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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

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Sweet Little Love.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Lil Angst

Warnings: brief mention of violence

Requested: nope

Summary: The Y/L/Ns are a well-off family in New York, and are good friends with Sam Wilson. One day Y/N is threatened by a stalker and needs a bodyguard, so Sam suggests Bucky. Bucky doesn't want to do it; the last thing he wants is to deal with a spoiled, bratty rich girl for a whole month. The only thing is, Bucky has terribly misjudged her and now he can't help falling in love with her.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! the last scene is just a small bonus crack!scene sjsjsjs lmao, enjoy!

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If there was one type of person Bucky liked, it was someone who was kind, polite, helpful and caring… and Bucky knew the person he was going to work for was going to be none of those things. "Sam, come on, man, I don't want to do this," Bucky groaned as he followed his best friend down the street. "I already promised, Bucky."

"Why did you?! I don't want to spend my whole day around spoiled little brats, they're the worst!" Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, number one: You have to look after only one person and number two: Why don't you just meet her once? Then you can decide for yourself, how about that?"

Bucky had been hired by one of Sam's friends, Mr Y/L/N, as a bodyguard for his daughter. He didn't know the daughter at all; but the one thing he was sure about was that she was going to be a pain in the ass for him, like in every single movie about rich girls and bodyguards. Mouthy, petty, sassy, rude…

He was in no mood to deal with someone like that.

Ms Y/L/N, he assumed, had been sent some threats over a week ago by a stalker and so the poor father was worried sick as he frantically searched for bodyguards. Sam was also informed and before he knew it, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was hired. To be honest, the Y/L/Ns were paying a lot so… since he had given up Avenging, the income would be great.

Plus, she only needed protection for around a month or so. Speaking of the daughter, how old was she even going to be? Maybe a child below 10? A rebellious teenager? Who knows? "Alright, stop here. She's supposed to be here somewhere, let me call Y/L/N." Bucky huffed and looked around the crowded streets as Sam contacted the father.

That's when his eyes landed on a lady. She was beautiful; wearing what looked like a tennis skirt and a university hoodie, along with sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a braid and she had a bright smile on her face. Bucky blinked twice and watched. Her body or clothes didn't catch his attention, but her actions sure did.

She was chatting with another, older woman who had coffee spilled all over her white tee. The young lady was holding a baby in her arms, bouncing the sweet child as the older woman hurriedly tried to clean her clothes. Through his super-soldier hearing, he caught their conversation. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this," the woman sighed.

"It's okay, ma'am, you are not a bother. You were clearly in need of help and you know how New York is…" Both women giggled. The older woman soon left with her child but the young lady continued standing there, looking around, as if waiting for someone. Probably a boyfriend, Bucky thought.

"Why is he not picking up?!"

Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam before looking over at the pretty lady again, who had started bouncing back and forth on her heels, glancing everywhere. That's when a loud wail echoed above the already busy street. The lady's eyes snapped towards the voice before she took off running towards a little boy who had tripped over.

The little kid was blond and scrawny, reminding Bucky of a little Steve. He smiled fondly at the memory. "Are you hurt, bubba?" Y/N asked the kid adoringly as she helped him stand. The boy's lower lip wobbled as he tried to hold his tears in but was unsuccessful. "Aw, come here…" Bucky gulped when the lady got on her knees and hugged the child.

She's so kind.

The kid hugged back just as eagerly, sobbing into her shoulder. Soon, two adults approached her; a gay couple, the parents of the kid. They, too, watched with appreciation as the lady easily calmed the kid down with her soothing presence. An involuntary smile bloomed on Bucky's face; if he was in that kid's position, he'd have stopped crying too. The lady was wonderful.

"Thank you so much, honey," one of the men grinned when the lady stood up, dusting her knees and giving the kid a smile. "Oh, it's not a problem! You know what?" She dug around in her purse and pulled out a lollipop. "I always have some on me. I'm a big fan. You?" The boy giggled and eagerly accepted the candy.

"Steve, what do you say?"

Bucky almost laughed. The kid's name was also Steve? Amazing! "Thank you!" Steve exclaimed with a bright smile, making the lady laugh. "No problem! Have a good day!" She waved at the family of three before returning to her original place, standing outside a café. Bucky was enamored at this point.

"Any luck?" he drawled, glancing at Sam who shook his head. "That dick," he grumbled under his breath and Bucky grinned, getting back to watching the pretty lady but she was nowhere to be found. He looked around until he saw her crossing the road, an old man holding her arm with one hand as the other held his walking cane.

She was on his side of the street now, just a few feet away from him. "You are an angel, darling," the old man crooned as he patted her cheek, letting go of her arm once he was safely on the other side. An angel indeed, Bucky smiled to himself. "Oh, sir, I try…" she spoke bashfully, turning in his direction as the man left.

Bucky quickly averted his gaze, he didn't want to look like a creep. "Sam? Sam, is that you? Wilson!" Bucky froze at the lady's voice, her footsteps nearing the place where he and Sam were standing. Wait, is that...? Sam looked away from his phone, eyes lighting up as they landed on the lady. "Y/N? When did you arrive?" Bucky watched as they hugged.

"Been here for a long time, dad said you were going to introduce me to my bodyguard today. He's a good friend of yours, right?" Sam turned and motioned towards Bucky. He stepped forward. "Hi, I'm James Barnes," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. He couldn't believe he had called this angel a spoiled, rich brat.

I'm never gonna forgive myself.

"James, nice to meet you! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Thanks for doing this, I'm probably going to be a burden—" He immediately shook his head. "Oh, no no no, don't say that! I can tell we're going to be good friends." He winked and she couldn't help but giggle. Bucky didn't even correct her on the name, something about the way she said it made a shiver run down his spine.

"Well, um, do we start now, or…?"

"Your choice," he interrupted, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat as he stared at her, heart swelling with affection. "I already feel safe," she half-joked, "Start now. I have a few places to go to…" He was ready to follow her to Hell and back. "Of course." Both of them turned to Sam, who had a knowing smirk on his face.

If it were anyone else Bucky would've given him his infamous glare but Y/N? He was hoping for a connection. "You two enjoy your date— I mean, day. Anyway, what's up with your dad, girl, he's not picking up my calls." Bucky rolled his eyes at the slip up. "He's not? Maybe he's in a meeting. If you want you can go visit."

"Gonna do just that, tell him that his precious little daughter is in safe hands." Y/N looked at Bucky with a huge smile. "No doubt about that! It's getting late, I'll see you later!" Y/N started walking away and Bucky immediately followed with a nod towards Sam. "Hey, um, I saw you, you know?" he blurted out.

"Saw me? Doing what?" Y/N blinked. "You helping the lady with the child, the kid who tripped over— Steve, his name was? And the old man you helped cross the street. I just wanna say that was amazing. You're a great person, Y/N, I'm honored to be your bodyguard." She gasped softly and looked away, chewing her bottom lip as she grinned, cheeks heating up.

"Oh, um, it's just— I like to help people. It's how my parents raised me. Yeah, we might be rich but I'm not spoiled. Lots of people think that when I tell them I'm Mr Y/L/N's daughter. It hurts sometimes, you know? People just assume anything about you without even knowing you. That's why I try to be good. I don't want to be a bad person," she rushed out, unconsciously voicing all her insecurities.

Bucky's heart sank in his chest as he let out a dry chuckle. "Ugh, just saying this is gonna make me throw up but I assumed that too. I thought I was gonna work with a spoiled, rich brat. I was horribly, horribly wrong, I hope you can forgive me, doll." She turned to him, but she wasn't mad in the slightest. She even started getting a tiny crush on him, I mean, hey, the man is eye-candy. "It's fine! I forgive you, you didn't know."

"No, it's not fine. I shouldn't have made assumptions, I feel like the biggest ass in the world," he scoffed, looking away from her. "James, please, it's okay. You know now, right? Don't feel bad! Why don't we stop for a coffee on the way?" How could he say no to that?

---

2 weeks passed. Y/N and Bucky became incredibly close friends; Bucky went as far as revealing the truth about himself, how he used to be an Avenger, how he lost his arm, everything. What he didn't expect was her to cry at his story. "You did not deserve to go through that, they did you so dirty…" she sniffled and he hugged her like his life depended on it. It kinda did.

God, if he didn't fall in love the first time they met, he was definitely in love now. "Doll, I'm here now, aren't I? All good— well, maybe not all good." And his face broke into the biggest grin ever when he heard a chuckle from her. "I'm glad you're here." Just those 4 words and Bucky vowed that he was never gonna let her go.

"I'm getting coffee, you wait here. Don't go anywhere else."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Y/N laughed and he smiled back as he entered the café. Y/N stood outside, typing away on her phone when someone suddenly grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her into the alley next to the café. She couldn't even scream, breathing was difficult with his hand around her neck.

"We finally meet, sweetheart." Oh, God, it was him. The stalker. Y/N whimpered, struggling to get out of his arms but he only tightened his hold on her. Bucky, Bucky please— Over time, Y/N had grown fond of Bucky. He still asked her to call him James, he said it felt good when she called him that. So she did.

He was so protective of her, almost like she was his girlfriend. He was also handsome; incredibly so, with his stormy blue eyes, his tall and broad figure and razor sharp jaw. His first priority was always her and it made her warm inside. She'd decided to ask him out at the end of the month, but it was looking a bit difficult now.

"Your bodyguard not with you today? What happened, lover's quarrel?" the man smirked tauntingly as Y/N's vision blurred due to lack of oxygen. She blinked back tears, crying again when he tightened his hold on her neck. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, no one's gonna hear it," he laughed.

"Try me."

The man's head whipped to the side only for Bucky's metal fist to connect with his jaw. He fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious at the first punch. Y/N slid down to her knees. Her hands went to her neck, coughing and dry heaving. "Doll? Doll, come here." Bucky felt immense guilt as he gathered her in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his car.

He left her alone. That was the one thing he wasn't supposed to do. "James…" Y/N wheezed, curling closer to him when he tried to put her in the backseat. "Doll, you have to get in," he insisted but she shook her head. "Not without you. Please." Bucky sighed and got into the backseat, holding Y/N against his chest.

She was pretty shaken up. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He felt himself tearing up. "No… not your fault… you… coffee… I wasn't… phone…" Bucky handed her a bottle of water when she wheezed again. "Drink up, baby," he whispered as he held the bottle to her lips because she refused to let go of his sweater. After drinking some water her throat felt better.

"Don't go, please, I need you," she sobbed as she completely curled against him, wetting his sweater as she cried in his arms. "You will always have me, doll. I'm not going anywhere. Not again," he assured her as he rubbed her back, wiping his own tears away. All of a sudden, she pulled away and pressed her lips to his. "I love you."

He pulled her in for another kiss, fireworks exploding in his head at the confession. Only two weeks had passed but they were both sure about their feelings. "I love you too, doll. You're mine now, only mine," he groaned against her lips. "Only yours," she agreed, burying her face back in his shoulder as he pulled her impossibly close.

"You're not getting out of my sight ever again."

And he kept his promise.

---

"And then I— where do you think you're going?" Sam blinked as Bucky abruptly stood up, eyes trained on his wife. She gave him a smile and walked out of the room, Bucky following her out like a puppy. "To the bathroom, Sam!" Y/N called out behind her and Sam turned to the parents, blinking in confusion as they roared with laughter.

"Why does she need him there?" Sam asked "Oh, haven't you heard? Bucky hasn't broken the promise he gave Y/N 6 years ago," Mrs Y/L/N explained vaguely. "What promise?" Mr Y/L/N laughed once more. "He told her she was never getting out of sight after the incident. And well…" Y/N and Bucky returned at the exact time as Sam made a face.

"Don't you get tired of him?" Sam groaned as Bucky sat down, pulling his wife on his lap. "Oh no no, it helps that she's as much in love with him as he is with her. They do not get tired of each other," Mrs Y/L/N shook her head with a fond smile. "It helps that he's handsome and aesthetically pleasing to look at," Y/N crooned, squishing her husband's cheeks as he laughed and swatted her hands away.

"Even in the bathroom?!"

"He stands outside as a guard," she shrugged. "Damn. Y'all are weird," Sam muttered, barely catching the book Bucky threw towards him. "Not weird. Just looking out for her, like I promised," he muttered, cheeks flushing. "You do know that the threat was 6 years ago, right? Six!" Sam threw his hands up.

"What if there's a new one?" Bucky countered exasperatedly. Sam only shook his head at the couple before a smile broke out on his face. "I've never seen a couple so in love. You two are cute," he commented as laughter filled the room. No more threats, no more danger.

Just a sweet little family and their sweet little love.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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chrenq · 3 years

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the tragedy of hawkfrost's character

hey! i personally think it's pretty funny that my first ever tumblr textpost is about hawkfrost of all cats but hey, i've had this analysis on my mind for a while now so i thought i'd share. me spending hours on warriors tumblr was all building up to this moment lmao

i will stress though!! i am not justifying hawkfrost's actions and manipulative tactics. now that that's clear.. to talk about hawkfrost, i have to compare him to his parallel first; his brother, brambleclaw. so firstly, let's review- what's the basis of hawkfrost and brambleclaw's parallels? what is their dynamic and story together boiled down the the most BASIC explanation possible? and why does this make hawkfrost's tale inherently sadder than the " dark expectations that he breaks free of, becomes a hero " story of brambleclaw? they are parallels because they have the same tyrannous, murderous cat for a father, but brambleclaw is the one to turn away from the darkness and walk back to the light. his brother hawkfrost, on the other hand, fails to do so, and as any ambitious brown tabby of the warriors universe is, is banished to the dark forest for his unforgivable crimes against the clans.

but look at it this way; there was SO much wasted potential. SO MUCH. and today i'm here to explain why so sit back and grab your popcorn because this is gonna be a long one-- why is brambleclaw able to return to the " good side " anyway? it's because of the positive influences in his life. his affectionate and protective ( and CRIMINALLY underrated ) mother goldenflower, the stubborn but passionate squirrelflight, and brambleclaw's brutally honest yet fiercely caring sister tawnypelt. and let's not forget firestar as well, his mentor and the one who influences him the most in his youth; it was, after all, firestar that ended up mentoring bramblepaw to be a good and righteous cat despite his dark bloodline. it's pretty poetic in itself, how firestar himself starts off mistrusting of bramblekit but ends up being the greatest positive influence in his life, but then again, i'm getting off track, so back to my main point.

what is brambleclaw thinking as he refuses his father and hawkfrost's wishes to murder firestar? wasn't it something around the lines of " i can't do this, this is my leader, my former mentor, and i care about him because he cared and cares about me? " ultimately it's his respect and admiration for the cat who tried to see the best in him that turns him around in the face of disaster. but what about hawkfrost? ( this is mostly inference based on heavy evidences as i have yet to read the mangas that involve his character more heavily. i have read mothwing's secret, though, so i will be referencing that. ) hawkfrost has, to be pretty honest, no one. he joins riverclan as a kit with his mother and sister, and later on sasha leaves. his mother isn't there to watch him or his sister grow. it's just him and mothwing; in a clan of cats living with a culture completely different from how they lived as loners, he is new to all this. and then again, i can't exactly say the clans ever liked outsiders all that much. he and his sister are outcasts despite technically being riverclan cats. hell, brambleclaw even brings this up during an argument with hawkfrost ( before they find out they're related, mind you ) saying hawkfrost might feel differently about the matter of territory and borders and thunderclan being driven out " if he were truly clanborn. " ouch. hawkfrost has mistyfoot, a kind and responsible mentor from what we know of her character, but it's still stressed in mothwing's novella that he still felt like an outcast / not good enough. this leads him to be furious when mothwing wants to become a medicine cat; he tells her that if she fails, starclan knows what the clans would do with a cat who wasn't committed enough to being a warrior and wasn't good enough to be a medicine cat. he is terrified, perhaps, of losing all they have worked for; he makes up for being non clanborn by being vicious, and working tirelessly, soon establishing himself as the strongest riverclan warrior. but emotionally, again i state, he has nobody. he was twisted his relationship with his sister, the only family he has, into a mangled mess of lies and deceit and mistrust. and that's on him. it also explains why he runs to tigerstar with so much eagerness. this is the father he never got to meet, the father he always admired but never knew. and tigerstar is giving him exactly what he craves; attention and recognition. like i said, hawkfrost is a terrible cat but in dawn, he and brambleclaw have a conversation that ends with brambleclaw: " i learned more from firestar than i ever did from tigerstar. " hawkfrost: " but still, tigerstar knew you. he never even set eyes on me. " now, asshole or not, tell me that isn't at least a little tragic. all hawkfrost's life he has had to work and fight for attention and appreciation, and here is the father he always longed for, praising him in the dark forest. in the tigerstar and sasha mangas, tigerstar also promises he loves his kits ( moth and hawk ) and will watch over them always. so here it is. the only " good " influence in hawkfrost's life? the cruel, heartless monster that is his father. finally a cat loves him just for being there, but it's a murderer he never knew in life. there isn't ever a scene where brambleclaw realises he's stupid for training with vengeful daddy tigerstar in cat hell. he never snaps out of it til' the " blood will spill blood " scene. he isn't convinced, persuaded- the choice between kin, and found family and friends is forced upon him. and he choose good, obviously, being the cookie cutter character he is. ( smh all my homies hate brambleclaw ) but hawkfrost never had that chance. if they'd talked it out maybe he would've listened and gotten his priorities straight, but they don't talk- they battle their problems out. and hawkfrost dies, with the only " love " he ever experienced for most of his life being that from a manipulative father grooming him into his own failed legacy. TL;DR: brambleclaw gets TLC he doesn't deserve and hawkfrost is left to bleed out

#hawkfrost warriors #hawkfrost #hawkfrost wc #warriors spoilers #warrior cats #warrior cat #riverclan #thunderclan #brambleclaw #brambleclaw sucks btw #i am actually a hawkfrost kin and think too much about this bastard of a cat #but like??? the wasted potential????#goddamnit erins

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cravingmarvel · 4 years

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Sugar

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, stalking, just mob things

Summary: James Barnes had his eyes on you and he can’t stand things he can’t have.

A/N: lmao I don’t know what this is, don’t ask. We won’t talk about this. Just leave me BE.

Masterlist

Sugar

“Please, just give me any job, any! I’ll even clean toilets for god’s sake!”

I followed John around his office like I didn’t have any dignity left within me, but all he did was shake his head frantically. He hurried around his office collecting pieces of paper with me right on his feet. Working in John’s hardware store was the last thing I wanted to do but the options I have are running dangerously low. I was hoping that he would help me out since he’d known me since I was a child.

“I’m sorry Y/n, but I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

I had him trapped between me and his desk by now trying to get an answer out of him.

“Because he told me not to. He told me whatever You say to turn you down. For- for any job.” John said, the papers in his hands shaking. The poor man had fear written all over his face.

“Who?”

“James Barnes.”

I met my problem two months ago at my then still husband Mark’s opening celebration. He was finally opening his very own law firm, with many sponsors at his back supporting his career, one of them being James. I’ve been with Mark throughout his days in Law school, the dream of ‘Johnson Law Firm – Criminal Defence & Family Law’ set in his mind ever since he knew he wanted to become a lawyer.

