#i feel like if there were literally anything but aesthetic disapproval it would have been fine

[elucubrare]

tor.com published an 'article' that took about 500 words to say "I don't like ice world settings....but maybe i should be a little more open-minded" & i'll take all the ice worlds he doesn't want

#it's genuinely SO funny to me as someone who spent a while actively looking for stuff set in ice wastes #tor.com's 'essays' are SO universally bad #i feel like if there were literally anything but aesthetic disapproval it would have been fine #like 'i'm a wilderness survival guy and people don't capitalize on their ice worlds for drama/ #most people's ice worlds are generic' #but nope! he doesn't like snow. #me neither bro that's why i like it when fictional people have to strive against it

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

__

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

__

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

__

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

[secondhand-trash]

Come with the Wind

Kinktober 2020 — knife play

A/N: this is directly inspired by Sakusa’s merch design from the hyakki yakou (hundred ghouls marching at night????) line Jump released a while back where we get kamaitachi!sks and i just thought he was perfect for this prompt hhhhh

Pairing: kamaitcahi!Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!reader

Description: Sakusa Kiyoomi knocked you off your feet the moment he first entered your life as a strong whirlwind out of nowhere.

Warning: mention of causing wounds on people, non-threatening stalking behaviour (?), non-threatening breaking in behaviour (?), knife play but kinda tender, vaginal penetration, creampie

Word count: 3824

(more of the modern magic au here)

-

鎌鼬 (kamaitachi): a youkai in Japanese folklore that looks like a weasel with claws shaped like sickles (for the sake of visual aesthetics kamaitachi sakusa will have it on his tail instead). It is said that this youkai appear in the form of a whirlwind, knocking its victims to the ground before slitting long cuts on their skin. Despite the wounds, the person who got attacked would not feel any pain.

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi knocked you off your feet the moment he first entered your life as a strong whirlwind out of nowhere.

Quite literally, knocking you off balance and making you fall onto the ground on your knees.

He showed up in the form of a strong turbulent, tripping you when you were alone on the quiet streets of your neighbourhood. Sakusa eyed you up and down as you laid on the cement floor, too shocked by the man that appeared out of nowhere to even move. Your eyes widening when you saw the long tail swaying behind him and the sharp hook that was at the very end.

In a world where the inhuman and human lived as one society, the many youkais that had inhabited Japan way before your kind did were starting to blend into the modern city life as well. But there would always be some that could not, or refused to, give up on the way they had lived by far before they were anything but a story passed on from generation to generation.

Except, unlike the generations before, people of the current day now knew for a fact that these monsters lurking in the shadows were very much so real and waiting for a chance to strike when your guard was lowered.

The kamaitachi stared at his victim, finding somewhere to place the wound. The preferable tactic was to do it fast and precise, but Sakusa always had trouble with making a haste decision. Very inconveniently so, he had quite the distaste towards getting blood on himself and would rather pick a position on the delicate human body that would cause less bleeding. 

Blood was messy, and it was hard to wash off of the fleece on his tail once it got on there. He did not like the mess at all.

The purpose of youkais of his kind was not to cause bloodshed. Well, actually, he wasn’t all too sure what the purpose truly was, given that he really wouldn’t gain from any of this. He had simply been told that this was what his kind did, and he carefully followed this task bestowed on him by his origins for more years than any of the measly humans that had been tripped by his wind could count.

So that was what he had been doing ever since he had a memory of his existence, and he intended to finish his task this time around too. But when his eyes met yours, your lips slightly agape as you sat on the ground from the shock, he found that he couldn’t swing the hook of his tail down onto your skin.

His moment of hesitation was enough for you to come back to your senses, climbing up with scrambled steps as you dashed towards the direction of your house without the time to even look back.

Sakusa realised that he was staring at the floor when he snapped out of his trance, letting out a muffled groan as he looked towards the direction you had headed.

What was it? Why didn’t he do it?

Sakusa had never felt so tortured in his many years of life than he did after he let you escaped completely unharmed. He had failed his one job for the first time ever and he wasn’t the happiest about it. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t get you out of his head no matter how hard he tried and it was really, really irritating him. 

It must be that he couldn’t stand having an unfinished job, it must be it.

-

He spent the next few days in the air of the neighbourhood he saw you at, which wasn’t exactly his proudest moment. It was stupid for him to care so much about a random human that got away through luck, but he was determined that he would right his wrong. There were several times when he caught you alone, but he never managed to do it. He spent a lot of time observing you but always missing the prime timing. It could be that he was far too enticed by the book you were reading (which he tried very hard to see the title clearly because he was so far away from you), or he simply got lost in the way you laugh to yourself when you thought no one was watching (he was, in fact, watching), but he always remembered in absolute frustration that he was there for a proper reason when you had left. 

So he kept going back to you again and again, waiting for the chance to make his strike.

Not because he wanted to, absolutely not.

He swore he only found out about where you lived on accident. He wasn’t really intending to be so stalker-ish but one day when he didn’t see you around all day long when he was waiting for you to show up only to spot you pacing down the streets late at night, he thought that it was absolutely foolish for you to be alone at the hour and just had to make sure you got back to your place safely. Humans were very fragile creatures was what he had learned after years of observation, and if you happened to bump into any of the more vicious youkais or worse, vicious humans, then he wouldn’t get to finish his task with you gone.

(He grumbled, as if he wasn’t one of the said dangerous youkais lurking around.)

He had resisted the urge to look into your house. There were youkais that broke into people’s residents but that wasn’t the nature of his kind and he intended to stay in his own lane. But now that he knew where you lived, it was getting harder and harder for him to stay away.

Sakusa was circling the area midair one day when he saw that the door to your tiny balcony was wide open. He felt his eyelids jumped, did no one ever tell you that you should keep all doors and windows locked when you were out? He floated close with a disapproving tsk of his tongue, wanting to help you close it up when he got a brief glimpse of what was behind the window.

He swore to all the gods whose name he could not even remember because they were far too long to utter out that he had never seen a more horrendous sight.

He took a step back, absolutely disgusted. Had humans gotten to this point of their survival now? That they could live in a condition like this? “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself as he tentatively entered your home, careful not to step on anything that was on the ground.

The trash can at the corner was filled to the top and threatening to spill out. He felt a sharp ache banging in his head when he saw the empty boxes piled up at the side. There were bunches of tissue paper shoved onto the back of your table that had no empty space on it with so many things that were scattered on top. Now that he started paying attention, there were marks on your balcony window clearly left behind because you never bothered to wipe it clean after downpours of rain.

Ridiculous. His brows furrowed together in disapproval, picking up any trash on the ground with the hook of his tail as he inspected the place.

This would not do, he would not allow it.

Right, he clicked his tongue as he looked around, searching for anything that resembled a broom, where should he start?

You were sure you must have tired yourself too much that you were starting to see illusions when you came home that night to see the same kamaitachi who had shoved you to the ground and proceed to let you escape furiously wiping your window with a towel hooked onto his tail while grumbling about how stubborn the stains were. You did not dare to move when he must have heard you come in, slowly and stiffly turning around until you two were staring at each other. Neither of you said a word, and you blinked as you tried to make sense of the situation.

You didn’t know that kamaitachis also break into people’s houses just to help with the cleaning?

“Um,” you gulped, feeling small under his inky eyes even though he was the intruder here, “do you want something to drink?”

This was wrong. Kamaitachis were not supposed to mingle with the mankind. He should have escaped through the little gap on the window he had left for ventilation (your house was far too dusty for his comfort), or throw you off by causing a whirlwind inside your tiny city apartment which was guaranteed to make quite the destruction., or just do what he thought he was there to do all along and slit an open wound on any part of your skin.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had a moment of silence when he realised that he didn’t want to do any of those things.

He did, however, really wanted warm tea.

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi made several discoveries about humans after he met you:

1. under the right amount of pressure, they are able to keep up with a hygienic living environment, you were just too lazy for your own good

2. they make really decent tea (you made him this thing where you pour tea onto rice and umeboshi once and he was completely floored)

3. they invite people to move into their residence as a gesture of affection (you had brought it up after he waited outside your balcony for a good hour before you came home and let him in, claiming that he always around anyways

4. youkai-human romances are a thing now and people wouldn’t get burned alive for it (you laughed very hard when he brought up his concerns on why you didn’t have any issues letting your neighbours see you with him, he didn’t understand why)

Oh, and they were soft, very soft. Sakusa held you just a little closer to his chest as you two sat cross legged on the mattress, his arms wrapped around your waist as he leaned his jaw onto your shoulder while you mindlessly played with his tail.

So soft.

“Careful,” he warned when he saw you tracing your finger along the edge of his reaping hook, “you’re going to cut yourself if you slip.”

You chuckled, watching as he flicked his tail as far away from you as he could. “Shouldn’t you want that to happen?” you mused, twisting around so you could see his face. The two dots above his eyebrow shifted as he narrowed his eyes, his lips pursed into one thin line. You could see the very tip of his tiny white ears peeking out of his wavy black curls, twitching ever so slightly.

He sighed, clicking his tongue at your triumphant expression like you had gotten him good. Light reflected on the silver blade as he lifted it up to your eye level, twisting it slowly so that it glimmered. He always kept the blade clean and sharp even though he hadn’t used it since meeting you. You could see your own reflection on the polished surface and you stared into his inky eyes through it.

For a moment, you were mesmerised, and you could hear your own breaths as your gaze travelled to the very tip of the hook which could draw blood even from the slightest bit of force.

“Omi,” you licked your lips and gripped onto his forearm that was around your stomach, “is it true that I wouldn’t feel it even if you slice down?”

His eyes widened, “I’m not hurting you.”

“I know, but is it?”

Sakusa paused, he hadn’t thought about it in a long time. Gently and with caution, he turned his hook to its dull edge and trail it up to your leg. You stiffen at the feeling of the cold metal on your skin, goosebumps rose on your skin where the hook just grazed past. 

“Apparently,” he said, his voice coming out as a whisper as he took in your reaction. Any hint of fear and he would pull back, but you only seemed to lean back against his chest even more as he brushed the blade along your calf. You were so delicate, he could leave such nasty scars on your skin if he did so little as flick down and you knew it. But the heaving of your chest only got more obvious when the edge of his blade reached higher and higher up on your leg until it was pushing up the hem of your shorts.

He stopped when the curved hook was right at the root of your thigh, and pressed the flat edge down.

He nearly lost control of himself when he heard the faintest resemblance of a moan slipping from your mouth.

“Do you like this?”

Your face burned up at the question and the gravel in his tone. His arms slowly pulled away from your waist, warm palms running along the curve of his waist until they were resting right at the side of your hips. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers digging down and gripping onto the hem, the fabric of your shorts now bunched up around the silver hook.

“Do you like this?” he asked again, the fleece of his tail brushing against your skin as he crooked the tip. You could see it poking under the fabric, pulling it taunt around the edge, and you felt your own voice betraying you at the thought of how easy it would be for him to just ripped it to pieces.

“Yes.”

A loud tear ripped through the room and sent numbing sparks all the way to your scalp as you held your breath in reflectively, the hook gliding across the flimsy fabric of your room wear and dangerously close to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

You whimpered when he slipped his hand under the baggy t-shirt you were wearing, pushing it up until your bare chest was out on display.

“Bite.”

You parted your mouth and took the hem between your teeth, the heat spreading onto the tip of your ears at your lewd position. He brought the sickle up, his eyes bearing at your form when he slowly ran the dull edge down the valley of your breast and onto your stomach. You wanted to arch against him so badly but held yourself still, your shoulders shaking slightly as you did not dare to move.

“I remember how people used to scream when my blade touches their skin,” his lips ghosted on where your neck met your shoulder, warm breath fanning onto you and making every hair on your back stood up. He sniggered when he heard your breath getting heavier when he brought the blade to your front. The chilling metal barely touched your nipple before it pebbled up and stood almost painfully. “But getting aroused... that is a first.”

“O- omi...” you managed to utter his name through your teeth and he brushed against your nipple with a flick, the feeling of steel still lingering on the sensitive bud.

“Look at you getting all antsy,” he clicked his tongue and the sound sent shivers down your spine. He shifted underneath you, hoisting you higher up on his lap. Something hard poked at your ass as he held you still, his erection pressed firmly against you through the shorts that were struggling to hold together.

You let out a pitiful whine when he hooked one nimble finger under the crotch of your panties while the sickle scrapped down from your shoulder to your arm, an inaudible rumble slipping from the back of his throat when he felt the slick that had seeped into the cotton.

Humans, their bodies react in the most fascinating ways.

You froze when the hook brushed past your inner thigh and under the strip of fabric his fingers were holding onto.

“Scared?” he asked, the elastic choking snugly around your skin in tension as he held the hook still, “just one wrong move and I could hurt the most delicate part of your body.”

You pussy couldn’t help but clench around nothing when he cut the last bit of fabric covering you with a forceful pull, the clear essence that was already pooling up all the more obvious when dripped onto the metal.

“Tsk tsk...” 

You could not even press your thighs together to get the friction you so desperately wanted with his hand giving you a squeeze in warning, bringing the hook up to your face as he turned it under the light. 

“You are getting my sickle all dirty,” he said, referring to the shine on the usually spotless surface that was from your arousal. Sakusa’s fingers danced along your inner thigh before bringing them to your sopping folds, brushing past your slit and felt the wetness gushing out.

He brought the hook to his lips and poked his tongue out, the sound of his tongue against the metal where it had just touched your skin forming a blood curling image in your head even though you could only hear him. He twisted his tail, letting his tongue ran along the blade from the base to the tip.

You whimpered when you felt the coldness of his saliva on the blade right at the side of your neck.

“Up.”

You shakily lifted yourself off his lap, getting onto your knees as you waited with bated breath. The sound of zippers had your heart pounding in your chest all while the sharp blade of the reaping hook was starting to make your skin go numb.

He could slit your throat if he wanted to.

Your jaw was aching from how hard you bite down and it only got worse when you felt his tip prodding at your entrance. He signaled you to sink down with a tap of his finger at the side of your hips. You could not hold yourself back anymore as his girth slowly stretched you out, your shirt falling back down over your abdomen as a breathy moan rolled off your tongue. 

“Mph-” your toes curled when he was balls deep inside of you and he tilted your head back until the curve of your neck leaned right on his shoulder with the tip of his sickle, the metal growing warm under your chin as he held you there.

He groaned at the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, the sudden penetration without any foreplay had your cunt now leaking with wetness just to get used to him. 

He slowly started rocking against you before upping his pace. He throbbed inside of you, the heat of him burning into your lower stomach and spreading all over your body. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, guiding you to roll against him all the while never removing the blade from your neck. You let out a choked mewl when the tip of it trailed down your neck, poking against the fragile skin ever so slightly when he thrust up.

Sakusa had never felt any hint of emotions in his brain when he held his blade at any of his past victims, he did it because that was simply what his kind does and that was it. But when he saw the lighter streaks left on your skin where the tip of his sickle had pressed down on, your breaths rigid but with desire dripping from each heave of your chest, he felt all sorts of feelings screaming in his head until all he could do was lash them out through each merciless rut of his hips.

The sound of his balls slapping against your ass bounced off the walls as you panted, your hands threw back to circle around his neck the blade was pressed down flat on your neck. It almost felt like you were being choked as the metal grew warm on your skin, your eyes seeing white in the corners as your walls contracted around him and his name slurred off your tongue like a mantra.

A low moan rumbled from his chest at your walls clamping down on him and the vibration seeped through your back, making you whimper. You sucked in a hasty breath when the hook was removed from your throat, his tail stiffening up at the side as he felt his own climax getting close. He buried his face at the crook of your neck, muffling his moans as he held you tight against him.

He came with a shudder, his hands still clutching you tightly before his muscles relaxed and he slumped onto your body. Your lips parted to let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his release inside of you, the sticky substance slowly leaking out of your fluttering folds down onto the base of his cock with him still buried inside of you. 

His tail, the part that was just fur and not blade, rubbed soothingly against your waist as he gently lifted you off his lap. You whimpered at the feeling of his warmth leaving your body, the sudden emptiness making your still sensitive walls clenched and more of his cum trailed down. Turning you around so that you could lay on his chest, you listened to his heartbeats slowly easing down from the rapid beating as it rose and fell underneath your chin.

His tail was swung over your back, locking you in as his palm ran up and down on your back. You brushed at the white fleece with your finger, a light coo slipping past your lips at how soft it was. It was a wonder how just a few inches down and the fur would blend in with the unbending steel of his sickle.

“You know,” you said, still relishing in the feeling of his fur brushing past your finger tip, “sometimes I’m really glad that you tried to attack me that day.”

He huffed, “You mean you’re glad I didn’t actually do it?”

“Well,” you looked up, smiling a little as you stared into his inky eyes, “you would not be here if you didn’t stalk me weeks after that because you let me went away.”

“I did not stalk you.”

“Yes you did!” you laughed when he rolled his eyes. You paused, letting out a short hum before leaning your jaw on his chest again.

“I’m happy you did though.”

He looked down at your murmur, and closed his eyes as he took in your scent with his face buried into your hair.

Sakusa Kiyoomi came into your life as a strange, sudden whirlwind and in a stunning twist of events against his very nature, he stayed.

And he was very happy he did that too.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagine #sakusa imagines #sakusa smut #kinktober 2020

[theowlhouseheadcanons]

@your last post (i think), why specifically do you think that hootie is a creation of eda? personally i just headcanon him as being a housedemon that eda kinda took habitant in while he was just forming/coming to be to shape him partially into what he is today

The first season of The Owl House opted to give us little to no idea about Hooty´s origin story, but in my particular view, he was made by Eda - not entirely, but at least part of him - which is what led me to address him as part of Eda´s creations;

My main reasons to believe it are based on the fact that Hooty presents himself with the features of an owl, being in charge (or part of) a house that is literally called The Owl House, where a cursed witch, called The Owl Lady, lives and has a bird palysman called Owlbert; As we´ve seen through the season, this nocturne bird is Eda´s magic signature - she even summons giant “Hooty shaped” heads during duels! And, with all that information (and other related details they imply) I refuse to believe they're just a mere coincidence when it comes to Hooty´s creation;

Once again, I do not believe that Eda was the one who invented Hooty from scratch - or the house itself ~lol imagine if Eda has a little of the Construction track in herself~ - but she did have a major hand in defining what he has come to be.

