#his full shock expression gets used for like two lines of dialogue!

[windienine]

please understand that while loïc was not strictly constructed in a lab for anyone but his creator, i sometimes reopen soulsov just to look at his sprites some more

#he has a specific eyes-averted one just for lying to a cop! #his full shock expression gets used for like two lines of dialogue! #a bunch of the sprites have microexpressions!! #so much i missed the first time through #i haven't thirstposted openly about any character in maybe eight years but the fact that this dilf opened the floodgates #/before/ much of the really heavily anticipated dungeon meshi adaptation moments #is nuts to me #he's a priest. he's a heretic. he's the end of the world. he gave himself over to someone who hurt him. he's a single father. #he's a naturalist. he's a former academic. he's painfully kind to everyone he meets. he bears tremendous guilt. he's... glasses. #<3333

[hopelessromantic423]

Back to Where We Started

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After the blip, you fell off the grid. One random day Bucky Barnes shows up at your door and you two have a lot more than just aliens to talk about.

Warnings: lonely reader, talks about the blip in general, kissing, Bucky calling you sweetheart, a little too much dialogue, idk you might hate it you might like it. Angst??

A/N: howdy! I’m too lazy to proofread so be warned.

After the battle against Thanos, you kinda fell off the grid. You didn't talk to Bucky or Sam, nobody. Trying to understand being blipped and how you jumped into a battle you had just lost, it took a tole mentally.

You sat in your apartment floor, sorting though five years worth of mail that was packed in a large sack. You'd smile at the few birthday cards or Christmas cards. Then you'd cry after seeing cards and letters that made you remember all the time you missed.

You were about half way through the mess when a loud knock appeared at your door. "Give me a minute," you called struggling to step over the many empty envelopes.

You didn't care to peek through the peephole, thinking it was some religious order, you unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Bucky," you said in complete shock.

He looked good and more put together than he had ever appeared. His chestnut brown hair was short and he wore a nice black coat that fit like a good jacket should. His eyes were full of worry like a thousand thoughts were filling his brain the moment he laid eyes on you.

You forgot how nice it was too see a familiar face. You and Bucky had always been close. At one point you thought of him as your best friend, and crush. Right on the battle, you told him you loved him. You really did love him. You still do.

So the minute you saw him, all you could do was embrace him. Your arms wrapped around him and his quickly did the same. Before you could notice, a few tears had fallen on his jacket from your cheeks.

Finally you pulled away simultaneously wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Sorry, I'm just really happy to see you James."

"No ones heard from you, I just needed to know you were alive. I was really worried about you."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Why don't you come in," you motioned. "Don't mind the pile of mail."

"I had some too. Luckily it all went to the compound so Steve took care of it."

"You cut your hair," you mumbled awkwardly as he stepped over your pile of mail.

"I did. I remembered how much you begged me to cut it, so I just went for it."

"To be clear, I was right,” you smirked while feeling your cheeks getting red by the second. “It really frames your face perfectly."

"So how's the team?” You leaned against your kitchen countertop as you asked. “Did Steve take the stones back?"

Bucky's face immediately dropped. "Steve he dropped off the stones and then um.. he stayed in the past. He's 102 now. Wrinkles and all."

"Oh." The lull of silence filled the room soon followed by a "yea," by Bucky.

"Well, how are you? Are you still at the compound."

"I moved back to Brooklynn, and under my pardon I'm seeing a therapist."

"Is she a good therapist?"

One hum out of Bucky and a uncertain facial expression gave you all the answer you needed.

"What happened Y/N?"

"After the battle, I was just done. I was trying to piece together the blip and then we won a battle we had just lost. I just fell off the grid and went back to the one place I knew and that was here. Luckily it hadn't been touched, but I know that's not the case for many people."

"You could've called me, you could've called any of us."

"Everyone is going through the same thing Buck, why bother someone if the problem isn't that special."

"Sweetheart, are you saying you're not special?"

Your eyes glanced up and he could see the tears starting to line them. He took your shaky hands in his to get a better look at you and immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.

"You are nothing but special Y/N. Don't ever feel you're not worthy of help," Bucky's chest buzzed while he spoke while the top of your head stayed tucked under his chin.

"What happened to us Buck?" Sometime after you mumbled your question into his chest, Bucky pulled away but still left his hands resting on your back.

"Loaded question there," he looked down at you with his usual comedic smile. Although, it faded quickly when he saw the serious expression written in your face.

"Sorry, kind of coping with humor at the moment," just as he went to his cheesy self, he was back to the awkward Bucky you knew all too well. "Do you remember the moments right before we all, ya know, dusted?"

"Like it was yesterday," you answered quietly. It broke Bucky's heart as you stared at your hands shyly.

Everyone watched in terror as Sam dusted into a grey flaky material. You ran up to Bucky hoping he wouldn't succumb the same future.

"Bucky, I need to tell you something."

"Hm?" He asked in shock

"I love you," you said trying not to cry, but soon his hand started turning to flakes like Sam

"Y/N," he muttered before his body fell to the ground turning to dust.

What felt like a few seconds later, you could see your hands turning dusty and all you saw was white.

Bucky’s hand cupped your face lightly, taking you out of your daydream state. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, like he could read every thought that was going through your brain.

"Y/N," he said in an almost whisper. His thumb now tracing back and forth lightly against your cheek.

"I love you too. I always have."

A warm smile spread to your face as he said the words you had hoped to hear all that time ago. All you wanted to do in that moment was take a photograph of Bucky’s grin as looked down at you.

“Can I kiss you now?” His tone was close to an excited high schooler. All you did was nod and there was little time before your lips met in a soft sweet kiss. Bucky’s arms pulled your closer by your waist as your hands snaked up towards his shoulders.

"I missed you Buck,” you muttered in between kisses.

Bucky stopped for a second to look you right in your eyes and whispered, "I missed you too sweetheart,” before kissing you once more.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #Fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes angst

[mlchaelwheeler]

Mike, presents, and the painting: analyzing the van scene

There has been so many analysis posts written about the van scene and Mike's feelings, but I just wanted to write my own interpretation of how we see Mike's feelings develop through the end of S3 and into S4, using the painting as the main proof. In this analysis, I'll be mainly talking about the van scene, but also a few other scenes in which Mike's feelings for Will are clearly illustrated.

In my opinion, the goodbye scene between Mike and El in 3x08 is the first scene where the audience can clearly see that something is off between the two of them (if they hadn't caught on to that fact already). Mike's been struggling all season with letting El be her own person, realizing she's more than just her superpowers, and finally being able to express his feelings for her. During their goodbye however, none of these plot lines get wrapped up. Instead, Mike tells El he "knows her powers will come back," doesn't kiss her back, and stands there with a confused look on his face afterwards. Those are all overt signs that mlvn is not where the narrative is headed in S4. That's all old news. Instead, let's look at the more subtle clues that hint towards Mike's real feelings.

Before Mike and El kiss, Mike tells her that her and the Byers should come back to Hawkins for Christmas. It's clear Mike is excited to open presents, and even mentions talking about presents makes him "sound like a 7 year old." (It's fair to mention here that 7 is a number associated with Will and byler, but I'm just going to leave that here and not analyze that). Mike clearly loves receiving presents! There's even a track from the OST that plays during this scene that mentions presents.

Why is the line about presents so important? At the time, it felt like a throwaway line-- a random bit of dialogue added to give Mike and El something to talk about before their awkward goodbye kiss. However, that line was actually perfect foreshadowing to the painting plot in S4.

S4 opens with El's letter (full of lies), in which she mentions that Will is painting a gift for a girl he likes. Now, it's clear that this is a gift Will has spent a lot of time and effort on, and it's for someone special to him. I'm sure Mike heard about this and was immediately saddened, since he's usually the recipient of Will's art-- just look at his binder full of drawings or the walls of his basement and bedroom!

So when Mike arrives at the airport and sees the painting, he lets himself hope. He wants that painting to be for him. He's figured out by now that he loves Will. He desperately wants for Will to love him back, but internalized homophobia's a bitch. Mike is constantly guessing as to what Will's feelings are, so when Will says the painting's "nothing," Mike crushes his hopes that it could be a gift for him.

It's important to note that Mike is fixated on the painting. It's also right after Mike gives El a present (the flowers), so perhaps he's thinking the painting is actually a present for him. Why else would Will bring it to the airport? But when Will assures him it's "nothing," Mike goes overboard with sticking to El, trying to ignore his disappointment the painting seemingly isn't for him.

Later on in the van, Mike is shocked to see Will still has the painting with him. I'm sure he assumed Will had already given it to whichever girl it was for, so when Will hands it to him, he has to check it's actually for him.

And the thing is, yes, Will spills his own feelings using El as a cover. But I think Mike understood. He desperately wanted to believe those were Will's feelings. That's what he's wanted for so long now. Will loves him! The painting-- a present for Mike-- was Will's way of telling Mike he loves him. Even after Will finishes talking about "El's" feelings for Mike, it's obvious (at least to me) that Mike knows Will's talking about himself.

After confirming these feelings are real ("Yeah?" "Yeah."), Mike looks back down at the painting. A depiction of the party, Mike with a heart on this shield. To Will, he's the heart. It's clear that painting is all Will. Mike knows El doesn't know anything about dnd. There's no way she could've commissioned it. I think Mike knows exactly who the painting is from, and what it means. Or at least he's desperately hoping he knows. And then he looks back up! At Will! Not out the window (perhaps thinking of El), or at the painting for a longer amount of time, but back at Will seconds later. Will isn't looking back at him, but the way Mike is looking at Will... that boy is in love. And for the moment, he believes it's requited.

For the rest of 4x08, Mike believes Will loves him. And that's why, during their reunion with El, we get shots like this:

Obviously, Mike is overjoyed to reunite with El. He cares about her so deeply, and even though he doesn't love her romantically (platonic with a capital P), that doesn't make him any less happy to have her back, knowing she's safe once again. However, the clear framing choice of Will's silhouette between mlvn, as well as Mike's reaction after he hugs El (they don't kiss, which is interesting) further prove the fact that Mike's romantic feelings are towards Will. He's still thinking about the painting. Will's feelings for him. The fact that his own feelings might actually be returned.

Mike goes into the monologue scene still believing that Will loves him. So as El's visibly dying on the table, and Will tells Mike again ("You're the heart") feelings he thought were Will's, Mike is confused. Maybe they really were El's feelings? Maybe Mike was too in his own head and misinterpreted everything? Maybe Will doesn't actually love him and never has?

You can see the confusion written clearly on his face. His eyebrows draw down, his mouth tightens, and he rethinks every interaction he had with Will earlier that day. If Will doesn't love him, then he was completely wrong. His feelings are unrequited. He's completely alone. El is dying in front of him, so he does what he can. He forces himself to say "that thing."

He lies his ass off, but what else is he going to do? Will doesn't love him but apparently El does. He cares for El so much. He obviously doesn't want her to die! So he bottles up his own feelings and tells her exactly what he thinks she wants to hear. He makes up lie after lie, but at that point, he's saying anything that might help. His face right before he says he loves her is heartbreaking. That is not the face of a boy professing his love to his girlfriend. That is the face of a boy forced to lie to save a life. Forced to push aside his own feelings after apparently misinterpreting everything. That is a face of despair.

Two days later, it's clear Mike's lies didn't help anyone. El is more distant than ever. Max is comatose. Will is ignoring him. No matter what he does, Mike can never seem to get it right. Yet he does know one thing: he loves Will. So even in his mind, even though he now believes Will doesn't actually love him, Mike keeps hoping. He resigns himself to the fact that he'll just keep being Will's best friend, because that's how he can stick by his side. It's clear he's still contemplating this on the drive back to Hawkins.

And it's even more clear that he loves Will in the scenes in Hopper's cabin. Mike and El have barely spoken two words to each other after his grand confession of love-- despite the fact they were sitting inches apart for 48 hours. Yet who does Mike gravitate towards, as he always does? Will. We get a beautiful parallel to S2, in which Mike would've moved heaven and hell to keep Will by his side.

If one thing's for certain in Mike's mind, it's that he loves Will. He's not losing him again. Despite finding out that the malicious presence that's been out for Will for years is now back, Mike is resolute. Vecna is not touching Will ever again, not if Mike has any say in the matter. They'll figure this out together-- as best friends, as a team, as something more. Because even if Mike believes that Will doesn't love him, Mike does love Will. He always has and always will. And he's not losing him ever again.

#okkk here it is! (only like 4 days after i promised it lol) #i understand mike. I KNOW THE TRUTH #no offense but if you disagree argue with a wall bc. i know mikes thoughts. i'm sure of it #byler #mike wheeler #byler analysis #sarah.txt

[cest-la-vieve]

A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 16)

Summary: Evelyn navigates the Court of Nightmares and accepts a date... though not with who you'd expect.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, cussing

Notes: friends, romans, countrymen... lend me your ears. this chapter has taken a long time and i more than appreciate your patience as i sort through life. i hope you enjoy and i'm hoping now that life has calmed down a bit i will be back on a more regular writing & posting schedule!

P.S. - in this chapter more than others, some dialogue is taken directly from ACOWAR. this is just my attempt to follow along with canon, no disrespect to my queen sjm.

Next Chapter: Chapter Seventeen

ACOPAP Masterlist

---

The Court of Nightmares was unlike any place I’d been before.

Thankful that I didn’t have to walk entirely through the crowd like the others, I found myself at Nesta’s side near the dais with the throne. I felt more than saw Mor reappear to my left moments later, though I was unsure what she had done in the meantime. From the little I had gleaned, her family resided here. Perhaps she had something to say to them before Rhysand’s address. 

The black ends of my dress skirted the floor as I walked, giving me something to focus on other than the sneers on the faces surrounding us. Never had I been in a room so full of hostility. I could tell by the lines on the faces of the fae that they must make these faces often and I found myself regretting asking Rhysand to let me accompany them.

Despite the anger permeating the room, I kept my chin high, letting my eyes trace the disturbing images carved into the mountain walls. I found myself instinctively searching for the comforting glow of the moon and cringing when I realized I couldn’t see it from here. Something about that felt even more stifling than the confines of the tight dress I was wearing. To know that the night sky was out there and I was detached from it… I fought the shiver that worked its way down my spine.

My fingers twitched with the urge to grab Nesta’s hand but I schooled my expression and balled my hand into a fist. I could do this.

I chanced a glance beside me, hoping that at least my sister’s presence would calm some of the nerves dancing through my tight chest.

To my surprise, a large winged figure separated me from the curl of braids decorating Nesta’s crown.

Azriel must have taken the spot between us, his Illyrian armor decorating his tanned skin and shadows drawn in tight as he stared straight ahead to where Rhysand and Feyre would sit.

I mentally smacked myself, of course, he would take Rhysand’s command to be my babysitter seriously.

The shock of seeing him standing next to me wore off as I tightened my features and remembered Mor’s parting words. Make him beg.

That, I could do.

Refocusing on Feyre and Rhys as they approached the throne, I bit back a smile as Rhys yielded it to Feyre and perched on the arm. The distaste that had flooded the air quickly turned to shock and disgust at the action. Evidently, the people of the Hewn City were not well-acquainted with their High Lady. 

Rhys’s voice barked out a single word that broke the spell, “Bow.”

I watched as the entire room fell to their knees, admiring the way Rhysand commanded so completely. Beside me, Azriel and Mor elegantly swept into bows, Mor barely hiding a gleeful smile. I did the same, dropping to one knee for my sister and her mate. I made sure to sweep my hand along my leg as I did so, however, parting one of the panels of fabric so the entire length of my leg was exposed conveniently in view of a certain Illyrian.

I saw the movement of his gaze out of the corner of my eye, the way it lingered and tracked the exposed skin. He didn’t even blink before bowing his head again.

My eyebrows scrunched subtly at his stoicism. I’d have to do more to get a rise out of the male who hadn’t let himself have a single emotion other than brooding in centuries.

Rhysand spoke to the room, admonishing them for the lack of two thrones, and the small grin returned to my face. Then he finished with, “Our loyal subjects” and I felt the sting of tears. Rhysand wanted two thrones because Feyre was his equal. This was their court. And I was proud to be part of it.

I felt something in the air and, though I wasn’t quite certain what it was, my instincts were going haywire with the thought it was a threat. The gleam in Feyre’s eye, however, told me it had to have been fae testing her power, something I knew she was more than capable of handling. Gasps rang out as a triumphant smirk crossed her face.

