#{I didn’t think stuff would be progressing so fast but between this and that blog

[no-future-mudwasps]

Local_Storage_Only: Make Do

Just— are you okay?

I’m fine.

You don’t sound fine.

That’s because you’re sleep deprived. For which I apologize.

It’s— it’s whatever. Sil, it’s whatever.

…

I just have to wonder if he should take a break. —Disperse the secondary battery, it’s charging.

Dispersed. Volt limiter replaced.

You’re brave, Sal.

I’ve worked under worse circumstances.

He just made a friend! He’s talking to people, that’s progress.

Yeah, and now he’s actively trying to message someone who’s— what— scooping people out?

They made a mourner.

..! Do you hear this? Not just me? That can’t be healthy!

I couldn’t get to them as it stands. There’s no ask function, and I’m not so angry as to use the account publicly.

Okay, granted. But are you gonna keep reaching out to her? Standard Omni encryption and an anonymous button isn’t going to hold up if anyone scrutinizes. It’s my job to know that.

Always the messenger…

Don’t make that face, you see where he’s coming from. None of this is easy, for any of us.

…

Ennes, try now? —Good! Hhhh, just try to break that.

If you want to keep on the Omni without one of us looking over your shoulder, stop trying to get involved with all of this. Gatecrasher—

Torchbearer.

Fine—

And her name was Ash.

Fine. Talk to people normally, whoever they are, and stay away from shit that’s going to make this any more stressful than it is. That’s how we build trust here, right? Cowie?

…

I wanna go back to bed.

Please, let’s all. Saleh, thank you for your work again. I don’t know where I’d be without you.

Anything for a friend. Gnight, all.

[whumpurr]

Adrien and Sawdust part 6

cw: pet whump, whump recovery, bodily mutilation, self harm, brief and vague mention of past noncon, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, unreliable narrator, brief mention of dissociation

masterlist

Sawdust was searching for his bag the second Master was gone. He hopped out of bed, punctuated with a fit of dizziness as he got to his feet, and crawled around the room looking for his duffel bag. The bright blue bag was nowhere to be found, and Sawdust wasn’t great at seeing in the dark either.

He started to wonder, to second guess himself. Did Master put the bag somewhere in the room and Sawdust just isn’t seeing it? Is he overlooking it? Did he even have a bag at all? Did it come with him to this new house, or was it left with his previous master? No, no, he remembered seeing it next to his kennel with those other people.

If he left the room now, Master would surely hear it and question him, or worse, punish him for disturbing his sleep. As much as Sawdust wanted his ears back, he just had to trust that Master would return them in due time.

Sleeping was difficult without the familiar squeeze of his headband around his head, but with a full stomach he managed to eventually fall asleep even if it took a while.

Sunlight came all too soon for Sawdust. The light peeked through the curtains and he couldn’t physically sleep any more. He was dreading going downstairs and having to face his master, having to eat beside him. He could only imagine what his master was going to do to him. Would he record him? Bring his friends over and show him how pathetic and stupid he looked eating out of a bowl on the floor? Sawdust shook himself out of his thoughts; he was just a dog anyways, he shouldn’t have enough of an ego to be embarrassed.

He was getting himself out of bed, going down onto his hands and knees when he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Master’s quiet voice.

“Sawdust?” Master said from the other side of the heavy wooden door. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

Sawdust got to the door and opened it with his paw, stepping out and following Master.

Master gave him a bowl of dog food once he was downstairs. Sawdust half contemplated asking Master about his ears, but really, if Master had taken them away then it was because Sawdust did not deserve them any more.

“Master,” Sawdust murmured, “Is- is there anything your pet can- can do? To assist?”

Master looked thoughtful for a moment then laughed, laughed at Sawdust.

“I think my work stuff is a bit advanced for you,” Master took a bite of his own food, “I want you to focus on… recovery, for now. Okay? That means you rest up and come get me if you want anything, food, water, whatever.”

Sawdust nodded, “Yes, Master,” before he continued eating, the hard kibble crunching satisfyingly between his teeth. He couldn’t work up the courage to ask Master about the ears or his bag, or where they’ve gone.

Lunch and dinner went similarly, with Master coming, getting his pet, and taking him downstairs to eat. Each time Sawdust couldn’t work himself up enough to ask Master about his ears. The lack of his ears made Sawdust feel… Wrong. Like he wasn’t a real dog, like he was a subpar pet. He wasn’t good enough to this new Master who had otherwise been so kind to him. What had he done to deserve this?

Night eventually fell, and Sawdust did his best to do as Master said and get to sleep. He curled up in the nest of blankets and pillows that his Master had made in the corner for him, and let himself begin to drift off. As he was doing so, he couldn’t help but wonder why his Master was withholding his belongings from him. Nevertheless, his eyelids grew heavy, and he eventually fell into a deep sleep.

--

Adrien was still getting accustomed to feeding someone using a dog bowl, with dog food, on the floor. It was a strange experience, and doing it made him feel dirty, but it was all Sawdust was going to accept so if it was between that or making the pet starve again, he would have to go with the former.

He was still very aware of just how lost he was in all of this. He searched the internet and scoured his social media for something that could give him some kind of life preserver in all of this. Finally, finally, he found something. A chatroom for pet owners. From the looks of it, it was heavily moderated and geared more towards pet liberation activists, and pet rehabbers, and people who actually cared for their pets. He requested to join and was accepted within the hour. He immediately sent a message to the ‘help’ section.

Adrien: >> Hey guys, I’m a new owner and I didn’t do as much research as I should have. >> Long story short, I didn’t keep as close an eye on my pet as I should’ve, and he ended up not eating because I wasn’t giving him dog food. Is that a normal thing? How can I help him?

It wasn’t five minutes before one of the other owners responded,

1Y4N4: >> oof, thats no good dude.. definitely watch him harder and probably just stick to feeding him what he wants for now. u said hes new right? let him stay in his comfort zone for a little bit probably

Adrien: >> Thanks. I’ll do that.

1Y4N4: >> np, im a bit more experienced as an owner but i dont think mine were as conditioned as urs >> at least not in that way

Zo: >> Bro wtf? You’re the source of your pet’s whole life and shit, you really should’ve done more research.

Adrien sat and watched as this ‘Zo’ person continued to rip into Adrien for his irresponsibility, though the ‘1Y4N4’ user at least tried to defend Adrien. It wasn’t long before Zo quieted down and 1Y4N4 was able to speak up again,

1Y4N4: >> lots of actual dogs eat things that arent dog chow >> maybe show your pet some videos of people feeding their dogs other stuff, maybe hell be more open then

Adrien thanked the user, and used the rest of his evening compiling some videos and researching, finding the outer bounds of what dogs could eat in hopes that he could convince Sawdust. It was far from exactly what he wanted, but he felt some semblance of satisfaction that there was at least a way to progress forwards.

--

Sawdust finally came up with a plan when he was coming out of the bathroom the next morning. It was before Adrien had gotten up. As Sawdust was leaving the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His hair was all matted, and the fringe at his forehead was beginning to grow to hide his eyes. He looked lacking without his ears. There were deep circles under his eyes. At least the peaks of his cheeks and his lips were starting to regain some color now that he had a steady supply of food which he undoubtedly did not deserve. The scratched scar across his nose bridge and cheek that one of the other dogs gave him was still there. He looked at that and followed it across his face to his second ears.

His dumb second ears, the ones on either side of his head that his last master hated so much. His previous master had always told him that they made him look less like a dog, less like a pet, when a pet was all Sawdust ever wanted to be. Because if he wasn’t a pet, then he was a toy for both Master and the other dogs, and that was one step above the most reprehensible thing he could be. He had been downgraded to ‘toy’ for a short amount of time previously, and he was eternally grateful that he was never dropped even lower, to being nothing but food for the other dogs.

Master threatened that sometimes, chopping him up and feeding him to the other dogs.

Whenever Sawdust looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help imagine it. Being cut up and thrown to other animals to eat. He found some part of himself that felt that- even if he could never do anything else right- he could do that right. He tried to halt that train of thought as quickly as he could, before his mind shunted him off to some dark, foggy place where he couldn’t think or feel until the bad thoughts went away.

But at the root of those thoughts, he found the problem, as well as the solution. He scrambled down to the kitchen as fast as he could go, wanting to work quickly before he could stop himself.

He got to the kitchen sink, and stood up on trembling, unused legs. They could hardly support his weight, he had to lean onto the granite countertop with his elbows as he reluctantly removed the tape from his paws using his teeth. He would need his fingers for this.

Sawdust’s breath was quick in his throat, the edges of his vision grew blurry as he tried to focus on this and only this. He had one task and he was not going to fail it. He wanted his ears back. He wanted his master to be happy with him again. Maybe this way he could earn his master’s attention and... Maybe even his affection, if a pet was allowed to hope.

Sawdust’s paws were shaky and clumsy as they took out the biggest knife out of the wooden blog. It was heavy and cold in his paw. With one paw he held the tip of one of his second ears and pulled it as far away from his head as he could.

The cold edge of the blade rested on his skin, at the valley between his second ear and his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t break down now, he couldn’t stop now. He took a deep, sharp breath and pressed down on the knife as hard as his feeble paws could.

--

Adrien shot out of bed to the sound of a piercing, howling scream from downstairs.

taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whumpcreations @dancinglifeboat @pinkraindropsfell @looptheloup @cowboy-anon @meetmeinhellcroutons @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine

[kanene-yaaay]

Go to Sleep

Kanene’s note: Gosh, having a schedule is weird. I just wanna post everything I already wrote and ramble non stop about it asdfgtyujkigfdo. XD

Well, this was suppose to be a drabble, but it’s very long so sdftyujikgfred. I hope you like it!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders from the serie Sanders Sides.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic. If you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Virgil with Ler!Roman. Around 1.500 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Listen a bit to the birds today. Changing the way you think is not a bad thing. Drink water, sleep, eat and love!