Your HC helped me further look in that matter, allowing me to come up with this “theory” (I hope you don´t mind :)) that, in one particular day and for whatever reason, Eda ends up stumbling upon the The Owl House, founding it abandoned, falling apart-ish, and filled with this twisted aurea, as something angry and dark were hidden in there.

She finds herself paying several visits to the lot, hovering with the curiosity of a mystery hunter and the interest of a realtor - at the time, she was already old enough to be financially independent and intellectually fed up with her actual household´s pressions ~and their disapproval of her criminal activities~ so a fresh start at a more private part of the Island was quite temptive;

Eda finds out that the wrong feeling she was getting from the old building was due to this ancient demon spirit that inhabited the place - it worked as a conscience for the house, and his negative emotions (translated into a melancholic behavior) was due to the departure of their previous master, which left them broken, as the demon lost its only purpose and was left to rot in the forest - who knows for how long they have been living under those unfortunate conditions? ~ah yeah the angst~

The Owl Lady then saw an opportunity, and she took it. Of course, I imagine it wasn't as easy as just telling this ancient, lugubrious being that you´ll adopt them and the day would be saved - No, even if Eda had little interest for the house´s previous occupants, she could sense the place was designed to allow only the minimally dignified ones to live in. And that demon was the judger;

So after performing whatever trials or/and solving riddles (or just cheating in Eda style) necessary to gain the demon´s loyalty (and the house´s property), Eda made her first significative change to the place: she reshaped her new guardian to fit with her “aesthetics”, and that, plus the relieving feeling of finally finding a suitable master once again resulted in Hooty´s odd - but delighted - personality;

[I also wonder if this is somewhat a bad joke for Eda, to place this powerful spiritual being into a sympathetic owl tube vessel, or an attempt to make him sees less threatening in a daily basis (which also can be part of this comical factor, as Lilith must have been so pissed to be defeated over and over again by an annoying door peephole)]

Plus, Hooty had proved quite independent, as Eda had to develop several strategies to avoid some of his “quirks”, which infers she doesn't have enough control over him to simply give him an order to stop - or in parallel, she feels enough compassion for Hooty to see him more as a friend than a servant, so she rather deal with his ways than to impose her authority - as we know, Eda is not really a fan of hierarchical systems, and if his backstory is as sad as I speculated, her empathy grows even more, as the trauma of isolation is something they have in common ;

With all that in mind, we conclude that Hooty is his own being, but is under the magical influence of Eda due to a deal or anything of similar nature (and he seems pretty satisfied with this!). So, in defense of my last post, since Hooty has been affected by the Owl Lady´s magic to the level of redesign, he shares the same “essence” as Eda other creations. But just like him, Owlbert is also sentient, and although it is obvious that both operate in different ranges of independence, they are still connected to each other by this common “core”.

What other theories do you guys have about Hooty dark origin?

#I got excited #again #but hooty is one of the most intriguing characters #toh #toh asks #the owl house #toh theories #toh hooty #the owl house headcanons

[willgrahymn]

Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it. 

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

#Sanders Sides #Prinxiety #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #prinxiety fic #your validation. hand it over SDLCVFH #ugh bye im gonna cry about this #Virgil's Volumes

[alwaysthinkingoutloud]

Hannibal Episode-by-Episode Meta/Analysis: Episode 1, Season 1 (Apéritif)

The series start with Will Graham in a crime scene doing what he does, which is resurrecting crime scenes for further evidence and possible insight into the criminal’s mind and motives. What is interesting about this first scene is that for a first-time viewer, for the first a few minutes, it is not clear if what we are watching is a possible reenactment or it is actually a memory. That doubt gets cleared in a minute but until then, we don’t know if he is imagining or is he remembering. Is he a guy with a powerful imagination helping FBI who literally puts himself into the killer’s shoes or is he the killer itself, hiding in plain sight? To my thinking, the very first opening to the story does say a lot about the end of it all as well.

“This is my design”

Why not say plan, but design instead? Planning is something mechanical, strategical. It is the result of motive and effort of a rational brain rather than an acted-on urge. There is no much room for subjectivity or creativity since efficiency is the ultimate goal. However, design has a more artistical ring to it. It is like, its prior aim is not to be useful, but to be beautiful. Designing is done when aesthetics is of concern. We would say, Michelangelo designed David, plan would not look right there. It would be accurate as for explaining the mathematical part of it, the disciplined and patient hours that has been put into it, but it would not do justice to the inspiration, passion, and desperate need of the artist for his creation to materialize. A planner would not adore his work, but a designer would. And Will understands the difference a bit too well.

Later, talking with Jack Crawford, we learn that Will finds the name of Evil Minds Research Museum “hammy”. I do not think there is anything hammy about the name, it’s quite literal. It is not an ennobler name but why does Will find it so though? Does creativity and originality need to be perceived as abhorrent just because it was given birth by someone evil? This all-cautious way of approaching and overthinking things is a reflection of something dark within. Afterall, what is seen has at least a little to do with the seeing eyes, if not more.

Jack exhibits a disturbingly dominant way of communication with Will. He corrects Will’s eyeglasses, the guy who he knows is not comfortable with any kind of interpersonal interaction, within the minutes of their chat and holds down his bag to slow down his moving on. He is trying to make sure that Will feels Jack is the alpha and also that deep down, Will does not have the option to not cooperate. And more Will gets convinced to help for one step, stronger Jack drags Will into it for one more.

The first time we see Will interacting with any victim-related people, it is confusing. Being an empath and claiming that he can not only relate to narcissists and sociopaths but anyone, he does not seem to empathize much with the victim’s parents, cutting into the conversation about parents’ doubts on their daughter’s likelihood of being alive with a non-emotional, case related question. It almost makes you question if his ability to emphathize is just stronger with the dark side of the force than it is with the light one. Yes, the primer focus is to catch the killer and stop whatever malice is going on but after all, Jack came to Will with the need of help, so Jack must care about the case resolving more than he does. Yet, Jack seems more understanding of the parents’ feelings than Will, although Will is an ultimate empath. We even see Jack’s disapproval when Will cuts into the conversation. It is a brow mover.

Next, we get more insight about Will as he meets Winston. He finds him on the road roaming, tries to get close to him but cannot, so he drives all the way to his home to get something to lure him with and comes back to the dog. He is willing to go lengths to add a new dog to his pack, to his ‘family’, to his ‘social circle’. Something he is not willing nor comfortable to do for a person. Will's preferring an animal's company to a person's may say more than obvious. Afterall, he chooses Hannibal over Jack too, doesn't he?

Will who has already started to get traumatized by the case, is ambushed in the bathroom by Jack with an unforgiving mobbing, forcing ideas out of Will and stirring him up in the expense of his stability. Later on in his little chat with Alana, Jack’s intentions and priorities are further put into perspective. The way he talks about Will shows that for him, Will is more of a means to an end than an actual colleague. His insistence about “putting Will out there” despite Alana’s warnings and his admission of not being absolutely capable of protecting Will’s mental health just crowns that he does not genuinely care about Will. In fact, he even knows the risk of what he is doing, and he is trying to draw Dr. Bloom in to share, if not all together blame it on, the responsibility if something may go wrong.

We finally meet Hannibal in his office in a therapy session with his patient. The look Dr. Lecter throws when Franklyn blows his nose and places the dirty napkin onto the table… Up to this scene, we were not given any clue to suggest that Hannibal Lecter is a killer but after all, we do know who he is. And him being the first actual predator in the series we meet, we do not see him acting on brute violence or inelegant butchering. His first reaction depicted is unrest against rudeness. So the audience is welcomed into the mind of Lecter with an easily apprehensible act that can be shared by almost anyone. Almost to suggest that, this act of Franklyn’s may be enough to justify a wrath that may come upon him.

Jack shows up in Hannibal’s office unannounced and mistakes Franklyn with Hannibal. Hannibal, of course slightly annoyed, tells Jack to wait in the waiting room and invites him in with his own timing. Being a bossy and dominant guy he is, this takes Jack by surprise and it also tells us that there is an even stronger alpha here. So Jack realizes he cannot dominate Hannibal into his will like he did with Will. He may have to try something else. As Jack asks questions that are getting more specific and personal as they come, we see Hannibal getting cautious. Taking his scalpel into his hand and eyes widening. He lowers his guard only when he learns that he was referred to Jack by Dr. Bloom, his eyes visibly getting smaller, which are almost the only window to his thoughts anyway. So after seeing the sophisticated aura leaking not only out of Hannibal but everything around him, Jack chooses to sweet talk him into cooperation.

When Jack, Hannibal and Will first come together in a room, it is the first time in the show where Will makes such a long, non-blinked eye contact with someone, that being Hannibal. And we see mixed emotions and thoughts on Hannibal’s face. He is amused, intrigued and curious at the same time with the way Will thinks. He makes a quick analyze of Will which results in making him fling out of the room. Being the controlled, non-impulsive, strategic guy he is; even Hannibal himself is a little surprised with the sudden blurbing of his perception of Will. So maybe this first scene having Will and Hannibal together is another kind of first as well with both men doing something not typically them.

Hannibal, telling Jack that “he may help Will see the cannibal’s face”, he copies the crime of Minnesota Shrike. At the first look, this looks like an attempt of toying with the FBI and confusing them. But considering Hannibal’s last conversation with Jack, this feels more like a tribute, a helping hand for Will. Hannibal knows that Will would know that this is not the same killer the second he sees the crime scene. As Will later says to Hannibal, this was done to show Will a negative so that he could see the positive. So, we see from this point on that Hannibal’s wit does not focus on FBI, it does on Will. We see Hannibal eating and smiling, joyous of the fact that he now has an object of interest. Will imagining of a stag right after this, as stag will be the subconscious symbol of the Chesapeake Ripper / Copycat Killer before Will knows who he is and later when he does, of Hannibal; it shows that Hannibal literally entered his life and mind in more than one way.

Hannibal shows up in Will’s house very early and obviously very impatiently. So he does not only plan to interfere Will with being the Copycat Killer but through his ‘person suit’ as well. Feeding Will the meat of the girl he killed is also exciting for Hannibal as this manipulation game he has set to play with Will gets to be sicker for a normal human perception.

The breakfast scene is also the first time where Hannibal is looking for some ill-intent or killing inclination in Will, while Will denies having so. He wonders how much being able to empathize with killers say about Will’s own potential to do so. Hannibal suggests that Jack is treating Will as he is “a fragile little teacup, only used for special guests”. And that he himself sees him as “a mongoose that he would want under the house when snakes slither by”. He suggests that Will is not a pray that should be afraid to get hurt, that he is the predator. By that Hannibal does not only encourage the destructiveness Will may be trying hard to keep buried to come alive, but also the false perception that Will’s mind is strong enough to take any challenge Jack may throw his way.

Hannibal warning Garret Jacob Hobbs is literally setting the pieces in position of his will to get Will where and how he wants. He does not know what will be waiting in Hobbs’ house for Will but in the end, it does not matter so much since he just wants to see what happens.

When they arrive at the house, seeing Hobbs leaving his wife on the threshold her throat cut, Hannibal stands still. Is it because he is so confident that Will will be too frantic to ever look back and notice that, or is it because deep down he just does not feel like putting his person suit on in front of Will? I think both. When Will shots Hobbs and tries to tend Abigail on the floor, Hannibal walks in and sees Will caring hard for the girl. Hannibal’s face looks curious about what is going on but more than that, again, his focus is on Will more than it is on anything else. He sees all these humane emotions that Hannibal himself has always been somewhat stranger too on Will, those emotions that he thought, cannot come in a package with all the destructive ones. But maybe they can. And those emotions may even look nice. Because it almost does on Will. Although how the events would turn out Hannibal did not know, it was certain that the way he pushed things, there would be blood and there would be Will doing something that will change him one way or the other. After all, they have undergone a traumatic (for Will) and exciting (for Hannibal) circumstance together and it is a known fact that people who experience a significant situation together tend to develop emotional bonds. Maybe this was the least of what Hannibal hoped for. If that was the case, he got more than he wished. Will got to kill someone even if it was for a just reason and there happened to be an orphaned girl that Will desperately bonded the moment he killed her father, who maybe a manipulative tool for Hannibal in his game. The last scene where Will finds Hannibal holding Abigail’s hand in the hospital room highlights this perfectly. Now, Hannibal and Will has a mutual asset that Hannibal may use to draw Will closer to himself despite of Will’s initial reservations to do so.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #will #will graham #hannigram #brian fuller #nbc hannibal #hannibal meta #hannibal analysis #hannibal and will #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #murder husbands #will and hannibal #jack crawford #hannibal loves will #will loves hannibal #aperitif

[doberbutts]

Sorry is this is stupid or sounds inflammatory, I don't know enough about dobermans to know why a cross with great dane is bad? Is it an unsuitable outcross for health or temperament?

I didn't say anything about it being bad? In fact, I've been in pretty in-depth conversations with @quick-step about these puppies for more than a year?

Personally I am uninterested in these puppies for myself for a multitude of reasons including that the inn is full at the moment with four dogs, and that if I get a doberman I expect bitey and these are more geared for service dog work which I... already have my prospect so why would I add another... But I don't know where the idea that I disapprove is coming from.

If you're talking about previous posts on the subject- no, I don't personally think dane is the right choice for whatever combo of breeds we'd need to effectively recreate the dobe, as the breed temperament is well out of what a doberman should be, and the risk of introducing a variety of other health concerns is not small. However, again, these are intended to be service dog puppies, which is also not exactly what a doberman should be, so I have about the same feeling about these puppies as I do with the two organizations that use purebred dobes for guide dogs. 🤷‍♂️ They bred two service dogs together in the hope of making more, I'm not gunna be mad about that.

On the flip side, I've praised the corso outcross because the F3s and F4s are fairly recognizably dobermans (for the most part, of course some physical corso traits appear) while not being a huge fan of the ethics of some of those involved- again, I love dobes and can recognize that there's shitty people in my own dog's history, they were literally Nazi dogs it's unavoidable. While I think the corso may add too much sharpness and defense in a breed already known for sharpness and defense, crossing to a more easy-going, laidback dog afterwards is not a bad way to balance that out.

My dissatisfaction with the majority of outcrosses is that it seems to be unfocused, looking to throw darts at a board and see what sticks without truly thinking about what traits you're working with, saying 'a doberman is a doberman and a bulldog is a bulldog' and really not examining further- such is the case, for instance, with the popular dobe/mal cross where two relatively lackluster dogs were bred with the hopes of making really nice working dogs only to discover relatively lackluster puppies. A shame when I have seen plenty of dobe/mal crosses in ring and knpv and psa doing wonderfully- it's not that it's not possible, it's that the individual breeding did not breed the right dogs for the job. Taking a dog off craigslist and expecting it to produce well just because it's xyz breed does not work in anyone's favors whether you're crossing or pure breeding.

Those that I am personally pretty happy to see in DO have a focus, but several of them are not interested in producing *dobermans*. They are interested in *certain doberman traits* that they mix into their dogs. Dogs like donovan pinschers, some of these dobe/hound/lurchers, the previously referenced dobe crosses in bitework, service dogs using the dobe's work ethic and velcro nature. These are intended to either stay mixed breeds or create new breeds, not to recreate and work with existing dobermans, and so often they are not quite the right temperament or aesthetic I would say most dobe people are interested in.

None of this is news to anyone who's talked to me on the matter btw- I am still in these outcross groups and am even willing to have Creed collected and used if he makes it to 10 and it looks like there's a project I actually want to support, but right now I have not seen one I would personally give his semen for nor would buy a puppy from, based on my own knowledge of my dog and my personal priorities.