I almost wished it was tangible so I could make sense of what was going on, but this served as a stark reminder of how little I knew of this life, of being Fae.

Who knew how much time I would have before this war? Who knew how much time it would even take for me to understand these powers that I now possessed?

The flying was the easy part, physical pain and hard work were something I was not unfamiliar with. I could train my body, I could push myself past any limits I had to.

Learning to control my emotions and whatever that Cauldron had flooded my veins with… That was something I wasn’t sure I could handle.

I wanted to, though. I wanted to be a weapon they could use in this war, rather than a liability on the sidelines. Perhaps I wouldn’t even need to learn how to use my power if I could just train with Cassian every day and become proficient with a sword.

Or… The Illyrian camps Rhys had mentioned. Azriel had so adamantly refused to allow me to go there but… I wasn’t listening to him anymore. He had no right to prevent me from doing anything.

I made a mental note to ask either Rhysand or Cassian about potentially training there after we returned to the townhouse.

Amren and Nesta rising broke me out of my thoughts. They walked to the foot of the dais, asking Rhysand for leave, which he granted. He waved a hand as he commanded, "Go. Enjoy yourselves. Food and music. Now."

The music was nearly haunting, matching the dark energy of the city. It was a relief, however, to hear music at all. It somehow made the occupants of this hidden city a bit more relatable. To know that their lives were not consistently shrouded in darkness and melancholy, but that they might find joy in the same things we did above.

I frowned at the idea that Nesta would miss it as she left to fulfill her part of this trip. I knew how she loved dancing and, though I doubted she would let herself be swept away through the night, she could afford to hear a song or two.

Mor grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd and to a long table of food and drink. She picked up two glasses of wine, handing one to me before downing her own and offering me a wide grin.

I took a long drink, feeling the dizzying effects of the fae wine immediately. I wondered if I should seek water to offset them but that thought was gone as quickly as it came. One glass of wine wouldn’t hurt and, considering where I currently was, it might even help.

Mor popped one of the snacks in her mouth and turned toward me. “The only thing bearable about these visits is the food and wine they leave out.”

I snorted out a laugh. “I can’t imagine anything being worth the trip down here.”

She opened her mouth to answer but her eyes locked onto something behind me and she quickly closed her lips. I raised an eyebrow in question but she shot me a wink and mouthed the word “beg” before dancing out to the crowd.

I took another swig of my wine, letting the warmth course through my body as I refused to turn around and acknowledge the male behind me.

“Evelyn,” he said in greeting, no inflection to give away what he was feeling or thinking.

I drained the remnants of my glass before grabbing another and finally turning to face him. “Oh, Azriel. I didn’t see you there. Quite the spy you are.”

A flash of something crossed his face so fast I couldn’t quite read it. “Very funny, princess.”

My heart twisted in my chest at the nickname and the memories it summoned. Funny how one interaction could go from infuriating to endearing to heartbreaking all in a matter of days.

I turned back around, setting the full glass of wine back on the table and briskly walking into the crowd of dancing bodies. I ignored Azriel calling my name, focusing instead on making it to the far side of the room.

Nobody moved to speak to me, which was just fine, as all I wanted to do was sink into the shadows and stay there until it was time to leave. Thankfully, the entire room was framed by a long line of columns, big enough that I could slip behind one and sink to the floor. I sighed as I sat, stretching my legs out in front of me before crossing them at the ankles.

As my mind grew foggier, I cursed myself for setting back down that second cup of wine, wishing I could follow it further into oblivion. Of course, that also meant I’d be drunk and likely more depressed than I already was.

I huffed out a breath as I leaned my head back against the column, giggling slightly as the loose strands of my hair tickled my collarbones. I knew I’d have to attend the meeting with the others soon but I couldn’t find it in myself to get up.

I felt him a second before he appeared, almost like my body was more in tune with him than it was with me at this point. I groaned as he stepped out of the shadows.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?”

His face didn’t betray anything, again, as he offered a hand to me. “Time for the meeting.”

I ignored his hand, pushing myself off the floor and dusting off my dress. 

“Lead the way, shadowsinger.”

He did as I asked, pushing his way through the crowd until we reached a small hallway. He pushed open a door, where Rhys sat at the head of an intricate table. Feyre was opposite him, Mor and a male Fae, who must have been Keir, filling in other seats.

Azriel took a seat, leaving the only empty ones next to him or Keir. I grimaced, figuring I should choose the lesser of two evils.

With a heavy breath, I sat as gracefully as I could next to Azriel, averting my eyes from Mor’s father.

With a sneer, the male said, “I know why you’re here.”

I fought to keep the gag from my throat at the sound of his voice. Even though I had never met him, his very presence sent goosebumps up my arms and made me want to leave the room as quickly as I could. I couldn’t keep the distaste off my face at his lack of decorum and the way he surveyed all of us.

Keir went on, mentioning Hybern and Rhysand’s legions, with a nasty look shot at Azriel. It took all of my self-control not to launch myself across the table. Despite the hurt and hatred I felt toward him, I detested the way he seemed to reduce Azriel down to what was the smallest part of such an intelligent, complicated fae. Before I could move, he got to the point, “You mean to ask for my Darkbringers to join your army.”

Rhys, ever the statesman, simply replied, "Well at least you've spared me the effort of dancing around the subject.”

I picked up the glass of water that had at some point appeared in front of me to keep myself from smiling. Rhys and Keir continue to volley, a game of words that could be understood if you looked past the flowery language with the context of our dire situation. Until Mor cut in, "Last I checked you have been free to do as you wish for centuries. Longer."

I saw Azriel tense as Keir ignored Mor, saying that he wasn’t quite free enough to do all that he wanted. Rhys shut him down, putting him in his place, and reminding him who was truly in charge of both courts.

Keir smiled. Every muscle in my body tensed at the sight. It seemed so unnatural on a face like his, one riddled with lines of tension that must have come from whatever hatred filled his heart and mind. It was nothing like the smiles I had grown accustomed to from the other fae in Prythian.

Cassian’s smile of joy and laughter, despite whatever circumstance we found ourselves in. Rhysand’s smile of love that he shot in Feyre’s direction when he thought she wasn’t looking. Even Amren, who still scared me, had a smile of mischief when she toyed with the jewels she carried everywhere with her. Even the smiles I knew the most, ones I coveted above all else, the ones of my sisters. Those were much less frequent these days.

Azriel’s smiles though… I had practically memorized the intricacies of each one. I peered at him from the corner of my vision, wishing his handsome face would lighten with one such smile now. They filled the room, not exactly washing away the shadows but enhancing them, bringing a delicious contrast to his entire being. 

But when Keir smiled… it felt wrong. He glanced around with that look, “You must need my army rather desperately, Rhysand. Are the overgrown bats not up to snuff anymore?”

My lips parted in shock at his arrogance.

Azriel, seemingly unphased, answered, “Come train with them and you’ll learn for yourself.”

That was the shadowsinger of the Night Court. The spymaster that kept his enemies on their knees, afraid of even breathing the wrong way for fear of what he may do.

The game between Rhysand and Keir began again in earnest, Rhys using those powers of his to gouge lines in the glass table. I winced at the sound but continued to do my best to follow along with the word games.

Rhysand’s eyes had a strange light as he sat back and said, “Bring him in.”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing between my High Lord and the empty seat at the table. I hadn’t realized that we were missing someone in this conversation, particularly as I was just here so my babysitter could keep an eye on me.

A male figure walked in. One that I vaguely recognized…

I stiffened in realization. He had been there that day on the ice. He had been the one holding my sister by her hair.

Mor froze as well, as though she knew this male too, though how I wasn’t sure.

Beside me, Azriel’s hand moved to his dagger and my expression furrowed further. We had released this male that day on the ice, what brought him here now and why was Azriel seemingly preparing to gut him in front of all of us?

Feyre didn’t seem surprised, though I could have sworn I saw her eyebrows raise a bit as the red-haired male walked in and sat in the remaining chair.

Everyone’s eyes seemed trained on the Autumn Court fae, whose features reminded me of a fox, with eyes that were filled with cunning and a long, pointed nose decorating the center of his face.

Eris. His name was Eris.

I felt the whisper of Azriel’s shadows surrounding me, as though they were trying to hide me from him. I gently waved them off, not liking the way it felt like Azriel was trying to stake a claim or something.

Eris sat exactly across from me and I used the silence to focus on studying him. His eyes burned with a fire that was the complete opposite of the one we had seen in Nesta. It was warm, with a hint of danger, reminiscent of a campfire that had the potential to catch an entire forest on fire if left unattended. Exciting and untethered, the fatality depending on whoever wielded it.

As if he felt my staring, his eyes locked with mine. A smile graced his handsome face and he commented, "And who is this, Rhysand? You had mentioned building ties but I’d take a beautiful female in your court over that cranky bastard any day.”

I blushed, using a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear simply so I had something to do other than meet his piercing gaze.

I knew that I shouldn’t have felt flattered, especially with how Mor had reacted to his presence, but to feel so unabashedly admired felt… nice, compared to the way Azriel had been treating me like a dirty little secret. He had also hurt my sister, though, which was not something I would easily forgive or forget.

Azriel practically growled at him and I shot him an incredulous look.

The male’s smile grew wider, “And if she’s gotten such a rise out of your shadowsinger I simply must get to know her better. What is your name, little fox?”

I nearly laughed at the way his nickname fit so perfectly with the way I had evaluated him. “I’m Evelyn,” I said, “Feyre’s older sister.”

As if some invisible wall had been shattered, he looked at me with new intrigue in his eyes. Something about it caused my gut to twist uncomfortably, the flattery from earlier gone.

Rhys cut in, “What is it that you want, then, Keir?”

I shook my head, hoping the physical act would be enough to extinguish whatever was happening with Eris.

"I want out. I want to space. I want my people to be free of this mountain. You have been keeping secrets, High Lord. I always wondered – where all of you went when you weren't here. Hybern answered the question at last – thanks to that attack on… what is its name? Velaris. Yes. On Velaris. The City of Starlight. I want access to the city. For me, and my court,” Keir answered. 

Silence filled the room at his request.

“No,” Mor breathed.

The word meant more than I knew. I wasn't sure what the story was or why she hated this place so much, but even the thought of these people in Velaris made my skin crawl. It felt wrong in the same way Keir’s smile had felt wrong.

I waited for Rhys to agree with Mor and for Azriel to echo the sentiment as well. But the protests didn’t come. Instead, Rhysand simply stated, “There would be conditions.”

My mouth fell open in surprise, my heart cracking inexplicably in my chest. Rhysand was clearly playing a game but I couldn’t tell what it was. Mor also seemed to be on the outside, which was enough to tell me that Rhysand had truly overstepped.

Across the table, Eris chuckled softly. Azriel’s look at him was murderous, a rage lacing it that seemed to go beyond just this meeting. Eris tilted his head at the Illyrian, seemingly an invitation to speak up.

I studied him, trying to figure out his angle in all of this. Once again his eyes found mine but this time, he sent me a wink. My traitorous body blushed again, forcing me to focus my gaze on my lap.

Azriel stood abruptly, stopping any conversation and turning all eyes toward him.

With one hand on his dagger and the other resting on the table, he stared down Eris, a cold calculation playing in his gaze. He was weighing his options, though I don’t think it was for the consequences of his actions. More like he was debating in his head which of the many ways to torture someone he wanted to utilize. As a smirk slowly grew on his face, I became more convinced that he was actually going to do something that he couldn’t take back.

Rhysand cleared his throat. Azriel didn’t so much as look at him as he sat back down.

The whole time, Eris’s amusement didn’t fade. If anything, his smugness grew at seeing Azriel submit to Rhys.

“If Keir is receiving access to Velaris, I’d like to add something onto my end of the deal,” Eris spoke calmly.

Rhysand raised a brow, clearly annoyed. “What, Eris?”

“I’d like access to this lovely creature,” he said, running his eyes over me.

I shivered but I couldn’t tell if it was in excitement or disgust.

“Absolutely not,” Azriel answered.

“You can’t tell me you’re hoarding the Archeron sisters for yourself, Rhysand.”

Feyre looked at me with concern in her eyes but I felt Rhysand gently pushing for access to my mind. I focused my attention on him, letting him in.

Well? He asked me.

Well, what?

It’s your choice, Evelyn.

I wasn’t aware I was a bargaining chip, brother.

If I had known you were on the table, you would have been my leading bet.

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head a bit. How badly do we need him?

Badly enough that I’m offering our most precious possession to a depraved creature such as Keir.

I nodded in understanding before making eye contact with Eris.

“One evening. That’s your deal.”

“As you wish, little fox. Though I have a feeling you’ll be asking for many more after that,” he smirked.

With those words, my opinion of him was solidified. They were a perverse version of the words Azriel had uttered to me days ago after I had all but begged him to kiss me. When Eris said them… it was possessive. It was demeaning. And I never wanted to hear them from him again.

I didn’t bother with a reply, knowing I had fulfilled what Rhys needed from me.

From there, Rhysand agreed to Keir’s terms, details of the access to Velaris to be decided later.

Feyre asked Ouroboros mirror and Keir surprised me by biting out, “If you can take it.”

We all gave him a puzzled look and, exasperated, he elaborated, “To take the Ouroboros, to claim it, you must first look into it. And everyone who has attempted to do so has either gone mad or been broken beyond repair. Even a High Lord or two, if legend is true. So it is yours, if you dare to face it.” A fae came in and said something to him, causing him to rise from his seat. “Lord Thanatos is having… Difficulties with his daughter again. He requires my assistance. I will wish to speak with you – soon.” And with that, he left the room.

Eris sipped his wine in the silence that followed Keir’s departure. “You look well, Mor.”

I was on my feet before he finished, pointing a finger in his direction as I growled, “You don’t speak to her.”

Even if I was unsure what their history was, I could tell he made her uncomfortable, which was more than enough for me to defend my friend.

Before Eris could respond, Rhysand was by my side with a hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me back into my seat. “This arrangement, Eris, relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut.”

“You say that Rhysand, but it now also relies upon my evening with the fair Archeron,” he said while meeting my eyes. “I’ve done an excellent job staying quiet so far. Not even my father suspected when I left tonight.”

A rumble left the center of Azriel’s chest, loud enough to shake the table and send shadows scattering across the floor. I didn’t even bother looking at him. If I did, I wasn’t sure if I would end up attacking him or start crying.

“I see you’re still holding a grudge,” Eris said to Azriel. I cocked my head but didn’t ask my question out loud. Grudge for what?

Feyre asked, “How did this come about?”

“You didn’t think that I knew your shadowsinger would come sniffing around to see if I’d told my father about your… powers?” Eris snorted. “Especially after my brothers so mysteriously forgot about them, too. I knew it was a matter of time before one of you arrived to take care of my memory as well. Too bad for you, I learned a thing or two about daemati. Too bad for my brothers that I never bothered to teach them.”

I gaped at him. Yeah, definitely didn’t like this male. Sacrificing his brothers for his own gain? This “date” was shaping up to be one of the worst things I’d ever agreed to.

Mor arched one of her perfect brows, but I didn’t miss the way her fingers dug into her arms where they were crossed in front of her. “So what’s the asking price, Eris? Another little bride for you to torture?”

Eris said, with a glance in my direction, “I wasn’t aware it was within my power to ask for that, though I’d happily agree.”

“Not even over my dead body,” the spymaster’s voice rang out.

“That could easily be arranged.”

I felt my power flare at his words, rimming my vision in white as he threatened Azriel.

This time, I was tempted to let Azriel have his way with the prick. I hoped he’d pick the most painful way to torture him though.

Then Mor repeated her question and Eris offered a genuine answer, “I don’t know who fed you those lies to begin with, Morrigan. Likely the bastards you surround yourself with.”

“You never gave any evidence to contrary. Certainly not when you left me in those woods,” Mor said to him.

I looked at Feyre, doing my best to ask the question with my eyes. What the hell happened between the two of them?

She shook her head subtly in answer, letting me know Mor was the only person I’d get that story from.

“There were forces at work that you have never considered,” Eris snapped. “And I’m not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me.”

My eyes widened at his tone. Clearly, no one here had the full story. Maybe this “date” could be beneficial after all.

Feyre’s stern voice surprised me as she said, “You hunted me down like an animal. I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”

The reminder of that day sent my mind spiraling with images of Feyre being held by the very male before me. The male I was meant to spend time with.