Mark took my hand leading me through the room, he was introducing me to all kinds of people. Salesmen, real estate agents and dozens of entrepreneurs, all of whom he was sponsored by. This project of his was quite expensive and finding the right place and interior turned out to be difficult enough. To find the money to get it all was the cherry on top, so Mark turned to sponsors, giving them advertisements and recommending them to his clients if necessary.

“Love, this is James Barnes, the man who really made all of this possible.”

Mark took his hand away from my back stuffing it in his pocket. I looked at the man in front of me, his short hair styled back, curling slightly. The two men behind him politely nodding their heads. I took his outstretched hand in mine and smiled up at him.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes.”

Instead of shaking my hand, he turned it and kissed the back of my hand, looking into my eyes. “Oh, don’t be so formal, Darling. Just call me James.” He said while his white teeth shined bright at me. “This is Sam and Steve, my right-hand men, can’t get rid of them.”

My cheeks heated up a little, feeling slightly intimidated by the obviously rich man.

I didn’t know it then, but he seems to be the bad omen in my life.

Not long after that, Mark, the man I have been with for ten years, half of that married, divorced me. I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t take the fear in his eyes as an indication for who was behind it all. He didn’t give me enough reasons and the ones he gave me had holes in them so much so that they were almost non-existent.

I was forced to move out, an apartment outside Manhattan since that was all I could afford. I have to admit that most of the income we had was from Mark. I hadn’t lived alone since college, but the loneliness wasn’t the worst part, it was staying above the water with the money I made.

After just a few days of living in my new apartment, the worst that could happen, happened. Even the company I worked for turned their back on me, my boss, Kyle, apologizing profusely after handing me the envelope.

But it didn’t stop there, every guy I met after finding the courage to date again seemed to run away from me as soon as a second date was planned. I felt cursed, the universe had cursed me.

My life was falling to pieces.

So that’s how I ended up in John’s office, an old friend of mine. One who was refusing me a job because James Barnes told him so. My question wasn’t really why James told him so, it was rather why John listened to him.

I looked at John, realization kicking in as he mumbled his next apology, fear in his eyes once again as if I would hurt him.

“I- I have to go. Bye John, thank you.”

I knew where I needed to go and that’s where I went, storming into the lobby of Hydra & Co. right to the front desk. “Excuse me?” I said to the woman sitting in front of me, my hands clutching to the white wood. “I need to speak to Mr. Barnes immediately.”

She looked up at me, holding her other hand to the mic of her phone, her lips in a tight smile. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you up without an appointment.” She went right back to listening to the person on the other side of the line.

“Look-“ I lowered my eyes to the nametag on her blazer “Jenna, I need to speak to him right now ok?” I knew my face was bright red, my fingers clinging to the wood. “He is ruining my life and I need to speak to him!”

The poor woman started to panic, eyes growing bigger as I leaned forward, my tone and choice of words harsher than I wanted them to be. The person on the phone clearly overheard me as the woman explained to them that I was requesting to see Mr. Barnes.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

She mumbled something before hanging up the phone. “Please continue to the 46th floor.” Her smile matched her uncertain body language.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, not really focussing on the blond woman sitting at yet another desk waiting for me to speak up, but I just went straight for the big doors. I stood there for a second, raising my hand, knocking three times. I heard a faint ‘come in’ and upon opening the door I saw James sitting behind his desk.

He looked up from his computer, smiling. “It’s so nice to see you again, y/n.”

I could hardly pull myself together. He so nonchalantly welcomed me into his office as if he didn’t have a clue on why I was here in the first place. The door shut behind me making me jump.

“Please tell me what’s going on, John told me you told him not give me a job. Just tell me why? With Mark gone, I can barely hold myself up.”

There was no point in holding back what I wanted to say. I felt a little embarrassed, but I needed to clear the air, to confirm that this man I hardly knew was the reason behind my failed attempts at getting a job.

“Oh yeah, Mark. Was easy getting him out of the picture.” James rose from his seat, slowly walking around the desk. “Look, ever since seeing you at that losers opening party, I just knew I had to fight for what want.”

I felt like a little child asking for her favourite toy back. James is intimidating, very. “What do you mean get Mark out of the picture?” I tilted my head.

“Well I told him that if he didn’t divorce you, I would pull back the funding’s for his Law firm.” His mouth curled up to a twisted smile.

“So, you threatened him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a threat, let’s just call it a favour.”

“For whom?”

“For you!” James stepped closer to me. “He can’t ever give you what I can.”

I couldn’t back away, not now that he thinks he has control over my life. “You don’t love me! You just want what you can’t have!”

James stood in front of me, his breath hot on my forehead. His hand rested on my waist, squeezing it a little. He bent down, his lips grazing on my ear. “There’s nothing I can’t have, darling.”

I shoved him away with the strength I still had left. “You’re disgusting!”

James chuckled darkly as he pushed his hands in his pockets. I turned on my heels, pulling the door open without looking back. I could feel his smirk on the back of my neck, shivers running down my spine as I still felt his touch linger on my body, his breath on my ear and the soft, deep tone of his voice ringing in my head.

As I walked back to my apartment days after the “talk” I had with James, I saw the familiar car parked on the other side of the street. The two men leaning against the side of it were all too familiar too. Sam and Steve, that’s they’re names. I do recognize them from Mark’s opening party, but also because since then I see them linger around me once in a while.

I crossed the street, determined to stop this nonsense at once.

“Can you guys stop following me?” I said, crossing my arms on my chest as I stopped in front of them.

“Oh, we’re not following you. We’re protecting you.” Sam said, adjusting his sunglasses.

“From what?” I asked, my confusion making them smile.

“Well, someone trying to rob you.” Steve said.

“Hurt you.” Sam threw right back.

“Kill you.” Steve said looking at Sam.

“Why would anyone do that?”

“You’re the reason people are getting threatened left and right. The mob boss himself holding a gun in someone’s face really makes them take a step back and think about what their doing.” Steve explained.

“Urgh, and that’s my fault because?” I was confused and irritated. Why did I have to run into mobsters of all people.

This wasn’t anything like ‘Goodfellas’.

Even though having Sam and Steve on my back every day was a little irritating, I still felt a little bad. I know I shouldn’t, but I still did. I mean, their oh so busy boss is sitting behind a desk while his so-called right-hand men are outside my Apartment complex, waiting for me to do anything interesting.

So I thought the best thing to do to make all of our lives just a little more enjoyable and to also get both of the men on my side a little, I took two disposable cups, filled them with coffee and went to the car.

I looked through the driver’s seat window, Sam and Steve watching ‘The Little Mermaid’. As I knocked on the glass with my knuckle, both jumped closing the laptop.

Sam let his window down. “God you scared us.”

“Here.” I said while giggling, handing Sam the cups of coffee. “Just a little gift from me. Don’t tell your boss though.”

“Why?” Steve leaned over so I could properly see him. “Not the gift part, the boss part. Thanks!”

“Don’t want your boss to get the wrong idea.”

I knew this was a terrible idea. Not well thought out and executed within an hour. My mind was still trying to convince me to go back to my apartment. But something within me stood tall. I was called up to the woman and smiled at her.

“One ticket to Utah please.”

She typed something into the computer and proceeded to take a call while doing so. “And your name, miss?”

“Oh, Y/n y/l/n.” I looked around aimlessly waiting for her to hand me my plane ticket.

“I’m so sorry, but there aren’t any seats left.”

“What do you mean? What about first class?”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Does James Barnes have anything to do with this maybe?”

Her eyes grew big as I mentioned his name, she lowered the phone, looking at it and them back at me.

“Right.” I nodded my head, a little glad that this didn’t work out, I mean, what was I supposed to do in Utah?

Upon walking out, I was once again followed by Sam and Steve, the duo that can’t even seem to brush their teeth with separate toothbrushes.

“So, you’re not leaving?”

I dragged my suitcase behind me, huffing at Sam’s comment. It’s not like I just realized how stupid the idea was to fly to my hometown, but in the whim of a moment it did. Just for a small moment it seemed like my ticket out, but James seems to be a few steps ahead of me, his little minions right on my heels.

“No, I guess not, Sam.”

“C’mon, let us give you a ride back.” Sam stopped at the car holding the door open for me. I sat in the car with a grunt.

The car ride was plagued by silence… from me. Steve and Sam, the dynamic duo, chatted along as if nothing had happened.

“You know, Y/n, Buck isn’t that bad. He does come off as tough and scary at times but he kinda has to. As soon as he shows any weakness, people don’t take him seriously.”

“Cute.”

“Y/n… he wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t seriously like you. Deep down he’s a sweet guy, trust me.” Steve went on, but that didn’t faze me.

I started out of the window, watching the buildings pass as we approached my place.

After my attempt to flee the city, I felt a little embarrassed with myself. The poor plan I was sure made James laugh, it’s as if I could hear him laugh all the way somewhere from the outskirts of New York. I couldn’t stop myself from walking through the city asking for a job, but no one would offer me one. Some wouldn’t even let me into the building after hearing my name. New York has shut its doors.

I walked home, not missing the presence of Sam and Steve, S&S, the Bonny and Clyde of New York, my personal bodyguards around me. They were everywhere, almost knowing exactly where I was going. I was getting a little used to it.

Upon walking into the small entrance area of my apartment building, I emptied my mailbox. I knew that none of these were good news, those were very uncommon these days it seemed.

I kicked off my shoes, hung up my cardigan and went straight do the couch rubbing my feet. The regret of wearing heels swung around in my head, they make you look very professional but hurt your feet if you walk in them all day through the city.

I went lazily through the letters. Just bills, payments that were way too overdue and a letter from my landlord. That one caught my eye immediately as I haven’t had an issue with her since I moved in. She knew of my problem and welcomed me with open arms, but the letter proved otherwise.

I stumbled out of the door, down two floors, hitting a wall on my way for good measure. I knocked on her door, hearing footsteps on the other side.

“Jenna, you’re kicking me out?” I held the letter up to her face as soon as she opened the door.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I- “

“No! Tell me this isn’t the work of James Barnes.” My ears were ringing, tears prickling on the corners of my eyes. “Please.”

Jenna exhaled sharply. “He came by yesterday, threatened me, held a gun to my head, y/n- “

“Wow.” I breather out, leaning against the door frame.

“I can’t have you here, not when I have a baby to protect, I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand.” I removed myself from her door frame, smiling as best as I could. I didn’t need her to worry about me, herself and especially not her baby. The poor child doesn’t need to grow up without parents.

I walked up to my apartment. The only good thing was, that I didn’t have a lot to pack up. The things I do have were fairly light and I could ask Danny, John’s son, from the hardware store to help me move.

What was James thinking? He either loved me or wanted me to die in a ditch, I couldn’t decide. The anger bubbling within me made my blood boil. He couldn’t do this. If he really loved me like he claimed he does, then he wouldn’t have me struggling so much.

I pulled my heels back on my feet as I stumbled out of my apartment once again. I couldn’t get down the many flights of stairs without stripping and falling but I only hand one goal. The hatred I felt for James fuelled the fire in me.

I spotted Sam and Steve in the car and approached it with speed, looking left and right to avoid getting run over. I hastily slammed my palm on the window catching Sam’s attention. He rolled the window down.

“Bring me to him. James.” I held the bottom of the window with my palms, sweat collecting on my neck, my hairs sticking to it.

“He’s at home.” Sam responded as if I cared where he was.

“Well let’s go!” I climbed in the backseat and heard Sam swear under his breath.

We arrived at James’s house, or rather mansion. The white bricked mansion stood out amongst the greenery surrounding it. There were several armed men standing around the mansion, dressed in all black. As we pulled up to the front steps, right next to the rather large fountain, Sam and Steve, the dynamic duo, led me inside.

Marble on top of marble, not the cheaper kind. The one that’s so thick you couldn’t seem to break it if you tried. Sam told me exactly where to go and I didn’t waste any time, running up the stairs, turned the left corner and went straight to the end of the corridor. My feet stomping on the ground like I’m a child.

I stood in front of the heavy looking white doors. I raised my hand knocking three times. I didn’t give James any time to tell me to come in, pushing the door open. He seemed to be quite surprised as he stood up from his seat.

“How dare you?” I spoke, a little too quiet to my liking, the tears threatened to fall from my eyes and I just let them. At this point I didn’t care what he thought of me, I just needed to let go. “How dare you have me kicked out of my home? And on top of that threaten poor Jenna!”

He rounded the desk like he did when I showed up in his office. “Y/n, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

“But I don’t want to!”

I looked over to the shelve, walking over to it. Looking back and forth to the small green vase sitting atop it, back to James and back to the vase. My brows furrowed together as I took it into my hand. I looked James in the eyes, raising my hand pointing it to the wall, swinging my arm, stopping right before the impact would’ve smashed it into pieces.

James looked rather unfazed, either he didn’t care about it or he knew I couldn’t do it. I let my shoulders fall, placing the vase back on the shelve. I held my face in my hands, letting the tears falling.

I heard him coming over, but I let him. He wrapped his arms around my figure, squeezing my body softly. “Shh, it’s going to be ok.”

I pulled away from him, pushing his arms away from me. “No, it’s not going to be ok, James. If you truly loved me as much as you say you do, then you wouldn’t do this, you would want me to be happy no matter what. You would do anything to ensure my happiness isn’t ruined by your needs.”

I took a few steps away from him. “This- “ I pointed my finger to him and back to me. “- Isn’t love.”

James exhaled, turned and walked to his desk, holding onto it with his hands. “Alright… I- you just go back to your apartment, let Sam and Steve drive you, I’ll sort everything else out. Ok?”

A small smiled formed on my lips, I had done it, I convinced him. “Thank you.”

“Just know that I do love you.”

I walked out of the room skipping along the marbled floor, down the steps and out of the mansion.

6 Months later:

On my way up to my apartment I grabbed my mail along the way. As I walked in, I took everything necessary off leaving me in a tank top and my panties. It was way too hot to wear anything else. Anyone who believes climate change isn’t real should come to New York right now.

As I always do, I checked the pile of letters for anything important, so far only advertisements and… an invitation. I ripped open the envelope to reveal the letter.

We happily invite you to the engagement party of

James Buchanan Barnes & Meghan Sofie Vermont

We hope to welcome you to our home to celebrate love and happiness.

Barnes & Vermont

I couldn’t help but laugh a little, he wants me to attend an engagement party?

Ever since the day I confronted him about his wrongdoings, things finally started to look up for me again. I got my job back and felt like the city of New York had welcomed me back. I could finally breathe again. I do have to say that I miss Sam and Steve being on my backs at all times, the Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn, my own Tom and Jerry. I do miss them sometimes when I look out the window.

They did make me feel safe.

I pushed my blazer up my arms and checked my bag for any belongings I might’ve missed and walked out the door locking it for good measure. Outside, my car was already waiting for me, James really made sure to flaunt his money, having his guests picked up. The car ride was filled with nerves overflowing, I didn’t know how to feel going to that house again, but as I walked up the stairs into the lavish foyer, down into the living room and out to the garden, I was more concerned about my attire. I grabbed a flute of champagne from one of the waiters.

The guests who were scattered around the grass wearing heavy diamonds on their necks. I came across a woman wearing the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen, and she told me it was made out of Iridium, the rarest naturally occurring element. I didn’t really know what to do with that information since it just looked like plain old silver to me.

As I spotted James, he was already looking at me. I waved at him and smiled, taking a step to walk toward him as I was stopped by a woman.

“And you must be Y/n, right?” She asked and I nodded in return. “Wow, James has told me a lot about you, I’m Meghan, his soon to be wife and not so far into the future Mrs. Barnes.” She stretched her hand out to me and I shook it, trying to hide the face I wanted to make.

“God you’re so beautiful, now I know why Bucky was chasing you around.” She grinned at me and I wanted to return the complement, but she didn’t let me. “I can’t believe you rejected him, wow, I mean, you could be me right now. You could have diamonds on you neck, hands and anywhere else you want them. The finest dresses, oh Buck gifted me this absolutely amazing Givenchy dress last week. To. Die. For.”

Meghan placed her hand on my shoulder and her grip didn’t say friendship. “And this house! You could be living here right now. But the best thing you’re missing… the man, I mean. Jamesie is so wonderful, so sweet and just ugh, the biggest heart.”

I looked at her my face falling, twisting into a rather annoyed expression. I just looked over to James, talking to some guy. His grey suit and pink tie doing wonders for him.

I snapped back to Meghan as she tightened the grip on my shoulder, my hand slightly tipping, the glass with it. If she loves her Givenchy dress so much, then why isn’t she paying closer attention to it. My glass tipped fully now, the golden liquid spilling down the front of her dress.

Meghan let out a high-pitched scream and I snapped back into reality, my eyes flicking up to James who looked at me. I turned, placed the glass on a nearby table and went up the stairs, back int the living room and into the foyer.

“Stop!”

I turned as I heard the woman, the tall blonde walking over to me.

“What were you thinking? Come with me. Now!” She grabbed my arm leading me down a corridor and through some double doors revealing the kitchen. She roughly made me sit on one of the chairs at the table, walking back and forth behind me.

I just lowered my head, feeling once again, like a child. I regretted it.

“Y/n, what’s gotten into you?” James entered the kitchen and I felt my cheeks hating up. He sat down next to me and turned his body to me. The woman mumbling something about the party being ruined. “Mom, please can you leave us alone?”

I sunk lower on my seat, not wanting to be seen at all by anyone. It was a mistake coming here after all.

“Y/n, darling, why did you do that?” He placed his hand over mine, circling his thumb on the back of my hand.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

James took his other hand softly holding my jaw, turning my face to him. “This isn’t you. I’ve seen you being angry, but you never did any harm to anyone or anything. Despite your anger you still don’t lose your manners and knock on people’s doors.”

I knew by anything he meant the vase I wanted to smash. But he was right, completely. “I’m sorry.” The tears swelled up in my eyes. “I didn’t know what came over me. Meghan just went on and on about all the things I could’ve had and everything I’m missing out on and I just… snapped.”

“But why are you so upset about it? You knew exactly what you would give up when you told me to leave you alone, why does it bother you now?”

That was indeed a good question, why did it bother me so much. Was it the things I was upset about or the person? “Maybe… I think… Sometimes you want what you can’t have.”

James smiled. “I know exactly what that feels like.”

I couldn’t help but smile back at him. He took his hand away from mine and snaked it around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. His warm breath on my lips sent shivers down my spine and as he inched closer, he moved his hand from my jaw to the back of my neck, tangling his fingers with my hair.

James closed the distance between us, moving his lips against mine. He pulled away slightly, just inches away from me, whispering against my lips. “The difference between you and me is, there’s nothing I can’t have, Sugar.”

Fin!

#mob!bucky #mobster!bucky #Bucky Barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #mob!buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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roccinan · 3 years

Note

Hermano👀👀👀 (hopeful for new snippets)

I knew I could rely on you for that #hermanos support ;) Public shaming time asdfasdf I don't have any new snippets, but I do have more or less the whole plot of "Hermano" sketched out in my head. (Lots of spoilers below the cut!)