#personally I wouldn't use his semen to create more service dogs tbh #even though he is one! #I think the majority of people would struggle with that #but a good bitework dog or a fun protection dog #I think paired with the right bitch that would be a nice breeding #with his family history as well I'd also not want to breed him to ANYTHING even touching heart problems #both of his parents #multiple siblings #if there's heart problems AT ALL in the line or breeds involved I'd steer clear #his mom and his full brother died from dcm in the same week #I'm not risking that

[sanstropfremir]

it’s the episode 8 review!!! how many episodes is this show supposed to even be?

the stages from the episode feel like such a grab bag.... i still don’t understand why they didn’t put all the skill stages together, and then did the normal two episodes of the third round. i guess it makes sense that they didn’t want to have six stages in one episode and then three in the other two, but eh. 

feeling kinda average on these as a whole, there’s a lot of good elements going on here but probably because of my own preferences (i don’t listen to ballads or blackpink) none of them really hit all the buttons. hopefully this will be a shorter review because i'm only going to do a quick rundown of the vocal stages; i dont really have that much to say about them because they are (intentionally) not very stage picture focused. i'll do the normal stage breakdowns for the other two though, even though i won’t rank them because we still need to see the other four!

vocal stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

not much to say here other than wow, that’s RED. glad to see some more specific use of spotlighting and i always love when they light things on fire. i do wish they had fill lit with a brighter amber so we could actually get a bit more detail on their faces, especially because there’s six of them. i appreciated the simple blocking and only using one of the ‘stages,’ this stage didn’t need to be anything complicated and it wasn’t. i don’t love spinning camera shots because they make me a bit ill, and i'll forgive the constant cutting because it's a vocal stage and there isn’t any other real movement that we should be paying attention to. not my favourite of the two, i found it visually a bit too repetitive and complex at the same time. always love a crushed velvet suit though, so bonus points for that.

atz + skz + btob

i was braced for the worst and i dont know what kind of miracle happened but it was listenable! like i said, not a ballad fan but i could listen to eunkwang all day. i love a good plinth for a ballad stage, they’re one of my favourite devices in kpop design and i especially love it with a good groundlevel fog. glad they kept it black and white for the first half of the stage, it was in line with the blooming flower projections, and it made a very clear colour arc. they kept the visuals clean and simple with very little blocking at all, a very smart choice for this stage. not sure why they decided it would be the chanel time stage, which i disapprove of because i don’t like chanel, but i do love eunkwang’s shirt with the cameo buttons and the massive turnback cuffs, very 17th and also 19th century. i know they never do it because they dont read on stage normally but yes absolutely more thin chain pendant chokers on men, thank you! i also liked that there was emphasis on a more traditional lighting scheme, there weren't any crazy concert effects, just some good directional beam spotlights and the rear stacks in the climax. 

third round stages

ikon

costume

the first look for them is definitely my fabourite of theirs so far. there’s enough variation in the jackets that the base layer of tshirt and jeans don’t look too repetitive. and i do love a good statement jacket. my favourite is probably donghyuk’s because i'm a sucker for fringe always.

i don’t like the backup dancers costumes, but given the way i’ve reacted to every other all black outfit for this entire show i don’t think anyone was surprised about that. these ones particularly irk me because they’re very matte; there's pretty much no texture or pattern differentials to define the shape of the limb, which makes them disappear when theyre all grouped together (mostly on the women). i think they probably were intending to make a statement/emphasis on the hands because of the sleeve cutoff point, but there were so many arm movements that were just totally missed because the costumes were just black voids. most egregious parts are here, with the female dancers up center. i can barely tell what the movements are unless i’m paying specific attention to them because there's so many black shapes. maybe it was the point for it to be an indiscernable writhing mass, but it wasn’t my vibe.

don’t love this styling on lisa. i hate peeptoe shoes in general but peeptoe boots are the worst offenders. they make you look like you have duck feet, no matter who you are. especially with a flat cutout like that. a universally unflattering shoe, and i would know, i worked in a shoe store for two years. this whole look is just pg-13 rihanna cfda awards 2014 and really nobody should try to run up against rihanna.

also i have to mention this because it’s actually really bothering me, but lisa’s backup dancers are serving very allgemeine ss looks and i do not like it. generally when we see ‘military’ uniforms in kpop theyre usually modelled off older styles (pre wwii) of western uniforms that usually aren’t in circulation, and they’re usually non-matching and embellished in ways that are deliberately not military. i know logically that it's a budget constraint+they’re backup dancers+current trend thing but the clean lines with only button detailing and the all black and that specific harness shape? it hit my brain the wrong way. i mean, technically those uniforms are designer because hugo boss did them, but the uh..... girlboss move didn’t land for me.

this is my PERSONAL OPINION please for the love of all that is holy do not come yelling at me about this. it’s all under a cut, you chose to read the post.

set

very glad to see some busy kitschy sets! this is a massive build, since there’s essentially three full sets here: the temple, the jungle, and the first tiny room. and all of them are very heavily decorated. 

the starting room is just five walls on casters (wheels), that have been set into place with the cameraman and ikon inside at the start, and then once they exit the walls can be easily struck and rolled off set. simple, smart, and convenient!

i missed it the first couple times around but glitching out the projections in the temple for a split second was a neat little trick.

the silver and polygonal nature of the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a bit disconnected from the gold and the aesthetic of the rest of the stage for me. the difference between the original room set and the jungle tracks, but the cat head isnt able to make the same leap for me. i'm also not a fan of mixing metals so maybe that’s why.

the tiger/panther/cat(?) head is a fun physical transitional device; i'm a big fan of tunnels and small transitory spaces like that and if they’re well dressed like this one they do so much for establishing place and mood.

i'm very sure i’ve seen this style of polygonal animal head with laser eyes before....i cannot for the life of me remember where or for what. i know wang yibo did a panther stage for sdc3 that had a human formation panther with green laser eyes, i wonder if i'm just crossing wires.

OH nevermind it’s because it looks like the witcher medallion. wires were definitely crossed.

lighting

using purple/teal lighting for the jungle was a smart choice because purple is the direct compliment to the gold and also is much more flattering on humans than green. green is one of the colours that humans can see the most variations in, so when something is green when it's not supposed to be (like human skin), we register that very quickly and associate it with unease and sickness. you know how old fluorescent lights have that greenish tinge that kinda makes you feel ill? it's your cone cells and your brain recognizing that you’re looking at things that are not supposed to be green.

very clean colour arc, i love to see it.

sound

it’s.....fine? i don’t listen to blackpink and have no opinions on their music other than it's not my type. i dont really know what the thematic connection to the visuals is, which is not strictly necessary in a lot of cases, but i don’t particularly care for the conflation of ‘savage’ and a (presumably) precolonial religion that’s assembled from stereotypes of real colonized cultures. you can come at me about how ‘it's not that deep’ all you want but i am here specifically doing an in depth analysis, and i gotta point it out. i'm not here to pass judgement on you if you didn’t realize or don’t care or whatever, i'm just saying that it's important to consume content with a critical eye. what you do with that information is your own personal choice, but you should be aware of it at least. 

staging

they took a big risk eating popcorn right before singing, and we definitely got some residual mouth noises of them trying to clean out their teeth. eating on stage is difficult in general because you have to make sure it's not going to dry out the performers mouths, because they dont have access to water and it takes WAY longer to chew and swallow something than you would expect. there’s a LOT of testing that goes into making stage food and guaranteed it’s not made out of what it looks like or what its supposed to be; i worked on a production of amadeus were we did literal weeks of testing amalgams of different desserts to make sure that salieri could actually eat the ones onstage without totally drying him out, because fun fact about that show, salieri doesnt leave stage like, at all, so there was no way to get him water. poor bloke.

i thought the blocking of this was really smart. the long take from the ‘normal’ room and transition into the jungle was super slick, even if that weird circle the camera did while pointed up at the ceiling was unnecessary and pointless.

bobby’s ‘acting’ was extremely funny and that’s the only way people are allowed to act surprised now. edvard munsch scream style only.

the pacing is a bit off and this time it wasn’t mnet’s editing that fucked it up. as fun as it is to have a feature, clearly she wasn’t allowed within proximity of the rest of them for covid or other yg related reasons, but it made for some extremely long transitions, especially the one out of her verse. it kills the momentum of the stage in that beat, even though they manage to pick it up after.

this is a very simple little narrative arc that’s easy to follow and doesn’t require any extra explaining. which is exactly the kind of arc that groups should be doing at this stage in the game. this is a good formic step up for ikon!

i thought the turning off of the monitor at the end was fun and a good callback to them watching the videos at the beginning of the stage. a nice clean way to make it circular.

skz

costume

FINALLY something different on the skz boys! these were mostly fun eboy looks for them, and i like it on the basis that it's not the same as the last set of costumes.

bang chan out there with his thigh OUT and a (fake) bridge piercing? LOVE to see it. great work.

(copy-paste every thing i’ve said about backup dancers wearing all black)

the backup dancers that were dressed as bystanders/extras were great! they should have kept that with all of them because it would have given a little more shape to the choreography and establishing what function the backup dancers were supposed to have.

set

that is meant to be a giant rice cooker on stage, right? i think so because it's a god’s menu mashup? if that's not a rice cooker i have NO idea what its supposed to be

there’s only two large setpieces here, which was a smart way to go. i LOVE the subway car doubling as the truck, even if the truck itself makes no narrative sense. what a fun way to double the use of a single big piece. you’ll be able to see the way it moves in the full cam but it splits down the centre and there entrance doors at the back with attached stairs that bang chan and the dancers use to climb up.

lighting

not a whole lot happening here. i like the cool white leds in the subway car and the contrast with the more warm tones of the outside, which is good atmospheric establishment, but i can't discern a visible arc. 

not a fan of these projections; they’re in line with what we’ve seen from skz so far, which is: extremely literal. i dont think they’re that distracting, but they’re not to my personal taste. they really should have kept the comic panel theme that they did for changbin’s first verse, because that was inventive and fun to watch! and a great atmospheric indicator! i would love to see a bit more experimental projection use but it's hard when they don’t have a lot of time to build these stages and the lighting team is definitely working remotely.

sound

i love that they made the choice to do some actual talking, it’s a good gimmick and it works for the deadpool/comic book/fourth wall break theme, but australian accents take me the fuck out i am so sorry i cannot listen to either felix or bang chan speak english without laughing uncontrollably. 

i don’t like this arrangement but i'm not surprised about that, given my predilections. i'm also tired of skz shouting STRAY KIDS in every performance they do. i know on music shows it's probably more relevant and yea producers tags are a thing but we’ve been watching this show for nearly two months at this point. we know who you are, you can stop yelling. be more creative with it!

staging

my biggest issue with this stage is that it doesn’t have a payoff. there is an arc here: they’re stealing the truck, but why are they stealing the truck? who are they stealing it from? who are they fighting against? it's kind of important in a stage where the theme is stealing and fighting someone that you tell us who that is. in both of ateez’s previous stages were they were both stealing (rhythm ta) and fighting (wonderland), they made sure to show us who the villain was. there needs to be tension for a big blowup climax to actually pay off. whether it be against a a balloon arm kraken or a fascist government. this stage could have reached that next step if they’d just done a little bit more exposition. 

there were a lot of fun choreo moments here, and this is probably my favourite choreo of theirs so far. i thought the whole first bit in the subway car was excellent and a very fun play on those viral videos that we used to see roll around every so often of dancers doing routines in subway cars.

did it need the guns? not in the slightest. more on this point later. i could talk more about weapons and weight here, but i’ve done that several times already.

like with the tbz game of thrones stages, theyre relying a little too much on the audience's preconceptions of the source material in order to carry the theme. the guns are there because deadpool likes guns, but they don’t actually use the guns for anything? the most we get of the stealing segment is felix and the safe, which admittedly is a great bit with him leaping over and under the ‘laser’ lines (theyre likely led strips). because comic books are by nature procedural and deeply tied to narrative, it's unsatisfying when there’s no tension and no payoff.

HOW did we manage to get two stages that are blackpink covers with remote/tv static gimmick and durags? i know the slot machine of kpop tropes is not very big but surely the probability of hitting triple sevens on this one was pretty low. i’m pretty meh on both of these stages overall. skz was unsatisfying but i loved the choreo in the subway bit so that bumped it up a little ahead of ikon’s in my personal preferences, but i'm reserving my actual rankings for next week. assuming we get the other four stages next week and they dont do something stupid and only show two. which they very well might. i’ve stopped trying to understand why mnet does things the way that they do. 

as always the ask box is open, drop your comments/questions/personal opinions, i love to hear ‘em! but don’t be rude just because some of this is touchier subject material.

#kingdom #ateez #btob #ikon #sf9 #the boyz #stray kids #military uniforms are a weird one and i always find it a bit....(squiggly face emoji) when they get used in kpop stages #everybody is one of the exceptions because its used as a direct critique #but this is a very personal opinion as someone who has done a lot of historical research on military uniforms in particular #so im hyperaware of that kind of thing #be cool about this one people please and thank you! #im so glad this came in under 3k #kingdom review #kpop analysis #text #ive had to write a lot of deeply critical art practice analysis in the last week and i would like to sleep

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 1: 3x06 Spectre of the Gun

Okay so, it might be a little early to declare myself a S3 apologist, since there are still a lot of eps I’ve never seen, but I feel like I’m pretty close..

This ep was so good!! Honestly I think it’s one of my faves. And perfect to usher in Spooky Season.

Honestly, this show really is my happy place. Just all the characters together on the bridge, on some kinda adventure, looking at weird space buoys and investigating stuff.

Again, this buoy looks like a Windows 98 screensaver.

Kirk keeps referring to Spock as “Science Officer.” Is he mad at him? Full of some particularly intense longing that requires him to put extra distance between them?

Excuse me, you address US as aliens? YOU’RE the aliens.

Hmmm, so it seems they’re not friendly.

It’s addressing them in different languages!!! I love it. Love the reminder that Uhura’s first language is not English,also.

“True telepaths are dangerous.” As opposed to fake telepaths like Vulcans lol?

The Melkotians withdrew immediately. They invented space travel, they saw space, and they said “not for us” and they turned around and left. McCoy would like them; they’d have a lot to gripe about together.

The welcome mat is NOT out.

“Unlike Mr. Scott’s transporter, this unit is not functioning.”

It legit looked like Spock put his hand on Kirk’s back there. Like he clearly raises it, but not far enough to be seen above Kirk, so like.. what was the point? Where did it go?

LEE CRONIN--oh no, flashbacks lol.

“We come in peace”--immediately pulls out gun.

I should have watched this when writing my Western fic.

Just bits and pieces of a Western town... and a completely red sky...

The guns are “crude but dangerous.” If only Sulu were here; he’d love this.

An announcement with a specific time and place on it--that’s a very precise detail to just pull from their minds. Must have come from Kirk’s, that nerd. Maybe Spock. But probably Kirk.

“Because my ancestors pioneered the American frontier.” I mean did they really get to the frontier? Or just... the Midwest?

Maybe it’s actually because he’s a cowboy at heart?

Aliens using his own ancestral sins as the pattern for his own death for breaking their law IS a great (possibly partially unintended) idea. Oh also, if they think that Kirk and co. are here to ‘tame’ or colonize them, then the Western setting makes even more sense--you’re no different from your ancestors, you came somewhere new and brought lawlessness and violence and death, but not this time!

Can you believe Kirk knows all of these details about the OK Corral? NERD.

Spock is so proud of himself for knowing the phrase “had it out.” Look, I used slang correctly!

These are some creative aliens.

“We know death is real here.” Or is it? They’re literally telepaths guys.

Hmmm, this building doesn’t need a roof I think. - The aliens probably

Can’t believe Scotty thinks his usual is his actual usual lol. You’re going to drink bourbon and like it!

Kirk and Spock look so good together.

They’re obviously Chekov’s disapproving parents.

“The day is still young, Ensign.” I don’t remember the exact context of this but Spock is SO judgmental.

What is Kirk doing? This guy is a hallucination; he won’t be convinced by touching some cloth. There’s nothing to convince! He’s only a Concept.

“Have you seen clothes like this?” / “Yes.” / “Where?” / “On the Claytons!” Comedy gold.

Kirk really thinks he can charm his way out of anything. Hmmm, maybe if I just talk nicely to the Earps, they won’t kill us.

“In small amounts, it [bourbon] was considered medicinal.” Lol.

Scotty is becoming a bourbon guy!

“Mr. Chekov is inVOLVed” lol. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

“A lot of people and things have tried to kill me.” No need to brag.

THAT’S how you make a city limits sign. Put a dead animal skull on top. I live quite close to a city limits sign and I think it could use a cow skull.

Western Cossacks!!

Poisonous snakes and cactus plants. That really distills the Aesthetic down to its core.

This is a good Kirk episode. He’s really being a good Captain: coming up with different ideas, being creative, pushing his crew to brainstorm.

Bones and his tranqs again.

Bones meets his old nemesis: Old Timey Medicine.

Why was Doc Holiday just...chilling in his own dentist chair? (My mom suggested: power nap. Let’s go with that. Power nap + ability for optimally dramatic entrance.)

Also I can’t believe McCoy just goes into this guy’s practice and starts helping himself to all the serious drugs.

Chekov definitely isn’t the marrying kind.

RIP Chekov.

Bones does not sound very sympathetic here. Jim, get over it, he just died, whatever.

And then two seconds later he turns around and tells Spock he’s not sad enough! You can’t win.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the service.”

“My feelings are not a subject for discussion.” !!!!!!! This line!!

“You worked closely with him.” Yes! Chekov is his protege!

“Bones, Scotty, stop bullying Spock.” <-- not an actual quote but it might as well be.

If this were AOS, Spock would already be choking Bones out.

Whoops, no one told Chekov he wasn’t supposed to die!

“Let’s organize! Let’s form an anti-Earp union!”

“I can’t kill them!” he says in a mad rage.

I mean, it is important, though. That’s not what he does.

Kirk is /disgusted/ by lawlessness and frontier justice. What a Rebel TM.

I feel like Bones was waiting for the gotcha moment when Spock compliments him. “Saying nice things about me? That’s not how this relationship works!”

“Nothing can go wrong.” / “Up to now, everything has gone wrong.” He has a point.

That pause before Spock admitted it hasn’t been tested lol--they don’t want to admit it.

“[The bourbon’s] for the pain.” / “But this is painless.” / “You should have told me that before.” The unexpected comedy stylings of Scotty and Spock.

It doesn’t work--guess Spock’s got to take back that compliment now.

“Captain, you don’t understand--they’ve been telepaths the whole time which we already knew!”

“We’re not going to move from the spot.” * is immediately in a different spot * Well I mean at least he’s trying. He’s doing his best!

Love the OK Corral sign also. Weirdly creepy. With its accompanying horse.

Spock doesn’t have any hips for the holster to rest on.

“What did Chekov die of?” / “A piece of lead in his body.” That would do it.

If the tranquilizer should have been effective, does that mean Scotty is actually passed out right now?

Honestly, this is all so spooky. TRUE Western Horror Ghost Vibes.

Also very trippy. If you don’t believe it... it’s not real... some kinda weird chicken and the egg argument regarding our belief in the truth of physical laws idk but it sounds good. Spock brings it home.

Even with the wind whipping around him, Kirk is SO in love. His absolutely adoring expression... So soft...

“Very well, Sir, I’ll meld with you again. Not that I particularly want to. It will be a sacrifice. But I’ll manage. Even though you’re such a dynamic individual haha ha I’m fine I’m cool.”

I feel like Scotty is NOT into the mind meld. He looks terrified. Maybe he should have saved the bourbon for this occasion.

I know the mind meld is supposed to be a replacement for on screen hypnotism...but is this not hypnotism? Like even more than past uses? In this case, Spock is leaving them with suggestions that he wants to continue AFTER the meld, as opposed to, like, efficiently sharing information or giving immediate suggestions. And the scenes themselves are very creepy and...hypnotic.

Kirk’s patented move: WHOLE BODY ATTACK.

Well, we wrapped that up right quick.

Did they... never actually leave the bridge? Or even navigate past the buoy? This actually brings up a lot of questions as to when the aliens started the hallucinations, what their bodies looked like to the rest of the crew, and how they woke up--since there’s obviously been a bit of a time skip, as Bones is already examining Chekov.

