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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 6 months

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⭐⭐⭐ talk away!!! pls talk about whatever suits your fancy, maybe what kinds of traits and themes draw you to a character/story idea, or what themes or traits you notice reappearing in a lot of your works?

oooooh hi hello!!!! thank you for sending this and enabling me lol

okay, so as for what i'm drawn to -- i definitely have a Thing(TM) for poor soggy little meow meows lol. i like my female characters to resemble wet orphan kittens abandoned in the rain lol, but also have a very strong side to them that is in direct opposition to their soggy-meow-meowness lol. i really enjoy that duality. i enjoy that in all sorts of characters, and when it comes to fanfic i do read m/m and only very occasionally m/f pairings, but i am very rarely -- if ever -- inspired to write for them. i guess the formula for what compels me to write something is the combination of 1. soggy woman i wanna keep in a jar 2. is it something i want to read and feel there isn't much of in the world?

i exclusively write f/f pairings and woman-centred storylines -- not bc it's the only thing i enjoy in fiction, but bc it's the sort of thing i wanted to read when i was young and there was just so little of it, and i found it almost exclusively in fanfiction, with some exceptions such as sarah waters novels that i really enjoyed, but weren't translated in my language when i was a kid so i did struggle with them a bit (i would really wanna reread those now that i have a better grasp of the english language and am no longer a tween lol, i wonder if my opinion on them would change). i like to write from experience, and my experience is that of a rather odd gay woman moving through the world, so i like to channel that in my fiction. i feel like i'm Qualified(TM) to write it lol.

i'm about to be an old man shaking my fist at the world and demanding people get out of my swamp lol, but i feel like even though there has been a huge change in the amount of wlw storylines media we are Served every year (when i was a teen i feel i could count them all, that's how few movies/books there were, and at one point it was like okay..... i've seen it all lol or at least all that was accessible to me). and even though the media landscape has changed drastically in the last 10 years, i still feel like there are such few stories that really resonate with me? and we are generally being bombarded with very meaningless stories/media, just regurgitating the same shit over and over again (disney live action remakes are a good example of that trend, saying that as someone who was always a fan of disney if you couldn't guess by my username lol, and hasn't seen any of the remakes bc i simply Do Not Care, stopped caring around 2014 when maleficent came out). if you asked me to name a wlw story, or even a woman-centric story that doesn't involve a male love interest, that i really, truly enjoy, i feel like i'd struggle a bit. we get a lot of storylines in media that, imo, lack substance, and are often audience pandering (idk why supergirl came to mind, but it's a good example i feel). and tbh, the audience isn't picky. most people will just watch whatever lol, and honestly good for them but i Cannot lol. it needs to Hit A Spot for me. as for books, there is a better choice there i feel, but a lot of it is ya novels and i am simply not interested in that lol. no shade, but it's just not something i like to read. i want an old hollywood style romance with lesbians. i want phantom of the opera, i want the Drama(TM), i want a fucking hugh grant cheesy movie with lesbians. and so that's what i like to write -- just things i always wanted but never had lol.

i feel like in my works the Themes(TM) that appear a lot are:

1. loneliness and finding something or rather someone that quenches the thirst for company in a way that matters (i have always found irl that there's a lot of people who listen but don't hear what you're saying, and since i was a child i was always searching for people who will genuinely try to understand where i'm coming from and not just immediately try to put me in a box in their mind so they can Place Me somewhere and understand me in their own language. can you try to understand me in mine?)

2. pondering of morality, what's right and wrong and is there such a thing, rejecting and questioning societal norms.

3. a lot of kinky lesbian sex lol, through which i like to explore the psyche of the characters (or sometimes i'm just horny lol and sexuality and kink is something i like to think about a lot, esp bc my formative years were so traumatic in that aspect)

4. very character driven plots/characters changing their own fate or what *should* happen to them

5. the Intricacies of interpersonal relationships/developing a deep connection with someone and generally exploring emotional connection

6. this will be most prominent in the thing i am yet to post but is almost written, but i do enjoy some horror elements, gothic horror to be specific! i guess it's all the gothic novels i read in my youth :))

#i got an ask!#oh i enjoyed to ramble about this #i feel like my style is very Specific but i struggle to like. name it or grasp it fully if that makes sense lol #i should ask my wife but she is Asleep #sort of forgot to mention -- but i do love to be challenged #i get bored very easily #so i look to challenge myself with each new fic i write!

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timmymyluv · 2 years

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STARGIRL.

FAKE INSTA AU

FC: rosé of blackpink

kpop fem!idol reader x timothée chalamet

hi everyone! this is going to be my first official soc med au after my trip. sorry i haven’t posted in a while - not only fighting jet lag and trying to arrange things before my surgery (small area and of no concern but i will be out 6 weeks so im trying to do as much as i can before im bed ridden haha)

was going to post my older drafts in order of their creation but seeing my fc girlie rosie and flo i couldn’t resist finishing this one first! hope u like this mwah

enews

liked by haileesteinfeld,prideofgypsies, zoeisabellakravitz and 1.2m others

kpop idol turned actress yn ln? yn has been spotted the past few weeks on the gossip girl reboot set. while her role has not been announced as the show is tight lipped about the cast list, we wouldn’t be surprised if she bags the main character slot soon. xoxo gossip girl.

tagged yourusername

fans8 ACTRESS YNNNNN

fan2 oh so we’re now never getting a comeback thanks 💀

ynfan1 omg didn’t yn say gossip girl was her fav show and serena was her style icon and now she’s on the reboot we love a manifestation girlie 🌟

user123 i only imagine yn and tim watching gg together for date night

tchalamet and we will be tuned in!

timoyn5ever OMGG TIMO

randomuser he never comments on these things he’s whipped

user3 find me a man who hype me up like this fr

hater7 boo yn can’t act kpop idols are always flops in front of the camera they cant act she’ll give emotionless fish face

user77 ok troll move on bye

user8 not giving you a time of day bye hater

deuxmoi

liked by chalafans, ynforever777, and 345k others

actor timothee chalamet and fiancee singer-somgwriter yn ln spotted together at an exclusive hollywood dinner last night!

tagged yourusername, tchalamet

fans7 they’re so cute i love my mom and dad

user111 not timo looking at the camera and never caught off guard

timfan photogenic king you’ll never see him miss!

user224 and yn not giving a fuck just eating and minding their business they’re so funny i love them fr

bpfanbase yn and timo networking and making money moves we love a power couple

florencepugh

liked by lauradern, ethanhawke, jessicachastain and 56.8m others

our wedding photos 😁😌love you my wife. married 06.09.22

tagged yourusername, tchalamet

tchalamet NOW WAIT A MINUTE 😡

florencepugh you snooze you lose tough guy

zendaya see when you wait too long?

yourusername that’s right

lauradern congrats to the love birds! 🤗

user6 NOT LAURA THINKING ITS REALL

user02 she’s probably just going with the joke kjsd

ewanmcgregor happy marriage!

dualipa well thanks for not inviting me and not making me maid of honour 🙄

yourusername sorry it was short notice to book the venue

user2 i love flo and yn they’re so cute so lovely i love my girls they care me

yourusername

liked by sukiwaterhouse, sadiesink, honeymoon and 67.1m others

shine bright like a diamond 💎✨thanks for having me @/tiffanyandco tonight at the release of the new collection.

tagged tiffanyandco

theweeknd my stargirl ❤️‍🔥

yourusername 🖤

tchalamet my angel

yourusername my light my love

thatuser SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

blink194 where’s the comeback missy? 🤬

yourusername soon.

user34 THIS IS SO OMINOUS HELLO?

usernamehere ok let’s be nice in the comments and not mean ok

liked by yourusername

user6 yn blink if you’ve been recording for a new bp album recently

yourusername blinks

random3 OH MY GODD

kidcudi stunning as always

yourusername thanks bro!! miss ya let’s chat soon

kidcudi 🙏

chalametupdates

liked by ynfans223, deuxmoi and 1.4m others

finally timothee spotted today in nyc with his assistants and make up/hair crew! he was recently seen on his way to his new shared loft with yn in the upper east side.

tagged tchalamet

yourusername lord he looks so good

user9 YN THIS IS NOT UR PRIV

yourusername idc i have nothing to hide he is my man and i am proud 😁

inactiveuser oh to be yn and show off your s/o as timmy wish that were me

yourusername he's so sexc PLEASE

tchalz8 she’s just like us spazzing so real

user12 except she’s his fiancee and the love of his life 😭

yourusername had me crying in the club

user87 didn’t you just see him like last week

yourusername and?

random9 she has a point fr

yourusername on my knees at a walmart buying groceries he's so sick for this

yourusername head in hands

user5 HE LIVES

random234 AND WE GOT A PULSE

timo.chalz was afraid we’d have to name a death time and all god i missed him so much 😭

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margle · 11 months

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15 (ish) questions for 15 (ish) mutuals (but I didnt do that part sorry)

thanks @cowboycharmac , @translesbianvampire , @number-one-hog-hater , @23meteorstreet for the tags!

were you named after anyone?

sort of. I asked my mum and she listed a few people but the main one is a very hedonistic character from a book.so that’s a fun role to fill. the other people are a bit more daunting in their accomplishments.

do you have kids?

no and I dont want any.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

not very often, I guess. ive been told I am very difficult to read if im telling a joke or not. especially sarcasm. im mostly sarcastic when im being mean rather than funny. I guess im more likely to be dry?

what's the first thing you notice about people?

I honestly have no clue. definitely not their shoes. and probably not their face because I can never remember what people look like. I sat in a car with my driving instructor for months but could not tell you what he looked like. physically, I probably notice hair and clothes first? but otherwise if im meeting someone new I just notice whether they talk to me or not and how they hold a conversation.

what's your eye color?

blue/green.

scary movies or happy endings?

im a wimp and I dont like scary movies. so I guess I prefer happy endings, although I dont mind some tragedy. for tv I almost exclusively watch comedies. i dont watch a lot of films so i’ll mostly watch what other people want. im a fan of rewatching, so it is rare I will willingly watch something new on my own. as for books, ill read anything! but especially interesting gothic classics and translated books. I like slice of life and anything with great world building. not a huge fan of ya probably because it was all I read when I was younger so I got a bit bored of it.

any special talents?

I never know how to answer that. im decent at various things but nothing in particular. if you showed me a relatively common uk bug I think I would be able to id it.

what are your hobbies?

im into entymology. I like taking pictures of bugs and recording their species. there are other things I do, but im hesitant to call them hobbies because I dont do them that regularly.

have any pets?

yes! a beautiful, wonderful cat.

what sports do you play/have you played?

I dont play sport regularly. did the usual sports at school. (I did some more interesting stuff but im trying to be humble. im big into baseball - Ive got a batting average of .328, have 118 home runs and batted in 1014 runs. im also in the baseball hall of fame. that’s right guys, im baseball superstar wade boggs. Im a true american - I love baseball and posting on tumblr and my family and beer)

how tall are you?

I honestly dont know. 5 foot something. that should narrow it down.

favorite subject in school?

I liked english lit in later school. earlier on I liked all the arty stuff best. textiles was a lot of fun but the teacher was a prick.

dream job?

games design but im shite at coding. :( conservation work would be cool. havent decided yet. when I was a kid I wanted to be a farmer and used to like planning my future farm layout. now I just play stardew valley.

im not sure who to tag because I think most of my mutuals have been tagged by other people already. or have already done it. ive spent too long deliberating over who to tag/not tag. and so this is an open invitation to whoever wants to do this. you dont have to be my mutual! I know this kinda defeats the point of these things but gah idk I never do these.

#personal

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antimony-medusa · 2 years

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Fanfic ask! 15 and 35

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

hahahah okay guys so I've written exclusively for minecraft fanfiction so you are both the most normal and the weirdest. Sorry. However the direct inspiration for the latest thing I wrote was a richard silken poem, the wikipedia article about burial methods, a hugo acceptance speech about whalefall, and wilbur soot, so that one probably counts as especially weird.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Okay so. I came into fanfic from writing over in original fiction, and I loved to hear people talk about craft, but mostly I was trying to read (and write) YA spec fic, MG spec fic, and grownup spec-fic (from a few trusted authors). A lot of adventures and worldbuilding and puzzles and heroism and community, etc. I was getting less and less into the romance plots in YA and trying to avoid them, hence simultaniously diverging into MG and books for the adult market.

A couple years ago I noticed a phenomenon that people were tying to talk about but were having difficulty with, because when people say “reads like fanfiction” when they’re talking in published work they mean it derogatorily (because of an expectation of no original characters or derivative or uh, often sexism but we’ll move past that), but people were trying to say this as a tonal note that wasn’t about character work or something, about people who’d really gotten their start in fanfic and weren’t hiding that. There was a specific tone and we were all trying to figure out what it was.

Anyways I finally figured out what I was trying to describe a couple months into reading almost exclusively fanfic and trying to narrow down on what I want to read so I could search for it.

When you are reading a story, usually there is a central mystery or problem that the reader is trying to figure out. When it’s a mystery, it’s a really obvious thing— it’s a literal mystery. When you’re reading literary fiction (the pinaccle of show don’t tell), you’re trying to figure out the interior world of the charcters you’re seeing on stage in front of you. When you’re reading spec fic, the problem you’re trying to unfurl is now the how the world works. (When we’re talking in huge broad strokes here.) Going from one genre to another can be jarring, cause if you’re used to trying to figure out what’s going on with interiority in a character, you hit SF, and it gets incredibly boring because the story just tells you shit about how your character is feeling, because the story isn’t concerned (as a first order of structure) with the interior lives of its characters. The story is concerned with how a military fleet abandoned in a nebula has built a civilization of permanent readiness and honor-duty-sacrifice and mandatory nostalgia for an empire that fell two centuries ago and also how you keep air recyclers going. Meanwhile someone from SF swans into a literary fiction book and goes “what the hell this is set in suburbia and there’s just a guy having three affairs for no reason he explains, and he has GOT to be alcoholic how much is he drinking”.

Barriers between genres are always permeable, especially in a world where people buy books online and stories don’t have to be shelved in specific spots, however, those are like, huge broad strokes of genre concerns. You get genres with external plots (SF, mystery, thriller), you get genres with internal plots (romance, literary fiction, yes they do that in totally different ways), and broadly there’s a certain tone to how stories are structured that you can tell from where you pick up a book in the bookstore and what the cover art looks like. Horror does its own thing, nobody is doing it like horror.

Meanwhile (I told you I was taking it back to fanfic), fan writers often take characters who are from media where the central concern is not really the interior lives of the characters (tv medical dramas, superhero franchises, cooking shows, minecraft roleplay), and it puts the interior lives back in, because it loves the characters. The central concern of the genre is not as much required here, because everyone is already familiar with the world, so we take these people and we focus on internal lives and internally-driven plots, whether that’s about someone coming to grips with their grief or falling in love or slowly healing or going on a self-destructive vengance spree.

People were saying “it reads like fanfic but I mean that in a good way” with authors who were doing the normal genre constraints but also bringing in internally-driven character plots (most often concerned with healing and flourishing) into their space dramas.

Anyways I figured this out cause I love externally driven plots with interiority as order two and I had to find authors who did the interiority but were also concerned with air recyclers.

[Fic questions for Writers]

#dayables #ask game

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brooklynislandgirl · 2 years

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♥ When they have a crush on someone, how do they let them know?

♥ Do they have at least one bonding activity they devote to doing with their partner exclusively?