I stood, dragging the attention to me, as I murmured, “I need another glass of wine.”

I moved to leave the room but a strong hand gripped my arm. I looked up and Azriel’s hard face filled my vision.

Right. Babysitting duty.

He seemed inclined to either leave with me or force me to stay.

“You know where to find me,” I whispered, knowing it was important for him to continue this meeting. I tried to convey with my eyes that I’d be where he found me before, behind the larger pillar, hiding from conversation and the world around me.

He nodded once before releasing my arm.

I snuck out of the room, gently closing the door behind me and letting out a breath.

That meeting was… a lot.

I moved through the crowd, avoiding the bodies of the unfamiliar fae that were twisting in time to the music. I accepted a wine glass from someone who offered, residing myself to the fact that all of this was better processed under the influence of something.

The walk to the large marble column was blissfully uneventful, allowing me to attempt to clear my mind.

I slumped down on the floor much less elegantly than I had the first time, cross-legged and likely slouching. I pulled my hair from the elaborate up-do Mor had styled it in, gently working out some of the jeweled pins before setting them on the floor beside me.

It all felt smothering - my hair piled high on my head, the tight bodice of the dress, and the heeled shoes I didn’t have much practice walking in.

A sigh of relief worked its way out of me as I removed the last pin and my hair came tumbling down around my shoulders. Much better.

I nursed my wine as I waited for Azriel to finish the meeting, letting thoughts of Eris, this war, and all of the tension of the Hewn City float away.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, listening to the distant music, sipping from a glass that seemed to be bottomless, and letting my body slowly relax, before I felt Azriel approach.

Looking up, I gave him a drunken smile, until I remembered him walking away from me. The smile quickly turned into a scowl as I averted my gaze to my lap instead.

I expected him to say something, to snap that it was time to go, and walk away without even giving me the chance to stand up. I did not expect to feel his body heat radiating in the space beside me.

I raised my head, stunned to find him crouching beside me. Maybe I was drunker than I thought.

My breath hitched as he reached a hand up, delicately twisting one strand of my hair.

“Don’t go with Eris,” he breathed.

It must have been the alcohol swimming in my veins that had me wanting to agree.

“What?” I whispered back.

“Don’t go with him, Evelyn,” he said more firmly. “We can find another way to get him to cooperate.”

“I-” the brush of his knuckles against my cheek distracted my thoughts as I fought to control them. “I have to.”

He shook his head, dark hair brushing across his forehead.

He swiped his thumb over my cheek and just like that the spell was broken.

I jumped to my feet, fighting back tears as I instantly sobered up. The feeling of his hands on my face… on my body… in my hair. That was enough.

I regained my composure the best I could and firmly replied, “No.”

He was still on the floor, crouching with one knee pressed against the mountain stone beneath us. He looked up at me through his lashes but didn’t say anything.

I took a shaky breath. “No. It is my duty to this court to see this through.”

“Please.”

I blinked.

In the silence that followed I realized that it was not, in fact, a figment of my imagination but that the male before me had actually said that aloud.

The notion alone was so ridiculous that I barked a laugh.

“You can’t be serious,” I told him, crossing my arms and quirking a brow.

“Deadly.”

My lips parted in shock at his… at his audacity. “You don’t get to ask that of me.”

“Please, Evelyn,” he repeated and I did my best to ignore the tug in my heart at the sincerity of his words. “Anyone but Eris.”

Any compassion vanished. Anyone but Eris? Anyone but Eris?

“So I’m allowed,” I hissed the word, “To see anyone but Eris?”

I’d avoided looking at his face, instead focusing on the rage that was slowly building inside of me. But now, I turned my glare on him, wishing it could tear him to shreds.

His face betrayed nothing, mask firmly in place, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry but you don’t get to allow me to do anything.” Another harsh laugh parted my lips.

At this, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Evel-” But I cut him off with a raised hand.

“I’m assuming your presence here means the meeting is over. I’m going to find the others so we can go home. And I will be meeting with Eris. I always keep my word. I’m done.” 

I turned on a heel, walking calmly over to where Feyre, Rhysand, Amren, Nesta, and Mor waited to depart.

I spared a single glance over my shoulder as I moved through the crowd and something cracked in my chest at seeing Azriel on his knees, hair falling in front of his downturned head, and a look of frustration on his face.

Well, Mor was right.

I had made him beg.

Just not for what I was hoping.

-

Taglist: @mis-lil-red @ambivertedcroissant @reareaikea @biblophilefox82 @in-some-fandoms @hollyismentallyillhelp @donttellmehowtowrite @issybee0611 @vera0124 @juulle987 @bankerfrog @pricklepearbloom @sevikas-whore @strawberryseasons @azzydaddy @amberash05 @supersoilderswhxre @judig92 @historygeekqueen @awritingtree

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acopap #a court of pain and pleasure #azriel x reader #azriel x ofc #azriel x evelyn

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #tony stark fluff #im so sorry im not on here oftennnnnnnnnnnn #dentla schools too busy and i dont wike it #thats not true i do like it its just busy and stressful and doesnt give me time to write #and smut takes me longer to write than fluff #so i can only write fluff rnnnnnn #anyway i miss you all #love you all #hope the universe treats you welllll

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

[slasherboyos]

Different World | Chapter Nine

Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)

Date posted: August 6, 2021

Warning: Cursing

“Different World” masterlist: Link

Fanfic Playlist: Link

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Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!

Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.

“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.

“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair. 

“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned. 

“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.

David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you. 

“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing. 

“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard. 

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else. 

Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.

Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable. 

“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,

“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles. 

“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve. 

“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed. 

“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns. 

“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.

“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this. 

“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest. 

“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.

“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”

“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with, 

“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much. 

And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.

You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.

“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.” 

Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,

“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.

“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.

“Really? I expected this from Paul—”

“This is bullying!”

“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly. 

“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.

You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.

Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.

Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.

You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.

“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.

“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!” 

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest. 

“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles. 

“Talkin’ shit about me.” 

“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause. 

“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder. 

“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.

“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko. 

“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”

“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said, 

“Try again!”

David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle. 

Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.

David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.

“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being. 

“Michael,” David called, egging him on. 

“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.

Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.

“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique. 

“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”

“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you. 

“What it takes,” Michael pressed.

“To be one of us, Michael.”

“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.

“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.

“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement. 

“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.

Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink. 

Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,

“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you. 

It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.

You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.

It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.

“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink. 

You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,

“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized. 

"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up. 

"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere. 

Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment. 

You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

➳ ➳ ➳

Taglist: @lililolli @iloveslasher @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @bazingadotbizoff @motionlessgirl12 @petrelsrose @takemetotheweirdness @collieflower215 @ch3rrydoll @nataliewalker93 @fuzzyblanketsblog @cranberrypills​ @espurrisfabulous  @dwight-y0u-sunflower-slut

If your tag is crossed out, I was unable to tag you.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasherboyos writes

[imaginesntingz]

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

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You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

#gaara #gaara imagine #naruto imagines #temari #gaara of the desert #gaara of the sand #naruto #comfort #imagine #love #cuddling #gaara x reader #gaara x y/n #gaara fanfiction #gaara x you #kazekage gaara #anime imagines #mental health #mental heath support #self care #healing journey #chronic depression #panic disorder #x female reader #x fem!reader

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 79 Review

i said i would and i will. i did like this issue! not as striking and attention grabbing as 78, but i think this issue was meant to be a foundation one, laying out the groundwork for the future. overall, pretty good. also there wasn't enough bitewing. as promised, overly extensive metaphors and me reading too much into things under the cut

i know i've talked about this cover before, but this particular thing is oddly important to me, so i'll talk about it again

this is me, once again screaming about how artists put nightwing in traditionally feminine poses and how every time i see it i just get whiplash. i mean, true, the main reason why is because nightwing is a so often sexualized character, and putting him in these poses just increases the objectification, which is a goal that dc producers have. but there are very few popular male characters that do this. the only one i can think of off the top of my head is deadpool, but that was so obviously a critique and a way to make fun of the media industry. when they draw dick like this, they’re being serious. they’re putting him in appealing poses meant to show him off, and that’s something that’s traditionally only been done to women.

it's a very direct and very loud breaking of traditional gender roles in media, especially for a character as high-profile and historic as dick grayson. colour also plays a factor in this. the entire background is pink. i was absolutely shocked when i first saw it, when the teaser came out, because i cannot think of any comic book covers of male comic heroes this high-profile where pink is even just prevalent in the cover, let alone the majority of the cover. the pink does look beautiful: it offsets and highlights the black and blue of dick's suit gorgeously, but does it with more finesse than orange or red. but the fact that the stylistic choice was made to accent and draw this cover with aesthetic and beauty in mind, completely ignoring traditional hard-set gender rules in art, was a conscious choice and one i wholeheartedly support.

just another example of the sexualization i was talking about. i remember seeing harley quinn in this exact pose in suicide squad.

so far, taylor's been pretty dead-set on bringing alfred to the forefront of importance in this series. he wants people to know how much he loves alfred's character, and how much the butler meant to dick growing up. he was dick's father too. but what i adore is how taylor managed to stress alfred's importance in a way that didn't insult or belittle bruce.

this is one of the best bruce and dick interactions i've seen, and it's done in one simple interaction. in this, bruce is tough and harsh. he knocked dick down hard, but then he reached a hand down and helped pull dick back up. let me analyze their dialogue for a minute

on your feet: this is bruce telling dick to get up. he's trained dick, he knows what the younger boy is capable of, he knows his limits, and he knows what dick can do. this is bruce telling dick i know you're strong enough to get up, so get up and prove me right

are you just going to knock me down again?: surface-level, it looks like dick's complaining. he doesn't like bruce's rough training, and he's tired of bruce knocking him down. but look at his face in this. he's smiling up at bruce, knowledgeable and a little hopeful. he knows that bruce is doing this to help dick better himself, he's completely on board with the rough training, because they both know the rewards are incredible. also, he's teasing. he's bantering with bruce. there's an ease in that joking statement, one that belies affection and intimacy. they've only known each other for a little bit, but they're already slipping into a close familial relationship.

it depends on how fast you learn: this is bruce bantering back. this is bruce not being a stoic, unfeeling asshole. instead, he's shown with the dry humor that a good batman writer knows is a staple of the character. he's teasing dick, telling him he'll basically whoop his ass if dick doesn't learn fast enough. it's incentive for dick to train harder, while also being lighthearted enough to tell dick that believes in dick and doesn't want him to push himself too hard.

gosh i love the titans. also it looks like wally's staring at dick's ass.

this was cute. a prod at dick's silly and playful sense of humor, while not dumbing him down for the sake of a laugh. instead, he's joking about food, which is stuff everyone jokes about. this is the kind of stuff that'll actually make me laugh, instead of just making me vaguely uncomfortable.

bludhaven's almost always portrayed as a cesspool of a city. and to be honest, it really is. but this panel gives the city a meaningful history, while also giving us a reason for why dick moved there.

it talks of a time when people still thought they could beat the monsters. that if they fought hard enough, they could win the fight. it was a tentative hope that you could always overcome hardship.

dick's little "i like that it's still standing" shows how he still believes that, despite what the rest of the world thinks. despite everything that he's been through, dick is still tentatively an optimist, and believes he can fight the monsters of the world and win. it's a beautiful testament to his character, and i'm like that they added his signature element of hope back in. it used to be what he symbolized as robin, and despite his growth and character arc from robin to nightwing, this is one aspect of robin that i'm glad nightwing still has.

remember when i said "things that make me vaguely uncomfortable??" yeahhhh,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Shooketh Dick: A Sequel

(the expressions in this series are just,,,,on point)

this was an incredibly sweet and kindhearted thing for dick to do, but i found it kind of,,,,,,,,desperate? maybe that's just me, but let me explain.

dick's suddenly a billionaire, and he has entirely too much money that he knows what to do with. it's also alfred's money, what the man left to him, so dick forever links it with alfred. in addition to that, he's back and bludhaven and looking at it with "fresh" eyes. (at least, from a different point of view since he got shot in the head. then mind controlled.) he's desperate to do something with the money and he's desperate to help the people around him that so obviously needs up, so he comes up with an on-the-fly solution that's a little impractical and a little crazy, but it still helps and still does some good.

to me, dick seems a little lost. he hasn't completely found his balance yet, and he's trying to do things that will. he tries charity, because that's what bruce did and it's what he knows, even though he admitted that he always thought bruce could have done more as bruce wayne than batman.

they have a family group chat guys yall were right.

also, do i think that dick would ever actually get his wallet stolen?? no way in hell, he’d notice someone getting ready to pickpocket him a mile away. but i suppose it’s important to the Plot. 

okay this is getting interesting. first blockbuster, now maroni (+ the weird heart stealer guy). i can officially say that i am intruiged

this particular artistic quirk is shown a lot in this issue, and from this art team in general, but i feel like this panel is one of the best examples of it. it was stunning enough to take up a full page, and it’s well deserved.

the way they show dick moving is absolutely brilliant. as a reader, i like seeing these smaller versions of dick getting clearer and in more detail as they come closer to the screen. not only do they show depth in the picture beyond what a simple 3 dimensional piece of art does, it also shows the passage of time.

in addition, it showcases dick’s skill. dick spots these mobsters running after a group of petty thieves. he then, and follow me here, leaps off the roof of one building feet first, springboards backwards off the side of the adjacent building with his feet, gracefully continues his backflip, rights himself, shoots a line with perfect timing: just in time to soften his landing but not slow him down, execute said landing on top of a moving bus, keep running on the moving bus without missing a beat, shoot his grapple, use the grapple to swing, use the swing to build up momentum, then use the momentum to deliver a powerful blow to the mobsters. and he did all that fast enough to catch up with the mobsters, even though he was a ROOFTOP OVER. 

d a m n  s o n

this panel, the very first in the issue, is also another example of that art style, but a little more distinctive. i love the way they showed dick’s different costumes through the ages, along with him simply growing up. it’s a little heartbreaking, but a lot uplifting to see how far he’s come. thank god he got rid of the red. now all we need is the fingerstripes, and we’ll be golden

discowing my beloved. also i can’t clearly see discowing’s hair but it definitely looks like it’s pulled back. it looks like he put it in a ponytail. guys. guys. dick had a ponytail omg. 

he’s having a Hero Moment

are you talking about the city, dick, or are you talking about you? the kgbeast, the court, the joker. dick fell to each one of them, no matter how hard he fought. he won in the end, eventually and with his family’s help. but i think he’s feeling a little low, a little defeated right now. it’s almost like he needs a win, he needs to feel victorious, he needs to feel like he helped someone (hence the food and the hotel room), just because he needs to remember what it feels like.

these lines were supposed to resonate with you, and goddamn they did.

i looked at it from two ways. first, it’s the girl asking, begging nightwing not to hurt them. bludhaven doesn’t know dick the way gotham does, they’re still a little frightened of him. this child was brave enough to step in front of all of the other hurt and homeless kids and ask, to a strange man in a mask, if he was going to hurt them like the other men had. it’s heartbreaking, but commendable, and an echo of the city itself that dick’s decided to protect. they’re bloody and broken and terrified, but still gritty and brave enough to stare what they fear in the eye and ask it not to hurt them.

second, it’s dick seeing the question reflected in himself. recently, he got shot in the head and lost all his memories. while i think that the way ric reacted was a perfectly valid and human response to the situation, i think dick still regrets how callously and rudely he treated his family. then, he was manipulated by the court of owls, then he was brainwashed with a magic crystal by the joker. dick does have a guilt complex. it’s not a big as bruce’s, but it’s there. and right now, with this girl begging her not to hurt them, dick is probably thinking about all the times he hurt people, in control of his own actions or not, bc he “didn’t have a heart.” 

little ambitious don’t you think, dick?

also just look at the sunset colours loOK at the they could not make this any more obvious oh my godddddddddddddddddddddddd

in conclusion, i need more of her

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing 79 #nightwing 79 spoilers #dc #dick grayson meta #nightwing meta #nightwing 79 meta #dc meta #river thinks too hard

[dracosaurusrex]

Bookworms (Part 2) | Draco x Reader

Summary: The feelings that Y/N and Draco have for one another continues to increase as their relationship begins to bloom.

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff; enemies-to-friends-to-lovers

TW: Slight bullying, but not too bad.