Lol at Chekov, saved by horniness. “Nothing but the girl was real to him.”

“A vast alliance of fellow creatures who all believe in the same thing...”

Kirk’s vision of the utopian future is so powerful, he’s effectively gotten the welcome mat put back out.

A personal question? Kirk is intrigued.

Ah, but it’s just another excuse for Spock to be a hypocrite--how did humans survive? How did VULCANS survive? And for the show to remind us of its utopian vision of the future... we will move past violence, we will prove ourselves attractive to and worth of new alien friends.

Then McCoy walks out so Kirk and Spock can have their Moment. He undoubtedly knows what’s up.

So this ep was shown one day before the anniversary of the shootout at the OK Corral AND on Halloween week. It is very much a spooky season episode. So surreal and strange. Ghostly.

I know using sets rather than on location shoots, and not even building whole sets, was a budgetary issue but tbqh I think it worked in the ep’s favor. It added to the alien feeling of it and was an accidentally creative way of showing that these images were pulled from Kirk’s mind.

This felt like a very Classic S1-ish ep to me. I think it’s because Kirk was foregrounded as the Captain/hero and we get to see not just his intelligence and creativity and leadership but also his compassion and his moral core. He IS the values of the series, personified, and that was clear here.

But we also got to see lots of him and Spock, casually working as a pair, and the use of the rest of the landing party crew was very deft also. I loved that there was time to mock Chekov’s horniness, to talk about Spock and Chekov’s professional relationship, to joke around with Scotty, to show more of the Spock and Bones dynamic.

Again, great sci fi concept. I think this would have been another possible inspo for my Pirate AU if I’d seen it in time (although I think I picked a good mission-concept ultimately). I’m fascinated by the Melkotians: who are they? What do they really look like? Do they communicate any other way but telepathically? Are they corporeal? What is their planet like? And most importantly, what experience lead them to be so isolationist? They specifically refer to the aliens as “disease” coming into their home. And it’s when Kirk shows himself to be fundamentally nonviolent even in the face of his own death, they let the Enterprise through.

Basically, I always enjoy hints of alien societies that bring up more questions for me than answers. I love speculating about it.

The next two eps I’ve seen and remember well and I know they’re classics. I’m really looking forward to them!

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts #2021: star trek #star trek tos

[im-hqlover]

Arranged marriage/Royal AU - Chapter 3 - The next day.

A/n - And here's another chapter from one of the fanfics that I'm most loving to write, and I hope you are also enjoying it =) 

Enjoy!

(none of the images used on the aesthetic belong to me, credit to their creators) 

Warnings: arranged marriage, maybe some bad words, sex mentions, anguish, fight, war mentions, maybe discomfort?, cry (Idk if it is necessary, but I will put anyway), maybe english errors/mistakes. (I hope I haven't forgotten anything) 

important details to mention:

-This is kind of a Royal AU, but time kinda mixes with middle Ages and current time, so some technologies exist and others don’t, it’s kind of confusing, maybe, but I hope this isn’t a big problem.

-The reader is 20 years old, Jason is 22 y/o

-The reader is female.

Pairings: Jason Todd x reader

Y/n = your name

F/c = Favourite cake

F/fd = Favourite food 

Words count: 6013 

Previous chapters: Chapter one, Chapter Two, Chapter two's Alternative ending 

Next chapters: coming soon 

Tag list: @sarcasmismyfirstlove​​ 

Y/N's INFO:

Gender: Cis-Female

Sexuality: Straight

Height: Shorter than Jason

Weight: Not Defined 

Skin Color: Not Defined 

Hair Color: Not Defined 

Eyes Color: Not Defined

Other details? Y/n is myopic

(I hope I have put all the information, let me know if i forgot something) 

The sun's rays from a beautiful autumn day filled the bedroom, leaving it fully lit, everything was at peace, and I was still sleepy, so I just try to sleep again, but my sleeping plans went down the drain when a bird appears and decides to sing right on the windowsill, I take a deep breath placing the pillow in my face to drown out the sound of singing, but it was useless, did that damn bird follow me from my kingdom to here, only to disturb my sleep? 

I take a deep breath, giving up trying to sleep, I remove the pillow and look at the ceiling for a while, the moment I woke up I found that place strange, and I wondered where I was, until I remember the wedding and everything, and of course, remembering that didn't improve my day, in fact I seemed to have forgotten Jason's little gentle acts and only my anger remained, anger at my parents, anger at having married a stranger who killed people, anger at me. I was clearly not in a good mood, and I found it very difficult for that to change, although it could have been simply a dream, or rather a nightmare.  

When I looked to my side to see my husband, he wasn't there, and then it crossed my mind what did he think of me, was the anger reciprocal? I thought so. I got up from the bed and sat down, I looked at the clock there and realized it was almost 10:00 am, I wonder why I managed to sleep for so long and didn't wake up when Jason got up… in fact, I’m not surprised, I was dying of tiredness yesterday/today's dawn, so I think it’s natural that I’ve slept for so long. 

I go to the bathroom, wash my face, comb my hair that was a mess and do my other needs, when I left I thought about what I would do at that moment, until my belly growled and thought it would be better to find something to eat, but not before changing those clothes, I didn't really want people to see me like that, but there was a little problem, in fact two, I had no idea where my room was located neither the kitchen. 

I tried to remember the path that that sir had taken until we got here, but I couldn't remember, because at that moment I was so nervous about what was about to happen that I completely ignored how I got there. 

As I didn't want to be bothering other people and wanting to do things a little by myself, I decide that maybe by exploring the castle somehow I could find the kitchen or my room, but guess what?  I was wrong. I walked through so many corridors, but nothing there seemed to be near the kitchen or my room, that castle was a complete maze and I thought I would need a map to be able to locate myself there. And I take a deep breath when I arrive in a dead-end corridor, turn around and end up getting scared because not far behind me there was a boy with maybe 10 or so, he had black hair as dark as coal, there were emerald green eyes, and he had his arms crossed for me. 

- Huh, hi - I say awkwardly and soon I feel my face heat up when I realize that that boy was seeing me in those clothes. 

- Hello Sleeping Beauty, you look lost. - He said with a serious face, I vaguely remembered him as being one of Jason's younger brothers, but I couldn't remember his name... maybe it had D? I had no idea.

- Huh, well, I was exploring the castle to get to know a little. - I rub my hand on my arm nervously. 

- It seems to me that you are looking for something, not "exploring". 

- Huh... well, maybe... I was looking for the kitchen. - I look away from him and he ends up laughing. - What's it?

- You'll never get there like that, the kitchen is practically on the other side of the castle. 

- And… by any chance… did you take me there? - He sighs not seeming to want to do that much. 

- Just this once. - He says with a tone not too friendly to be honest, he turns and starts walking, and I follow him. 

He really wasn't kidding when he said the kitchen was on the other side of the castle, I don't know how long it took to get there, but I can say that it was a long way to go, as we get closer I can smell food in the air, maybe they were already preparing lunch, when we got the boy to stop and say. 

- Is here. - He spoke and started to leave before I could even thank him. 

- Thank you. - I thank him in the same way, but I didn't know if he heard me, I knock on the door and it doesn't take long for one of the tall and thin cooks, perhaps an apprentice for his age, would answer the door. 

- P-princess y/n - He bowed when he realized it was me who was at the door, I just give a small shyly nod in response.

- Huh, could I come in by any chance? I would like to eat something if it were possible. - He nodded quickly several times and allowed me to enter the kitchen. 

- W-what would yo-you like to eat your highness? 

- Please just call me y/n, huh, sorry, but what's your name?

- J-Jeremy.  

- Nice to meet you Jeremy. - I say to him smiling until an older woman, maybe 50 years old because of her gray hair, she approaches us with a wooden spoon and stares deathly at the youngest.

- What are you doing bothering the princess, Jeremy? And why is she here? - She said while pointing the wooden spoon at me. My impression is that the woman wasn't very friendly, especially when it came to strangers in her kitchen. The woman wearing chef's clothes looks at my clothes with a disapproving look. 

- Huh, it's just... I was hungry and I thought if I could get something to eat here, it doesn't have to be fancy or anything, I'm happy if I can just eat a piece of cake with coffee. - Her expression seemed to have softened slightly, but her face was still not very friendly. - If it doesn't ask for much, of course, otherwise I can wait until lunch is ready.

- Jeremy! Get what your highness wants, immediately! - The lady said while pointing the wooden spoon again at the boy who quickly nodded in agreement. 

- Y-yes, ma'am.

The lady soon asked if I would like to go to the royal dinner table, but I refused and said that I could eat right there if I didn't bother, she seems to have found this strange, but she didn't disagree and let me stay there, I soon found out that her name was Constance. 

It didn't take long for Jeremy to come back with a plate with f/c and a cup of coffee, Constance said that I could sit at the staff table so that I didn't have to eat standing up, I agreed and sat there. When I finished eating I thanked them both and went out to the kitchen, now the new challenge, find my room, but this time, not to waste time I asked one of the servants who passed me, and she said she unfortunately didn’t know but that I was supposed to wait there and she would call someone who knew, and in little time the same man who guided me to Jason's bedroom came and guided me to my room. 

- Huh, I don't want to disturb you, but could I know your name? - I say to break the silence while we walk. 

- Alfred Pennyworth, your highness. - He replied gently and calmly.

- Please, call me y/n. - He turned to me briefly with a questioning look.

- Why?

- I just prefer to be called by my name only. - I shrug. 

- I must excuse you princess, but I think that will be a difficult task for me, calling a noble without their title seems wrong to me. - Well, I kind of expected this, many said the same thing, and even if they didn’t say it out loud I had the feeling that they thought that, everyone was taught to refer to each other, mainly for nobles, as a form of respect, but I hated it, it was like people could be superior to each other just because of a damn title, and that's why I always say it's just to call me by my name, but I know that didn’t change things, since everyone always kept calling me princess or your highness, or something like that, but I don’t blame them. 

- It's okay, I understand. - I look at the corridors we were passing through, in many of them there were several pictures of different things, from important people to things like a landscape, in addition to the corridors having giant windows to which they had equally large curtains to which they were in a way so that the sun could enter and illuminate the place. I didn't even notice when we got to my room, and I could see that there was a movement there. 

- What is happening? - I tell Alfred who turns to me. 

- They are taking your belongings to Prince Jason's room, since you will share it from now on. - I smile a little sad, my plans to avoid my husband were going down the drain, because now I would literally have to share the same room with him. 

- Are you all right, your highness? - I look at Alfred and shake my head negatively. 

- N-no, everything is fine. - He didn't seem to believe my answer, but said nothing more. 

- I have other commitments at the moment your highness, so I have to leave you alone at the moment. - I nod and he makes a little bow.

- Thank you, Sir Alfred.

- You’re welcome, y/n. - I give him a small smile and he returns, and then leaves there.

I look at the servants there and tell them if they could wait a little while to take everything because I would like to change my clothes, they agree and leave me alone in the room. I look in the suitcases and choose torn jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt to dress, in addition to my underwear and sneakers of course, I take the clothes to the bathroom and a bath towel too, I take a long shower, after getting dressed I dry my hair with the towel and comb them, and decided that I wouldn't use the dryer and let the hair dry naturally. 

Upon leaving my room the servants were waiting in the corridor to be able to continue their work, for a moment they look at me but for some reason they start to look away, which intrigued me, but I try to ignore that fact. 

Walking down some corridors I reach the main stairway which I descend, reaching the great entrance hall. 

- Y/n! - I hear my mother's voice coming back from me, and then I turn to see her, my father, my brother and some other nobles that I recognized to be some of our allies. - I finally found you, why didn't you show up for breakfast?

- I, huh ... I was very tired because of the night, you know. - I say looking away, maybe she believed that I and Jason did that, because in no way I wanted her to find out we didn't do that, she nods in agreement.

- And what clothes are these? You are no longer at home, daughter, you have to wear appropriate clothes. - She scolded me while trying to be "kind", when I knew she wanted to yell at me for wearing those clothes, but of course she wouldn't argue with me, not in front of the other nobles. 

- When I went to my room they were already carrying my bags, those were the only clothes I could find. - Of course it was a lie, there were other clothes and others more "appropriate" as she said, but I decided to wear that outfit because I liked to dress like this, and she knew very well that it was a lie, but because we were in front of others nobles she just scowled at me. 

- So it's better to change your clothes as soon as possible. - I cross my arms so that she sees that I refused to do this, as she didn't want to freak out in front of everyone she just changed the subject. - Lunch will soon be ready, join us and let's go to the dining room. 

Well, it's not like I have a choice to refuse, but I also knew what time or other I would have to go to lunch, so it was better to follow them than to be lost again, so I say yes quietly and start following them in silence, while they talked about political things.

It didn't take long before we got to the big dining room, with a giant table made of some very expensive and chic wood, when we arrived we were the first to be there besides the employees who was preparing the table, and  they indicated the places where we should sit, I sit in my designated chair and my mother sits on my left side, while on the right side there is a chair which I already had a brief guess of who would sit there. 

At the end of the table which was closest to me was a chair that stood out from the others, and I assumed it was King Bruce who would sit there, on the sides of the table, next to me and the different chair there were five other normal chairs but these were empty, three on the side opposite me and two on my side, and I soon thought it would be the chairs for each of the princes. 

My assumptions didn't take long to materialize, because soon the king along with the five princes came to the table while laughing at something. They all wore casual clothes but appropriate for a prince, their clothes were almost identical, white flax shirts, vests made of leather or some similar material, black pants that stayed inside his boots of practically the same color, and of course, there was a belt that served to hold their sword, the only thing that differed in their clothes was the size and colors of their vests, the oldest of the five wore a bluish vest, Jason’s was dark red that looked like it was blood, the boy who thought he was the third oldest wore a red vest too, but besides being a lighter red his vest had some golden details, the fourth wore a golden yellow vest with black details, and the last and youngest of them all, who was the same boy he had met this morning, wore an emerald green vest, and of course, the king dressed in the same way as his sons, his vest being black. 

They all stopped laughing when they noticed the presence of other people there, and soon took their seats in silence, the king sitting on the end, the oldest sitting next to the king and Jason, who had sat next to me, the other three sat on the other side, and the youngest sat next to the king, the third oldest sitting next to him, and the other who wore the yellow vest sitting in front of me. 

For a moment the place was in an awkward silence, until little by little the conversations were resumed, other people also appeared, both noble allies of my kingdom and Gotham's allies. After a while the employees finally bring the food to the table. My mother nudges me with her elbow and whispers to me "look at the posture", I immediately straightened up in my chair with the right posture, I kept watching all the food there, and I must say, none really made me want to eat because they were all those fancy, expensive and extravagant foods that I wasn't a fan of, I just stand there, watching the food and my empty plate, making no move to get anything to eat. 

- Aren't you going to eat daughter? - My mom asks me while pointing to my empty plate. 

- I'm not hungry. - I say in a low voice and still looking at my plate. 

- You need to eat something, you didn't even have breakfast. - I look at my mother, but just shake my head negatively, I look at my plate for a while longer, until I get up from my chair, catching the attention of everyone present. 

- Where are you going? - My mom asked, but I didn't answer her, and I just left the room and walking around the castle, I just wanted to get out of there, no matter where, just anywhere. 

I didn't even look at where I was going, I just know that when I realized I was passing through the warriors' training yard and not far from there I ended up in the stables, where there were several horses, all of them very tall and ready for battle, I looked at them in awe, I loved horses so much, but it had been so long since I had galloped in one, I was a little afraid to get too close to them, because being someone they didn’t know they could very well end up attacking me, I walked slowly in the corridor, watching each horse, until I stopped in front of one that caught my attention, unlike the others he wasn't so tall, and his body was more rounded, and his legs were thicker and stronger than the others. But there was something different about him, not just his structure, but he looked at me differently, which through his eyes even looked like he was talking to me, I didn’t even notice when I approached him until I was stroking his muzzle, it was so cute. 

- Hey! Caution! - I turn scared in the direction of the unknown voice and see that it was a boy who had called me, he should be the same age as me, or more or less close, he wasn't very tall as the other men here, he had tanned skin and dark brown hair. He approached me, and he didn't look very happy, in fact he looked like a mixture of anger and fear. - This horse is treacherous, it isn't good to be on his side. 

- Are you sure? He looks so tame. - I say while looking at the short, golden colored horse with white details. 

- Yes, I'm sure, I am the caretaker of all these horses and this is the most problematic, and I say, it is better to get away. - He spoke stiffly, I look at him and then at the horse. 

- By the way, why are you here? I'm pretty sure you aren't allowed to be here.

- I-I was just exploring the castle, and when I realized I got here, and I couldn't help myself and see the horses. - I say looking away. - I thought I could see them.

The horse caretaker didn't seem to know exactly what to say, he sighs and speaks. 

- As long as you're careful, I think it's okay to see them. - I smile happily, finally someone wouldn't stop me from doing something. - I really need to get some things and then take care of one of the injured horses, just don't get hurt while I'm out. 

He warn me while walking away from me, I nodded and said I would be careful, and so he left the stable. I approach that short horse again and pet him, I didn’t understand, he didn’t look bad, I look in his stall and notice that he has a small gold plate with a name carved in it, "Apollo". 

- I don't think you're that bad Apollo. - I say as I continued to pet him.

An idea came to mind, I look around and realize that there was no one there besides me and the other horses, I smile at Apollo and say. 

- I think you don't like it here much, do you? 

He shakes his head to affirm my question, I look around the stable and see some saddles and reins, I take Apollo out of his stall and I take it close to where the items were, and soon I put all the items in him, before mounting Apollo I stand in front of him and say looking into your eyes.

- I don't know how we will get out of here, but I know that together we will be able to get out in a way. 

His eyes seemed to say: "I know a way", I smile at him, open the door that was closed in the stable and realize that there it goes out into an open field where I supposed the horses to graze, I ride in Apollo and without delay he start walking towards exit. I looked around the field, I knew that that field would at some point be a limit for the horses not to leave. 

