The best thing she can do for now is try to figure out the situation in Gotham. If it’s not particularly bad, maybe she’ll have an easy time of it, and figure out how to disappear herself. She’s not totally opposed to the whole making-criminals-act-within-the-bounds-of-morality thing, but it’s gotten pretty tiring. Not repetitive, necessarily, but after experiencing an almost normal life in Paris, Marinette does want to have the privilege of not having to worry about her life every hour. Maybe she can even start up a little boutique. 
Marinette dumps most of the contents out of her bag, only leaving her wallet, a knife, and her trademark yo-yos. 
“Maybe I can go back to Paris, eventually.” She has become very fond of the city; the first place where she took fate into her own hands, where her mother and grandmother didn’t push her to reform the underworld. The first place where she chose to change the world around her. The first place where she saw things through from start to finish. The first place she formed her own team. 
The power of change is both incredibly addicting and terrifying. She sort of gets why Befana roams the world, looking for the next place she wants to shake things up in. But Marinette can’t get addicted. This is going to be her last city, then she’s going to return to Paris and settle down. She’ll leave city beautification to the so-called vigilantes that almost every city has acquired, save Paris.
Oh wait, she supposes that Ladybug and Chat Noir were-- and Chat still is-- a type of vigilante back home. But as it stands now, it will be more correct to refer to them as heads of the Parisian underworld; they definitely don’t work on the side of the law, but she and Chat made sure that drug deals were more… regulated. That deaths and the induction of children into such a dark world were curbed. That if people really wanted to get out, they could.
All of that doesn’t matter. Not in the eyes of the law at least. Parisian citizens love the duo for helping keep crimes off the streets and for banning the particularly strong strain of drug that Gabriel called AKUMA off the market, but the Parisian police? She and Chat both have targets on their head. Their whole team does.
She eyes the apartment across from her. There’s blood on the door handle. It’s a good thing that Sabine and Tom never tried to instill those odd customs of ‘house warming’ and ‘getting to know her neighbors’ that most other people teach their children. In good neighborhoods, it’s important to have a cordial relationship with whoever’s living next door. In neighborhoods like these? It’s even more important.
But rule number one of pissing people off? 
Coming over uninvited.
Marinette doesn’t bother locking the door behind her. 
#
“New to the neighborhood?”
Apparently, it really is bizarre for her to have moved into this apartment complex. She’s come across a grand total of five people during her week here, and every single one of them stopped whatever they were doing in order to take a closer look. 
Marinette knows that this is a disputed area. She looked into the two women’s words the day she arrived. But, for a disputed area, everything is remarkably quiet. No fights, nobody on the streets, most people keep indoors, unless they’re out for a smoke, to throw out the trash, or are going to or coming back from various activities outside of the block.
What’s even more odd is that all of her neighbors seem to know each other intimately. Or at least, intimately enough to know that she doesn’t belong there.
“Yeah,” Marinette says, ready to leave this conversation behind. She doesn’t bother getting information out of the people who are in her apartment complex or on this block. To be more accurate, she tried with one of the first people she came across, but it was apparent that someone encouraged them to be tight lipped with information. 
Given the current information she has, she thinks it’s more likely that the one who gave that order is Red Hood, rather than Black Mask.
“Been here a week.” The guy lights his joint and breathes out. “Not so new anymore.”
Over the years, she’s gotten used to the smell of marijuana, though she can’t say she likes the scent. She’ll take cigarettes over weed any day.
“You could say that.”
“Don’t suppose anybody’s laid out the rules for you yet, have they?”
Maybe this will make things easier for her. Mostly, she’s just settled into her apartment over the past seven days. There's no need for her to immediately get to work, and she does enjoy comfort. Taking down criminals is hard work. She wants to come back to an apartment that doesn’t look awful and lets her relax. So what if she spent most of her money on an expensive mattress and a coffee machine? She’s an adult now. Nobody can tell her what to do. (Except for Befana.) “No, not really.”
“Tina and Audrey give you a crash course?”
“Mostly just warned me not to sell to children.”
The man barks, smoke spitting into the stale air. “Some of the best advice around. Let me tell you, Black Mask might have more manpower, but Red Hood has rage. Cross Black Mask by gypping him, he’ll send a lackey after you. Fuck with children, Red Hood himself will come for you.”
He pauses, evaluating her appearance. 
“Though you look like a child yourself. Mighty pretty too. lucky girl. Hood will protect you if you stay around these parts, but if you go south on the diagonal, you’ll be in bad territory. Plenty of prostitution rings around there.”
“Thought this was disputed territory.”
“Not really. Anywhere Hood has claimed is said to be disputed because Mask hates his guts and keeps sending goons to these areas. But anyone who’s dealing under Mask aint gonna take the risk of their lives just to branch out to these spots.”
“Sounds like Red Hood is pretty well liked around these parts, then.”
Perhaps she’ll look into working with him. From what she’s heard of the guy and what she’s found trawling the dark web, his morals seem to align with her own. A little bit more temperamental than she’d like, a little too quick to kill, rather than apprehend, but Gotham prisons seem to have jailbreaks every other week, so she can understand why it may be easier just to make every encounter a one and done.
“Liked?” Blunt finished, he flicks the stub into the dirt, crushing the embers under foot. He wipes his mouth with the scarf around his neck. “Like isn't the question in Gotham, Frenchie.”
Marinette inwardly cringes. She’s tried to minimize her accent because it makes natives distrust her, or think they can take her for a loop. Most people she’s come across accept her as one of their own, but apparently she hasn’t been doing as well as she thought she was. Maybe this is why people seemed a little more reluctant with any information.
“When it comes down to it, liking means nothing. It’s who you trust to watch your back.” He fumbles in his pockets, pulling out another blunt. Marinette notices that his fingers are fairly heavily bandaged and that the man is shaking slightly. Medicinal marijuana, maybe. “Wouldn’t trust that Mask farther than I can throw him. And he used to be a wrestler, so he’s a fat bastard. At least you can trust Hood not to cross you as long as you don’t cross him first.”
Lighting the tip, his eyes sharpen. “You seem like the trustworthy sort. Active, too. I’ll leave you with one more piece of advice. If you ever run into Hood? Don’t mention two things: the Joker, and Batman.”
“I doubt I’ll ever run into him,” Marinette lies. 
The man laughs. “I’m a Gotham native, Frenchie. I can tell what kind of person you are. You’ll be meeting him soon, I know. Hood needs someone to watch his back, and you? You need someone to keep your head above water.”
He flicks the ash off the blunt and turns his back on her, and Marinette can’t tell whether he’s showing her respect or belittling her.
#
 Two weeks into her stay in Gotham and Marinette has finally collected enough information about her surroundings to feel confident about going out as Ladybug.
Guns are infinitely more available here in America than they were back in France, which means she needed more than one costume, and an upgrade to her current one. High quality kevlar is good and all, but it’s heavy, and not everyone in Gotham is high off their minds using AKUMA. Replacing kevlar with polythene, now that it’s available to her, is only a natural decision. She has to be more careful here in Gotham. Not only does she have no support network, she’s also highly inexperienced with the terrain. She’s at a disadvantage here.
With a combo polythene and kevlar bodysuit, a crop top with her signature ladybug embroidery on the backside, an all black domino mask, and a utility belt with two yo-yos , knife, and emergency medical supplies, she’s as ready as she ever will be to witness the nightlife first hand.
And just like in Paris, Wenzhou, Beijing, Chongqing, Catania and Bologna, she doesn’t have to go far to find the trouble.
Befana has told her multiple times that Marinette is like a lucky charm for problems. Judging by the amount of time she’s gotten herself into sticky situations unintentionally, she’s inclined to agree, though she’d call herself more of an unlucky charm.
She doesn’t bother speaking, instead hurling one yo-yo at the guy who’s trying to tie up a girl half her age and the other yo-yo at the wheels of his car, to make sure he can’t make a quick getaway.
Ladybug may not use guns, but she never said that her weaponry wasn’t tricked out; yo-yo knocks the guy up the head, sending him down for the count, and yo-yo two slashes through the rubber tire. The man waiting in the car rolls down the window to shoot. Ladybug rolls her eyes. Dumb and dumber. She’s not sure whether he’s trying to preserve his windows or doesn’t realize that rolling down his window leaves him open for her own attacks.
Reeling back in yo-yo one. She hurtles it through the window, presses a button, then ducks. The head of the yo-yo detached and shocks the driver.
“Need help getting home?” Ladybug asks the girl who’s currently edging away from her. 
“Who are you? Why did you help me?”
Ladybug shrugs. She’s never been particularly good at explaining herself; Chat took care of most of the conversions within Hawkmoths retinue. She’s good at making the occasionally public statement and making sure people she’s close to don’t stray, but strangers? Most people back in Paris just trusted her blindly, and she never had to think about how to present her reasoning.
She takes two sets of zip ties out of her pack, then restrains her first victim. After she slaps a patch on the tire-- if she is going to take this girl home, she certainly doesn’t want to walk her back in this neighborhood, and judging by the size of the van, there are probably a few people in the back she’ll need to free as well. Ladybug moves on to tie up the guy in the car, back towards the girl. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine too.”
As soon as she turns, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “You’re with Hood, then.”
Not yet. “M not, actually. Never met the guy. What makes you say that?”
A bout of nervous, high pitched laughter. “The red, maybe. Or, I don’t know, the fact that he’s here and not knocking you out?”
Ladybug whirls, trying to see where the infamous vigilante is. True to the girls word, he is just a little ways down the alleyway they’re currently in, looking, for all intents and purposes, not about to kill her. How pleasant. Better than she was expecting; his temper precedes him, and she was expecting to have to fight with the guy before even dreaming about having a civil discussion with him.
He doesn’t have his hands on his guns, which she takes as a good sign. Taking a good look at him she’s almost surprised that he’s calming himself the Red Hood instead of the Red Helmet, but she supposes the former sounds better.
“Let me finish tying that one up,” Ladybug says.
Red Hood grunts in response.
“So you are working together,” the girl concludes.
Ladybug shrugs again, tapping another button to reattach the head of her yo-yo and grabbing the keys and phone from the driver’s pocket. She pops the back of the van. There are three girls tied up in the back. 
Her knife makes quick work of the bonds that restrain them. The girls take the duct tape off their mouths themselves; she feels a deep disgust of the men that are currently knocked unconscious. Not only are they traffickers, but they’re new traffickers. Inexperienced. Duct tape isn’t used most times because it damages the goods. Either that, or they’re organ dealers, because people don’t need the bodies to look pretty when they just want the innards. Judging by the fact that all of the people in the back are girls, she’ll put money on the first one.
“You going to let me drive these girls back before we have our talk?”
“Fine,” Red Hood bites out, moving to sit shotgun. “You move one finger out of line, and I’ll shoot.”
Ladybug tosses the unconscious body out of the driver’s seat.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
@jasonette-july-2k20
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salarta · 3 years
Note
What don't you like about Lorna's characterization in X-Factor?
Thanks for asking!
I believe in transparency, so before I get into that, I want to provide a little background on the point of view I’m coming from that influences my opinions.
I was opposed to Lorna being on X-Factor when it was announced. There was already a lot of bad blood and history for me with Marvel as a result of these past few years especially. I won’t exhaustively detail all of it, but the bottom line is, I was already in a place of having a low opinion of current X-Men comics in general.
Then when it was announced she would be on X-Factor, not even as the leader but just as a team member, that immediately grated on me. She’s been buried and sidelined for so long, and now she’s not only right back on the same title yet again after 30 years - that’s a second wave fringe title - she’s not even leading it, or doing other, more meaningful things outside it simultaneously.
Then I saw the interviews by X-Factor’s writer at announcement, which immediately gave me a couple red flags. One, the writer couldn’t seem to say a single thing about Lorna besides essentially “Magneto is her dad and Havok is her ex.” Not even about trauma, of which Lorna has tons of it. Yet she had no problem acknowledging trauma as an important story point for other characters. Two, in trying to form her opinion of Lorna, she said she talked to a couple friends, one of which she said put the Lorna x Havok relationship in a “new light” for her. Meaning she was limiting her fan input just to a couple people she knows and whatever biases those two have, at the exclusion of all others.