[~*~]

Roman growled, missing by a few inches the button of his thunderous, infuriating alarm before finally hitting it. Staring and blinking lazily at the numbers his brain struggled to discern and recognize, only to confirm it was really time to wake up and start the day. He grabbed his pillow and squeezed it with all the strength he could muster, rolling from one side to other on the mattress, trying to wake up his body as quick as his mind and almost falling from the bed a reasonable number of times during the process.

 He got up, yawing, stretching and humming as the first lyrics of the day stuck on his head, hand rubbing at his eyes as he followed the kitchen’s direction with slow steps and tired sways on the beat of the song.

 Two dark, wide eyes stared right back at him, their owner completely frozen on the spot with his hand inside the cabinet, probably already holding some sort of a snack. Roman also stopped mid-step, gears running inside his mind, gaze locked on the other, his brow progressively furrowing.

“Virgil,” he began, voice slightly hoarse “What the heckty heck are you doing up? It’s barely seven in the morning!” Virgil only stared back, slowly closing the cabinet’s door, as if afraid the movement would startle the other. Roman proceeded to get some eggs and other cold ingredients from the refrigerator for the breakfast, his words growing more awake and vivid as they spilled with no filter or whatsoever from his lips. “You got an early shift again or something? Those are absolutely hellish. A bunch of people exhausted, tired and glaring at you as if you are the holder of all their problems and their solutions can only be achieved by being insufferable pieces of- Urg. I can’t believe they would give you one right after you got the night one. Damn, I didn’t even see you arriving here yesterday!”

 He turned his attention back at the other, looking for a kind of frustration in the place of the still startled, wide gaze which continued to be directed at him. Virgil nodded slowly, stepping away and putting some physical distance between him and the confusion on Roman’s features.

 Then, between the strings of sleepiness that clouded his brain, it clicked.

 Suddenly more details on the other’s behavior started to become clearer: the way Virgil’s hair was messier than his usual ““style”” (Roman scoffed mentally, thinking that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would never come back to his normal place again), his wary, yes, but way too much slow movements, the way he seemed to be unable to stop blinking at every millisecond and, above it all, the final piece of the puzzle.

 Virgil wasn’t wearing his pajamas.

 “YOU DIDN’T!” Roman gasped, as if Virgil’s life choices were a personal attack. “YOU DIDN’T GET ANY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!!” A turn of heels and he was again fixating his glare on the other, his free hand accusingly pointing in his direction, receiving an annoyed hiss as immediate answer.

 “Shut up!” Virgil snarled, practically growling back at him. “It’s fucking seven am don’t be so freaking loud.”

 “Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

 The one being questioned just snorted, half amused. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever sleep in my whole life.”

 “That is it.” Virgil didn’t even have the time to wonder the meaning of his friend’s sentence before the aforementioned picked him up, resulting to a not very contained shriek escaping from his lips and his hands not much gracefully – or gently, although since they were keen on just jumping on each other out of nowhere to play fight Princey would be fine - meeting his friend’s face.

 “Roman! What the he-”

 “Did you just SLAP me? My beautiful face?! Before my own beautiful eyes??” Virgil Storm always got, even if he would never admit this out loud, surprised with Roman’s capacity of doing a series of offended incoherent noises which evolved to words before being carefully metamorphosed in weird noises all over again, and in the end still managing to form comprehensible sentences. His surprise did nothing to quell the grumpy snark immediately flying from lips, though.

 “And I’m going to do it again if you don’t let me go in this exact instant.”

 “You go and try to help and that is the acknowledgement you get,” The one wearing pajamas with little crows printed on it huffed, mumbling in a lower tone as he noticed the sharp gaze being thrown in his direction. “fucking unbelievable.”

 “I still can hear you, Princey. You’re literally carrying me.”

 “I sTiLL cAn HeAr yOu-OW! Ow! Ow!” The sentence was interrupted when the sleep deprived one punched Roman’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

 “Let me fucking gAAH!” In a way his wish was granted, one could say as they watched his protest being cut as Storm was impolitely tossed on his bed, Roman quickly following his friend on the mattress, arms hugging him from behind, and physically preventing him from escaping his current soft predicament. “Prince, you’re dead.”

 “Shhh, no talking. We’re sleeping.”

 “We are not. You are being a pain in ass and I am about to defenestrate you.” Despite his fervent protests, his sharp, flaming glare began to lose its heat, his body not doing any actual effort to free himself from the other’s – strong, good - grip, muscles starting to relax against the great warmth involving him in a comfortable and secure blanket.

 “Sure, sure, mister Grumpy Pants, you can do that when you wake up.” He tightened a bit his hold around Virgil, yet being the most careful as possible, actively ignoring the annoyed hiss his friend gave him. His hoodie was really fluffy at the touch, slightly remembering his stuffed animals he frequently hugged to sleep.

 For a moment, everything was pleasantly quiet. The one with smudged makeup, since he hadn’t time to get it off before being trapped by his roommate and best friend, felt the tiredness becoming sleepiness as the seconds went by.

 …That was until an electric sensation shot across his spine, leading him to almost jump in the same place 

 “S-stop nuzzling me!”

 “Hm? Oh sorry.” Virgil pressed his lips tightly closed, preventing the wobbly giggles to escape as Roman speaks, not realizing how close his mouth was from the base of his neck, every breath sending tickly shocks across every nerve. “You’re just too much sooooft.”

 Roman opened an eye when realized that no snark remark from the other followed his words, the figure in his arms shaking too much to be asleep. A frown painted his feature as he readjusted the position of his hands, trying to get a bit more of balance to look at Virgil’s face when suddenly a high-pitched yelp escaped, cutting the air and immediately catching their attention.

 “Did you just squeal?” He questioned as his glare assumed a playful shine seeing a blush spread on his now frozen friend.

 “It was NOT a squeal! It was a yelp.” Virgil’s words came so fast that they almost tripped on themselves. Roman snorted, a smile taking over his face. “Get off me!” and, in the moment the one wearing a hoodie tried to pry his hand from the spot on his right side where it was resting, the pieces finally clicked in the right place and his smile quickly submerged, giving space to a smirk.

 ‘No WAY Doctor Doom and Gloom is ticklish!’

 However, the red lover only blinked as the true personification of innocence and naiveness, his hand firm in its place, fingers starting to slowly move, light pokes being delivered on the sensitive skin. “But why that, Knight Mare? It’s cold and all I could ever want is just to hug my bestest friend!”

 “You already hugged me, now go aWAY!” His voice trembled in the last second, the exact moment his thumb experimentally scratched the spot right under the lowest ribs, leading a surprised squeak to leave Virgil’s mouth.

 They both stared at each other, gleaming, filling their wide eyes.

 “No.” Virgil said, trying to squirm away but finding himself stuck between Prince and the wall. Roman didn’t even attempt to hide his smug grin, anymore. This was going to be so much fun

 “Don’t you dare! Don’t you freaking dare!!” His friend only laid down again, now carefully, yet firmly, pulling him one more time against his chest, growling playfully. Years and years fighting for the Tickle Monster title on his family, battles and battles against Remus only sharpening his skills, which showed by the way his fingers seemed to find every single weak spot on Virgil’s skin, wiggles, scribbles, pokes and scratching exploring everywhere. “No! Nononono! You fucker, you moron, you bitch, you-” A few chuckles cut his curses as he one wearing pajamas squeezed his side a couple of times, the tip of his fingers also teasing his ticklish stomach. “Roman!!”

 “No, no, my so dear, so ticklish, friend. Roman is no longer here, this is…” He paused for a dramatic effect, basically beaming at the giggly giggles and wiggly wiggles from the other. He shoved his face on his neck, the next words vibrating almost as bad as the spidering on his ribs. “The Tickle Monster!!”

[angelkurenai]

Break those rules - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Break those rules

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hey! So this is my attempt at making a request: DeanxReader where feelings have not been expressed yet. They're just researching some stuff together. The reader absent mindedly smiles when they're reading something. Deano notices. Then he just kind of jabbers about how adorable the reader's smile is. End with a kiss and finally expressed feelings maybe? I wrote a short little writing prompt kind of like this on my blog. (It's near the bottom if you want a better idea for the request) Thanks! xxx

“I don't get why Sam has to get away with only three hours of research and I am stuck here for the fifth hour. In a row.” Dean said with a rather heavy, and even more dramatic, sigh as he flipped open another book and rested his chin on his palm.

“Stuck here huh? Wow, way to make me, and the company I offer you, feel so flattered, Winchester.” you said as you looked up at him through your lashes. He couldn't see much of your face as you kept focus on the book before you but that didn't mean he couldn't hear the obvious playfulness that laced your voice or nearly feel, let alone imagine, the small smirk that tucked at the corner of your lips.

“You know what I mean.” and still, despite your easiness, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest if only for the pout you gave him – playful or not – and he rushed to speak again “To tell you the truth, being in your company does make it ten times better and always worth it, but-” he raised a finger “That's still not enough to make up for...” he looked down at the books, his face a mix between horror, disgust and exhaustion as he said “This. And besides, we're not even making progress as it is. Field work could do much more or say if it was more than just the two of us here, there could be en end to... this.”

“This-” you tried to mimic his tone “Is what we can only do now, I am afraid, no field work left. And to answer your previous question: Sam gets away with three hours because he's already read through his part of books. Meanwhile you are stuck over that book for the past hour. And you're not going anywhere before you read the rest either. Stop stalling.”