- So, do you know a way to get out of here buddy? - He turns his head to me and neighs, his eyes say it is for me to leave it up to him. 

- Then move on. - I talk to him, allowing him to start walking, I held the reins tighter when he started walking much faster. I just hope that after so long I still know how to ride a horse.

We both walked through the open field, Apollo seemed to know very well what he was doing, but it didn't take long for a problem to arise, there was a wall which prevented the horses from escaping, it was not so high, but I found it impossible to get past it, and I started to worry when the horse didn’t stop its pace. 

- Apollo, what are you doing? - I tried to make him stop using the reins but it didn't work, what was I doing now? 

It was then that Apollo went towards a rock that was there, he increased his speed even more and used that stone as a support to jump over the wall. I was unresponsive, I swore I was going to die at that moment, either from a heart attack or falling off the horse. I was paralyzed, and I was not released from this trance state until Apollo stopped and neighed at me.

- You could have warned me earlier! - I say to him and he just looked at me saying: "I'm just a horse, how was I going to warn you?" 

I take a deep breath trying to calm myself down again, it was all crazy. Then I pressed Apollo's flanks to make him walk, I knew I would have to get out of there before the guards came after me.

Apollo trotted for a while, until I could hear the sound of the nearest sea, so I directed him until we reached the beach, I was enjoying the scenery for a while until I got off the horse. 

Unlike most of the beaches I had already seen, a part of the beach was rocky, and the part that had sand wasn't that big. I watched it for several minutes, and even though I wasn't holding or riding Apollo, he didn't seem to want to leave my side. 

I took a deep breath, letting the scent of the sea enter my nostrils and the icy wind ruffle my hair. I looked towards where the castle was supposed to be, and then I looked at the sea, and then at the woods behind me, I had a chance to escape with Apollo, but I knew that even if I did it, at some point someone would find me again, and worse, the war, the only thing that kept me from running away was this damn war, I knew everything would come back again, and knowing that it would happen and because of me, it made me very bad, I didn't want innocent people to die for my recklessness.

It might not have been a long time of freedom, but just riding and being there on the beach had already made me a little happier. I turn to Apollo and tell him. 

- It's time to go back. 

He turned his head immediately surprised by this, and he seemed to say, "but you said that we would run away!" 

- I-I know what I said, but... but if I really do that, very bad things are going to happen because of me. But you can be free Apollo, there is no one who can stop you now. - I pet him and when I would take his halter off he turns his face. 

- Hey! I just want to take this away from you, so you can be free! Isn't that what you want? - He shakes his head negatively, and I am confused, he approaches me and puts his head on my shoulder. 

- Do you... want to stay with me? - I say as I walk away and look into his black eyes and pet his head, he seemed to say yes. I smile at him. 

- Okay, so let's go back to the castle, but this time, without crazy jumps it looks like I'm going to die halfway. 

He neighed and I think I should think of it as a laugh. Apollo then takes me towards the castle again, but then I guide him to the entrance, because I knew we had no way to get back the same way we left, and even though I knew that my parents would find me sooner to scold me, I knew it would happen sooner or later, so the sooner the better. 

As we approach the big gate I soon hear a guard shout from above the walls: "PRINCESS Y/N! SHE'S BACK! PRINCESS Y / N IS BACK!"  

It didn't take long for the gates to be opened for me to cross and I also saw that people started to leave the castle and they went to meet me, and of course one of the first to approach was my mother with her face of anger and disappointment. 

- What were you thinking y/n?

- Riding a horse? - I speak pointing to the horse. 

- Enough of your jokes y/n, you know very well what you did. - I look at her angrily too, I thought for a few seconds until I told her. 

- Yeah, I know. And? 

Her anger was so great that I could see that tears started to form in her eyes.

- Do you want to ruin everything? Do you want the war to return? This is what you want? 

- If I wanted that I would have done a lot worse, by the way, I didn't run away, I'm here, am I not? What's more, what are you going to do about it? punish me putting me in my room? 

My mother was quiet for a while, the other people who were there were also quiet, just watching the circus catch on fire. 

- What did I do wrong for you to become that way? - She asks as tears fall, even after everything, she was still my mother, and I won't lie, knowing that I hurt her, hurted me, but when she hurt me before, she didn't seem to care. 

- Want me to make you a list? - I say with anger still running through my veins, even if she was my mother, it does not undo the things she did.  

She just looked at me with sadness and anger, and left, other people looked at me with disapproval, and I just ignored them and took Apollo towards the stable, I knew the stable/training area should have a path that connected with the castle entrance, so it wasn't too difficult to find the location.  

Unlike before, there were almost no horses in the stable, and I also saw no sign on the caretaker, I leave Apollo and take him to his place again, I remove all his equipment and put it in place, I give him one last pet before leaving.

I know that everyone there would disagree with my actions, but I didn't care, but I was slightly worried because I knew that anything good that was in the relationship between me and Jason, or anyone in the royal family would now be negative, and that could be a bad sign, because with their distrust of me, it could indeed cause revolt against me, against my family and my kingdom, that is, in some way the war could return. 

I sighed angrily, again I had been such a reckless and selfish big asshole. 

I walked through the castle, trying to find the bedroom that I would share with my husband from now on, but as I searched I was stopped by an angry voice coming from behind me, I shrunk but I turned to see Jason approaching me. 

- What the fuck do you think you were doing? Did you know that you could not ride alone without protection, let alone without permission? - I shrunk and I stepped back at his increasingly angry voice, unlike my mother, Jason still scared me, and I feared what he might do to me or someone else for my actions.

- I-I... I thought I would have a little mo-more freedom here, but... but of course it wouldn't be any different here. - I say turning around to ignore him and also so he doesn't see the tears that started to form in my eyes and soon I leave there, going anywhere. 

- Where are you going?! - He says and I can hear his footsteps approaching me. 

- And does it matter? - He goes ahead of me, so that I could see him, but I try to ignore him. 

- Yes, it does, and from now on I won't take my eyes off you. - His voice was still irritated, and I could feel his eyes pierce me with anger. - Now tell me, where are you going.

I hesitate for a moment, until I answer him. 

- I-I think where our bedroom should be from now on.

- That's the wrong direction. - He answers, his voice was still not very friendly, but he was not as angry as he was seconds ago. - Do you even know where mi-, our room is?

I shake my head negatively and he sighs. 

- Follow me. - I did as he was told, and then in a few minutes we got to our room. 

- Huh, could you tell me where my clothes were put? - I say when I enter the room and he points to the wardrobe. 

- They must have put it in the wardrobe. 

I agree, and then I look at him and I ask. 

- Could I be alone for a while? At least until I showered and dressed. 

He agrees and leaves me there alone in the room, I look for my clothes in the wardrobe and then go to the bathroom to take a shower. When I finished dressing in leggings, a short-sleeved shirt and a sweatshirt as it was starting to get cold, I left the room and came across a guard. 

- Do you wish to go somewhere, your highness? - The man should have been in his thirties, he had brown hair and beard, and black eyes, he wore chainmail along with half his armor, and next to him was a scabbard in which his sword was kept.  

- Huh, where's Jason? 

- The prince is in a meeting at the moment, but if you need to go somewhere, I will accompany you, since from now on I will be your bodyguard.

Hmf, how great, a bodyguard, was everything I wanted most. I held back to keep from rolling my eyes, and then I smile at the guard and say. 

- So, huh, if you will be my bodyguard could you tell me your name? 

- Scott, Scott Dankworth.  

- Nice to meet you, Scott. - I half smile and he makes a little bow. 

- It's an honor to be able to protect you. 

We were silent for a few seconds until Scott asked. 

- Would you like to go somewhere, your highness? 

- No, I… I'm going to stay in the room anyway. But thanks for asking. - I shake my head negatively as I enter the room. 

- Alright princess, if you need to leave or anything, please let me know. 

I agree slightly and then close the bedroom door and lie down on the bed, honestly I had no idea what to do now, so I just lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the hours passed like that, until I realize through the bedroom window that the sun had started to disappear, in a little while it would probably be dinner. I looked at the ceiling for a while longer, until I heard a knock on the door. 

- Who is it? - I say without emotion in my voice. 

- It's Scott, your highness. 

- You may come in. 

- I just want to warn you that dinner is on the table and they are waiting for your presence.

- Could you please tell them that I am too unwilling to attend the dinner? 

- Of course, Your Highness. 

He closed the door and I can hear the sound of his boots hitting the floor moving further and further away, but after some time I can hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. 

- Your Highness? - He said while knocking on the door. 

- Come in.

- They told me that you didn't eat anything for lunch or eat breakfast, and that you should go to dinner for the sake of your health. 

- I'm fine Scott. I already told you, I'm unwell for that dinner. 

The silence prevailed for a few seconds until the bodyguard started to speak again. 

- Wouldn't you like me to bring you something to eat? That way you won't have to attend dinner. 

I was thinking for a moment, I would be lying if I said I wasn't hungry, as the only thing I ate today was a piece of cake and a cup of coffee, and my stomach was now completely empty, begging for it I would eat something soon. 

- Can be… 

- What do you want me to bring, your highness? 

- Hmm… if maybe there was f/fd, I would be very happy.

- I'll see what I can do, your highness. 

- Ok. Thank you. 

When he left my room again, he came back after a some minutes saying that there was no such thing at dinner, but that lady Constance said she could do it as long as I could wait to be ready, and I agreed. It took some time, but the whole wait was worth it because the food was delicious. 

- Scott, tell Constance that the food was magnificent and that I thank her very much for her kindness. 

- I will. - The guard left with the tray with the empty plate in hand, and when he returned he said the following. - Your family is leaving for your kingdom, I will guide you so you can say goodbye to them. 

But I stayed in bed, I didn't want to say goodbye to them, not just because I hated goodbyes, but because I was still angry with them, and I didn't want to see them. 

- Tell them I said goodbye and have a nice trip. 

- Aren't you going to tell them personally? 

- No. - I just say that and he must have understood that it was better not to insist, and so he left. 

As soon as he left I couldn't stop the tears from falling. I don't know how long I was looking at the ceiling like that, but soon I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore and ended up sleeping. 

A/n - Well, I thought this chapter would be bigger than the second, but in the end it was almost the same size. I hope you enjoyed, by the way, I don't know if at the beginning, Damian's personality was similar to his or not, and I also know that aesthetic doesn't seem to match, but I couldn't find images that matched and related to facts in the chapter, so sorry for that. (and the knight in the aesthetic is the bodyguard, just so you know) 

Btw, if in case it have anything confused or with English errors, please let me know. 

I think that's it, I really hope you like it =) 

Until the next chapter!

See ya!

- Ina -

Masterlist

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #red hood #Red Hood x reader #Royal AU #AU Royalty #arranged marriage #arranged marriage AU #King Bruce Wayne #Prince Jason Todd #Prince Jason Todd x reader #x reader #princess reader #Royal AU batfamily #Royal batfamily #Royalty batfamily #jason todd arranged marriage #reader arranged marriage #batboys #royal batboys #Prince Dick Grayson #Prince Tim Drake #Prince Duke Thomas #Prince Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth

[hypnoshatesme]

All Eyes

The world was over but the hallway stayed the same, even if hallways outside ceased to exist as they used to. Gerry spent a lot of time in it. So did Michael. They had to do little to feed anymore as the only thing certain about the new world was the fear. So they often spent their time in the hallways, doing nothing in particular, and, sometimes, everything.

It was the closest Gerry had ever come to having a normal home where he spent more time in it rather than hunting down books or doing research to find them. In a way, it felt nice. It didn't matter that his home gave him a headache. It was slight. He'd had worse.

Gerry was sitting by the open door, as he often did, smoking and watching the world burn, metaphorically and literally. His eyes were eager to drink all in, even the ones covered by clothes seeing just fine, seeing details he realistically shouldn't be able to see.

His original two eyes were looking into the middle distance, not focusing on anything as he drank in the suffering. Part of him wished it wouldn’t feel quite so natural, but he knew that was pointless to linger on. This was his life now. And Gerry wasn’t sure whether he liked it worse than how it used to be before. He probably should.

Too long, too thin arms wrapped around him from behind as a too heavy head came to rest on his own. Neither felt right, but this sense of wrongness had become a comfort. It still made Gerry's head buzz slightly, and he welcomed it. He wasn't completely numb to everything, at least.

"Enjoying a meal?", the words fell from Michael’s lips directly into Gerry’s ears, like it was talking directly into them, not resting its head on top of Gerry’s.

It used to give him a headache, that voice, but now the distorted many layered noise made him buzz pleasantly and he leaned into the hug. Gerry couldn’t really bring himself to like this less than before.

"Yeah.", he mumbled, flicking the ashes of his cigarette down. The door was on some kind of high building or tower right now. It didn't matter. The world looked the same everywhere. Gerry could see.

Michael's finger came to trace it's way down the side of gerrys neck, around the eye right under his left ear, currently trained on some poor bastard being fucked over by the Stranger. Gerry shivered. The eye had done little to make that spot any less sensitive.

The fingers wandered further, between the cluster of eyes on his neck, all watching different horrors. They were forced to blink as Michael dragged its finger between them. With this cluster, Michael had no problem getting through while his finger kept its three dimensional shape. Some of the eyes were too close to each other for that.

Michael brought its hand down Gerry’s arm, eyes there fluttering close, irritated by being interrupted in their watching. It didn't bother Gerry much personally. He loved the slight electricity of Michael’s touch.

Gerry had plenty other eyes that were still wide and taking in the fear that had now become the only thing really there on earth. It was a feast, really. Gerry hummed as Michael digged his sharp fingernails into Gerry’s arm, feeling the muscle.

"What about you?", Gerry mumbled, leaning his head back a little. It did little to see Michael’s face. His chin was out of focus, though, and Gerry wasn’t sure if it was his brain or if Michael was just not bothering to keep its shape somewhat.

Michael chuckled, "Mhm, there's currently quite a few lost in the hallways. Been making for a good snack for quite some time now."

Gerry nodded, turning his head around to press his lips against Michael's throat. It felt as wrong as ever, and Michael made some sort of noise that sounded like a pleased buzzing. Gerry grinned at that.

Gerry had wondered in the beginning if he would ever run into any of Michael’s snacks while wandering the hallways. He had asked, once, watching Michael changing the colours of the hallway out of boredom, losing its form more and more as it was having, what Gerry assumed, some sort of fun. It would be cute, if watching Michael dissolve into spirals and patterns and colours, drifting apart, moving together, everything at once wouldn’t still make Gerry’s headache spike.

"Only of you want.", Michael had chuckled, shrill and gleeful, and Gerry had to control the urge to press his hands to his ears. It was too late anyways. The sound was already in his head and it was making his brain vibrate in his skull. "I don't mind sharing food.", Michael laughed, its laugh head-splitting and Gerry managed a pained grin, hands clenched into fists underneath his folded arms over his chest. His knees felt a little wobbly.

Michael was coming together again, and then it was right in front of Gerry, wrapping too-flexible arms around Gerry’s neck, “Too much?”, it giggled, and this time Gerry’s head didn’t feel like bursting.

It leaned its head against Gerry’s, ignoring the fact that a neck should not be able to bend like that. That was a big positive with Michael, Gerry guessed. There was little problem in pressing it close and kissing it at the same time if Gerry wanted, despite the height difference. Anatomy was a mere suggestion to it. And by now Gerry was getting used enough to it for his brain to not shut down at every wrong twist. Well, there was more fucked up shit going on outside. That probably helped with desensitising.

“Do you want to meet them?”, it asked, and its voice could barely contain the excitement radiating from its form.

Gerry shook his head slightly. He didn’t feel like adding to Michael’s playthings’ horror. Well, part of him did. Part of him was very curious about what their reactions might be. He wasn’t outside much anymore. He didn’t know how people might react, if they were still present enough to really see him. If they weren’t consumed by a different fear already.

Eventually, Gerry would probably give in to that curiosity, as always. But for now, he was fine, closing the gap to press his lips to what passed for lips on Michael, arms unfolding to bury in the ever-moving curls that eagerly wrapped themselves around Gerry’s fingers.

Gerry was used to his new existence. It had been a gradual process after the Eye took over. He had known that he was becoming too close to it before that already. It had been surprisingly easy to give up his humanity. He had been desperate. He hadn’t want to die yet.

And Gerry had always been too curious for his own good. He couldn’t have resisted for very long.

The eyes had started to appear when the tower became the centre of the new world and Gerry started to be able to see . It took some getting used to and he was thankful that they appeared slowly, new eyes breaking through skin at seemingly random. One more eye to watch another misery with.

Gerry had been dreading they'd take over his whole body, but after some time he had known that was it. There was still plenty of skin that was without eyes overall, through the eyes were often spread out so it wouldn't go long before there was another. Gerry didn't think he would care anymore. Except that he quite liked the feeling of Michael's fingers finding those patches, mapping them out with too sharp fingers. They didn't feel half bad when brushing over his eyes, but there was something about the spots that were still Gerry as he used to be that made Gerry shiver pleasantly.

Michael had let him stay in the hallways to give him a break from the overwhelming new experience of seeing. It was easier to get used to it that way. He couldn't see very well in the hallways. It distorted his vision. The eyes were eager to get out and take things in again, twitching and moving most of the time he was inside the hallways.

Gerry liked to draw it out, see how long he could go before the urge, the curiosity became too much and he’d had to open a door to look outside. Otherwise, it didn’t bother him. He joked about fitting in better, that way, watching Michael’s ever shifting and glitching form from where he was laying in Michael’s lap. Michael would be an absolute pain to draw, Gerry thought, and grinned. Michael laughed, high and painfully beautiful, or maybe beautifully painful.

It was hard to think straight with Michael’s long fingers touching his face tenderly, lovingly. Gerry would never figure out if it was due to Michael - or the hallway - fucking with his brain, or because of the fact that somehow Michael put himself together enough to clearly convey those feelings and that was just a little too much for Gerry to take. He was still very much himself, in that aspect. He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of Michael’s finger against his lips.