That’s my background. Before a single issue dropped. Now let’s get to the things I have problems with since it’s started getting published.
And I do welcome people correcting me if I’m incorrect about details of the book. Being wrong happens. The only true path toward a better future for Lorna is honest assessment.
My biggest problem with X-Factor’s characterization, as a whole, is that it completely disregards important parts of her history in the way she should think and act, and instead treats her like a blank slate.
This is clearest in X-Factor #4, the issue during X of Swords where Rockslide dies. Lorna is a survivor of the Genoshan genocide. We saw how deeply that wounded her. We outright saw her experience of being hailed as a sovereign princess by the people of Genosha, followed by those same people begging Lorna, specifically, to save them. Only for Lorna to be unable to do so, and unable to handle all the death and carnage and pain around her (note these pages are in order of her experiences, not publication order).
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After the Genoshan genocide, we saw how not only did she survive this, she had those moments replaying constantly in her head and all around her until the other X-Men dug her out of Genosha’s ruins.
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She suffered immensely from what happened to her. So much. But by the end, after dealing with the strain and trauma for so much time, she started to settle into a role from that experience somewhere in between Xavier and Magneto - which is extremely appropriate, considering her very first appearance in comics was all about her struggling between the “good of the X-Men” and the “evil of her father’s blood flowing through her veins” (as it was incredibly simplistic at the time).
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This is the Lorna that came out of her hardships with Genosha. The one who felt the weight of those deaths and took them on to a point of being ready to fight for mutant rights.
In spite of this, Marvel has been ignoring the Genoshan genocide concerning Lorna’s history for 15 years now. Refusing to acknowledge it at all, as they let Jean fight Cassandra Nova on its ruins, and let Storm act outraged about its dead, and let Axis exploit it for Red Skull while Lorna’s written as off doing something completely unrelated.
The problem noted in the paragraph above is not X-Factor’s problem alone. It’s a running problem across all of Marvel.
But where X-Factor differs and is far, far worse is that X-Factor #4 not only completely ignored this event in her history. It had her behave as if she had no concept whatsoever of death and loss, had never received the development she did from the Genoshan genocide.
For over 15 years, Lorna’s been wiped from the Genosha story even though she went through the genocide and had served at Magneto’s side (before learning she was his daughter after all) during his rule. Not once in any of that time did Marvel allow the deaths of millions crying for her specifically to save them to impact their treatment of her. It’s been as if she suddenly no longer gives a damn about them.
But one mutant she doesn’t know at all dies nearby and she has a complete breakdown, running around unable to figure out what to do with herself, getting yelled at by her father to make the prophecies come out and later on wishing she could just disappear and stop being a part of anything at all?
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That is not Lorna. Or rather, maybe it could count as Lorna from the 90s before Genosha ever happened. But it is absolutely not post-Genosha Lorna, the woman who endured the pain of millions dying all around her and came out of it a woman ready to fight through that pain.
Perhaps if this story acknowledged and incorporated the Genoshan genocide, did an incredibly good job justifying her behavior through that and making it all make sense, I would feel differently. But as it stands? This is an insult to everything she’s endured.
Which gets me to my other big complaints about this book. It doesn’t ACTUALLY acknowledge anything about her history at all.
This is where fans of the book will say “Oh X-Factor acknowledged Giant-Size X-Men when she built the base” and things like that. No. The book has only vaguely hinted at that history, which is very different from truly acknowledging and using it. The few times the book does this, such “acknowledgments” last for exactly one panel, and you have to be a real hardcore Lorna fan or long-time reader to have any chance whatsoever of seeing those statements as callbacks to her past. If you’re a casual reader, Lorna’s comment to Krakoa before creating the base could just as easily be read as that Lorna and Krakoa used to date and had a really bad breakup.
I’ve been asked before what would count as acknowledging her past. So here’s an example. Instead of the vague hinting with Krakoa, Lorna could’ve explicitly said something along the lines of “Hey, remember when Storm and the others helped me launch you out into space?” That would have been enough for a casual reader to know the amazing feat she did, its importance relative to current Marvel events, AND that she has a history with major known names in the franchise. 
But as written? It’s just a silly little joke of a character who’s apparently never done anything notable or interesting “before now.”
Aside from these problems, I’m not keen on what has over time appeared to be a running theme of “Lorna is stupid” on this book. It started with this simple “joke.”
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An important note: this panel is out of context. It looks worse by itself, but I have since been corrected by a reader that what happened before this was Northstar trying to charge in, Lorna trying to stop him, both getting caught in this trap, followed by Rachel’s quip. And they do have a history from before X-Factor. They were on the same team, Starjammers, in the late 00s to early 10s.
If this was the only case I had, I wouldn’t be bringing it up. It’s fine taken in isolation. There’s a question of why Lorna’s the sole target of the quip when it was Northstar’s fault, and a problem that people could easily misremember this in the future as Lorna taking the blame. But a single moment is no big deal.
But then we have the scene from X-Factor #4 above where Magneto’s written as yelling at her, putting her down for not being able to get the prophecies out. Lorna even explicitly calls it a “fitting humiliation” during that story.
And then we have the most recent issue. Where Siryn outright calls Lorna dumb as the story has her act in a way that makes her being called that appropriate.
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In other words, three times now, Lorna’s been presented as the object of ridicule. As a failure who isn’t able to make plans, think ahead, or handle these stresses that come her way. In essence, it’s wiping out the development she received not just from her experiences on Genosha, but also from her time as leader of All-New X-Factor. Would YOU expect this character, as presented, to be at all capable of leading her own team some day? Or of leading people in a movement, harkening back to when she was called the Queen of Mutants both post-Genosha and when she was initially revealed and Magneto was believed to be dead?
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My expectations of X-Factor before it started releasing issues were low, as stated above. But as it’s been releasing issues, it’s just been confirming my worst thoughts about Marvel and how little they think of this amazing character who’s been through so much and never receives her due.
All it’s doing is exploiting her to sell the book and promote everyone else on it. That is my straightforward assessment and opinion of the book. None of the stories or moments truly address anything Lorna’s experienced. The initial story was about Aurora, setting up Northstar as the leader, and forming the team. The Mojoworld story was about Shatterstar. X-Factor #4 was about Rockslide and his death. The latest story is about Siryn.
And it’s great for all these other characters that they’re getting all this care and attention that they often don’t get. But it doesn’t have to come at Lorna’s expense. If she’s going to be on the book, it has to actually give a damn about what she’s been through and how it’s shaped her, and openly acknowledge her too often forgotten past spanning 52 years.  
I am not saying X-Factor taken as its own thing is bad. I’m not saying it treats any of the other characters bad. I’m saying it’s bad for Lorna, and she’s better off not on it even if she doesn’t get to join the new X-Men team. 
I will end off on a bit more of a positive note for people who happen to like this book. There are a couple things I do like about it.
I like the creative usage of Lorna’s powers in building the team’s base, and in having the prophecies encoded in electromagnetic signatures. Those are an excellent way to show she can be and do other things besides “bend spoons,” and she’s not just “Magneto with boobs” as far as power usage.
I also like that the book does not have a sexism problem in its treatment Lorna. Past treatment of Lorna had this problem in a big way, as demonstrated by this awful as fuck cover from X-Men Blue.
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And I partly like the very last few panels of X-Factor #4, in that Lorna gets to do some public speaking among mutant colleagues. I loathe the treatment leading up to it, and I think it could’ve been much better if it followed the vein of one of the variant covers of Lorna holding up a sword in front of an army as if urging them onward to battle as a warrior queen would. But it was still better than okay.
But those few good bits do not in any way make up for the bad as I’ve seen it in this book.
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jobrookekarev · 3 years
Text
I Remember it All Too Well
Chapter One of Six: Invisible String Tying You to Me
Words: 2200
Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life. 
Or
The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.
Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Helen Karev, Eli Stevens, Alexis Stevens.
Rating: General Audiences
Additional Tags: Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, the Pandemic.
Read at AO3
Read at FFN
AN: Will update weekly
……………………………………………………………………
Alex was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. It was spaghetti night which means twice the mess as usual nights as he dumped the first jar of spaghetti sauce into the huge pot on the stove. 
“Here you go, Daddy,” Eli said, handing him the other jar of spaghetti sauce.
“Thanks, bud,” Alex smiled at Eli, his little co-chef tonight.
Eli ran off to get the noodles as Alex put the other jar of sauce in the pot and turned on the burner to simmer.
Izzie always went all out with the homemade sauce and everything, but Alex made a version of spaghetti sauce that he and Jo used to make. It was basically just, roasted ground beef, two different kinds of store-bought spaghetti sauce, and a dash of fresh garlic and hot pepper flakes. Izzie hated it, but the twins absolutely loved it and she wasn’t here to tell him what to do. So Daddy’s spaghetti sauce it was.
“Alex!” He heard his mother call out to him from the office down the hall. “There's something wrong with my video call!”
“Just a second mom,” Alex said as he put the can of sauce in the sink and wiped his hands. 
“Eli hold off on the noodles and don’t do anything in the kitchen until I get back,” Alex said, taking the pack of noodles from him.
“Okay,” Eli said as he scurried off to join his sister on the carpet as she played with their tablet. It was a little pre-dinner technology time and they were completely engrossed in it and didn't even notice as Alex left the room. 
He walked down the hall to the little office Helen had in the corner of the house. Ever since the pandemic started Alex had moved back to Iowa to keep an eye on his mother during the lockdown. The library had closed and Helen struggled to maintain her schedule. Having Alex there had helped as he set her up with her therapist two times a week and she was able to help the kids with their school work in place of her work at the library. It wasn’t perfect, but they made do.
Izzie wasn't with them as the two of them were fighting. Izzie was upset he wouldn't call her his girlfriend, despite their relationship and the fact that they lived and parented together. Alex tried to love her and he wanted to make it work, but he couldn't just jump all in. Izzie wanted to pick up where they left off. She wanted them to be together, so she could say she had the perfect life; a partner, and kids, and everything. However, Alex wasn't ready to fully love her like that again. Truth be told he was still in love with Jo. He needed time to let go of Jo and grieve the loss of his marriage to her. 
The pandemic had put a strain on all of that and Izzie had opted to stay back in Kansas, although she called every day to talk to the kids. As Izzie continued to work through the pandemic, Alex was left alone to parent the twins when the schools closed. Before the shutdown, Alex hadn't been able to find a job and was just subbing for the Ped’s attendings at the hospital Izzie worked at. With the quarantine that had transitioned to the occasional Zoom call consult and now he was mostly just a stay-at-home dad to the twins. 
“I had the email on the computer and I clicked the link, but then this little box popped up and asked for a password, but I've never used a password before?” Helen explained as she pointed to the computer set up on the desk for a video call with her doctor. 
She sat back in the chair and twisted her fingers as she looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past five and he could tell she was getting upset that the call hadn't gone as planned throwing off her schedule. She was going to therapy twice a week and had an extra doctor’s video appointment every other week, on Friday evenings. 
“Okay, let me see,” Alex said as he pulled up the zoom meeting on the computer. He double checked the internet settings and went back to the original email. Alex quickly read it over. It was the standard zoom email with time and place and the passcode at the bottom. Alex clicked the link and waited for it to start up. 
The Zoom started up but prompted him for the password and Alex quickly input the code and the zoom meeting connection started up on the screen.
“Thank you, Alex, but you should go,” Helen urged as she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. 
Alex stepped away to give his mother her privacy, but then the video connected and a baby appeared on the screen. The baby couldn't have been more than six months old as the camera was angled to the floor so they could see the baby sitting up on a blanket surrounded by toys. The baby smiled as soon as the video started. They locked eyes with Helen and babbled excitedly before leaning towards her. The baby excitedly babbled, as they seemed to recognize Helen and she smiled as she looked at them.