♥ Have they had dreams about their partner/the person they are courting? [specifying Peter / Spider-Man]

♥ Tell us about a sacrifice they made for their significant other. [specifying Eddie / Venom]

The Courtship of a Nurse Shark || Accepting

“Yeah...how ‘bout...no, and why would you? Wha’ is even da point?” Beth replies quickly, but so thin, so quiet as to almost not be heard. She angles her chin down and pushes the chili cheese fry around on her plate with the same fork she had just about speared it with before the question was asked. Some people say that she doesn’t blink. Or if she does, it’s some half-lidded attempt that sees her rolling her eyes upward. Maybe they are right. Maybe its because she lacks the nictitating membrane to do so properly. But she does so now, with her face angled out of the way, and it is a long one. She doesn’t need to cleanse dust from the green depths, nor does she need to moisten them any more than they already are. It’s better this, though, than heaving the sigh that seems stuck in her throat. “All it evah does is bring hurt dat broke da heart, da kine can’t be put back togeddah. If ya lucky, it’s a chemical imbalance in ya brain an’ it eventually wear off. S’why dey call it a crush, right? If ya so lonely, an’ ya need love an’ companionship, ya much beddah off gettin’ yaself a pet.” ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ It was a mistake. Coulson was known to make a few, he can’t be human without them. She and Jemma get on like a house on fire, at least without the screaming. They’re much too civilised, according to Simmons. It’s because she doesn’t want to end up in a cell, Beth would say, if she said anything at all. He says it takes time to settle in, like finding the right space for the right piece, and with that he fits two seemingly incompatible pieces together on the puzzle they’re doing. She looks at him, then at the box, brows knitted. The lid doesn’t have a complete image on it, and she doesn’t know how he makes it look so easy. She asks how he knows. He gives her that smile of his, infinitely patient. She doesn’t come out of what amounts to her room unless it’s the dead of night. She takes a thermos of coffee and three energy bars from the kitchen area. And Coulson nearly scares her half to death by sitting on her bed when she returns. He tells her to walk with him, it’s a little too cramped and too inappropriate. They end up sitting in Lola in companionable silence. Eventually, he tells her stories. ~*~ Fitz sides with his partner. Everyone knows they are lock step. Skye has Ward. Coulson has May. In the cockpit, the woman frowns. “She’s taken to staying in her cabin. Only way I’m sure she’s come out is we’re an extra person short on coffee, and I think there was three missing energy bars. Are you sure this was the right decision?” “She left three books outside my door.” May looks unconvinced that that means anything. In return, Beth finds three CDs outside hers when she is sure everyone else is asleep and goes to refill her thermos. How does he know, she likes classical music, and in particular that she loves cello most of all? There’s no file with that in it. No interview. She wonders if maybe Uncle is a little magick, himself.

~*~ A few weeks later, he finds her sitting in Lola, again. Soft cloth in hand. She’s wiping down the dash in slow, purposeful circles. She doesn’t greet him but she doesn’t flinch, when he pops the hood. She doesn’t also seem to realise he’s giving her a blind to hide behind. “You know fantasy isn’t really my thing,” he says. “But the common theme I noticed was a sense of not fitting in. Do you want to talk about that? Or are you saying you feel like you’re being sacrificed to Lloth?” For the first time in a while, he hears a particular sound. It’s soft, barely audible, but it’s a giggle. The giggle becomes a hushed sort of laugh and eventually she makes her way out of the car and to his side. One spindly arm wraps around his waist, her cheek presses into his arm. Her other small hand hovers over the pristine engine. A beat goes by. Another.

“She say you’re a good man. Dat I goddah keep my promise. An’ dat ya pronunciation of Menzoberranzan is atrocious.” ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Summer in New York is something of a different beast. It isn’t the heavy wet-heat of the southern states, where even a single step outside coats you like a blanket pulled out from the dryer while still soaking, and making it hard to breathe. Even if it is humid. It isn’t the heat of the desert, bone dry and similar to a kiln, sucking out any sort of moisture and making everything into weird kinds of jerky. Even if it is hot. Heat settles like breath between buildings in the city. Gets trapped there. Reflects from the side walk and the asphalt, bounces between the high rises. That’s not to mention the certain pervasive smell of the garbage bags stewing in a morass on the walks waiting to be picked up. Maybe Beth is lucky then, to live in Brooklyn, and a particularly well kept, upscale neighbourhood made for a different sort of life. It’s hot but she can appreciate it. She leaves a window open and a fan blowing softly and it’s almost enough to pretend she’s home. She can hear the water calling to her. A lullaby to nudge her into the little sleep she gets by on. And perhaps the dreams that flitter at the edge of her mind take on something of a sultry nature. Her heart races as they swing over the city, only her infinite control over her own body controlling the urge to expel the contents of her stomach. Not that she thinks he will drop her. Not that she imagines falling at all, but Beth is a creature of the earth and the ocean, not one meant to fly. Eventually the sensation flickers, becomes a thick hammock of webbing, swaying gently in the breeze. She should find this as unnerving, but she knows that Spider is a totem of cunning, even if allied with with C’et. Her boons and bans seem to serve Ku’uku’u well, even if he doesn’t feel Her...well would it be hands? Beth doesn’t know, but he seems in no danger from Her. What is dangerous is the way his hand trails up and down along the curve of her side, from the edge of her bikini top to the top of her skirt, though never straying impolitely beyond each physical border. Makes a light layer of goosebumps come alive and makes her fingers tighten at his hip. He’s whispering things in her ear and while her dream-self seems to be enjoying it, the rest of her mind doesn’t record the actual words. Languidly she stretches. Becomes a canvas for his touch. The mask slips up and allows his lips to forge new pathways. Her body reacts to her dreaming one’s stimuli and she writhes in the cool sheets beneath her. Warmth paints her skin in shades of blush. Limbs curl and shift. Her knees come together as do her thighs, trapping some of the thin cotton of her nightgown. Her breath is shallow, quick. Becomes a gasp. A name. “Pika.”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Please...” “You are in control of this. You can cooperate, and we will let him be.” Through the glass, she can see Eddie laying on the floor, coated in sweat and dried blood almost to the point of anonymity. She doesn’t have to hear him to see the rictus of his face, the muscles pulled taut, lips cracked and desperate for moisture. All of him vibrating at a frequency she cannot calculate, that he is screaming enough for the both of them. “Stop. Stop, please.” “Come along to the lab then.” Whatever sound was being broadcast seems to die out as she turns away, in time to see Eddie curling up into a fetal position. She couldn’t say what hurts more; watching Them be tortured, or seeing even a glimpse of the aftermath. Eddie. Her Eddie. So strong, so powerful but still gentle. Stil out to serve truth rather than violence. “In order to do what you ask... you’ll have to remove this collar.” “And how long do you think the specimen will live if we are forced to kill the host?” Long enough, she hopes. Long enough. “You needn’t have to threaten me,” she says with very brittle English. “You want me to engineer a more perfect host. You want me to...recreate...what They are. And how do you expect me to do so, if you cut off the very ability you require? If the price is keeping them both alive, and unharmed, then I will do it.” She only hopes that they forgive her. ~*~ Every attempt she has made comes to nothing. She can duplicate Eddie’s genetic code down to the smallest quirk of dna. She doesn’t recognise the specific Klyntar material she has on hand, she can’t even be sure it is Beloved’s, and she is as intimately familiar with it as she can be. She can reproduce the feel of His substance. It is certainly organic. It should have life, but it doesn’t. And worse, it breaks down within hours. Every failure is met with reprisal, Eddie’s to bear, and Beloved’s. Not hers. Never hers. But not all of it is fruitless. There’s a degree of control that they don’t realise she has. She alters herself to be immune. The one time they let her see Them again, it’s through glass. That is all it takes. They don’t realise touch is a luxury she gives herself, but if desperate enough... And Beth is desperate. She is a shepherd of Life. Her duty is to protect it, guide it. She’d made an oath to do no harm. Not just to a medical board, either. She’d promised him. And now, she’s breaking it. ~*~ The first people who end up on the floor look like something out of a horror film; hemorrhagic fever is potentially life-threatening, which is why Dengue, Ebola, Lassa are all so feared. Tiny blood vessels break. They cause the body to be unable to form clots. The fever is a nice touch, but is meaningless once the organs begin to break down, the liver...the kidneys...eventually the heart. And it’s in the air vents. It’s in the hallways. Like sand, it’s everywhere. She grieves for the loss of life, the innocent ones. The ones who like them are here only because they are different. This does not fall on Beth’s shoulders, but rather the Admiral’s. She takes the required key cards and makes her way down the hall. Her bare feet leave sticky red prints in their wake. And soon, the alarms die with a simple wave of her hand. They don’t like that much noise, her Beloved and Eddie. And soon, They will be free. She’s made sure of it.

#Mahalo!Matt <333 #Lost in Translation|N S F W #Blood TW #Disease TW #A Guy-A Girl-and Some Goo|Eddie-Beth-Beloved #Webs and Fins|Spidey and Beth #Every Girl Needs a Hero|Phil and Beth #Various Marvel Verses #TERMINALLY Long Post ~ Save yourself and don't bitch at me.

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angelikook · 2 years

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Hi, friends!

There’s something that has been bothering me lately and I just can’t not get it out. So, here I am.

I think it was around June or July when I posted my last fic, the one titled Discombobulation. After I posted it, I kinda went on a semi-hiatus because life got super crazy back in July. I also went on a short hiatus from around February to June (the time when I posted Discombobulation). But for the past few days, I’ve been active again on Tumblr. The one thing I noticed right away is how a lot of BTS fanfic writers have deactivated. I don’t know the reason behind them deactivating (I was on hiatus). Some might just move to a new account, some just leave Tumblr but not the writing community nor BTS, some might even leave the writing community altogether, and in rare cases, some leave BTS, too. In this post, I’d like to highlight those who leave Tumblr, the writing community, or both.

I might not know the specific, personal reasons of why they’re leaving, but I think I know one of the reasons. The reason being BTS fanfic writers don’t get as much feedback as they need.

While most of these writers do write because they enjoy it and are not driven by the numbers those fics generate, feedback is really helpful in order to get better. A lot if not most writers want to get better and want to practice, but if they don’t get feedback, they won’t know how to get better and what to practice on. They don’t even know what they already do well!

Before I went on a hiatus earlier this year, big writers could easily get thousands of notes. But now, even the most famous writers can hardly get 1k notes. This phenomenon is even worse for smaller, newer fanfic writers such as myself. Fics that usually can get some attention might only get so little now. And to add fuel to the fire, this is also happening on other platforms.

So, what can we do as readers? The short answer is to give feedback. You can reblog and add your own commentary to the fics, or you can simply comment so the writer knows what you think of it. If you’re shy, you can even send them an anonymous ask or a DM. I’m sure you’ll make their day by doing that. Your comment doesn't even need to be long like a book review or something, simply saying ‘I love it’ is enough.

Another thing us readers can do is to reblog. Reblogs can really push those fics to other accounts that otherwise wouldn’t see them. If you’re afraid you’d ruin your blog aesthetics, you can open a new account dedicated to reblog fics you’ve read. Although your favorite writers don’t always show it, they’re always grateful for every reblogs that they get. It’s not saying that likes don’t matter, but reblogs by far are the most effective way to promote fics.

Personally, I prepare an account exclusively for fic recommendation where I reblog and comment on the fics I’ve read.

And what can we do as writers? Basically to just keep writing and not minding the notes you get. Always remember that the number of notes doesn’t represent your worth or even your stories’ worth. Your stories will eventually find the people who can appreciate it fully.

Even with the lack of feedback, especially if you’re a new and small fanfic writer, you can still improve. You can read books, articles, or listen to podcasts about writing. If no one is handing you feedback on a silver plate, might as well learn to improve on your own. I do the same, too, since I’m quite new to this community.

What I wrote here is just a suggestion and my personal opinion, you’re of course free to do whatever is best for you.

Well, this post suddenly got way too long. This started as a sliver of thought and now turned into a full on rant. I guess I’m gonna end it here now.

See ya!

#bts fanfic #writers of tumblr #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #fanfic stuff #angelikook personal

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

I Could Care Less (About You)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

A/N: I wanted to write something around the time when Arella first got to the devildom. We all know Mammon didn't like the MC very much. It's my own thoughts that he was especially mean in those first few weeks up until they made the pact and I kind of wanted to explore that in terms of his and Arella's relationship.

It all started with small acts of kindness. Taking the fall for him when items would go missing so he wouldn’t get strung up from the ceiling, saving a plate for him when he was late for dinner, letting him copy her homework when he didn’t finish his in time. Mammon can’t understand it. He and this human hardly know anything about each other but here she is, doing little things that would make his life just a little bit easier. Hell, he’d even stolen multiple objects of value from Arella and yet she never ratted him out to his brother despite knowing damn well who did it. She just let it slide.

If he’s being honest, it scares him. Did she like him that much or could she possibly want from something from him? Mammon was sure she was gearing up to ask for a favor from him. He decided whatever it was he wouldn’t do it. He may have had the task of looking after this human forced upon him by Lucifer but he wasn’t about to sit back and comply with it.

The demon made sure to let the human know what an inconvenience she was to him almost every day- most typically whenever he had to cancel his own plans to escort her around town. She took it like a champ though, never seeming to let it bother her. She was so kind it was almost annoying. Maybe it really didn’t bother her. That must be the only reason she’s pestering him now. He did have to give her credit for her persistence though.

“Come on, Mammon! Lucifer left me in charge of the grocery shopping and I can’t go out alone or I’ll get eaten.” Arella said as she trailed after the Avatar of Greed. Having only been here in the Devildom for only a handful of weeks, she was still actually afraid that a lower demon might make a snack out of her.

“Ask one of my brothers ta take ya. I got plans and you’re not ruinin’ ‘em this time.”

Had any of the other brothers been home, Arella gladly would have asked one of them, but they weren’t- not even Mr. Shut-In himself! It was just her and her insensitive guardian demon.

“They’re not home, you know that.”

“I don’t give a shit, human! You got a phone. Just text ‘em. Now scram! I got a poker game ta get to and you’re holdin’ me up.”

“B-but-”

“Diavolo almighty,” Mammon groans as he turns to her, “I guess ya didn’t hear me clear enough the first time so I’ll say it again nice’ an’ slow for ya so try to keep up, ‘kay? I do not care about you. I hate the fact that I have to babysit ya. You could get eaten and I couldn’t care less. Infact, my life would be considerably easier if ya weren’t around. Got it?”

“O-Okay,” Arella squeaked under the intensity of the white-haired demon’s gaze. “Understandable, have a good night then.... hope you win a lot.”

“Whatever,” Mammon huffs with a roll of the eyes. “I don’t need your well wishes.” With that, Mammon turns and heads out the door.

As she watched him go, Arella bit her lip to hold back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Once she was sure the demon was gone, the human sank down to floor, quiet sobs shaking her small frame. All she wanted was just an hour or two out of his time and he wouldn’t even give her that. She had never felt so resented before in all her 21 years of life- not even when her mother was alive had it ever been this bad. Now, as she wiped at her eyes, it really set in that she was left with no other option but to do this alone- gods forbid she ask one of the others for help and then it somehow get back to Lucifer that Mammon wasn’t doing his job. She would never hear the end of it from the greedy demon.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The trip to and from the store had gone smooth enough. No demons had really bothered to pay her any mind, not even when she slipped off one of the higher shelves and smacked her head on the shopping cart resulting in the ugly bruise that had formed on the outer edge of her right eye. Bruises were something Arella was used to covering up, so it would be a simple enough task. She only had a little way left to go before she made it back to the House of Lamentation, but nothing can ever be easy for Arella.

Standing at the gates, blocking her path, was a small pack of demons. She had seen them eyeing her up in the halls at RAD during the passing periods. As they turned to her, Arella panicked- her heart rate skyrocketing as her body screamed at her to run. She wanted to but her feet wouldn’t move. It wasn’t until her brain processed that they were moving did her body actually turn to run. By then it was too late, they were upon her in seconds, knocking her to the ground with a tackle as she struggled and let out a scream.”

“Lookit you,” the one she presumed to be the leader smiled as he brushed some of the hair away from her face. “You sure do look tasty. I wonder where we should start first with you... dark or light meat?” He took a hold of her wrist, pulling it toward his mouth. He was about to bite down when...

“Hey! The fuck do the five of ya think you’re doing?!” The Avatar of Greed snarls as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. He had been in a good night after having won nearly all the games he’d played tonight before decided to call it quits- now it was soured. “Ya know what? I’m feelin’ generous tonight, so I’ll give y’all five seconds to get off that stupid human before I gut ya and string ya up by your entrails.”

He only needed until the count of one and a change into his demon form before the pack of demons made the right choice and booked it. The Avatar of Greed let out an irritated sigh as he walked over to Arella and hoisted her up by the arm.

“You’re fucking lucky, ya know that, girly? If I didn’t come home when I did, you’d be dead right now. How are you that damn stupid, huh?”