[ 👉 My Wips ]

It takes place directly after Hermanito AKA when Andres left the hospital 5 min. after waking up. dumbass. So we follow him and Sergio home, and Andres legit tries to act like nothing happened (the vibe: "dear diary, all the fancy restaurants are booked for Christmas parties. Maybe I could take Sergio on a ski trip. It's very hard to find gold-laced wrapping paper in this economy. If I can't find solid gold tissue paper, silver is fine too. I think Sergio would enjoy the imported chocolate I ordered for the holidays--" then in the margins, he goes, "oh yeah, we almost died the other night and I was in a coma for a week but who cares? anyway, presents-")

Andres and Sergio have completely different priorities. Which will be a Project for me because Hermano is from Andres' pov and his brain is something else. Anyway, while Andres is limping around and subconsciously projecting secret childhood trauma onto his preparations for the Perfect Christmas TM with Hermanito, Sergio's like, "hmm you don't look so well, Andres"

Eventually, Andres realizes Sergio's right because his insides shouldn't feel that way and coughing up blood isn't normal. They go to some underground street surgeon to patch him up. And Andres' delusions take a hit x1 when the guy suggests that Sergio's going to grow up to be as fucked up as him if Andres keeps raising him. (btw, no painkillers or anesthetic involved because the dude couldn't afford it LMAO- he'll be like "go buy some ibuprofen after this. I'm gonna start cutting into you now-")

Andres' delusions take a hit x2 when another of the thugs from the last story tracks him down to his shitty apartment like a day after the surgery. Andres manages to kill the guy, but not before almost dying (again). Sergio, unprompted, cleans up the blood and tells Andres how they should get rid of the body. Hit x3. Now Andres realizes maybe his idea of a perfect little life with Sergio isn't so great after all because 1) this is the second time he "failed" to protect his brother 2) maybe he's a terrible influence on Sergio after all 3) his shitty lifestyle just isn't suited for children.

But they spend Christmas together anyway, and it's the best one Andres has ever had even though they didn't get to do anything fancy.

Which is why hit x4 absolutely destroys him. Sergio falls ill again and Andres rushes him to the actual hospital (not the shady surgeon), the one he first met Sergio in. The doctor pretty much guesses Andres' entire life story at first glance and politely tells him, "hmm, I think you're a worthless nobody who's going to die from some fight on the streets. I'm disgusted by your presence already. But your little brother on the other hand, now, that's a young man with a future, if he lives lmao which he won't with you. no offense."

Since Andres has spent his entire life not listening to other people's words and building up his own delusional world, that speech shouldn't affect him. But it does because now it's not about him. It's about Sergio, the one person Andres ever cared about to this extent and the one person that truly, actually loves him back.

So Andres arranges for Sergio to be adopted by a family in Barcelona. Then he tells Sergio he doesn't want him anymore and tries to abandon him at the train station. Sergio, kid genius TM, sees right through him and doesn't get on the train. He and Andres make a really big scene there and cry a lot. Sergio makes it super clear that he's not going to Barcelona and that he wants to stay with Andres. He knows Andres doesn't think it's the best choice, he knows it's not the smartest choice, but it's what he wants. Andres didn't leave him when he had no one, so he's not going to leave Andres when it's the other way around.

The fic ends with the hermanos visiting papa Marquina's grave and Sergio teaching Andres the lyrics to bella ciao (this should have been the ending to Hermanito but I got tired adfadsf). Then Andres makes plans to take Sergio to Russia for experimental treatment, as per Alvaro's headcanons.

That's the outline in my head! Hopefully what I write will look the same LMAO and I'm hoping to publish in winter. It's up to fate!

Other things that happen:

Andres remembers that time he starred in a porno, felt it was beneath his dignity, and lost all the clothes he was wearing because they were bought by someone else. This led to him hiding out in a McDonalds bathroom, butt-naked at 2am and looking for chicken nuggets in the trash. Then the janitor tried to kick him out and Andres beat him up and stole his clothes. He considers this the lowest point of his life

Sergio gives Andres a little gift for Christmas, and Andres is surprise pikachu face

A mini-snippet that I hope to include (between the unlicensed surgeon and Andres):

"Take this."

Jose shoved a pair of earplugs into his hands. Andres quirked a brow. "Why would I need these?"

The older man laughed, a nasally trill of sounds that Andres did not appreciate. "They're not for you. They're for the kid-"

Jose grinned. "Because you're going to scream like a bitch."

Snippet from last time:

Occasionally, he would have a moment of clarity. He could step back then and see himself, not as Andres, but as he was. And he’d traded enough counterfeit art to know the difference between artifice and truth. This was a truth he’d always known, as universal as the rules of anatomy and color: Andres belonged on the pages of a sketchbook, lines of charcoal scribbled in haste and set to practice.

He was a replica of that sketch, counterfeit, a scribble made to tear out and scratch.

But Sergio? Sergio was the real deal. Sergio was the painting itself, the portrait that came from the work of countless sketches.

“You don’t have many prospects. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“You can die on the street and nobody’d give a flying fuck.”

“You brother isn’t like you. He has a future.”

Andres looked back to the blood in his sink, the red on his knuckles, and the gashes peppering his face in the mirror. Jorge’s damned words surfaced in his head, as did the physician’s and the most accursed voice of them all: his own. They were right, he realized with a sharp- unfamiliar- ache, he could not keep this up. The dust from his charcoal had no right dirtying the gloss of Sergio’s paint. The portrait could never thrive beneath the counterfeit.

He made his choice. And he should never have fancied another option.

#nharidy #thanks for the ask!#wip meme #I had a year and a half to plan this story LMAO #all I have to do is actually Write it asdfasdfsadf #but maybe it's for the best #december or november might be the best time to post it idk #maybe there'll be a new year's scene too #where they watch fireworks from the shitty apartment #and of course #'amigo' returns to sergio's pov at age 17/18 #where he's back in spain and meeting *Gasp* his brother's new best friend: Martin Berrote

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somethingoriginal127 · 4 years

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I’m gonna be honest and say i don’t understand hating a vampire diaries character without just kinda finding them annoying ... bc how can you say one of them is truly worse than the other

Damon : killed jeremy

Stefan : almost drove elena off the bridge her parents died on literally the most traumatic night of her life (threatened to turn her) (probably just bluffing though)

Caroline : (it’s gonna be mostly season 1 stuff bc she’s the queen of development) made SEVERAL insensitive comments about Elena’s parents death all the time

Elena : complained about Katherine attacking her directly when she turned Caroline even though Caroline was the victim (although Elena was a big chunk of the reason she did it)

Damon : also threatened to turn her in season 1 (also probably bluffing)

Damon : took advantage of caroline

Damon : the whole Enzo, whitmore, fire thing was pretty bad but i also don’t know what else he could’ve done so idk

Stefan : stalked elena like hardcore before befriending her lmao

Damon : kills innocent people .. a lot

Stefan : (for most seasons) puts himself above damon and preaches abt how horrible he is to elena while damon does the opposite and defends stefan to elena

Elena : didn’t notice bonnie was dead over that one summer until she needed her magic (neither did anyone else but that was kind of the point)

Elena : will brush the brothers off and instantly become jealous when they sleep with someone else (i mean me too sis😂)

Elena : romantically involved with Caroline’s abuser (damon)

Caroline : romantically involved with the man (Klaus) who tried to kill her best friend (Elena) more than once and some of her other friends and he also killed her bf at the times mother

Caroline : (going off the Klaus thing) was hypocritical when explaining why Elena can’t be with Damon bc he’s dangerous when she slept with Klaus (unless you think rape is worse than murder idk...)

Elena : slut shames Caroline in a situation Caroline was obviously the victim in and never got the closure she deserved from it :(

Damon: constantly makes matt feel like shit for not dying in that car crash and it isn’t his fault

Damon: won’t allow Elena to make her own descions (if it means protecting her usually)

Stefan : lets Elena make her own choices but it includes the ones that will obviously have her end up dead

idk : the whole jessie thing is complicated Caroline was insensitive to Elena again regarding Damon bc she killed Jessie but i kinda felt like she had to kill Jessie i mean ...Damon’s her bf

Damon : doesn’t want Elena to have the cure because he thinks she’ll fall out of love with him (selfish)

Stefan : wants to find the cure badly on the off chance that human elena = stelena ! (selfish)

Stefan : went on and on about how Damon’s way of teaching Elena to feed was wrong even though it wasn’t and he taught her an effective way to feed without hurting anyone (the reason stefan couldn’t handle feeding was bc he’s a ripper tf did that have to do w elena ??) (seemed selfish like he had to be the one to show her)

Damon : was aware that Elena was NOT aware abt the intimacy of blood sharing annnd had her do it anyway (he seemed to think he was just all out of options though bc she wasn’t keeping anything down and was literally starving) but i digress

Stefan : didn’t have to kill Vicki

Damon : didn’t have to turn Vicki

Elena : constantly makes passes for Damon’s terrible behavior

Stefan : forced Damon to turn

Matt : is always talking abt how much he hates vampires ok buddy we know

Damon : literally tortures katherine while she was dying, like she was awful to you yes but give the bitch a break as Stefan said “she deserves peace”

Katherine : jumps into Elena’s body and just starts screwing up her entire life (Katherine obviously did a million more things but she’s supposed to be a villain so)

Stefan : doesn’t really admit his faults often has this “holier than thou” attitude (like as opposed to damon who is self aware he sucks)

Damon : killing Alaric ... several times 😂

Stefan : spilled the beans abt Katherine being a vampire to his father which started the whole mess

Stefan : hypocrisy (going back to the freaking out on damon for impulsively and forcefully feeding elena blood when he does the exact same thing later on)

Elena : (i was gonna put using Bonnie for her magic but i can rlly only think of 3 times she’s actually done it herself the rest was stefan and damon doing it to save her which she rlly had nothing to do with tbh)

Elena : that time she makes Jeremy kill Kol and kills an entire sire line of innocent vampires

Elena : not apologizing for her actions whenever her humanity was off (it wasn’t her fault at the time but afterwardsss yes ma’am it is)

Elena : leading on the salvatores (i kinda felt for her though she truly didn’t want to hurt either, can’t rlly help who you fall in and out of love with)

Damon : using Andie the same way he did Caroline although (not saying it was right) he seemed to rlly care abt her

Stefan : killing Andie :(

Caroline : accuses Damon of taking advantage of Elena which is impossible because he didn’t know about the sire bond and refused to touch Elena when he did find out (however Caroline was also just speaking off of what she should’ve been told when Damon did in fact take advantage of her in season 1) but still

Damon and Stefan : sure Elena was doing them wrong but did they both rlly have to sleep with the girls that tried to murder elena lmaoo

Bonnie : she’s just a lil judgy but is always saving everyone’s ass so...

Stefan : not telling Elena about Katherine

Stefan : didn’t he like murder all the founding families or something ( fact check me idk wtf i’m talking abt here haha)

Tyler : i think he almost raped Vicki

Damon : threatening to kill Matt if Jeremy didn’t let him out to see Elena

Damon : did not have to kill Stefan’s bestie even though it did help the council trust them :(

A lot of people : got pissed at Damon when he punched Kol at the michaelson ball but didn’t say a word abt the fact that he saved Matt’s life when he did that?? idk that just confused me Stefan literally just asked him if he was crazy

Elena : telling poor baby Damon his love for her was a problem :(

Elena : Breaking poor baby Stefan’s heart :(

Bonnie : was so cold to poor, scared, Caroline when she turned :(

Caroline : (before development) purposely putting herself in competition with Elena all the time

Stefan : he’s a ripper just as much of a serial killer as Damon

Everyone : says Elena wants everyone to save her all the time but like pretty sure she would’ve died for all her friends but THE SALVATORES WOULDNT LET HER ever it was not her fault lol

Elena : remember that one time she didn’t have to kill Rebekah (well dagger)

Caroline : telling Stefan abt Damon and Elena having sex (he deserved to know but she said she would keep it a secret)

everyone : using bonnie whenever it’s convient for them

Caroline : was really awful to her mom (improves later)

Caroline : forcing Stefan to turn off his humanity (then again her humanity was off)

Stefan : he didn’t rlly have to kill dad but like i kinda get it blood lust and all lmao

Everyone : hates on Elena for not knowing Bonnie was dead but nobody knew when Katherine was passengered inside Elena for freaking weeks

from : someone who likes pretty much every character, and someone who like pretty much every ship, i don’t get how can y’all hate ANY of them without it being basic annoyance none of them are worse than the other, life works different when your entire entire life is on the line 24/7. you can say you hate one for *insert evil act here* and you can pull up 30 more for every other character. you guys are lame and loooove to hate :) as for ships Stelena and Delena are BOTH toxic “Vampires are a toxic species” - the wise Stefan Salvatore BUT ships like matt and elena would be boring as hell considering the universe we’re in meaning the toxic friendships and ships aren’t rlly all that toxic considering their environment you guys forget they’re not us. they’re not human.

#tvd #delena #damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #anti elena gilbert #anti damon salvatore #anti stefan salvatore #anti delena #anti stelena #caroline forbes #bonnie bennett #matt donovan

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mygeekcorner · 4 years

Text

Don’t talk to me or my 10 babies ever again

Rules: Top ten favorite characters from different fandoms

Tagged by @averysiriuschromie thanks babe, this took way too long to think about since I didn’t want to use the same ones I did last time lmao

Bakugou Katsuki from Boku no Hero Academia - In case any of you somehow missed the fact that I’m a bakubitch lmao. But my baby has come so far!!! Yes he was a right little shit when they were kids, and he’s still got some issues... but look at him finally starting to grow the fuck up and taking care of people around him!

Oikawa Tooru from haikyuu - This Pretty Setter owns my ass. Is he really writte that deep or am I just projecting? Who even knows at this point, but we have no choice but to stan the Great King

George Weasley from Harry Potter - "Don't cry, Ginny. We'll send you lots of owls." "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!" That was the moment 10yo me knew that I had found my future husband and I stand by that.

Mitsukuni "Honey" Haninozuka from Ouran High School Host Club - He’s just so cute and I love him okay? Also love how he is one of the few characters in the show that actually has a braincell despite his kawaii appearance. Hani-senpai is just too good to be involved in the drama of it all.

Fakir from Princess Tutu - This boy. This booooy!!! He’s so fucking devoted! He’s so fierce and protective and carrying way too much on his poor shoulders. But I love him so much and I’m so happy he finally got to rest in the end ;w;

Sansa Stark from A Song Of Ice and Fire - Girl has a heart of glass and a mind of steel and I love her so much. She deserves better than what all the grownups around have given her, but she’s learned from all of them and my baby Will be the best queen one of these days.

Yuri Plisetsky from Yuri on Ice - This little punk fairy tiger never met an emotion he didn’t dial up to 11 and boy does he know how to Bring It. He is so full of love and he fights so hard to keep his heart from slipping out of his sleeve and he deserves all the love in the world, okay?

Genevieve Lefoux from the Parasol Protectorate series - I’m a simple girl. I see a hot lesbian inventor dressed like a gentleman who outmaneuvers anyone for the sake of her loved ones, I swoon.

Vilainess from Killing Eve - The unstoppable force(TM). For being an assassin who is supposedly devoid of any emotions she sure has a lot of them. And all of them are making me gayer.

Lucas from Who Made Me A Princess - He’s the most powerful petty boy in the universe and I just adore how he sometimes forgets that he is an ancient and terrible being because he somehow ended up caring about his Princess. And no, I didn’t accidentally miss the R in petty up there, though he is that too.

Tagging @d2diamond @scribeoffate @houseofgeeks @ishxallxgood @imaginarydragonling @racke7 @tbiris if you want to play!

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jacobs-jorts · 4 years

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some of my twilight hcs

just so y’all know I really only care about the wolfpack but I do Cullen things if y’all wanna see that.

Imprinting. Is. Not. Slavery. We. Do. Not. Like. That. Stephanie. You. White. Supremacist.

Yet it exists in my twiworld, because I’m a Hopless Romantic™️ and a maladaptive daydreamer. Instead of the slavery our good friend, Supremacist Stephanie, came up with—there’s still free will. Considering (in the Twilight universe, this is not a thing in real Quileute culture. If you haven’t already, I suggest doing a quick google search on the tribe to learn just how much Smeyer sucks.) the old Quileutes could project their spirits out of their bodies, and that the pack are spirit-warriors, wouldn’t it make sense to have a soulmate? The person who’s spirit is most compatible with your spirit would be your imprint. It’s not an inherent love for the imprintee, but a want to be around and protect. I’d like to think this goes along with Billy’s theory, that imprinting makes a wolf stronger, by giving the wolf something to fight for.

Considering Breaking Dawn was an acid trip, Leah was really able to focus on controlling her temper. She found an outlet doing yoga, wood carving, painting, and pretty much any creative outlet she could get her hands on. She learned how to do traditional basket weaving and her and Emily have (nearly) matching jingle dresses.

Later in life, she backpacks across Europe with her best bud, Embry. In Verona, she imprints on a smug, Mike Newton-but-better, Italian guy (I’ve been developing him in my head far longer than I’ve known about Gay Leah ok i’m new to tumblr don’t @ me). Leah finds out his name is Dante Del Conte and laughs for 20 minutes.

For years, Leah thought she would never feel romantic love again. It was more a personal choice, she had forgiven Sam and Emily, but it still sucked, she didn’t want to risk it again. But when this wannabe Pauly D (jersey shore reference ayyyye) with a goofy smile and calls her stupid names like Bellissima, Carina, and Dolcezza, Leah giggles like a schoolgirl. (I have a half finished fic that I stopped writing bc I got depressed but wanna finish, so lemme know if that’s something I should do lol)

Paul still imprints on Rachel Black (y’all pretty sure she’s in her twenties so...Smeyer what the heck?), but they don’t get together. They’re best friends and bond over this one thing more anything else:

WOMEN.

Rachel Black is a raging homosexual and Paul has raging boner 98% of the time. He learns to hoe from her. Jacob has walked in onthem, Rachel with one of those long pointer thingies, standing in front of a white board with a surprisingly well drawn coochie diagram and Paul sitting, cross legged, on the floor with Kim’s study supplies, eargerly awaiting her instructions. Jacob died in his jorts.

Paul speaks Spanish and part of his family still lives in Durango, Mexico (shoutout to my distant cousins lmao). He uses Spanish to wow women and talk crap to Bella’s face.

Speaking of Jacob, he only wears jorts. he is a jort only wearer. in 2020 he’s still making diy jorts. He may have money considering he now runs his own auto repair shop along with Embry, Seth, Sam, and Emily (she’s handy) but hecan’t give them up. Fashion Queen Billy Black has called him a domestic terrorist for putting his eyesight through Jort-Seeing.

He doesn’t imprint, but he does meet a lovely lady from the Makah reservation. He falls in love organically and has a big, big family because twins run in both lines. He is exhausted.

HE’S THE BEST DAD EVER AND HIS BABIES ALL HAVE BABY JORTS. HE PROPOSES BY TURNING AROUND, IN JORTS WITH THE WORDS ‘MARRY ME’ ACROSS THE BOOTY AND THROWS IT BACK TO BRUNO MARS MARRY ME.

fyi his sweethearts name is Melody and She’s My Baby™️. Fic coming soon.