“Hello, little one,” Helen said as she leaned forward and waved at the baby. “I’m so happy to see you, but where’s your Mommy?”
Alex stepped forward and smiled as he watched them interact. He wasn't surprised that the doctor put their computer on their coffee table and did Zoom meetings with their baby. They were in the middle of a pandemic and he had done the same with the twins when he consulted for a few Ped’s cases at the hospital in Kansas City. Then he recognized the couch behind the baby. It was the white couch that Jo had bought for him with his money that she won after the ping pong match. The room around the baby was the loft in Seattle.
“Hey, do you see Grandma?” Jo's sweet voice came through the line as she sat down on the floor next to the baby and picked them up before sitting them in her lap. “I was worried when you were late. I was just about to call you, but I couldn’t find my phone... Alex?” 
Alex stood there dumbfounded as they locked eyes. Jo was just as shocked to see him as he was, but only for a moment before Jo grew angry and reached forward to end the call.
“No, Josephine, please wait, he's leaving,” Helen pleaded with her but it was too late as Jo closed the laptop and ended the call.
Helen turned around and glared at him. “I told you to go.” 
“No you can't do that, you can't just tell me to leave when you've been video chatting with my ex-wife and her baby?” Alex said, he tried not to get too upset, but he couldn't help it.
Alex just stood there shocked as he thought about Jo and the baby in her lap, video chatting with his mother. This had to have been an ongoing thing as Helen had it scheduled out every other Friday for weeks. He remembered walking past the door one time and hearing baby giggles, he brushed it off as just weird feedback, but there was a baby. 
It was Jo’s baby. He didn't even know how she’s had a baby. She couldn't have been pregnant when he left because the baby was around six months old and he'd only divorce her five months and twenty-one days ago. So unless she’d given birth right after he left Seattle the baby wasn’t theirs and he’d certainly know if Jo was nine months pregnant before he left. The tally in his head of how long it had been since he left her was a constant reminder of the life he'd left behind. 
“Just because you cut Josephine out of your life doesn't mean that I have to,” Helen said, raising her voice as she twisted her fingers. “When you left she had no one, no family, I still remember the day she called me to say that you had divorced her. Instead of hearing it from you, I heard from my daughter-in-law that my son had two kids and an ex-wife in Kansas and that he was divorcing her to be with them.”
“So what, you just took her side in everything?” Alex said, getting defensive as he crossed his arms.
“I'm not on anybody's side,” Helen insisted, getting more upset. “I let you come stay with me and, I love you, Alex I do, and I love your twins, and I love being a Grandma to them, but I love having Josephine as my daughter-in-law, too. Before your divorce, Josephine and I called each other twice a month and after you left her I continued to call her, she never stopped taking my calls, unlike how you did. It's part of my routine and I'm so gracious that she still lets me be a part of her life. Her one condition was that I couldn't tell you that we were still in contact and I respected that.”
Alex sat down in the chair across from his mom as he processed the information. He didn't know anything about Jo’s life now. Meredith wouldn't tell him anything when they talk, despite how he asked occasionally. 
“I'm sorry, you're right and you have every right to keep in contact with Jo,” Alex said as Helen nodded and relaxed back into her chair. “How is she? The baby, is it hers?”
“Sort of, he’s her foster baby and she’s trying to adopt him. Josephine picked him up from the fire station after his birth parents dropped him off there and she’s been fostering him ever since. His name is Asher, he just turned six months old last week,” Helen said as she smiled and pulled out her phone, she quickly pulled up a picture of them and handed her phone to Alex. 
Jo was holding Asher and they were pressed up against each other cheek to cheek. Jo had such a wide smile across her face, one that he had seen many times when she was joyously happy and it made him smile too. They had been trying for a baby before he left and it made his heartache, despite how happy he was for her. 
“He’s really cute,” Alex said handing the phone back to his mother, but the image remained burned into his mind. 
“Yeah he's such a sweetheart too, always babbling on about something,” Helen said as she looks down at the picture. 
“Why don't you text Jo and tell her that I'm gone. I won't interrupt your video chats again, maybe she'll call back,” Alex said as he got up and went to the door.
“Thank you, Alex,” Helen said standing up and reaching to put a hand on his cheek. 
Alex just nodded and left. He went back down the hall and went back to the pot of sauce, but he couldn't get his mind off the image of Jo and Asher. He looked over at the twins. They were completely engrossed in the game they were playing. It was this water game where they had to draw a path to give water to an alligator so they could take a shower. Alexis was directing Eli's hand and trying to draw the path over him as they argued over the right path for the water. 
“Alexis let your brother create the path for the water this time, you can do the next one,” Alex said to them as he turned the heat on the spaghetti sauce down as it had started bubbling over while he was gone. “But just five more minutes guys and then I need your help to set the table.”
“Okay,” They quickly replied in sync, but didn't look up from their game.
It was easy for Alex to step back into the role of father for his twins and focus on the life he had in front of him, but he couldn't get Jo off his mind. Alex started the water for the pasta set before he got out a stack of four plates and set them on the counter where the kids could reach them. Then he walked back down the hall. Alex pressed his ear up against the door as he heard Jo and Helen talking while Asher babbled in the background. He heard Jo laugh at something that Asher did and he took in a breath as a knot formed in his chest. 
He had regretted his decision to divorce Jo from the second he sent out the papers, but he was too much of a coward to take it back now. Alex loved Alexis and Eli with every fiber of his being and he didn't regret a second of his life with them. He just wished he could go back and tell Jo about them. He wished he would have asked her to co-parent them with him. He wished he would have done all this with her, but he didn't and he couldn't take it back now. So he just stood there and he closed his eyes as he listened to her laugh.
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Text
Excerpt#2 of my Gerry Keay/OC Magical/Mythical CollegeAU
Part 1
CN/TW: Relationship negotiations (narrative), mushy confessions, narrative mention of abusive past relationships, narrative mention of (aversion to) sex - two sentences after "Aside from being asexual"
Characters entering a long-distance relationship, anxiety, discussion of mental illness, reference to past trauma, character experiencing an affective breakdown, character being in a dissociative/shutdown state, self-depreciation and trying to shut people out, it/its pronouns for Michael Shelley, he/they pronouns for Gerry, they/them pronouns for OC
“These last weeks… I…”, he looked away. Gerry finally looked away. He closed their eyes with a pained little smile. His next words barely above a whisper. A quiet confession,
“I thought about kissing you.” When he could look at Yanis again, they returned his little smile. Both seeing that the other didn’t dare hope, still. Yanis pressed against Gerry’s hand on their face,
“None of that sounds romantic, to me.” Which made Gerry chuckle,
“I do hope so. I’m not in love with you.” Yanis nodded, turning to press a kiss to Gerry’s palm. They lay there in quiet, processing the moment and letting their feelings calm back down. That emotional turmoil subsiding.
When Gerry’s hand slid away, he raised a brow at Yanis. A bit helpless and his tone insecure,
“Where does that leave us?”
Yanis shrugged,
“Wherever we both want, I’d say.” Gerry nodded, looking away again, half hiding in the pillow,
“I just needed to let you know.” Yanis moved closer, their shoulders touching and them pressing together from the waist down. They raised a hand to Gerry’s hair, loosely carding their fingers through.
“Do you want a relationship? Give that a try even though it will be long-distance?”, their tone gentle, as quiet as they were talking. Gerry whined,
“I don’t know.” He turned back towards them,
“I just know you’re important to me and I want to be close to you.” Yanis nodded,
“I can’t stand the thought of our goodbye being forever either. I want to be close to you like this, I want to listen to your rambling and when you infodump about something I have little clue about. And I love how we can turn so many things into hourlong debates for the fun of it just to agree after all. I’m really happy with how much we can cuddle, can touch each other. And even with one or two of your stims straining my misophonia, being around you is grounding.” Gerry nodded, another pained smile twisting their face. Yanis cooed, then shushed him,
“Don’t you start crying now. I still need to know whether you want us to try getting committed.” Gerry chuckled at that, though it was rather watery and the first tear slipped. Yanis took a deep breath, letting their hand trail from Gerry’s hair to their cheek,
“Long-distance queerplatonic relationship, what do you say?” Gerry closed his eyes for a moment, humming and finally smiling.
“Can I please kiss you already?”
They did decide to label their being together as a committed relationship. There were still some negotiations and discussions to be had, around what they both wanted, their needs and boundaries. They did have the first of those discussions the very same day. Gerry elaborating on what they liked about Yanis dragging him around. Yanis reassuring him they will always make sure Gerry stays comfortable with that. On another matter, Gerry had known about Yanis not being interested in sex. That coming up wasn’t a surprise. Aside from being asexual, Yanis knew that they personally found penetrative sex rather underwhelming. They weren’t disinclined towards the general idea. But having had one too many ex-partner get upset with them for not meeting expectations… Yanis was ultimately rather averse to sex. Which, to Gerry, didn’t matter. And Yanis had to concede that, both of their mythical nature gearing them towards seduction and sexual indulgence, they both had a solid grip on how to deal with that on their own. Making out, mutual groping and feeling each other up was very much appreciated, though. And they both knew the other would stop if they asked to. They felt no need to bring sex into their relationship if they weren’t both enthusiastic to do so.
It worked well. They talked on the phone and through video calls every week, in addition to texting every day. And when Yanis’ semester abroad came around, Gerry was all too happy to welcome them into his London home. An apartment he shared with Michael. While it was a bit sceptic, parading the brother shtick of having to approve Gerry’s partner, Yanis grew friendly with him pretty quickly.
They shared Gerry’s bedroom for the entirety of Yanis’ semester in London. Leading to some late-night shenanigans, fumbling and groping implicit, between them. Aside from getting a taste for what it could be like to move in together when they both had graduated. And being together like that was generally nice. Solidifying their relationship as the right choice for them both.
After Yanis’ semester abroad, they were left with either of their semester breaks. And since that didn’t always line up, it was bound to happen that one of them still had lectures and courses wrapping up while the other was in their non-term already.
Because of that, they had decided Gerry would come visit Yanis. And that Yanis sending them the spare key to their flat was just most convenient. Having lived together, they had seen a few of the more ugly sides of each other. Both carrying trauma with them and sometimes buckling under the load of their respective mental illnesses. Especially Yanis hadn’t been able to hide their, sometimes attack-like, affective breakdowns even while Gerry and them had simply hung out. And while it obviously wasn’t pretty and did put their evening activities on hold, Gerry never once felt burdened by Yanis.
And during their stay in London, he had been unable to hide their own affective breakdowns, their own flashbacks and shutdowns. But Yanis had taken care of Gerry all the same, not even needing prompting to help Michael in calming Gerry down. Simply waiting for instructions how to go about that in the best way.
They simply had had to acknowledge that either their mental illnesses, with attacks and meltdowns, were just part of their relationship. That accommodating not only their own but their partner’s mental health and neurodiversity was part of the necessary groundwork for them.
And they never once had had a problem with that. With needing to reassure each other, with taking care of each other as well as giving one another space when needed.
Still, Gerry’s anxiety didn’t like that his train connection to Yanis’ university city was delayed. They had been looking forward to cooking together, having a stressless evening. But the European railway network being what it was, one delay piled up to two, to three. Until, when Gerry finally made it to Germany at all, they were a solid three hours late. On his train route that would have taken 8 hours in the first place.
And he couldn’t get a hold of Yanis.
Gerry knew they had had lectures that day but even then, Yanis should have been at home around 4 in the afternoon. It wasn’t that he needed to know what they were up to instead. But Yanis not answering to texts ever since Gerry arrived in Brussels… what had been almost 8 hours now… it worried Gerry.
Of course he was worried. And in turn suddenly glad to have a key to Yanis’ flat. He knew they both had expected him to arrive some time around 6 in the evening. When he finally did let themself into Yanis’ flat, it was almost 10 at night.