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for all the support @.@ Here’s another chapter! It’s might not be much, but I think I like it hehe. Love is in the small things, I suppose. There’s not much dialogue in the beginning, but that’s compensated towards the end :) I hope you enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated :D

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You wake up to the feeling of warmth. Warmth in your fingers, in your arms, and in your face. It covers the expanse of your body as your surroundings come into view. As your eyes and consciousness adjust to your environment, you immediately go red. Looking down, you see that your fingers are interlocked with someone else’s, the owner’s right arm is draped over your waist, and your legs are entangled with his. You were in someone’s embrace. Before you could identify who this person is, small breaths of air brush your forehead, alerting your attention upward. You gasp silently at the sight of Draco’s peaceful face while your heart speeds up to a rate that is comparable to that of a seeker attempting a 50 m dive for the snitch--it was very fast.

You don’t dare to move your fingers from his grasp. Rather, you begin to analyze all of his features. It is then that you notice the way his eyelids are shut peacefully, and how his lashes feather his cheeks. The scowl that usually graces his face is absent, relieving the tension that is often settled in between his eyebrows. His lips are opened slightly--his bottom one pouting more outward than its upper counterpart. His platinum locks flutter slightly over his eyes, making him look more angelic in contrast to his typical gittish appearance. Your focus travels down to where your fingers interlace into his. His hands are comparable to yours in size and in texture. While you had long fingers and soft hands, his was slightly bigger, longer, and much more rough in characteristic. And yet, they caress yours so well. You take the opportunity to completely intertwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze with hopes that he wouldn’t stir from his slumber. With full consciousness now, you press your ear against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. 

A couple minutes pass by, filled with the soothing sounds of his lingering beats. You begin to gently untangle yourself from his limbs, lifting each with care and placing them delicately on the bed. As soon as you slid off, you began to loosen the sheets from underneath him, trying your hardest to be as discrete as possible. Taking them with a firm grasp, you lift it over Draco’s body, stopping just below his shoulders. A smile appears as you stand and stare at his peaceful face. With much care, you sweep stray platinum strands away from his eyes. Your fingers gently stroke his porcelain skin. He was a beautiful boy.

Stepping away from the sight, you walk towards your belongings and rummage through them before pulling out a quill and paper. You then take a seat at his desk, settling yourself comfortably, while looking at the items left astray on the surface. Books and parchment littered the space. An ink bottle was left open, and a quill was perched on a stand. Lined up against the wall was a small collection of books. Ones that contrasted greatly from the vibrant cover of the memory police. Each of them were written on subjects that weren’t taught at school. You suspected that he probably studied them due to the demands of his parents. 

Tearing your attention away, you gently dip your quill in the inkwell, totally focusing in on your task at hand. On the piece of parchment before you, you lay down a pattern of dots, connecting them with lines to form a familiar constellation. It was Draco. Recalling a few facts you knew from the astronomy books you’ve read, you write one with much care followed by a small message. It causes your mind to drift to the boy behind you, knowing that he’s much more than the image he portrays to the world. A sense of fondness overcomes you and you smile at the thought of him. You begin to fold the paper as soon as you place the quill down. Its creases and folds form into a crane. Satisfied with your work, you reach for the Happy Prince, and tuck the crane within the middle of the pages. 

Sounds of shuffling interrupt your train of thought. When you look to your side, you see the boy stirring from his sleep, opening his eyes shortly. His eyelashes batter innocently before realizing that you were gone from his grasp. He jolts upward in response, looking for any signs of your presence. Once he sees you, the frantic look that was fixed on his expression dissipates.

“You could’ve woke me up.” He states. You throw him a soft smile.

“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Draco’s heart flutters before he recomposes himself. He shifts his body, so that he’s sitting at the edge of his bed.

“What are you up to now?” He asks with yawn.

“Something for you.” You hand the object to him. As he takes it, he begins to scan the cover with adoration.

“I suppose this is for you as well.” He picks up the book from his nightstand and passes it to you. As you grab it, you begin to trace its edges before flipping it to look at the back for the summary.

“Did you enjoy it?” You ask.

“Very much. I hate to admit it, but muggles are quite the storytellers.” His statement shocks you.

“Oh shove off, Y/N. Don’t give me that look.” He scowls at you. In response you raise your hands up in defense and his eyes soften.

“You have a good point. I’m compelled to read it now. Thank you.” You say simply. Within the silence, the faint sound of the bell erupts, indicating the time. 

“I should get going. I still have studying to do.” You announce as you stand up from the bed. As you gather your belongings, you turn back to look at him.

“Thank you for spending time with me again.” The sweet smile that you give elicits a matching one from Draco’s lips. He raises himself to lead you to the door. As you step into the hallway, you turn around to give him your farewell.

“Do you think we can do this again? Saturday’s at Avenoir and Sunday’s in the dorm?” He asks while he scratches the back of his neck. You nod happily.

“It’s settled then.” There was an undeniable gleam in your eyes. One that makes his heart flutter for the umpteenth time that day. After you depart from his room, the boy walks to his bed, picking up The Happy Prince. As he flips through the pages, the paper crane falls out. He gingerly picks it up and delicately unfolds it. What he finds inside creates an explosion of warmth in his chest. Depicted is his constellation, and below it, “The guardian of the star that never moves.” He moves his fingers to trace the lines that were etched into the page and smiles as his eyes scan over your message: “Hope you’re ready for another adventure :)” It’s so characteristic of you. He folds the crane back up and inserts it within the pockets of his book bag. 

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The week goes by as it usually does, with the exception of an eventful Wednesday night. While you normally study in your dorm alone, Draco studies in the common room surrounded by the company of his friends. To his dismay, however, his companions tend to engage in conversations that are irrelevant to the assignments given. On most days, he is able to tune the noise out and concentrate on his work, but on this particular day the mentioning of your name piques his attention.

The assignment given out for potions that day was particularly difficult, resulting in complaints being made by those around him. As they do so, he initially keeps his focus on the information given in his textbook.

“Snape is really out to get us now, huh? This assignment is a killer.” Pansy is the first to speak. Daphne agrees.

“Agreed. What’s the point of writing an essay on the properties of Moonstone when you can just read the book like a normal person?” She exclaims.

“I bet that Y/L/N is breezing through this, huh? Why is she even in Slytherin? She might as well be in Ravenclaw with all those books she buries herself in.” Theo took a turn to speak. Draco stops his writing at the sound of his statement, but keeps his head facing down as he tunes into the conversation.

“Tell me about it, the sorting hat must’ve been sick when she was sorted.” The group starts laughing. When Draco looks up, he sees that Blaise had also kept his head down, eyes staring hard at the parchment in front of him. He looks up at him and gives an exasperated expression. A tinge of annoyance kindles in the blonde’s heart, yet he makes no sound.

“Y/L/N should really know her place. Did you see her when I spoke to Draco this past Sunday? She really had the nerve to mock me. She ought to keep her nose stuck in those books if she knows what’s good for her.” Astoria finally spoke out. Astoria, who was two years younger than her sister, Daphne, had a massive crush on the boy. She ensured that everyone knew of it also--even Draco himself. Unlike Y/N, she was proud. Proud of her family name, proud of her looks, proud of her blood status. She would be the perfect fit for him within the eyes of his parents’ standards. However, she wasn’t anything like you. Furthermore, it angered him knowing that these people spoke so lowly of you. You were much more than anything and everything that they had to say. 

As the boy immersed himself in anger, he catches sight of you as you enter the common room from the dorms. His eyes linger on you as you swiftly make your way to the entrance of the dungeons. Without any hesitance, he collects his stuff and places it into his bag, preparing to follow you.

“Draco, where are you going?” Daphne asks.

“Somewhere else to write this bloody essay. You all are damn noisy.” He says with a cold tone embedded in voice. The group looks at him in shock. He’s normally very tolerant of the insults that are thrown amongst them. As he steps away from them, he looks back with vile-looking eyes.

“You idiots know nothing of Y/N. Leave her alone.” The ordeal attracts the attention of every student in the common room. They look at the boy with astonishment as he exits the Slytherin confines. It was the first time he defended anyone other than his family, and he had done so with just as much passion. He doesn’t care much about the shocked eyes, however. Instead, he’s more concerned about your whereabouts, envisioning the smile that gives him peace of mind. As he walks out, his mind remains occupied with anger. He mentally throws insults to the sorry excuse of a group, without giving much attention to where he was going. As a result, he bumps into something hard. It was you.

“Hey! Watch where you’re go- Draco! Are you on your way to the library too?” The genuine look in your eyes automatically relieves him of the bitterness that lingers in his mind.

“Yes, I am actually. I couldn’t concentrate in the common room.” He says truthfully. You nod your head in understanding.

“It can get rather loud in there. I don’t blame you.” His mind drifts back to the conversation his friends had just a few minutes ago. He then drifts to you. Beneath your quiet and focused demeanor was a vibrant and genuine personality. One that was so intelligent, witty, and resourceful, yet caring and empathic to a select few. He can’t help but to get angry for you.

You both enter the library and quickly find a seat. As you do so, you pull out your materials before exploring the sections for books on Moonstone. The boy sets down his belongings to follow you. When he finds you, you’re seen with an arm outstretched, struggling to reach a book from the top shelf. Draco gets behind you and reaches for the book with ease. He chuckles at your stunned face.

“You seem to have forgotten my height in comparison to yours.” You roll your eyes, trying to get the book from his grasp. 

“Give it here you git. I found it first.” You spew out as you jump to retrieve it. Instead he snickers at you, and raises it higher.

“Draco!” You whisper harshly before jumping again. This time you grip his shoulders and push off, successfully retrieving the book from his hand before landing. However, your feet don’t touch the ground quite properly, resulting in you stumbling over. With quick reflexes, Draco wraps his around the small of your back, and holds your body against his in attempts to steady you. The action makes you both freeze in shock. You felt his warmth before, but you were sleeping then. Now that you were fully awake and conscious, the feel of his body against yours becomes so real, and there’s a flush of red that covers both your faces. After realizing the amount of time that has passed, the boy loosens his grip on you, and you step back.

“Let’s go back?” You ask him nervously.

“Uh yea.” His response holds the same kind of energy as you turn to walk towards the table. You get through your work with racing hearts. It was the first time you two had sat together with a purpose other than reading. You would’ve expected that it’d be easier to concentrate on your work in comparison to reading when he was around. With the whole scene playing in your mind, however, that is proven to be less likely. Nevertheless, you make an attempt to progress, flipping through pages and taking notes. Your efforts in focusing are fruitful as you continue to wrap your mind around the subject at hand. However, it is only when you feel someone’s gaze that you stop. 

You catch the conflicted look on Draco’s face, making you stop yourself from writing.

“Are you alright?” The question catches him off guard, and his face contorts when he thinks of the conversation yet again.

“Draco, is there something bothering you?” You ask again with a little more concern. He lets out a sigh.

“Y/N, in a hypothetical scenario, how would you deal with people talking behind your back?” You sit there without reacting for a moment, recollecting an appropriate response. 

“It hurts to find out, but I guess reading or being in my own world helps to tune out the irrelevant stress.” It’s a truthful response, that much Draco knows. It’s you after all.

“Have you ever wanted revenge?” The boy props his head on the palm of his hand, his elbow on the surface of the table. He looks at you with pure curiosity.

“It’s pointless, don’t you think? To stoop on the level of those who already showed they’re beneath you? Regardless of what they said, if I didn’t do anything wrong, the only problem lies with them. Not me. I would appreciate it, though, if someone told me if I ever did something wrong or offensive. Besides that, revenge is a waste of energy. To be frank, it’s more satisfying to see the karma go back to them. Sorry for sounding harsh.��� He shakes his head in objection to your apology.

“But why?” He asks as he begins to question himself. 

“It’s a waste of energy, it gets in the way of my business, and I don’t need anyone to throw me off.” The way you respond conveys a fire in your eyes. No one can stop you from achieving the things you want, and your awareness of that excites him. At the same time, however, his knowledge of your independence and sense of responsibility enforces the feeling of worry within him.

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, Draco?” The boy sits up and shuffles slightly in his seat. The words that he wants to say next are not things others would typically hear him say.

“Slytherin’s code.” He says simply. When you don’t understand what he was referring to, you quirk a brow upward.

“Come again?” He sighs. You can see him fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’ve seen me at my worst and took care of me. I’ll look after you too..if you let me that is.” You look at him stunned. It wasn’t like him to express his feelings so openly. As a few minutes pass, he begins to grow weary of your lack of response. Before you could say anything, he beats you to it.

“I understand if you don’t want it. I-” Your eyes widen.

“No! I do!” You raised your voice mindlessly. After remembering where you were, you repeat yourself slowly with a softer tone.

“I do, truly. I enjoy your presence, Draco. I treasure you.” Your genuine words come out stumbling, and the flush that you tried to suppress finds you again. You look down at your lap, starting to play with the edges of your skirt. Silence fills the air for a moment until you cautiously look up at him. A satisfied smile graces his lips and his eyes are filled with something you can’t exactly comprehend. It makes your heart race, nevertheless.

“D-don’t look at me like that.” You glance back down before looking up again. He still has the same expression on his face. You push his shoulder slightly.

“Stop.” You say again as you try to suppress your smile. You fail miserably. Draco on the other hand is filled with joy and relief at the sound of your words. His focus is fixated on you with much adoration. There were plenty of things people could say about you, yet your response has always been so eloquent, elegant, graceful, and wise. You were resilient. Today, your hair was up in a ponytail, but in Draco’s eyes, your beauty surpassed that of physical appearance--one that Astoria could never top. You were amazing, you made him better, and he was aware of all of that.

“I for you and you for me?” He asks earnestly. The sincerity in his voice prompts you to come to terms with the seriousness of the matter. As you meet his gaze, you see that he has a pinky extended upward and outward over the table.

“Blaise told me it’s a muggle thing to make promises with pinkies. I think it’s stupid, but in this case I suppose it’s...fitting.” You chuckled as the hint of his familiar arrogant tone emerges when he tries to defend himself. You wrapped your pinky delicately around his, and pressed the pad of his thumb with yours to seal it.

“I for you and you for me.” You say softly, yet so contently. Neither of you break from the position. Instead, you simply resume your work--you write and cross reference with your right hand, while Draco reads, using his left to flip pages from his textbook. You’d glance at the view occasionally, heart skipping beats at the sight of his finger wrapped around yours. After working for a while, you take a break and stare at his focused expression. If your past self saw you, she’d be raging, but now his presence represented new beginnings. For once, you didn’t feel alone within the school grounds. For once, there was someone who was willing to care for you as much as you for him. For once, you felt safe right where you were--pinkies tangled together and all. Draco being there encompassed all those things, and you couldn’t be more content.

You tightened your grip around his finger. Without looking up at you, he does the same.

A/N: I want to thank you again if you make it this far! Let me know what you think :D Other than that, I hope you have a good day!

A few tags! C:

@fadesbrina @redheaded-hobbit @ccabian @rottenhexrt

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH133

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 133: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XXIII)

Use Countercurrent Sand to reset the cooldown of the S/L Data skill card.

Save and drink the Devil’s blood.

Detonate all miniature bombs.

There was a loud roar as a violent explosion blew the tower deep in the church into ruins.

At the moment the file was loaded, the demon "Depravity" vanished and the resurrected Qi Leren returned to the state of when he had archived. Now he had no longer drunk the blood of the Devil and was still a human being!

His fragile human body appeared in the center of the explosion and was immediately thrown out by the billow of air, fell heavily on the ground, and even rolled several times before stopping.

There were some surface burns, multiple fractures, and countless bruises and contusions, but these injuries couldn't be judged as fatal injuries. There was no second reading of S/L skill and there is still dust and smoke in front of him. Qi Leren coughed in a heartbreaking way, and the blood accumulated in his chest gushed out from his mouth, filling his mouth with the taste of iron.

It hurt so much, it hurt so much, even breathing had become a kind of torture, he felt truly terrible.

At present, his vision was blurred red with hot blood. Qi Lereen used his single intact right hand to hold the dagger, bringing it toward his chest.

This body had lost its combat effectiveness, so he had to load again.

Before the knife's tip could touch his chest it was stopped by an incredible force, and Qi Leren suddenly shivered and looked into the smoking chaos in disbelief.

In the smoke after the explosion, a figure was coming down from the ruined throne.