“Then stop being so distracting, for a change yeah?” he couldn't help but mumble as he rested his chin on his palm and slid a little bit down his seat.

“How? I didn't even start this in the first place!” you protested, eyes wide.

But certainly not as wide as his when he realized the words had really slipped past his lips “What- n-no, I- I didn't-” he started but actually stopped himself “Well, actually-” he felt bold, maybe even looked like it and hopefully - he prayed to any deity that didn't hold a grudge on him and that was listening - that he looked confident as he imagined in his head; or at least the part of his head where he wasn't freaking out “You heard me. It would be much easier to focus if you weren't so distracting.”

“Do tell? And what is so distracting about what I said? Seeing as you were the one to start this conversation.” you asked with a small smirk, ready to sass him out of anything that he could come up with, just like you'd done so many times before. Or so you expected.

“Nothing.” he shrugged, face mostly neutral save for the casual half smile “It's not what you said. It's not anything you did either. It's just you being you. You're distracting. I just look at you and get carried away in an instant. Sometimes you're so distracting I can't even get my thoughts in an order, let alone focus on research. So, no, really you are the only one to blame here. But ain't that in the best way possible, huh sweetheart?” he asked with his smile turning into a grin.

He was proud at himself for getting it all out without a single stutter and even more praising himself deep down for not showing any of the panic he was feeling, slip through. Because oh there were all kinds of red lights and sirens going off in his head at the moment; he was freaking out not only at this newfound surge of bravery but also at the words that were really coming out of his lips in this very moment. Why now, when after all this time he had held them back along with his infatuation- schoolgirl crush, Sam would say and he would be 100% right about it even if Dean never admitted it out loud. And even more he was proud with himself for - by whatever miracle - how it did sound like he was flirting and not struggling to be a human. So much so that he huffed his chest out a bit, thinking that if today was the day - and it seemed so because of how he really was on a roll - then so be it. He had not had any previous signs to you being interested in him as he was in you, sure, and for that he feared he probably was simply stupid and not brave but there was really no taking it back now and for the first time he didn't feel like it.

“I-” you started, blinking several times as you looked at him carefully an for a couple dreadful moments of silence when he nearly felt like caving in because of his panic, Dean held his breath, and listened as you spoke up again “Are you for real? I- I mean are you- Dean-” you huffed, your eyebrows pulling into a frown and your lips almost forming a pout that was the exact definition of distracting he was referring to “Seriously, this is not funny at all. If you wanna joke around here then-”

“Joke?” he breathed out before you could get to continue with your words, let alone thoughts “Why would I? No, no. I'm being absolutely honest here.” he shrugged so casually he might have patted himself on the shoulder for the achievement if you weren't there, and if he wasn't so distracted once more by seeing the way your eyes widened and you then blinked before looking down shyly.

And he continued “Sweetheart, I don't get to tell you often and shame on me for that but with Sammy all the time in the way I can't express myself so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it: You're so beautiful that everything you do is distracting to me, even just being in my presence. Sometimes you struggle with that, I get it, given the job we do. But don't let anyone tell you different, because all of it only makes you even more special. Thought-” he shrugged with an easy smile, looking back at his book as if it was nothing, as if he wasn't in a struggle with his very own self to just look at you at all time just to not miss a single reaction “You should probably know that. Not that you're not already aware but I suppose... since we're making small talk. And just so that I let you know, that there is nobody else I'd rather be stuck doing research with.”

Your lips fell apart and the soft sound of “Oh. Oh I- oh.” escaped past them before silence set in the room, one that he enjoyed a little too much as he looked up at you through his lashes only to see you shift and play nervously with your clothes or the pages of your book. You kept opening and closing your mouth before you ended up clearing your throat and straightened your back to look straight at him.

He did the same, meeting your eyes with the most straight face he could master “Yes? Something the matter?”

“No, I- I just- Well-” you cleared your throat again, shifting in your seat “Thank you for- for...”

“For?” he inquired and you shot him a half-hearted glare that melted so soon into the sweetest look he ad ever seen on your face.

“That. What you said. You know what you just said. I don't have to repeat it.” you said so fast, a small huff leaving your lips “A-and I appreciate it. So thank you for it.” your eyes fluttered down to your hands before you shifted in your place “But still-” you gave him a stern look as if to brush the whole topic off; it was the easiest thing when you didn't know how to respond and your whole face felt as if it was on fire “That ain't gonna cut down any research for you. You've gotta get through those books and you won't leave this place until you're done.”

“I wasn't looking for any special treatment.” he shrugged all innocent.

“Good.” you said stubbornly “Bause you ain't getting it. So quit the sweet-talking me and get back to work.”

“Fine, fine!” he raised his arms in surrender, looking down at the book but not stopping the mumbling, loud enough for you to hear “Since when did speaking the truth turn into sweet-talking, I had no idea.”

“Quit it, Winchester. Or else I'll throw this book at you and it will definitely not be a happy ending for you.” you tried to say seriously, putting on a stern face but only for the sake of seeming determined and unaffected; despite what your eyes told him at that moment.

“Fine, fine.” he sighed dramatically “Not that I'm stalling but you just should wear those jeans more oft-” he paused when you narrowed your eyes at him and he rolled his “Alright. They look great on you but I get it. No telling the truth today. Back to work.”

“You're unbelievable sometimes.” this time you scoffed a laugh, shaking your head and he didn't fight his own grin especially as you muttered “Idiot.” at him.

He hummed, this time not looking up at you as he whispered “I am.” and let the comfortable silence fill the room, calming the both of you as you went back to work. Dean even more so than you because - as far as he was concerned - he needed it more than anything.

Surprised and proud as he was at himself for getting all of that out, he still was a mess of emotions all of which refused to die down, and could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse so intense that he felt it to the end of his very own fingertips. And better not get started with the way he could feel a familiar heat spread all the way up his neck, to the tips of his ears and dangerously close to the rest of his face, making him wish that it was at least not obvious to anyone that would look, which really only meant you.

With his head still very much in the clouds, feeling high and dizzy on emotions if not somewhat filled with the aftermath of adrenaline from what could only be an almost-confession, he found himself only skipping through the words, barely paying any attention to them. His fingers played with the pages as he basked in the warmth and comfortable feeling of this newfound silence. It was like coming home after a long time and soaking in the comfortable and familiar warmth of one's bed.

As the words before his eyes blurred for what seemed like, at least, the tenth time in only a couple minutes, he decided that that was it. His mind was running with so many thoughts that he couldn't help it; he wanted to steal another look at you after this endless and at the same time too short silence. Chewing on his lower lip he slowly tore his eyes away from the text and took a good look at you, shameless about it as he should be, as he had every right to be and he wouldn't let anybody tell him otherwise. He was in love, goodness how crazy it was to even think about it, and by the looks of it – by some crazy chance even better – it seemed like there was hope for him that you might feel something for him too.

So why even try to hold back from taking it all in?

The grin on his face only got wider, much as he tried to hold it back, when he saw you pause. Your eyes clearly moved away from the page, deep in thought and with your chin resting on top of your palm. You could very easily hide it if you wanted to, but that didn't seem the case and so Dean could see fully the beautiful smile that graced your lips. Whether it was at something you had just read or because of something he'd previously said he didn't know and frankly it didn't matter. Because the moment he saw that smile his entire mind went blank, there was nothing that it could come up with... unlike his mouth, that is, which had plenty to say apparently.

Gosh how can that smile not turn even the worst tortures to the sweetest thing in the world? It's just so damn beautiful, that I know there's not a single thing I wouldn't do for it. Hell, the moment I saw it for the first time I knew I was a gonner, fell stupidly head over heels for you as anybody else would and the more I got to know you, the more I got to see that smile the more clear it was to me that those feelings were there to stay. And so they have. I knew I would do anything in my power to see it again but to go to such extents? “Hell, sweetheart, I'd climb over freakin' mountains just for that smile and I ain't just getting poetic, you know I never could. There are always different kinds to it that I don't know how you do it but this- this right here is my favorite. It's so free and so true and so damn adorable and you almost try to hide it sometimes and shit that makes me angry at who could have ever made you believe it is not gorgeous enough to show but also so damn stubborn too, to take it upon myself to make you smile like that every freakin' day of your life. I won't get shit done, I know, because it's just so distracting but heavens-” he breathed out, not clear where the air even came from after all the rambling “That smile is worth all of the stars, sweetheart.”

A heavy albeit not uncomfortable, by any means, silence hangs in the room once more after Dean's done with his rambling. He didn't even realize it as the word poured out of his lips, heavens out of his very own heart and soul is better, right there for you to hear, just as he didn't realize the second you stopped looking at the book. Your eyes were currently on him, wide and beautiful as always, blinking in surprise even after you thought that there was nothing that Dean could do that could surprise you more today.

But as the realization downed on Dean, it didn't leave a pleasant shock but rather a chilling one; the same one would get after an ice bucket being dumped on them. Not that he was willing to let you know that, so instead he gave you an awkward smile and asked “...Did I just say that out loud?”

He did, after all, hope that by some high power you hadn't heard a thing and that it was all still words in his head and not a confession – although very much needed – probably poorly-timed.

“I-” your lips parted as you blinked several times in disbelief “Y-yes-” your voice cracked a little “Yes you actually did.”

“O-oh o-ok c-cool.” but not as much as his did, before he cleared his throat “Cool. That's uh terrific... Embarrass myself more than I have in my entire life in the span of half an hour. Way to go Dean.” he mumbled the last part to himself as he looked away from you and down at his book with wide eyes.