Seth imprints on me. I literally have a 43 page google doc fic bout it that will never see the light of day and is ongoing

Ok but actually. Sethy boy imprints on a girl from the Philippines. (I’m filipino so uh...had to do it 🤷🏻‍♀️ pinoy pride ma dudes. the rest isn’t my shameless self insert I promise) He kind of panicks because holy shit it’s happening.

Everything ends up going really smoothly. They compliment each other nicely. Seth speaks horrid tagalog to her family and always forgets to add po.

so ik Seth is a sunshine boy, but he actually has pretty bad depression? He doesn’t see himself as all that. For a long time he was kind of cyncical, but one day he made the decision to work on being a good person. It ended up actually working! He’s now Ceo of the company of good peopleness.

Once he’s done phasing he becomes a paramedic. Seth loves to help people and is naturally a protector. Whenever he can, he’s fixing cars with Jake at the garage for some extra cash because he likes to spoil his mother. It’s a way of showing how thankful he is and how sorry he is for giving her heart attacks as a kid. rip harry.

Sam and Emily are both heavily involved in the tribe. The both of them are trying to revive the Quileute language and actively work with the youth.

Embry gets a degree in law. He imprints on the cute girl next to him in class.

His imprint is an imprint of color (specifically Nepali and Black) and the both of them work on getting poc who were wrongly convicted out back on the streets. He’s wildly successful and is able to get Tiffany a better house.

Him and his mom have such a good relationship. He’s a total mommies boy and while he was actively phasing, he felt terrible for the way he treated her.

Tiffany’s a milf and Brady loves her. Embry has broken his ribs for this.

Quil and Collin? Gay. not for each other, but their gay. Quil’s Collin’s gay mentor i don’t make the rules.

I’m tired so imma sleep now.

AND JARED IS A LOVEABLE IDIOT WHO RELIES ON HIS EPIC BUISNESS WIFE KIM WHO SPEAKS MULTIPLE LANGUAGES AND IS CHANGING THE WOLRD BYE

#twilight #twilight headcanon #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #jacob black #embry call #twilight wolf pack #ill be back to curse this cite

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malecsecretsanta · 4 years

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Merry Christmas, @thelightofthebane!

Happy holidays to you and I hope you like this! Anyways, I've always had a penchant for Magnus as a god and this is the closest I got to lmao

Read on AO3

*****

The Universe Doesn’t Love

The universe doesn’t love.

It exists, an omnipotent bystander. A guardian of some sort, and watching over the goings on of one hundred billion galaxies, two hundred fifty billion stars, and three trillion planets makes it easier for on objective approach. If the cosmos is the physical, tangible thing of all that exists, the universe is its sentience. Two things, completely different but just as the same.

The universe looks within itself and sees everything ebb and flow by some meticulous design. The universe may be old, just as old as the cosmos it governs, but it is not the being above all. As all encompassing as it may be, the universe is still predetermined by a power even greater than itself—chance.

If the universe believes in something, it’s chance. The coming about of all the forces in existence to bring about something. It is how the universe and the cosmos itself came to be. Just the small particles that happen to be the foundation of everything, decaying and combining as the entirety of this mass become colder and colder and colder and then—first light breaks through. It could’ve not happened that way. One seemingly inconsequential thing could have changed in the most minuscule of ways and everything would have been different.

Chance is powerful. It sits on a throne above the universe, seemingly invisible, but starkly everywhere.

It is when the universe is deciding how close to brush a meteor to the atmosphere of one of its minuscule planets called earth that chance exerts its power. The universe peers into the galaxies, solar systems, planets it governs, deeper than it usually does when making decisions like this, and somehow, a human stands out from the rest.

A minuscule thing. A singular cell in the body of a cosmos that is billions of years old. Shining brightly like a beacon, the mere existence of him telling the universe to do something.

Feel something.

The universe resists. Earth is small, barely there, inconsequential. There are five hundred different earths spread across a hundred billion galaxies, and this specific one is decaying fast, anyway. There’s no point.

But the beacon is ethereal, his soul singing like something begging to be found. The universe doesn’t even think this human know within himself what his soul have been wanting so strongly.

The universe doesn’t love. It’s too subjective, too human.

But—maybe it would like to feel.

It plucks the soul and ushers it softly, changing the angle of his trajectory. It takes a star and breaks it apart to its fundamental elements—hope, joy, peace of mind—and drapes it over this one human soul. It gives him a chance at contentment.

And the universe, for once in it’s billions of years of merely existing, watches with anticipation.

The universe watches as the human draws his arrow, feet drawn shoulder-width apart, right hand pulling the string of his bow taut, left hand shakily holding a bow that’s far too big for him to use.

It is in the middle of watching two galaxies come into collision with each other (always a beautiful sight to behold, and the universe almost always watches) when it notices the tremble of the human’s hands against his instrument of choice. Curious, it abandons Helena and Messir’s bright coalescence and focuses on earth instead.

I can do it, the human boy whispers to himself, I can do it.

If the universe could smile, it would. It feels how much the boy loves his bow and arrow, like it’s an extension of his heart from behind the ribcage of his chest. He grips it the way a musician would hold his violin, lovingly, endearingly. To the boy it is an instrument, not a weapon.

The human takes a deep breath, his exhale passing and brushing the hand that softly rests against his mouth. Seconds stretch as he waits quietly, patiently, until time finally tips and his fingers gently loosens its soft hold.

The arrow sails in a slight curve, the stored energy from the full drawn bow propelling it forward like a missile seeking its target—and then it lands, aim terribly off.

The human lowers his bow, taking stock of his failure, shoulders sagging minutely. Dejection fills the color of his eyes, and it changes the way he holds is body. He is so young, yet carries the weight of the world, the universe thinks. It feels something stir in its center, an emotion that he’s seen on many humans before. It’s a deep ache, sullen, heavy, like a sorriness that is hard to shake off.

Oh, the universe realizes, remembering the word from a conversation he unwittingly overheard from two humans walking the street of Florence, Pity.

The universe is just about to revel in the feeling of it when it sees the human suddenly holding his head high, already nocking another arrow onto his bow, and aiming for another. The disappointment that seemed to permeate his eyes just a few seconds ago gives way to brazen determination, like there’s nothing in existence that could stop him from making this shot. The universe regards the boy and his unyielding persistence, agape. It feels wonder within its very center.

The human doesn’t make the next shot.

Nor the next.

Nor the one after that.

But the he continues on. Over and over again, refusing to give up.

And the universe stays and watches over him, hopeful.

An arrow flies across the room on the fiftieth try, and lands, dead center.

The universe stirs, the realization of it dawning on it slowly but surely.

The human stares wide-eyed at the arrow impaled on the bright red of the target, unbelieving. A small laugh bubbles from his chest, rising like air to his throat, and it escapes into the air, light and musical, tired and relieved. He shoots both hands into the air in rejoice, jumping up and down, yes, yes, yes, I did it! If the universe could jump around in joy it would, but it can’t, so it makes the northern lights in Churchill dance in the sky instead.

It flourishes joyously, akin to a galactic version of an unbelieving laugh.

The universe decides never to feel pity for this human again.

This human has a strong heart.

There is no need for pity.

The universe finally hears the name it’s been hoping to find.

I’m Alexander, he says, hand outstretched, and it meets the hand of another boy, blonde, blue eyes. Jace, the other says. This other human’s soul also sings, but differently. There’s something about this chance meeting that feels cosmic, that feels like it’s exerted by the powers of chance, and the universe wonders whether Alexander and this boy are two halves of a whole. Their souls both want to be found, and maybe, with this machination of chance, they already have.

The universe is introduced to a new human emotion that day.

Heartache.

The universe doesn’t understand much about humanity.

Humans have been fortunate enough to sit at the pinnacle of evolution, and this has made them smart. Sentient. Self-aware. They are also tightly governed by time, yet another concept that they’ve made for themselves. They have many systems of belief that it’s impossible to take stock of it all. The universe doesn’t fully understand spirituality, and it is completely lost on the mechanics of religion. It doesn’t appreciate prejudice, and abhors disparity. Class systems, colonization, slavery, warfare—all concepts it could not parse through if it could. It has witnessed civilizations wipe each other off the face of the earth in defense of principles that is intangible, non-existent, human-made. For a while, the universe looks at earth and only sees the muck of disaster and despair.

Until it doesn’t.

Until the universe looks deep enough to see pockets of goodness where malevolence exists. People fighting for the good of other people. Community in the face of tragedy and catastrophe. A high school student helping his neighbor carry groceries from her car. Big and small acts of kindness that doesn’t take away the bad, but dilutes it. The universe appreciates this in humans.

For as much as they fail, they try.

They try to be good.

Alexander, despite the poison of his parents, tries to be good, and the universe sees this so starkly in the way his soul gleams like the sun of a solar system. He is fiercely protective of his sister. He is the catch all to the mistakes of his adopted brother. He is sacrificial, almost to a fault. And the universe knows Alexander is not immaculate, but despite what has been ingrained into him by his environment, he truly tries.

This is as much as I can go, the universe hears Alexander say, breathless, like he’s been running, I can’t take you any farther than here.

The girl looks back at him with fear in her eyes, the seelie markings along her neck glinting in the moonlight. Why did you help me?

The forest sings as Alexander keeps his silence, thoughts swirling in his mind. He finally answers.

You are not your parents, he says, and says so like he plucked the words out from his very own heart, their sins are not yours. And I won’t see you burn.

The girl mourns, shameful in the way she hangs her head.

You’re just—Alec struggles, eyes glassy, you’re just a child. How can I let a child die?

They both stand there in the dark, grieving their own losses, of childhoods taken by circumstance, of parents who wants to see their offspring molded in their image. They look at themselves and find a person they don’t even recognize anymore.

Go, Alexander finally says, sniffing.

The girl passes the back of her hand against her cheeks. How about you? Won’t they punish you?

Alexander shakes his head, smile bitter on his lips. I’m used to it.

The thank you Alexander gets is not through words, but through magic, a soft spell draped over his body like a veil. He stares agape, wondrously watching the golden wisps flutter around him.

One day, you will not be used to punishment, but love, she murmurs, an incantation akin to a prayer. Alexander feels it curl like tendrils into his heart, where it makes its home. With a final parting smile, the girl runs as fast as her feet can take her.

Just as she disappears into the other side of the woods, he hears the footsteps of the soldiers who have been on their tail since they broke out of the guard. He doesn’t see them as much as he feels the brute force on his arms being wrenched behind his back, wrists bound by cuffs.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you are under arrest for insubordination, one of them says. Alexander doesn’t say anything. He already knows the punishment that fits the crime, knows the runes that will be used to coax out discipline in young mutinous shadow hunters.

One day, you will not be used to punishment, but love.

Alexander holds onto those words like a life raft.

The universe is a billion years old.

It has seen civilizations rise from the earth and crumble into dirt. It has watched as stars are born and reborn in endless cycles of gaseous nebulas collapsing and contracting. It has seen the birth of language, time, physics. Only the universe knows what the cosmos sounds like, and the sound is the most beautiful thing in existence.

(Alexander screams, the sound of it ripping through Alicante, past the atmosphere, through the vastness of space. It ripples through the cosmos and the cosmos shudders in response, like it hasn’t heard a cry so desperate in a long time.)

The universe is a billion years old, but all it could do is listen as the human it treasures cries out in pain, the markings on his arm glowing like molten lava under the touch of a silver device. It mourns and grieves and weeps at the sound of the strongest heart cracking at the pith. Its stars burn a fiery red, galaxies crumpling in frustration, comets streaking down the atmospheres of planets like tears.

The universe is a billion years old, omnipotent, all encompassing, but where it matters, it cannot do anything. It breaks apart stars in search of relief, angles trajectories of everything and everyone that is intertwined with Alexander’s pain, tries to unravel time and push it forward to just make it all end. Nothing works.

The universe uses its last bargaining chip. Make it stop, it calls to chance, I’ll do anything, please.

Chance sits on its throne, absolute, all encompassing. It says simply, no.

The universe grieves. Why him? Why out of everything and everyone, why him?

You ask me this as if there is a reason, chance says, unfazed, there isn’t. You know there isn’t.

If the universe could cry, it would.

And you? Chance asks, why him? Why out of everything and everyone, why him?

The center of the universe burns brightly, warmly, in contrast of how it feels.

His soul sang to me, the universe softly says, in a cosmos with a hundred billion galaxies, in an earth with seven billion people, I heard him calling out.

His is the soul that made me want to find mine.

The universe softly watches.

It watches as Alexander moves through the motions of the life that he has, his environment trying to shape and mold him into what it thinks he should be. His mother gives him stern looks more than she gives him a warm embrace, and his father chants you need to be better with every missed arrow and every clatter of his blade, like an incantation meant to change the son that stands before him. The bow and arrow he has once regarded dearly as an instrument is now just a weapon. There is no music in the way he nocks his arrows and draws his bow string. There is just stinging, unrelenting silence.

The beacon of light that once called out to the universe grows weaker as time passes, and it becomes harder and harder to find Alexander in the throng of seven billion people.

The universe mourns this.

It mourns Alexander like a human would mourn the death of family. It has known that chance can be cruel, and it has always accepted this fact objectively, but Alexander is different. The universe breaks apart its own stars and blankets Alexander’s soul with as much hope it can find. It tries to reach out, call out using the same beautiful sound that the cosmos makes, but space is vast, and the music it plays is not made for human ears.

So it finds Alexander in ways it could.

It becomes the earth underneath Alexander’s feet, giving him stable ground to stand on in times of uncertainty. It becomes the grass that cradles his back as he rests under the shade of a tree in the rare moments he has for himself. It becomes the rays of sunlight that slips through the foliage, gently touching the lines of his eyes. The crosswind that mistakenly pushes his arrow off course. The water that embraces him as he washes his face of the blood and ichor that clings to him after a long hunt.

The universe finds Alexander, and tries with all its might to fend the darkness away, strains itself to listen for the call of his soul, but the shadow is strong, and the sound is soft. Alexander slowly loses himself in the protection of his Lightwood name; his parents’ beliefs become his, their prejudices his prejudices, their words, his words. Years of punishment, verbal and emotional, finally taking in its toll. It hurts the universe to see him like this.

The universe cradles Alexander’s head, the bark of the tree that it is strong and sturdy. Its leaves sway gently with the wind that sifts through the hilltop. Alicante sprawls out below him, like a reminder of what he’s supposed to be.

The universe whispers, and it knows Alexander can’t hear, but does anyways. Its own words murmured through the mouth of a seelie girl Alexander once saved. Seelies, so akin to nature, hears the universe like no other creature could. The universe couldn’t help but take the opportunity.

One day, you will not be used to punishment, but love.

Alexander breathes, and the universe takes the carbon dioxide for itself and returns to the earth, oxygen.

Don’t lose yourself, Alexander.

I can’t lose you.

The universe comes to consciousness, and just like it does every time, looks within the same spot in the entire cosmos, past bright stars, ringed planets, slow moving, sunflower shaped galaxies, to find the one human that is more luminescent than all of these bodies combined. It searches for the beacon of light that has served as the universe’s guiding star, the lighthouse by the sea.

The universe sees seven billion people.

But it doesn’t find Alexander.

That day, the universe feels something it’s never felt before.

Loss.

How do you decide what is meant to happen and what isn’t? The universe asks Chance, its words quiet, lost.

Chance swirls where the cosmos is empty, imbuing its entirety with its will. I don’t.

The universe shifts, its center plunged in darkness, barely burning. The forces that come about to lead to something, there must be some orchestration to it. There must be some things that you meant to make happen.

Chance brushes against the andromeda galaxy. It speaks bluntly, like it knows what question the universe really is asking. Alexander Lightwood was lost because he became lost. Do not try to find something to blame for his misfortune.

Alexander is good. His heart is good, the universe says hotly, and there are humans out there who is equally good but their circumstance twist them into something they never want to be. Should we not give them a fighting chance?!

No. Chance firmly says, this is what humanity is. Existing in their circumstance and still being the best version of themselves they can be. That is how they advance. That is how they learn. And you and I, we are nothing but the things that turn planets and collide galaxies.

Then I don’t want to be just this, the universe says, and if it had lungs it would be breathless, if it had a voice, it would splinter, I’ve lived a billion years.

I didn’t think, I didn’t feel, I just—the universe is filled with desperation—was.

It regards Chance, gently, softly. Until him.

You and I, we’ve existed side by side for a long time, the universe says, and it carries within it a decision made, And you are the closest thing I have to a family,

It seems futile using such human concepts on a being that has been alive since the birth of the cosmos, but it’s the most fitting word the universe could find.

Closest thing I have to a friend.

If Chance could sigh it would. It is despondent with its reply, like it already knows what the universe will ask of it. What is it you want?

The universe musters all its courage, remembers the determination it sees in the archer boy who shot an arrow fifty times. The universe looks at an earth with teeming with seven billion people, the one it needs lost in its current.

Let me go.

Chance stills.

I don’t want to live a billion years, the universe says, the words brighter than Milky Way, I don’t want a thousand lives.

I want one. And I want it with him.

Chance regards the universe quietly.

The universe is a billion years old.

Or was a billion years old.

It opens its young eyes to a world it doesn’t know. It has a mother, a father, a small wooden hut in the middle of a field, and it knows its been dropped in a time too early. So it—he—lives his life, trudges through the muck of human existence, battles his own demons, suffers through his own scars. He lives years and years and years of his life, one that is longer than what most people have, waiting for Alexander. He is not omnipotent anymore, and so the bright beacon of Alexander’s soul is lost to his human eyes, and the song if his soul is nothing but silence to him.

Sometimes he feels like losing hope.

Sometimes he finds souls that he thinks could measure up, but never does.

So he waits, and waits, and waits, and waits.

Until one day, a familiar face passes him by, almost undecipherable in the darkness of the club. His heart, the one that he now has, the one that beats a steady rhythm against his ribs, thrashes in its place with a force comparable to two galaxies colliding. He is breathless at the sight. He has finally found home.

He doesn’t see Alexander for a while, and he aches, but he has waited for five hundred years.

He can wait a few days more.

When they finally cross paths, Alexander knows nothing.

He knows nothing of how far this being before him has come to see the color of eyes. He knows nothing of the hundreds of stars it has broken apart just to see an end to his pain. He knows nothing of the billions of years of existence he has turned his back on for a humble fifty years with him. But the universe knows. That’s all that matters.

“I’m Magnus.” The universe says, voice almost a whisper, like there’s nothing more wondrous in the cosmos than the person before him. He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head softly. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

Alec, for some reason, finds himself smiling for the first time since Clary Fairchild imposed herself into his life. It’s an awkward, disjointed smile, but he smiles anyway, eyes bright with muted elation he’s never felt before. The usual sirens that blare within Alec’s mind when faced with strangers—thus potential threats—remain quiet. There’s something about Magnus that makes Alec want to divulge himself fully.

Magnus feels safe. Familiar.

Like he’s known him all his life.

He remembers familiar words, like it’s whispered to him by a memory so long ago, when he looked at the mirror and saw a person he was content to be. One day, you will not be used to punishment, but love.