The dust and smoke gradually dispersed, and the safe and sound devil came to him with elegant steps. He said approvingly: "Perfect acting skills, precise psychological grasp, unexpected attacks, in order to have me lower my guard you even drank the cup of blood... The only regret is that everything you carefully prepared still can't smooth out the distance in strength."

Su He stopped in front of Qi Leren and looked down at him gently and pityingly.

As time went by, Qi Leren’s hand holding the dagger could not move, and the S/L skill’s countdown was running out.

Qi Leren stared at him, but his trembling hand was too late to send the dagger into his heart. The Devil King looked at him with a smile and watched him step into the abyss of despair.

Five seconds, four seconds, three seconds, two seconds, one second... The countdown for the skill’s cooling was 0:59:59

"It seems that time’s up." Seeing the light of hope in Qi Leren's eyes dim, Su He leaned down and gently took the dagger from his hand.

Qi Leren looked at him coldly and he realized that he was about to die. Although Su He's expression was still gentle, his repeated attempts to thwart him had angered him, and the Devil of Fraud refused to accept the worm’s deception.

"Since the save hasn't been loaded it means that your current injuries aren’t fatal, but if just little more is done, you will bid farewell to this world, Leren." Su He played with Qi Leren's dagger and looked at him with a cold smile. "I’m very curious. When you really face the test of death, what will your choice be?"

The sharp point cut his throat and the blood flowed out. This degree of pain was not worth mentioning compared with the current pain all over his body, but Qi Leren knew that this injury would be fatal. 

Foaming blood would quickly block the respiratory tract, and it would become more and more difficult for him to breathe. If he was not treated, he would die of suffocation or excessive blood loss in a few minutes.

Su He stood up and put another goblet full of blood a few meters away: "Now, you can choose."

Breathing was difficult. No matter how hard he tried to inhale, it was more and more difficult to get enough oxygen into the trachea blocked by blood foam. Blood was constantly lost, oxygen was constantly decreasing, and his consciousness was becoming blurred.

Death was coming, and Qi Leren almost saw the grim reaper hovering over his head. It held the scythe and raised it high…

He didn't want to die, he didn't want to…

No, he wouldn't die. He had the Easter Egg!

But if he easily gave up struggling and accepted death, would Su He believe it? What would he do if he saw through his fear?

Must... Do it again... Again…

The desire for survival once again surfaced in Qi Leren’s eyes and his vision blurred. He tilted his head and looked at the cup of bright red blood a few meters away. His bloody lips moved slightly, longing…

The Devil King watched with great interest as the dying man ignited the last strength with his will. He rolled over and dragged his body forward with his single intact right hand. He lost more blood. His cut throat and injuries dragged out a shocking trail of blood on the ground, which showed how strong his will to survive was at the moment.

It was only a few meters away, but he’d exhausted all his strength.

By the time he reached his destination, the weak human was already dying. He used the last of his strength to hold the goblet, but his trembling hand kept shaking the scarlet blood in the cup…

He cried, and his broken trachea made his cry like a nightingale's whine, so despairing and pitiful.

The Devil liked this sound, watching a strong soul lose its bottom line and become corrupted and dirty. He was struggling to resist, yet he still succumbed to his own desires.

It really was amusing.

With a clear and crisp sound, the goblet fell heavily at the feet of the Devil King, spilling blood all over the floor.

The Devil King accidentally looked at the dying human being and saw his unyielding eyes. He was speechless as blood seeped out along his throat. He tried to pull up the corners of his mouth, showing him a mocking smile.

-Go away.

He growled silently.

In the blood on the ground, the handsome Devil smiled. "I didn't expect you to really do this for him. Humans are obviously so weak, but they’re always unexpected. This is probably what makes them so interesting."

Qi Leren struggled to roll over and lie on his back on the ruined floor.

His cut trachea was bleeding continuously, and the dying Qi Leren looked at Su He in the distance as Su He looked at him in return. After a moment, he came towards him but stopped in the middle.

"What is it?" Su He said, turning his head.

Within the shadow in the corner, a vague unfamiliar figure appeared and bowed slightly to Su He: "I’ve come to convey my King's instructions, the 'goldfish bowl' has raised an alarm. It’s very likely that it will escape again. Please go back and preside over the overall situation."

"It seems that my holiday is coming to an end." Su He said faintly, "Tell Power for me, I will force myself to leave this task and go back now. By the way, I’m bringing a big gift to her."

The shadow bowed again. The special connection between Devil King and Devil King could not last long in the Holy Nun’s field, and it quickly disappeared silently back into the shadows.

In the cold air, Su He’s deep voice came, mixed with mocking emotion: "...That woman."

Qi Leren could hardly see anything. The cloak of death had covered his eyes, the air was growing colder and colder, the chill slowly rose from the ground, and he was dying.

He heard Su He’s footsteps stop beside him, and then the rustle of fabric. He seemed to squat down and gently parted the hair on his forehead.

"I originally wanted to play with you for a while longer, but unfortunately the game has ended early. Your best friend beat Isabel and is on his way, but calculating the time, he probably won't see you one last time. It’s a pity that I can't see his expression when he gets here," Su He’s gentle voice rang in Qi Leren’s ears as he lay dying.

"For your courage and perseverance, I’ll allow you to rest here." A kiss as light as nothing fell on Qi Leren’s forehead. A farewell kiss.

"Depravity’s appearance was beautiful, but unfortunately, you did not become it after all."

The footsteps of Su He's leisurely departure were getting farther and farther away, disappearing from Qi Leren’s ears.

Qi Leren was dying.

Glad and anxious.

Although his brain had almost stopped running, he still understood the dialogue between Su He and the unknown person. He would hurry to leave here immediately, which meant Ning Zhou was safe.

Great... Great... Really, great.

He could be resurrected in seven days, as long as the news was conveyed to Ning Zhou…

Qi Leren, who had difficulty moving a finger, squeezed out the last strength from his body and wrote a 7 with his bloody finger trembling. He also wanted to write another word, "days", but for all his effort he couldn't make his finger move again.

Qi Le people closed his eyes in exhaustion, his breathing halted, and his consciousness sank into chaos because of lack of oxygen. Even the pain became slow and psychedelic, as if his soul had begun to gradually break away from this scarred body.

He absently thought, there was only the one number, could Ning Zhou understand what he meant?

After 7 days, he could be resurrected in 7 days, just wait for 7 days…

Memories began to flash in his mind like fragments, like film pulled out from a camera, and then suddenly it fixed on a certain one. At that time, he was absent-minded because he was thinking about the task clues, and Su He was explaining the meaning of numbers to Dr. Lu: "Numbers are very interesting in the Nightmare World. Many numbers have special meanings. For example, 4 stands for luck and 7 stands for..."

"I love you."

He’d made an unforgivable mistake.

Qi Leren desperately struggled to keep breathing, but the blood foam stuck in his throat prevented him from inhaling air. He opened his eyes wide and tried to erase the numbers written in blood.

He tried his best to squeeze out the last bit of strength from his nerves, bone marrow, and every organ that was about to stop working, to erase this number, but there was nothing he could do.

He couldn't move, he couldn't move at all.

Tears of remorse flowed out of the corner of his eye and he cried. He hadn’t in the face of the Devil's performance, nor in the face of fear of dying, but now it was really out of control.

This desperate fear even exceeded his fear of death itself and his consciousness that is about to dissipate was shouting, struggling, and repenting. He couldn't imagine, couldn’t bear to think of Ning Zhou seeing this message - this simple number. It could be the last straw to destroy Ning Zhou.

The world slowly sank into the dark abyss of death.

He remembered the difference from a few hours ago. At that time, it was so dark that he had only dared to ask Ning Zhou if he wanted to go with him. His timid heart made him even afraid to wait for Ning Zhou's answer and he’d said goodbye in a hurry. He’d always thought they would meet again, so he said: I'll be back soon, you have to wait for me! You must wait for me!

How naive and how stupidly self-confident in front of reality, fragile and ridiculous, vulnerable.

At the last moment before the collapse of his consciousness, Qi Leren saw the Garden of the Holy Tomb.

At that time, he’d woken up from the stump covered with fallen flowers and followed Dr. Lu to the place where Su He was. As he walked, he’d turned his head and saw Ning Zhou.

He’d stood by the broken tree and looked at him from a distance.

So restrained, so distant, but so gentle, there were too many emotions floating in his blue eyes, just like the sky and the sea that contained everything.

He’d suddenly wanted to ask Ning Zhou, how many times had he looked at him like this? And how many times had he missed returning it?

Ning Zhou was always so lonely and silent. All his pains were buried deep in his own heart, without words.

If he hadn't looked back, he would have never seen such tenderness.

He would never have known how deep this repressed love was.

Just a little bit like infinity.

　　&&&

Through the broken stone columns and countless broken statues, Ning Zhou walked forward without looking away and finally came to the front of the cathedral.

The first half of the church had been seriously damaged, with solemn and historical writing under the starry sky.

Ning Zhou briskly walked to the depths of the hall, looking at the two huge stone doors.

The earth was still shaking and destruction had played the final movement.

Ning Zhou took a deep breath, and his abdominal wound was burning and generally painful. He drew a cross on his chest and then pushed back the stone door.

The huge Maria and the stabbed dragon would have occupied most people's field of vision, but Ning Zhou's line of sight chased the familiar figure lying on the ground amidst a shocking pool of blood.

His heartbeat stops at this moment, and whether heaven or hell, it didn’t exist at this moment.

He didn't know how he came up to him and knelt down there.

Open brown eyes looked ahead emptily, and there were wet tears in the corner of his eyes. His blood-stained fingers were stopped on a reddish-brown number.

At the moment before he died, he was saying—

I love you.

Deep in the dark hall, there came the cry of desperation and collapse. Witnessed by the remains of Holy Nun and the Devil, a devout believer finally admitted his love that was not allowed by his God.

But it was too late. At the moment when he’d received his love, he’d lost him forever.

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: So, there is no love that can't be achieved through a grand death. If there is, then die again.

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

[emerald-amidst-gold]

WIP Wednesday

Ohhhh, buddy! Wednesday again! Fantastic~! >:D To be fair, I almost didn’t have anything to share this week because of work and life making me go MEH, but inspiration struck this morning and into this evening to allow me to write a potential direction for Fane and Solas’ first kiss scene! >:3 (I know, I know! I said I couldn’t do it because of other stuff, but the dialogue hit me so I just blurbed to save it!)

Thank you for the tag @noire-pandora! <3

Remember how I said Fane and Solas bicker? Well, having some serious bickering:

“Blind devotion? That’s what you think this is?”, Fane growled, low and trembling as he lifted his arms to cross them. 

Solas’ eyes narrowed a bit on him. “You rush into an enemy’s line of fire constantly merely to stave off an oncoming blow that is intended for me. You care nothing for yourself in those moments. It is as if you do not care whether you live or die.”, he spat once again, lilt trembling as true emotions began to spill forth. “You care more for my continued survival than your own! What is that, if not blind devotion towards someone who had killed you, destroyed your identity, rent it to ash?!”

Fane flared his nostrils, heat radiating through his body. “What? That’s the justification? I’m supposed to let you get hacked with a sword or axe?! Burnt with fire or shocked with electricity?!”, he exclaimed, voice rising and rising and rising. “Am I supposed to let you die right in front of me?!”

“You must worry for your own safety! Not mine!”

“And lose you as quickly as I gained you back?!”, Fane retorted angrily, gripping his arms tightly, harshly, but not even caring how his scars sang like the stone sang with magic and his yells. This was ridiculous! This man was ridiculous, so why did he care about drilling through his thick skull and making him realize what was glaring at him so fiercely?!

“You have gained nothing but agony from my presence, ma--Fane.”, Solas said, voice dropping and immediately correcting himself of a habit as he began to turn away from him, shoulders rigid, fists clenching and unclenching. 

“Oh, really?”, Fane drawled with a glare and snarl, a surge in his body and mind making him reach out with an arm to grab a hold of one of Solas’, halting his retreat. He ignored the way the mage froze up and tugged a bit to try and draw the sky back to him. “Look at me, Solas. Look at me and tell me, honestly; do you truly believe I could hate you as you think I should?”

“...It would be better if you did.”, Solas muttered, head turned away from him, body stiff, but not seeking to tear from Fane’s grasp before he uttered more softly, more brokenly. “..It would have been kinder had you not remembered me.”

Fane blinked, his anger fizzling out at those words. He kept his grip on the mage’s arm, gingerly tugging rather than insistent, but Solas only kept his head down, his eyes averted. That made Fane’s heart nearly break. Why wouldn’t the sky look at him? Were they truly back to square one? Would they go back to seeming in pain every time their gazes caught up to each other? No, no, he didn’t want that! He didn’t want that!

He didn’t want to forget again!

“I would have been kinder if I had remembered sooner.”, Fane whispered, deep and devoid of any ire this time. He tugged at Solas’ arm again and this time, the elven man allowed it, but only an inch, still unseeing and head hung. “The way your eyes spark with lavender when you offer up a faint smile. The way your voice jumps a bit when you know you’ve been caught in a battle of words.” Each memory golden, every word housing blue as they fell. “The way you speak, even and calm, guiding with patience, but not afraid to rise when passion invades.”

Solas lifted his head a bit at each of his statements, blue-grey finally coming into view, but the expanse was deep in hue, full of guilt and sorrow in this place they both knew, both hated and loved in equal measure. Fane offered a tiny smile at the reappearance of the sky, tugging Solas closer and closer and the elf’s body went and went and so he continued to recount, to remember with words.

“The way you used to sit beside me and talk and talk and talk. I think most of my knowledge of spirits and their functions is because of you.”, Fane said with an airy chuckle, watching closely as Solas’ eyes widened a fraction and his body slowly relaxed, turning to face him more and more. “You always had something to tell me, and each word I cherished, I remembered because it was all I could do. I couldn’t speak like you could. I couldn’t express myself like you could. I could only watch, stare, observe and accept what you had to offer. I had no voice, and I’m not even sure if I do now.” He smiled a bit sadly at that, turning his own gaze away for a moment with a sigh. Should he say it? Should he...remember?

“It was not all you could do..”, Solas murmured, tenderly, gently and his voice matched the hand that came up to cup his cheek, gingerly, unsure, but ultimately there. “...ma’isenatha.” The word a balm, a salve, and one Fane had not realized he needed to hear to patch this particular wound in his heart, his soul. “You could not see what I saw in those moments. Your eyes glittered with so much understanding, so much more than you realize. A two toned voice, one you still harbor now and will forever. And it was the loss of that voice that...”, he trailed off, stormy orbs falling shut with a quiet, shaky sigh before finding the strength to continue. “...ripped the heart from my chest.” 

Fane let out a shaky sigh. “You are..”, he growled out before tugging against Solas furiously to pull the man close, ignoring the look of surprise and a grunt as he embraced the one he could never forget even if he tried. “...a fool.” He let out another somber growl, bending down a bit to nuzzle into Solas’ shoulder, letting out a shakier growl from the familiarity it housed in warmth amid ice. “...But so am I.”

***

Don’t try those mediocre lines of ‘It would be kinder..’, Solas. They don’t work on Fane. *sighs* Idiots, but I love them. :3

Tagging (with no pressure, but all the flowers and cookies in the world!) @dungeons-and-dragon-age @little-lightning-lavellan @oxygenforthewicked @mywitchcultblr @varric-tethras-editor @the-dreadful-canine @whataboutbugs @dreadfutures @shift-shaping @drag-on-age and anyone else who’d like to share their creative pursuits! <3 

#wip wednesday #my writing #solavellan #oc: fane lavellan #solas #dragon age #*shakes head at these two* they say a million words where THREE will suffice #this is what happens when you have two very alike people desperately in love with each other #guess we're back on the angst train huh? #CHOO CHOO! >:3 #solavellan hell

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 5: The Band of Seven, Resurrected

WELCOME TO EPISODE 5! So far, episode 6 is up on my Patreon already, and episode 7 is in progress. Support me on Patreon to see stuff first!

IMPORTANT: I am starting to integrate the art into the story a little differently! Instead of just visualizing a moment in the scene, the image will replace the lines it's depicting. It'll work more like a hybrid graphic novel, that way it'll flow better. (So don't skip over the art, read it like you would a western comic!)

Reminder: [Dialogue like this is English!]