“I mean I-” you chewed on your lower lip before you straightened your back a bit more and look at him with a bit more confidence “I would have interrupted you but for one I wanted to hear all of it, seeing how adorable you were being it was a sight for sore eyes, and for another there is a date rule I must keep up with so-” you shrugged but it was anything but innocent with the smile you were sporting.

Not that any of it mattered, because one thing registered above all “Dating? What dating? And what kind of rules?”

“Sadly we don't have a dictionary here but I'm sure you can guess, pretty boy. And as for rules well it goes like: kiss on the first date, everything else after the third date.” you rested your chin on your palm again and looked him in the eyes “Wouldn't wanna break that one, no matter how tempted I was to shut you up with a kiss, you bloody idiot.”

“...You're kidding me right now, right?” his eyes were wide and he only managed to get the words out after a good few seconds of silence. Minutes probably.

“Alright, yes, maybe we do need that dictionary. Listen, I'm gonna put it as simple as possible and pray that that wonderfully smart yet so very stupid brain of yours gets it: You take me out on a date and you can get to be as distracted as you wanted by my smile. Stare at it, kiss it away only to kiss it back up on my lips. Anything you want. Because I've been waiting for too freaking long for you to say these things and I'm done beating around the bush. I am coming clean. I have feelings for you too, Dean.”

Again silence before “...As in for real?”

“Couldn't get any more real. Always had them.” you smiled, this time actually shyly at him.

Pause, a long pause actually, and he blinked rapidly before asking “This is really not you trying to, I don't know, let me down easily or something?”

“Absolutely not, why would I? I meant everything I say.”

“So that means-” he actually held his breath, feeling his head beat so hard it would almost break out of his chest “Are we... you know?”

Your smile turned into a more teasing one, almost a smirk as you shrugged “Only after the first date.”

“So if I did happen to ask you out now, you would...?” he had to be sure this wasn't some kind of dream.

“Say it would be my pleasure.” you nodded your head.

“And- one more question, just-” he raised a finger, taking a calming breath in even if it was a bit shaky “...So long as there's say beer and maybe burgers that's...?”

“The perfect kind of date for me, you know i-”

“Awesome!” his eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat with a grin on his face.

“But not while doing research!” you said fast enough before he could get much further away “No beer and burgers while researching is not a date.”

“Not even a little?” he asked and you shook your head “...Then can research itself maybe be?”

“Absolutely not.” you said despite the pout he was giving you. It did make things harder.

“...But what if I maybe, really wanna get a kiss right now? What do I have to do to get that kiss?”

“Guess what?” you grinned and you could see the hope in his eyes before you made it vanish into thin air “Research!”

“More books, yay!” he said with a huff, his arms falling by his side as he made his way back to his seat “Of course it's books.” he groaned and you couldn't help your grin “But really... nothing else? I know your smile makes it all worth it but honey... this is the worst kind of torture!”

“Alright you big child come here. Can't believe you're making me break my rules.” you sighed with a shake of your head “Just one, for getting this far with research, as a reward.”

“Oh you know I love rewards.” he grinned “How about one about every book I read? And if it ends up otherwise, oh well, Sammy can handle the case alone right?”

“Don't push your luck, Winchester.”

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers (February 22nd, 2021)

Hello! Here’s another collection of anon ask answers all put together in one big post.

This might be strange considering how upbeat yall are about the fandoms for your games in general, but is there any particular trope or ship you WOULDN'T want us writing/drawing/etc. in relation to your stuff? (IE, any canon you don't want us 'overwriting' or something like that?)

Of course we would want the fan content people make to not be racist, sexist, homophobic, bigoted, harmful, etc. But in terms of generally doing non-canon pairings or adding in headcanons or stuff, we really don’t mind that. People are welcome to have fun and explore their own ideas.

for the 1.2 Android update was it meant to download as a  separate app? I really want to keep my previous save files but they don't show up (also thank u for the updates I'm really excited to get back into the game!!)

We had to change the name of the file and unfortunately for some phones that meant it’s treated as a brand new game. I’m sorry your saves didn’t transfer over to the new version. You can try to look up your specific phone and see if there’s a way to access save files for games on your device and then transfer those saves over to the new build manually. It may or may not be possible.

I'm having some trouble figuring out how to get the update from Itichio without losing my save files? Is it the same game or a folder I can put in the properties? Sorry if this question is not worded well or if this isn't the avenue you'd want to take technical questions on

Are you using Android? If so, the above answer may apply to you. If you’re on PC or Mac, the save files will automatically still be included.

Hey. I really loved playing our life. It was a fun experience and I never thought I would like it this much. I do have a question, I am currently replaying the game and I am choosing choices I never chose at first. In step 2 during the road trip arc, I decided to ask Cove about what he liked to see on people. One of his response was anklets and black eyes. My MC have just happens to have black eyes. Do Cove say black eyes cuz my mc have it or it was just a coincidently programmed into the game?

He uses your eye color intentionally! If you changed your eye color he’d change what he said.

Will step 4 have 10 moments like steps 1-3? 

Step 4 is only an epilogue. It plays like the openings/endings of the earlier Steps where it’s a bunch of scenes all in a row, there aren’t any individual Moments.

hi! who was/were the artist(s) for our life? 

&

who is the artist for Our Life: Beginning and Always?

Main Sprite and CG Artist: Addrossi

Main Background Artist: Vui Huynh

Main Interface Artist: Winter Slice

Other artists who helped out can be seen in the credits of the game.

In the new ol, there are two main love interests... Would it be possible to pair them together or is that weird? 

You can’t stay single and pair them together. If we are going to add all the extra content to have a route where the two LIs get together, it’d be a full poly route where them and the MC were all dating. And that’s not a for sure option yet because it’d add a lot of extra complications. But either way, in OL the relationships all gotta be about the MC, haha.

In OL2, there will be extra LIs in form of DLCs? Like Dexter and Baxter. 

Maybe! We’ll see how it goes.

Since Cove will have 2 diff body types in s4, will the storyline and dialogs reflect this? Or all of it will be the same? Btw love the game and sorry for bad english. Hope this doesn't sound rude 😅 

Some descriptions and pieces of dialog will change, but it won’t impact the story really. And you don’t need to apologize! It’s all good.

Will you ever release the transparent sprites of the Our Life characters? 

Probably not, I’m afraid. They’ve got a lot of pieces and it’d just be kind of hard to deal with, aha.

Something I was curious about, what was your inspiration for making a game with so much customization?

Initially, the idea was just about having a romance where you actually grew up with the LI. But it was pretty stressful to try deciding how fast the relationship would progress with it taking place over such a long period of time and with no real storyline carrying it. People might not wanna play a game where the characters don’t get along as kids, but other people might not bother with a game where kids immediately liked each other. So the obvious answer came, just let the player pick themselves how it goes. From there we simply continued to add more flexibly with the MC due to the same thought process of wanting to make sure people were onboard with how their life was going.

What made you decide to change the artstyle for ol 2 so much? I of course respect all your decisions and will buy the shit out of everything related to ol 2, but i love the original style and i m honestly not a fan of the styles shown on patreon, despite me liking the painterly style in general. (I don t mind the style being changed, just that the examples shown so far all feel like there s something wrong with them.) 

We’ve always used different art styles for each of our projects. They all have distinct looks from each other. It’s just nice to do something new. I’m glad you really like how the first game looks, though. And those samples were only general concepts, rather than the exact options being decided between. We wanted to see reactions to different options. The art style we’re going with won’t be exactly like those, though I personally like all of them. I think players are gonna enjoy the style Our Life: Now & Forever when it’s revealed.

Hey! Is it ok to ask what gender ourlife2 protagonist will be and if we'll be given the same opportunity to customize an MC? Totally understand if you're keeping this under wraps for now if u don't wanna say! 

OL2 will have the same type of MC customization as OL1, but even more refined! So their gender will be up to you.

Hi! I happened upon Our Life on Steam by pure chance. It is such a great game, I am super excited about the DLC, and I just want you all to know that you are awesome! :D I have a question, and I'm sorry if it's been asked before. Do you have plans of making more games similar to Our Life, with customizable player character? The customizable player character was probably the one thing I personally have been desperate for in romance VNs. So glad there finally is one and would love to see more.

Thank you! And yep, we do have plans for more games like Our Life, most notably is another game in the franchise- Our Life: Now & Forever. We’ll also likely have other, non-OL, games with customizable MCs, though we may still have some games with set MCs in the future as well.

On the patreon dlc just curious but is it possible to play it without actually sleeping together/getting the nsfw content? I just want to spend more time with Cove 

Yeah, you can still choose not to go that far. Though the event is shorter if you pass on the 18+ stuff.

At the beginning of Step 2, did Cove end up accidentally falling asleep in your bed? Or did he fall asleep on the floor? 

He fell asleep sitting on the floor with his body/head leaning against the side of the bed.

This may seem like a weird question, but what exactly is the difference between "direct" and "relaxed" on the comfort scale?

Direct is blunter and more teasing, relaxed is lighthearted and goes with the flow.

can the MC have tattoos in step 3? 

Not in Step 3, but you can in Step 4.

how would Cove react if he visited somewhere like North Carolina in winter where it can get in the 20s(F) at night sometimes? 

He would be shocked and unprepared for what serious coldness is really like, haha. The poor beach baby would wanna go home.

Hello! I just joined the PATREON!! It’s amazing! I love your games! I have a question, approximately how much after will the nsfw be out? After or before the dlc 3 and step four? Sorry my English isn’t the best!❤️❤️❤️ 

Thanks so much! The NSFW DLC will be out after the Step 3 DLC but before Step 4. And you don’t need to apologize for that ^^.