The flat was dark. The curtains being left open wasn’t unusual but Yanis, needing glasses, would usually put on lights when it got past 9 in the evening. Frowning, Gerry set down his bags by the door.
Shooting them another worried text message. With how quiet it was in the empty-appearing flat, he could hear the faint buzzing of Yanis’ phone.
As Gerry went looking for it, he found the device abandoned on Yanis’ bed. And being closer to the bathroom now, they heard laboured breathing.
When he poked their head into the bathroom, Gerry felt a cold shiver running through him. Yanis sat on the floor, curled up around themself. They were pressing themself into the corner between bathtub and tiled wall. And even in the dark Gerry could easily see them shaking and shivering. A sudden sob startled them both.
“Yanis?”, he pushed the door open, slowly coming closer. Getting onto their knees a good distance from Yanis still.
“<i>Kleines</i>, what’s the matter?” Yanis tensed, taking a shuddering breath before they slowly looked up. Seeing Gerry there with them, they whimpered. Struggling before they could speak,
“I’m sorry. I…” Before mortification cleared their face,
“How late is it?” Gerry shook his head, slowly coming closer,
“Doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” Yanis blinked, turning away. Sighing, Gerry reached out for their shoulder. When Yanis didn’t pull away from their touch, he moved close enough to wrap an arm around them. Neither spoke a word while Gerry slowly stroked their back. When he felt Yanis loosen up a little, he tried again,
“Do you need anything? Are you okay?” Yanis closed their eyes,
“I’m fine. And if you want to leave, I wouldn’t fault you.” Gerry almost sat back in surprise.
“I mean it”, Yanis’ voice gaining strength again,
“I would never hold it against you if you decide I’m not worth the trouble. Or you just can’t handle seeing me like this. I’m glad you care but I understand if I’m too much. You can leave me, I’ll manage.”
Gerry didn’t know what to say. The words bringing back that cold chill and feeling like a gut punch at the same time. Searching Yanis’ face, they retracted his hand.
Very slowly, he moved away. Only getting back to their feet when there was a good distance between them and Yanis.
Leaving the bathroom, he felt a stab of guilt. But Yanis remained quiet. Assuming the worst case, Yanis had had whatever breakdown or affective attack had left them shut-down like this a good 8 hours earlier. Gerry felt nauseous even considering that. And with how Yanis had left their phone in another room, they must have had a bad mental health day in the first place. Otherwise they would have messaged him, asking they help them through the breakdown via text.
Grabbing a bottle of water and a blanket off the couch, he went back to the bathroom. Yanis had shifted. No longer curled up where they sat. Instead their legs were stretched and their body turned towards the tub, head resting on the brink.
Like this, Gerry could take a proper look at them. Well, as good as the lack of lighting allowed for.
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jihyuncompass · 4 years
Text
Ready
Me writing about V three times this week? It’s more likely than you think. 
This is NSFW so if you’re under the age of 18 I obviously can’t do anything to stop you from reading this except ask you very nicely not to. 
Also, the MC in this is written as DFAB, generally I try to keep my MC’s gender neutral for the sake of the reader, but that just wasn’t possible here. 
Mysme Week 2020 Day Eight ( @mysmeweek2020 )
Bonus: NSFW
V/Jihyun Kim x MC 
Word Count: 3k
Summary: “I want you.” He said, his voice a breathless whisper. “I want all of you.” Your eyes widened. Maybe it was the wine but you had never seen Jihyun so bold. 
Nothing about your relationship with Jihyun from the start could be considered conventional. Meeting your boyfriend while trapped in a cult created by his ex-fiance was definitely one of the stranger ways to meet someone. This was something you both accepted quickly but it didn’t change anything about your feelings for each other. 
After your reunion you had to spend a lot of time getting to know each other. After all  you knew about his past relationship with Rika and how his mother died before you even knew his favorite movie, or his favorite food. So when you reunited, lots of time was spent slowly learning everything about each other. You went on dates often, to anywhere you could think of. Sometimes your dates had plans, going to a certain restaurant, attending an event. Other times it was more spontaneous, just deciding to meet up and figure out what to do together. Either way as long as you had each other you were more than happy. 
From the start of your actual relationship you both decided to take things slow and at your own pace. Certain things happened quicker than others, but some things took longer. Physical affection was one of the things that took awhile for you two to get comfortable with. Jihyun felt anxious about initiating anything and you didn’t want to pressure him or make him do something he wasn’t ready for. It was a kind of dance, except neither knew who was leading. Slowly, however the two of you started to get more comfortable with each other, not being so afraid of being affectionate.  
After four months together, you were both hunched over his coffee table. A movie was playing on the TV but neither of you were paying attention. A puzzle sat halfway completed, pieces scattered across the table and in the box. The two of you had discovered the puzzle while on a date a few days ago when you stopped in a bookstore to look around. The puzzle had caught Jihyun’s eye immediately and he didn’t even hesitate with buying it, excitedly telling you how he wanted to put it together with you.  
As good of a puzzle as it was, it was also an absurd amount of pieces. It would likely take several hours before you could even get close to finishing it, and your neck was starting to hurt from looking down and your eyes strained from looking at the tiny details of the puzzle pieces. 
“Maybe we should take a break.” Jihyun suggested. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his back. “This is harder than I thought it would be.” You nodded. You took the glass of wine you’d been drinking from for the past hour and finished off the last sip. Seeing this as a sign Jihyun stood up from his spot on the floor and brought over the bottle he opened earlier in the evening. “Would you like some more?” 
Holding out your glass for him to fill you nodded. “I would, not too much though.” Jihyun carefully poured the wine into your glass, careful not to fill it too much. Once he finished with yours he topped off his own glass and put the bottle back on the kitchen counter. 
He settled down next to you, your shoulders brushing. With a clink of your glasses you both took a long sip of wine. He looked over to you, watching your features with his gentle eyes. He watched the way you set the glass back down on the table, holding the glass in a way that it didn’t make too much noise touching the table. He noticed the way you exhaled a content sigh and leaned against his shoulder. 
You didn’t notice the way he was watching you when you leaned back to look at what was happening during the movie you both had forgotten about. However, you did notice when Jihyun moved his hand to gently turn your head to look at him. 
“Jihyun?” You whispered. Keeping his hand on your chin he stared at you.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked. He did that often, asking your permission before 
showing any act of physical affection more than just holding your hand, and even then he still asked once in a while. 
“Yes.” You answered him, not waiting for another second he closed the gap between you. His hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek. Almost like an instinct you moved your hand to run your fingers through his mint colored hair. Your other hand resting on his chest. 
Jihyun’s kisses were like nothing you had ever experienced before. Each one made you feel like you were in heaven. Even the brief chaste kisses felt like you were ascending to heaven, and the long, passionate kisses like this? You never wanted them to end. 
When you finally had to break away to get air you pulled away just enough to breathe, and opening your eyes you saw how he was watching you. His eyes holding a look you hadn’t ever seen on him before, he looked hungry, almost desperate. Holding his gaze for just a moment more he moved in again and met his lips with yours. This time one of his hands rested on your waist. 
As he continued to move his lips against yours, the hand placed on your waist started to move, slowly moving past your hip until it landed on your thigh and slowly moving inward. You broke the kiss and searched his expression. 
“Jihyun,” You whispered. “What are you-”
“I want you.” He said, his voice a breathless whisper. “I want all of you.” Your eyes widened. Maybe it was the wine but you had never seen Jihyun so bold. Your face blushed a bright red. 
“Are you sure you feel ready for this?” You asked him. Your hand grazed his cheek, searching in his eyes for a look of hesitation, or any kind of doubt. But looking at him, you found none of that. His eyes only held love, and warmth. 
“I’m ready, I want this, I want you, if you’ll let me.” You kissed him, gently biting 
his lower lip. When you pulled away you stayed just close enough that all you could see was his eyes, the beautiful blues staring right into yours. 
“I’m all yours, my love.” Without another word Jihyun was helping you stand, and leading you down the hall to the bedroom. 
As soon as the door was shut, you pulled Jihyun towards you to kiss him again. His hands on your waist, you moved your lips to kiss the ends of his mouth and then trailed soft kisses down his chin and neck. Stopping after you hit the collar of his shirt. 
“Can I take this off?” You asked, even if Jihyun said that he wanted this you wanted to be absolutely sure before going further. Jihyun nodded and captured your lips in another kiss. Slowly you started unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the top close to his neck and working your way down to the bottom. 
Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned you set your hands on his warm stomach and moved them up to his shoulders, gently pushing the shirt off to let it fall to the floor. Your hands roamed his chest and back, memorizing every line and muscle with your fingertips. Your mouth kissing his neck and collarbone. A hand on his chest you could feel how fast his heart was beating. 
Jihyun’s hands raised from being on your waist, slipping under the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his warm fingers on your stomach made you shiver, his touch was featherlight, moving across your skin. Working his way up Jihyun removed your shirt and reached behind your back to unclip your bra. Prepared to have to help him you were a touch surprised when you felt it unclasp without your help. 
Together you slowly undressed each other, whispering words of love and praise as you went, and once the two of you were completely undressed Jihyun took a step back to look at you fully. His breath caught in this throat. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, meeting your eyes you saw a familiar spark in his eyes. “Please let me paint you like this someday.” He stepped forward again and focused on kissing your neck, his hand cupping one of your breasts, his thumb slowly tracing over your nipple. You let out a soft moan, his touch was so gentle but it left you wanting more. 
You moved one of your hands slowly down his shoulder, reaching down until your fingers brushed against the base of his cock. Wrapping your fingers around the now-rapidly hardening member you slowly gave a few experimental strokes. Jihyun’s grip on you tightened and you heard him release a strangled mix of a gasp and a moan. 
“Do you like that?” You asked him, not stopping your movements. Struggling to speak he nodded into your shoulder. Hearing his labored breathing filled you with a sense of confidence, continuing to stoke him. Your thumb you swiped across the tip collecting some of the precum that had already accumulated, using it to lubricate his member to make your movements smoother. 
After a few more strokes Jihyun moved your hand away from him, his face was flushed red and you could see his hands shaking a tiny bit. 
“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, he shook his head. 
“Just the opposite.” He said. “You were doing too good, and I’m not done yet.” He took a hold of your hips and moved you to the edge of the bed. Your head hit the soft mattress and you quickly looked to Jihyun who was now on sinking down to his knees. Taking one of your legs that was still hanging off the bed he put it over his shoulder, he looked up towards you, seemingly asking for permission. “May I?” 
Nodding furiously, you watched as Jihyun moved in, feeling his tongue move across you, stopping right before he got to your clit. His finger reaching to circle around the sensitive nub. 
The feeling that shot through you made you gasp. Jihyun, fearing the worst pulled away to look at your face. Seeing how red your face was and how fast you were breathing. 
“Did I hurt you?” 
You shook your head. “No.” You said between pants. “Do- do that again.” Obliging your wish he continued his motions, listening to you moan above him. You reached down and held his head, your fingers running through his hair. 
After a moment Jihyun moved his fingers, tracing along your slit and stopping at your entrance. Going carefully he pushed one finger in, hearing how you gasped again at the new sensation. Spending a moment to let your body adjust he slowly pushed a second digit in. Gently pushing in and out of you, his mouth moving inwards to suck lightly on your clit. 
The pleasure was almost overwhelming, heat was pooling in your abdomen and based on how skillfully he was moving in and out you knew you wouldn't last very long. Moans left your lips louder than before. 
“Jihyun-” You moaned, “I-I’m about to-” You cut yourself off with another gasp as he put a third finger into you, your legs shaking from the feeling. Jihyun locked eyes with you. 
“If it’s alright with you.” Jihyun started. “I want to make you cum more than once for me tonight.” Your jaw dropped just the littlest bit, but looking at him you could see just how serious he looked. Swallowing thickly you answered him. 