EPISODE 5, LESSGO! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

It was a bit of a long flight between the bone-eater’s well and the spot where Luna last left her sister and her friends.

They were still headed northeast, still trying to find Naraku. But Luna’s supply of ammunition only lasted so long, and she decided she probably needed more medical supplies if they were all gonna make it past this war with Naraku. So she’d gone back to the modern era for a few days, and called Alice to get her connections with other Hunters in Japan—so Luna could make more Sacred Salt rounds without having to explain to international customs why she was getting a bunch of empty shotgun shells, non-native herbs, and a few other assorted (weird) things she needed.

So she’d gone home for a few days. Thankfully, she didn’t have to walk; Airisu (who still objected to Luna calling her ‘Alice’, but agreed to the simple nickname ‘Ai’) in full demon form could fly pretty fast, but she ran out of steam after about an hour. It took them a full day (including rest time) to get back to the village, and the same on the way back.

But before they joined back up with their friends, Luna had a stop to make.

It ain’t hard to miss, she thought snarkily, he’s like a damn homing beacon.

Finally, among all the green of the forests, she spotted a speck of white. Easy. “There they are!”

Ai set them down just behind the little group of travelers—Rin, the little imp Jaken, the big horse-dragon (Ah-Un, Luna believed?), and heading the line was, of course, Lord Fussy Britches himself. Rin spotted them before they touched down, and greeted delightfully:

“Miss Luna!”

The Hunter’s arrival brought the others to a halt, and for some reason, Luna found a very smug satisfaction in the incredibly irritated, over-the-shoulder side eye she got from Sesshomaru. But she paid him no mind; she was here for Rin.

Luna held out her hand, unfolding her fingers to reveal three beautiful pearls, strung on a little leather cord. Each of them glinted with an odd pink sheen and were warm to the touch; anyone with any sort of spiritual senses might’ve picked up on the soft energy radiating from them.

Luna tied the cord tightly at the ends and moved to slip it over the little girl’s head.

“As if she would ever need such a ridiculous thing!”

Luna swore one of these days, she was gonna drop kick that little frog. “Look, dude—”

“It’s Jaken, insolent human!”

“—I’m just looking out for her. No need to burst a blood vessel.”

“What is she to you?”

Luna was actually shocked to be addressed by Sesshomaru himself. He was still giving her the side eye, but there was less irritation and more of… something Luna couldn’t place. Maybe she was flirting with death, but she couldn’t resist.

She stood tall, chin high, and responded: “What is she to you?”

There was the anger: contained, but frigid and harsh as the Arctic behind those amber eyes. Sesshomaru did not answer her, but Jaken sure did.

“How dare you, human! Your nerve is surpassed only by your stupidity to speak to Lord Sesshomaru that way! Surely you wish for death!”

Only sometimes. “Can it, Kermit!” She snapped at him, “I ask because he’s always leaving her alone, with nothing but you to protect her! You, who are half her size and don’t have much in the way of defense!” She moved her challenging gaze to Sesshomaru again, steadfast. “So I ask again, what is she to you, if you leave her with barely any protection so often? Because to me, she’s a friend and I care about her, so I brought her these as a last resort option, in case you’re not around and she needs help.”

There it was, that unreadable expression again. Sesshomaru was definitely incomparable at hiding his true emotions—something Luna could absolutely not stand. Tense silence hung in the air for a moment, before Luna shrugged, holding her hands up.

“Hey, think of it this way,” She said, trying a sly little smile, “You’re a busy guy. It’s one less thing you have to worry about. And if she never needs them, at least it’s a pretty necklace.”

Man, this guy was good at keeping quiet. But now, the icy glare was gone. Luna swore she could see just the tiniest arc of a silver eyebrow before the demon turned back around on the path they’d all been heading.

“Jaken, let’s go.”

Flabbergasted, Jaken tripped over himself trying to follow. “Y-yes milord!”

Grinning, Luna got back down to Rin’s level. “You take care, okay kid?”

“I will! And thank you so much for these— I don’t think I’ll need them because Lord Sesshomaru always comes to save me, but I’ll wear them anyway!”

“That’s all I ask,” This little angel was definitely gonna need it at some point. “But if you do need me, I’ll always be there for you, okay? I promise.”

The smile on Rin’s face could’ve melted the ice caps. “Thank you.”

Luna stopped her as she started to leave. “Hold on, one more thing. Each one only works once before it shatters, so you gotta save them for when you’re really in trouble, okay?”

“Okay, I will! Bye, Miss Luna!” Rin grinned, waving at her friend before hurrying after the demons.

Luna chuckled, turning back to Ai for a second before something occurred to her. “Hey, Sesshomaru!”

He didn’t turn to look at her this time, but he did pause in his walking.

Good enough. “I heard there was something going down in the Northeast—direction of the Ox and Tiger. Something to do with Naraku. Thought you might like to know.” She didn’t wait to see if he heard or registered what she said; she just hopped back on Ai’s back, and the two of them took off.

“I hope you know conflating bravery with stupid pride is more than likely to get you killed one of these days.” Ai said as she lifted into the sky.

“Oh most definitely,” Luna laughed. “But as much of a pompous man-child as he is, you can tell he cares for that girl more than he’s willing to admit.”

“That may be, but he’ll definitely kill you if you keep disrespecting him.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, for Rin’s sake.” Luna’s voice was soft, carried off by the wind. “That little angel’s been through enough, she deserves someone in her corner.”

~    ~    ~

Finally catching sight of their friends again was a bit of a relief for both Luna and Ai. It had been a long couple of days, going all the way home and coming back. Part of Luna hoped they’d get just a little bit of rest before whatever shit hit the fan next, but another part knew the odds on that were pretty low. Still, it was nice to be back.

Kagome was the first to spot them as they flew in. “It’s Luna!”

“Luna’s back!” Shippo proclaimed joyfully.

“Hey, y’all,” Luna greeted as Ai touched down. She hopped off the demon’s back as her friends offered their greetings. “What’d I miss?” She asked.

Miroku was the one to answer. “Quite a lot. It seems that we may encounter a new enemy: the local villagers recently informed us of a group of mercenaries called the Band of Seven. The villagers believe these ruthless killers may have been brought back from the dead.”

With a grin on her face, Luna shrugged at the idea. “Undead mercs, huh? Nothin’ we can’t handle.” She held up her fist for her sister to bump it, and as Ai changed back to her human form, Luna noticed their little group was smaller than it should’ve been. “Where’s Sango?”

Kagome bumped fists with her sister, smiling at Luna’s nonchalant comment. “She went off with Kilala. I sensed a Jewel Shard nearby earlier… so I think she may have gone to look for Kohaku.”

Luna didn’t have time to respond. Off in the distance, she heard the distinctive echo of a sound she was all too familiar with.

Inuyasha hopped up onto a tree limb, hoping to get a look at what was happening. He couldn’t see it, but he sure as hell could smell it. “And it ain’t from just a handful of people, either.”

So much for a second to rest, Luna chuckled to herself as she tightened the straps on her backpack and immediately kicked into gear. “What’re we waiting for, then?”

And off they were, charging headlong into danger as always. Luna could sense something was up; more so than usual. The stench of blood was never a good sign in the first place, but there was something else setting off warning bells. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.

The smell got stronger and stronger, until… they reached its source. Despite the amount of nasty shit she’d seen in her ten years of hunting supernatural monsters, there were some things that still turned her stomach, and seeing a single human being standing in a veritable ring of blood and gore was definitely one of them. His black hair was pulled into a twist; his lips were painted red, he had blue tattoos like tear tracks under each eye, and one side of his kimono was tucked up under his belt. The dude was just squatting in the middle of the carnage, eyeballing the barrel of a matchlock gun like it was his first time seeing one (which, hell, it might be, she thought to herself; in this time, they would’ve only recently been invented). He seemed completely unbothered by the dozen and a half bodies of freshly murdered warriors and their horses surrounding him.

Inuyasha was the one to get to the scene just ahead of the others, calling back over his shoulder: “Stay back! Don’t come over here!”

Instinctively, Luna remained in front of her sister, her arm out to try and block her view. Her stomach was churning, and her hand was poised to pull her gun if needed. No way this guy could be human… right?

“Did… that one person do all this?” Kagome’s voice was a shocked whisper.

It was then that the guy in the middle noticed them. He stood, his sword over his shoulder and his head cocked slightly to the side.

“Are you the one I’ve been looking for?” He asked, a grin on his face as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “Are you Inuyasha?!”

“Got a bad feeling about this.” Luna mumbled, “That guy isn't a demon, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Kagome uttered back to her, “I don’t sense a demonic aura….”

“How’d you know my name?!” Inuyasha demanded.

He got no answer out of the guy with the sword. Instead, the guy squealed: “You’re adorable!”

A dumbfounded silence fell over the group. Luna glanced around at the others to make sure she didn’t just lose her mind—but no, the general consensus among her friends was along the lines of ‘what the actual fuck?’

“I especially love those fuzzy ears of yours!” The guy continued, licking his lips. “I want them~”

Alright, so this guy was nuts. Luna had had enough of ignoring the bad vibe she was picking up from him. She dropped her bag next to Kagome’s bike and readied herself for a fight: detached the ammo bag and shotgun holster from her pack and slung them over her shoulder, slipped her short sword through one of the belt loops on her jeans, and pulled her shotgun to make sure it was in hand and loaded. She kept her eyes moving back and forth between Inuyasha and the dude with the sword during the next exchange:

“Who are you?” Inuyasha demanded, “What are you after? You don’t smell like a living person, you reek like corpses and graveyard soil!”

No answer.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said in realization: “Could he be—?”

“Yep,” Inuyasha confirmed, before calling out to the guy with the sword again: “Some villagers were talking! They said some disgusting specter rose up from the grave. That’d be you, I presume!”

Right, zombies, Luna thought to herself; if he really is undead, the Sacred Salt won’t do as much as it would a demon… It’d sting, but what I really need is-… She smirked and holstered her gun again, grabbing a different weapon from the bottom of her bag.

“Are you one of the Band of Seven?!” Miroku asked of the specter as Luna was tuning back in. “Answer me!”

After a long pause as the specter seemed to size the monk up, his response was even worse than before. “Inuyasha really is good looking, but you’re pretty sexy yourself~”

Luna snorted so hard she thought she was gonna eject her brain through her nose. Ai whacked her in the arm as a warning.

“No one minds if I suck him up, do they?” Miroku grumbled.

“No.” Inuyasha said, flatly.

“Hold on!” Kagome said, “He’s got a Sacred Jewel Shard! He must’ve been revived with the power of the Shard!”

“So that was what I was sensing,” Luna mumbled, “but why does it feel off...?”

“Where’d you get the Jewel Shard?!” Inuyasha once again attempted to pose a question to their opponent, only to once again receive a weird, adoring response:

“You know, you’re cute when you’re angry~!”

“Shut up!” Inuyasha shouted, jumping forward and drawing his sword. “Alright, dead man, you’d better start talking to me, and I want real answers!”

The expression on the specter’s face shifted from one of reverence to one more sadistic as he regarded Tetsusaiga. “That’s an interesting sword you have there… let’s see whose is stronger.” He lifted his own sword, making an odd motion around his head and shoulders with it as if he were gearing up for something. “Yours or mine?!”

When he brought his arm down, something that looked almost like a bolt of silver lightning shot from his blade. Inuyasha barely had the chance to block it as it cut an arc through the air toward him.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome called out in surprise.

“Stay back!” Miroku threw his arm out in an attempt to shield the others. “It’s some kind of trick sword!”

“That’s my cue!” Ai shifted into full demon form, jerking her head at the sisters and the little fox. “All aboard!”

Kagome climbed on no issue, but Luna glanced at Miroku, who made no move to follow them. “You coming?”

“I’ll be alright, you keep them safe.” Miroku said, resolute. Not about to argue, Luna climbed on the demon’s back and Ai leapt into the air above the fight.

“You gonna be okay holding all of us after that long flight?” Luna asked her friend.

“I’m fine, it’s the same weight as you with your pack on.” Ai sassed back.

“Yeah well, fuck me for being prepared,” Luna laughed, starting to prep the other weapon she’d brought.

Kagome managed to tear her eyes from the confrontation below to try and see what her sister was doing. “What did you bring, Luna?”

Luna grinned as she clicked the last accessory into place, then turned back to show her sister. “This? This is my baby.” She held up her favorite weapon: it was a fully-customized folding compound crossbow as long as Luna’s arm. She pressed a release on the side, and the arms shot into place, making both Shippo and Kagome jump.

“Whoa!” The fox demon exclaimed, “What kind of a weapon is that?!”

“It’s a crossbow, Shippo,” Kagome explained, “It’s kind of like my bow, but the arrows are smaller and it’s easier to fire.”

“Self-loading, too,” Luna smirked as she strung it up, “The ‘arrows’ are called bolts or darts. This thing can shoot way faster than a longbow, and since we’re dealing with Zombie Harley Quinn down there—” She grabbed a bolt from her ammo bag to show it to them, “—we’re gonna need these. They’re tipped with pure silver. Great for dealing with Vampires, Werewolves, The Undead, and The Unholy.”

Shippo reached out to touch it, but Kagome stopped him, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s safe to assume you shouldn’t touch anything Luna has in her bag, Shippo.”

The kid swallowed nervously. “G-got it...”

Below them, the fight continued. Inuyasha could barely avoid each strike of the snakelike sword, and his opponent only seemed to be having more and more fun.

“What do you think of Jakotsu of the Band of Seven, huh?!” He shouted as he swung the sword once more.

“Not too much!” Inuyasha came back at him with Tetsusaiga, but to no avail.

Kagome gasped. “He needs help!”

“That’s what this baby’s for,” Luna grinned, patting her crossbow. “Ai, can you stay out of reach of the sword but get me close enough to shoot?!”

“It’ll take a miracle!”

“Better start praying, then,” Luna lined up the shot, finger still as stone on the trigger. There was a familiar voice in the back of her head; she could hear her father saying: “Aim for where they’re gonna be, not where they are.”

I know, dad. She tried not to sigh audibly as she managed to get Jakotsu’s head in her crosshairs and pulled the trigger, quick as a viper.

And… almost missed him.

The consecrated silver bolt seemed to burn through the air as it shot just centimeters shy of the specter’s nose and grazed his arm, burning a hole in his kimono. He whipped his attention to the woman who shot it.

“How dare you interfere?!” He snarled, rearing his arm back and whipping his blade toward them.

Luna felt her stomach drop.

“You idiot!” Ai snapped at her, trying to fly out of range of the sword as Kagome and Shippo both clung, screaming, to Luna’s back. Just as the sword arched toward them, there was a familiar cry of:

“HIRAIKOTSU!”

And Jakotsu’s blade was then tangled around the aforementioned boomerang. All three riding on Ai’s back sighed in relief when they saw Sango swoop in on Kilala. Ai touched down just as Kilala did, transforming into her human form and unceremoniously dumping the sisters on their asses.

“Are you all okay?” Sango called over to them.

“We’re fine!” Shippo answered.

“Perfect timing, Sango!” Kagome said.

“Some weapon, Luna!” Ai huffed in the Hunter’s direction. Luna just stuck her tongue at her.

Jakotsu was practically red in the face, shrieking in frustration: “What is with all you vile women?! Can’t you see I’m trying to battle Inuyasha?!” In the same breath, he whipped his sword again, toward Sango this time. The movement freed Hiraikotsu, and ended up leaving a small slice on Sango’s arm as Jakotsu pulled it back.

“Stay out of this!” He continued, “None of you will interfere!”

But their “interference” had served Inuyasha well enough: it gave him just the opportunity he needed to rear back and punch the specter in the face.

“Shut up! I’m tired of listening to your pointless babble!” Inuyasha growled.

Jakotsu grunted as he tumbled back, then rubbed his cheek and pouted like a kicked puppy. “That was cruel…”

“Oh, get over it!” Inuyasha snapped, “Now tell me who gave you the Sacred Jewel Shard before I have to seriously hurt you!”

Kagome and Miroku rushed to see if Sango was okay, but she assured them that it was just a graze; she was fine. Her attention was more on the subject at hand.

“I have a feeling that the shard came from Naraku,” She said, somberly. She looked at Kagome. “When you sensed a Jewel Shard earlier… it was Kohaku. I saw the Saimiyosho around him as well.”

“That means that your brother is still under Naraku’s control…” Miroku said. Sango nodded.