This might be obvious but, will step 4 have dlcs? Also, where will the nsfw dlc happen? Won't bother me at all if it s in in our or his house but i do think it d be moderately funny 

Step 4 will have the Cove Wedding DLC and the Derek and Baxter romance DLCs each add a lot of new content to Step 4, though they’re also partially set in Step 2 and Step 3 respectively. The NSFW DLC happens in Cove’s room.

I keep wondering what would've happened if Mr. Holden met Lizzie first instead of the MC. I can't see that turning out well somehow lol. 

It wouldn’t have made a difference. He met the MC’s parents first and they told him about their two kids. He wanted the MC specifically to be Cove’s friend because the two were the same age.

Even though we have a way to go I'm really excited for OL 2! I was curious though, is the next main character going to be adopted again? I thought it was really clever to make the first main character adopted so when players are customizing,  they can make them look how ever they like without worrying about pesky genetics. Just wondering! 

The OL2 MC is not adopted. We wanted to go for a new dynamic. Instead their parents are their biological single mother who is partially customizable and an off-screen sperm donor father. So the mom will look generally like the MC and any other traits not from her can be assumed to come from whoever the father was.

—– —– —–

Thank you so much for all the asks ^^

FAQ   If you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[thisdancingheart]

Remember YFIP?

My Year of Grief and Cancellation

What was I trying to accomplish with my anonymous Tumblr?

By Liat Kaplan Feb. 25, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ET https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/25/style/your-fave-is-problematic-tumblr.html

If you were on Tumblr in the early 2010s, you may remember a blog called Your Fave Is Problematic. If not, its content should still sound familiar to you. The posts contained long lists of celebrities’ regrettable (racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, ethnophobic, ableist and so on) statements and actions — the stuff that gets people canceled these days.

That blog was my blog. I spent hours researching each post; as you can probably imagine, my search history was pretty ugly.

Your Fave Is Problematic had around 50,000 followers at its peak, in 2014, when I was a high school senior, but its influence was outsized. I got in a feud with a prominent young adult fiction author over his inclusion. One actor submitted himself, perhaps as a dare (or a plea) to dig up his worst. “Problematic fave” became a well-worn meme; even after I stopped posting, my blog was cited in books, articles, podcasts and think pieces. Through it all, my identity stayed private.

The blog started, as so many anonymous online projects do, as vengeful public shaming masquerading as social criticism. I was fine-tuning my moral compass and coming into my own as a feminist. So when I noticed classmates making sexist jokes on Facebook, including some about me, I started taking screenshots to post on a Tumblr called Calling Out Sexists. My policy was that I would take down a post only if its author publicly apologized.

A group of students brought the blog to the attention of our school’s administrators, who threatened to take legal action if I continued to write about them. Meanwhile, other Tumblr users had begun submitting screenshots featuring statements from minor celebrities. With graduation hanging in the balance, I shifted my focus away from my peers and toward public figures. I rebranded. Money and fame had protected them since time immemorial. What harm could my little blog do?

So I posted photos of Lady Gaga in V magazine with her skin bronzed to an unnatural brown. I pulled out troubling quotes from an essay Lena Dunham had written about a trip to Japan. I noted Taylor Swift’s since-changed homophobic lyric in “Picture to Burn.” My most popular posts tended to be about women — which makes sense, because the celebrity press tends to be more critical of them.

As it turned out, I had bigger things to worry about than dissecting the careers of celebrities I’d never met. On a winter morning, I woke up to the news that my older sister, Tamar, who was studying in Bolivia, had been in a bus crash, and the outlook was not good. I pored over research to escape from what felt like an impossible situation: my sister slowly dying of treatable injuries in a rural area thousands of miles away.

We held a public memorial service for Tamar in our hometown. Some of my classmates showed up, including a few who had written nasty things about me online. I found their shows of kindness insulting now, during what was quickly becoming the worst year of my life.

I tried going back to school after a few weeks, but I found myself picking frequent arguments with classmates and teachers. The school made an arrangement with my parents: I would be placed on “medical leave” for the remainder of the semester. I would graduate on time, but I wouldn’t return to campus.

Stuck at home, I devoted myself to Tumblr. What was I trying to accomplish? Mostly, I was interested in knocking people off their pedestals. I also enjoyed being popular, controversial, discussed. When a comedian I had posted about name-checked my blog on Twitter, I was giddy.

Then I started receiving threats. Someone sent me a screenshot of a house from Google Maps, claiming to have found my IP address. It wasn’t my house, but still. I realized that for every person on Tumblr who looked up to my blog, there were many more, online and offline, who hated it — and me. I started posting less and, eventually, stopped posting at all.

In the years since, I’ve looked back on my blog with shame and regret — about my pettiness, my motivating rage, my hard-and-fast assumptions that people were either good or bad. Who was I to lump together known misogynists with people who got tattoos in languages they didn’t speak? I just wanted to see someone face consequences; no one who’d hurt me ever had.

There’s something almost quaint about it all now: teenage me, teaching myself about social justice on Tumblr while also posturing as an authority on that very subject, thinking I was making a difference while engaging in a bit of schadenfreude. Meanwhile, other movements — local, global, unified in their purposes and rooted in progressive philosophies — were organizing for actual justice. Looking back, I was more of a cop than a social justice warrior, as people on Tumblr had come to think of me.

These days, there’s no shortage of online accountability efforts, the large part of them anonymously run. Some accounts post typically anodyne but occasionally explosive celebrity gossip. Others are explicitly aimed at naming, shaming and punishing people for all kinds of actions and missteps. My own work fell somewhere in the middle, I think; the information I posted was out in the open, but I was cataloging it to make a case against the veneration of the rich and famous.

As many have noted, the coronavirus pandemic has pronounced the distance between celebrities and the rest of us. And their actions have been subject to greater scrutiny — the vacations they’ve gone on, the parties they’ve held, the access they’ve had to testing and care during a health crisis that has taken millions of lives.

But celebrity culture began to crumble long before Covid-19. Mounting accusations of many kinds, whispered between industry professionals, had become too loud to ignore. Social media, which gave celebrities more control over their images and influence over their fans, also opened them up to new kinds of criticism. People have lost jobs and entire careers because of the kinds of errors my blog cited. Others have apologized for work and behavior that, re-examined in a contemporary context, just doesn’t hold up.

For years, I’ve regretted the spotlight I put on other people’s mistakes, as if one day I wouldn’t make plenty of my own. There can be an unsparing purity to growing into one’s social conscience that is often overbroad.

My brain wasn’t ready for nuance. I was angered by hypocrisy and cruelty; what I did about it was apply a level of scrutiny that left no room for error. I’m not saying that I should be canceled for my teenage blog. (Please don't!) I just know what we all should know by now: that no one who has lived publicly, online or off, has a spotless record.