So he fumbles with the string of his bow, oddly happy, and takes a leap of faith.

“I’m Alec.”

The universe doesn’t love.

Or it used to not love.

Now it does, truly, deeply, quietly.

And Chance, for once in it’s billions of years of merely existing, watches with anticipation.

#thelightofthebane #malecsanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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ramblian · 4 years

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Jericho Thoughts

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh

okay so. i’m rewatching jericho. i first watched it sometime around 8th-9th grade, I think maybe somewhere in the first half of 2014. I basically remembered this: the main character was the black sheep of the family, he came back to town, and atomic bombs destroyed most of the US, and the show was about the town dealing with the aftermath. the guy from continuum and one ep of flashpoint played a character i liked named dale (eric knudsen) who liked a popular girl who ended up befriending him, and the asking-for-flowers flashpoint ep guy was the responsible brother. Someone used to be a teacher. The main character looked like Skeet Ulrich, but i didn’t know who that was, just the name.

turns out the main character WAS Skeet Ulrich, and 2 characters (heather and emily) used to be teachers, and i apparently forgot almost all of the major characters. I’ve been rewatching it with the knowledge of which characters die, so that’s good. the show is really good, and it’s really intense. I’m almost done, and it’s tough to keep watching both because it’s so intense and because i know a character i like is about to die tragically.

watching this show makes me so TENSE. i think it really got bad when goetz showed up and i knew bonnie’s death was coming up. i’ve been watching the same episode for like an hour and i started 6 minutes in from another viewing. i don’t know why i’m so stressed. well actually i do it’s because things in this show are AWFUL but i know that no one dies after bonnie.

i also really like that the plot is very much what drives the show. romantic relationships somewhat matter (eric/april/mary, dale/skylar, and stanley/mimi in particular get screentime, while jake’s relationships with emily and heather are there and meaningful but not something that drives the story or gets a lot of attention. dale and eric’s relationships have also been less important in season 2) but they are regularly sidelined while the character deal with the latest crisis. characters have backstories that aren’t always super expanded on, like johnston’s chaotic neutral dad or stanley and bonnie’s parents, because they don’t have a meaningful impact on the plot- how mimi grew up isn’t going to change how the Greens deal with food shortages.

also, i love that it’s a post-apocalyptic show where there’s a lot of fighting and lawlessness and not once have they used rape as a plot device. the closest it ever came to being mentioned was when maggie, a survivor pretending to be military to get towns’ supplies, said that ‘out there, men only want women for one thing’ and that’s IT. i respect that so much. way too many shows and books and movies are like ‘things are bad... and we can only express that through rape’ but this show never does

also the grey morality is very well done in season 1 (the bad guys are clearer in season 2). characters fight and do shitty things because everyone is just trying to survive. Constantino was wrong to start a war with Jericho, but i also understand where he was coming from. Ravenwood ransacked New Bern and left them with almost nothing, and Jericho never bothered to warn them. There were some people considering not honoring the deal to repay the windmills in food. New Bern was on the brink of destruction and Constantino tried to get the resources for survival where he could, by force. The thing with the refugees too. There isn’t really enough food for everyone, and it’s true that Jericho’s been getting a lot of refugees when it’s barely managing to sustain its own population. Some of the refugees have been stealing from them, and sometimes you have to make tricky decisions to survive. But the refugees are also probably going to die if they get sent away, and understandably they cannot accept that. they’ve been stealing food to prepare for this possibility, and they are willing to be violent to secure their place because jericho is much better off than just about anywhere else and they don’t want to die. Roger gets in a fight with Gray and accidentally shoots him, but then actively chooses to hold him at gunpoint and refuse him medical help unless he guarantees the safety of the other refugees. That’s obviously awful- but he’s also trying to protect the lives of the 50 innocent people he brought here. In the end, the refugees get to stay because some Jericho residents volunteer to share their rations, but Roger does not because he obviously committed a terrible crime. He’s not a bad person, but of course he can’t just be forgiven and integrated back into Jericho like nothing happened, and he accepts that and leaves with only a gun from Jake to protect himself because at least the others and emily will be safe.

also that emily and roger’s relationship wasn’t made meaningless in order to further her relationship with jake even despite their history as high school sweethearts.

oh god i just watched the scene where stanley’s talking to bonnie in the morgue and it’s so well done and i’m just in bed crying- not sobbing or anything, but plenty of tears. i don’t know what the last show to make me cry like this was; i’ve been watching so much youtube that i haven’t been watching a lot of hard hitting shows lately i guess. Barry was extremely Fucked Up, that might have made me cry, but it might not have- it had me fucked up for weeks, but i don’t know if i cried.

anyway the scene with stanley and bonnie in the morgue is so good. Stanley talking to her like she’s still alive the way they always did for their parents, and talking to her sign language bc that’s her language. Telling her to say hi to their parents. Letting her know that mimi is still alive, that she succeeded in protecting her, and thanking her for it. Still joking around a little even though he’s obviously heartbroken and just being so genuine with her. Neither of them deserved this.

wow can’t believe heather is a fuckin bootlicker, knowing that the government is extremely corrupt and that she and beck are destroying new bern and choosing to continue to work for that government.

oh beck just has to be some sort of a stupid son of a bitch. absolute goddamn buffoon. siding with the govt, arresting jake in the shadiest way possible in the middle of a crowd, choosing to torture jake (which if he knew a goddamn thing like hawkins did he would know was ineffective), and then thinking that after everything this town and those rangers have done to protect themselves and their loved ones that it was just going to work out for him like the others aren’t going to come for jake immediately and efficiently. i liked beck well enough before but any fondness or respect for him is fucking absolutely gone.

at least eric is really getting to show off his leadership skills now. johnston’s dead, jake’s been arrested/kidnapped, hawkins is busy with other shit. eric’s always one of the second-in-commands but this is one of the few times he’s just plain in command.

“your friends have escalated this to a level i will not tolerate” right but you dragging jake to a fuckin blacksite to torture him was fine???? YOU ESCALATED THIS YOU DUMB STUPID SON OF A BITCH. you have really been given so many chances this season to not serve an evil government and try to protect these people and you’ve failed almost every time, huh? he’d also have to be some sort of an idiot to think that a clearly faked note with jake’s signature saying ‘this bad’ would stop anyone. god i haven’t escalated to hating someone this much so quickly in a long fuckin time.

love how beck is leveraging the entire town of jericho and choosing to oppress them in order to get the rangers to turn themselves in <3 i love punishing innocent people to use them against others just like goetz did last episode <3 what a good guy

i dont know why there are so many beck fics on ao3 because this man fucking sucks. like, can you imagine refusing a whole town food, power, and lights as a bargaining chip, blaming someone else (”don’t forget, you caused this”) and then still thinking you have the moral high ground? incredible mental gymnastics when will beck be in the olympics

heather: your actions are so blatantly terrible that i am just now beginning to consider not defending you to everyone. take responsibility for what you do

beck: hmm. no. my choices are jake’s fault

i know beck is probably going to ‘redeem’ himself by the end of the episode but i don’t fuckin care. too late for him now he can’t just say ‘oops’ and pretend he hasn’t done all of this shit. wild how his actions are now literally being compared to those of nazis during wwii and people still like this guy.

hey do you think beck is an idiot asshole or just pretending to be one for fun

commanding officer: go ahead and destroy everything in the area

beck: 🤔 is killing all those people wrong?

oof rip eric sure is rough when you have to ally with the guy who tortured you and killed your dad to protect ur city but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. also where the hell has dale been? i’ll let it go bc the show isn’t consistent on when he shows up and is a major part of town but in universe it sure is fuckin weird, and you know beck would have dragged him in for questioning too

oh wow beck finally decided to actually try thinking critically and addressing the obvious evidence about cheyenne’s corruption. that makes up for everything and i can stan now /s

‘i’m no longer taking orders from the cheyenne government. i believe it’s corrupt at its core. its actions are criminal’ oh so like everyone’s been telling you this whole time? the actions like the ones you’ve taken, not even at anyone’s command? idiot.

lmao i’m not as opposed to constantino’s methods as the show thinks i’m supposed to be. a revolution against a corrupt, oppressive government is not peaceful. it cannot be. the only good fascist is a dead one.

#jericho #jericho spoilers #in case this shows up in the tags and someone sees it or smthn

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musical-chick-13 · 5 years

Text

you opened up the things I shut (cersei x melisandre)

Hello, @multifandomfix. It’s me! Your asoiaf rarepairs Secret Santa. (I’m sorry this is so much closer to the ending deadline/is a day after I said I’d get it to you; I might have gone a bit overboard in writing this because this thing is like 7000 words long, lmao.) Thank you so much for participating, I really enjoyed writing this! :D (I will also put this on ao3 for easier access, but I wanted to make absolutely sure I got this to you first.)

Lady Melisandre still mourns the loss of what she thought she had found at Dragonstone. Someone so committed to his goals, so willing to listen to her, that he would do anything. A man so concerned with justice and following what he believed to be the preordained will of the universe that he was willing to listen to her. Understand her.

Love her.

Feel something toward her that wasn’t disdain or abject fear. To give her a name other than that of “fanatic” or “lunatic.”

And as much as she loves the Lord, as much as she wants-needs-to do right by Him, she won’t delude herself into thinking that any of those other things were unpleasant or inconsequential.

Would he believe in her now? she wonders, If he were still here? She has lost her faith. Broken her own heart. She’s not sure she even believes in herself anymore, which is more terrifying than anything she has ever experienced. She has been the one earthly constant in her life, the only person she could trust, and the only thing aside from God she could every truly rely on.

But she will see this through to the end. It is her duty. She understands this. If she has no cause, she has no purpose. But even still, the thing she sees before she goes to sleep is the way Davos had looked at her after he found out what had happened to the little girl. And Jon. Everyone else at Dragonstone save Stannis.

“Terrible,” they called her. Mad. Poisonous. The manifestation of ruin itself. Poorly-hidden criticisms of every choice she had ever made followed her through every corner of Westeros, even now, especially now.

So when whispers turn to discussion of this Lannister lady, who they call “mad” and “loathsome” and “malevolent,” unable to make sensible choices if the world itself hung in the balance, it all sounds almost disturbingly familiar.

She can see the rage that underlies everything the Dragon Queen does. Perhaps she will shirk her family’s legacy. Perhaps she will not. All of that is in the hands of a far more powerful being than her. But Melisandre knows that she must be prepared should Daenerys succumb to the Targaryen curse.

Nothing the Lord wants is transparent anymore. And in light of the extreme strictures of conventional morality everyone else so desperately wants to hold her to, Cersei Lannister might be the most understanding ally she’ll be able to find.

The current queen of Westeros (well, half of Westeros, if she were to take to heart a somewhat-distant warning from her twin brother—which she was not) takes in her visitor. Hair as red as fire, a dress to match, a spidery necklace that Cersei suspects is much more than just a necklace.

She has heard of her, this fire priestess. Some foreign name that begins with an “M.” Previously aligned with Stannis. Cersei had never considered her worth any further investigation; she can only imagine what this woman wants with her now.

“Why are you here.” It’s somehow not a question. More a demand for transparency. She can’t afford to trust anyone anymore, and for all she knows this woman is here to try to assassinate her.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Wonderful…One of those.

After everything that had transpired regarding the Sparrows, Cersei hopes she never has to hear any mention of religion ever again.

“Lady…” she frowns.

“Melisandre,” the visitor supplies with an enigmatic smile.

“ ‘Lady’ Melisandre. I do not have time for riddles. Tell me why you are here or I will have my guard escort you out.”

Melisandre spares an uninterested, cursory glance at the menacing specimen in the corner, face hidden, armor dulled from a mixture of dust and blood. Others have cowered in fear in the presence of “Ser Robert Strong,” but this Melisandre person seems bored. Unbothered.

Intriguing.

Still, she elects to give Cersei an answer anyway. “I cannot know what the Lord wants. I assume it’s to bring the Dragon Queen and Jon Snow together, but I need to start forging down multiple separate paths in case I am wrong.”

Incredibly, (very credibly), this still doesn’t answer the question of why she is here.

Cersei’s skepticism must show on her face, because Melisandre continues, “Perhaps they are not the true heirs of Westeros. Perhaps the Undead will have to be defeated by another. I am here to make sure you are prepared in case these tasks fall to you.”

“And why would you assume the Lord’s” she practically spits out the word, “Plan would fall to me. Haven’t you heard what they say about me?” Cersei allows a restrained, yet feral grin to grace her countenance, “They think me mad.”

Melisandre echoes Cersei’s smile, “I think you are committed to your beliefs. And will do anything to uphold them. Even if they don’t align with mine, I can respect that. Sometimes, we must do what needs to be done. Not everyone is up to that task.”

For the first time in years, if not decades, Cersei feels a small knot of something-something that isn’t panic or rage-tightening in her chest. If she were less cynical she might call it security or validation.

“Very well.” Cersei isn’t willing to give her more latitude than that. Not yet.

“I will return.” And as suddenly as a leaf blowing away in the wind, Lady Melisandre is gone.

These three words stay on Cersei’s mind she retires to bed a few hours later. When she slips into sleep, the last thought she remembers having is There could be worse things.

Melisandre had a very incomplete idea of what to expect when she actually met the queen regnant in person. And upon arriving in King’s Landing and meeting Cersei’s eyes, she knows that will probably always be the case. Wrath colors her green eyes in a way that makes it clear exactly why people are so terrified of this woman. She does not tolerate nonsense. Will not accept half-hearted explanations. Under no circumstances will she bow to any will but her own.

She imagines that people must look at Cersei the way they used to look at her. Perhaps with even more vitriol. But underneath her rage, Melisandre can just make out fear, born of extreme pain and frustration. Something she finds within herself every time she’s unfortunate enough to be alone with her thoughts.

But in spite of all this, Cersei is committed. Committed to ruling and keeping herself alive in a way Melisandre has never seen anyone commit to anything. Not even Stannis.

Not even herself.

Lady Melisandre will, in all likeliness, have to seek out the Lannister queen again. She is almost looking forward to it.

In the meantime, she decides to investigate Cersei further. What exactly has she done? Why, precisely, do they call her “mad?”

She gets her answers very quickly. Everyone is quick to jump at the chance to criticize this woman. Melisandre, for once, might have found a woman more publicly hated than herself.

And this awakens a touch of uncharacteristic sympathy. Because nothing this woman has done sounds like anything Melisandre wouldn’t also be willing to do, given the right circumstances.

Melisandre thinks of Cersei, and all she sees is a woman dedicated to a cause and willing to do absolutely whatever it takes to accomplish it. Melisandre sees a woman broken by a prejudiced, violent world that explicitly refused to appreciate her. She could never truly hate a woman like that. To do so would be to hate herself.

So the first time Daenerys burns alive a valuable ally—a seemingly reformed, previously Tywin-Lannister-obsessed “bird” of the bald eunuch’s previous circle, with intel that could easily help her claim the throne and procure resources to protect the world from the Undead—Melisandre, as promised, returns to Cersei. Perhaps this action of the Dragon Queen’s was a simple misstep. A brief, uncommon lapse in judgment. But the time of reckoning is quickly approaching, and Melisandre cannot afford to place that much trust in her.

“The Dragon Queen has burned an informant.”

Cersei’s eyes narrow, assuming this is revelation of information is a test. Or perhaps she doesn’t believe her at all.

“Why?”

“He loved your father.”

The queen regnant closes her eyes for the briefest second, allowing herself some sort of internal sadness Melisandre knows she’ll never be able to dissect or understand.

“Why are you telling me this.”

“She isn’t prepared to do whatever it will take to get what she needs. I think you are.”

Cersei looks…almost surprised at this, with her eyebrows slightly raised, jaw clenched to reign in any sort of responsive noise that might wish to escape from her throat. But after a few moments studying Melisandre’s face, she concludes that her not-entirely-welcome visitor isn’t saying this to make a joke or bait her into a response, and her visage retreats to a neutral expression. Something passes between them. A flicker of what feels like understanding.

And Melisandre shivers, ever-so-slightly.

One of the handmaidens has been looking at her strangely. Coming entirely too fast when Cersei calls for her. Greeting her a bit too loudly. There are ugly, shadowy pockets of discolored skin under her eyes that can only be from lack of sleep. She even caught her trying to make off with an old piece of correspondence between her father and the not-so-fashionably-late Olenna Tyrell. An act she repaid by having one of her guards cut off several of the girl’s fingers.

Many would call her paranoid. She would call herself reasonably distrustful.

When she finds out the girl has run off in the middle of the night, her suspicions are all but confirmed.

Cersei does not want to seek the red woman out, but she sees no other option.

Meeting anyone was a thoroughly detestable experience. People with their small talk and shallow observations and empty, deceptive promises; men staring at her the way her girlish self had once wished Robert would; women considering her a traitor for daring to do what men had gotten away with doing for centuries. But Melisandre seems to be the first person Cersei has had the displeasure of meeting who didn’t immediately decry her as “mad” or perverse.

She knew better than to assume anyone was trustworthy. But if she was going to locate this treacherous girl, she needed someone who would not dismiss her on sight.

It doesn’t take her long to find Melisandre, as Qyburn’s spy network is vast and eager to please.

Melisandre doesn’t seem terribly surprised to see her. This annoys Cersei quite a lot.

“What do you need from me?”

“Why assume I need anything.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

And, like before, it’s not a statement of judgment. Just a fact. A genuine observation. It’s a nice change from the way people usually talk to her, if Cersei were in the mood for candor.

“One of my handmaidens has run off. Presumably to help your little friend in the North. I need you to find her.”

“Why not find her yourself?”

“If you think that I would leave King’s Landing and risk someone using my absence to usurp me, you’re much more boring than I assumed. Even being here now is dangerous.”

The woman in red looks…not amused, but some nearby emotion. Cersei doesn’t care enough to puzzle through what that means. She doesn’t know this woman, nor does she have any worthwhile reason to.

“And why would I do this for you?” Melisandre replies, after entirely too long of a pause to be considered polite.

“I wouldn’t doubt Senna knows plenty of information. She wouldn’t have left if she didn’t think she could be useful.”

“I understand why you want me to find her. What I want to know is why I would want to.”

If Cersei still had any hair to tear out, she would. She plasters a sickeningly patronizing smile on her face instead. She hates this world and everything in it. But she particularly hates how clever everyone always thinks they are.

“You said yourself you don’t know if the Targaryen girl is fit to lead. Do you really wish for her to have information that could easily win her a war when you don’t even know if you want her to win?”

Melisandre tilts her chin up marginally. She has almost immediately shifted from close-to-amused to impressed.

“You said you wanted me available in case the girl and the bastard fail. I can’t be of any use to you or your ‘Lord’s’ cause if the North destroys us in a single battle due to extra intelligence. Surely you know that.”

Cersei makes a point to slip the smile off her face. She allows herself to settle into the feeling of power she loves to revel in, the one that almost fills the void in her heart that has existed ever since she was born. Cersei is serious and will not accept a refusal, and it is necessary that this woman in front of her knows that. “Doing this means I and any resources I have will remain to provide you with assistance should it come to that.”

And, for some reason Cersei doubts even the gods themselves know, Melisandre smiles. “Very well. I will find her.”