Luna had set her weapon down next to her backpack, and came back with a bandage for Sango’s arm. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the hell they were gonna handle this—first an undead band of Ronin, now they have something to do with Naraku. What was Naraku playing at...?

“Gotta wonder what the hell is next…” Luna mumbled sarcastically.

Seconds later, she would regret asking. A cloud of black smoke poured over the cliffside, drifting right toward them.

Like he knew what was happening, Jakotsu got up and collected his sword. “Inuyasha! You should get out of here while you can! Bye!” And with that, he was just… gone.

“What the hell—” Inuyasha broke off with a startled yell when the cloud reached him. “Its poison!”

“But where’s it coming from?!” Miroku wondered.

“We need to move.” Luna reassembled her bag in less than thirty seconds—side effect of doing it so often. “We can figure out what the hell is going on when we’re safely away from here!”

Why do I feel like we stepped into something huge here? Luna thought to herself as the group of friends moved away from the cloud of gas.

#fanfic #inuyasha oc #inuyasha au #the lunar saga #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanart #inuyasha #sesshomaru #sango #miroku #shippo

[blulemonades]

The Training Scene

 Edited 8-21-21

Prompt Scene to the Series: Rising Sun

Description: Y/N and Jasper are in charge of training both the other Cullens and Uley Pack, how to fight an army of Newborns. Still on touchy ground, Paul realizes the cruel severity of his imprint previous life and the rest of the pack seem to gain more respect for the tiny leech.

Word count:1902

DISCLAIMER: I USED SOME OF THE DIALOGUE WRITTEN BY MEYER IN THIS PROMPT. I USED THEM AS A WAY TO FIX MY STORY IN WITH HER STORY MORE FLUIDLY.

Warnings: physical fighting, foul language, talk of death

a/n: Paul and the rest of the pack will be wolf form for most of this scene anything in Bold will be the conversation between the pack.

I avoided looking at anyone in the pack as they walked through the tree line. While my family gawked and stared at the large pack, I stood tensed, swallowing the pings and pangs of guilt I felt for not sharing this detail with my family. However this wasn't my information to give them.

Trying to refocus my thoughts towards helping Jasper with plans of training. It became hard to drift from the grey-silver wolf that held my shattered heart in his hands. Anger and Embarrassment still flooded through my system from our last conversation. I was hurt that he had thought so low of me and that he felt the need to scream at me in front of the whole pack.

I flinched as the memory of what I said popped back in my head. 

~

“Do you really think I wanted to be this monster?” I spun around to stare at him. Ignoring the eavesdropping teens behind me. Paul's face still held the ame disgust, as it did after Jacob told everyone of the newborn army.

“You honestly think that I asked to be this bloodsucking filth.” Paul's face flashed in shock at my phrasing.

" I had a life." I stressed the last word " A good life. With a doting husband, who I only recently found out, killed himself because he couldn't protect me." 

I never told Paul about Jonathan...or anything about my past because…Well he never seemed to care. Hell, Alice and Jasper are the only ones that even knew about Jonathan's suicide...maybe Edward but- \

Finally looking and registering the blank look that was Paul’s face now. I felt nothing but anger as I tried to bite my tongue from telling him anymore. He doesn't deserve to know about Jon. He doesn't get to use that against me like he uses everything else to attack me.

He just doesn't understand the fuckery that I've had to deal with. “ Did you know that one of the uhh-” I looked back at the ground “side efforts~” 

I almost laughed at my word choice. “Of being a leech is that you can’t kill yourself.” I could hear his heart skip a beat. “ Yeah... we can kill each other just not ourselves.”

A laugh escaped my throat, then another , then another. I shook my head, trying to pull myself back together. “And I know that because I tried every single method of the book."

“Even lighting myself on fire, did nothing but tickle me.”

"Y/n" I heard him breathe, then I felt the tiniest brush of a touch on the top of my shoulder. Jerking away from him, and looking back at his face. I saw the disgust that had laced in his expression and eyes were gone. In its place, was an expression of remorse. 

Full on laughing I tried to continue my speech, “It’s hilariously fucked up isn’t it” If I could cry I would be. I swallow the dry sob in the back of my throat. 

“Well my whole entire existence is fucked up actually.” I started to calm down. “ If it wasn’t, I would be 6 feet under right now.”  

“ Y/n” He started but I held up a hand to stop him, but he squeezed out “ It was a bad choice of word-.” 

"Of course!" I blew up. " Because you didn't know." I raised an eyebrow as he raised a hand to touch me again. He put it back down as when he saw the flames in my eyes. I continued "Because you never gave me the chance to explain to you what I went through. You just assumed that I asked for it ." 

"I'm done with having to defend myself, morally from you."   I turned and headed back to my vehicle, ignoring Paul's yells, as I slammed the car door. Bella would just have to get a ride from Jake. 

~

A wave of calmness hitting my system pulled me from the embarrassing memory. My eye shot up to Jasper, who was on the other side of her. He was still staring straight ahead. 

“Welcome” Carlisle spoke, I let my gaze settle on his relaxed stance out in the middle. My father has always amazed me with his calm appearance. 

"I know it must be a difficult thing for you to come." Then he went on to explain that Edward would be acting as a translator, so that way they don't have to phase if they don't want to.

“Thank you” Edward replied in a gruff tone. “We will only watch and listen, but no more. That is the most we can ask of our self-control.” I was thrilled more by that statement than I should be. I was hopeful that maybe I would be able to leave this place without a glance at a certain wolf.

“That is more than enough,” Carlisle smiled calmly. “My son Jasper” his right hand moved to gesture  “And daughter, Y/N '' his hand then shifting slightly to me, I nodded in acknowledgement to Carlisle gaze.

If I was still human, I would have had thousands of tiny goosebumps, up and down my arms right now. It felt like there were at least a thousand eyes on me.

"-have experience in this area. They will teach us how the newborns fight, and how they will be defeated. I’m sure you can apply this to your own hunting style." I heard a low rumble among the wolves 

“They are different from you?” asked Edward. Or Sam? This is getting confusing already. Carlisle smiled, “How about I let them explain.” again gesturing toward Jasper and me before stepping back to stand next to Esme. Jasper and I both walked up from the back to where Carlisle stood in the middle. 

I took a quick glance at Jasper and knowing, he would want to talk more than I did but I promised to speak mainly to the wolves if he explained more to our family. So that meant this question was for me to answer. 

Directing and keeping my attention to Sam, I tried to stay unfazed as I spoke “Yes, as they are still very new to this life. The Newborns will be full of frenzy driven by the brute strength given to them from the blood that still lingers in their system."  

"The newborns will fight amongst themselves. As of today we know that their numbers sit at 20. Ten for us and ten for you, with that it shouldn't be too difficult. but it's highly likely that their numbers will either lower farther or raise. ”  A rumble of excitement seems to run through them. 

“We are happy to take more than our share. If necessary” Edward translated, I notice the change in the tone. I smiled, “We will have to see.”

“ What makes you two more qualified on this matter than any of the others?” Edward spoke again. 

 There was a rustle next to me as Jasper took a step forward. Arms behind his back, his stance reminded me of my first meeting with him after I changed, posed and ready for a fight. 

“Y/N and I were forced into this life for the same reason as these newborns were forced. Except developed a conscience that our creator-" spoke with clear disgust in his tone. " -did not have control over." 

I heard a small gasp behind me and a small rustling of feet behind me. Clearly Bella did not know this strange detail. Jasper began to pace. I always picked on him when he did this. 'Your military is showing', I would say. But right now, it was nothing short of intimidating how he stood. 

“We know how to defeat them because we know what it's like to be them.” “Thank you” Edward quickly cut him off. “We will watch now.” Nodding Jasper turned to face back to our family. 

“There are 2 things you need to know, 1. Don’t let them get their arms around you; they will crush you instantly. 2.” He stopped turning back to face the wolves.

I flashed a look at Sam, the black wolf stood taller staring back at the ex-major. 

“ Don’t go for the obvious kill “ Jasper spoke clearly emphasizing each word wanting them to understand him. “ They will be expecting that. “ Jazz relaxed “ and you will lose. “ Sam let out a huff in response. 

“ Y/N and Emmett, you are up first.” I heard a mumble pass down the wolf line as everyone spread back leaving me and Emmett at different ends of the field.

“This should be good” Emmett spoke now, seeming to warm himself up, rubbing his hands together. 

“Emmett relies on his strength very much like the newborns.” Jasper said “ so he will be a good example for you.” He looked between Emmett and I. "Start whenever you are ready." I smiled at Em “Don’t hold back” cockily,  he let out a bearish laugh at ending it with a smirk. “Not in my nature” and he charged.

I felt the wind as he chucked me in the air, quickly catching myself in a landing spin charging back at him. It seemed not even a long second had passed before I had his large head smashed into the ground. 

“Again” Emmett growled. Smiling, I pushed away from him. I tried to ignore the huffs and snorts coming from the wolves' side.

“Don’t lose your focus” I told him “Following your emotions is only making your moves more predictable.” He nodded, standing up and heading over to his end of the field again. I nodded toward Jasper who agreed with my assessment, gesturing to continue with Emmett.

Taking my place again, Emmett charged and within the next minute he was already calling for another rematch. 

"Don't turn your back on your enemy." Jasper spoke with an eye roll. 

**Paul’s Pov**

"Y/n is kicking his ass." laughed Jared. Silently laughing with him I watched as Y/N jumped on top of the big Cullen twisting him mid-air and slamming him into the ground again. 

"That she is, " agreed Sam lightly chuckling.

Watching her first stand across the field from that large Cullen made my insides twist in worry; however, as I watched her pin him in no time flat, it seemed to bring a sense of pride in me. It only made me feel even more guilty. I shouldn't be happy to finally see her again. I didn't deserve it. Not after what I said about her.

"God, please just apologize to her already" spoke Leah, before I could reply Sam growled softly

" Leah," he warned.

"Shut up" I replied harshly. "I'll keep my thoughts to myself."

"What? I am only trying to help! Out of all of us. I'm the one who knows best how to handle the emotional range of a woman." Quick to defend herself, I realized Leah made sense.Before anyone could really respond to her statement. We watched as Gruff-man walked off the field. Leaving only Y/n on the field...undefeated. Edward stepped up, Jacob tensed as Edward's death flashed in his thoughts

"Jake" Sam barked

Watching all the Cullen's fight each other it was clear to anyone that both Y/N and Jasper were the only experienced ones. Either of them lost a fight with any of the others. It made me wonder…

"We're done for the day"

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[my-sherlock221b]

Supernatural Rewatch Ramblings: Bloodlust

2020-21 has been a huge transformative time for many of us. Whether we wanted it or not, we have been forced to stop, switch gears, rethink, reflect, let go, make new priorities, discover who we really are and who we want to be in the face of adversity.

One of those transformations for me has been giving up on control and finding a way to surrender to the power of the universe. Another has been to not let perfection be the enemy of good.

You may well wonder---What does all this have to do with the Bloodlust rewatch and review??!

Probably nothing LOL except for the fact that I still have to write up my review on Bloody Mary and have been unable to write for various reasons. And then because the Bloody Mary review was still incomplete I could not write about the next one etc etc etc.

So when we watched Bloodlust two days ago in the continuing re-watch, I decided that I am going to re-start the review, and from exactly where I am right now!

If time and life permits I might fill in the gaps later. If not, well, life is unpredictable and weird and we keep calm as it carries on….Thank you for coming to my Philosophy talk….:)

Read below for the Boodlust  review, Season 2 episode 3 and look out for the post from @soulmates-for-real​ on this rewatch too!! 

The opening scene is the perfect switch and bait because we as an audience have been trained to latch on to types and identities and representations.

Woman in white night gown screaming and running--victim

Person who brutally beheads her—villain.

A few minutes into the episode we realize that we were wrong.

A good few minutes later we realize that we were wrong about being wrong.]

Haha.

We are idjits, swept away on the eddies and currents of this masterfully written and directed episode. Thank you Sera Gamble and Robert Singer!

The acting and the mesmerizing beauty of the two leads is worthy of an entire essay of its own but in order to have a life and finish this review I shall only say this—Oh my goodness HOW gorgeous is Jensen Ackles?!!

It is sometimes impossible to look at him in this episode because my eyes didn’t know where to land! That perfect face? The lips? Those eyes?? The quirk of the eyebrows? Those micro expressions that are constantly weaving across his face? The smile? The way his lips move when he talks?? His hair? The Samulet?

And then the shot pans out and includes his hand and the ring and honestly it’s a miracle I could follow the plot at all.

So the images I am going to include in this review, much as I love Sam Winchester and Jared Padalecki, are all of Dean Winchester. It’s a criminal waste to not do so when the man is just an ode to perfection.

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Sheila O’Malley’s review of this episode is in itself a work of art and a thing of beauty so I will direct you most enthusiastically towards it and only add here my little pennyworth bits. Do click on this link but be prepared to sink into a one hour read which will make you feel like you were dropped into the episode itself.

https://www.sheilaomalley.com/?p=87187

Here is a quote from her review which is so insightful.

These are the details that a director like Robert Singer never misses, and at this point his relationship with Ackles and Padalecki would be almost telepathic (it’s probably 100% telepathic now). He has said before that he and Kripke were such a good team because Kripke’s primary concern is Plot/Gore/Horror and Singer’s primary concern is Character/Relationship. And they both end up in the same place. It’s a good mix. If Singer were also Plot/Gore/Horror focused, we wouldn’t have the depth of relationship which is the real point of the show, its real hook.

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For a much briefer and far less technically adept and analytical review, read on here!

*

The opening of this episode shows us the Impala from every possible angle. Gleaming, gorgeous, road -worthy. This is mirrored by Dean. He is also gleaming, gorgeous and roadworthy. He is in a happy mood that not even Sam’s little brother snitty comments can deflate.

Here is the soundtrack of this episode for those who are interested.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0835248/soundtrack

Here is some random but fun trivia:

Dean tells Sam in one scene "If it's     Supernatural, we kill it." One of the rare times the title of the     show is actually spoken in the dialogue.

This is the first episode where Sam began parting his     hair down the middle, the hairstyle he'd keep the rest of the series.

( I didn’t like his hair too much in this episode honestly but then again I could barely see anyone beyond Dean :D)

During the filming of this episode Jared injured his     hand when he fell badly during a stunt. He thought it was merely sprained     and went straight into filming the next episode without having it checked.     But it got more and more painful and finally he went to the doctor and     discovered that his hand was, in fact, broken. Because he had already     begun filming, he couldn't bandage the hand until filming for that episode     was finished. The writers ended up writing in an accident for Sam and his     line "I think she broke my hand" to explain the fact that for     the following few episodes he would be wearing a cast.

When Dean kills a vampire, blood is sprayed on his     face, mostly on his right cheek. In the next shot the pattern is     different, and notably the right cheek is almost clean. Furthermore, his     mouth was agape when he made the kill, risking the blood getting into his     mouth and turning him into a vampire. While the brothers didn't yet know     how a vampire is made at that point, Gordon did and should have been     alarmed that Dean might have gotten some of the blood in his mouth.

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A random behind the scene shot from the episode:

Guess who she is? Apparently this is Jensen’s sister in a super brief role in Bloodlust!

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On to the review, or rather some of my thoughts during the re-watch.

The first scene with the Sheriff they are interrogating him about the cattle mutilations is hilarious. The way they bluff their way into the morgue is hilarious. Dean always leading and Sam following.

Random trivia: When Dean enters the morgue with Sam and sees the name tag of "J Manners", it has been thought the name was to honor Jeffrey Dean Morgan and series producer Kim Manners. Dean guesses "John" - Jeffrey's character name - and the intern corrects with "Jeff"

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It a testament to the way Supernatural has trained its audience that we barely blink when they pull out a decapitated head in the morgue, squabble over who is more chicken, dig into the mouth and eventually discover vampire fangs.

Yes, of course they do.

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Next scene: Two hot guys walk into a bar…..

…….where the adorable Benny, who is not Benny in this episode but a random dude ( spoilers—later we find out the dude is a vampire), gives them directions/ mis- directions to a possible vampire nest.

We see the first glimpse of Gordon Walker, amazingly played by Sterling K. Brown, and making us worry about and dislike him almost right away. The way he is shown with the light and shade bars on his face from the window blinds is so menacing.