For these reasons, I’ve thought about deleting my Tumblr. But doing that would mean erasing my own errors of judgment. I almost feel like I need to leave it up to punish myself for having made it in the first place. That, and I know someone could (and probably would) just pull it up on Wayback Machine. The internet, after all, never forgets.

~~~~~~~

[wallwriterstuff]

A Little Trouble || Alec Volturi x Reader||

A request for: @tiger-khans-blog

Words: 4225

Warnings: None!

Summary: Alec’s mate is...not what he expected. Between hair dye, brownie mix and kitchen fires they’ve started their very own reign of terror in Volterra, but Alec’s learned that sometimes a little trouble can be a good thing...

When Aro had first seen Sulpicia, she had been selling seaglass on the shore of Greece, the sunlight reflecting off of dark streaks of hair and dark eyes so enthralling he’d been ensnared ever since. He’d brought almost a whole bag of the pretty, frosted glass and spent hours crafting the pieces into a beautiful necklace Sulpicia had done everything in her power to preserve until the centuries just made it to fragile to keep wearing. She had been smitten the moment she met the man willing to craft her a courting gift that looked every inch as precious as the pearls the wealthier women in town wore.

When Caius had first met Athenodora, she had been fire and brimstone in the shape of a woman towering over those who would oppress her. He had been immediately enraptured by the feisty blonde tearing off the arm of a man who had clearly wronged her in some way, the dark crimson of her eyes drawing him in and not letting go. She had easily taken care of the two Romanian lapdogs tracking him to, and as he watched her pale face shine in the flames Caius had known in that moment there would never be another woman for him. They were both such romantic stories and Alec had been inducted into this life hearing them, seeing the way Chelsea and Afton had fallen head over heels almost instantly and Marcus had fallen into despair with Didyme’s death. He knew the importance of the mate bond, knew it was something to be treasured, that his mate should be protected and loved by him at all times no matter the cost.

Imagine his surprise when the first time he met you, you swore at him for being in your way.

Modern women were nothing like the women he had been surrounded by growing up, or even the women in the guard. The old-world ideals of the demure and chaste woman were something the world had outgrown and here you were now, causing trouble wherever you went, the consequences be damned. If it wasn’t your mouth getting you in trouble it was your actions. He still shuddered when he recalled the first time he had presented you to the Masters. He couldn’t just leave you where he’d found you after all; you were his mate and so many things happened to vulnerable humans – and that was without the added complication that you were the mate of a witch twin. You had fought hard despite your obvious disadvantage until Alec had stripped your senses and taken you from your home city.

Aro had insisted on reading your thoughts, intrigued as to who could be compatible with his most powerful Guard. His stare had been intense and his skin ice-cold and, well, these people had just kidnapped you after all so nobody should have really been surprised when you tried to shove him away from you.

“What the hell is wrong with you all! You think you can just kidnap me and do whatever you want with me? You can take your huge ass forehead and shove it man, stop trying to touch me, Dome of Creepiness!”

Caius’s indignation had him pushing to his feet so fast his hair had swung about his shoulders as he spoke down to you, while Marcus only watched with the faintest wisp of a smile on his face.

“Insolent human! You are beneath-“

“I ain’t beneath nobody King Blondie Sparkles! You look like you’re in a damn Loreal commercial or something and you? Don’t even start me on the gloomy dude! This is some kangaroo court stuff right here!” You’d cried out. Felix and Demetri had been very obviously amused by you but Alec had just about died all over again, the embarrassment and astonishment too much for him. The whole room had been stunned into silence until Jane dropped you for your insubordination. His embarrassment had dissolved to sheer horror in moments and for the first time in his life he’d actually snarled at his sister. You’d been a handful when he met you and you’d continued to be one ever since. He could vividly recall your first month with them, where’d you’d endlessly pranked and shouted at them in an effort to be so annoying they’d simply let you go.

Jane had been your first victim, since she had naturally been predisposed to disliking you given your association with her twin. Every little thing you did irked her so it was really no surprise that the simplest of things had been what set her off on your second week in the castle. Anywhere that the Masters and the Guard were not was a refuge for you, and it just so happened that more often than not, the gardens were your chosen spot. Jane had taken to tending a small corner of the garden decades before you’d ever arrived and it was coming to the time of year where she stripped out and replanted it, but that was her job, not yours. Finding you knee deep in mud, her soil strewn everywhere and the bulbs that flowered every year scattered along the path while you tried your best to bury Felix’s journal had set her on a warpath she’d been on for months after the incident. Alec had barely saved you from her and had only ended up covering himself in dirt in the process.

Demetri’s hair had been the first real casualty, in Alec’s opinion. He’d been out for the day looking for trouble of his own, spending his down time how he pleased, and as was his tradition he took a nice, long hot shower when he got home. He had had no idea you replaced his leave in conditioner with bleach and to say he was furious to find the natural colour of his hair gone and the strands drying and brittle was an understatement. He’d screamed so loud the Guard had come running thinking he was in danger, only to find him holding a handful of his own, unnaturally blonde hair in hand and wearing absolutely nothing to cover his modesty. He had worn a hood for three weeks before the venom managed to leach the bleach out and return his hair to its natural luster and volume. It took him three months to consider accepting your apology.

Then you’d set the kitchen on fire.

It had genuinely been an accident on this one occasion, and Felix had been keeping an eye on you so was able to prove it. You had really just been trying to cook yourself some lunch, your usual mischievous mood dampened by three months of captivity in the castle and absolutely no progress in earning your freedom. When the sleeve of your shirt had caught fire on the hob it was perfectly understandable you had panicked…it was just unfortunate that your panic had carried you straight into the tablecloth, oven mits and tea towels, setting small fires everywhere that didn’t mix all that well with the natural wooden countertops. Aro was furious he had had to call the fire brigade and have so many humans in their home. It had drawn more attention to the Castle than there had been in almost two centuries.

“Your irresponsibility could have cost lives far more valuable than your own. Do you understand how reckless you have been? This petulant sulking will no longer be tolerated and you will-“

“Whatever.” You had muttered. Aro’s mouth had snapped closed, Caius’s eyes bugging.

“I beg your pardon?” his voice was soft, unthreatening. Alec knew that meant trouble. You kept your head bowed, your fists clenched at your sides, and he caught the slightest twinge of salt in the air. The truth was, Alec had been keeping an eye on you from a distance, waiting to see if you calmed. You had been given an extended period to see if your wilder tendencies could be calmed before you were changed – no one wanted to deal with a wild newborn after all. Instead, he’d watch your flame flicker and dim, your cheeky spark dying slowly as the darkness of Volterra enveloped it. He hated it. You were supposed to be loud and mischievous, a hurricane in human form; he wondered how he had ever handled the quiet before you came into his life because he couldn’t stand it now it had returned. Your energy was just drained from you and Alec didn’t want this, not for you, not when you were clearly miserable.

“Master. It was an accident.” Felix’s voice had surprised him, but the giant had stepped forward calmly to give him his hand and show him everything that had led up to the dreadful accident. Aro was quiet for a moment, his expression changing drastically.

“Are you alright, my dear?” he asked finally. Your glare had been venomous when you looked up at him then but Alec had decided enough was enough. In many ways he still looked back on that as a defining moment in your relationship, because Alec had done exactly what mates were supposed to do in that moment and stepped in to protect you. His concern had put the Masters off of punishing you as he ushered you from the room and into his. He’d ran you a bath so you could clean the soot from your body, and whilst you languished in his tub he had sat leaning back against the closed door, asking you the first things that came to mind. By the end of the night, as you lay fast asleep on his sofa, he knew all of your favourite things and all your worst fears, but more importantly he knew how to talk to you. It was easier after that, to engage you in conversations that didn’t end in a screaming match, and it had taken him a little under a month to fall completely in love with everything you were.

What you were was a complete menace, of course.

Felix had become your partner in crime and your pranks continued to extend across the castle, your cheeky spark returning once Alec had professed how much he missed it. In the span of three weeks Caius’s hair had turned neon green, the Guard’s robes became tie-dyed with shapes cut out of them, Marcus had had his hair braided quite nicely but Aro’s hair had had multi-coloured streaks woven into it and he’d been forced to wear it that way for a trial…Alec had no idea how you and Felix managed any of this but it had become very clear that you weren’t going to change your ways, much to the Master’s chagrin.

“Why exactly are we doing this?” Demetri sounded exasperated and Alec shot him an annoyed look.

“Y/N has never been given flowers, but Heidi insisted that humans liked receiving flowers and I would like to make it clear that my intentions towards Y/N are romantic.” Alec repeated for the umpteenth time. Demetri sighed quietly and Alec diligently ignored whatever it was he muttered under his breath while they observed the flowers at the stall in the square. There were blooms of every colour, size and shape, with equally as pretty ribbons and papers to wrap them in. It was almost too much choice almost. He knew your favourite colour of course, but he’d never asked about your favourite flowers because you just hadn’t seemed like a flower’s kind of person.

“How about a mixture of these?” Demetri suggested, his fingertips ever so gently lifting the stems of flowers from the tubs of water keeping them fresh as he picked out his samples. Alec tilted his head, quietly watching him work for a moment until he had two large headed blooms and some smaller sprigs of blossoms.  

“The small ones look out of place with the bigger flowers.” He frowned. Demetri shook his head.

“Not when arranged in a full bouquet. Besides, the meaning is impressive. These are salvia and the red ones in particular mean forever mine. This yellow one is hibiscus, it symbolizes delicate beauty, and these purple ones are morning glory’s, representing affection. Placed in a whole bouquet you are promising your delicate beauty your affections forever.” He concluded. Alec stared at him in shock.

“You speak the language of flowers?” he questioned. Demetri’s eyes rolled as he handed his stems to the stall owner with a few quick instructions in Italian.

“My lovers do not line up at my door purely for the scintillating conversation, Alec.” His tone told Alec he needed to drop that particular conversation, and since the tracker was doing him a favour Alec let it slide this time. Wrapped in some pretty polka dot paper with a white satin bow wrapped around the stems, he held his bouquet with a small smile, please with how it turned out. He couldn’t wait to give it you, see your face when you realised someone had decided to do something nice for you. It was his first real romantic gesture towards you and he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.

“Do you think we should have gotten the card?” he fretted. Demetri raised an eyebrow.