Two days later, Senna the handmaiden is found dead in one of the castle’s stables. Seemingly trampled by a horse.

Cersei doesn’t know how Melisandre managed to get the girl back inside the city. Cersei doesn’t care.

It’s not until after this that she realizes she never once threatened violence or death if her not-quite-an-ally didn’t comply with her wishes.

She staunchly refuses to think about what that means.

Ch. 2

Melisandre does not like the feeling of doubting herself. It’s been there ever since Stannis’s death, and though the joining of Jon and the Dragon Queen had alleviated it to an extent, it is now back, stronger than ever.

Which is why she finds herself in King’s Landing again, seeking out a certain wrathful, green-eyed ruler.

“The Targaryen girl has destroyed several key food and weapons stores in the North in order to win a battle against a few underarmed loyalists.” There is no preamble this time. Like the woman in front of her, Melisandre has no time for meaningless greetings or stalling through cleverness.

Cersei’s eyes do not change, and Melisandre, for all of her gifts, all of her intelligence, all of her everything, cannot even begin to fathom what she is thinking. “I see.”

Her back is now turned, and she leisurely pours out a goblet of wine. Some part of Melisandre knows that she is simply executing a power play, as she herself has done so many times before, occasionally even toward the woman in question. That doesn’t make it any less aggravating. “If she had any concept of strategy, she wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice so much ‘collateral damage,’ as she calls it,” Melisandre continues.

Even though she’s facing front again, the queen doesn’t even so much as half-glance toward her. Melisandre appreciates her feigned stoicism. And her loathing of the queen’s desire to stroke her own ego is tempered by a rather vulgar admiration at just how good at this she truly is.

After another agonizing minute (Melisandre knows her expression is getting progressively more desperate, but she craves certainty and resolution too much to fix that), Cersei looks up. She asks, simply, “And?”

“The people will be left that much closer to starving and defenseless during the coming Winter. She has proven she does not care about fighting the Undead. Only about increasing her own power.”

“What do you expect me to do about it. Supply resources to my enemies?”

“I expect you to beat her.”

“Yes, that is my intention.”

Melisandre rolls her eyes. (If she doesn’t, she might laugh. But she doesn’t think Cersei is trying to be funny. Or maybe she is. That was quite a thought: Cersei Lannister, agent of comedy.)

Somehow, Cersei lets this gesture pass without comment before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. The expression makes her look tired. She probably is, given how many different groups of people are trying to kill her at present.

“Why have you come to me? You’re afraid this girl is a tyrant. People say the same about me.”

“Even knowing what I know, I doubt you would be that careless.”

“You know I burnt an entire religious cult by gathering them in a church where I was supposed to stand trial.”

Melisandre can’t help but turn one of the corners of her mouth up at that. “They were not real believers.”

Cersei’s eyes move fractionally toward their usual position. Melisandre would say she looks almost…enchanted, if she thought the queen were capable of such an expression.

“I have executed many others.”

“Who have personally wronged you or your children. You have been willing to ally with others when needed. You would not kill potential informants on sight.”

“Has she done that again?”

“Many times, now. One came with a large supply of Dragonglass, the only thing we know can kill a White Walker. She incinerated all of it.”

The queen regnant blinks a few times. She looks almost pained with the thought that her greatest foe is nothing more than a naive child, play-acting at an overindulged fantasy. It’s all Melisandre needs to know that she has made the right choice in coming here.

“I have destroyed entire houses protecting my family.”

“And I burned a child alive.”

Cersei pauses. Takes a long, genuine look at Melisandre, eyes sweeping thoughtfully from the ground under her feet to the top of her red hair. And there is another moment of understanding. No hatred or fear or even disgust. Merely… acknowledgement, as Cersei would do the same if pushed far enough.

Melisandre’s gaze doesn’t quite falter under the queen’s eye. But it almost does.

“Why should I trust you,” Cersei responds at last.

“I’m probably the only person who won’t demand a marriage agreement from you.”

Cersei almost laughs at that. Or, at the very least, Melisandre can tell she wants to; the corners of her mouth relax, and her fiery-green eyes brighten just enough to be noticeable. And Melisandre finds herself smiling fully at the unexpectedly warm response.

When the queen speaks again, quite a bit of her characteristic venom is gone. “Very well. Return in three days. We’ll discuss this further. I have a council meeting to attend to.”

For the first time since Stannis, Melisandre allows herself the luxury of hope.

These meetings have become almost distressingly frequent. It seems as if every slight change in the political landscape, no matter how meaningless, is used as an excuse for her and the Red Woman to meet for discussion.

And as adept as Cersei has always been at keeping herself in denial to cope with the worst of the world, she knows it’s not only Melisandre’s doing.

Fortunately, the latest atrocity actually does necessitate a meeting. It seems the Stark girl has released a prisoner against the Targaryen “queen’s” wishes (indeed, she was just like her mother, it seemed). Things were mostly under control at present, but a small riot had broken out.

“The people are getting tense. This is not good.”

“Not good for whom? The more tense they are under her alleged ‘reign,’ the better for me.”

“Not if the Undead claim you first. Every moment she spends embroiled in political affairs is an extra advantage they gain over us. Not even you can survive them, though I’m sure you’d put up an excellent fight.”

And much to her own surprise, Cersei smiles. It’s not a very pronounced one. But a brief examination of herself reveals that the ends of her lips are unmistakably pulled up.

That hasn’t happened in quite a long time…

“Do you possess the tools to defeat her?” Her visitor presses.

“Yes. But I cannot guarantee there will be enough resources left to kill all of the White Walkers when I’m done. Nor can I guarantee the safety of the resources you already have.”

Melisandre nods.

“I had an idea about that, though.”

“Oh?”

It’s not lost on Cersei that this is the first time she is willingly sharing information with the woman across from her. But considering that her family had used wildfire as a weapon twice in the public eye, now, she presumes that letting someone know there was still more to use wouldn’t be giving away too much.

And it isn’t as if she’d tell her where it is. Age may have dulled her optimism, but not her discretion.

Mostly.

“I assume you’ve heard of wildfire?”

Melisandre’s face shines with recognition, then with something that Cersei thinks looks far too much like pride.

“I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think it would work?”

“Well, you would know better than I would.”

“It would likely kill the wights. But the actual leaders? The original Undead? Probably not. Only Dragonglass or Valyrian Steel can do that.”

“Or dragon fire.”

“Or dragon fire. But I assume you have an answer for that, too?”

She does.

“I wouldn’t have started this conversation if I didn’t.”

The fire priestess looks up at Cersei expectantly. And Cersei hesitates. This is the first time she has asked someone for a favor in…decades, at least, possibly her whole life. Everything else has been an order, a demand, or, in the case of her father, a plea. Never can she remember simply asking someone for something. She loathes it and never wants to do it again.

“You possess…abilities, do you not?”

And Melisandre, unanticipatedly, simply looks at the ground with something akin to self-reproach. “Yes.”

“Then perhaps you could use them. Change the nature of the wildfire, somehow combine it with Dragonglass-you’d only need a few pieces for that. Or, if not, use the fire to focus some sort of death charm.”

“All of which might not work.”

“Then what’s your idea?”

Her eyes drift toward the ground once more. This time, she doesn’t say anything.

As Cersei had thought.

She does not have time for this. She has a country to rule, wildfire to collect, and battle plans to oversee. “Well?” This time, she is forceful. Asking for the aid of her magic might be a favor, but asking for an answer to the question of that aid is not. She already has given far more chances than she’d care to admit to this woman, for some completely indiscernible reason.

“I’ve never done something on that scale. I don’t even know if I could.”

“You brought a man back from the dead.”

She hates how impressed she sounds when she says this.

But, apparently, this display of emotion that isn’t hatred or rage or grief moves her red visitor. “I’ll do my best.” And the accompanying smirk catches Cersei so off-guard she almost drops her wine goblet.

Melisandre takes her leave, and Cersei is left to wonder why her heart is beating so quickly.

Today, it’s some minor Northron lord who made an indecorous comment, which Melisandre tries to use as proof that the North is dividing further, but they both know is just an excuse to see Cersei.

The conversation has evolved into Melisandre talking about how she once tricked a man into handing over his horse. It’s a story she’s never told to anyone; she’d never thought it important, and it reminds her of a time when she was considerably younger (and thus very foolish and inexperienced), besides.

In truth, the only reason this is happening is because they are both far more drunk than they should be, but Melisandre imagines this is what “normal” women do (women who can just live, free of constant doubt and crisis of faith, women who don’t have potentially the fate of the country resting on their shoulders), and that feels…nice.

“And then he says, ‘When I mentioned things were getting too monotonous, this isn’t what I meant. Oh, he was livid.’ ”

Cersei chuckles, though Melisandre suspects that this, like everything else she does, even while under the influence of particularly strong wine, is carefully measured.

“What did you say?”

“I told him now that he finally had something worthy of telling his wife, perhaps she’d pay attention to him for more than two minutes because she probably wouldn’t let him out of her sight again.”

And Cersei abandons all pretense of restraint and absolutely cackles, slamming her free hand down on the table with an ear-piercing THUD. It seems that even in laughter, the queen is hard and fierce, not to be trifled with.

A thin, pink sheen wisps across her (admittedly stunning) cheekbones, and Melisandre thinks Cersei ought to laugh more often.

Perhaps they both should.

But, to quote the most cliché of expressions, all good things must come to an end, as Cersei’s expression, if not her body, suddenly sobers up completely. She is staring at Melisandre, but there is no feeling of familiarity, no understanding. It’s almost as if Cersei is studying her, and Melisandre, in her wine-induced fog, can’t make sense of why.

She gets her answer, though in a much less jovial way than she might have wanted.

“Why are you here?”

“What?”

“You and I both know that you had no real reason to come today, so why are you here? What do you want?”

Melisandre should probably be a little afraid. Cautious, at the very least. She is not. It’s probably the wine.

“I wanted to.”

“No one ever wants to be here.” And Cersei looks sad. Broken. Melisandre knows that expression well: it’s the one that’s been on her face every time she’s looked in the mirror since Shireen.

“I…” But Melisandre doesn’t know what to say. For someone so good at giving speeches, inciting crowds into action, for a woman who could make one of the most powerful men alive follow her without a second thought, she cannot think of any words to reasonably continue this conversation.

After a few minutes pass, the best her hazy brain can supply is, “Your…brother…wanted…?”

“Don’t talk about him,” Cersei growls.

And Melisandre is, once again, silent.

(Although, not out of fear. This silence comes from knowing she’s touched upon a sore spot, and she has no reason or desire to keep prodding it further.)

“I know you’re only here to lay out some sort of trap for me. You should leave while I still allow you to.”

“What reason have I given you to distrust me?”

“Everyone has reasons to distrust them.”

She supposed that wasn’t entirely wrong.

“How do I know you aren’t trying to entrap me?”

Cersei scoffs. “What use would I have of that?”

Melisandre tries not to interpret this to mean that she is ultimately unimportant, but she is painfully unsuccessful.

“I know what my reputation is,” the queen continues. “And I know why I have it. I don’t regret any of the things I’ve done to earn it.”

“Neither do I,” Melisandre answers, softly, pained. She probably should regret a lot of things. But she can’t. She was only doing what she had thought was R’hllor’s will. The right thing.

Cersei closes her eyes, grips the table until her knuckles are white. It is now that Melisandre notices the dark circles under her eyes. Likely due to many sleepless nights. Broken faith and extreme responsibility will do that.

“If you distrust me so much, why didn’t you dismiss me? It can’t be because you have any sort of affection toward me. I was under the impression that you didn’t really like anyone.”

Cersei opens her eyes, and their normally brilliant shade of green is diluted with a scattering of unfallen tears.

“I liked my children.” A deep breath. “I loved my children. Every single thing I ever did was to protect my family.” And with that, the tears fall. Followed by many more.

Before Melisandre even has time to process what is currently happening, Cersei begins sobbing quietly.

This is not a situation she knows how to fix.

There was a difference between comforting someone like…Selyse, and someone like Cersei. Selyse would be placated by empty compliments, reassurances that everything was proceeding according to plan, a prayer. None of that would appease Cersei.

She considers leaving the queen to her onslaught of emotions, letting her stew in her bitterness. But some part of her whispers that that’s not fair.

And so she walks the few steps over to the table with the wine to gently pry the crying woman’s hands from her face, before letting her arms wrap hesitantly around her. Because that was a thing people sometimes did when other people were sad, and it seems like a good thing to do. And, well, she doesn’t have any other ideas.

And from the way Cersei immediately clings back and lets her tears fall unrestrained into Melisandre’s hair, punctuated by a breathy “Thank you,” heavy with so many indecipherable emotions, she realizes just how much this woman has needed a hug.

They stay like that for quite a long while. It is deep into the night when Melisandre finally leaves.

After that night, everything changes. There are no more pretenses for their meetings. No charade of discussing politics. Everything is more familiar, softened, easy. Many days they don’t talk of the war at all.

Cersei suspects this is what having a friend must feel like. She won’t pretend that it’s unpleasant, but she knows it’s only a matter of time before something happens. Or before Melisandre abandons her, like everyone else.

…But that doesn’t necessarily mean she can’t indulge right now, does it? It’s been so long since anyone outside of her family made her feel something that wasn’t excruciating disappointment.

The servants are starting to talk, crying out that “history is repeating” and “has she learned nothing from Stannis.”

If Cersei were capable of simple leisure anymore, she would be laughing almost constantly. Stannis, with his over-inflated sense of responsibility and one-sided justice. He never needed the Red Woman to cause his own ruin. He had only kept himself alive as long as he had because of Melisandre’s council, divorced from his obsessions with keeping the realm pristine and with drawing lines no one was allowed to cross

With everything Stannis pretended he was, he could never have truly appreciated her.

It is late, and she has met her visitor just inside the gate. They begin their walk back to the Red Keep, passing two stable boys who have just finished repairing one of the walls. The younger of the two looks at the woman cloaked in red, expression a mix between panic and barely-suppressed anger. They run away as fast as their small legs can carry them, and the older one whispers something about “the fall of House Baratheon” just before they vanish out of sight into one of the many dark alleys that adorn this part of the castle.

Cersei hears a sharp exhalation beside her, and Melisandre’s face, made at once both smooth and angular by the glow of the moon, looks how Cersei imagines her own had upon hearing of Tyrion’s escape.

“I think it best I should leave.” Her friend ally guest occasional conversation partner speaks tensely, almost as if she could shatter at the insult, were she too uncareful. She whirls around and starts moving back toward the gate.

“Melisandre,” Cersei says, and they both freeze. They both know this is the first time she has openly addressed her by name, without an accompanying title or epithet.

And the tension instantly slides off Melisandre’s face, as simple as a flame being extinguished by a puff of air.

Cersei looks at her inquiringly; Melisandre meets her eyes, nodding stiffly. They stroll back to their customary meeting spot, and Cersei feels a nervousness she can’t name creep up her neck and around her skull. She thinks she hears her escort of choice breathe observably louder than usual as they step over the threshold into the room. She isn’t sure what this means, other than it makes the dreadful feeling worse.

She tries to think of something to say, but her mind is blank. As if someone has burned away all the thoughts in it, or spilled an inkwell over any pages of conversation she might have pre-written, rendering them unreadable.

To give herself something to do, she decides to light a few candles. But she finds herself so distracted by whatever-in-the-Seven’s-name this is that she burns her finger, a small “Aarh” escaping her mouth, unbidden. Melisandre glances over in concern, and-upon realizing what has happened-gently walks forward to help. At this point, Cersei is scrambling to light a second candle. Quite ineffectively, as her finger hurts too much for her to use it for anything.

Red hair brushes over Cersei’s arm as Melisandre takes the candle and the stick used to light it. Their hands brush during this exchange, and for some curious reason, Melisandre keeps her head down, pretending to be fascinated by the tendrils of smoke peeling off from the candelabra as she transfers flame to the rest of the candles.

She pulls a handkerchief out of some fold of her dress (red, always red, like the color of Cersei’s house or the blood that runs through her veins), and, instead of merely handing over the scrap of fabric, gingerly winds it around Cersei’s injured finger with utmost care.

“There,” the Red Woman murmurs. Her hand is still on her makeshift bandage, curled around Cersei’s finger; her eyes are wide, her lips pressed tightly together, as if trying not to say something.

A minute passes and still neither of them lets go.

Shrouded in the half-light of the candles, Melisandre continues to keep her gazed fixed to the ground, and Cersei feels an increasing need for her to, instead, train her deep blue eyes on Cersei’s green. There is no practical reason for her to want this, other than an inkling that, should it happen, the strange and terrible feeling will lessen. Eventually, she is rewarded for her patience; Melisandre seems to resolve some inner conflict before looking into her eyes unwaveringly, taking her available hand and hesitantly tucking a lone, stray thread of hair behind Cersei’s ear.

Cersei’s breath catches, and she realizes just what that feeling is.

Melisandre nearly crashes her hand back down against her side in a rush to get it away from Cersei’s face. The skin around her eyes is taut, the rest of her face colored with trepidation. She looks…

…Afraid.

That was not an emotion she had ever thought she’s see on Melisandre’s face. She had somehow thought her incapable of feeling such a thing. A thrill rushes through her at the idea that, in a world containing the Undead, dragons, endless stretches of war and struggle and death, she alone was responsible for this expression gracing the Red Woman’s face.

She can tell Melisandre wants to leave, convinced she has crossed a boundary that cannot be uncrossed. And if it were anyone else, she would gladly tell them to get out.

But that isn’t what she wants.

It’s been quite a long time since she’s truly gotten what she wants.

So, before her conversation partner guest ally friend can so much as turn around, she frames her face between her hands and kisses her.

Melisandre responds enthusiastically, fisting one hand in Cersei’s short hair, the other wrapping around her waist in an effort to pull their bodies closer together.

Cersei thought kissing a woman would be…different…somehow. And it was. But not as drastically as she had assumed. It was an odd contradiction of having an intimate knowledge of what was effective (such as running her thumb over Melisandre’s cheek here), and being acutely aware that the body pressed against hers was of a different shape and construction than any of those she had previously allowed this close to her.

It’s intoxicating.

All she feels a heady sensation a thousand times more powerful than even the strongest wine, and everything, everything is Melisandre.

She is no longer foolish enough to believe in the existence of happiness. But perhaps this comes close.

It’s not as pronounced of a change in their relationship as last time, but it is, undoubtedly, a more meaningful one.

The remnants of stilted distrust have given way to a new openness between them, one punctuated by languid kisses and running soft fingers through the other’s hair.

Now, when Cersei’s eyebrows knit together while revising a battle plan, Melisandre can place a gentle hand there to smooth them out. When Melisandre experiments with fire, Cersei is there to tell her (bluntly, with a hint of irritation) when she is breaking her focus and to ask her what more she needs.

They have formed a cohesive unit; their plans to stop the Dragon Queen and the Undead have reached their final stages. Melisandre is practicing what magic she can, and when they are not finding solace in each other for a few precious moments, they are reviewing and re-reviewing war tactics. The end is near. For some, if not all of them.

“We attack tomorrow,” Cersei pronounces. Resigned. Resolute.