All the mirrors in the hallways made Gerry stop getting too bothered by his reflection, too. Michael had offered to remove them for him when it caught Gerry stare at his reflection too intensely, looking anywhere between disturbed to outright disapproving. Gerry had shook his head. He was determined to get used to it. He was curious to see where the next one would be, to keep track of them. It was fine.

He did wish the eyes would have all been the same colour, though. They were messing up his aesthetic. Michael laughed when he heard Gerry complain about it once.

“I always told you some colour would look good on you.”, it had said, playfully twirling a strand of Gerry’s hair around its finger. Gerry had been relieved to find out that it had just stayed black for good after he started changing.

He huffed out an amused laugh, “And yet you seemed to be unable to resist the black.”

Michael tugged at the strand, covering Gerry’s mouth with its own as he let out a small whine. “Hasn’t changed.”, it muttered against Gerry’s lips, and Gerry rolled his eyes, but before he could say more Michael closed in again, wrapping its arms around Gerry and pulling him flush against its form.

Gerry let his cigarette fall to the ground beneath. Michael was tracing the eye at the back of his hand, seemingly enjoying finding out just how close it could go before the eye closed.

"You done?", it asked, pressing a kiss to Gerry’s forehead, right where his hair began. Its neck really shouldn’t bent like this, and Gerry was glad it did. The kiss felt nice and Gerry sighed.

"Think so.", he mumbled.

Michael got up and pulled Gerry to his feet and turning him around to face it. It pressed a kiss to Gerry’s cheek - the one relatively devoid of eyes - before pressing its lips to the cluster of eyes on the other, lingering there as it took Gerry’s hand in its own and squeezed gently. Gerry could never tell if Michael did this because he liked annoying the eyes or because it might like them.

Michael had been quite interested in the eyes from the beginning, fingers constantly coming to touch them whenever they were sitting around relaxing, Michael usually sprawled over Gerry’s lap at some ridiculous angle, barely bothering to keep his form humanesque since Gerry didn’t seem to mind it that much.

He used to keel over, overwhelmed with perceiving Michael’s chaos, but now he just scrunched up his nose a little, staring up - down? - at the ceiling - floor? - of the hallway. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered and nothing ever was right, and Gerry had come to just roll with it.

"Do they feel like eyes?", Michael had asked him, once, early on.

Gerry looked down at it, regretting it instantly as his headache spiked for a moment. He bit his lip and swallowed a grunt. Michael was slowly coming back into focus, as much as it ever did. It started to look vaguely human again.

Gerry sighed, running his fingers through hair that curled and wrapped around his fingers, seemingly caressing them, "Do you have any idea what eyes actually feel like, Michael?"

"No.", Michael said cheerfully, grin wide and sharp, but a little lopsided on its face, a little warped at the edges. “I was just curious. They react like your eyes when I touch them.”

“When have you ever touched my actual eyes?”, Gerry raised an eyebrow.

“That one time in the archive? It was an accident.”, its grin said otherwise.

Gerry took a moment before he remembered. That had definitely not been an accident. Gerry had been spacing out while Michael had been talking about something or another, or both at the same time, probably, and was suddenly jolted back into reality because Michael’s sharp fingertip was suddenly dangerously close to his eye.

Gerry scowled at the memory, making Michael laugh his shrill, shattering laugh, that still got under Gerry’s skin, but maybe in a slightly different way than when he had first heard it, “I remember now…”, he was trying to pull his hand away from Michael’s hair but the strands didn’t let go and he sighed, continuing to run his fingers through the too sharp hair. “Don’t do that again.”

“Why? You have eyes to spare now.”, it chuckled, and it reverberated around them until it seemed like the hallways were chuckling. In a sense, Gerry guessed, they were.

“‘Tis unpleasant. My eyes haven’t changed much. I’d like to keep them.”

Michael reached up, tracing Gerry’s cheek, the one that was relatively eyeless, “How sentimental.”

Gerry grinned, “You’re one to talk. You never change too much from Michael’s form.”

“I am Michael.”, it grinned.

Gerry returned the grin, “You really aren’t.”

Michael’s mouth curled into a cheerful smile, “That’s just as probable.”

Silence had settled as Gerry kept petting its hair, the strands becoming more and more staticy as Michael melted into the touch, then snapping back into something more corporal when it couldn’t actually feel Gerry’s fingers too well anymore.

“I think I want you to keep them, too.”, it eventually said, eyes focused on Gerry’s face.

Gerry looked back down, “Hm?”

It smiled, “Your eyes. They’re still the prettiest of all.”

Gerry laughed, “Is that so.”

It nodded, “I checked.”, the smile was toothy - still too many teeth, it never got that right, which was probably the point - as it brought a thin finger to trace Gerry’s jaw.

It was endearing to look at, adorable, really, and Gerry stopped questioning the fact that he thought that way a long time ago. He put his hand over Michael’s, running his fingers along the too big, too thin hand. The skin felt all off, but it was closer than it had been in the start. It didn’t cut anymore, at least. Michael was looking at his eyes now, the original two, smiling somewhat deamily. It looked really off, and Gerry chuckled. Its giggled.

Gerry had asked it, once, when there was sparsely a spot on him left without an eye, if it bothered it. He had sounded genuinely curious. Michael hovered over Gerry’s bare form, watching those eyes twitch and rapidly move, trying to see, to no avail. But they still tried, only the two original ones trained on Michael, heavy-lidded and expecting.

A couple of the others would join if Michael waited long enough, curiosity getting the better of them and, well, there was little else to look at for so many eyes in the hallway. Michael liked to wait, liked to guess which one would turn to meet its eyes, would like to give itself more eyes just to return all those gazes equally. Gerry rolled his original eyes when it did.

Michael licked what went for lips as about a dozen eyes settled on it, and it brought its long, pointed fingers down to travel up Gerry's sides, enjoying the bumps of the eyeballs underneath as they closed where his fingers passed. The noises falling from Gerry’s lips were delicious and Michael shivered, hands travelling over Gerry’s chest.

"Are you finally going to kiss me?”, Gerry gasped, when Michael’s fingers started wandering down his stomach, as it stared down at him, eyes frantic and wanting. Gerry somehow still managed to fit some annoyance in his breathy tone.

Michael laughed, "Mhm, I love when you get all impatient like this.", it purred, bending down, stopping when its face was mere inches away from Gerry’s. It could feel Gerry’s breath hitching as Michael brought his hands to his hips, thumb running over the navel piercing on its way.

Gerry looked up at it, meeting its eyes, "You love the weirdest shit, Michael.", he bit his lip as he felt Michael’s hand wander further south.

"You included?"

Gerry groaned at that, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”, he buried his hands in Michael’s hair and finally pulled him into a bruising kiss, face burning a bright pink. Michael didn’t miss that, eyes never closing if it didn't want to - and it never did when they were looking at Gerry - and giggled into the kiss, before kissing back.

No, the eyes didn't bother Michael at all. There was something quite thrilling about it, a pleasant tingle running down its warped spine when it could feel the many eyes focusing on it. Michael wondered, distantly, if something might be wrong with it.

Ah, but that was the whole point, wasn't it?

#gerrymichael #Gerard Keay #gerry keay #michael the distortion #michael tma #fluff #body horror #? #depends on what you're into rly

[teodorefms]

 GREETINGS  ,  angels  !   i  literally  suck  at  everything  relating  to  introductions  ?  so  please  don’t  mind  how  much  of  a  mess  this  is  going  to  be  .   im  gianna  ,  or  gi  ,  and  i  go  by  she  and  her  pronouns  !   im  super  excited  to  be  here  ,  and  even  more  excited  to  write  with  all  of  you  !!    below  the  cut  you’ll  find  trash  that’s  suppose  to  be  a  bio  asdjf  .  

&&.  announcing  his  royal  highness  𝓉𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒   𝓋𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓏𝑜   𝒹𝒾   𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒶  ,  the  twenty  year  old  prince  of  𝙄𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙔  .  he  is  often  confused  with  lorenzo  zurzolo  .  some  say  that  he  is  imprudent  and  petulant  ,  but  he  is  actually  intrepid  and  scrupulous  .

*    STATISTICS .

FULL  NAME.    teodore  vincenzo  di  savoia  .

NAME  MEANING.   god  gift  (  teodore  )  ,   to  win  or  to  conquer  (  vincenzo  )  .

REASONING.     honeyed  cries   and  sapphire  hues  ,   angelic  innocence  concealing  the  burning  urge  of  freedom  ,  the  birth  of  teodore  was  seen  as  a  gift  from  god  before  mischievousness  captured  those  sapphire  hues  and  recklessness  settled  in  .   and  what  was  a  better  name  then  teodore  who’s  meaning  is  just  that  ?

NICKNAMES.   teo  ,  teddy  .

PREFERRED  NAME.   teo  .

BIRTH  DATE.   january  thirty  first  .

AGE.   twenty  .

ZODIAC.    aquarius   .

GENDER.   cis  male  .

PRONOUNS.   he  and  him  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION.   heterosexual  .

HAIR  COLOR.    a  soft  chestnut  brown  ,  develops  almost  blonde  streaks  during  the  summer  season  .

EYE  COLOR.   blue  ,  in  certain  lights  they  tend  to  look  more  on  the  grey  side.

DOMINANT  HAND.   right  .

HEIGHT.  five  ft  eleven  .

USUAL  EXPRESSION.    in  the  center  of  those  who  share  the  same  elite  title  as  his  ,  boredom  drips  from  his  features                  evidence  in  rosy  lips  that  remain  in  a  straight  line  and  hues  that  search  the  room  for  anything  to  rid  him  of  the  suffering   .   if  you  happen  to  catch  him  in  a  presence  of  non  royals  ,  or  even  those  he  simply  just  cares  about   ,  a  light  will  awaken  in  brunette  features  .  a  arrogant  smile  and  trouble  screaming  in  his  eyes  .

TATTOOS.   none  .

PIERCINGS.   none  .

DRUGS  /  ALCOHOL  /  SMOKING.   yes  to  all  of  the  above  .

LINKS.  pinterest  (  i  still  had  a  lot  to  add  but  just  so  yous  have  it  )

*  AESTHETICS  .

calloused  digits  pulling  at  bronze  locks  .    unread  text  messages  .   diamonds   covering  pearly  whites  .    bright  lights  .    a  racing  pulse  .    thunder  disturbing  pleasant  dreams  .   arrogance  spilling  into  rosy  lips  .   bruised  knuckles  .   skin  covered  in  love  bites  .    messy  sheets  .    burned  cigarettes   .  

*  DON’T  GET  CUT  ON  MY  EDGES  

                    the  contagious   echo  of  your  laughter  ,      tiny  footsteps  that  dance  across  polished  floors  .  even  as   a  small  child  house  rules  and  expectations  could  not  contain  you  .   you  ran  to  FREEDOM  ,  escaping  the  hands  of  servants  that  warned  you  of  the  consequences  .    silky  pajamas  that  clung  to  your  body  as  you  raced  from  room  to  room  ,  finding  the  excitement  you  so  desperately  craved  .   when  masculine  arms   caught  you  ,  you  presented  innocent  expressions  and  that  charming  smile  older  women  swore  would  be  the  cause  of  heart  breaks  among  many  when  you  were  older  .  in  return  ,  you  were  always  greeted  with  false  sternness  and  a  head  shake   that  spoke  for  itself  ,  you  were  going  to  be  TROUBLE  .  

star  filled  eyes  and  crowds  that  parted  ways  for  you  ,  SOVEREIGNTY  wasn’t  a  term  you  were  old  enough  to  understand  yet  but  it  was  carved  into  your  skin  .  the comments  that  floated  above  your  head  then  ,  did  not  bother  you   .  sculpted  by  the  hands  of  gods  ,  young  teodore  ,  you were  DESTINED  for  greatness  .  you  never  knew  exactly�� why  ,  but  understood  enough  from  the  looks  others  gave  you  that  you  were  of  importance  .  it  didn’t  take  long  for  you  to  catch  on   however   ,  no  .  as  much  as  you  have  everyone  fooled  ,  you’ve  always  been  a  smart  boy  .  though  concealed  ,  rather  use  that  space  in  your  head  not  for  irreverent  facts  that  held  no  interest  to  you  but  how  to  get  away  with  murder  and  come  out  unscratched  .  

because  of  that  ,  disappointment  and  disapproval  came  early  for  you  .  you  were  a  wild  soul  stuck  in  a  PRISONERS  body  .  escaping  only  to  be  caught  when  the  sun  rose  and  the  light  of  dawn  gave  away  the  pillows  disguised  as  you  .   you  rolled  pretty  blue  hues  and  stood  your  grounds  at  the  bark  of  orders  .    STUBBORN  ,  aren’t  you  ?      ungrateful   is  what  they  called  you   .   shoved  their  fingers  in  your  face  and  raved  about  how  you  were  a  disgrace  ;  but  if  there  was  one  thing  you  ever  listened  to  that  was  worth  anything  it  was  to  let  words  bounce  off  of  you  .   you  always  thought  you  were  UNTOUCHABLE  ,    evidence  in  the  form  of  ,  “   shove  it  !    “  .    

estranged  relationship  rooted  in  lectures  that  reminded  you  that  you  would  never  be  what  people  wanted  you  to  be             even  the  sting  of  red  marks  painted  across  your  skin  could  not shake  the  recklessness  that  sat  on  your  shoulders  .     no   .  instead  you  allowed  it  to  create  an  ocean  between  you   ,    questions  about  a  place  you  did  not  feel  as  though  you  belonged  to  dismissed  faster  then  they  could  leave  lips   .     you’d  never  admit  it  ,  how  LONELY  it  could  be  .  hide  it  behind  a  cocky  smile  and  the  sound  of  your  heart  beating  in  your  ears   .      hand  over  chest  just  to  feel  it  ,  the  adrenaline  .     like  as  long  as  you  had  it  ,  you’d  never  be  alone  .    privileged  with  a  lifestyle  without  boundaries                          you  would  take  advantage  of  everything  it  had  to  offer   .    a  life  full  of  no  regrets  ,  just  a  lifetime  of  memories  you’d  never  forget  .

tear  stained  cheeks  ,    grief  became  a  new    friend               whispered  in  your  ear  until  you  understood  what  it  was  like  to  grieve  a  relationship  you  would  now  never  get  to  form   .    the  lost  of  your  father  didn’t  hurt  as  much  as  the  lost  a  future  with  him  ,  did  it  ?   distractions   were  something  you  yearned  for   ,    slurred  words  and  feet  that  forgot  how  to  walk  was  the  answer   .    hide  sadness  behind   impulsive  decisions   ,    mistakes  behind  black  colored  frames    .    gravity  was  sinning   ,   it  held  you   up   .     your  father  was  no  longer  here  ,  but  you  were  still  ALIVE   .  you  made  sure  to  remind  yourself  of  that   .     the  same  old  teodore  ,  that’s  what  the  headlines  said  .  not  even  the  death  of  your  father  could  calm  reckless  ways   

it  got  easier  ,   in  a  way  .  and  soon  ,    you  escaped   .   ignored  phone  calls  and  indulged  in  a  culture  unlike  yours   .  a  fresh  of  breath  air  you  reported  on  the  phone  when  older  siblings  threatened   that  if  you  didn’t  answer  they’d  send  someone  after  you  .     made  up  stories  about  classes  you  rarely  attended  and  left  out  details  about  friends  that  were  no  good  for  you   .    ignorant  to  the  world  you  grew  up  in  ...   but  nothing  lasts  forever  does  it  ?    because  you  ,  teodore  vincenzo  di  savoia  ,  are  home  . 

#hshqintro #i wrote his last night when it was way too late to be writing #im going to be making a connections page eventually #but please still love me and teodore #and by love me i mean give me angst <3

[renaroo]

Thinking Positive

Disclaimer: Doom Patrol and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics Warnings: internalized homophobia, depression Rating: T Synopsis: In order to heal, Larry will have to work on being more positive. It’s a long and difficult journey. 

A/N: I watched Doom Patrol last year and to say I loved it would be a major understatement. But the thing that took me by surprise the most was just how meaningful Larry Trainor’s story was to me, someone who also grew up surrounded by a lot of homophobia and feels like openly living with pride is still a difficult and ongoing struggle into my adulthood. 

And with global quarantine being what it is, I’ve had a lot of strange and curious time on my hands to work on things so far as mental health is concerned. And it’s had me thinking a lot about how sometimes negativity and cyncism is a coping mechanism that’s easy to use but damaging in the long run. I tend to take that perspective away from Larry’s story rather than the way the show sometimes dismisses valid personal fears of outing and shames closeting. So this rambling story came barreling out of me. I hope it makes some sense. 

Larry dismissed himself from dinner with the rest of Doom Manor’s residents.

It didn’t take much more than some dismissive words on his part, easily ignored over the rambunctious antics of Jane and Cliff, or the attempts to quell said antics by Vic and Flex. Rita was the most difficult to escape, considering Larry was her main outlet for commentary, but even she was willing to let him go when he stressed that he was tired.

He had tired rather easily over the last few months, and Rita knew why even more than the others.

In some ways, it was like therapy. In other ways, it was like torture. But that had always been Larry’s dilemma. He was rarely allowed to have one over the other.

Even before the Negative Spirit melded to his very soul.

When Larry attempted to frame his fears in less selfish designs, he framed his need for more energy as being there for the others. Cliff needed to have someone counter his gutsier instincts. Jane’s sarcasm needed someone equally verbose in it. And Rita, of course, counted on Larry’s counsel more than anyone’s. But it was easier, lately, with each other, with the others like Vic and Flex and even Dorothy, young in appearance and still finding her place as she was.

Besides all that, Larry had made a promise to himself that he wasn’t going to blame his reluctance on others anymore.

Which led to the closing of the thick lead door behind Larry. The slow removal of his protective bindings as the Richter scale crackled in the decompression port. The daily walk through his metal room and his radiation proofed furniture.

It was funny to think that his room had changed so little from the minimal aesthetic it had when the Chief first offered him a place nearly half a century ago. Funny, but also uncomfortable. Like it was wrong and stupid of him, but it had been so long that it would be weirder if Larry attempted to make any big changes.