“Why go to all of this effort Alec?” he fired back, brows furrowed, “They’ve done nothing but cause trouble since they arrived. How could you possibly find it in yourself to expend the effort to reach out to someone so….so…”

“Demetri. I dare you to finish that sentence,” Alec said coldly, his eyes focused on the tracker in a steely glare. Demetri didn’t cower at much, but the witch twins were enough to make even the strongest men fall to their knees in fright. “Just tell me where my mate is.” Demetri was quiet for a moment as he put his gift to full use, and then he twisted and began to walk away, leaving Alec to follow him silence. Alec understood why so many of them had turned away from his mate, you had hardly made life easy for any of them after all with all your mischief, but Alec saw the reason you behaved as you did where nobody else took the time to. Your most harmless pranks (like dropping a water balloon full of hair gel on Caius who was stuck trying to get his hair to go flat for four days straight) were done for fun, a product of your immaturity and youth, but the big ones were usually reactions to things. You had done your very best to piss them off simply because you were scared of the monumental change you were having to adjust to, not to hurt anyone. You didn’t have a malicious bone in your body, he was sure.

His nose twitched as Demetri led him in the directions of the kitchen, something bitterly sweet invading his senses. What was that? He couldn’t place the scent at all though he did pick up on the lingering smell of gas, indicating the oven was on. Was his mate cooking perhaps? But what was she cooking that was so bitter?

“Ah!” the short, sharp yell had Alec moving at lightning speed towards the kitchen door. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that bang was, what sort of trouble you were getting into now, but come hell or high water Alec was going to save you from whatever hair-brained scheme you –

“Ghost!” Demetri screamed, his pitch so high Alec cringed slightly. It was enough to make him panic, as his eyes raked over the figure before them, a mixture of denim and dark brown that was bordering on black, the white of its eyes screaming at him through the dark sludge. For the briefest moment, Demetri’s own panic had skewed Alec’s perception enough that he didn’t see anything for what it really was. No, no Alec saw the brown sludge as burnt flesh, thick and solidifying and sliding slowly off of the bones of the creature before him. He saw exactly what he should have become all those years ago. A tortured, melted creature. It was enough to make even the fierce witch twin scream, and the flowers Demetri had helped him pick so carefully went flying upward out of his hands so he could use them at a moments notice.

It wasn’t until Jane shook his arm that he snapped out of it somewhat.

“Alec what is wrong with you!”

“Jane! I saw – it’s a – a – what?” he stammered.

“It’s a ghost Jane, tell me you do not see it!” Demetri snapped. Jane groaned, her expression exasperated as her arms folded.

“It’s not a ghost you fools! It’s Y/N,” she huffed, turning her cold gaze to his mate next, “And they’ve made a complete mess.” You had the decency to look embarrassed at least. Alec took another look at the ‘ghost’, sighing slightly as he realised his sister was right. The brown sludge was not burnt flesh after all, more…more…some sort of chocolate mix perhaps? Your lower lip came out in a pout and you looked so unbearably sad Alec couldn’t help but come closer to you, tempted to hug you but also not wanting to get your mess on his clothes.

“Y/N? What on earth happened to you?” he questioned. You whined pitifully at him.

“Jane taught me to make brownies with this recipe she knows and so I tried to do them myself, but the oven is too high up and I lost my grip on the tray and now I have a sore head and no brownies.” You had never looked more upset than you did in that moment and Alec blinked in surprise because…since when did his sister spend time with you? Jane huffed quietly behind him as he sighed and gently wiped some chocolate from her chin before it could drip to the floor.

“Oh dear. How about you get yourself cleaned up and I will clean up in here?” he suggested. You lowered your head.

“I didn’t mean it this time Alec, I swear, I just wanted brownies. I didn’t mean to scare your or Demetri.” Your voice was so small, it shattered his heart. You may have been a troublemaker at heart but you were also a bit of a guilty soul, and he knew you felt genuinely bad when you truly upset someone. You’d been trying to subtly make it up to Demetri for months now but the tracker was having none of it.

“I know sweet thing. All is forgiven.” He promised. He watched you trudge from the kitchen, leaving a trail of brownie mix behind you. Demetri was nowhere to be seen though Jane remained standing near the doorway, staring apathetically at the mess on the floor.

“It isn’t your mess to clean.” She pointed out.

“Nor is it a mess she made deliberately. Chocolate will be much harder to get out clothes than a wooden floor; though, as the recipes creator surely you’d know?” the subtle invitation to tell him and the smirk on his face was enough to make Jane scowl at him.

“Maybe Y/N isn’t so bad…but she cannot bake.” She sniffed, turning on her heel to leave the mess to him. Alec chuckled slightly as she left, pleased in the knowledge his sister was clearly trying to get along with his mate now. She had sworn off of you beforehand, so this was an improvement. It didn’t take him long to run a bucket of hot water, scooping up the large globs of chocolate mix before mopping the floor. He’d definitely have to change his shirt today but he had done it in half the time it would have taken you to clean up, and by the time he wondered to your room to find you you hadn’t even left the shower yet. To his surprise, when he poked his head around the door, his nose caught the smell of fresh flowers, because sitting proudly on your desk was the bouquet he and Demetri had bought for you. His brow furrowed, he didn’t remember giving you those, in fact they’d completely skipped his mind.

He decided to read whilst you showered, determined to speak to you after you were done and confess his feelings for you, but he got so absorbed in the pages it wasn’t until his door creaked that he realised you were clean and dry once more. In fact, almost immediately after his door creaked the sound of your feet thudding against the floorboards hit his ears, and Alec’s hands quickly dropped the book in favour of catching you as you all but dived over the arm of the sofa with a grin to reach him. With his strength he easily held you about a foot up from his lap, slowly lowering you down with raised eyebrows.

“Still trying to fly?” he guessed. You nodded.

“You betcha! One day I’ll manage it, you’ll see. If I have to have a gift it’ll be the coolest one, I’ll be the worlds first flying vampire.” You boasted with a smirk that told Alec you knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, if ever, as you sat up on your knees beside him. It was yet another thing Alec loved about you, just how refreshing your perspective on life was. You never took anything too seriously whereas his life had been focused around first, surviving, and second, gaining the reputation that ensured nobody dared mess with him or his sister again. He had had little time for games and tricks and fun but you…you were young and free, living the life he had missed out on, a life he could live vicariously through you.

“You know one day you will fall face first.” He said with a chuckle. You shook your head.

“No I won’t, you’ll always be there to catch me.” You sounded so confident and Alec couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Oh, will I?” he teased. You nodded your head.

“Yeah you will, because red salvia means forever mine, right?” your eyes were a little guarded still, a light pink coating your cheeks. Alec’s brow furrowed, his back straightening.

“You know what the flowers mean?” he asked. Your blush darkened, head slowly nodding.

“Demetri speaks flower…actually, Google Maps said quite a few things, actually.” You admitted. Alec felt his stomach curl tight, the anxiety settling in his gut like a ball and making him feel as close to nauseous as a vampire could get. He turned his body to face you, studying your expression carefully. You didn’t seem like you were setting him up for any bad news at least, your expression wasn’t twisted, you just looked…shy. It was a new and rather bizarre look on you since his loud and cheeky little mouthed mate was never shy. Demetri hadn’t been too harsh then.

“Such as?” he prompted. You took a breath, fingers twisting in your lap.

“Such as he’s never heard me apologise and mean it before apparently – which is a lie but we moved past that – and…and you don’t want to give up on me, because you think I’m okay as I am.” You murmured, not quite able to meet his gaze now. Alec felt his stomach flutter, those proverbial butterflies kicking up a storm as he reached for your hand.

“I think you’re more than okay.” He said softly. Your hand twitched as his fingers brushed your own, but you didn’t pull away and instead let him intertwine your hands with a small smile.

“Even if I’m loud? And annoying? And immature? And-“ You were cut off by Alec’s finger against your lips, his eyes rolling.

“Demetri’s personal opinion of you is something I could care less about. I like the noise and the pranks and when you are unapologetically yourself, Y/N. Maybe you do get yourself into a lot of trouble from time to time but you’re having fun with your life, you are living as you wish, you live freely and that is something I envy.” He admitted. Your eyes widened slightly.

“You envy me? But…you’re so powerful!” you exclaimed. His eyes rolled.

“Power isn’t everything Y/N.I know your life changed in ways you didn’t expect, that you weren’t really happy with it either, and I can never really make up for just taking you away from your home like that but I would like to try.” Alec squeezed your hand lightly, his eyes pleading for that one little chance he knew he didn’t deserve but so desperately wanted. You bit your lip, clearly thinking through your options. You hadn’t really been made to feel welcome during your stay, but if one person had consistently treated you like another human being instead of an out of control child it was Alec. It helped he was pretty handsome to, and for whatever reason, he liked everything about you that put others off.

“How?” you asked finally, head tilting. Alec smiled slightly.

“Humans go on dates when they meet their mates, don’t they? Perhaps we can start with that. I’ll take you to this bakery not far from the square and get you all the brownies you desire.” He proposed. You couldn’t quite fight the smile breaking out on your face.

“Deal.”

Alec came to the startling conclusion that sometimes, a little trouble is a good thing.

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Chapter 7: Her Favorite Color

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW (I told you I’d get to it soon lol)

“For the last time… I.DON’T. KNOW!!!”

It was another chaotic morning in the House of Lamentation. It was hard for Lucifer to believe that his home could become any more turbulent and disordered than it had been for the centuries that he and his younger brothers arrived in the Devildom. The arrival of the nephilim proved otherwise.

He sat at his seat in the dining room with his eyes closed, cup of coffee in hand; his posed as regal and reserved as usual, giving a false sense of calm. Lilly sat at his left, stealing a glance at him to see if he was going to do anything about the riot in progress in the attic.

The other residents looked up at the swinging chandelier, flinched at the occasional slamming of objects, and the slur of unbecoming language being exchanged between the eldest and youngest nephilim.

“I have a notion as to why their kind was expelled out of the Celestial Kingdom…” Satan said aloud as he took a bite of toast.”

Mammon scratched his head and looked at Asmodeus, “And why exactly are they try’n to kill each other this morning?”

“Oh!” The lustful demon chuckled, “It’s quite simple really. They are arguing over the color pallet of the room.”

“You’re tell’n me they are screaming over paint colors all mornin, wake’n me up so damn early!?” Mammon gritted his teeth.

“It’s kind of a big deal though…” Asmo explained, “The colors of your wall not only set the mood for the room, but also dictate the color of everything else in the room: curtains, comforters, accent pillows, rugs, the furniture itself...and then you have to consider the theme! Are you going modern, Victorian, futuristic? It’s actually a very serious situation. I remember when my bathroom was painted eggshell and not silverscreen! I was furious and nearly murdered my interior designer…”