“Okay.” With the confirmation he needed he went back in, moving at the same speed he had been before. With time picking up the pace of his fingers inside you. With one hand in his hair and the other gripping the bed sheets you felt yourself go over the edge, your hand clenched, pulling his hair just slightly. Your back arched as a wave of ecstasy rocked through you. Leaving your body shaking and nearly paralyzed from pleasure. Once you had come down a bit Jihyun removed the fingers from inside you, using his mouth to lick each one clean. 
Getting onto the bed Jihyun hovered over you, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, brushing a hand over his cheek. 
“I love you so much.” He whispered. “You’re so beautiful.” He kissed you again and pulled away just a tiny bit. “Thank you.” 
“For what?” 
“For loving me.” He started, “For waiting for me, for being patient with me, for accepting me. For everything I am.” You brought him in for another kiss, tracing his collarbone with your fingers. 
“No, thank you. For coming back to me only when you knew you were ready.” He smiled, the smile he always got when he became particularly emotional. Laughing quietly, he went back to looking in your eyes. 
“God, I would do just about anything for you.” Showing him your most genuine smile you pushed a lock of mint hair away from his face. 
“I want you inside me Jihyun. I want to feel you.” The red blush returning to his face he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and reached over to his bedside drawer. Dropping a condom packet beside him. Sitting up with him, you tore open the foil package and slid the condom down his cock, giving him a few strokes during the process. 
Laying you back down again, he positioned himself in front of your entrance. 
“You know, I’ve imagined this moment so many times.” He pressed into you just the tiniest amount. “I wondered what it would be like, how it would feel.” Pausing he leaned over to whisper directly in your ear. “How you would feel.” He pushed his cock inside you, careful to let you adjust to his size. His head pressed into your shoulder he let out a shaky moan. “God. You feel even better than I ever could have imagined.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and crossed your ankles against his back. 
Reaching your head over you kissed his cheek, and as if that was a sign he began to move. His thrusts started slow and steady, drawing a moan out of your lips. 
“Faster,” You told him. “Please go faster.” He picked up his pace, going in and out of you. Moans and cries fell from your lips, mixed with incoherent praise. You told him how good he felt, how beautiful he was, how much you loved him. 
As he continued, Jihyun could feel how close you were starting to get, and how close he was also starting to get. He pulled out of you and hooked his arms behind your back to sit up with him. 
“Come- come here.” He panted. You put your knees between him and with his hands on your hips he helped you slowly sink down onto his cock. “Is that good?” You nodded, holding onto his shoulders. His arms holding you against him. “I want to be holding you when you finish, I want to see your face.” 
With Jihyun’s help you started bouncing up and down on his cock as you held him close to you. Both of you grunting and moaning equally loud, the new position letting Jihyun hit even deeper spots inside of you. 
It didn’t take long to feel your end coming, it felt like a knot in your abdomen desperately wanting to come apart. Clutching to Jihyun tighter you moved faster, your voice raising in pitch. 
“Jihyun-” 
“It’s okay.” Holding your chin between his fingers he leaned in for a brief kiss. “Let 
Go for me, love, cum for me.” Biting your lip you moved faster, Jihyun’s hands on your hips helping you move up and down. 
Within seconds you’re overwhelmed by another wave, your nails digging into Jihyun’s back. Crying out louder than you ever had before. Helping you move Jihyun helped you ride out your orgasm. Not stopping even after it was over and your head slumped onto Jihyun’s shoulder. 
The sound of your breath in his ear and the sensation of your hands gripping onto his back was enough to bring him over the edge not too long after. His gasp turned into a deep moan and then heavy breathing as he released. Slowing his movements down to a stop. 
For a couple minutes the two of you sat there like that, silently holding each other. Hearing only the sound of each other’s breathing. After a few minutes you slowly lifted yourself off of him, collapsing onto the pillows behind you. Exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. 
Jihyun got up to get himself cleaned up, before he left the room he kissed your forehead. You lied there in bed listening to him walking around. Waiting for him to return. He returned with a wet washcloth to get you cleaned up, and then returned to the room for the second time with your two forgotten glasses of wine. 
“Oh how I love you.” You said, taking the glass from him and taking a sip while Jihyun climbed into bed next to you, pulling the covers over the both of you. You rested your head against his chest, one of his arms holding you close to him. 
He kissed you again, this one sleepy and gentle. “How was that? I didn’t do anything that made you uncomfortable did I?” Jihyun asked you. 
“Jihyun, that was wonderful. You were absolutely perfect.” You took his hand. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t like?” He shook his head.
“No, you were amazing.” He gave another sleep kiss. 
“Thank you for this.” You whispered.
“No, thank you.” Jihyun said. “You’re always so kind to me, I love you.” 
“I love you more.” You whispered to him, bringing his head down to kiss your forehead, you could feel your eyes growing heavy with sleep. 
“Impossible.” Jihyun whispered. “We should sleep now, my angel.” 
And you did, wrapped up in your lovers’ arms you drifted off to sleep. Holding him tight.  
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travllingbunny · 4 years
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The 100 rewatch: 5x04 Pandora’s Box
Another excellent episode, maybe a little less action-packed than Sleeping Giants but still fast, full of tension, new information, and many warm reunions and nice character moments - which are important to see before all these characters start having conflicts and many of these relationships get strained to the point of almost breaking later in the season. 
This one picks up immediately after the last scenes of both 5x02 (the bunker - cliffhanger with Kane as one of the fighters in the pit) and 5x03 (Eden with Bellamy, Clarke and the prisoners after Bellamy has negotiated with Diyoza, Raven and Murphy on Eligius 4), brings everyone together*, as the prisoners open the bunker and Wonkru finally gets out - and ends with the conflict that means that war between Wonkru and the Eligius prisoners is imminent. The Pandora’s Box has been opened, to use another one of Bellamy’s Greek mythology references. (Oddly enough, he makes that reference in the next episode, not in this one.)
(*Well, not everyone - Monty, Harper, Emori, Echo and Madi are MIA this episode. hiding somewhere in Eden, before they also reunite with the rest of Spacekru plus Clarke plus Wonkru in the next episode.)
If I hadn’t seen season 5 before, I’d be thinking “Will this be the best season of the show?” It is by far the season with the strongest beginning - before the plot starts to drag, building conflicts within both camps. so that war would not happen until the two-part finale. Strong beginning, strong ending, poor middle part.
After the epic Bellarke scene at the end of 5x03, this episode delivers their actual reunion, with another one of those incredibly intimate and intense hugs that Bellamy and Clarke are known for. They tend to grow in intensity, and I’ll just say this: when Tumblr flagged gifs of this hug as “explicit”, well - for once I could see why poor Tumblr bots were getting confused:
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A reunion after 6 years, during which Bellamy believed Clarke to be dead, while Clarke didn’t know if Bellamy was alive but still called him on the radio and talked to him every day for 2199 days, has to be pretty epic, and this scene delivers. It seems almost like Clarke - who had been badly tortured - wasn’t entirely sure if that was really Bellamy who emerged out of the darkness to save her, of if she was imagining it, with the way she says “You are really here!”, while crying out of happiness. The intimacy in the body language and the way they look at each other is also reflected in Clarke telling him “And now you’re home!” This goes way beyond how platonic partners and non-romantic best friends interact with each other. The scene is not just acted but directed and shot in such a way that anyone who would see it without knowing Clarke and Bellamy’s actual relationship status, would get the wrong (?) idea. For a moment, they even look like people who have been caught making out, like they don’t want these strangers to witness such an intimate moment.
Even if she did not see this scene in particular, it’s no surprise that Diyoza assumed Clarke and Bellamy were a couple (“the hostage taker and his girlfriend”) after what she saw of their interactions. Really, who wouldn’t?
Bellamy quickly updates Clarke on how everyone is - Madi, Spacekru, acknowledges that Clarke has saved them all (something multiple people do in this early part of the season) and that all of the people who went to space are safe. (”Murphy, Monty, Raven?” “Echo and Emori”. - But why the Harper erasure? This is one of the very few lines in this episode that feel wrong. She’ one of the Delinquents both of them have known since they landed on Earth and Clarke would logically care about her more than Echo, who, she barely knew and who was her enemy 90% of the time. )
Another beautiful reunion happens by radio - Murphy and Raven learn that Clarke is alive. Murphy smiles the moment he hears her voice, and Raven, teary-eyed, thanks Clarke for saving their lives. The Spacekru have been criticized a lot in the fandom for not appreciating Clarke’s sacrifice, but it has to be said that, right after they learned she was alive, they all acknowledged it and expressed gratitude. (Some of them were just later angry at her and not so ready to try to understand her perspective after living isolated for 6 years.) This is one of the very few moments of happiness in season 5 (whenever I see that screenshot of Clarke and Bellamy’s big smiles, I mistake it for a moment for a BTS photo. That’s how rare it is to see characters looking happy on the actual show.)
…………………….
Meanwhile, over in the bunker, no one is happy. and everything is dark, sad and disturbing. Octavia is full Blodreina and acting like a Roman Emperor, deciding if gladiators get to earn their freedom or not. because even being “the last” doesn’t necessarily earn you freedom now - it all comes down to the Queen’s whim. Kane is forced to fight in the pit again tomorrow. I suppose they already have the next batch of fighters ready - it would be a bit weird if she expected a bunch of new “crimes” tomorrow. But things must have gotten progressively worse if they’re now having death matches every day. If they had been condemning people to the pits at that pace throughout those 6 years, even more than 1/3 of the Wonkru would be dead. 
One thing I had not noticed before - there is a singer, singing an anthem or ceremonial song before the fights start, and it is the same woman who sang the Coalition anthem in 3x03. This somewhat changes my views of the way Grounder clans chose 100 people to survive the bunker. At least one of the clans was smart enough to include a musician, rather than a bunch of warriors. There should have been even more musicians and other entertainers (you’d expect a culture like Grounders to have some sort of epic poetry!), as that would’ve helped the life in the bunker much more than warriors (and there could have been entertainment that does not include killing). But this was probably an exception, because this person probably had a high status as a ceremonial singer.
Our first look at Abby after the time jump - and she is obviously in a bad state and pill-addicted, and both she and Kane look tired and worn down. He is protecting her and taking the guilt for her crime - stealing pills, since Abby is obviously in no state to fight - and on her part, Abby wants to confess and spare him. But Indra - who has been helping them and is clearly unhappy with the way Blodreina is ruling - is more rational and knows Kane winning is the only way to save them both. Kane, however, is choosing to take a stand and refuse to fight.
Kane and Abby got a lot of flak from the fandom and were accused of hypocrisy for their attitude to Octavia later in the season - with the argument that Abby was the one who persuaded Octavia to go through with cannibalism and killing people for refusing to ear, and that Kane knew Abby’s role in it but blamed Octavia. All these arguments presume that they were blaming Octavia for the cannibalism and everything else that happened the Dark Year. But in fact, there’s zero indication that this is what they blamed her for, and it’s pretty clear that the reason why they - and others - have issues with Blodreina is that she’s been ruling by fear and throwing people into fighting pits for all sorts of reasons, and generally being a scary tyrant/leader of a cult of death and violence. Yes, as we learn later, Abby was a crucial part of how Octavia turned into that person, but that doesn’t change the fact that she is that person now, that she has absolute power in the bunker, and people have been living in fear of her. 
Kane tries to plead with Octavia when she comes to tell him he has to fight, and at this point, he seems to still believe she could change and start making better decisions. What feels a bit off to me is that he says he’s been silent for too long - this can’t be the first time he’s tried to change her mind? He would have probably had a lot more chance to succeed if he tried much earlier.  We get the first mention of the infamous “Dark Year” (this is also the episode where we first hear “All of me for all of us”) and see Octavia getting upset at its very mention (a reveal will be dragged out for 6 more episodes). It’s interesting that Jaha and Kane both mentioned Aurora Blake’s fate in their speeches to Octavia, but they used it to say completely different things. Jaha was saying that this is what you have to do, execute everyone who is the “enemy” because they endanger your survival in any way, even if it’s having one more child. Kane was saying that’s what they shouldn’t be doing anymore, she shouldn’t be doing what they did on the Ark, but do better. Octavia ended up taking Jaha’s advice, which shaped her as leader, for better or worse. (Mostly worse, IMO.) She could have maybe taken Kane’s advice years ago, but now it’s clearly too late. 