He laid down on his bed and made himself comfortable, his hands rested over his chest, close to his heart.

Larry gazed at the ceiling and felt the rumbles deep in his body which let him know that the spirit was aware of what time it was.

“Hey there, buddy,” Larry said, voice low and tired. “It’s that time again. The one where I try to get stuff off my chest.” His hands tapped rather nervously over his shirt. It was light enough that the nerve damage kept the tips of his fingers from truly feeling more than the slight pressure of it. “Literally.”

For the life of him, Larry couldn’t figure out why he always started out so nervous and uncomfortable every day.

Then again, Larry had lived his entire life nervous and uncomfortable. It was hard to break habits formed over a century, he supposed.

“Okay, well, here goes nothing,” Larry sighed, closing his eyes and preparing himself. Idioms aside, it did not feel like nothing, it felt like everything every time.

“Start from the top? Positive things?” Larry asked out loud. With his eyes closed, the rumble from the negative spirit felt even stronger, more enthusiastic perhaps. “Of course, you eat those up. Alright.

”Today my azaleas began to bloom early. I got some rhododendron seeds in the mail. Chief is offering to get me a new greenhouse on the property, to expand things. Dorothy made me a flower crown. She didn’t use any of my flowers. I think she used paper and then with her, ah, powers turned them into real flowers. Usually, her using her powers is disturbing, like the whole thing with the puppets. But this was, you know, cute. I liked it. I mean it’s quicker to use a Snapchat filter, but…”

The negative spirit rumbles more abruptly. It gives Larry a sense of warning or disapproval.

“I know, I know, staying positive,” he sucks in a deep breath. It’s the sort of deep, lung filling breath that he’s only capable of thanks to the negative spirit’s possession of him. Their temporary separation reminded him of that. That, however, was an unspoken positive between them.

“I tried a new recipe, everyone seemed to enjoy it,” Larry continued. “It’s curried roasted eggplant with smoked cardamom and coconut milk.” He couldn’t resist the huff of a laugh that escaped him as a result. “Sheryl would’ve never believed it.”

There was a numbness that spread out from his chest. It was an overwhelming sense, but Larry considered it a good development.

He and the Negative Spirit both took a long time to have a response to his ex-wife being invoked that was anything other than overwhelmingly negative.

Still, it was best to trade subjects and not linger on old regrets. As natural as it was for Larry to do that.

“With all the new residents, this place has really gotten lively,” he said, arching his neck back more comfortably on the pillow. “I know I’ve let you out a few times to explore that for yourself, but you probably miss a lot of the little things.”

A gentle hum radiated out from his chest. Positive? Affirmation? Larry was still deciphering the finer bits.

“It’s good for all of them,” Larry concluded. “They fit together well. Well, not fit. The whole point of this place is that fitting is…”

He trailed off, catching his own turn toward negativity long before the spirit had a chance to disrupt him.

“It’s nice, seeing how meaningful it is for Cliff and Jane to have someone…” Larry scowled and lifted up one of his hands from his chest to scrub at his face. Doom Manor was so hard to contextualize sometimes. “Not younger. She’s older than all of us. Smaller? It’s nice to see Cliff and Jane both have someone smaller to look out for. Daughter. Little sister. However it goes.” He lowered his hand down to his side, away from his chest where he’d more acutely feel the rumbles of the Negative Spirit’s responses. “Did I mention she made me a crown? That was nice.”

Larry lapsed into silence, his eyes unfocused as they stared at his ceiling and past it toward all the feelings and regrets of a long life.

He never felt the need to regain a sense of fatherhood like Cliff was haunted by. But he had been a father, too. He had been a father of two.

And he never saw either of them again. Never tried.

Sheryl had taken them away to a better life. Maybe she remarried, to a man who could love her the way she deserved to be love. Maybe the boys got a father who could teach them all the things about being a man that were beyond Larry’s comprehension.

It probably would have been simple enough to find out, if Larry had asked questions or reached out.

But he hadn’t. He forfeited that part of his life, just like he had forfeited so much else.

In some ways, he hoped Sheryl had told the boys he had died. That way they never grew up wondering why Larry hadn’t reached out. So they didn’t have the accurate picture of what a coward their fearless flyboy father had been.

There was no telling how much time he was prepared to spend down that path before his body jolted.

Not without warning, the Negative Spirit seized through Larry’s body with force and separated. His eyes rolled back into his head and everything went limp and dark.

When Larry woke with a gasp, he already knew what had happened, but he sat upon his bed all the same and grabbed at his head in frustration.

“Look! This is part of it!” he yelled toward his chest. His heart was racing, equal parts the Negative Spirit’s pulsing and Larry’s own anger. “I know, I know we need to work on being positive, but you got yourself paired with one of the most naturally negative sons of bitches on the planet. This wasn’t just about you, alright? We’ve talked about this before. I was born negative. I’ve been looking at the dark side of things since I was seven years old and that’s not changed in a century. You have to work with me here if we’re going to get anywhere.”

He was answered only by the creaks and groans of Doom Manor.

“I’m allowed to remember bad things, you know,” Larry continued to argue. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe everyone’s right and I’ve been letting them rule me. I-I know you’re all right about that. But completely avoiding and ignoring negative things doesn’t keep them from existing. It’s dangerous. And it’s wrong.” His frown deepened. “I’d be more of a monster than I ever dreamed myself being, if I thought anything less than the fact that the boys didn’t deserve what they had to go through. Alright? They may be old men now, but they are still my boys. And they deserved not losing everything they ever knew. And they didn’t deserve all the secondhand anxiety and paranoia from me. Those are just facts. Even if they were unavoidable.”

Finally, the Negative Spirit hummed again.

“What? That’s what you wanted from me?” Larry asked, splaying his hands against his chest to feel the rumble more. “You wanted me to say it was unavoidable? Look, how many times do I have to learn these lessons until you’re satisfied?”

There was quiet once more.

“If it’s until I believe them,” Larry’s voice softened to a murmur, “we’ll be doing this every day for a long time. Maybe until the day I finally die. And even then it might not be enough. You know that, right? I’m pretty majorly fucked in here, and a good amount of that came with the package before you joined in, buddy.”

The hum was unmistakable that time, Larry felt it through his core.

Okay.

“Okay,” Larry repeated, laying back down. “Stop having fits the second we go into some territory you don’t like, I’ll try to respond quicker.”

There was another unmistakable hum through his chest.

“If you’re wondering about the conversation with Rita about Flex, then you probably were already aware of most of it,” Larry snorted. “I’m coming up on one hundred years old, I don’t want to repeat what I said to my best friend about someone else’s quads.” He tossed his head a little from side to side and then sighed. “They are nice, though. And admitting it out loud didn’t light me on fire, so, who knows. Maybe being gay does get easier with practice.”

That seemed to satisfy the spirit, and it did Larry, too.

Small victories — victories so small that a previous version of himself might have argued they weren’t worth celebrating, not for the amount of time it took for him to get to that point. But he felt the accomplishment all the same.

There were so many regrets and so much fear in his life that was still there, and he still didn’t believe that erasing all of it was the fully responsible or realistic thing to do.

But he could make himself lighter, in whatever small increments he could. And that was surely worth the battle alone.

#writing #dc fic #Larry Trainor #Negative Man #Keeg Bovo

[iwhumpyou]

Hey so can i request something with a stern but caring caretaker- tropes or anything youd like. Thanks lot

Me:  Oooh, a request!  Sure, I can whip up an aesthetic or something that would fit that - but also a new universe I’m working on has elements of a stern but caring caretaker - but also I can just write a new whump scene for this request - but also

(five days later)

Me: (barely halfway done through the new whump scene)  I’m sorry, please take this part 1 of 2 because I feel badly about making you wait just because a small scene spiraled out of control.  Also, my brain has zero self-control, please send help.

Masterlist.  Janiya.

Part 1.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Janiya counted every step out of the cell, past the guards and up the stairs, Gavin’s hand warm in her own.  She kept her grip loose so that he had to grip it tight, so that if he chose to let go she wouldn’t be scrabbling in vain at empty hope.

He didn’t let go.  

It was raining outside and she ducked her head instantly – even the raindrops, soft as they were, felt like torture on her oversensitive skin.  They had been pulled taut and every breath caused her lips to quiver.

Gavin led her to a car, and Ash was standing next to it, waiting.  He wasn’t smiling anymore – the look on his face was dark and cruel and the knife in his hands was dripping blood.  

Janiya ignored him – she didn’t want to see pity on his face, or a dismissive look, or satisfaction because she knew he had never liked her.

Given the chance, would he have wielded the needle and thread?

She followed Gavin inside the car – he still hadn’t let go of her hand.  Ash slid into the driver’s seat.  “You’re sure?” he asked, managing to exude both disbelief and glee.

“Drive carefully,” Gavin said, in the same, neutral tone he’d been using with her since he saw her. She hated the tone.  She hated the words.  She hated not knowing what he was going to do next.

Ash laughed at the instruction, but when he peeled away from the curb, it was smoothly.  It wasn’t slow by any measure, but it wasn’t rash and they managed to reach the house without breaking any traffic laws.

Ash got out of the car first and, even through the pouring rain, she could see the maniac energy he’d suppressed while driving.  He practically bolted to the front door and she could hear it slam open.  

“It’s okay,” Gavin said, in that same, bland tone.  Janiya realized that she had flinched – the threads were digging in now, tugging at her skin, and she relaxed her face, part by part.

He got out of the car slowly, and stood by the door in the rain as she carefully managed her way out.

He still hadn’t let go of her hand.

She counted every step to the front door, something warring inside of her – on one hand, relief, because the front door was open and light and warmth were spilling out and this was home, this was safe –

She’d thought that, before she’d been abducted.  She’d thought that, before she’d been left in a cell with the echoes of laughter and smirks and sneers and ‘not so talkative now, hmm?’ and a plate of food and a cup of water set tauntingly in the corner.

She remembered arguments with the Irregulars.  Remembered taunts and quips and jokes that were a shade too cruel to be funny.  But it hadn’t mattered to her because the world was a civilized place and they weren’t going to hurt her over some words.

The world was not a civilized place.  The world was a monster dressed in a three-piece suit, with a charming smile that hid all the fangs.

She didn’t want to see the Irregulars’ fangs.  Not now. Not ever.

Gavin paused when he felt her hesitate on the front stoop, his face creasing in confusion, but it didn’t matter because Ivy was standing just inside the door, waiting for them.

“Ash looked pissed, what happen-” And then she caught sight of Janiya’s face and the words died.  Ivy’s eyes widened till they looked like orbs.

The sudden silence was apparently enough of an invitation for everyone else.  “What happened?” different voices chorused and Janiya took a step back, forcing her face to remain still even as her heart started skipping faster.  Gavin’s warm grip was still on her hand and he looked at her, startled, as she slunk back into the shadows. 

“If you would let us come inside,” Gavin said mildly, but there was an edge in his previously neutral tone and Janiya shivered.

Ivy mutely moved aside, her wide-eyed gaze still fixed to Janiya’s face, and everyone’s whispering cut off suddenly, harshly, as Janiya stepped inside.

“What happened?” Rita, her eyes narrowing on Gavin.

“Where is Darin?” Gavin asked, not answering her.

Ivy opened her mouth – and closed it again, looking near frantic.  “I’ll go get him,” she said, practically sprinting out of the room. Everyone else ringed them in circles, silent, but staring.  Gavin did not let go of her hand.

Janiya stared forward and tried her very best not to cry.

Ivy came back quickly, dragging Darin behind her – literally dragging, the man was resisting being pulled and had a disapproving expression on his face.  And then he caught sight of Janiya, and the expression bled out into nothingness, the way Gavin’s face had done when he caught sight of her in the cell.

“I’m going to need my kit,” he said mildly and Ivy pressed it into his hands.  Darin took it and went to the couch.  Gavin pulled Janiya to follow.

The others followed too, like they were pulled along in the tide, and she heard the low murmur of whispers begin to start.  She couldn’t understand them but it was obvious they were talking about her.

Janiya blinked and stared ahead, willing the blurriness in her vision to fade.

Gavin sat her down on the couch, opposite Darin, and let go of her hand.  She snapped her head towards him, even though she’d been ready for him to let go since he’d taken it, because he couldn’t possibly leave her alone with Darin.

He gave her a small, sad smile, before he corralled the others out of the room.  In seconds, Janiya and Darin were the only two left. 

Darin finished whatever he was doing with the kit, and dragged a table over, right in front of her. He took a seat, his knees brushing hers as he uncapped something that smelt strongly of antiseptic.

Her nose twitched – she wanted very badly to sneeze but that was definitely not going to end well. Her stitches tugged at her skin as she tried to shift away and she was unable to suppress the high whimper. Much of it didn’t get out, trapped beneath her lips, but Darin looked up sharply.

“You need to stay still,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Janiya felt tears pricking at her eyes again.  She wanted to move, to put more distance between them, but Darin’s legs were effectively caging her.  She wanted to get away, but she couldn’t.

She blinked and, for a moment, the guard captain was back, leering at her with a sick smile as they pressed her lips shut, as they forced the needle through, it hurt, it hurt so much –

“Janiya,” Darin said and she saw his face again, looking at her with an emotion she couldn’t name. She realized she had pressed herself into the cushions, her arms crossed over her chest.

“The thread has to be removed,” he said, in a curious tone.  It tried to be neutral, but there was an undercurrent of…bitterness, perhaps. “Do you understand?”  She shakily nodded, because she did, she understood the principle of it, but the thought that he was going to have to touch it, to touch her – 

“Do you want someone else to do it?” he asked, and she recognized the undercurrent now.  It was anger, but despite it, Darin sat calmly and waited for her answer.

Did she want someone else? Who else would she ask for?  The Irregulars weren’t her friends, she knew that. She hadn’t tried to be their friends – well she had, but they hadn’t, so she had turned to sarcasm and condescension to cover up the hurt.  None of them liked her, none of them ever pretended that they did.

She knew the looks of disdain they’d sent her way – those were familiar, even if they made her blood boil – she knew the looks of mockery – the world was full of looks like that and she’d first learned how to retaliate – but only now had she fully understood their looks of rage.

The guard captain had looked like that when she had been taunting him and she’d reveled in his frustration, in his loss of control, in his fury.

And then she learned that those looks did not usually change to seething anger and bitterness.  No, they usually changed to glee and satisfaction because when someone wounded you, you lashed out.  And when words stopped working, you moved to fists.  And worse.

She didn’t want to see the Irregulars’ faces change to satisfaction.  To glory in her downfall.  Gavin was perhaps the only one who wouldn’t, but he was weary of her, she knew that, she had seen it in his face when he’d first stepped to the bars of her cell.  She was just another burden on his back.

Janiya slowly shook her head no.  She wasn’t going to ask for anyone.  Not to let it become just another thing to hold over her head.

Some of the bitterness washed out of Darin’s face.  “You will need to hold still,” he said, “Can you do this?”

Can you do it on your own? was the question, or do I have to get someone to hold you down?

Janiya’s shake of the head yes was perhaps a bit vehement – her lips throbbed viciously with the movement.

“Okay,” Darin said. He was holding a cotton ball soaked in something chemical.  “This is going to sting a bit.” 

Janiya kept her face very, very still.

It stung.  It made the throbbing increase in places.  But she breathed in and out, slowly, carefully, and the burning began to fade.  Darin finished dabbing the puncture wounds and returned to his kit.  This time, he came back with a pair of scissors.

She held still as he gently grasped her chin with rough fingers.  She focused on the feel of it, the calluses against her skin, his thumb on her cheek, as the scissors wavered in her vision.

She tried not to look at it. She stared straight, at Darin, at his forehead, locks of dark hair sweeping across, at his eyes, dark brown, fixed on her lips, pupils contracting slightly –

She felt the scissors close.  A tiny bit of tension released at the corner of her lip.  She almost flinched, but viciously buried the urge. 

Another cut.  Her face was quivering with the effort to be still. Her hands lay in her lap, useless and trembling.

A snip.  The cold edge of the scissors brushed inflamed skin and she nearly startled. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She was surprised Darin couldn’t hear it.

“You’ll never believe who came to the house today,” Darin said, and Janiya almost raised her eyebrows, startled, but remembered before she set her lips on fire.  She tried to impart her confusion through her stare. The snip had gone unnoticed.

“Ivy’s sister,” Darin said. It was clear he didn’t need any response from her to continue the tale.  He wasn’t looking at her, focused on his task.  Janiya wasn’t sure if he was actually talking to her, but she couldn’t turn her head to see if anyone else was in the room.

“Not her biological sister,” Darin continued and Janiya seized the words as a distraction.  He kept cutting, a snip coming every few seconds.  “One of the girls at the orphanage.  One of the older ones.

“So Ivy was apparently always the troublemaker she is now.  Getting into scrapes and picking fights with gangs.  Meredith – Ivy’s sister, she was the one in charge of patching her up.

“Meredith runs the orphanage now.  That was good to hear.  When Ivy ran away, it was a bad place.  Meredith wasn’t too forthcoming on what changed, but Ivy’s happy that it’s better now.” Janiya felt the scissors cut another thread, a third of her lips free.  She was listening to the story, but she was acutely aware that this was the first time any of them had told her anything about their lives.

Why would they?  When she’d mocked and sneered at them for everything else.

She hadn’t even known Ivy had grown up in an orphanage.  She hadn’t known she’d run away.  Darin spoke so easily about it but Janiya didn’t even know its name.  Or where it was.

Another cut and the pain in her lips tore further at the wound in her heart.  She tried not to blink, in the hopes that her watery eyes would subside, but they didn’t.  She felt water pooling in her eyes and dripping down her cheek.  Slowly, achingly slowly, it traced a trail down her face.

“Meredith was asking for some funds to help the orphanage – she was going around to all the houses here – and luckily Rita stopped Ivy before she signed away all our money.” Darin gave no indication that he knew she was crying, even though she could feel the tear brushing his thumb. More followed as she blinked, tracing other trails down her face as she tried not to sniffle.  Something was growing in her throat, choking her.