“’m sorry, I-,” Her voice was small and a little bit slurred as she tried to get her footing.

“I don’t wanna hear any excuses, right now. Just get inside the house go lay down or somethin’- whatever it is that you humans do ta calm down.” He gave her a bit of a rough shove and she scrambled for the doors while he gathered up the bags she had dropped and brought them inside the house.

Arella made a beeline for her room and curled up under the covers. Her headache from the fall earlier was even worse and now her arm was hurting from the strength of Mammon’s grip when he pulled her up from the ground.

“I want to go home....” she sniffled quietly into her pillow. “I should have never done this.”

The human thought she’d find a place for herself on this exchange programme but now she thinks this was all a big mistake. She had no idea what exactly she was signing up for only that something in the back of her mind yelling at her to do so. These last few weeks had done nothing but to serve her late mother’s words as true: that she was trash and so deserved to be treated as such.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Out in the kitchen, Mammon is unloading and putting away the groceries that weren’t crushed or broken after the incident outside when he came across a bag filled exclusively with cup noodles. There had to have been at least twenty of them that she had managed to cram into the bag- all in his favorite flavor no less. A look of surprise crossed his face. He had only mentioned this in passing to her once before and he wondered how she managed to get her hands on them as this specific flavor was kept on the top shelf of that section. Not something that would be a problem for someone as tall as himself but for her? She was 4’11”! She would have had to scale the shelfs just to have even the smallest chance of reaching them.

Setting the package of cup noodles he was holding down, Mammon looked to Arella’s door before looking back to the noodles. Again, those questions rang in his head. Just what was her deal? He thinks, she’s always doin’ all these favors for me and never asks for anything in return from me. Well, no I can’t say that... She did ask one thing of me and that was ta go grocery shoppin’ with her because she was afraid ta go alone- for me ta do the one job Lucifer assigned me and I essentially told her ta fuck off. The demon thinks back to their earlier exchange- how he could see the fear in her eyes and the tears that were starting to form right before he left. Great.... Now I feel guilty... I should probably go apologize and see if I can get her to stay quiet ‘bout this whole thing...

Knocking on the door- something the demon hardly ever did- Mammon waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he just let himself in. “Arella I-!” He stopped as there was there was a noticeable flinch from under the covers.

“I’m sorry!” She squeaked out, “Don’t hurt me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her response. Did she really think he was going to hurt her somehow? Well, all things considered, the demon can’t say he’s really all that surprised. He grabs the ends of the duvet and yanks it off of her, watching as Arella curls up and raises her arms to shield her head as if readying herself for blows that would never come.

Mammon knows that response all too intimately from the times where Lucifer would beat the ever-loving fuck out of him for indulging in his sin.

“Hey, calm down, okay. I ain’t gonna lay a hand on ya like that. Not only would Lucifer have my head, but I ain’t about beatin’ up on girls anyway.” He kneels down at the side of her bed and is horrified to see an ugly bruise marring the skin beside her eye. She does eventually calm down and pulls her arms away from her head after a few minutes of nothing happening. “Atta girl, now look at me,”

When Arella does open her pupils are dilated and now the demon is a little concerned. Humans’ pupils aren’t supposed to be that dilated, are they? That would mean... Mammon fishes his D.D.D. out of his pocket and shines the flashlight right in her eyes.

“What the fuck, Mammon!” Arella recoils as she hides her face once more and Mammon turns the flashlight off. “You’re such an ass!”

“I knew it.” He tsks, “When did you hit your head? Was it when those idiots tackled you to the ground or did you fall off one of the selves at the store?”

“I didn’t hit my head!” The human retorts, “I’m fine, my head just hurts.”

“Ya got a concussion, ya dumb human! Now out with it. Ya very obviously fell and I wanna know when it happened and how high you fell from!” For someone who couldn’t care less about her, he’s surprisingly concerned right now. If she slipped off one of the shelves at the store, he would be in hot water with Lucifer.

“I said I’m fine!” Arella abruptly stood up, swaying as she did, glaring daggers at the white-haired demon who looked up at her with a look of shock. Where did his docile little human go? “And what do you care anyway!? You said it yourself: You hate me and I’m just an inconvenience to you!”

“Now hold on a tick, I never said that exactly. You’re puttin’ words in my mouth. And you’re gonna fall standin’ on the bed like that. You’re already wobblin’.” he may not have said the part about hating her outright but at the very least he heavily implied it.

“Just get out of my ro-” She let out a yelp as she went toppling forward and the demon rushed to catch her. She landed slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“See I told ya you were gonna fall.” He huffed as he readjusted her while she pounded her fists against his back, struggling against his hold on her as he headed back out to the kitchen.

“Mammon, you put me down this instant! I’m not a sack of flour!”

“Stop being a brat and let me help ya!” The Avatar of Greed says as he places her on the island counter top. “Now stay there while I get you some ice for that bruise and some medicine for that headache of yours.”

Arella just sits there in shock of what he said. He wanted to... help her? That was new. She’s drawn out of her thoughts a few minutes later when she feels of bag of ice being pressed against the bruise. She let out a hiss as she tries to move away from it but it’s then that she notices his hand holding the other side of her face so she can’t move all that much.

“Quit squirming, will ya. It’s just a bag of ice.” He looks into her eyes before shifting the bag of ice over and running his thumb over the outside of her eye socket. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s busted in there. Ya got off lucky, kid... here take these.” he has a pill in his hand

“I’m not a kid,” Arella puffs her cheeks out in a pout. “Why’re you doing this when you said earlier that you didn’t care about me...?” she takes the medicine with a swig of water.

“Don’t get it twisted. I’m only doing this because if Lucifer finds out that you went to the store without me, I’ll be hanging from my toes for the next of the week. I’d rather not have a concussion of my own from getting dropped on my head when he decides I learned my lesson.”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t...” she says softly, “You don’t have to be nice to me. I know I don’t deserve it...”

“Huh?”

“N-nothing.”

“Now hold on there,” The demon says as he moves the bag back to where it was before, “You’re not gonna speed past that and act like ya didn’t just say what ya just said.”

“It’s nothing really,” Arella eyes dart around looking everywhere but Mammon’s. “Let’s just change the subject.”

“Alright, you can answer my earlier question then. How did you fall?”

“I slipped while climbing down from one of the shelving units at the store.... and smacked my head on the shopping cart.”

“No offense, but you’re kinda dumb. You were tryin’ ta get those noodles down, weren’t ya? You could have just grabbed whatever was at eye level or in your reach. You would have been an easy meal for a demon if you had passed out.”

“I know,” She sighed. “But that flavor is your favorite and I got everybody else’s favorites. It wouldn’t have been fair to not get yours.”

“It ain’t worth a concussion, short stack.” Once he’s sure she won’t move away, he lowers his hand from the side that isn’t icing the bruise and places it over hers. “Thanks though. And... I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t think you’d actually go out and try to get yourself eaten because I said I wouldn’t care.”

“I mean, that wasn’t my goal,” She sighed. “But I guess that’s the mess I got myself into huh?”

“Ya wouldn’t have if I would have done my job and gone with ya...” He scoots her over and then hops up on the island counter next to her. “I don’t get you, ya know...”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re too nice to me. I’ve been a jackass ta ya but you never seem to let it bother ya. You’re always coverin’ for me when I steal things from the house ta sell and you never said anything after I stole that necklace and other things from you. You save my plate at dinner when I don’t make it right away and you’ve lied right ta Lucifer’s face on multiple accounts for me... why? Why do you do these things?”

“I just wanted you to be nice to me. I know I just kind of got forced on you... I thought maybe if I extended the olive branch first, we could be at least somewhat civil with each other... but no matter what I did, it didn’t change the way you treated me so I just kept pushing harder and harder to see if maybe...”

“I get what you’re sayin’...” he hummed. “Let’s start over then... I’ll look out for ya for the rest of the year if you’ll forgive me... It would be ta both of our benefit.”

She nodded as he hopped down from the counter. “Alright, let’s go then.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Back ta the store, some of the stuff ya bought got damaged when those demons attacked ya.”

“Oh... Alright... This isn’t some kind of trick, is it? You’re not going to ditch me, are you?”

“Nah, I won’t. And if anybody wants to eat ya, they’ll have to go through me, first. Got it?” he says as holds his hand out to her. She hesitantly took it and he tugged her along after him as they headed out. She hopes that maybe they could even become friends at some point. That maybe- just maybe- this is a turning point for them.

Find more writings on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#mammon angst #obey me angst #obey me mammon #obey me oc #om! mammon #arella #mammon x oc

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shijiujun · 3 years

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i feel kinda bad for shl cos all the fans of hyx and spl are blaming shl since their dramas are being delayed :(

LMAO I really don’t get that altho i can see that the timing might be a little back to back, and i’m not a SHL-only stan by any measure but:

For HYX especially,

Firstly it was already having problems since the end of last year with censorship and review. This is mostly due to the reason that 2ha is a pretty big fandom and is the cult fave in the danmei industry - what this means is that there are three types of fans basically right, (1) Normal fans who love the novel + show (2) Those who fanatically love the novel in some extreme ways haha (3) Those who hate it and/or are HYX-onlys - so you get it all in a bag.

The first type of fans is definitely the easier ones to deal with, but unfortunately in big fandoms you get a lot of (2) and (3). It’s not something that’s exclusive only to 2ha/HYX but because it’s a cult fave, and a controversial one at that, problems definitely arise.

(2) are the ones who head down to the filming scenes, take photos and footage despite crew telling ppl not to do it, not to sneak around filming sites and definitely not to leak photos or footage. They do it anyway. Yeah sure of course it’s a couple of photos every few weeks or a tiny video every few weeks but word gets out. They’re inevitably hurting the show and the fandom with their actions, because shit trends on Weibo really fast, and the censorship committee (not just for the film industry or shows) is always lurking on the site to catch any sign of you know, hate speech for the country etc. and more. Not related, but the point is that social media is watched very closely. It’s not a myth or an exaggeration, you really just got to be careful, and HYX is a show that, despite not having been broadcasted, has consistently trended on Weibo over the last few months. Not always because of leaks, but yeah, HYX is in everyone’s faces. Fans themselves put a fucking huge spotlight on the show BEFORE we even have any content at all, and of course this isn’t enough to like create huge trouble for the show but then we have-

(3), which I believe creates the most trouble - the thing is 2ha and meatbun who wrote the book, has a long line of haters and antis, way before HYX came into the picture. I shall not go into details of how I’ve seen some big accounts on Tumblr here spit vitriol at the book without even reading it just based on the content/trigger warnings and playing the morality card (and I think most ppl who’ve followed me for a while know just what I think about that). Like this was way before any footage or leaks or even HYX being a thing came about - as a cult fave it has its share of haters, and this share is a huge. There are those who get off on their moral high grounds XD and I think especially these ones are the most troublesome, all they have to do is report that HYX is immoral, bad for culture etc. etc. hahaha and yeah the censorship team is always ready to step in on reports, especially on BL stuff.

And of course the larger part is the change in censorship processes - honestly even way before SHL came out in end Feb, HYX was no closer to getting passed by the review committee than it is now. Maybe yes, SHL scenes may be now used as reference for comparison but seriously? People are deluding themselves if they thought pre-SHL HYX was going through the review process smoothly and only hit roadblocks after. I mean, we’ve all seen the leaks, some of them are truly like god-tier scenes that may be hard to explain away. It’s not like they can repackage the script especially because they have to submit everything to the review committee.

I mentioned this in a post yesterday but how SHL passed reviews is due to the fact that they didn’t have to submit a full script. They only had to submit a partial script, and that makes a world of difference. Basically a team, under these requirements, can repackage the script to include the more het looking parts even I feel, and of course some heavy misdirection by the team, it could work. Now that you have to put an entire script up for scrutiny.. I mean, it’s hard. This is just a game of probability.

And the last reason I think is still Tencent. Honestly, I’ve never seen a huge ass MNC like this handle a show this terribly.

1. No control over leaks - This is honestly the dumbest shit to do

2. Terrible crisis management response time - When fans leak footage, it’s standard and practical business sense to control it IMMEDIATELY. They shouldn’t just leave it up to the crew to put up notices and as the company that owns the rights to the show, it’s up to them to possibly threaten legal action as well. Basically a sterner stance would have helped a lot, but Tencent is a motherfucker of a company who only cares about free marketing and publicity without any considerations over impact to the show itself

3. Terrible at communicating with fans - Seriously, I’ve never seen a company or team that’s been this bad at confirming delays etc. and providing updates about a show. I understand that it’s mostly due to them not wanting to affect the review process or create more chaos within the fandom but lmao Tencent allowed the hype to build so much and then goes absolutely silent at crazy rumours. I mean we had to find out about a delay from Cai Bao, their cat mascot, like??? In a really veiled and poetic message that didn’t outright say the word ‘delay’ like damn these ppl have a lot of time

As for SPL,

Lol we don’t know anything about this show. We don’t know if they took out or left in the Yifu part that would supposedly make it less gay or whatever, we don’t know anything about how gay it should have been or could have, so this one might be a tad more ridiculous. I mean none of us have seen any good leaks, and we haven’t seen any of the script, we got ZERO idea about this. Maybe they really went hard on the bromance, how would any of us know hahaha so all the more it’s like people have zero basis to go on, to say that it’s because of SHL. Seriously, everyone’s shooting in the dark.

Technically if laws didn’t change last Feb, I think SPL/WIK should have been passed in the same way as SHL did, but it’s just inopportune time for them.

===

- So tl:dr HYX already had tons of problems, that I doubt were going to go away just because SHL didn’t air, honestly. For SPL, it’s really hard to tell what failed the review, because none of us know what’s going on in the script.

No one cared about SHL, even I only realized the show was airing on the day itself and then made a rec post after I watched the first 4 eps. And if it truly was anything to do with SHL, I’m telling you that the first thing the censorship committee will do is basically shut SHL down, get Youku to take it off sites etc. until it’s reviewed again etc. etc. That hasn’t happened yet, at least not before HYX and SPL were stalled.

===

ALSO!! Don’t have to feel sorry for SHl fans hahaha I’m telling ya a lot of us definitely weren’t OG SHL or TYK fans, seriously! All the bigger accounts I see on Twitter are a combination of CQL/SHL or MXTX/SHL, SPL/SHL and I am personally 2HA/HYX/SHL. The fight is all out on Twitter HAHAHAHA but it’s not that bad, we’ve all got practice. Seriously WHO ACTUALLY is an SHL only stan I’ve honestly not seen much?! HAHAHA the point is we’re all yelling on behalf of SHL as a cross fandom fan, easier for us to do so as well. We’re talking about 2ha/HYX/SPL/Priest dedicated accounts that delved deep into SHL championing for no-nonsense in the space hahaha

#asks #shl #hyx #spl #and while i've never worked for the chinese film industry #i was in film and production #so i half know what i'm talking about #and i did ask a friend who works in a chinese film company #and yep ;/#if you need to know how disastrous big companies are #tencent is a prime example

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bluerose5 · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 1: Exiled

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,791

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Reyder, Exiles AU, Pre-Relationship, Drinking, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use

[Read it here on ao3.]

If there was one thing Scott used to his advantage, it was the fact that people always seemed to underestimate him. They thought him to be that sweet, lovable guy that almost everyone got along with. To them, he was simply a normal, everyday soldier who bought the Initiative's pitch like everyone else and took the leap across galaxies on a hunch.

Granted, most of that was somewhat true, but not entirely.

Like the other exiles, Scott didn't exactly wait around for someone else to come swooping in to save the day when the Initiative went to shit. Given that he was part of the original Pathfinder mission team —sent ahead on the Nexus to help prepare for the ark's arrival— he was supposed to have more say, should worse come to worst.

Yeah, because that turned out so well.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. When it was clear that the arks were delayed, it fell to Scott and the others sent ahead by their Pathfinders to call the shots on that end. That was what they had agreed upon per protocol before departing from the Milky Way.

Of course, Nexus leadership had something to say about that. They backtracked hard, citing inexperience and the lack of SAM as reasons to keep the Pathfinders' Nexus representatives from gaining power.

All Tann seemed to worry about was maintaining control over the populace, even when his choices didn't seem to be in everyone's best interests.