Everything that had happened over the past year had been building up to this.

Cersei’s newborn son has been sent away with one of the only knights the two of them have agreed she can trust. If God is kind, the boy will be tucked away in the far southwest, on the coast of an unmapped island, cared for and defended.

Everything is in place. Except for one small item of discussion.

“Absolutely not.”

“I am not asking you to spare anyone else. Just the girl.”

“Why should I spare Sansa? How could I justify that?” Cersei turns from the window she had been staring out of. The wind ruffles the top of her head and she looks graceful, poised.

(Beautiful.)

“We are not allowed to pay favorites in war, Melisandre.”

“She has been nothing but an agent of peace. Every single thing the Dragon Queen has done, she has been against. If we need anyone left alive on our side when this is over, it must be her.”

Cersei remains unconvinced.

“Her sole motive has been to protect her family and vanquish the Undead. Surely you can understand that.”

The barely-perceptible droop in Cersei’s shoulders indicates that she does.

“The world is not done with her yet. She simply wants to be left alone. She won’t disturb you if the North is safe. If you want to protect your child, sparing Sansa Stark will help do that.”

“Very well. I will spare her. Only. Her.”

“Promise me. For the love of this country—”

“I don’t love this country. I love you.” Her eyes drift wistfully out the window once more, mind temporarily lost in a dream of some other, happier, theoretical life. “I love my child. More than anything. More than my own life.” Cersei’s eyes shift back to the here and now, her gaze piercing, but almost as if in a show of bravado. She is posturing, trying to undo this show of vulnerability. And as Melisandre takes in her rigid back; clenched hands, with sharp, leonine nails digging into them; eyes fighting desperately to stay open instead of closing to indulge in some other, less ferocious emotion, she realizes that Cersei is afraid she’ll leave. Even now.

Extreme, non-pious emotions have never been something she wore well. But she cannot let this woman stand here and doubt her loyalty. She cannot let her think her trust and love have gone unrequited.

“I assumed I would never know what it meant to love something that wasn’t God. I never thought myself capable. You proved both of those things to be false. Thank you for that.”

The smile on Cersei’s face is sweet, tender, almost beatific in its loveliness.

When she turns toward the window again, her demeanor has changed into something almost unrecognizable. She looks oddly calm for someone about to end a war years in the making.

Melisandre takes a few steps and joins her, surveys the starless sky, feels the icy, uncomfortable breeze on her face.

And as Cersei quietly threads her hand through hers, Melisandre feels that strange sense of calmness wash over her, too.

For, whatever happened, they would face it together.

#cersei lannister #melisandre #cersei x melisandre #femslash #got #asoiaf #asoiaf rare pair exchange

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 6 years

Note

Sailor Pluto: "I'm going to go be human for a while, see how they live." \ Pluto: [meets aliens on Earth] \ Pluto: Wait what. \ Noh-Varr, who somehow ended up talking to her at a bar, both assuming the other is a Real Human and trying not to act too weird: Hey, do you like close harmony girl groups? I've got some great vinyls at home if you want to hear some. \ Pluto, confused: Sure? \ Pluto, watching Noh dance half-naked to retro music: This was a mistake. \ Pluto: A REALLY HOT mistake.

lmao ok so i saw this right before I went to bed and thought about it while I couldn’t sleep and went “well, I never do anything but super niche things anyway so why not”

because like. first of all, correct, I truly believe Sailor Pluto (especially before she actually comes to Earth for realz) has the same level of human behavior comprehension as Noh (which is to say, if they actually put effort into it, a lot, but who wants to put effort into it?), but i think she’s way more likely to wind up accidentally dating Sif and/or Valkyrie

BUT upon further consideration I decided that the Senshi would super love Noh. Think about it: he’s super strong, hard to freak out, and eats anything. The girls can work on their cooking skills at all the terrible food experiments will not go to waste because he will still eat them.

I’m seeing Noh meeting them post-canon, so while they’re in college or out of it, but I could also see Usagi running into him as a high schooler and just yelling “NOH PLEASE EAT MY TEST I GOT A 45 ON IT”

“SURE THING KID.”

but anyway.

I actually…think…that in suggesting this AU, how dare you, that I’ve found the PERFECT girlfriend for Noh!

And I wish I could say “oh it’s Rei or Mako” but like. Noh really goes for the fighty girls and it doesn’t work out well for him, does it? And he and Usagi are the bro-est of bros

So like. Power couple Noh and Ami.

One of Ami’s defining traits is her compassion and understanding, and there haven’t been a lot of people like that in Noh’s life. Someone patient enough to sit down and say “okay, that was a terrible decision. Why did you make that choice?” I think Ami would really get the “he is literally an alien so he doesn’t get some of this stuff” and the Senshi have dealt with aliens who don’t get Human Stuff before so it’s not like this is a conversation Ami’s never had before.

She’s outside the Marvel Universe, so she doesn’t think of him as “that guy who betrayed us” or “the guy who set fire to New York” but she’s a Sailor Scout, a superhero in her own right, so she’s not going to get freaked out by his superhero stuff. Probably just really curious. (He introduces her to Dr. Strange so she can talk about balancing a medical career and a superhero one only to find that Strange truly has no advice for her, and also his fridge is full of snakes, but she also meets Loki, who talks to her about magic/science overlap and then takes her out dress shopping and maybe to case a bank for a robbery??? Ami is still not sure)

I don’t see Ami as being super interested in sex (I don’t think she’s opposed to the idea of it, it’s just not a priority for her) which I feel like…is maybe a relief for Noh? He has to worry less about mind control saliva (”Noh could I do a cheek swab? For…science.”) and let’s be honest Noh has had a lot of people doing horrible experimenty things to his body so it might be nice for him to have a relationship that was primarily mental and emotional than physical, at least to start with. (They are super cuddly, though. All the time cuddles.)

And having a doctor or medical student in the Young Avengers extended family is really useful because Ami just sighs and goes “Hawkeye-chan, why are you covered in shark bites.” (and before someone comes to me like “I don’t think she’d use -chan in this situation”, you are probably right but when you’re bandaging up someone’s 26 sharkbites because they won’t go to a hospital after invasion of landsharks and you’re too polite to call them an idiot, what else is she gonna call Kate? This is the third time this has happened, and Ami has no frame of reference for this)

Noh has a spaceship that he and Ami tear apart and improve tech stuff on. AMI LOVES COMPUTERS. Noh is smart, even if he doesn’t always act that way, so he can keep up with Ami, mentally, which is really nice. He can also keep up with the Sailor Scouts if they need an extra hand. He’s diffused at least two conflicts by invoking Dreamgirls? They’re all still really confused about how that worked.

….also you will be hard pressed to convince me that Noh doesn’t play music while Magical Girl Transformations are happening. From an old skool boombox, for the Aesthetic.

Noh: Did you guys need someone killed? i can do that.Ami: we try not to kill people, Noh.Noh: but sometimes. you gotta.

Not to mention–Ami is a calming influence, and hanging out with Rei and doing Spiritual Exercises with her has helped him control his anger so when he gets mad it’s more controllable? And it manifests more it being really protective of Ami (not when she’s a Scout. She’s fine as a Scout. Noh and Tuxedo Mask are the Sailor Scouts traveling cheering section) but at parties or mixers or whatever when Ami is Really Polite and doesn’t call people on interrupting her and Noh will just go “EXCUSE ME, AMI WAS SPEAKING IT’S VERY RUDE TO INTERRUPT.” followed by. the most terrifying glare.

Noh is a Supportive Boyfriend. (he’s been working on it). He’s trying to be more attuned to Human Things so he reminds Ami when she needs to sleep or eat or that studies show a thirty minute break of dancing to motown for every two hours of studying improves information retention. Ami never had impromptu dance parties before Noh and now she has them all the time. And…they do help her maintain focus.

Noh went through her entire apartment building during finals and threatened bodily harm to anyone who disturbed the peace and at least three little old ladies laughed at him and gave him food to take back to Ami. He’s losing his edge.

idk man I just feel like they’d help one another grow as people–Noh in becoming more aware of how his actions affect others and thinking before he makes terrible choices and getting better at asking for help, and Ami in being a little more impulsive and self-indulgent. Neither of them do a complete 180 or anything but just…a bit more balance.

Ami, I think, really and truly does see people for the good and bad in them, but focuses on the good, and again...I think someone who believes that Noh is fundamentally good and not a screwup--or that his screw-ups don’t define him--would be a game changer. Ami very, very secretly thinks about Noh’s white hair and his spaceship and his flying boots and thinks her boyfriend is kinda an angel, and even though she never says that, Noh can sense it, you know? He knows Ami believes in him. She holds him to a high standard, and by god, he wants to exceed it.

Also? Noh helping Ami study, using her legs as a pillow while she plays with his hair

#phoenixyfriend #sailor moon #young avengers #noh varr #sailor mercury #ami mizuno #sailor pluto #my stuff #this was....not what you asked me at all #power couple noh x ami #honestly i've known them for 8 hours and i love them #goddamnit i love them so much now #i mean i love kate!!! but kate is a grudge holder #ami is not #also catch david and ami being pals #honestly what a chill and sweet relationship whti would be #occasionally fighting the forces of darkness and alien invasions #normal stuff

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questionairesforme · 3 years

Text

Are you bothered by your cosmic insignificance? i'm terribly aware of it, sometimes that can make it difficult to find the point in staying alive. i can hardly imagine anyone who's not bothered by this tbh, doesn't it make everything we do sort of pointless?

Do you mourn for a place or person you’ve never known? i definitely do. i long for something more.

Do you really think there is somebody for everybody? honestly, i don't know. i certainly dont think there is one specific person for everyone but i guess it only makes sense that everybody's got several peopple they feel comfortable with and are a perfect fit. the question is, will they ever meet one of them?

Do you place any value in gender roles? no

Do you have to be related to be family? no, family is so much more than that.

Are your platonic relationships just as valuable as romantic or family ones? definitely. some even more so.

Are you in love? Do you want to be? i am. i'm not sure if i want to be.

Do you think you can put love into categories (family, platonic, romantic, etc.) or is it just one general sensation? i find it difficult to see differences between platonic and romantic love, especially when a romantic relationship went on for a while. ig the feelings are mostly the same, you just choose to express them in different ways.

Would you be happy with a life without romance? idk i guess i'd start longing for it eventually.

Are you always going to be a little in love with somebody? yea

Would you change your appearance if you could? hell yes

Do you have the feeling you’ve lost something you might have had in another life - whether it be a person, a place, a world, a language, etc.? i have never thought of it that way but it makes total sense to me

Do you think you’re special, or just another person amongst billions? Can you be both? just another person

Did you have imaginary friends? Do you still have them? i dont think i ever had any

Are you religious? Do you think your religion is ‘correct’? no

If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why? i sometimes do. i imagine its quite reassuring to believe in some greater power and it might make life seem more meaningful

Do you want a grand adventure? yes please but also i'm scared to leave the house

Do you have somebody, whether it be a friend or stranger, who you think you could have loved if the circumstances were different? yes

Is love about convenience or something more? Can it be about both? I DONT KNOW why would u ask that. ig it is mainly about convenience in the end

Do you think you really understand your gender and sexuality? nah. does anyone ever really understand?

What’s the most life-changing choice you’ve made so far? idk

Are you afraid of growing old? yea. i don't wanna do that, man

Would you want to live forever? How about for a billion years, a million, a millennium, a century? NO

Do you believe in some form of god/s? no

Are your choices fated or of your own free will? free will. however, i really cant shake the feeling that there is some greater scheme behind all of it

Do you have a hunch about how you’re going to die? oh yes

Do you believe in star signs? nah

How old do you have to be to be considered an adult? id sure like to know

Was your childhood happy? i wouldn't say i was a happy child. too much trauma to deal with.

What are you missing from your life? happiness, purpose.

Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? yes. we did get along until she stopped talking to me for no apparent reason.

Do opposites attract? thats a tough one.

Is your life what you expected it would be five years ago? dude i never planned this far ahead

Do you know what you want out of life? no. to be happy, i suppose

What makes a person ‘good’? Are you a ‘good person’? caring for others, having their best interest in mind, being honest

What fundamentally matters do you? honesty, trust, friendship, family, relationships

Is freewill an illusion? dude idk

Do you create art? How do you define art? art is anything you want it to be. i used to create art but i don't anymore

How often do you lie? Is all lying inherently bad? Are you generally truthful? id say im generally truthful as i consider lying to be bad. however, i do lie to protect others (or myself in rather irrelevant situations)

Do you want to be remembered after your death? What for? of course i don't want everyone to immediately forget me, i'd love it if sometimes they thought of me when a certain song comes on

Is true world peace ever possible? not as long as humans exists

Are you free? Will you ever be? Can anyone be truly free? No. I am bound by financial, time and space constraints.

Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? yes, sometimes i do

What do you expect from a friend or partner? honesty, loyalty, communication, being on equal footing, trust

What question could you ask to find out the most about a person? people are not truthful enough for this

Do you justify all your beliefs or have you just inherited/absorbed some? i mean... i do like to have some sort of truth and facts to back up my believes?

Which beliefs do you have that is most likely to be wrong? human beings are inherently good

Can human really understand the complete nature of the universe, space and time? no, under no circumstance

Do you thinks humans are obsessed with escapism (books, video games, movies, etc.)? Are you looking for an escape? Do you think that’s a bad thing? definitely. why wouldnt we be? what else is there to distract us from our cosmic insignificance and how pointless this life actually is? if we didnt try to escape we would have all committed suicide by now lol. that wouldnt be such a bad thing tho i guess

Are we eventually going to ‘run out’ of new combinations for music, art, language, etc.? Is there a limit to human creativity? no, there will always be partially new elements

Do we live in tumultuous times, or do they just seem so strange because we’re living in them? are times ever not strange and tumultuous

Would you want to meet a clone of yourself? Would you like them? hell nah. i even hate seeing only parts of myself in others lol

How confident are you, really? idk not very confident id say

How consistent is your perception of time? dude dont get me started

What age should people be allowed to vote? Should children and teenagers be allowed to vote? i feel like for teenagers age shouldnt matter, it would be more useful to quiz them to assess whether they understand the power they are given by voting

How do you feel about monogamy? i prefer monogamous relationships.

Can you be in love with someone and still fall in love with someone else? yes

What’s the tragedy of your life? i have been given so much but my mind wont let me appreciate any of it

Would your life make a good play? nah

Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation? no

Do you believe in gender equality in every aspect? uh, of course i do?

Do we have a moral obligation to care for others? To what extent? i think we do.

Do you crave approval and/or praise? i guess i do to an extent

Are you ever going to be satisfied? dont think so

When you are sad, do you listen to music that conveys your emotions or music that makes you happy? i usually listen to aggressive music to change my mood lol

Is your music organised by mood or sensation or do you just listen to everything at any time? by mood

Would you marry a friend if they needed you to (e.g. for citizenship)? yes

Are you a deep person? i'm shallow even though i don't mean to be

Given the chance to live your life on Mars, with no hope of returning to Earth but with the promise of scientific discovery and glory, would you take it? no

Are you who people think you are? no but i am even a mystery onto myself lmao

Do you think you would be happier if you had been born a different gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, nationality or religion? no

What’s your toxic trait? Are you trying to improve yourself and fix it? i can be controlling, i'm trying to be better

Do you anger easily? yes

Are you a jealous person? yea tho usually in non-romantic relationships

If you lost all your memories, would you have the same personality? no?

Given the chance to reset your life (with none of the knowledge you currently have), would you take it? whats the point

Is hate as strong as love? Who do you hate? i guess it can be. i have never felt hate like that. only towards ppl i have never met

Do you speak multiple languages? Which do you dream in? What language would you want to learn? i speak english and german. i dream in german, during my time abroad i did start to dream in english occasionally tho lol. if it didnt take any time or effort i would love to learn alll the languages. especially spanish and russian i guess

Do you draw meaning from your dreams, or do you disregard them? usually i overthink them lol

How would you describe yourself when you love? Do you love forcefully, unconditionally, gently, quietly, desperately? unconditionally

Is unrequited love real love? sure? feelings do not become real only if they're reciprocated? lol. of course it probably cannot be as profound as the love you feel for someone you've been with for some time

Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? no

Are you overly analytical? no

Do you ever feel that you are really a terrible person, and only act good out of societal or some other obligation? not really, no

Do you believe in magic? Are you superstitious? i don't believe in magic. i am a little stitious.

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lunastwilightblog · 6 years

Text

The throwing-the-girl’s-laptop-at-the-window story

(This is a very long story here but I’m on mobile so I can’t put it under a cut, sorry)

@ilovetabicat BASICALLY I lived in a really terrible dormitory in Warsaw for 6 weeks until Halloween and I was in room 516 on the 5th floor, the foreign European students’ floor. Everyone spoke English but I was the only native speaker. (There is a reason I’m pointing that out).

My roommate, let’s call her Rayna (nothing like her real name) was from Belarus and spoke Belarusian, Russian and Polish, and terrible English. My Russian is very basic. But she was lovely, and made me lots of tea for my cough when I was ill.

On the afternoon of the 28th October, a Saturday, she asked me to rearrange the furniture on my side of the small room and use half of my shelves! I was annoyed, not only because it was my side of the room, but I had brought 3 suitcases of things, and she only had 1. What stuff did she need to use my shelves for?

But we were going to be living together until the end of June 2018, so I smiled and went along with it. “Yes, of course, no problem.”

I moaned a little about it on Facebook messenger to a French girl from room 520 we will call Marie, then went on a walk at 10pm through the local park and rode the empty metro for fun.

When I got back to my room, Rayna was waiting for me with Marie’s Ukrainian roommate, Alina (not real name). Her pale little button nose was turned up in some sort of smug frown, but her eyes were nervous. Alina’s body language was defensive.

“Luna, am I a bad roommate?” Rayna asked.

“No, no. Why would you think that?”

Alina explained that Marie had shown her my messages. My messages weren’t even bitchy. But language and culture barrier! They’d all interpreted what I had said differently 🤦🏻‍♀️

So Rayna and Alina began interrogating me. I explained the reason I hadn’t said to Rayna that I was unhappy with what she wanted was that it wasn’t much of an issue. Sure, I was annoyed, but I could get over it and live with it. I even calmed down by going on that walk. But now they were really making me angry.

Alina started insulting me. She called me a liar, said she didn’t like people who lied or who didn’t look people in the eyes when they were speaking. But the reason I wasn’t looking them in the eye was that I was absolutely fuming. It was 1am, they were bitching at me, making a situation out of nothing. And I had a knife on me (the same one that actually cut my finger recently lmao) and I was afraid that if I looked at their smug bitchy faces while they insulted me, I would lose my cool façade and hurt them. I was trying to dissociate but they weren’t having it.

Alina said that if I told anyone about this conversation they would know and would make me pay. She said that they were going to go and bitch about me to everyone, and that everyone in the dormitory hated me (because I told the Spanish students to please be quiet when they get back from the club at 4am, or play insanely loud movies at 2am).

So. Not nice people.

They they left the room to go into the one adjacent, 514, occupied by Spanish girls Felicia (again not her real name) and one whose name I never learnt.