If anything, Kane’s refusal to fight makes her more determined than ever to break him - she doesn’t want to condemn him to death, she wants to break his resistance and his stubborn insistence on morality. I don’t approve of all of Kane’s later actions in season 5, but it’s really not hard to see why, after these experiences and everything in the bunker, he thought Blodreina’s rule was the worst thing that could happen.
And then - like a Deus ex machina, the bunker door opens and Bellamy is literally coming down from above, into the darkness of Octavia’s underground realm, as the savior, bathed in light, It’s the second episode in a row where he comes as a Big Damn Hero in almost dreamlike scene, from a POV of a woman in his life, this time his sister. For a moment, Blodreina is Octavia again and hugs her brother. Clarke comes down a moment later (but she is not bathed in light - she looks at the Blake siblings from the shadows.)
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Instead of hugging, Clarke and Octavia greet each other with a forearm handshake - which is quite an interesting choice, particularly since (thanks @jeanie205) this is apparently a type of greeting associated with Roman generals greeting each other. (But only in Hollywood movies, It wasn’t a thing in actual Roman history.)
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In addition to all the reunions, some characters meet for the first time - such as Octavia and Diyoza, who are about to become rival leaders on two sides of the war. Who could have known what their relationship would turn into in season 6 and season 7?
I love the way that everyone - Bellamy, Clarke, Diyoza and the rest of the prisoners - have the “WTF is this” look when they see the fighting pit (which is all covered in blood - apparently, they don’t wash it. It’s an aesthetic, I guess.) Bellamy soon asks Octavia what the heck she’s doing (and guesses exactly what inspired her: “Someone must have read Ovid one too many times). It’s an experience she hasn’t had in years - to have her decisions questioned by someone who’s not one of her subjects and not afraid of her.
More reunions follow: Clarke and Abby, Bellamy and Miller (another relationship that will turn sour in the rest of the season), Clarke and Kane. 
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Meanwhile, on Eligius 4, Raven finds more info about Diyoza backstory - Colonel Diyoza was "something called Navy SEAL" (it makes sense that Arkers wouldn’t know about such things), decorated for valor three times, before turning into a rebel/terrorist, and leader of a movement called United Liberation Army. As we see in these articles, civilians died in these attacks, which is something Diyoza regrets in season 7 - even if her cause was right, her means were wrong.
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Raven and Murphy have some fun playing soccer, but they’re also worried about the fact they may need to murder 283 people. Raven finds it hard, so Murphy offers to do it to spare her. It’s typical for their relationship that Murphy tends to see Raven as someone better and more moral than himself (in spite of the fact that she once tried to sacrifice him instead of Fin), while Raven often says disparaging things about him, even though she is fond of him.
One thing I found a bit odd that Murphy at one point says: “Why do you have to always be the one to sacrifice?” - even though this was just the second time Raven has decided to sacrifice herself, and he wasn’t even around for the first time - trying to blow the bridge in 1x10. But Murphy seems to have a somewhat idealized view of Raven, driven by his guilt over crippling her and his self-loathing. Or maybe he meant the others in the group in general. as he sees himself as the selfish cockroach as opposed to them. (Note: I initially wrote this in my 5x03 review, before I realized it was actually said in this episode. That’s what happens when you finalize posts after having seen two episodes ahead.)
Raven and her future love interest Shaw try to outsmart each other in hacking (Raven even kind of flips a bird at Shaw at one point - it’s like they are having a digital meet cute without having even met.) 
But when Diyoza finds a way to outsmart Spacekru by suffocating Raven and Murphy - Raven tells Murphy to pull the lever (usually Clarke’s job) and kill the prisoners; and when he hesitates, she goes into her fierce/ruthless mode and goes “Fine, I’ll do it”, before Murphy comes up with the smart solution that prioritizes survival and also doesn’t include mass murder - a win-win, except it also takes away Bellamy’s leverage. 
I wonder where the standoff between Wonkru and the Eligius prisoners would have led after Diyoza took Abby and Kane with her and announced her people were taking over Eden? Would war still have been inevitable? I can’t see Octavia giving up on Eden so easily. In any case, the war here was started by an idiot who shot an incredibly destructive weapon at Octavia just because her arrogant Blodreina grin pissed her off. (This guy, called Szybunka, is a part of McCreary’s faction, and here we first learn that they are preparing a rebellion against Diyoza, though McCreary thinks it’s still not time for it.)
A lot more deaths were prevented by Shaw, Major props for him in this episode both for that, and because he is the first person to finally make the point that there are so few people left of the human race and that it is incredibly stupid to kill more of them
Octavia immediately blames Bellamy for everything - even though he was the reason why she and Wonkru got out of the bunker instead of being stuck there forever/  And this time, I’m sure this was 100% meant to highlight that she has a habit of unfairly placing blame on Bellamy whenever something goes wrong in her life. 
Body count: I haven’t been doing these for a while, but now I’m doing the body count for the entire season 5 so far:
Wonkru - we learn in this episode that, out of the 1200 people in the bunker, there are 814 remaining. So, 386 - almost a third - died during those 6 years. That includes 3 people who died in the fighting pit. An additional Wonkru member is killed by the idiot Szybunka while protecting Octavia, leaving 813.
Eligius prisoners - two of the party on Earth were killed by Madi and Clarke in 5x01, Four more were killed in 5x03 - one shot by Clarke, another one mercy killed by Diyoza after getting into one of Clarke’s traps, two more shot by Madi to save Bellamy, Monty, Harper, Emori and Echo. On the ship, Kodiak, the big guy Diyoza activated as a weapon (”activate Kodiak!”) was killed in self-defense by Bellamy with help from Echo and Raven. And in 5x04, Szybunka is killed by McCreary for his stupidity. This leaves 282 prisoners on the ship and an unknown smaller number on Earth. 
Rating: 8/10
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magneticmage · 3 years
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Quiz Meme; OC-style
I was tagged by @rozhevisny to take this quiz.
I also ended up doing a number of my OCs. They are under the cut for length.
I am tagging @awellboiledicicle @mikkeneko @changeling-fae @higheverweave @yusukesmomjeans @dalishious and @draxen1123 but don't feel pressured to do so if you don't wanna! It's all for fun.
(Inquisitors)
Paeriel Lavellan="You're choking on how much you have to try". Accurate by the time of Inquisition (specifically around Skyhold) as Paeriel very much embodies the virtue of suledin. She can handle the amount she's dealt with but it is still a burden and she worries about how it will affect others if she slips and drops under the weight. She doesn't want more harm to come to innocents and those who are already struggling under their own burdens (mages, dwarves, elves, even the templars to some degree), and yet it is a fight that continues on and on seeming without end. Just as Solas walks his path to break the systems oppressing people, she tries to work within those same systems to better chances for those who need it.
Armashok Adaar="You were meant to". Accurate prior to his joining the Inquisition. He spent so much of his life struggling to find his place as everyone told him what to be; silent, obediant, a weapon to be protected against. He chafed and struggled to find comfort in it and yet he ultimately realized that he was his own person. No one could tell him who and what he was or was meant to be, not even his wife. So he chose for himself; To be Armashok Adaar.
Ransley Trevelyn="This isn't enough for you" Also accurate for pre-Inquisition Ransley, as he balked against his family expectations. They wanted him to marry a nice noblewoman of status and wealth. He courted them but couldn't quite bite the bullet as something about them just lacked....something. Even when he met his lover, he struggled against the fact that they had to be discreet for her reputation as a Knight-Divine. His family demanded he become a Templar, he decided the Seekers would be a better use of his talents. Always when he was told something, his innate ambition would push him for more and better things. While he can give up things as needed, he dislikes it. That last part is something he struggles with-and notably fails during Trespasser-post-Inquisition. This is a trait that Josephine can understand, though like their lover Cassandra, she tempers it in herself and him with patience.
Naranka Cadash="Because you have made mistakes you cannot swallow" Pfft. Yeah, this is very much her. She seeks redemption just as badly as Paeriel does for Solas, just as badly as Blackwell-her love interest-does.
(Inner Circle)
Kara Adaar="Because you cannot hold freedom". Very true. She's seen what freedom has cost her parents to give her a better life and plans to make the most of hers. That desire to enjoy life is shared with Sera. The desire to understand the world through the lens of ensuring that freedom for others is something she shares with Dagna.
Emilyse Trevelyan="You swallow pain and fold around it" Yikes. This is accurate to her time in the Circle, however. She spent much of her time trying to be a "good" mage, despite a number of abuses by the Templars and the Chantry. It was only when her brother visited her during his training as a recruit that some of those abuses came to light and she was brought to the Circle in Ostwick, closer to home and with the newly added bribes to ensure her safety, she did much better. However, this newfound life did not for too long as the Rebellion broke out and she was left adrift for a time before making her way with some other refugees to the Conclave at Haven. She was nervous about so many Templars, but eventually found solace and peace with Cullen as they each began to heal over their own traumas of their respective sides, and together as they began a family shortly after Trespasser.
Samrel Lavellan="because you cannot hold freedom" Interesting. He's actually one of my simplest OCs; a simple life with his clan and husband, First to the Keeper and cousin to Paeriel, is all he wants. Unlike some of my other Dalish OCs, he hasn't faced quite the same level of hardship and loss, and though he does mourn the loss of his clan, he seeks to rebuild it alongside his husband and the few survivors that managed to escape the humans' blades. So perhaps that defiance of the losses inflicted harkens back to the Dale's and the elves' refusal to submit to the Alienages, by simply standing up and saying "No, you cannot silence us" is enough? That could be a type of freedom and there is power in that refusal. Thoughts to consider more later.
Pyrmar Cadash="This isn't enough for you". Oh that's interesting. Pyrmar is one of those characters that seems super simple (ex-surfacer Carta bruiser with a notable penchant for leadership as a Champion) and, for the most part, he is. He likes drink and fun as much as any other mercenary like the Chargers. But, like Dorian, he sometimes feels inadequate in some way. As if he is meant for more; to be and do more. Most notably for basic respect and care, something his upbringing in the cutthroat nature of the Carta was missing. Dorian shows him that he is capable of love and being loved and The Iron Bull gives him the respect and belonging he lacked previously. While he can still fall orey to his baser nature at times, his heart as grown much over the years and so it becomes less common to "want more" as he used to.
(Last Court)
Aurore de Serault="Because you have made mistakes you can't swallow" Ooo. She does carry some lingering guilt and grief over her late husband's death at the hands of the Game. She struggles with the Orlesian court at times, and much prefers solitude and peaceful quiet to gossipy ballrooms and noble Lords and ladies demanding a dance, a bonding point for her and her love interests of The Silent Huntsman and the Elegant Abbess. However, it's not that she's unskilled in the Game; in fact, she's quite good at it. She simply prefers simplicity to more complex machinations. All that said, she does regret the ferocity with which she holds grudges; she had gone on to murder the entire families of those individuals responsible for her husband's death.
Marcel de Serault="You swallow pain and fold around it". Hmmm. Not sure of this one. Marcel divorced his wife to pursue a cloistered and scholarly life in pursuit of knowledge (he was once a Chevalier). Eventually he began to crave the adventure of the Game again, which is how he fell for The Wayward Bard and the Dashing Outlaw. Again, not too sure but it's interesting. Perhaps he simply internalized his losses and pain?