One after another, every attempt to establish an outpost failed. Naturally, hope began to dwindle over time, as would be expected after so many failures. It was brutal to watch, especially since Nexus leadership absolutely refused to send any of the Pathfinders' designated representatives. Scott didn't fully understand that decision. Maybe Tann thought that if he gave them an inch, then they would take a mile. Perhaps he was intimidated by the very thought that they might vie for the Pathfinder position yet again.

In the end, it didn't matter.

Scott didn't leave because they refused him the fancy title and its accompanying throne.

No, Scott left because of the utter incompetence. Kesh could handle her own as superintendent, but Tann and Addison were both a piece of work in their own right, making idiotic decisions yet never owning up to their mistakes. Making decisions that affected everyone yet never listening to the opinions of the public.

It was maddening, and Scott's eventual departure was inevitable.

Joining up with the uprising was one thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Scott fought to get innocent people off that station and to safety. Not everyone who left was a criminal, and they deserved better than what they got.

By the time they made it to Kadara, Scott was already tiring of Heleus. He helped take down the kett, didn't really get any credit for doing so, and jumped ship as soon as he could.

After Sloane took control of the port, Scott escaped into the badlands every now and then, only returning on occasion. She might have had good intentions in the beginning, but Scott didn’t like the direction her leadership was taking in regards to their future.

Besides, with trouble brewing between the Collective and the Outcasts, it seemed like he took the right step in venturing out on his own.

At first, he kept to himself, but it was impossible to ignore the people in need of help.

Seeds of corruption were already planted in the Outcasts' organization. Not that the Charlatan and their Collective were much better. Everything about the two factions' activities spelled trouble for all of the "little people" getting caught in the crossfire.

Scott had to do something. Ignoring the problem would only make it worse, leaving it to fester and spread like an unwelcome infection.

The gangs could beat each other up as much as they liked, but Scott was determined to make the planet safe for those who merely sought shelter from the madness. It took weeks of scouting out areas with a decent enough bedrock, weeks of surveying the angaran filtration systems, to even have a blueprint for a working water filter.

Of course, being an engineer had its perks.

Eventually, Scott managed to rig his tactical cloak for prolonged use and infiltrated one of the angaran hubs out in the badlands. He made it out with no collateral damage, taking off in the dead of night with scans of their systems. It gave him enough of an understanding to integrate their design into his own plans.

Did he feel bad for stealing as he did? Yes. Could he afford to linger on the guilt, knowing that those angara were denying the Milky Way species access to their plans? No.

Not when survival was on the line.

It was either keep giving them insane amounts of credits and supplies in exchange for a measly cup of water or take it for himself.

Scott was only glad he got in and out undetected. He would fight if he had to, but he wasn't bloodthirsty to the point that he actively sought out confrontation.

Building and perfecting his own filters took time and resources, even more so than usual since he was careful to keep any transactions out of the port under the radar. It was worth it, though. Before long, Scott had a working filtration system under his control.

And on Kadara, where there was fresh water, people soon followed.

Any exiles without gang affiliation were welcome. Most were wary to move to the area at first, understandably so, but Scott didn't force the matter. After all, it was difficult to verify whether or not this new town was a trap or the real thing. How could the exiles guarantee that it wouldn't turn out like all the other towns trying to get a start in the badlands? There one day, and burned to the ground by the next.

Hell, Scott didn't even attach his name to the place . Taking a page out of the Charlatan's book, Scott preferred a more discreet approach to leadership.

However, even Scott knew that, if he was ever going to get the place functioning properly, he would need to win some people over to his side.

Dr. Nakamoto had been the best person to off start with, and Scott didn't regret choosing him for a second. In exchange for retrieving his formula for Oblivion, Dr. Nakamoto promised his services as Scott's resident physician.

Luckily, his patients were more than happy to follow. Some even stayed, and word soon spread.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The locals started calling the place Paradise. A cheesy enough name, but it came down to a vote so Scott allowed it.

Compared to the surrounding cesspool that was the badlands, Scott figured he could understand why they would call it that. It felt like an oasis in an otherwise desolate wasteland, a place where one could go and catch their breath.

As for Paradise's "elusive leader," there was just as much speculation around their identity as there was around the Charlatan's. Although, unlike the Charlatan, all of the residents under Scott's care have met him, and all remained tight-lipped about who he was.

He was grateful for their loyalty. He never asked for it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

It prevented the gangs from painting a target on any one person's back. There were the occasional attacks on the community, but their people were stronger and smarter than the outlaws gave them credit for.

As stories of Scott's ventures spread, infiltrating and sabotaging both the Collective's and the Outcasts' operations to provide for his own people, Kadara Port started to buzz about this mysterious third party that joined in on Kadara's power play.

Truth was, Scott wasn't looking for power or influence.

He was simply looking to protect and provide, no matter the cost.

The Ghost, they called him, known for sneaking in and out without a trace.

And any time he was detected, there were never any witnesses left to tell the tale.

Those at Paradise always got a kick out of the nickname, refusing to let him live it down.

That was fine, though. Scott would rather be the people's boogeyman than to let their opposition think that Paradise will just roll over on their backs and let everyone else fuck them over without retaliation.

On Kadara, it was a dog-eat-dog kind of world. Any sign of weakness will be quickly taken advantage of.

But Scott played his part well.

Nowadays, he lived in the port more often than not, putting up with Sloane's ridiculous protection fees in order to keep the suspicion off himself and those around him.

At the slightest hint of trouble, Paradise had an emergency beacon equipped that would ping Scott's omni-tool at a moment's notice. He had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but he would be there at the drop of a hat, should he be signaled.

For now, it was time he sat back, kicked up his feet, and listened.

Crazy all the things you could find out just from listening to a conversation here or there.

As soon as Scott sat down at the bar in Kralla’s, he asked Umi for his usual.

“Starting a tab?” she asked as she wiped down the bar.

Scott was almost afraid to ask if that was blood or wine staining the rag that she was using. Then again, ignorance was bliss.

Such was the way of life on Kadara.

Scanning the area, Scott eventually nodded.

“Might as well.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m meeting with Reyes soon. Cheap bastard never pays for his drinks.”

“Yet you keep letting him get away with it,” Umi noted.

Scott chuckled.

“Best not to burn bridges over a few drinks,” he said, “especially when this bridge in particular filters a large majority of the goods coming in and out Kadara.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Ryder.”

While Umi continued to mix his drink, Scott tuned into the conversations around him. One caught his attention right off the bat, focused on the latest topic of discussion that was making its rounds throughout the Port.

“I’m tellin’ ya!” the human griped, words slightly slurred. “That damn place is a cult. All exclusive-like. I swear, that lot would rather sacrifice their firstborns than give up the name of their precious leader.”

“Hmph, doesn’t matter,” their salarian companion muttered. “If the outlaws in the badlands don’t take care of that group soon, chances are that Sloane or the Charlatan will, leader or no leader.”

Heh, Scott would like to see them try.

Speaking of the devil himself, Scott tensed the second he felt hands upon his shoulders, only to relax once he heard that familiar voice whisper in his ear.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Reyes breathed, his lips brushing lightly along the shell of his ear.

Without missing a beat, Scott brushed him off with a playful glare.

“You’re late,” he scolded. He tried his best to sound indifferent, unimpressed. His relationship with Reyes has always been complicated at best. “As always.”

Releasing Scott from his hold, Reyes claimed the spot at his side, pretending to look properly chastised.

“I swear, it won’t happen again,” he said. He even made a show of crossing his heart. “I promise.”

“And yet, I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s because I was lying.”

Scott snorted, “At least you’re honest about something.”

That’s not even taking into account the whole Charlatan business, something that Reyes seemed to hold extra close to his chest with Scott around. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because Reyes had his own suspicions about him, or if he withheld that information for some other reason unbeknownst to Scott.

Either way, it took Scott a while to put the pieces together himself. Not too long, considering that the majority of the port was still puzzled over the Charlatan’s identity, but it was long enough for Scott to be as certain as humanly possible without having Reyes spell it out for him.

It was simple, really, once Scott knew what to look for. How Reyes slipped up one time about where the Collective’s base was, only to brush it off as mere rumor. How, on any job they took together, Reyes was the first to volunteer to follow up on any Collective leads. Or, better yet, how he seemed so certain whether or not an incident coincided with the Charlatan’s MO if the Charlatan was the one being implicated.

Safe to say, spend enough time with the man, and it became rather obvious over time.

As Keema was all too eager to point out, Reyes liked to think he was so subtle when, in reality, he’s not. Well, not as much as he assumed, at least.

On the other hand, maybe the Charlatan’s secret identity only became apparent to Scott because Reyes wanted him to figure it out.

If that was the case, then Scott would have to open that can of worms another day.

Right now, he needed to focus on why they were here.

Clearing his throat, Scott waited until Umi passed them their drinks and left, moving on to serve her other customers.

Scott grabbed ahold of Reyes’s sleeve and tugged. He waited until Reyes met his eyes, then jerked his chin in the direction of a nice, secluded table.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Reyes hummed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Trying to get me alone, Scott?” Resting against the bar, Reyes leaned in close, but Scott refused to move a single muscle, holding his ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” Scott said. He gave Reyes a blatant once-over, sparing his lips an appreciative glance. “It’s not every day that I get the great Reyes Vidal all to myself.”

“Keep buttering me up, Scott,” Reyes teased, “and I might just give you that discount after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Scott huffed.

Picking up their drinks, they soon settled in at the table that Scott had pointed out. From where they sat, they had a whole view of the bar.

Scott took a swig of his beer, and Reyes instantly followed suit, unable to take their eyes off of each other for even a second.

They sat their glasses back down with a solid thunk.

“Okay,” Scott started, “let’s get down to business.”

“Just like that?” Reyes laughed.

“Just like that.” Shuffling in place, Scott reached into his pocket and removed a small pouch filled with seeds. At Reyes’s curious expression, Scott explained, “My payment. A rather generous one, if I do say so myself.”

After Scott tossed the pouch onto the table, Reyes picked it up. He let its weight rest in the palm of his hand for a moment before loosening the ties to sneak a peek.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Seeds?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yep,” Scott said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Seeds for a ‘medicinal herb.’ My scans confirmed it. It develops antibiotic-like properties as it matures, along with some other, more recreational effects.”

And by scans, Scott meant Nakamoto. Their resident doctor was quick to jump at the chance to study the plant’s effects, especially if it could help fight off future infections in Andromeda.

Scott had started off by “borrowing” a few plants from some of their local cultivators, returning the samples to the greenhouse that they had established in Paradise.

Their latest harvest yielded a surplus, so Scott figured that any leftover seeds would be a profitable bargaining chip for trade.

Turns out, he was right.

Reyes tightened his grip upon the pouch and pocketed it, now that he knew what he was getting out of their exchange.

“A valuable product,” Reyes acknowledged, “if what you say is true.”

Smirking, Scott leaned back in his chair, hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Now, Reyes, would I ever lie to my favorite smuggler?”

“True enough. You do have a soft spot for me.”

“You’re that certain, huh?”

“As a betting man, I would say that I’m confident in my chances of being right.”

He even had the gall to throw in a wink for good measure.

Scott’s face warmed, but he ignored the sensation, trying to calm his racing heart.

Of, if only he knew…

Clearing his throat, Scott returned their focus to the topic at hand.

“Also, with that herb, you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty addictive effects like with Oblivion,” Scott continued. “I guess the high you get from it could be considered slightly addictive in more of a mental sense, but it’s relatively harmless on a physiological level.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

“I, uh—” Scott stammered, caught red-handed. “Well, what kind of salesman would I be if I didn’t sample the product for myself?”

“A poor one, indeed,” Reyes agreed. “I’m only offended that you didn’t think to invite me to the party.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I feel the urge to smoke the space weed,” Scott deadpanned.

“Please, do.”

“Okay, okay.” Scott did his best to hide his laughter. His lip quivered at the corner. “Back to business, mister. You’re not taking my goods and leaving me with nothing again.” Reyes had charmed his way out of one too many deals with him in the past, but not anymore. “Where’s the goods?”

“Scott,” Reyes gasped. “I am offended you would think that I would stoop so low as to steal from my favorite exile.”

When it was clear that Scott wasn’t buying it, Reyes surrendered.

“Alright, here. One long-ranged scanner, ready for use.” Taking out a small package, Reyes pushed it pointedly across the table. Scott took it instantly, unable to express his gratitude in that moment. “Sorry that I didn’t have a chance to giftwrap it. My best only deserves the best, after all.”

Scott felt his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t think anything of it.” Scott shook his head, clutching tightly at the package. “This should be enough.”

“Glad to hear it.” Reyes paused, hesitating before coming out with it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s it for?”

“What else would I use a scanner for?” Scott countered. “I wasn’t on the Pathfinder’s mission team for nothing. We have a whole bunch of unexplored ruins scattered all over the surface of this planet, and I plan on getting some readings.”

To be more specific, he wanted a reading on their turrets if he could examine one at a safe distance. Even the beam technology from the Observer bots would be useful in formulating a defensive matrix for the t—

“You what?”

Uh-oh, someone was upset.

Scott grimaced. He carefully avoided Reyes’s gaze, filled with heat and disapproval.

“Reyes, come on,” Scott sighed. It was weird to see him so fiercely protective, to see him act like he cared about anything other than the next job he had lined up. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be careful.”

“Kadara’s most experienced scientists were careful,” Reyes snapped, “yet that didn’t stop the Remnant from butchering them like animals. Scott, there’s a reason why even the angara avoid those areas like the plague. The security measures alone…”

Could be what kept Scott’s people safe.

Sitting up straight, Scott held his head up high with renewed purpose, meeting Reyes’s eyes with a stubborn glare.

“I’m going,” he stated, “whether you like it or not. The information stored there might be vital to our continued survival. We can’t pass up an opportunity to learn the Remnant’s secrets.”

Reyes pursed his lips, but eventually acquiesced.

“Fine, but I’m accompanying you when you go.”

“That’s not your decision!”

“You’re not changing my mind.”

They stared each other down, caught at an impasse.

After a moment of tense silence between them, Reyes grumbled. Since that argument was obviously far from being over, he was more than willing to change the subject.

“I have another exchange for you.”

Now, that got Scott’s attention. Setting the scanner aside, he would make sure to install the upgrade into his omni-tool later, curious about this second trade-off.

They didn’t have anything else planned for today, and Reyes wasn’t usually the type to drop something like this on a client at the last second.

Whatever he found, it had to be huge.

“What is it?” Scott asked, wondering what the Charlatan himself had up his sleeve.

“A little bit of intel,” he offered, keeping his reply as vague as ever.

Still, if Reyes was offering the information, then it must be important. As shady as he could be at times, information was his forte. When Reyes used it as a bargaining chip, he meant business, and chances were that it was reliable.

Scott simply wondered if he actually wanted the news that Reyes had to offer.

“What’s the catch?” Scott asked, because nothing on Kadara came for free.

Reyes shrugged.

“My shuttle needs some repairs, and I only trust one person to fix her up. Mind coming by tomorrow?”

Scott pretended to consider his offer for a moment, but in the end, he could never say no to working on that old bird.

“Name the time and place.”

“I’ll send you the details later, but don’t make me wait up.”

“And deny you of my presence for even longer? That would just be cruel.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” Reyes’s smile soon twisted into a frown. That solemn expression certainly didn’t do any favors to ease Scott’s nerves. “As for that intel, you’ve heard of Vehn Terev, right?”

“The poor, unfortunate soul whose head is next up on Sloane Kelly’s chopping block?” After all, she couldn’t afford to upset the angara, not after word spread of Vehn's betrayal. That would threaten the balance of power too much, at least in her eyes. “I might have heard a thing or two.”

“Well, you’re about to hear much more in the coming days,” Reyes explained, watching him closely for any sign of change. “I recently received a message from Evfra. Apparently, Vehn has some useful intel of his own, intel that could potentially cripple the kett’s operations in all of Heleus for good. Evfra has arranged for me to meet with one of his contacts about securing Vehn’s release from prison.”

“A difficult feat if Sloane won’t comply,” Scott noted, “but I still don’t see why this information would be of any use to me.”

“Scott—” Reyes hesitated.