So I was left seething in a room now entirely reorganised uncomfortably while I could hear several girls, most of whom I did not know and had never spoken with, and Rayna and Alina talking about me in English through the thin wall.

So.

Already in bad mood

Personal space invaded

Room now not symmetrical

Been bitched at

Been threatened

Girls I don’t know bitching too

Got to put up with possible bitchy warfare with childish girl for a year

What was I going to do? I had to live with Rayna until June and Alina until February! I paced around the room considering all my options.

Give her what she wants?

Engage in the bitching warfare?

Move out?

Final straw. One of them mentioned my parents, who had visited recently. I didn’t need anything else.

I left my room and stood for a moment in the corridor, my hand over the door handle to room 514 hovvering while I thought to myself. “Am I going to do this?”

Yes.

I swung open the door. “Why do you think this is going to solve anything?” I questioned. My eyes scanned the room. There was about 6 of them. I knew 2. Rayna and Alina were stood at the back of the room, in front of the windows. There were 2 beds, one on either side of me, and a chair in the centre supporting a charging laptop. The artificial light in the room was almost blinding, yet the windows were pitch black and uncovered by the drab orange curtains.

They were quiet for a moment, but weren’t stunned at my entry. I can’t remember who said it, but one of the 4 Spanish girls spoke. Among other insults, she said it was their right to talk about me and say things.

I retorted of course.

“So what are you going to do about it?” The bitch said.

Now we all know that is the worst thing to say to someone in a rage.

My eyes focused on one thing in the room closest to me, and calmly, as if I were on autopilot, I paced over to the chair slowly. I unplugged the black laptop and the mouse, scanned the room for a bare space of wall, and lobbed it at the window. It shattered above Alina and Rayna’s heads.

Then Felicia attacked me.

She shoved me with her hands on my forearms into the corridor and aimed to punch me as she did so but I ducked and grinned as she had me pinned against the wall facing her door.

“My laptop! You broke my fucking laptop!”

She went to hurt me again but I reminded her of the CCTV camera on the ceiling facing us. While what I had done was not on camera, what she had done was.

“Are you crazy?” She screamed in my face. “Are you fucking crazy?”

Calmly I replied, “yes, I am actually.”

Someone pulled her off me, but she grabbed my left wrist like a vice, her eyes still so full of rage and her wavy brown hair messy over her round face. She was overweight and I’m tiny, so I didn’t want to fight her, but it was clear she wasn’t used to physical confrontation and if she did attack me again, I would likely be at an advantage.

I managed to escape into my room and push the door shut against the group of angry Spaniards trying to pull me out. Shouts of “loca!” rang out up and down the hall, as more people came out of their rooms to see what was causing the commotion. Rayna knocked a few moments later. “Luna, it’s Rayna. Can I come in please?”

I was wary, but I opened the door, and she entered. “Yes, of course,” I smiled.

A Spanish girl confronted me while the door was open. Her pretty face was twisted with a scowl, and her arms were folded angrily, but her words gave away her apparent fear of me.

“We’re calling the police,” she stated defiantly.

“That’s okay,” I replied sweetly, “I can talk to the police.” I have experience in that area. And if the police are male, well.

But how could I deescalate the situation?

“I will pay for a new laptop,” I offered, remembering my grant would be due to arrive soon after I completed the paperwork.

“Yeah, you better.”

“It’s no problem, don’t worry,” I smiled. The girl looked unnerved.

“Why is she so calm?” One questioned. I looked that one in the eyes.

“Don’t worry!” The first girl scoffed. But she really didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t reacting the way anyone else would in this situation. I was completely calm on the outside. I was polite. “We are still calling the police.”

So saying they were calling the police was a scare tactic? Aha. If only that scared me. “That’s no problem. You can call them.”

the police came. Two of them. One spoke English, one did not. A German-Polish girl translated for us. I had a nice chat with the English speaking one about London.

With the help of the police, Felicia was made to agree to my plan of nothing happens to me, I just pay her back. I was given the choice of agreeing to pay for it then and there (as I had suggested) or being taken back to the station and agreeing there. So, the next day I was to get out money and give it to Felicia.

As he and his colleague walked towards the lifts to leave, he called back, “don’t break any more laptops!”

I laughed and called back, “I won’t!”

I woke up to a Facebook friend request from him.

There was more than just one problem with the plan. The banks were shut as it was Sunday. My card had a withdrawal limit. And Felicia did not provide proof of how much her shitty, heavy laptop costed. She asked me over WhatsApp for 700€! That’s £621, or $861. That is not how much that laptop costs. Legally, she had to provide proof, and she hadn’t.

But I had no choice.

All of my belongings were in my room, which was probably unlocked as that’s how Rayna liked it, including my own laptop. I wasn’t comfortable with Rayna anymore. She had spent the night rocking back and forth at the back of the room saying “I’m so scared of you, I don’t know what to do,” over and over, despite how many times I told her I would never hurt her. She thought I had thrown the laptop at Alina’s head. But as we know, if I had wanted to hurt them, I would have done it already. I was also worried Felicia would seek revenge as well as financial compensation.

I had already hit my overdraft. I managed to withdraw 1000zł (about £220) but my card was declined each time I asked for more. And nowhere was open for me to get a loan.

What was I going to do?

I did not want to go back to the dormitory to tell Felicia I could not get her money, but if I wasn’t there, how could I protect my laptop?

So I went back.

Later she came into my room and was surprisingly cordial when I told her I was unable to get the cash. She sent me her IBAN to transfer the money online. But since I had withdrawn £220, I no longer had £620 in my account I could send her. Never mind the fact that she was claiming on her insurance too as well as claiming from me - which is classed as fraud in my country. But what could I do? And what about food?

So the next day, Monday, I went to the International Relations Office at the university to see if they could help. Interestingly, Felicia had not been to them about me. She wanted to go down the legal route only. The university said they could not transfer me to another dormitory. So I had to look elsewhere.

I booked into a nearby hotel, and packed all of my belongings into my suitcases and IKEA bags. My German friend Esther (not real name) knocked on my door when everything was packed, and her big blue eyes began to cry.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” she sobbed, and we embraced. “They’re so horrible,” she said. Esther had been the first victim in the dormitory of their gossiping and goal to sabotage people’s reputations. I would miss her. She was very kind and helpful in every way, a genuinely lovely person.

She, along with Marie, helped take my belongings to the hotel. I was angry with Marie, but she was a few years younger than most of us, and she was very gullible and naive. Very sweet though, I had liked her. But now she believed everything Alina said. This day was the last I saw her.

I booked 3 nights at the hotel. Would 3 days be enough to find a new place to live? Could I find a room in a flat halfway through the semester in a country where I do not speak the language? With no money?

I’m always up for a challenge.

Before I had been given the bed in the dorm, I had joined accommodation groups for Warsaw on Facebook just in case I had not been allocated the room.

I spent the first night at the hotel surfing the web, replying to adverts on websites, messaging Airbnb hosts and more, until 2am when suddenly I got a notification on Facebook. I would have usually called it a spam notification, but I opened it.

“Room posted for rent for erasmus student” I think it read. The photos were of a nice looking room, unfurnished, but for 1200zł a month (£255 or $344), and posted by a Polish man. I messaged him immediately, introducing myself and asking when I could view the flat.

I had to add an extra night onto my stay at the hotel, but I had moved into this new flat by the end of the week, my deposit used to buy furniture of my choice. My room, as it turned out, had been the living room! It also boasted a balcony, and was on the top floor of the apartment block. My flat mates were two Polish men, only 3 years older than me, and we got along very well.

But that hadn’t meant I had escaped the mess I’d made.

Felicia was still threatening me over whatsapp. “I want my money now! Give me my money!”

Her boyfriend started sending threatening messages too, them both over Whatsapp and Facebook, then one of her friends, as well as harassing Esther and my Italian friend Stefano (again not real name).

But I didn’t have my grant yet, and had busted my overdraft on the rent and deposit for this new flat, and the hotel. My home university said it would be 3 weeks until I got the grant. I was barely eating.

So I contacted the university Ombudsman, a woman whose job it was to resolve disputes between students. I had a meeting with her and her colleague, a lawyer, on November 14. I wasn’t exactly keen on the two women, but I told them the whole truth.

They advised me that this was not a problem that I could ignore and it would go away. They set out a few paths I could follow, but they would all lead to my giving of financial compensation to Felicia. So my aim was to pay the least, and get an agreement in my favour.

Right. Time to take control of the situation.

I chose to do a face to face mediation with Felicia. I did not want to face her, but it would be with the Ombudsman and the lawyer present, who had heard my point of view first (it’s human nature to be more inclined toward the first version of the story you hear), and meant that if Felicia got angry, violent or uncooperative again, they would see.

So they had a meeting with her the week after to note her perspective. Felicia agreed to the mediation. Even though she wanted to take this through the police and the courts, she could not be seen to refuse a meeting with me designed to solve her problem.

I was given the choice of two times for the mediation on November 30. 9:30, or 13:30. I chose 9:30. Remember how she’s always up at 4am? She would be very tired, this more likely to be irritable and less cooperative. It was also snowing very, very heavily, and she was from the south of Spain. Would she be prepared for this weather?

It all went exactly according to my plan.

Felicia arrived in tracksuit (sweats), whilst I wore a knee length pleated skirt, snow-appropriate leather boots, a flowery professional top, and freshly washed hair and appropriate makeup. I looked professional, and she looked slovenly. I sat up straight, she slouched. She interrupted me many times, so that the ombudsman had to tell her to stop, and I did not interrupt her. It was hard because she was so rude and throwing accusations, but I had to make sure that I got what I wanted put onto the contract the Ombudsman and the lawyer would draw up.

They had made Felicia bring proof of a receipt of her new laptop, so she couldn’t scam me out of any more money than I owed her. It turned out the reason she had asked for 700€ was that her parents were paying her her new one out of her monthly pocket money - which was 700€! Man, I would love to receive 700€ a month! What a spoilt little brat.

The new laptop costed 320€, so it was put in the contract that I was to pay that - less than half of what she was originally demanding! Win. In addition, the clause I was aiming for was added after I asked. “Is it possible that we can add a clause into the agreement that says Felicia cannot take any legal action against me?”

“Yes of course.”

And it was.

We were to sign it on the 14th of December. I came and signed all 4 copies, but she did not turn up to the signing - instead on the 18th she signed. I was to pay by the 21st. I sent the money on the 20th, then collected my copy of the very official looking agreement.

So I won.

I paid less than half of what she had tried threatening out of me, I moved into a lovely newly renovated flat with wonderful flatmates (instead of 50 mostly disrespectful xenophobic ones), and she cannot take me to court.

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daily-nicotine · 7 years

Note

Where's the LLxPersona we deserve? (but absolutely don't need right now)

l i s t en

im still salty why FeMC is not canon i need herrrr

this is all according to my opinion (there will be a lot of inaccuracies please forgive me)

Honoka: THEFOOL“The Fool Arcana does not mean it that can be taken lightly. The Fool isnumber zero. It is the void from which all other things begin.“

Because thenumber zero/ having no number holds infinite possibilities. It has nothing andtherefore, has the potential to be anything. However, the Fool speaks of thepossibility of nothing. Where there is nothing, there is the potential forgrowth in any direction.

Honoka wasthe start of it all and the general characteristics of the fool is totally likeher. Of course, being the fool means she needs friends to continue on herjourney. which led to her meeting everyone and pushed her towards her goal. Notletting the school close.

Umi: THEJUSTICE“To find the one true path, one must seek guidance amidst uncertainty…”

This card ismaking decisions based on facts and the truth as opposed to making decisionsbased on emotions. It’s also about bringing things back into balance. Withthat, the card’s appearance also suggests that a fair amount of cool-headednessand a sense of realism is required.

Honestly,this is the only card im confident to assign to her because Umi is the mostlevel-headed person and no matter what, the right thing must always followthrough. Training regimen, not tolerating honoka’s lazy behaviour, or rin’s, ormaybe even nico’s lmao but of course reversed meaning biased ahem umi-chan onegai

Kotori: THELOVERS“ There is both joy and wonder in coming to understand another…”

Sure TheLovers represents the obvious (love, passion, bonds, etc.), but it alsorepresents choices or duality. The Lovers are plural and they need bothindividuals in order to be so. As for the choices part, it can represent amajor fork in the road coming up. Major choices are going to need to be made.Just like a relationship, sometimes you’ll have to chose one thing over anotherin order to make things work out.

which leadsus to that last part in season 1 where she was indecisive whether she would goabroad or not. because going abroad means she’ll have to stop becoming an idoland leaving her two bestfriends and that would be a huge change in herlifestyle

Rin: THE MAGICIAN”Attaining one’s dream requires a stern will and unfailingdetermination.”

The cardrepresents wanting to achieve something and having the self-power to achieveit. It can also represent taking the first step towards one’s plans (orpersonal growth), but is generally more about the fact that one has all of theresources to do something at hand and they just need to push forward.

based on theevents of season 1 where rin gives that little push to pana to join the idolclub and even to maki. The magician guides the fool through the first step asit represents the potential of a new adventure. however, when dealing withissues of their own, they need that simple push to continue on and as seen ins2 where rin refused to wear the dress and tried many ways to avoid it. butpana and the others ultimately gave her the confidence she needed to try it outand let me tell you she was really adorable there i swoon

Maki: THEHERMIT”It requires great courage to look at oneself honestly, and forge one’s ownpath…“

Portrayed asan old man in a dark place or cave, holding up a lantern, the Hermit isassociated with wisdom, introspection, solitude, retreat and philosophicalsearches. Similarly, Hermit Arcana characters share the commonality of placingthemselves in situations that hide them from the public eye. Hermit individualshide away from others or act in more supportive roles rather than putting themselvesin the spotlight.

all truecorresponding to maki’s personality. not wanting to join the idolclub in the first place, she supported honoka by giving her the cd for theirfirst performance. she likes to hide in the music room and isolate herself fromeveryone else. not feeling judged. she’s in a safe haven. this is the negativeside of it. the isolation. there are two lessons to learn from it; the need towithdraw from society to be comfortable with oneself and the need to come outof isolation to share knowledge with others

Hanayo: THE STRENGTH“ Only with strength can one endure suffering and torment.“

Strengthhere refers to knowing about your inner desires and keeping them in check.Suppressing desire altogether isn’t the correct answer either though. In thiscase, it’s about understanding yourself and using that to push forward. Thiscard can also symbolize inner female empowerment. Instead of suppressing yourown desires and just being passive about attaining things, go all out. You’llnever get what you want if you don’t chase after it with all your might.

Because of pana’stimid personality. She often doubts herself whether or not she can become agreat idol and gets lost in all of her insecurities. Her pessimism is also aplus. But we see how much she has grown. Using her desire in becoming an idol,she used it as her strength. Her inspiration. And therefore, overcame thehurdles of intimidation and insecurities because pana is awesome and we alllove our rice goddess

Nico: THE STAR”It’s a strong card,one that gives hope to those on the ground below. It shines in times of need.But, eventually, it is destined to fall to the earth and disappear… Even Ican feel the sadness of this inescapable destiny…“

It’s one of those feel good cards thatpeople like getting because it means that there are better things to comesometime in the future. Think of those stereotypical movies with a scene wherethe protagonist feeling depressed, but for whatever reason, looking at somestar in the sky somehow sparks an epiphany and suddenly everything is okay again. Just because it appears though doesn’tmean immediate changes. You could still be stuck in a slump for some timebefore the whole hope thing kicks in. The important thing though is thatsomething better is out there for you, and you just need to look for it.

Terrible situations lmao of course nicowith her financial difficulties, her failure in her first year with her idolclub, not being able to reach her dream of becoming the number one idol and thedeath of her dad. All of those were setbacks but it didn’t stop her. Being thenumber one idol in the universe is a huge deal and thinking of how she wouldget there hurts my heartstrings a lot because she’ll go through hell and backto make it come true. It’s the hope the nico always carried. It may be wishfulthinking to others with such an outrageous dream but she will never give up onit. the Star symbolizes to have trust and confidence in the future. Also theneed to cry. donttouchmeimcrying

Eli: THE EMPEROR”Only courage in the face of doubt canlead one to the answer…”

The Emperorsymbolizes the desire to control one’s surroundings, and its appearance couldsuggest that one is trying too hard to achieve this, possibly causing troublefor others; some elements in life are just not controllable. This card is aboutassertiveness and maintaining your own power over a situation. Just like a realemperor, it’s about standing above people and maintaining that order that makesthings run.

S1 eli was really like this and tried notto entertain honoka’s idea. Being the student council and all, she needed totake control of things before they got out of hand which resulted to manythings. She also didn’t want for the school to close but she thought that theiridea wasn’t going to help. And eli being eli she shouldered the responsibilityall for herself. Nonetheless, she learned to understand. It’s okay to get help.There’s nothing wrong with that. And from there she regained her stability. Hersense of control.

Nozomi: THE EMPRESS“Celebrate life’s grandeur…itsbrilliance…its magnificence…”

The Empress card is kind of like TheMagician in that it’s all about creation. However, where The Magician was aboutcontrol and pushing forward, The Empress is more about letting things grownaturally and at their own pace. The card also stand for and naturalgrowth. In tarot readings, the Empress represents mothers, prosperity,creativity, sexuality, abundance, fertility, protection, and comfort (mostoften in helping maintain peace around them like an ideal mother would.)

It was nozomi who pieced all the characterstogether. She was always lurking somewhere, ready to guide. She’s the goddess asshe is the one who named the group and stringed all the relationships together.As seen in s1, she already knew they needed nine people to form the group. She justlet things go at their own pace, slowly but surely. Let’s not forget she saidthat if μ’s were a family, she’d be the mother. Althroughouts1 and s2, we see her motherly instincts come and go and it led me to believewowowow boy do I love nozomi the queen

Also id like to point out thatshe can also be the high priestess and the hierophant. The priestess is a symbol of hidden knowledge or other untappedpower, wisdom, female mystery and magic when it appears in tarot readings.TheHierophant is kind of like The High Priestess in that it represents knowledge.On the other hand though, The Hierophant is about bringing wisdom to othersinstead of secretive knowledge. This card is about taking what one alreadyknows and applying it to real life or sharing it with others. Kind of like ateacher. It can also indicate a solution to a problem. On the reversed side,this card means being unwilling to listen to what others are trying to teach.It can also stand for being stuck somewhere because you refuse to listen tosomeone else’s wisdom

not all of these are mine!

credits: https://pitiedthefool.dreamwidth.org/3045.html

http://metanorn.net/2012/06/divining-fate-an-analysis-of-tarot-cards-in-persona

#too long!!#but i enjoyed this #kotori can also be an empress #and honoka a star #where is femc #i need her #POINT OUT ANYTHING IF THERES SOEMTHING WRONG #i cant make words #they all seem so weird to me #anon youre giving me too many ideas show yourself #today my dad found an ijured bird and i dnt know what to do with it #it's sleeping now but i hope my dog doesnt distubr it #he's angery #i had to push him outta the wa becuase son you dont do that to tiny birds #i just hope it gets better so it can fly #anonymous #Persona #Shin Megami Tensei #love live

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