(Hawkes)
Knight-Commander Jasper Hawke of Kirkwall="because you've made mistakes you can't swallow" Oh cool! Jasper watches his younger siblings-three of his fellow quadrupled and Carver- go off into the Deep Roads expedition. He made the decision to stay behind to protect Bethany and their mother in case things went south. Despite assurances from his departing siblings, things did go south. After being pissed at Batrand, he sighed and went to work for the Templars. Shortly thereafter, despite his best efforts, Bethany was caught by Templars and taken to the Circle. Jasper did what he could to protect and shield his sister from the worst abuses of the Templars under Meredith's command, no matter the personal costs and enmity it earned him from his siblings and companions. It even ended his relationship with Anders around the beginning of Act 2. After Meredith was defeated, he worked with Cullen to try and reform the Templars and rebuild Kirkwall post-Chantry boom. His efforts were strained once red lyrics began to show up and corrupt his fellow templars. Despite narrowly avoiding being swept into the group while infiltrating it to gather intel, he succeeded in driving them out. When Cullen left for the Inquisition, he stepped up to continue reforming the Templars for protecting the mages. While he originally balked at the pro-mage decisions of the Inquisition, he ultimately agreed that the Chantry had abused all of its charges-mages and templars both. He began to reshape the Templars under his command to fit in line with the changing world; a choice to take lyrium, and a recovery and rehabilitation plan set in stone for all members who wished to leave, new rules and regulations in place to protect the rights and dignity of both mages and Templars, slowly making them a secular force beyond the Chantry but under the control of Vivenne's newly reformed Circle of Magi perhaps. He does what he believes to be right and for the best of his family, even if they dislike his decisions. A trait he no doubt picked up from his mother.
Lord Gray Hawke of House Amell="You swallow pain and fold around it" This is fitting for Lord Amell. While Jasper and Violet always held loft goals to pursue and Skye simply wanted to go and see the world for all it was, Gray preferred to remain at home and tend to their family. He is the one most connected to the Amell legacy rather than the Hawke self-made determination. That's not to say it isn't there; he's more than willing to help others and make something of himself, but it comes back to wanting to appease and help his family in whatever ways he could. He pines for Anders for a great deal of time, but doesn't make a move due to either Jasper dating the mage or simply not wanting to be a rebound for his brother. In the end, however, Anders surprises him (perhaps nudged on by Skye and Violet) by initiating a kiss and the two quickly develop into a stable relationship. He is even willing to leave all he'd built to go on the run with Anders and further aid him in his cause. Gray is just a cutie who wants a simple meal and a nice husband. If he gets to watch Anders shoot lightning at fools, well, who is he to laugh?
Viscountess Skye Hawke="Because you cannot hold freedom". Accurate. Skye loves her freedom. While she is certainly ambitious, it often comes down to more power means more freedom. She rules as Viscountess of Kirkwall for a time until abdicating in favor of Varric so she can pursue Tallis across the seas, but also to simply go back to adventuring and exploring. While she does not care for the Qun and its Qunari, she cares about people and her family most of all. It is one of the few tethers she did not choose but it is the one she keeps above all others. After all, even the Sky must touch the earth at some point just as a Hawk must return to its nest to rest and tend its young.
Champion Violet Hawke of Kirkwall="Because you have made mistakes you cannot swallow". Fitting given that Violet is both a blood-mage (also a spirit-healer and force-mage) and extremely pro-mage freedom, and her choices often led her to conflict with Jasper due to their views and lives. She has only ever wanted to be free to live her life as she chooses, with is how she fell for Isabela. She fell for Fenris because she's a bleeding heart who wants to help everyone as much as she can. Kirkwall left its mark on her and she's struggling to do better than what she views as a failure due to her diplomatic nature in the name of mage freedom by the time the Inquisition comes around. While just as driven by the cause for equality as Anders, she often privately struggled with her mother's death among the many other revelations and choices of her family, fearing the loss of all she called dear. Luckily Fenris and Isabela returned to her and they made a pact to live well on the seas after everything had settled down and Champion Hawke was no longer needed.
(Awakening)
Senior Warden Dion Caron="This isn't enough for you" Okay. So, Dion joined the Wardens to escape the Templars (p.s. it didn't work) and his adopted sister Victoire-Ainsley was already joining and he had promised to protect her for their parents. He's happily married to Garam and spends much of his time training recruits and fostering camaderie in the ranks of the Wardens. What more could he want? Perhaps it is nothing and the doubt is simply there as is human nature, perhaps he frets about his dwindling time in the world before his Calling, perhaps he does want more. Who can say?
Senior Warden/Warden-Constabke Victoire-Ainsley Caron of Orlais="This isn't enough for you" Pfft. Victoire-Ainsley's ambition to make a name for herself and her family (she came from a long line of Chevaliers) nearly cost her her life and resulted in her father's death. Her mother adopted an orphan boy-Dion-in the hopes it would curb some of her darker tendencies. It partially succeeded. While she did not go as far as she'd once been willing, she still acted ruthlessly and this earned her quite the name in the Game for a time. However, her fall from grace was just as bloody as her rise, and she was only spared by the intervention of the Wardens' Conscription. She lost a great deal and was now forever barred from reclaiming it. She acted out for a time and was surprised when the Wardens allowed-encouraged even-it. However the death of her husband to save them during a nasty skirmish against a powerful broodmother she'd led them against resulted in a mission successful but at a cost she hadn't wanted to pay; only her, Dion, Garam, and I senna made it out alive. Since then, she had been working towards redeeming herself, opening up to the criticism and vulnerability she'd been so afraid of, much like Loghain is when he is sent to Orlais. And so while her pride demands more of her, she focuses instead on what she can provide and tries to bite back the bile this causes. After all, this is for the best and that is enough. Right?
Senior Warden Isenna Andras="You were meant to" Isenna lived first under the Orlesian cruelty in the Alienate and then the Templars' in the Circle. It is no wonder she fights to carve a name for herself in history, to make herself her own, to be what she was never meant to even dream of. She wants to be a hero but struggles against her own inner nature to survive. She is driven by the conflict of selflessness and self-preservation. Perhaps Mhairi's idealism is enough to tip the scales for her.
Senior Warden Garam Kader="Because you have made mistakes you cannot swallow" Accurate. He joined the Wardens after passing off the wrong Carta Boss and then spent years helping Victoire-Ainsley and her brother grow their ambition and then....his unit died beyond the four of them. And all the glamor of the Wardens fell away and he realized just how far some would go and he began to wait for them to step back, hoping they would step back. Victoire-Ainsley and Dion and Isenna did. He did. But the Clarel didn't. He hopes Loughlin will do better as the Warden-Commander of Orlais. He knows he will do better and he knows his husband, Dion, will.
(Wardens)
Warden-Commander Lynera Mahariel of Fereldan="You were meant to" Ouch my heart. Lynera lost Tamlen and never quite recovered. She was forced into a Warden and then into leading the party as the Hero of Fereldan and then into the role of Warden-Commander/Arlessa of Amaranthine and she did it. She took all the pain and hurt and losses over the years, the Taint and its horrors and its strength sapping, the politics and hard decisions; she took it all and she did it. She did what was needed, became what a Grey Warden Commander and hero was meant to be. She can't even say she regrets becoming a Warden anymore as its become so central to her identity now, only mourns the things and people she's lost to get there. I think Sten-excuse me-the Arishok understands this. Perhaps that is why they both hope to never meet on a battlefield unless they are on the same side again.
Warden Isemaya Tabris="You swallow pain and fold around it" Okay that's like SUPER interesting. See, Isemaya learned about the injustices elves face early in life. It cost her her mother's life and very nearly her twin brother's as well, after all. She became a warrior to protect them (her family, her community, her home) and she was good at it. But then she saw a glimpse of a different life with Nelaros, one where she might be happy simply letting someone else deal with all the fighting and clawing and exhaustion. She wanted it, she realized, she wanted it very much. But then she lost him and Shianni was hurt and she was hurt and Vaughn was dead and the humans were so angry. She geared up to protect her people again, to be the brave warrior like her mother before her. And then....Duncan Conscripted her. She was forced from her home, alive and angry and proud, and so she expanded her family to her companions. Then Zevran tried to kill them and they let him live and she watched him like a hawk and saw the same longing for a life, for more in the absence of loss, in him. She helped him heal and learn to live again and he helped her set down her weapons and her anger for a time and then the times became more frequent and they grew closer. She told him she loved him in the brisk Haven air and he gave her a golden earring to match the old and blood-stained wedding band she still wore, and she had found peace. She continued with the Wardens, with helping him take down the Crows, with searching for a cure so they could have more time. She took her pain but instead of weaponizing it like Lynera and others did, she learned to let it go and continue on. She learned to live in spite of, not because of, her pain.
Arcane Advisor Catriona Surana of Fereldan= "Because you have made mistakes you cannot swalllow" Oof. This is definitely Catriona during Origins. Her decisions to betray Jowan, to use blood magic at Ostagar and then to continue to practice and study it despite the stigma it holds, the merging with Compassion to save Cale, to give up her dreams of marriage and freedom and let Alistair marry Anora for the good of Fereldan and again when Leliana went on to become the Left Hand of the Divine and then again as the Divine Victoria...she makes a lot of mistakes and the consequences haunt her for a very long time. While she does manage to find some good in them, or at least simply makes peace with them, they still color how she becomes in 2 and Inquisition and beyond.
Warden Cale Amell=
Teryn Fion Cousland of Gwaren=
Paragon Prince Barran Aeducan=
Warden Paragon Tatha Brosca=
(Origins)
First/Keeper Vireth Mahariel=
"Dark Wolf" Elthorn Tabris=
"Stormcaller" Alaros Surana=
Lord Azul Amell=
Lady "Nightshade" Raven Amell=
Lord Carmine Amell=
Lord Reed Amell=
Lady Marigold Amell=
Captain "Highever Spitfire" Aelynne Cousland=
Princess and Orzammar Commander Valda Aeducan=
(Canon Solo Shepard)
Commander and Spectre Annette Shepard=
(The Sibling Shepards Canon)
Spectre Riley Shepard=
Spectre/XO Roscoe "Ros" Shepard=
Spectre/Commander Joanna "Jo" Shepard=
(Shepard Cousins)
Angelus "Angel" Shepard=
Elliot "El" Shepard=
Jaden "Jay" Shepard=
Alexandra "Alex" Shepard=
Kristopher "Kris" Shepard=
Clover "Clove" Shepard=
(Starship Ryders Canon)
Pathfinder Lucas "Luke" Ryder=
Pathfinder Rebecca "Becca" Ryder=
Pathfinder Shiloh "Shy" Ryder=
Pathfinder Evander "Evan" Ryder=
Pathfinder Asher "Ash" Ryder=
(Baldur's Gate)
Cei Gloomdraft=
Faenerys Elendir=
"Sable Shades" Risaeder Rosandoral=
Saga "Muse" Musehart=
Lyr(e/a/an) Lovemoor=
Rune Mistsea=
Lucine Mistsea=
Roan Roarke=
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ambroseias · 4 years
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「lorenzo zurzolo & male/questioning」⇾ ambrose , elijah, the junior horton student’s records show that he is an virgo and 21 years old. he is studying classics and econ, living in noland and can be charming, diligent, self-centered & vain. when i see him i am reminded of clenched teeth, pyrrhic victories & a laugh that comes to haunt you. ⇽「momo & 20 & est & any pronouns.」 
“all stories are about wolves. all worth repeating, that is. anything else is sentimental drivel.” - margaret atwood
hi it’s momo ur resident mess and this is adapted from a previous intro i did so pls dont make fun of me if u catch mistakes. if u like this, i’m coming into ur dms to plot and, if u don’t, i’m still yearning for connection with ur chara. pls. come validate my cliched average bacchanalian icarus bitch, toxic faerie princeling, dark academia fuccboi, dorian grey in the FLESH.
full bio to be found HERE bulleted bio below
AESTHETICS.
sunlight on skin in the morning, like ribbons of gold gleaming between tousled sheets. he throws his head back, laughing. if you do not love him, then you will now. clothes, always pressed. hair, meticulously in place. a dog-eared copy of a streetcar named desire in the crook of his arm. lies. they come so easy to boys like him. lies. tinged honey sweet to hide the fact that there is nothing but teeth behind them. you’ve seen his face in a painting somewhere, you’re certain. and if not, then it haunts you in your dreams. kisses that always taste like champagne, no matter what time it is. if you cut him open, he’d be more red wine than blood. secrets. there is something he’s not telling you. secrets. something rotten behind that sweet-faced grin. walden and thoreau in place of a father figure. choosing dickinson instead of the mother he had. clenched teeth. pyrrhic victories. he wins, always, but at what cost? climb into his chest, now. ignore that miraculously still-beating heart. feel how hollow it is here? he has tried to fill this emptiness his whole life. he has never succeeded.