For once, he seemed genuinely nervous, which in turn caused Scott to panic a little on the inside.

What he said turned Scott’s entire world upside down.

“The contact is Pathfinder Ryder.”

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #scott ryder #reyes vidal #reyder #mreyder #exile AU #my writing #my fanfic

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epicfangirl01 · 3 years

Text

Random HCs of The Bois™️ Finding Out About AFAB!MC's Period

Honestly, I'm only writing this because of Mammon's reaction that popped into my head, and I wanted to see how the others would react. Also, these are on the basis that you and the brother are dating a couple months after your arrival.

TW: 18+ because some of the brothers are needy af

Lucifer

You knock on Lucifer's door shortly after school, feeling anxious. Your period came in the middle of your final class, when you realized you were out of pads and tampons. As you were in the Devildom, there isn't a stock of supplies for your already miserable week. And the only way to go to the human world was through Lucifer or Diavolo. As much as you love the gentle giant, you would rather talk about the situation with your boyfriend.

Lucifer tells you to come in, and the eldest brother's eyes soften as he glances up at you. His gaze doesn't linger, however, turning back to his stack of paperwork.

"Do you miss me already, MC? The academy bells have just finished ringing." You shift nervously, your period making you feel uncomfortable, before speaking up.

"I do, but that's actually not why I'm here... I need to go to the human world to pick some things u-" Lucifer sighs, scratching the paper with his pen.

"Darling, I'm sorry, but I am very busy. Besides, you just got home from school. You can wait to go on a shopping spree with Mammon and Asmodeus." You step closer, frowning, and you try to explain.

"No, Lucifer, that's not-" Lucifer's eyes narrow in irritation, still glancing at his paperwork, but his words become a firm warning.

"MC, you must finish your homework. You can go shopping this weekend." Your lower stomach twists in pain, cramps rapidly increasing, and you snap.

"Lucifer, my vagina is FUCKING BLEEDING, DAMMIT!!! I need to go to the store!" The demon's eyes widen as he drops his pen, and he looks up at you, surprised.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say...?" Frustration overwhelms you, until you catch the confusion and concern in his eyes.

"In all your years of existence, you haven't heard of a period before???" Lucifer doesn't say anything, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I really am overworking myself, aren't I? I suppose it's been a while since I've been to the surface...." You shake your head, chuckling, and you relax when Lucifer is finally ready to listen. You take a couple minutes to explain what is happening, and what you need to take care of yourself. When you're finished, Lucifer nods, glad that you will be okay.

"I apologize for my behavior. I will be more supportive in the future. Here, have some money for your errands. Will $100 dollars be sufficient?" (Yes, Luci, yes it is.)

Mammon

You sit down on Mammon's leather couch, shifting to a semi-comfortable position, and enjoying a movie night with your lovable boyfriend. Mammon grabs some blankets for you, before plopping onto the couch. He smiles at you, and holds you close, making sure that you are settled. You watch the movie for a while, enjoying the movie, when you catch a mischievous glint in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Mammon, wha-"

He smiles and pulls you into his lap, gently kissing you neck. You sigh a bit, uncomfortable with sitting in general, but loving his kisses and nips. You didn't expect Mammon's hand to cup your crotch, but you especially didn't expect him to scream in your ear.

"WHERE THE FUCK DID IT GO?!?"

The pissed off side of your brain fumes for a moment, until your eyes meet Mammon's. You burst out laughing at the panic on Mammon's face, realizing that he felt your pad. The demon of greed doesn't appreciate your laughing, feeling genuinely worried for his beloved human. When you calm down, you turn back to him.

"Mammon, I'm fine. It's still there. I'm just.... kinda on my period..."

He looks at you like you grew three heads, and it quickly becomes apparent he has no idea what you're talking about. You take a few minutes to explain, and he listens patiently, but he still continues to panic.

"You're saying you can bleed FOR A WEEK and be fine?!? And you constantly have cramps and migraines? And this happens once a month??? Why the hell didn't you say anything? How can I help my human when you don't say you need me?!"

He carefully sets you down, before bolting of of the couch and out the door. You gape at the doorway for a moment, wondering what Mammon is up to. He returns for a moment, his arms holding a pile of pillows, medicine, pajamas, and snacks.

"Does this help? I got the pillows and pjs from your room, medicine from the bathroom, and I kinda took snacks from Beel's stash under his bed.... But it's fine! I made a note that you'll buy more later."

You shake your head, smiling, and you thank him as he walks over to help you. Once Mammon knows you are comfortable, he sits down beside you. You gently kiss Mammon on the lips, before you lay on your side, resting your head on his lap. The demon blushes, and he pulls the blanket over you. His hands gently stroke your hair, and you watch the movie together until you both fall asleep.

Leviathan

The third born invites you into his room for anime night (every night, lol), and you walk into the room with snacks in you arms. Levi welcomes you in as you set the bags onto his coffee table, before grabbing a couple drinks from his mini fridge.

"Good, you're early! The pilot is about to start!"

You chuckle, happy to spend time with him, and you bend down to place everything on the table. As you do so, your shirt lifts just enough to show a small stain on the back of your pants. Levi's eyes accidentally catch sight of it, resulting in a blush.

"Uh, MC? You have a s-stain on your pants..." You turn and look down at your legs, turning to try to find what he's talking about, but you can't see it.

"I can't find it. I'll just wash it off when I get back to my room." The demon tenses and shakes his head, trying to think of the least awkward words to say.

"No, no! I-I mean, you have a blood stain. Y-your period kinda started...."

Your eyes widen at his words, and you look in the reflection of his glass aquarium, cursing at the stain. You hadn't noticed this time, the monthly curse being subtle throughout your busy afternoon. You start to apologize to Levi, when he shakes his head.

"It's not your fault. I-it's fine. I just... I know it might be weird that I know about it. I found out from a high school anime. In the episode, the protagonist goes on their way to school, getting bullied by the leader of the popular girls, and the bully turns away but the protagonist stops her because of a stain, and despite being enemies, the protagonist is kind and knows how she feels, so they take her to the bathroom and helps her clean up... And I- I know it probably sounds weird or creepy for someone to watch anime like that, but I thought it was kind and empowering, an-" You stop Levi mid rant, smiling at his anxiousness, and you give him a small hug.

"Thanks, Levi. I appreciate it. It's part of the unspoken period code, ya know? It can be awkward and embarrassing enough, so even just a discreet heads up can be very helpful. Don't worry about it, okay?"

He nods, glad you understand, and he gently hugs you back.

"O-okay. I'll be back, alright? I remember seeing in the episode that it helps to have a hot shower sometimes to ease the cramps and feel less uncomfortable, and that blankets and pjs can help. I guess if you don't mind a loser like me, you could use any blankets or hoodies I have if it makes you feel better..."

You smile and nod, grateful for the demon of envy. He shyly smiles back, and he spends the rest of the night making sure that you're comfortable during the show.

Satan

The library is quiet and warm as you sit at a table with Satan, working on your assignments. You struggle and struggle through a complex spell for your potions class, irritation and fatigue clouding your brain. You are already sore and pissed off from the beginning of your period, but now stress and anger bubbles beneath the surface.

"MC, you have to say it calml-"

You huff, throwing up your hands, and you scowl at the unaffected spell dummy in front of you.

"I know, Satan! I've been calm for the past half hour, and it's still not right! Can you just actually give me some fucking advice for once so I can get this shit over with?!?"

The middle brother looks at you for a moment, stunned, before chuckling.

"I didn't know you could hold so much anger, MC. I'm almost impressed, although, it is very out of character for you... Are you alright?"

A sigh escapes your lips as you awkwardly cross your arms, looking away. You explain that you are just tired, but Satan can hear the hesitation in your voice. The demon of wrath doesn't speak for a moment, thinking about your recent behavior, and everything snaps into place. Satan has read enough books to last an eternity, including ones about human biology. He knows exactly what is happening, and he generally understands how you are feeling. And through his readings, Satan knows not to ask you directly, should your anger grow.

"Ah, I understand. Well, why didn't you say that you needed a break, kitten? I could have helped you unwind a little."

With that, Satan pulls you away from the table to rest on the couch, grabbing a book from his bag. Once you are both settled, Satan pulls a blanket over you both and opens his book while you rest your head on his lap.

With his human in his arms, Satan calmly reads to you, his voice silky as you eventually drift off to sleep.

Asmodeus

The demon of lust practically barges into your room, Majolish bags in tow as he squeals with excitement.

"MC! Look, Majolish's exclusive swimwear line came out! I found this ADORABLE swimsuit for you to try! It was the last in your size." He pulls out the swimsuit from a bag, showing it to you.

You look up at Asmo, gasping at the swimsuit.

"That looks perfect! Thank you, Asmo. I'll try it on later. I'm not fe-"

Asmo pouts, tossing the swimsuit to you, and reaching for another outfit from his bag.

"Come on!!! I have so much stuff for us to try on! And then we could maybe go to the beach tomor-"

You shake your head, sighing.

"No, Asmo. I'm not up to swimming this week", you lie, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

Asmo notices, and immediately drops the subject.

"Are you alright, hun? Is it a rough cycle this time?"

Your eyes widen in surprise before you look up at him. His eyes are filled with concern, before you nod.

"Yeah, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'll be fine. Let's go swimming next week, okay?"

The avatar of lust smiles, before carefully pulling you out of the chair.

"Come on. Let's have a spa day instead. I'll make sure you feel stunning and comfortable."

Beelzebub

You look through the kitchen in your pjs, craving all of your favorite foods, when you hear the door quietly squeak open. Your head turns back, and you see the sheepish gaze of the 6th born.

"Do you need a midnight snack, Beel? I was about to make something myself. I can make some for you."

Beel nods, smiling, before coming into the room.

"I smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen, so I came to check. That's strange, though. You haven't made anything yet?" Beel takes in the large amount of food on the table, much more than you normally eat. Maybe the gluttonous demon was rubbing off on you, he wondered.

You shake your head, just as confused as he is.

"Maybe you were so hungry that you started imagining it. You've done that a few times before."

Beel sniffs the air, before walking up behind you.

"You smell different today... MC, you smell so good..... Can I have a taste?"

You choke on air, trying to understand what he just said.

"Beel! You can't just ask that! That's perverted!" He looks at you with confused, innocent eyes, like a kicked puppy.

"What do you mean? I just wanted to kiss your head. Oh.... You thought I meant or-"

A small screech of panic escapes your lips, and you stop Beel mid-sentence, telling him not to spend too much time with Asmo.

"Right. Sorry, MC... Can I ask a question? Why do you smell different today? You're not as sweet and salty as usual. And you're a lot hungrier today.... Are you okay?"

Realization punches the wind out of you as you understand what Beel has been smelling. He was attracted to your blood, without knowing what it was. An awkward laugh fills the air, and you look away from the red head's gaze.

You spend the next few minutes explaining what was going on, and Beel listens intently as you go on.

"Okay. I'm sorry for being rude... I didn't mean to. To make up for it, I can make you whatever you want. Sit down, and I'll get you some water. You'll lose a lot of hydration for the next few days. Then when food is done, we can go watch Devilish Desserts in my room. Belphie is in the attic tonight."

You smile, pulling Beel into a hug before spending a relaxing evening together.

Belphegor

The sound of your DDD alarm fills the cozy attic, waking you and Belphie up from your after school nap. The youngest brother groans before pulling you closer.

"Did you really have to wake me up? I was having such a nice dream..."

You push yourself off Belphie and the bed, feeling as if you were hit by a truck. Why did you have to feel awful now, when you made plans to see the angels?

Your body aches as you stand, attempting to wake up enough to get ready. Belphie mumbles with irritation, rolling onto his side.

"What's more important tha- Huh? Is that blood?"

Your eyes widen, and you look back to the bed, and your eyes find the red stain on the bedsheets. You look at Belphie in horror, and he sits up, now wide awake.

"MC, are you okay? That's where you were sleeping."

You want to die. You want to shrivel up into a ball and die because how are you going to explain to your boyfriend that it came out of your vagina, and that it's NORMAL?!? Blood coming from anywhere brings some sense of concern anyway, no matter what realm you are from.

"Haha- Yeah, um, about that, I kinda need to tell you something...."

Belphie stays surprisingly alert as you explain, only relaxing when you state that it's normal and frequent.

"Ah. Okay. Tell Simeon to fuck off. You're sick, and you're staying here. Go get a spare hoodie and sweatpants. I'll get you meds, a heating pad, and some spare pillows. Tell the others you're with me tonight."

You smile, glad he understands, and Belphie gets you a couple of things while you get comfortable. When you walk back into the attic, Belphie is fast asleep with his limbs curled around a log of blankets, waiting for you to return.

#mya's works #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

Quantifying copyright reversion

At its outset, American copyright provided for 14 years of exclusivity, renewable for another 14 years by the author, but — crucially — not by the publisher. This was a shrewd move by the US Framers, because it meant the publisher had to convince the author to file paperwork.

Most authors have very little bargaining leverage at the outset of their publishing deals, and even when the author’s prior accomplishments afford them some bargaining power, a new book is, by definition, an unknown quantity, and the fair price for it is debatable.

Then (as now), the majority of works are no longer commercially viable after 14 years. But for authors of the minority of works that thrive over long terms, renewal is an opportunity to reopen publisher negotiations from a position of strength.

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1436186

The author could say, “When I sold you this book, neither of us could say how it would fare, so you paid me a modest sum. 14 years later, it is earning for you, and if you wish to continue to enjoy exclusive rights to it, I demand that you share that bounty with me.”

If the publisher demurred, the author could simply walk away from the negotiations. The book’s copyright would not renew, other printers could produce their own editions at or near the marginal cost. The publisher would lose all, the author would be no worse off.

Some form of renewal endured in US copyright for many years, and even after it was abolished, US copyright retained a measure intended to address creators’ unbalanced negotiating power with their investors (studios, labels, publishers, etc): Reversion.

Essentially, US copyright lets creators to claim back their rights after 35 years (depending on the work’s age), even if their contracts are for longer terms. This right can’t be contracted away, either: a clause that says “I won’t ever revert my rights” is not enforceable.

Reversion could allow creators to renegotiate their deals, but it has other benefits. For scholarly authors — who must sign away all rights, for free, to publish in journals that charge fortunes for access — it’s a chance to get those works into the public domain.

For authors, it’s a partial answer to the conundrum of ebooks and print-on-demand, which have made contractual reversion obsolete (publishers historically gave your rights back when the book was out of print, but ebooks and PoDs are never out of print).

And for creators who were tricked into signing away their rights, it’s a chance to get them back.

But for all that, reversion is woefully rare, because the process is so complex, uncertain and obscure.

For years, the Authors Alliance has provided tools for creators seeking to revert their works, but even with this assistance, the process is daunting.

https://www.authorsalliance.org/resources/rights-reversion-portal/

Efforts to improve the system have been hampered by a huge data-void. The US Copyright Office’s databases are woefully and infamously clunky, incomplete, out-of-date and under-resourced.

This is a crisis for all creators — if we want to sell our works, then having clear records of our claims on them is essential, first, so buyers can find us, and second, so we can prove that we have the right to sell.

The rights reversion data void hampers international efforts to improve copyright for creators, as in South Africa, where US entertainment cartels exploited the gap to sow fear, uncertainty and doubt in a bid to prevent South African authors from winning reversion rights.

Which is why “U.S. Copyright Termination Notices 1977–2020: Introducing New Datasets,” published today, represents such a milestone. A group of Australian scholars present the first ever comprehensive data on US copyright reversions.

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3880708

The authors — Joshua Yuvaraj, Rebecca Giblin, Daniel Russo-Batterham, Genevieve Grant — scraped all Copyright Office data pertaining to reversion, painstakingly processed it, and published it. Here’s the data:

https://melbourne.figshare.com/articles/dataset/_/14880330

and here’s the codebooks:

https://melbourne.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/_/14881941

The paper is up on SSRN today, and has been accepted for publication in the prestigious Journal of Empirical Legal Studies. It’s an eye-popping read, and it reveals the truly dismal state — and vital necessity — of reversion.

Few creators have managed to revert but the ones that have are fascinating. Stephen King is a leading reverter, as are George RR Martin, Nora Roberts and David Eddings. — successful authors who are able to claim back their works and seek new deals based on their track records.