The next few scenes continue to build that sense of unease where the Winchester brothers, apparently telepathically, decide to double back and catch him following them, then he shows them his car and his weapons, where he references their dad and then refuses their offer for help.

The scene where he shows them his car is like a painting. (The car by the way is just as inconspicuous as the Impala –which is to say NOT AT ALL!! How do these people stay below the radar of the regular law enforcement is a mystery….).

The dust highlighting the rays of light, the two brothers on one side of the car and Gordon at the other, it’s all so consciously set up for a few seconds worth of screen time. Impressive!

Next comes a truly brutal kill, at Dean’s hands, which we don’t even see except as a spray of blood on his face. Poetic! But it is Dean’s expression that makes my stomach clench. His eyes are dead and he is somewhere deep that even Sam can’t reach, as we can see from the distress on Sam’s face.

Gordon of course is all chipper and full of bonhomie and offers to buy them drinks.

That following scene is the one which gives Wincest brother-wives vibes like 100%.

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Sam plays the role of the disgruntled ‘wife’ to perfection. No one but hubby is allowed to use the nickname. He hates the male bonding going on with Gordon and the more Gordon seems to slip into Dean’s inner circle, the more uncomfortable Sam gets, until he finally decides that he just cannot physically be there any more.

Dean’s smug expression when Sam tells Gordon off for calling him Sammy, his instant worry at Sam going back alone, his hand raised in exasperation to convey to Gordon—look what I have to put up with-- the tossing of the keys to his car----it is all a symphony of Dean playing his part in the brother-wives orchestra.

The last line?! ‘Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you later.’ And Sam’s expression at that? That’s exactly the way a bullying /abusive husband would react to a nagging wife who doesn’t like his toxic friends and wonders how he can be so blind as to not see them for the bad influence they clearly are.

( Bad Dean!!!)

Sam goes back to the motel and does his due diligence by checking with Ellen, gets kidnapped by vampires, released and on his return is disgusted to find Gordon inside their motel room.

*

The next scene is where Dean erupts, having clearly had enough of the shifting power dynamics between them over the evening. Sam has been silently judging him since the kill and Gordon has managed to ‘other’ Sam and make Dean feel validated in his own bloodlust as a hunter.

Dean clocks Sam one.

Wow. I did not see that coming. And what shocked me at this re- watch is that Sam just takes it.

Like an abused wife, he just takes it. Not only that, sometime later in the episode he tells Dean to hit him again if it is going to make him feel better.

NO Sam! NO!!! This is NOT healthy and this is NOT the way to deal….ugh. Sigh.

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Then the second half of the episode swings in and the moral dilemma they face becomes clear when the victim and villain switch roles and Dean is shook enough to question his dad’s judgement!

Dean is still kind of trying to give Gordon the benefit of the doubt even though he sees him literally torturing the vampire. But of course all bets are off the instant he touches Sam. Dean pulls his gun on him. I was surprised that he didn’t shoot him just on principle later simply because he hurt Sam even if it was a small cut.

That is Dean’s definition of monsters-- Anything that hurts Sam. 😊

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We don’t know it at this time, and spoilers ahead, but maybe Dean has been so annoyed and violent with Sam at the idea that he is standing up for MONSTERS is because he might also be one….and the way he looks at the end when he realizes that his whole life’s philosophy has been upended.

There are the details about the vampires who drink cattle blood so they don’t harm humans and therefore want to be treated as the good guys. Of course it is all about the inherent struggle between who you are and what you do—something that shows up hugely magnified in the later seasons when Sam is struggling with his own demon blood addiction and the knowledge of the demon blood inside him.

He needs desperately to believe in this as the utmost foundation stone of his life and its purpose—what you DO is more important than what you ARE!

So even if you are a monster, if you don’t behave like one—that is your redemption.

But it’s not just anybody whose faith he wants in his struggle to prove to himself that he is not a monster. He needs it from Dean.

Remember the dialogue from the panic room “Don’t you say that to me. Don’t YOU say that to me.”

And the fake voicemail set up by Zachariah exploits this at the time of the breaking of the last seal.

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Of course he doesn’t know any of this yet, but that’s Sam fucking Winchester for you –always purer and better than his circumstances allow. Always struggling to do better, be better.😍

*

It is fascinating how the visuals and the roles these two play are of rugged handsome men, badass heroes-- Dean of course super macho role playing all the time. But there are so many layers upon layers and honestly if it wasn’t for Jared and Jensen’s fine nuanced and impeccable acting adding depth to the characters, the show would not have held our interest for this long.

We are shown Sam as the brains with his lore and research, but then in the very next episode (Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things), we see Dean connect dots faster than Sherlock Holmes.

Dean is shown as the instinctively violent one with the gun under his pillow, trigger happy, and in this episode even that brutal kill of the vampire on the docks. But then please remember the way Sam kills Gordon finally. Or the insane way he bites himself to get blood for drawing sigils. Or the way he just simply shoots the crossroads demon point blank!

We see Sam as the soft hearted one and he does rescue kids once in a while, but he is never shown to bond with them even a fraction of the way Dean does—so effortlessly. Also the ladies of course, all of whom have a soft spot for Dean. The exceptions being Sarah and Madison, both of whom completely ignored Dean. Oh and that doctor from Sex and Violence.

Dean has had his share of bad dates of course with Cassie, the woman who gave birth to his magical superfast growing daughter ( who was killed by Sam), and the whole Lisa arc, but somehow we are shown Sam as the one who is invested in relationships. Hello?! Sam was planning to marry Jessica without having told her a thing about his life while Dean told Cassie the secret as soon as he thought he was in love and wanted a relationship.

So anyway, just to say that a rewatch is so brilliant because we know more about them at this point than they do and the character arc is such a thing of beauty to see unfolding!

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That last scene where Dean is in a thoughtful frame of mind, the sun is rising overhead ( as a metaphor for him seeing the light, maybe?)--that insanely gorgeous shot of Dean with the ring of fire and light and his absolutely perfect face in a close up…sigh.

Then he thanks Sam for pushing him to see this grey area and for the first time in that episode Sam finally smiles.

His big brother is back with him.

And then he commits to Dean too. Ah…how it warms my heart to hear this dialogue!

 DEAN I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up.

SAM What do you mean?

DEAN Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives.

SAM Okay.

DEAN What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us...

SAM Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.

DEAN I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.

SAM You didn't kill Lenore.

DEAN No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.

SAM Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters.

DEAN Yeah. Well, 'cause you're a pain in my ass.

SAM Guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then.

DEAN Thanks.

SAM Don't mention it.

Transcript here http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=2.03_Bloodlust_%28transcript%29

 Guess Sam does stick around for the next 15 years to be a pain in the ass 😊

Some quotes from the writers about this episode: 

·  "The episode was really about what Dean would become if he didn't watch out: that Gordon was Dean in ten years if Sam didn't ask the difficult questions and keep him from getting too militant." - Executive story editor Sera Gamble

· "We set out to create a monster episode where you weren't entirely sure whether these monsters should be killed." - Eric Kripke

· "For me, the show is at its best when the supernatural story reveals something new about the brothers, or forces them to change in some way. Sam and Dean's realization that they've basically been raised as 'monster racists' was really meaty stuff. Exploring these characters' flaws is just as important as showcasing their heroism - these are the things that make them human, that make us invest in them." - Raelle Tucker

Check out this site for more amazing trivia and stuff

http://www.jonescave.com/supernatural/Episode/Episode.php?s=2&e=3#PopCulture

I have already finished watching the next episode ‘Children’s Shouldn’t play with Dead Things’….so let’s hope I get around to writing a review sometime soon !

#spn #spn review #spn meta #sam and dean #bloodlust #the epic love story of sam and dean #wincest #brother wives

[catboycafe]

I Will Now Express Every Thought I Have About Pacific Rim: The Black 

⚠️ spoilers for the whole thing baby

I actually forgot Pacific Rim: The Black was premiering today until I saw it in an article this morning! When I first heard about it months ago, I was decidedly not sold on a Pacific Rim anime. Uprising burnt me the fuck out and I don’t have a lot of trust left in me for new entries to the franchise. But I had heard rumblings of Raleigh and Herc being referenced after going into #pacificrim and I decided I may as well check out to see what was up! I binged it in 4 hours and it sure was a whirlwind, I’ll tell ya

The Plot

I really enjoy the setting and initial concept! We’re so use to seeing Kaiju/Jaegar shenanigans play out within these major cities with helpless civilians everywhere that spending so much time in a lonesome desert and these destroyed civilizations was really cool and indicative of the changes Pacific Rim has undergone in the last few years. I also looooved the Desert Settlement from the beginning!! It seemed really homey and picturesque; I wish we’d spent more time with the other survivors and got to see more of their day to day aside from farming and sitting. 

I also found the first episode set up to be really tight and well written! I was hooked during the initial flashback, Hayley and Taylor’s fight was really poignant and well acted, and the reveal of Atlas Destroyer felt really huge and epic!!

But once we left the Desert Settlement and the plot started actually moving along, the pacing becomes suuuper rough. We spent way too long in Bogan with Shane and Mei; there’s only 7 episodes and we spent, like, 3? 4? within the confines of that camp and I felt it weighed the plot down. Boy is introduced in the 2nd episode and, because the narrative spends so much time on Shane’s evil machinations and Mei’s back story, we still don’t know anything concrete about his origins or purpose 3 episodes later! That felt frustrating to me

The story beats overall were very predictable. I was able to pick up on Mei’s backstory via her dynamic with Shane in their introductions, so her memories felt too built up and too hollow once they were revealed. The same with the reveal of Boy’s Kaiju form; he was in a big green test tube in a PPDC base - I assumed immediately he was a part-kaiju experiment and again his reveal felt hollow, especially after the glacial pace of it’s development. 

Even when events weren’t predictable, they lacked weight. The appearance of several Kaiju Breaches in “Boneyard” felt very cheap for some reason; I wasn’t scared and I didn’t feel tense about these odds mounting against the protagonists. This was just happening and I was just watching. 

The Art Direction and Animation

I’m very obsessed with all the new Kaiju we got from this; I love how Copperhead is rendered, they’re a joy to see on screen!! The Rippers are also very cute and deserve little plushies...i love these neat little dogs. Boy’s Kaiju Form is very intimidating with an interesting color palette and I loved seeing him next to Copperhead’s highly saturated design!

That’s unfortunately all that I liked however; All the human character design is unmemorable to me. Every character looks exactly like another easily identifiable anime character from a different property (Hayley looks exactly like Zero Suit Samus to me, for example. And Mei kept reminding me of both Bernadetta Fire Emblem and Motoko Kusanagi from GitS. The list goes on). 

I can sort of understand why they’re so bland? A franchise going from Live Action to something as heavily stylized as anime is probably a really difficult transition and these designs are probably meant to be more lowkey than more unique anime designs in order to help that transition. But realistically stylized designs can still be recognizable and unique! These feel uninspired and bare bones.

 I have no problem with the switch to CGI animation that modern anime is doing because I know it’s a lot cheaper to produce and it can still be really unique and striking! But The Black’s model animation felt very stilted and inconsistent. I don’t have a lot of knowledge about animating so I don’t think I can accurately describe what I disliked? Wooden is probably the best term. Character movements felt wooden and things like hair and clothes felt plastic. 

Impacts also had very little weight. The fight between Tayler/Mei and Copperhead reminded me of when you’re in a dream and trying to punch something, but you can’t punch hard. It was simply too floaty and too soft. The final showdown in “Showdown” was better, but not by much. It was very immersion breaking seeing these Giant Robots and Giant Monsters unable to throw a real solid hit!

Characters

My favorite character was unequivocally Joel Wyrick. We love Joel Wyrick in this house! Joel’s character has real charisma and charm. I love his flirtations with Loa, how his cocky disposition is juxtaposed with his drinking problem and later insecurities over his lost memories, and his genuine kindness shown to Mei, Taylor, and Boy. No one ever plays with Boy, they just run after him and drag him around...but Joel has this moment in “Escape from Bogan” where he kneels down to Boy and helps him collect rocks. It was sweet!

So of course, when Joel dies for absolutely no reason 5 minutes later - pissed! I was pissed! I yelled “COME ON” aloud in my studio apartment! I was genuinely so excited to see him interact more with the rest of cast then, poof. No More Joel.

His death felt like it was for shock value to me rather than actual narrative development. Why kill him when we still don’t fully understand his and Mei’s relationship? Why were they so close? Were they childhood friends, or just coworkers that happen to become friends? Why did he specifically know all the details of Shane’s abuse towards Mei before she did? 

What did his death accomplish? It made Mei sad...ok? She was already...very sad. Her running away from Shane already had consequences - the consequences of Shane coming after them for revenge in the future. Why did Joel have to become a causality? 

His death is ultimately tied to Mei’s character arc which is, unfortunately, my least favorite :c I find Mei to be a really one dimensional character with a personality, backstory, outlook, and motivation that I’ve seen done a million times before with a million other characters. She feels very out of place in the franchise as a whole - Pacific Rim is, at it’s core, a story about connecting with others. Her self-centric arc and lack of desire to connect outside of drifting really alienates her from the story at large and it frustrates me how long The Black’s narrative spends on her. 

Hayley and Taylor were otherwise very interesting in the pilot episode, but become similarly one dimensional at the story chugs on. Taylor’s unflinching (bordering on unhealthy) faith in their parents was really interesting next to Hayley’s complete acceptance of their parents’ death. But once the two of them make up their differences, they lack an interesting dynamic and become very passive protagonists.

 Taylor especially has no personality - how would you describe Taylor? He’s...brave. He’s the older brother. He’s a leader? He’s nice? There is nothing noteworthy about him at all, which is sad considering I think he has the potential to be a really interesting way to explore the original movie’s influence on The Black’s story.

Hayley’s grief and self-blame are more interesting than Taylor’s...nothingness, but she still falls into this one-note trope of being the naive, excitable little sister. I guess I feel abnormally frustrated about this flat character writing because Pacific Rim’s incredibly unique cast has always been an inspiration to me! It feels sad that this new iteration into the series is full of what feel like stock characters. 

Then we get to Boy. How come Boy can’t have a person name? It’s specifically written in a dialogue between Taylor and Hayley: “I’m not going to call him Chad or Barnaby or one of those names for a baby brother you wanted as a kid,”

Why?

He’s by all accounts a human child when they find him. Yes, he was found in a big green test tube - but he walks and acts just like a human child. The only difference, seemingly, is that he is non-verbal and engages in strange/annoying behavior (running off, eating bugs, etc). So he isn’t deserving of a name?? I don’t know why that makes me so mad, it just does. it’s like they refuse to treat him as a human even before they find out he’s a Kaiju  - it’s super weird! How can the story sell me on the three of them becoming found family (like they’re seemingly trying to do) if the protagonists won’t even treat this kid like a kid??

Misc. Thoughts

The callbacks to Stacker, Herc, and Raleigh were cool! I also like that Herc is a major plot point! We love Herc Hanson and it’s what he deserves. I also find Loa’s connection to Horizon Bravo very interesting...and the fact we’re getting Kaiju cultist lore! Love that! Love that!

Fucked up that the only two dark skinned characters were: 1) removed from the story 10 minutes in with no call back yet, 2) Killed after having 1 line of dialogue and fridged for the character development of the blonde white girl. I really need to know what the deal with those 4 characters leaving in the beginning was about - I absolutely thought we’d see them again by now, but no dice

I don’t know how to feel about Ajax and have no clue what their purpose in the story is. They’re cool, but whats the point? 

If Mei and Taylor are paired up together romantically, I’m putting Craig Kyle and Greg Johnson in the time out box. Very tired of seeing random hetero romance B plots in stories that can’t even get their A plots together

Overall, it’s kind of subpar! It has the foundations of a really interesting story, but the pacing and characters really took me out of it. I’m interested in Season 2! I know season 2 is already ordered and I’d love to see how things continue to develop, see if the character writing gets any better - but I’m not too hopeful unfortunately. I really really love Pacific Rim after all these years and I’m happy to still be getting content and world building! There’s just sooo much I would change about this however. At least fanfiction’s free! 

Thanks for reading all this, I have ADHD and just go on and on if u let me. hmu if You Too have thoughts about Pacific Rim: The Black and have no one to talk abt them with

#pacific rim #pacific rim: the black #pacific rim the black #taylor travis #hayley travis #long post #sorry this is thousands of words. i contain multitudes