BULLETED BIO
TW parental issues
first off, say mommy issues into a mirror 3x and this bitch appears behind u like the demon he is
‘that’s it. thats the chara.
im jk but not rlly. eli is the only child to one of radcliffe’s esteemed feminism + gender studies professor (prof. vivianne ambrose) and their relationship has always been... rough
it’s not for lack of love. it’s just that-- sometimes, people are too alike. and it’s hard to apologize and express the love that you feel.
halfway “ignored” by his mother, he’s spent his entire life trying to gain the attention and love of everyone around him. he definitely tries to shift his personality to be the person u want him to be--- but can only really settle on pretentious intellectual + wild child
so ig what i’m trying to say is that ... he’s the duality of man if both dualities were the WORST and most pretentious
mostly, what’s happened is that the people who like him really like him. and the people who don’t-- he refuses to spend the time of day on.
+ like ! i guess the best way to describe him is bright, glittering, hard to look at directly.
he wants u to want him.
but he doesn’t want u to know him
classics n econ bc honestly, he wants to be a professor like his mom and teach classics or theatre BUT he refuses to admit it so he’s getting a double major in econ and telling himself he’s gonna be like a politician or lawyer or some other slick shit
he... ............... would make a good politician probably. 
but still. 
he rattles off a list of dream roles he wants to play. hamlet. coriolanus. oedipus. caesar. creon. gatsby. some are leads, some aren’t. but most of all-- “they’re tragedies,” you say, “you really like tragedies that much?”
he laughs glibly. “no--” he says, “god, of course not. but they’re the only things i can play. look, i know what i look like. i know what you think of me. deep down, you want nothing more than to see me suffer. on stage, you can.”
“and off-stage?“ you ask tentatively. his eyes flash green, his lips press together almost imperceptibly,  “oh come on. look at me. no one’s ever going to deny me of what i want.“
it’s a lie, of course. but it’s a good one. and it’s one that he goes to sleep telling himself.
pls i beg u!! yes, he’s terrible, but, deep down, i think he wants to be good. i think he wants to be soft. but the only time he ever got his mother’s attention was when he was doing something wrong and it’s made his perception of how love is supposed to be— skewed.
he definitely FEELS like an old soul, but he also probably has a very active thirst instagram using oscar wilde and margaret atwood quotes as captions
i hate him dearly pls
IMMA ADD MORE WANTED CONNECTIONS
people who have studied under/knows his mom -- ur too close. everytime he sees u he flinches. he’ll walk in during ur consultation with his mother and the two of them will stiffly update each other on their day and ur like god dang what a weird ass relationship. alternately, he’ll sit outside his mother’s office while ur doing consults. and u can’t help but wonder... god... what kind of mom, would make her child wait.
friends/enemies/etc. from childhood --- he grew up near the university has always been around town
wld die for a childhood crush on him or from him, but likely from him bc that’s cute af
a childhood friend that has always been his ride-or-die, even though they’ve definitely grown apart bc elijah has a fear of Emotional Intimacy!! but u knew him once and u know... there’s a real boy behind that layer of pretense.
step/half-siblings !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! --- his mom might have remarried! his bio dad maybe is lurking out there with another family! who knows!
a tormentor --- for anyone who knows the ambrose family, its’ not hard to see that the relationship btwn mom + son is strained. and like-- that’s something eli is always gonna be sensitive abt. ur chara knows that eli isn’t the hard shell he pretends to be. he’s just a soft boi longing for approval + that scares tf out of eli
people who eli hates -- mostly softs who remind him of his own failure to become completely unfeeling
rlly pretentious friends
unpretentious not friends
party friends
litcherally anything
neighbors
one night stands
fwbs
exes (elijah is tentatively pan, but objectively hates labels)
i live for apartment plots so pls hit me up if ur chara lives in noland
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smarti-at-smogwarts · 4 years
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The Venturi Family
I wanted to make a post about my MC’s family, since their reactions to some parts of the gameplay have been noodling around in my brain. Only the immediate family though. 
Jacob Derek Venturi
FC Michael Seater 
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Jacob was the first born son of Abigail Rowle and George Venturi, and the older brother of Edwin and Marti Venturi. He was the one out of his siblings to spend the most time with his parents together and while their separation was hard for him to deal with at first he started noticing his mother was in a better mood and overall better to be around after the separation.  Jacob was four years old when his little brother Edwin was born and ten years old when Marti was born, as such his relationships with them were different. With Edwin they were more brothers than anything and often he teased him as much as played with him and bossed him around. Marti however due to him being younger and their parents separating when she was still in diapers he became much more a doting older brother. He did however care about and was protective of both his siblings. 
He had a good relationship with his parents though he was a bit closer to his father because of him keeping custody of him and his siblings. Abby visited and kept him for weekends so overall he was fairly affectionate and close to both of them. He knew he could get away with more with his father since out of the two, he was a bit more lax in parenting and could often take advantage of that though  since the separation was civil they tended to stick together when he was -inevitably- punished for something [ ‘’why can’t you not get along like most divorced parents..yeah i know grounded.’’]
Personality-wise Jacob was charismatic and outgoing, which gained him a lot of friends wherever he went. Having been an only child for four years and then still the eldest, and been born to fairly young parents  who could be said to be a bit soft on him, he grew up with the mentality that he could get get away with things if he just figured out how to get what he wanted. He was sneaky and a bit snarky and was known for pulling pranks and getting in trouble but it was mostly kid stuff..until his alleged involvement with [Redacted] after his disappearance came through. He was known in his time at school as an affable and charismatic kid,  if a bit known for getting Howlers and well acquainted with the detention process.
Due to how long he has been missing. ( he was sixteen when he went missing and would have been twenty one as of Marti’s first year.)  The case of his disappearance has more or less gone cold. 
George Antonio Venturi
FC:  John Ralston 
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gif by yours truly 
George works as an wizard attorney. He’s an alumni of Hufflepuff house and married one of his closest friends ( Abigail) straight out of Hogwarts. This was done partly so that Abigail could escape an incredibly toxic home. However, if you asked him he’d say at the time he did love her. 
It became apparent however as time passed ( and three children were born) their marriage seemed to become strained. They separated with George keeping custody of the kids. 
Due to his own strict upbringing, he has a very lax style of parenting, often trying to be their kids friend as well as parent: ( More so with Jacob than Ed and Marti since Jacob caught him younger) an approach he also takes with his step children.  While this can often catch him criticism there’s no question his children adore him. 
He was really close to his son Jacob and losing him was absolutely devastating to him. If it wasn’t for his other two kids he might as well not have been able to keep going. 
His dating and marriage to Nora was something he was hesitant about ( not in the least because there were children involved on both sides but also because of how badly losing his son had hit him)  but it  has helped him move forward after all the grief he experienced.
Abigail Leticia Rowle
FC :  Amy Adams
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Abigail comes from a highly extremist and toxic family. The Rowles affiliated with Voldemort during the first wizarding war and had very high expectations of the children of their house. For Abigail, Hogwarts was an escape; one that she knew wouldn’t last long as she would have to leave upon graduation. This is something that she knows influenced her decision to marry one of her best friend from Hogwarts who ( as a pureblood wizard) was also acceptable for her family and so wouldn’t bring retribution for them.
There’s no doubt she loved George but as time passed she realized she was’t happy. She had spent all her life in survival mode due to her parents and now that she was out she was starting to realize how much it influenced her decision. She loved her children, but she slowly realized she could not be a good parent to them in the state she was in. 
She separated from George ( after making sure her family could not contact her about  it) and more or less gave him full custody of their 3 kids with her doing visits to spend time with them. 
Her friendship with George survived this and they were still friends as exes and able to coparent ( though undoubtedly George did more as he had full custody, this was okay with both of them) However, Jacob’s disappearance put a strain in it neither one has been able to mend. Like George, Abby blames herself for how things with Jacob turned out and when things were at their worst they couldn’t help but project that blame to each other. She still visits Ed and Marti but her interactions with George are much more brief and cold. 
Edwin Alphonse Venturi 
FC : Chris Wood
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Jacob and Marti’s middle sibling and George and Abby’s middle child. Edwin was born when Jacob was 4-5 and is also 4-5 years older than Marti ( so is in his 5th year as of her first year and graduates after her second year) He’s a Ravenclaw and a foil to his extroverted outgoing little sister. Edwin is  much more likely to be found buried in books than around people. Due to Jacob’’s loss ( which happened in when he was 10-11)  and how much it affected him he is fiercely protective of his family. ( which Marti sometimes finds annoying though she is just as protective of him even if it shows less/differently ) 
He and Marti have a very “dork” “brat” relationship though they also have each other’s back unconditionally as they share the title of “Jacob’s sibling”
Unlike Marti tough, the wants to move on from Jacob and all the pain it caused him and as the game progresses is likely to react Badly to her thinking she can find him. Their beliefs about Jacob and reactions to his disappearance and rumors thereafter are already a strain between them as of year one. (Considering Plot happens from then on it’s safe to say it’ll only grow. )
10 facts about Edwin
Elizabeth  Blair -Lizzie- Mcdonald
FC: Jordan Todosey
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Lizzie is a Hufflepuff and also Marti and Edwin’s step sister and George’s step daughter. She is Nora’s youngest daughter and how Nora met George. She’s the only witch in her family and became best friends with Edwin shortly after their  families blended ( actually George and Nora met Because they were both school shopping and Nora looked understandably lost ) She also has a pretty good big sister/little sister relationship with Marti. She’s in Edwin’s year and like him will have graduated as of Marti’s second year. 
Lizzie’s the embodiment of Hufflepuff’s traits of kindness and tolerance ( and patience, enough to befriend Edwin at his angriest) .She’s supportive of her family and friends and tends to be the voice of reason for whichever sibling she’s with. Her two main loves are animals and quiditch. She plays as a beater for the Hufflepuff team. She also has enough pets ( both magical and not) George jokingly got her zoo sign to put on her bedroom door. ( Marti liking snakes is absolutely her influence) She’s likely to wind up working in Magizoology. 
Nora Jean Mcdonald.
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FC: Emily Deschanel 
The stepmother to Edwin and Marti Venturi and wife to George Venturi. Nora was introduced to the magical world when her youngest daughter turned 12 and received her Hogwarts letter. She started dating George when Edwin and Lizzie were 13 and Marti was 8. She adores her husband and his kids and from the get-go made a point to treat them as her own. 
Cassandra Imogen Mcdonald 
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FC: Cassidy Freeman 
Nora’s first daughter. Her mother married George Venturi when she was 17-18. Went to an all girls school while her sister went to Hogwarts. As such she doesn’t have much interaction with the magical world or her stepsiblings, though she was exposed to it before moving out of her parent’s house. She does keep in touch with them though even if she’s more distant. She lives with her girlfriend Emily Davis ( fc Madeleine Mantock)  in muggle Brittain. She cares a lot about her mom and little sister, and is happy they have people to help them through everything that comes from navigating the magical world. 
Pets 
Ozzie the Owl
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Ozzy belonged to Jacob and was named after a musician he liked.  After Jacob’s disappearance he was almost given away by a grief stricken George but was saved by Edwin. He resides with Edwin in Ravenclaw tower and is for all intents and purposes his owl. 
Mickey the Snake
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Mickey is a grass snake ( a smooth snake specifically) that was found hurt by Marti on one of her visits to her mother. After he was nursed back to health Marti decided to keep him. He lives in Marti’s room. Marti’s very attached to him. 
Ignoring Lizzie’s pets because as said before that would take a whole nother post.
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