A single YA author — Francine Pascal_ — accounts for nearly all the YA reversions, thanks to her reclaiming of all 305 of her Sweet Valley High novels (in kids’ books, Ann Martin attains another high-water mark for reverting the Baby-Sitters Club books).

But the most fascinating entry is funk titan George Clinton, who pursued his former manager Nene Montes for years, claiming he’d forged Clinton’s signature and defrauded him to steal the rights to most of Clinton’s prodigious and profitable catalog.

https://celebrityaccess.com/caarchive/george-clinton-regains-possession-of-funkadelic-masters/

Thanks to reversion, Clinton was able to finally settle all question of title without expensive litigation — he simply reverted 1,413 works.

These are just the preliminary findings from this landmark, open-access dataset. Other researchers are encouraged to mine it further.

For policy-makers and creators’ advocates, this data finally puts a sound evidentially footing beneath the debate over reversion. US reversion does help creators, but it is badly hamstrung by needless complexity and poor record-keeping.

Improving reversion — simplifying it, or even making it automatic at 25 years — is a no-brainer if you want to improve creators’ share of the bounty of their most successful works.

Not coincidentally, Giblin (one of the authors) and I collaborated on THE SHAKEDOWN, a forthcoming book on how copyright, labor, contracting, and antitrust reforms could actually improve the creators’ share of the profits from their labor.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/19/the-shakedown/#monopsony

Image: Shakespeare Documented https://shakespearedocumented.folger.edu/file/liber-c-folio-161-recto

#pluralistic

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socontagiousimagines · 4 years

Text

Games - Draco x Reader

hi! hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!! sort of a little modern au thing coming at ya... also just for giggles, they’re all 18 but still at Hogwarts.. ok thanks bye, hope you enjoy!!!

also I’ve switched to color gifs, idk if anyone noticed before but I used to use strictly black and white ones 😅

a few songs actually inspired this one, so it’s very loosely based on josslyn by olivia o’brien (the main one), almost is never enough by ariana grande and keep it to yourself by kacey musgraves

Request - Nope.

Warnings - mentions of “cheating,” mentions of sex, cussing

In case you skipped the beginning, please note that this is a modern au.

“Draco, can you please move your elbow? I’m trying to take notes and you’re always in my way.” Y/N said, shoving Draco’s arm lightly. His blue eyes slid to her Y/E/C ones. He leaned over so his mouth was next to her ear and she felt his breath as he said the word “no,” and leaned back over to his side with a smirk. Y/N fought the urge to shiver. Her tongue ran across her teeth.

Sighing and choosing not to argue with him for fear of getting caught by Snape, she turned back towards the front of the classroom and scooted to the end of their table. She had a few moments of writing in peace before the platinum haired boy slid closer to her, putting his elbow next to hers. Taking a quick glance at him, she saw the smirk still plastered on his face and she couldn’t help the smile that graced her face.

Draco wasn’t ugly by any means. He had been taught from a very young age that appearance was everything. His skin was perfect. His hair was always perfect. And he was dressed well no matter what he was doing that day. And especially looking at him from this angle, Y/N couldn’t help it as her eyes grazed his face from his perfectly done hair to the slant of his pointy nose and his sharp jawline and --

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, Y/L/N. Come on, class is over.” he said. Before she could fully process what he had said, he was slamming her book closed and plucking the quill from her hand and throwing them both in her bag. She stood, taking her outstretched bag from him.

They walked silently beside each other, heading towards the Great Hall for lunch. As they met up with their usual group by the entrance, Draco took a step behind Y/N and placed his arms around her shoulders, resting his head on top of hers. Her hands came up to hold his and she leaned back against him. Pansy threw a pointed look Y/N’s way before glancing behind the pair.

“We’re still waiting on Theo and Blaise. They seem to be taking their sweet time today.” she remarked.

“Parkinson, relax. They’ll be here soon, you know how slow they are sometimes.” Draco replied.

“Yeah, or -- more likely -- they got in trouble and they had to stay --”

“And we had to what?” Blaise drawled, strolling up to the group with Theo in tow. Pansy scoffed and they followed her to the Slytherin.

---

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. After dinner, the Slytherin squad headed to their usual nighttime hangout spot - the boys’ dorm. Pansy crawled into the huge bean bag chair she insisted on storing in their room and Daphne had flung herself at the end of Theo’s bed. Y/N had taken her usual spot on Draco’s bed, lying on her stomach with her head at the end and her feet in the air. Draco was lying sideways on his bed, his head on Y/N’s back and his nose in his phone. There were soft pop tunes playing through the radio by the window.

“I still can’t believe we’re not allowed to have our phones until after dinner. Like what if there was an emergency and I needed to call one of you? It’s irresponsible, is what it is.” Pansy complained, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. Her thumb was scrolling up and down her phone screen.

“In what scenario would you be in an emergency where you would need to contact us?” Theo asked, raising his eyes over the book he had been sucked into.

“I don’t know, Theodore, but it would give me comfort to know that I could call or text you guys,” she paused and added, “But I’d also like to scroll through Instagram at lunch or when McGonagall bores me to death during class.”

“They still make us use quills and parchment and you expect them to let us use our phones? We’re lucky that they even allow us to have them at all.” Blaise added.

Daphne let out a loud laugh. Pansy rolled her eyes before going back to her scrolling. Draco threw his phone on his bedside table, announcing that he was going to the bathroom. Y/N watched as he walked out of the room. She flipped the pages of her magazine and it was a comfortable silence until Pansy threw herself onto the bed next to her.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asked, putting her hand over the page Y/N was just reading.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N answered, sitting up.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know you and Draco have always been close, but lately you’ve both been very touchy feely with each other. You know that’s a bad idea, right?”

“Pans, we’re just talking… it’s not like we’re dating. We’re like… pre-dating.”

“That’s the exact problem. You’re not dating. He thinks he can mess with other girls specifically because you’re not exclusive. You’ve seen him do this with other girls. Why are you entertaining this idea? He’s a player. He’s played me, for crying out loud. Do you remember that?”

“As much as I appreciate you caring, I don’t really think it’s any of your business.”

“Y/N, she’s right. You know he’s not the best when it comes to relationships. He’s never even been in a relationship. Be careful.” Theo added, before quickly shifting his eyes back into his book.

“Fine. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Talk about what anymore?” Draco asked, as he walked back into the room.

“Nothing.” Pansy replied, quickly getting off the bed and sitting on the end of Blaise’s.

The platinum haired boy raised an eyebrow, studying Y/N’s face. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. Instead of pressing the matter, Draco chose to ignore it and sunk back into his previous spot on his bed.

---

Y/N awoke in a tangle of dark green satin sheets and an arm draped around her torso. She was lying on her back and Draco’s face was nestled into her neck.Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms, seemingly waking the boy next to her because a deep groan came from him before he turned so his back was facing her.

“You woke me up.” was all he said as he twisted his body again, onto his stomach.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Prince Draco.” she giggled.

“You should be.”

He grinned at her as her eyes grew wide. In a flash of movement, he was on top of her and giving his best attempt to tickle her. Y/N shrieked and thrashed her legs, trying to kick him off of her. As he moved his hands to her neck, a pillow hit him in the back of his head.

“Oi! You two keep it down, please. It’s three in the morning. People are trying to sleep!” Blaise grumbled from the other side of the room.

“Shove it, Zabini.” Draco replied, throwing the pillow back across the room. He climbed off of the girl beneath him and collapsed in his previous spot. Moonlight shined through the window, illuminating the sharp edges of his jaw and making his hair seem to glow in the darkness of the room. Y/N watched the Adam’s apple in his throat bob as he swallowed.

“I wouldn’t play you, you know.” he whispered, turning to face her.

“Sorry?” she replied.

“I mean… I know what you guys were talking about when I came back into the room earlier. Pansy was telling you that I’m a player… but I would never do that to you. I know what you’ve been through with other guys. I’d never treat you like they did.”

“What about all those other girls though? Pansy?”

“We were never exclusive. I fucked them once or twice and they thought that automatically meant we were an item. With Pansy, we were friends with benefits for awhile and she caught feelings, but I’ve always had my eye on someone else -- someone I want to be serious with.”

“You -- you want to be serious with me?”

“Of course, “ he took her hand in his before continuing. “We’ve known each other for eighteen years, I’d be crazy to not take anything serious with you.”

Y/N was glad for the darkness of the room because she was sure her cheeks were apple red. She’d waited so long to hear those words come from Draco’s mouth. On one hand, she was elated, but on the other, she wasn’t sure that she could entirely trust him on words alone. Actions proved real intent. She lay her head on his chest while his arm came around her. After a few hours and many snores from Draco later, her eyes finally succumbed to darkness.

---

Rain fell from the dark sky that Saturday morning, and if Y/N was smart, she would have taken it as a premonition. Her hand was entangled with Draco’s as they strolled through the halls. They had decided to take a more scenic route that morning, just to get extra alone time. Eventually, they found their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. A few minutes later, the platinum haired boy announced he’d be right back, before planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek and walking away. As soon as he was outside of the doors, a girl situated herself in his previous spot.

“So, you know how we’re like besties, right?” Josslyn, a Ravenclaw, asked, turning to face Y/N.

“We’re not even friends…” Y/N trailed off, blinking slowly.

“I just figured I should let you know, girl to girl, that Draco isn’t who you think he is.”

“Look, I really don’t think it’s any of your business what --”

“We had sex three nights ago. In the broom closet on the sixth floor.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped as she wracked her brain for words to say to the girl next to her. She should’ve known. How could she have been so stupid?

“If you’ll excuse me…”

She quickly grabbed her bag, abandoning any breakfast she had left. Her stomach was twisting and turning and her brain kept repeating the accusation over and over again. She should have listened to her friends. They had tried to warn her this exact thing would happen again. As she exited the doors of the Great Hall, she came face to face with the boy she thought she could trust.

“You hurt me more than any boy ever has, Draco. I hope it was worth it.”

I was gonna end it here, but decided to give y’all a lil somethin extra

Back at the Slytherin table, Josslyn was sitting with her friends, giggling. Blaise narrowed his eyes as he looked at the girl across the table.

“Pansy, that’s impossible. Draco, Theo, and I snuck out three nights ago to go hang out at the Quidditch Pitch. We were there from midnight to four in the morning and then we all went straight to bed. He was so drunk off his ass that it was a miracle we got him back to the room. As much as Draco has been a player, I don’t think he actually fucked her.”

“So, she’s lying?” Pansy paused as Blaise nodded his confirmation. “Of course she is, little Ravenclaw bitch. I’m going after Y/N. You two deal with the little wench.”

Pansy quickly made her way out of the Great Hall, but not before giving her best death glare to Josslyn and her group of friends. Exiting the doors, she saw Draco sitting against a wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him and he seemed to be picking at a thread on his black shirt. She slid down the wall and sat next to him.

“It was Josslyn, by the way. She told Y/N that you guys had sex in the broom closet three nights ago.” she said after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve never so much as sent a glance her way. She’s always begging me to fuck her like some kind of animal. It’s appalling, to be honest. Go find another loser Ravenclaw. For fucks sake, I wish people would stay out of my business.”

“Are you serious about her, Draco? No games?”

“Yes. She’s the only one I’ve ever wanted in a way that’s more than physical. I wish you’d believe me. I don’t want to play games with her.” Draco growled.

The black haired girl swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath, and trying to let go of the previous grudges she held towards the boy, she put a hand on his shoulder.

“You need to go after her. If you’re serious, you need to go after her and tell her the truth. You need to do it now. I’ll come with you if you want back up. She needs to know the truth, no matter what.”

Draco’s blue eyes met Pansy’s brown ones and he nodded. He pulled himself off the ground, holding out his hand so the girl could get up as well. And then they set off to find the only girl that he wanted to see.

#hp #hp imagines #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagines #Draco #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x y/n #harry potter imagines #malfoy #angst #draco fanfiction #angst draco #imagines

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

THE OBEY ME BOYS AS YANDERES: GAKUEN EDITION

**thank u @sl33pymimikyu and @thelazystrawberryboi for the ideas! es para todos ustedes

You are accepted into a particularly exclusive, prestigious school. As you are of low class, it is an acceptance based purely on merit. A fact that some of your wealthier classmates use to bully you. Due to your lonely upbringing – your parents and close relatives died when you were young – you find yourself determined to make friends, pass with honors, and prove yourself.

Unfortunately, you just so happen to draw the wrong kind of attention.

Word Count: 3,369

TW: Blood, Violence, Mention of Sexual Harassment, Yandere

PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO / TRIGGERED BY THESE TOPICS. I HAVE TAGGED AND INCLUDED TRIGGER WARNINGS.

BELPHEGOR

You can’t remember the last time you’ve managed to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. Time passes by in a sleep-addled haze, given your penchant for afternoon naps and sleeping in, and each day is a struggle to focus on your classes. Belphie tells you that you should see a professional for your narcolepsy, that he can pay for the best medical treatment, but you won’t hear it. You’re not even sure if it is narcolepsy, considering its strange, sudden onset. You’ve tried time and time again to cure your condition. Pills, alarms, strict sleeping schedules – you’ve tried them all, to no avail.

Thankfully, you have Belphie at your side. At his behest, you’ve taken residence in one of his guest bedrooms for the time being. A precautionary measure to watch your condition. Without his generosity, you’re not sure if you’d have the ability to keep your scholarship.

You struggle to read the textbook in front of you. The words go in and out of focus, making you dizzy, and you grip the edge of the desk to stop yourself from falling over. It only works for so long. One wrong movement, and you feel your body tumble out of the chair and towards the ground.

Much to your surprise, Belphie catches you before you can crash into the floor. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“You shouldn’t be so careless,” Belphie chides, firmly placing you back in your seat. You mumble a quiet thank you, trying to hold him in your wavering vision, but he merely waves off your gesture of gratitude. “Coffee’s by your book. If you want more, just tell me.”

The coffee mug is warm in your hands. Freshly brewed, homemade, and steaming, with the coffee beans roasted to a deep flavor. Belphie insists on making cups of coffee for you day and night, which you greatly appreciate. Honestly, you’re not sure if you would even be able to stay awake without the extra caffeine.

LUCIFER

You’re sure that this is a direct violation of school policy. One involving sexual harassment, specifically. Lucifer, your biology professor, is close enough that you can feel his breath tickling the nape of your neck. His skin radiates warmth, even through the fabric of his dress shirt, and the darkness of the classroom shrouds his expression from you. The result of a random and unexpected blackout during your tutoring session. While the contact isn’t exactly unwelcome – Lucifer is very, very attractive, after all – you’re not certain that you’re comfortable with the current situation. Especially when he hasn’t made any indication of –

“There’s something dirty on your uniform,” your professor says, pulling the aforementioned object off your shoulder. You blink. “I see that blackouts are a bit too nerve-wracking for you.”

Oh.

He sighs. “I thought you heard me tell you that.”

You didn’t, but he could have just repeated himself. It’s not like you don’t have the ability to straighten your uniform. The blackout does have you a little on edge, besides – it would have been better if you had done it yourself.

The conversation for the rest of your tutoring session plays out nearly as you had expected. There is pride in having a perfectly clean, composed school uniform, he states, and it is imperative that all students learn the importance of appearance in the workplace. All impurities must be cleansed. Removed totally from one’s person and the surroundings. That is a major part of the school’s creed, after all. It would do no good not to follow it.

You wish you had listened that day. You wish that you had noticed the hunger in his gaze at the time.

Yet you would only realize the importance in his words months later. Your hands handcuffed to a pipe, the light flickering above in the sterile laboratory, and that hungry gaze branded on Lucifer’s features. The classmate that had dared to kiss and touch you without your permission had been strapped to the table.

You hadn’t bothered to listen to him the first time. If this lecture in biology isn’t enough, Lucifer says, then he’s not sure how else he can explain it to you.

MAMMON

He did give you a chance, he explains. Countless chances. If you had just agreed to be his the first time, you wouldn’t have forced his hand. If you had just allowed him to be greedy with your time, he wouldn’t have had to pay off his hitmen. If you had just given him everything of yourself – your time, your touch, your smile – then he wouldn’t have felt compelled to do what he did. So it is your fault that all your friends are dead, really. It is your fault that you have no one else but him now, if you can even consider it that.