“But Ivy made a sizable donation and she decided to take it upon herself to hold a fundraiser – Meredith looked a bit taken aback, but in a fond way, like she was reminiscing.”  Her next breath was ragged but Darin didn’t hesitate in his work.  Half of her lips free, half her face relaxing against the unnatural stiffness. 

“First she wanted to hold a car wash, and then a bake sale, and then a walkathon.  Then Fei suggested a circus or carnival and Ivy fell in love with that idea.

“I think she’s trying to combine all the ideas, but I’m not sure.  She wanted me to be a trapeze artist,” Darin wrinkled his nose at the thought and Janiya’s lips twitched (three quarters free) as she suppressed a smile.  “I told her I’d be a knife thrower instead, but then she said that would be a bad example to set for the kids.”

There was only a little bit of string left, a section of tautness at the right corner of her lips and Janiya was suddenly seized with the impulse to be free, to wrench her mouth open, to scream the way she’d been unable to before.

“Which is hypocritical,” Darin said, “Because first of all, Ivy is a bad example to children everywhere.  And secondly, a trapeze artist isn’t?  So showing kids how to throw knives is bad, but watching someone dance on a wire in midair is fine?”  Janiya took a deep breath and suppressed the urge, keeping her face perfectly still until Darin snipped the last few stitches free. 

Her lips separated, numb and throbbing and trembling.  She hadn’t stopped crying – she touched a hand to her cheek and was startled to discover that it was wet.  Darin hadn’t said a word.

He had turned to his kit again, putting away the scissors and coming back with a pair of tweezers. Something in her shrank away from the sight.

“Are there any more stitches?” he asked, his tone unchanged, and she realized abruptly that the story had been for her.

She shook her head and, when he kept staring, tried out a word.  “No,” she said hoarsely, the word quiet.  Her lips still hurt.  They still throbbed when she tried to move them, points of pain flaring into existence.

“I’m going to have to remove the thread,” he said, “It will feel…unpleasant.”

It had been unpleasant going into her fucking skin, she had no expectations it would feel any differently coming out.

She was wrong.  It felt worse.

~#~

Part 3.

#whump #whumpfic #janiya #arc: stitches #stern but caring caretaker #stitches #unravel #aftermath #lips sown shut #request fill

[ethandigby]

『 LANDON LIBOIRON ❙ GENDERQUEER 』 ⟿ looks like ETHAN DIGBY is here for THEIR SECOND year as a VISUAL ART GRAD student. HE is 27 years old & known to be DEDICATED, HONEST, STUBBORN & PESSIMISTIC. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ drew. twenty-two. est. he/him. ethan’s pinterest

trivia:

he really likes white cholate & hot chocolate, often eating handfuls of white chocolate baking discs regardless of the time of day. 

visual art major --- tends to stray towards sculptures and installation pieces, though he does have a love for bob ross style landscape pieces. draws a lot of inspiration from older art, and many of his pieces are designed to look worn-out and as though they are missing pieces. 

perpetually exhausted --- for all his love of schedules, he has never managed to consistently get enough sleep and though he loves tea, that never seems to have enough of an impact to truly wake him up ---- a.k.a he is a yawn prone little fuck

doesn’t quite believe the local legends, though he doesn’t dismiss them outright either. the statue by wishing tree has, however, made it into several of his works ---- statues seem to have her facial features without him ever meaning to and he will swear to anyone that asks that in sophomore year of his bachelor’s degree he woke up one morning to her face staring at him from amongst the trees on a painting he had been working on. he will hesitantly add that it’s possible that he had just been thinking of her while half asleep, though ethan doesn’t really believe that

currently working as a TA for some of the freshman art classes, as well as overseeing the use of the different art studios from time to time. 

doesn’t believe in labels --- and that’s corny as hell, but he just wants to be able to be whoever he is in the moment and has had some harsher reactions when he uses umbrella terms, so he just refuses to label himself. relationship-wise it’s a whole different issue, he floats from one major relationship to another and often times will cycle back to one that’s already gone sour. 

has recently started going to a therapist to talk about some of the issues he has processing emotions and his fear of change ---- it’s been helping but he’s still very much on the verge of flight mode and will run away from situations that demand any real sort of emotional input from him on occasion. 

personality:

he is cynical, despite a desire to believe the best in people and the world - he has seen too much of the darker side of the world to ever truly believe it ---- this is reflected not only in his interactions with people ( he is open about expressing doubt and disbelief, he won’t believe a word you say, and he overanalyzes promises / invitations / declarations of love ) but also in his art and aesthetic which veers towards the dark and damned, a lot of his work is themed around broken things

stubborn as a mule ---- once he gets an idea in his mind, it can be hard to change his mind with logical arguments though an emotional appeal will have a better chance ---- he’s very set in his ways and struggles with questioning why things are the way they are, insisting that somethings should just be. loathes change and isn’t afraid to express this dislike --- tends to eat the same foods, wear the same clothes, go to the same places ---- despite a childhood dislike of routine, he finds it comforting nowadays, it feels safe.

loyal as all hell, you can hurt him a million times and he will still struggle to walk away and a genuine apology will win him back in an instant. he struggles to cut ties, even with those that he knows aren’t the best for him and has only successfully done so when it is possible for him to do so in a swift and permanent way. in most cases, he will eventually find his way back to those that he knows. 

friendly but not overly so --- he has no issue approaching people if he needs something, but he’s not generally one to approach you just to “chat” b/c he’s not big on small talk in general and honestly? he’d never say it but if he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t really give a damn how your day went or how you feel about the weather or current events. if he drinks, he becomes a little more sociable in that matter, but that often drifts into “ethan is going to info-dump about whatever has his interest in the moment and the only way to stop him is to like physically place something in / on his mouth” territory which is a whole different level of awkward. 

backstory:

growing up in a household where routine took priority, ethan spent a long time feel stifled by his parent’s demands that everything turned out perfectly ---- the neverending need to do things at just the right time, in just the right way. it was like fitting into a sweater that was just a tad too small, wrong in a way that is hard to explain

it’s in high school that he meets a true kindred spirit in the form of his art teacher ---- he helps ethan to realize his need for freedom and self-expression, and embraces his abilities in a way that he had always been afraid to. it’s a change that his parents are disapproving of, trying to reroute their son’s future to one of the paths that they would have approved of. but for once, he allows himself to rebel.

and after graduation, he leaves. running to new york, where he throws himself into the art scene head first without any real plans. for two years, he works multiple jobs as he cycles through sketchy roommates in his shitty apartment and equally shitty life partners, trying to discover things about himself that he hadn’t known before.

he’s still figuring some of that out, unsure of how to label his gender or his sexuality --- wishing more than anything that he could just be, a desire that he has long held onto since childhood that’s coming back to haunt them at last. 

that’s not the only thing that’s caught up with them as of late, the digby’s finally managing to track him down in new york and showing up at his apartment two years after he initially ran off. they came with open minds and a burning desire to see their son do something other than work minimum wage jobs and live in run-down apartments. they were quiet and subdued in a way that they never had been.

it took six months for them to convince him to enroll in college, and he eventually chose to attend radcliffe with an undeclared major. it was far enough from his hometown that his parents couldn’t reasonably drive up too often, but close enough that he could go home if he had wanted. a three-hour drive in the best traffic.

the distance proved to be the right amount --- though his parents certainly seemed to pop up over the first three months with containers of food and worries that their child would have run off, they eventually learned to trust him. and slowly, the wounds healed ---- ethan wouldn’t say that they’re close but they’ve learned to respect each other’s boundaries.

and he’s never seen them more proud than at graduation, except maybe when he told them that he was going to apply to grad school. it wasn’t the path that they had planned for ethan, but they had learned to be enthusiastic about his success, about his dreams and about his art.

doing his master’s degree - it’s been weird. being here is weird for him in general, he still misses new york even though it was a whole different kind of existence ---- he misses the stability of going to work everyday and being completely independent. here, he has to rely on his professors and classmates, he has people that expect him to check in with them and there’s more socialization --- mostly because he’s been trying to do better with that. 

connections:

good / bad influence: okay so traditionally, i think these would be separate connections but i think in this case, it’s more convoluted than that. for all of ethan running away from the environment his parents made, he’s very much stuck to those rules and expectations --- i would love for someone to start to break him out of that --- encourage him to party and drink and live life, and it doesn’t all have to be bad, it can be good too. you know, them bringing him to parties and him learning actually valuable lessons from it --- idk open to talking about their potential influence on each other, i think it could be fun

frenemies ( onesided or not ): i think a lot of ethan’s trust issues are a projection mechanism because he knows that in some ways that he can’t be trusted --- so i wld love for someone who they act like best friends when they’re together and then ethan just ... talks smack about them and doesn’t keep their secrets ( and maybe they do the same?? ) 

exes ( of all types / genders / whatever ): this one, my dear ethan, has gotten around a bit --- maybe they hooked up and now it’s awkward ---- maybe they dated for a while and keep circling back to each other despite knowing that they’re bad for each other ( a la unmiss you by clara mae ) ---- maybe they dated for a while and now they never talk so when they do see each other it’s just ... awkward as hell ---- open to literally anything with this one guys

art buddies: just two pals, palling around --- only prerequisite is that your character has some sort of interest in an art ( writing, theatre, music, film, etc etc ) --- and hey maybe they don’t get along but they put up a united front against the STEM majors who mock their choices in major? 

other: open to discussing dormates, coworkers, current love interests and literally anything else that you can think of --- does your character need someone over 21 to buy them alcohol? call ethan. for real tho, hit me up and let’s come up with some stuff!

#radintro #i refuse to make this longer by introducing myself hi i'm drew

[nvrcixv]

a narcissa black intro post

( milena tscharntke, eighteen, cis-female ) my goodness, is NARCISSA BLACK back? it’s been a while since the PUREBLOOD has been around the castle, but I’d recognize HER anywhere. rumor has it the FIFTH YEAR spent the years aligned with the NEUTRALS. but I hear they’re still DUTIFUL & ELEGANT and SEVERE & CONTRADICTORY. and the SLYTHERIN still reminds me of a mist of overwhelming perfume, the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence, the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum, a lump catching in a dry throat, an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting, and lips plump with an unnatural red. well, then, I guess some things never change.

hey,  hey,  you guys! i’m alex and i’ll be bringing narcissa here. i’ve been rping on tumblr for a long time, marauders era has always been my favorite.  i have a lot of passion for strong, bad bitches, they’re my jam. so i’m excited to play ice queen narcissa. i’m down for all sorts of plots, especially stuff that springs up organically. mostly because i’m a terrible, disorganized mess of a planner. i’m a bartender, so weekends can get busy for me, but lbr i’m always lurking on mobile.

you can contact me on here in those dms, or my discord is @ alex //#7484

character inspiration: sansa stark (got), eleanor young / astrid leong-teo (crazy rich asians), amy march (little women)

check out her ( pinterest )

whelve: (v.) to bury something deep; to hide

the positive (+): dutiful, elegant, meticulous, thoughtful, subtle, self-assured, immovable, proud, practical

the negative (-): severe, contradictory, deceitful, vengeful, cold, bitter, haughty, petty, narcissitic

aesthetic inspiration: a mist of overwhelming perfume; the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence; the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum; a lump catching in a dry throat; an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting; lips plump with an unnatural red; the gentle clink of pearls; lipstick smudged on the lip of a teacup; thickly gilded frames; delicate fingers brushing aside wisps of hair; pointed heels abandoned at the bottom of a staircase; forced laughter through painted lips; a paintbrush gliding over a crisp canvas; skirts skating over cream-colored thighs; half filled decanters; a thorn pricking an unsuspecting fingertip; the slow build of a concerto; hedges cut to blunt perfection

your girl’s eyeliner is sharp as knives, lips red as bluuud, nails filed to perfection, heart cold, and her smile sweet enough to eat.

you’ve heard it before, narcissa is stone cold. the world could be tumbling around her and this blonde would remain  unshaken.  she is a proud and stalwart figure in the face of chaos. she’s rather good in a crisis, she has to be with a family like her’s and in these dark days. many imagine her to be weak, a simple creature meant for beautiful things. the wilting flower of the black family tree. at one time she might have been, but those who know her properly know her to be someone to look towards in uncertainty.

but she is also a hopeless romantic gone to rot. she is distant, as untouchable as a masterpiece in the museum that is her picture perfect life. a thing more suitable for admiration than intimacy. she is cold, stoic, and strong, but also lonely.

there is a feeling that no matter your connection to narcissa, that no matter your efforts, there is always something hidden within that she is keeping to herself. and it’s true. there is nothing narcissa would willingly show that she didn’t want people to see.

she insecure and stressed about public image like that.

she is also haughty.  

if there’s anything her cousin has taught her, to bloom is to die. she pictures his  escape   and subsequent increase in happiness to be the height of abandonment, of betrayal. how dare he go one to enjoy things without her! how dare he leave. how dare he leave her wanting and missing and heartbroken. she truly misses him and yet goes to great lengths to never reveal her secrets, instead giving her true feelings the form of petty anger and feigned indifference.

the family she’d been proud to be a member of, is crumbling to ash with this war. but if anyone were to care enough to ask, she is grateful for her lot in life. a smile always quick to slide into place, polished and content for the pre-destined plan.

with her current family a shambles, she is afraid to even think of putting together a new family, the arranged marriage in her future is as terrifying as it is inevitable. she feels as though she will lose everything, her family name, the constant presence of her sisters, and her childhood.  it feels like a demotion in title and status after all the notoriety that comes with being a  black.  not to mention her own parents suffering remains fresh as a wound, she can’t imagine she shall ever be happy. why should she be?  indoctrinated as she is, she has eyes.  everything she has witnessed could never be called ideal, as much as it was framed that way. while hope is not her strong suit, narcissa is very capable of love

it’s not often used to describe her, but narcissa is rather selfless and giving towards her loved ones. it’s a redeeming quality that is almost enough to counteract her many failings as a more acceptable version of a kind person. she does, in fact, love and wants to be loved in return.

her removal from hogwarts had been a frightening prospect, as it put a big wrench in the plans that had been set out for her. she was too young and with her education incomplete all meant she was able to put off her marital duties off for the time being

with the last two years open to her, narcissa was quick to move to france to study abroad at beauxbatons. the move was good for her. freeing. the separation from her family allowed the growth of some independence and the fostering of her own interests. she was fully immersed in paris’ culture, language, food, and beauty.

as a lover of  all things immaculate, a seeker of perfection, narcissa is enamored with art. she already has amassed a collection that could rival the lourve, and often travels to find new additions. it’s a lifestyle only the sickeningly wealthy could afford. the high art, port wine and lavish hotels in distant locations are her own form of escape. the one bright spot in the dreariness that the war has driven all of london into. but “a golden cage is still a cage” and her happiness often fades the moment it comes

she’s an amateur painter herself, talented and content with the process of painting the perfect picture, figuratively and literally. but this is a secret ambition. the act unsuitable and beneath a lady such as herself. there is too much mess. stains, dyed fingertips and an acrid smell. as beautiful as the end result might be, her parents would surely disapprove of the mess she’d make to get there. so like everything else, she hides the messy parts away. it’s not much of a rebellion, but it’s as much as she’s capable of at the moment. her family just means more to her than what she sees as selfish wants rather than the productive creativity and voice to her thoughts that she really needs.

tw child abuse: her childhood was as fraught with abuse as the next black. intelligence was punishable, sharp wit was always met with a slap to rattle her teeth.

her worth was reduced to image and status from the beginning. the cruel parenting taught her to close her lips and open her eyes more. she is observant, and thoughtful. her taste impeccable and judgement rather quick.

narcissa is both good and bad in many ways. love to hate or hate to love her, she’s an anti-villian

tl;dr; narcissa a bitch but like?? the kind you would be begging to step on you

connections:

girl gang – give her all the best friends. the nicole to her paris. soul sisters. ovaries before brovaries. hymen heroines. those hoes she lives and breathes for. i think typically this would be fellow slytherins or ppl that she met through pureblood high society connections. OPEN  

ex-boyfriend/girlfriend – ew this makes me sad and emotions are hard to deAL. basically this will be all angst city. most likely narcissa would be the one to break things off since she usually caves to that familial pressure. depending on how their relationship was, she could regret it or be cold about it. or maybe they were using her? i could see either ( or both! gasp ) working. OPEN

rival/frenemies – these two are just too similar to get along. toxic pureblood society has pitted them against each other and no one is winning. okay but if they went from enemies, to reluctant respect, to almost friends?? MAYBE EVEN FRIENDS EVENTUALLY?? i would be here for it asdlk  OPEN

confidante – narcissa isn’t honest with anyone, not even herself. but this could be someone that she’s probably known for a long time who she possibly could’ve opened up to in a weak moment and now they’re bonded forever. she would feel indebted to this person for keeping her secrets and would do her best to protect them any way that she could. extra feelings if this person feels the same way and they can be sad, but also cLOSE, together. OPEN

secret school friend – maybe they were forced partners as prefects or a fateful potions class but narcissa found herself making a surprising friend in an unexpected place. they spoke for years and she couldn’t help admiring their persistence despite her reluctance and occasional snobbery. but now they’re older and she really should cut things off. for whatever reason, she just can’t let go. OPEN

banter partner – alright so this would be someone from the other side of the war that narcissa runs into all the time and they always seem to get into arguments! she’s not quite sure why they get under her skin but narcissa finds it difficult to step away from their confrontations. OPEN

muse – listennnn. this person would be someone that narcissa would just be enamored with, she would regard them very highly and make efforts to speak with them and be around them. if this person were on the other side of the war she would probably resent them a little but be unable to resist.  i’ll probably just spring this on somebody tbh?? since the relationship would be based on her own tastes. but this would be someone that narcissa would admire for their appearance– sure, but also for the aura that they project.

but yes!! promo over, thanks for reading loves! can’t wait to write with you all!

#thq intro #* ∘⡊ ☾ ˚⊹ ι ωαηт тσ gινє уσυ мσяє. вυт ησт єνєяутнιηg. уσυ ∂ση’т ηєє∂ єνєяутнιηg. ⊹ — { about }