Which you don’t, of course. You had glared at him from the golden bars of your cage as he had gone on and on in his spiel, adjusting your position in your shackles, and then you had spat on him when he dared to come close. While he had effectively monopolized your time, he would never have your heart. He would never truly have all of you, no matter how much he tried. No amount of money could buy it. You had called him a monster, a demon, a complete fucking bastard – anything and everything that you could think of. You had told him that nothing he could do would ever win you over. Your demands on being freed from your prison had fallen on deaf ears.

Even now, with a knife to your throat and his body pressed too close to yours, you don’t regret that decision.

“If I finally stop fucking around and take ya for myself, would ya hate me?” Mammon draws out, testing the blade against the delicate skin of your neck. You force yourself to stay still as blood begins to trail down the edge. “’Course ya would. But I’m nicer than that, so I think I’ll go ahead and explain again. Just for good measure.”

You gasp as you are driven higher up the golden bars of the cage, the cold metal digging uncomfortably into your back. Still, you fail to relent. Your glare is just as intense as ever, focused on Mammon, and Mammon responds in kind. The cocky smile that makes itself known on his features does nothing but irritate you, as is the sickening knowledge that you have little control over the situation. Your escape attempts have only angered Mammon further.

“I’d carve yer tongue out first, ya know,” he reassures you. “I’d carve yer heart out and take it for myself before ya gave it to anyone else. If ya think you can pull a fast one on me – well, ya got another thing comin’.”

LEVIATHAN

Each drop that falls from the shower head is a needle against your back. Piercing, biting, and numbing in the most unpleasant manner possible. Worst of all, it is a sensation that has forced you into a violent awakening, as if your mind had been clouded by some unknown entity. Denial, contradiction, some sort of psychological defense mechanism – regardless of whatever the name is, it is one that has been ripped away from your consciousness. And so you find yourself curling into fetal position on the floor of Levi’s shower, attempting to drive away the thoughts that threaten your already fragile psyche. Needle-like drops bury themselves into your skin, the tiled floor of the Levi’s exorbitant bathroom has rendered your fingers numb, and your wet hair plasters itself against the nape of your neck.

You should have known. Perhaps there was some part of you that was aware of Levi’s atrocities, quietly connecting the murders and disappearances to his obsessive adoration for you. Perhaps some part of you had known all along, and you had chosen to ignore it.

“Do you need help in there?” Levi’s voice calls beyond the door. You flinch. “You didn’t fall or anything, did you?”

Your mouth is dry when you open it to speak. The words are silent.

The cases were too clean to be anything but planned. You’re painfully aware of that now. The fact that they were all romantic rivals of some sort hadn’t been a coincidence. They hadn’t drowned on their own, either. Something had pulled them under, deep into the black waters and underwater caves, and they had little choice but to do so. Nitrogen narcosis and hypoxia could only occur so many times. Someone with a knowledge of the underwater cave systems near your school had known of its dangers and lured the victims there.

Who was more suited to do that than the captain of the swim team? It is an answer that is almost too obvious – as well as one that he had skillfully manipulated to hide himself in plain sight.

A knock at the door. It swings open. You can’t bring yourself to move.

Levi tuts as he gathers you up in a towel, doing his best to pat you dry. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he says, sighing. “Still, if you were too tired to shower without falling over, you should’ve told me. We’re friends, right? You can ask me to do anything.”

You hadn’t asked him to drown every one of his romantic rivals, but you keep that to yourself. Instead, you mumble something that you hope sounds like agreement.

Even as Levi works to dress you in your catatonic state, you think of the last expression you had seen on your date’s face. A mixture of surprise and bewilderment. You had noticed the familiar glove of the hand that had pulled him under, and the revelation had shocked you into complete and utter stillness for a few moments. Then you were desperately swimming upwards, your panic forcing you to use too much of your oxygen. You’re not sure if Levi dragged your date into a false chimney. You’re not even sure how Levi got you out of the water and to his family’s manor.

Regardless, you’ve been unconscious for nearly a day, your date’s body hasn’t resurfaced, and you’re now trapped in the same room as a murderer.

SATAN

While you haven’t sustained a concussion, you’ve awoken with more injuries than you would like. Which is just as well, considering what you’ve been through. One of your many harassers had saw it fit to throw you from a story balcony – payment for your uppity nature, he had said – and you had been powerless to fend him and his friends off. Your books had gone off the railing first, your papers fluttering to the ground. Next was your bag itself, your pens and pencils, and the calculator you had saved up to buy. You had flinched at the sounds of your belongings cracking and scattering against the concrete below.

And then it was your turn.

You remember screaming. Begging for your life. Despite your pleas – you wouldn’t score as high next time, you hadn’t cheated, this could very well kill you – they had decided to toss you off the balcony.

The crack of your own bones was sickening. You had fractured your femur, broken one of your arms, and earned more than a few lacerations and bruises from the impact – but you had lived. Satan had managed to find you mere seconds after you had fallen, he had explained. A fortunate coincidence. As the heir of a healthcare corporation, it had been no trouble to call an ambulance and have you treated for your injuries. He and his family could waive the fees for your treatment, of course. It was the least he could do as a friend.

Yet you have a nagging feeling that something is wrong. Something off about his story. You were dragged out of your dorm at night and taken to a secluded part of campus that night, you remember. How had he known you would be there? How had he found you in such a short amount of time? And the perpetrators had mentioned something about being paid off, too. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that –

The door to your hospital room slides open.

“How are you feeling?” Satan asks, a worried expression on his face. He crosses the room with quick, long strides and places a tray of food by your bed. Curried vegetables, white rice, and a hot cup of tea. “I know it’s not the best, but I hope it’s to your liking. I had you put in a more private wing, too – I figured you’d want some space.”

He shouldn’t feel obligated to apologize for hospital food of all things, you tell him. A pang of guilt strikes you. How could you think so badly of one of your only friends? You’re grateful that he was there.

Satan smiles. “Well, that’s good to hear,” he says. “My family owns this hospital, so feel free to stay here for as long as you like. I’ll inform the school later.”

You offer him a grateful smile, thanking him. He responds in kind.

Why would Satan pay someone to throw you off a balcony? The idea itself is completely ridiculous. Maybe you should get yourself checked for a concussion. Satan – your bookish, glasses-wearing, and studious friend – is about as dangerous as a newborn kitten.

ASMODEUS

It was, admittedly, a slow process. Anyone that had ever dared to harass and bully you had disappeared for a variety of reasons. Inexplicable ailments that sent them to the hospital. Drug overdoses that turned out to be fatal. Air embolisms for a variety of reasons, despite the youth and health of the victim. Calling cards that sent them to schools overseas. Freak accidents regarding pharmaceuticals. Mix-ups in medication.

Yet you ignored the strange occurrences. You sorely regret that decision.

Asmodeus twirls a ring of keys on one of his fingers, offering you that familiar, teasing wink. Given that you’ve been locked in this lavish room for days, however, it has an entirely new meaning now. He steps towards you with deliberation, his heeled boots clicking lightly against the marble floor, and you swallow audibly. He’s trying to intimidate you. He’s only trying to scare you. Asmodeus hasn’t raised a finger to you once since your capture, so you can at least have faith in that. Other than the drugged tea he had given you – a measure to render you unconscious and drag you in here – he hasn’t done anything else untoward.

“You’re really cute, you know,” he teases. “All that planning and scheming and plotting. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I thought you knew me better than that.”

You won’t say anything to anyone, you tell him. If he lets you out of here, you won’t tell anyone what he did. It would be disastrous if his family were to find out that he was using their pharmaceutical company for such purposes, wouldn’t it? While you don’t understand why he’s killed so many people, you promise you’ll –

Asmodeus stops for a moment, thinking. The keys are just an arm’s reach away. If you can just bolt off the bed fast enough and knock him out, you’ll have them. You’re fairly sure that you can overpower your waifish former friend.

“Really?” Asmodeus pouts. “You promise?”

You promise. You open your arms to give him a hug, urging him closer. You two are friends, right?

A moment passes. The tension between the both of you is thick and palpable, as is the silence.

And then Asmodeus is flying into your arms. You find yourself relaxing for a brief second as he sinks into your embrace, holding you close in that familiar way, and you let your guard down. This is the person who so valiantly defended you from harassment during the first few weeks in school. This is the person that helped you clean up your locker after class, emptied the tacks out of your shoes, and wiped off the derogatory scribbles on your desk. This is the person that had bothered to introduce himself on the first day of school, regardless of your status. If this hadn’t happened – if he hadn’t drugged and imprisoned you here – you would have considered him an infallible friend. Now, if you could just shove him to the –

Pain shoots from your shoulder. You turn to see a bright syringe sinking into the skin of your shoulder, the liquid forcing its way into your body. Asmodeus offers you a smile as you sink to the floor. Cradles you as your body goes slack. You mouth wordless questions at him.

“You idiot. You didn’t think I was that dumb, did you?” Asmodeus draws the now empty syringe from your shoulder. He sighs. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now, but I guess you’re still as dense as ever. Guess you’ll need some more reinforcement.”

Your vision blurs. A lock of hair is brushed away from your face and tucked behind your ear. Your limbs are unbearably heavy, your body refusing to listen to you, and your eyelids follow suit.

“It’s okay, though,” he reassures you, placing a quick kiss against your forehead. “Even if your mind breaks, I’ll still love you.”

BEELZEBUB

Despite being on the way to inherit a number of high-class restaurants, you often find Beel doing menial work in the kitchen. It was a sight that had caught you off-guard the first day of your part-time job – one that you haven’t gotten quite used to, actually. Beel explains that it’s best for him to know every aspect of the food and customer service industry, that it takes a load off the other employees, but you don’t quite believe that. You’re pretty sure he’s just there to snack on bread sticks and extra food. Most of the time, anyway.

Still, you can’t deny that he’s exceptionally good at cooking dishes made of ground meat. It becomes tradition to make you dinner after seeing you working in one of his father’s restaurants, which you gladly welcome.

And so you are treated to pub burgers topped with blue cheese and arugula. Spaghetti with wine-infused meatballs and freshly shredded parmesan. Baked mac and cheese filled with ground meat, five cheeses, and cream sourced from a local dairy farm. Shepherd’s pie with perfectly piped mashed potatoes on top. Wild mushroom soup with buttered, crusty bread. Stuffed zucchini drizzled with olive oil. After a long day of both school and part-time work, you gladly clear your plate each and every time.

You watch a news segment on your phone over dinner one evening. A newscaster prattles on about missing students in the area, some of their names seeming vaguely familiar, and you find yourself staring at their photos. While they are suspected to be murdered, it appears that the bodies are nowhere to be found. The killer must have some way of disposing most of the body parts, if not all of them. Anyone with information is welcome to –

Beel reaches over and turns off your phone for you, much to your surprise. There is a strangely serious expression on his face as he informs you that it’s rude to have your phone out at dinner – especially when he’s gone through the trouble of frying up croquettes. A hot plate of freshly fried, meat-stuffed croquettes is placed in front of you, and your thoughts about the strange news segment are immediately dismissed.

Halfway through dinner and with most of the croquettes devoured between the both of you, it occurs to you that you’ve never asked what kind of meat you’ve been eating.

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leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

Detention time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: They're high school students, Reader gets a detention and Dean, not wanting to be alone, joins them.

Warnings: Some insults, but nothing bad. Just two baddies idiots fooling around in school.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: My very first spn fic,,, I'm really excited about this!!!!! Although, a person with whom I talk of spn, would be surprised that my first fic isn't with Sam as he's my fav 😂, don't get me wrong, I love Dean too, but Sam- 👁️v👁️

"y/l/n, detention." A male voice announced which had basically become the anthem of the class considering how many times it was told, to her, or even, by the other troublemaker of the class, known as: Dean Winchester.

They both were called the detention duo, whether they'd have detention the same day or not, they'd always somehow have one in the same week.

But that day, only y/n had gotten one. The reason? Calling the teacher a moron, incompetent -and a bitch-, but she didn't hear it.

She'd probably have a nice trip to the principal, along with a possible one week exclusion.

She was...well known for her original words that would definitely be followed by a detention as soon as it was told.

Let's say that...she had her own behaviour that would make her ‘unique’.

This could kind of be seen as a show to the class, mostly from y/n's side, as all the teacher could say was a bit of complaining, and the famous sentences well known, to annouce the detention.

It was definitely funnier when coming from the teacher y/n just called a moron.

For Dean, it'd depend.

Sometimes it would be because he had called them a pussy, or just because the teacher had decided that he had annoyed them too much for its liking.

He'd even have the talent of getting detention when he was out of class.

So, thinking it'd be fun to bring back the detention duo, Dean decided to add his own spice to the party, doing it with another one, who hated him as much he hated y/n.

Dean would usually annoy him on purpose, but that time he just did it without realizing it, it had basically become a habit that he wouldn't even think of doing it, he'd already be doing it.

Not really any of the class could have predicted it, even if it hadn't become surprising coming from him at some point.

The hour had almost gone by calmly, and just a few minutes before the end were left.

But when Dean's remarks, and the lack of these because he wasn't doing anything was enough to the teacher, soon the whole class knew what was coming.

And, as if Dean hadn't fallen deep enough, he finished his answer with 'bitch'.

The final touch.

"Winchester, since I guess that you seem to have free time, and have disrespectful behavior, you'll be joining Saturday's detention, with a small trip to the principal beforehand?"

"Sounds good."

Result; both found themselves on a Saturday, each sitting at a spot across the room, not really knowing what to do.

As much as they were known as a duo, and possibly friends, y/n didn't like him a lot.

She was...kinda friend with his brother, Sam, but never really talked with Dean, even if they’d both been in detention quite a few times.

But Dean, just…being Dean, actually wanted them to be friends. He had tried multiple times to, somehow, have a chat that would last longer than one minute, which failed until now.

Today might be a good shot, and he's gonna try again, even if she might not be open to it.

Detention were a loss of time, they'd give either give you a stupid paper -which, by the way, wasn't even checked-, so whether you'd do it or not, they didn't care.

Or, in this case, they'd just have someone watch over you, they would have a glance, go out for a bit, come back later, or literally at the end of the detention…which could be the case right now.

They had left god knows where, leaving the "detention duo" to themselves, which didn't change much.

Whether the guy watching them was here or not, the room was so silent that you could hear a door opening from across the hall, even the first floor.

“You’re still going to be on silent mode, as usual?” Dean asked, glancing at the girl. “You could at least say hi, be polite, you know?”

“Fuck off Winchester.”

“I said polite, not asshole mode.”

“Since when am I supposed to talk nice to you as if we were pals?”

“You don’t necessarily have to be friends with someone to be nice, it’s just basics.”

“Well, I don’t really give a fuck about your basics. What about that?”

“Woah, chill. I was just trying to be nice, which you aren’t.” He muttered.

“Oh, because you’re nice? Aren’t you sitting in detention with me right now for calling the teacher a bitch?”

“He deserved it, and you kind of did the same thing as me, let me remind you of that.”

“He also deserved it, but, did I deserve to be annoyed by you though?”

“No, but my plan was totally different, I didn’t want to annoy you, on the contrary.”

“Hm, it seemed like it to me.”

“It’s just you seeing things that way instead of what they really are.”

“Oh really? You’re kidding, right Winchester?”

“Why would I be?”

“You’re always here, saying shit, that at some point it’s kind of complicated to know if you’re being serious or not.”

“I hate to admit that, but you’re...right, but just in a way, not completely. I can be serious if asked to.”

“Oh, because you can be? I never found you serious once.”

“Are you saying that I’m a fool?”

“I never said that, you just assumed it yourself right now.” She spat.

“No, I was just trying to guess what you meant when you said that you didn’t find me serious, that is all.”

“Oh, you should have told me. I thought you were trying to ask me how I was seeing you, and I just told it."

“Did anyone ever tell you that you can be...quite indirect sometimes? No?”

“I’m just pointing out the truth, what I think. What’s wrong with that?”

“What is wrong, is that it’s not necessarily what people want to hear from you, especially when they’re being nice, like with me.”

“I didn’t notice you were trying to be nice, you’re such an ass with teachers and some nerds that I didn’t even think there was an ounce of sweetness in your head.”

Touché.

“Well uh...people can be...nice, just because they’re, not really nice to some, and can seem...a bit intimidating, it doesn’t mean they can’t be nice to others.” Dean blurted out, desperately trying to find arguments.

“You’re a dick Winchester, face it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far to the point of being categorized as a dick, but okay, I can be...mean.”

“You forgot one adjective.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You sure?”

“...annoying.”

“There ‘ya go.”

“Is there anything else to add to the list of defaults you’ve noticed about me, or are you done?”

“Unless you want a four page long essay, I’m done...for now, at least.” Y/N said, tapping her pencil against the table. “Why? Do you want more? I can keep going, I have one week free.”

“No, I’m uh...I’m good.”

“Hm. I got nothing to talk about then, too bad.”

“There's a lot of stuff to say other than me.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know. What we like, what we hate about these teachers, or even random stuff we have. I know you like to talk about me, but we can switch the subject.”

“Me, liking to talk about you? You’re kidding. You just annoyed me, and I responded to you.”

“You seem quite enthusiastic and well informed.”

“No, I was not.”

“If you say so.”

“There’s no ‘if you say so’, as I said, I was just splitting out facts.”

“...that, again, seemed to be interesting enough for you to waste five minutes.”

“I regret answering you in the first place now.”

“No, you don’t. You love talking with me, I know you do. You should feel honored to have Dean Winchester talking to you, I don’t do that with many people.”

“Honored what? You’re not a star, you’re just the school’s brat.”

“You’re not as innocent as I am, I could call you a brat too, but I’m staying polite.”

“Oh, because you were being polite? I didn’t notice, you should have told me, I would have tried to take things differently.”

“I’m being polite, since the beginning of the conversation. You just didn’t notice, as you said.”

“Okay, you were a bit more polite than usual.”

“That’s a great compliment, coming from you.”

“Probably the only one you’ll receive.”

“The only one? You sure? I’m kind of...handsome. So, you should have some things to tell.”

“Am I supposed to see it as a joke or not?”

“...it wasn’t a joke.”

“I thought it was, because you're mostly an ass to me, not a handsome guy.”

“I know you don’t make jokes usually, but I think it’s one, no? Come on, you can’t say I’m not as handsome as all of these actors you see at TV and all.”

“What am I supposed to say in that?”

“That you find me nice, and all, you know. I know you got lots of things to say.”

“No, and even if I did, why would you deserve to hear them?”

“Because it’s...about me? You had a lot of...not really nice stuff, so it shouldn’t be a problem to say the opposite, if you happened to think that way.”

“Do I look like I want to waste the week I have to say that?”

“Maybe.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Come on, I’m not asking for a whole week, just like...a few days?”

“That’s even worse.”

“Okay, one day.”

“Less worse, but not better.”

“You don’t even have one day to spare for your favorite classmate? I’m charming, funny, nice...sometimes, I’m cool to hang out with, I got a nice brother, and plus, as we’re both Winchesters, it’s even funnier. I’ll pull him out of his books and drag him outside.”

“If I do agree, do I get to drag him outside too? I have to warn him though, I won’t be delicate.”

“You get to drag him outside, I’ll even let you do it, from start to end.”

“Then, I guess I can spare some time out of the free week I have.”

“Yeah, we don’t give a single fuck about the assignments.”

“Sam will help us on the last day.”

“True, we can threaten him too.”

“For once, you have good ideas.” She pointed out.

“What can I say? I’m a Winchester, so that’s pretty logical for me to be talented, creative and smart.”

“I said that you have good ideas, that’s all. I didn’t ask for you to brag about yourself.”

“You tempted me, and...by the way, since we’ll be stuck together for a week, might as well become less formal?”

“You mean...with our names? Me calling you Dean, and you calling me y/n?”

“That’ll be a great start.”

“It’s a bit weird though. I’ve always been calling you Winchester, it’s weird to call you Dean all of a sudden.”

“See it as a small privilege, not that many people get that chance.”

“Do any other people get the chance of getting annoyed by you?”

“I’m not annoying, just like to chat a lot. Come on, y/n, it’s not that hard to call me by my name, you gotta get used to it to preserve your privilege.”

“You’re lucky that the only knives we have here are plastic ones, and totally harmless. I would have already stabbed you by now.”

“You’ll be way too sad without me here.”

“Not at all Dean.”

“I doubt so, y/n.”

“I’ll have Sam with me to replace you.”

“Nah, not even Sam can. I’m Dean Winchester, no one can replace me.”

“I spent a lot of time with Sam, and it was as nice as when I’m with you.”

“You mean, book talk? That’s not what I call fun.”

“It’s more interesting.”

“It’s boring.” Dean said.

“Boring is what I say when I happen to be with you, which is right now.”

“Nah, you had fun.”

“Yeah, 1%.”

“I’m sure it’s a bit more than that, we've been here for one hour already.”

“Okay, 1,000001%. Is that better?”

“Not really.”

“I was being nice by adding all of these zeros.”

“It made it just a bit worse. It should have been 50% at least.”

“50% is a bit too much, would have given 20% maximum.”

“I guess it’s better than 1%.”

“I’m being generous, I gave 19% more.”

“I better get a piece of paper to remember it, it’s quite rare coming from you, I’m honored.”

“Watch out, I might get back on my decision to waste my precious time with you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going to be extra nice.”

“I’ll make sure to have my phone and record it, I might not believe it when I’ll happen to think about it a bit later.”

“I said that I was going to be nice, that applies for you too.”

“Fine, Dean.”

“See, it took one hour for us to get along, and for once, it wasn’t a bad detention. You even ended up calling me Dean.”

“If you say so, and yeah, it was better than usual. We should try to get another, but outside of the class, like being late three times when we get back next week, and maybe add something to not just get detention.”

“Yeah, ‘could be nice. Our parents are going to be pretty pissed off at that.”

“To be honest, did we ever care about that?”

“Not once, as long as I can recall.”

“Exactly.”

“It might get us kicked out at some point.”

“I never liked studying anyway, I won’t mind getting out of here.” She admitted.

“Who likes that?”

“Sam.”

“Oh, he’s always been a nerd. But, a nice one, and not really annoying.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of like us, but...a bit more strict. Bet 10 dollars he’s going to lecture us.”

“Bet.” Dean answered.

“Okay deal. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“They’re going to annoy us for that.”

“They said we’re out for a week, we’re just leaving early.”

“I guess it’s okay then.”

“Hell yeah it is. We have one week to waste ahead of us.”

“I’ve never enjoyed an exclusion that much before.”

“That’s normal, I wasn’t there to make it fun. Now we’ll spend these together, it’ll be a nice one instead of a useless one.”

“Let’s get to it then.” Dean announced, as he crossed the door after her, sneaking out to walk in the direction of the hallway.

Guess that detention wasn’t that bad after all.

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural dean #supernatural fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #jensen ackles x reader #dean x y/n #supernatural au

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vexfulfolly · 3 years

Text

The Fondest Memories

hi @cosmicpines I was your gifter for @codesecretsanta!!! I hope you enjoy!

It seemed like a great idea, bringing Aelita into the real world and enrolling her at their school. It wasn’t like they didn’t have time to plan things out— to make sure her transition was as smooth as possible— because they had plenty of time to do so. Whether or not that time was spent agonizing over details that were practically meaningless until confronted later. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there was their daily motto for almost an entire year.

So they weren’t exactly thinking it all the way through when they created Aelita’s new identity. At a glance, it was watertight. No one would dare to look too deep into anyone associated with the de la Robbias. Looking at Odd’s records was an absolute mess, so why even bother with Aelita’s?

It was a quick way to get her in the door and out of deep scrutiny, but that in and of itself presented problems. Like right now. It was a month before winter break and each warrior’s family was making plans to bring their children home for the holidays. Except Aelita.

As it stood, there were only two viable options; someone had to take Aelita home with them (which would be the markedly tougher option), or someone would have to stay behind with her. Despite being somewhat acclimated to Earth, she was still wobbling on fawn-like legs during social situations. Or most situations, granted she was unsupervised.

Which was what brought everyone together on a crisp afternoon in early November, piled into Jérémie’s room and in deep discussion.

“I hate to say it, but I can’t stay,” Jérémie sighed. “My parents have already booked a flight for me. They thought having a tropical Christmas would be a good idea for some reason.”

To add insult to injury, he sounded truly apologetic.

“I’ll be around the corner, but granted I don’t stay at the dorms anyway, my parents definitely won’t take well to me “sneaking off” during family time,” Yumi grimaced, making sure her displeasure over the last few words was clear.

If the rest of the conversation went as positively as this first two minutes had, they were all screwed. The only two people that remained were Odd and Ulrich— the two people most likely to want to stay at Kadic through the break.

Odd snorted. “My parents won’t even notice if I’m here or there, but they did book train tickets. If I never showed, they wouldn’t care. So, what say you, good buddy? Am I staying behind or have you already worked it out?”

Every eye fell on Ulrich in anticipation.

“I’m staying,” he said simply.

He was met with several sighs of relief, and one disappointed Odd. “You’re really gonna make me go?” He pouted, though it sounded more like a demand.

“Yeah, otherwise Jim will get suspicious of too many of us staying behind. Besides, you’ll be able to let Kiwi play in the snow without worrying about getting caught.”

The resulting whine from the blonde was a cross between exasperation and resignation, and Ulrich had never heard a sound so sweet. Aelita decided she’d make presence known at that point, carefully patting the blonde on the back as he grumbled. “Well, what do you even do over a break? Especially the winter one?” She asked.

Ulrich shrugged. “Winter stuff.”

The topic was dropped.

The first day of the winter break was reserved exclusively for seeing the gang off. Most kids were heading home, though a teeny-tiny minority stayed behind. Ulrich and Aelita were now a part of that minority.

By the time everyone had left the school, and the halls no longer buzzed with sound, dinner was ending and it was almost curfew. Aelita and Ulrich had spaghetti and meatballs together— much to Odd’s vocal displeasure when he saw it on that evening’s menu— and parted once they reached the dorms.

“What will we be doing tomorrow?” Aelita asked.

Ever the over-communicator, Ulrich glanced out the window at the blanket of snow that never seemed to stop growing. “I’ll introduce you to normal winter stuff. Dress warm, we’ll be outside,” he said before waving. “Good night.”

The next morning found Ulrich walking Aelita through the woods. They wound through thickets and tall snow banks, truly getting to experience what winter had to offer. It was a quiet walk (though, at this point, it was more of a hike than a walk). As they approached the tree line, Aelita’s emerald eyes caught sight of the factory from between the bare trunks.

“The factory?” She blinked, like it was the last place she’d expect to see. “Why are we here?”

“We’re not here for the factory,” Ulrich started. The duo broke through the edge of the forest and basked in the midday sun. It was then that Aelita noticed that the water that acted like a moat was frozen.

“We’re here for the lake.”

Suffice to say, without ice skates, music, and other skaters, the duo were nothing but inelegant. Ulrich taught Aelita how to slide about on the ice, how to skid into something resembling a stop, and getting her to glide backwards. Eventually their ice skating devolved into races around the factory, and to hockey— which they played with two tree branches and a pine cone.

By the time they started heading back to the school, the sky was dimming. Aelita’s cheeks were cherry red and her breath was coming in short puffs of exhaustion, but the grin on her lips was the most genuine thing. Ulrich even found his own lips tilting upward at the sound of her elated laughter.

“Oh, that was wonderful, Ulrich!” She beamed, bouncing to and fro through the snow banks. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

He fought off a chuckle. “Sure. I can show you the other stuff later.”

Though her curiosity was piqued, she didn’t inquire further about the “other stuff”. Ulrich was coming to realize that she liked surprises.

Aelita hummed happily the entire walk back to Kadic. The thought made Ulrich warm. When they stumbled back indoors, the fiery sensation of needles on bare skin told the duo they’d been out a bit too long. The back of Ulrich’s thighs were on fire, and Aelita’s fingers cried out in pain.

She was wincing and nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot when Ulrich pulled her out of her head.

“There’s only one cure to freezer burn,” he started leading her to the cafeteria, though dinner wasn’t going to be served for hours. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to make it.”

When they made it into the cafeteria, Ulrich made straight for the kitchen doors, which gave Aelita pause. Students weren’t allowed in the kitchen on a good day— what made Ulrich think trying to get in there over winter break would be a better idea? Even then, one of the lunch ladies was probably in there starting on dinner. They’d be caught in no time, so what was Ulrich planning?

“You coming, Princess?”

Aelita had been so deep in thought that she’d completely stopped walking, and was staring intently at Ulrich’s relaxed form.

“Are you sure that—“

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

With Ulrich acting as cocksure and confident as Odd, Aelita could do nothing more than follow behind him and hope for the best. The moment the door swished shut behind her, Ulrich was greeting Glenda with a nod before heading to the opposite side of the kitchen. He flitted in and out of cupboards and pantry doors before placing a shallow pot on the stove.

He was still gathering things here and there when Aelita asked, “Why aren’t we getting in trouble?”

Ulrich placed two mugs side by side on the counter. “Odd and I have had our fair share of early mornings and late evenings. Glenda’s always the first one in and the last to leave. Let’s just say, she’s fine with us being here so long as the other students don’t know and we pick up after ourselves.”

Aelita didn’t know why she was so surprised by that fact. Of course, every warrior had their fair share of trauma from Xana. If Odd and Ulrich suffered from nightmares or insomnia, Aelita was no one to judge. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she watched as Ulrich melted a good amount of chocolate in the pot before mixing in some milk. He stirred it lightly for a few minutes more before splitting the contents of the pan between the two mugs. He added a tad extra milk to each one before passing the pinkette a plastic spoon.

Ulrich tilted his mug in her direction, as if to toast. “To winter break?” He asked.

“To winter break,” she replied.

Their cups clinked together, and the second day of winter break came to a close.

“Since when did you know how to cook?” Aelita asked later that evening. “I didn’t take you as one to— not to offend— be knowledgeable about it.”

Ulrich chuckled lightly. “I’m a terrible cook, I just know how to make hot chocolate. My mother taught me when I was younger. Every year we’d play hockey in brook behind the house, and when we came back we’d make hot chocolate to warm us up.”

Ulrich hasn’t said that many words directly to Aelita for almost as long as they’ve known each other.

Aelita smiles tentatively. “That’s… really nice.”

Ulrich hums warmly before waving good night to the girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early,” he says.

And Aelita can’t stymie the excited laugh that bubbles up from within. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Even as they walk their separate ways, Aelita likes to think she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips in the reflection on the windows.

By the time winter break is over, Aelita has been officially inducted into the exclusive group of students given kitchen rights. Four days after starting classes once again, Aelita finds herself standing in the kitchen at half past the witching hour, wondering why her world weary body brought her here. When Glenda sees the girl half asleep in her cup of cocoa, she simply gives the girl a nudge and pushes her out. “Wait! I didn’t get to do the dishes!” She tries to argue.

“Get some sleep before classes start, and I might forgive ‘ya,” Glenda tuts, and Aelita knows that the lunch lady has won this round.

When Aelita curls up in her bed, anxieties and nightmares long forgotten, she takes in the lingering scene of hot chocolate in the air and thinks about Ulrich and the week of shrieking laughter and restrained joy they shared.

Aelita sleeps through the first three classes and shuffles down for lunch looking like death warmed over, but Glenda serves her the best part of the lasagna with a knowing look, and the young girl dines with her friends.

She feels more like a living, breathing human at that moment than during any other.

To her, the most human emotion isn’t rage or something as simple as love, she thinks it’s the gleeful innocence of playing in the snow on a cold day, and the creature comfort that is fuzzy socks and diamond snow.

She no longer feels in binary and thinks in CSS.

The girl that is Aelita Stones is born on a cloudy day in December, and she is utterly grateful to the boy who pushed her into the wild and wonderful world she now resides in (even if he pushed her into a snowbank to do it).

#code secret santa 2020 #code ss20 #codesecretsanta #Aelita Stones #aelita hopper #aelita schaeffer #ulrich stern #Code Lyoko

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