Mammon stared at his younger brother, judging him for how serious he was about that incident. Lucifer had to intervene on the account that the designer in question was the royal designer in charge of the decor for social gatherings in the castle. Diavolo would’ve been upset if his designer was flayed to death.

When silence finally fell upon them, the brothers and Lilly sighed collectively before continuing the morning meal. Then entered Lena.

Mammon jumped at the door flying open near him. Satan, Belphegor, and Asmo laughed and teased their older brother’s reaction.

“Damn psychopath….” Lena muttered to herself with grit teeth as she pulled her chair back and sat down with extra force. She began to quickly grab at food, tossing it onto her plate, knowing she had to act fast before Beelzabub devoured everything.

The nephilim felt eyes upon her, but she didn’t address anyone at first. She just continued to get her food and began to eat.

With a mischievous grin, Amso was the first to break the silence, “Leee-nnnaaa...I missed snuggling with you last night…” He gave wink at her when she glanced in his direction. “Are you really okay with crashing on Lilly’s couch?”

“Not really, but it looks like I’ll be sleeping there for a while longer.” Lena stabbed into her scrambled eggs in anger, “Azriel has flooded my brain with so many decisions about colors and I’m about to scream…”

“And what was that a moment ago?” Mammon dared to ask.

A black aura formed around the nephilim and her eyes glared heavily at the second eldest demon, “A warning that apparently isn’t being heeded…” the greedy brother gulped and looked back down at his nearly empty plate.

“Seriously though, I’m so sorry. I’ve brought a lot of chaos into your home in the form of my brother…” her eyes raised to look at everyone and fell upon an indifferent Lucifer. “And sorry for waking everyone up so early this morning.”

“It’s okay...we’re totally used to this kinda of commotion...right guys?” Lilly responded, looking around to get others to join in.

“Oh um…” Leviathan’s face got red, “Y-yeah...usually it’s Mammon causing the Chaos...so this is really a nice change!”

Asmo and Satan chimed-in, agreeing with their older brother. Belphie yawned and nodded while Beel kept chowing down. It made Lilly calm down, glad her apology was accepted. Only Lucifer neglected to acknowledge or accept her apology. Well that and Mammon pouted at being picked on by everyone again.

************************************

Lena lingered in her last class of the day. She was looking at her phone, researching color options for her room. She promised her brother that she would reach a decision by the time she got back home to the House of Lamentation.

Not paying attention to where she was walking, the nephilim bumped into what felt like a brick wall. She quickly stumbled back and looked up. It was Lord Diavolo, accompanied by his stewart, Barbatos. Was everyone over a foot taller than her? No, the angel baby wasn’t.

“S-sorry Lord Diavolo!” Lena said with a clear look of embarrassment across her face. There was something about the prince that made her feel timid and jittery. Definitely unable to look him directly in the eye. It was so unlike her. “I should’ve paid more attention to where I’m going and not at my DDD…”

“It’s quite alright. The halls are empty now so the percentage of you walking into someone was extremely low…” he responded with a chuckle in his voice. He was always smiling and in good spirits. He also had this knowing expression in his eyes. Yeah, that’s what had her frazzled. His expression...and not those broad shoulders or the muscles that peaked through his school uniform shirt. Not his massive size and confident aura...and now she was staring at his tie.

“Miss Lena...are you okay?” he asked, seeing how she was spacing-out while glancing up at him.

“Oh uhm, I...I was just deep in thought about...COLOR CHOICES! Yes, color choices. I have no idea what to pick and I can’t go back to the House of Lamentation until I have or my brother will go off again…”

Diavolo chuckled and exchanged looks with Barbatos. The prince’s stewart gave Lena a very calming smile and asked, “If you don’t mind, may we see the colors you're considering? We could give you our opinion.”

Lena regained some of her composure and turned her DDD so the two powerful demons could take a look. “See, Azriel went overboard as usual. Now I know the difference between 99% of these colors; the tones lean to one side or another and the values vary going this way...I love color theory as an artist myself so it’s a really hard decision for either of us to decide on.”

Giving it a serious thought, Lord Diavolo took the nephilim’s phone to hold it closer. His large hand overlapped Lena’s, causing a deep crimson to spread across her normally snow white complexion. If he noticed, the prince didn’t give an indication. Barbatos smiled as usual and used his fist to cough slightly, catching his Master’s attention.

Looking back down at the blushing nephilim who’s arm was raised high at him and then to Barbatos, the demon prince chuckled and lowered his hand and gave an apology. “Well I’m not so versed in color theory, but these group of colors here really catch my attention. What do you think Barbatos?”

“A splendid choice.” he agreed, “And you might consider using these colors as accents once the room has been painted…”

“Barbatos is in charge of all decorating in the castle. His tastes are superb and he’s never let me down when setting up for events.” the prince boasted.

Lena thanked them both after looking at the colors they selected. “You guys are onto something with these. Thank you guys so much! I was afraid I might have to just camp out here tonight!” she chuckled.

“What are they onto?” A sudden voice boomed from the shadowy hallway behind the prince. Suddenly Lucifer came into view. He looked down at Lena with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“Oh Luci! We just helped narrow down some color choices for Lena’s room. We heard it’s been rather interesting at The House of Lamentation in the mornings over this…” Diavolo chuckled. His voice was deep and boisterous. Lena could drink in that deep laughter for eternity she thought to herself.

“My Lord, if you have time to pick Lena’s colors, then you have time to go over those documents I sent you….” the demon scolded. “Lena, you are without your escort so I will accompany you home now.” Lena had sent Levi away since he was in a rush to pick up an order of “great importance” from Akuzon before Mammon could get to it.

“Haha, looks like I’ve been caught by Luci!” Diavolo responded, scratching the back of his head. We better return to the student council room before we get in trouble Barbatos.”

“Thank you both again.” Lena chimed. She followed after Lucifer, but looked back at the two, mouthing the words “I’m sorry” to them both. The demons both gave her a smile and Diavolo waved at her before heading back in the opposite direction.

********************

Lena and Lucifer walked home in silence for the most part. It felt both tense and awkward for the nephilim. The demon was a man of few words it seemed and she didn’t know how to communicate with him. It bothered her, but he didn’t understand why.

“So uh…” she began, looking down at the ground

“Yes?” he responded, with almost slight irritation in his voice, “What is it you want to say?”

“Well, this morning...I apologized for mine and my brother’s behavior and disruption of your morning.”

Lucifer waited a moment for her to continue, but when Lena didn’t, he let out a sigh, “Are you worried by my lack of direct response to your apology Miss Lena?”

The way he asked that rubbed Lena the wrong way; there was a smugness in his voice that reminded her of the Council of Elders the Van Helsing’s worked with. They always treated her poorly because of not only her mixed race, but her gender as well.

“I wouldn’t say ‘worried’ per say..” she responded with her own level of annoyance in her voice, “I just think it’s rather rude. If someone goes out of their way to apologize for something, especially before anyone comments on it, it warrants a response.”

“And was my silence over the matter not a response in itself Miss Lena?” The eldest demon brother didn’t even look at her once as he spoke. It was becoming more infuriating and she could see why Satan and Belphegor were always talking about pranking him. She’d have to get in on it sometimes. Give them more daring options to annoy the hell out of this pompous ass.

“I guess it was a response. But maybe it could give an undesired translation…” she hesitated with a cocked eyebrow. Lucifer didn’t comment, but she caught him giving a slight glare in her direction. “I might take that silence as indifference to how much noise I may make in the morning. It may lead to me thinking that it’s okay to blast my metal….no dubstep music in the mornings while i do my workout routine before showering.”

There was a moment of silence as they approached The House of Lamentation’s front gates. Then Lucifer gave the most ominous chuckle that Lena had ever heard. It was the complete opposite of Lord Diavolo’s. “Was that a threat Miss Lena?” he asked rhetorically, “You really think I’d let you ‘blast’ that sort of abominable form of music before sunrise in my home?” He finally fully turned to look down at her with that intimidating expression.

Lena looked right back at him with the same expression. It was like a contest of wills and all she could think of was that this demon was nothing more than a pretentious asshole. And the way he looked down at her, both literally and metaphorically, made her want to stomp his foot.

“What are you two doing?” a sudden voice behind them called.

It was Beelzabub with a couple sacks of burgers in hand, with a single burger hanging from his mouth.

“Nothing.” Lucifer glared at his youngest brother. “And why are you eating all of that? It’s Satan’s turn to cook tonight.” He paused for a moment and shook his head before going on by himself into the house.

Both Lena and Beel just stood and watched him leave. “Your brother can be a real piece of work, ya know that Beel?” He blinked back in response for a moment.

“I don’t know what you two were talking about, but Lucifer doesn’t talk a whole bunch unless he’s scolding or directing us…”

“Ah, he’s a Mr. Bossy Pants type. I guess it’s in the name though, right? Avatar of Pride. He’s probably never admitted to be wrong about anything has he? She asked, walking slowly with the redheaded demon.

Beelzabub thought long and hard about it for a moment, “I guess not. I’m not sure he’s ever been wrong about anything...except with his actions towards Be- oh, nevermind that. It’s in the past.”

Lena put his response in a pocket in the back of her mind. Having a little insight on the head demon in charge that even manages to boss Lord Diavolo around is nice.

*****************************

“There you are! I tried to ask Levi where you were but he grabbed his Akuzon package bolted to his room.” Lilly shouted when Lena and Beelzebub entered the house.

Lena chuckled and explained what happened up until this point. This caused Lilly to sigh and shake her head. “Sounds like Lucifer alright. He’s just hard to read, but don’t take his comments or silence for that matter personally. It’s just how he is. You’ll get used to it after awhile. And who knows, he might start talking in multiple sentences after getting to know you better.”

“Ha! That’s assuming he’d ever want to get to know me. I can tell he’s just under obligation to all me to stay here. He’d toss me out given the first chance he got. It makes me even more happy to have Lord Diavolo in my corner…” Lena couldn’t hold back her dreamy sigh, which caused the human to chuckle. Yeah it was pretty damn obvious what the nephilim was thinking about.

*************

Both Lilly and Asmodeus accompanied Lena up to the attic to see what her brothers had accomplished. Apparently Zak had given up on his plans to assist in keeping his siblings from causing too much trouble. It was a full time job he truly wished he got paid for.

Asmo had attached himself to Lena, always holding her hand or wrapped his arms around her like she was a stuffed animal. She didn’t mind it. He was a super clingy, affectionate type. And he smelled absolutely amazing.

“My dear brothers,” she began, “I have returned, as promised, with my final decisions for the colors we’ll be working with.”

Asmo looked down, over her shoulder at the pallet, but not before glancing at her cleavage and giving a sneaky little grin. “Oh my, Leeee-na! I adore these colors!”

“Thanks! I couldn’t have made my decision without Lord Diavolo or Barbatos. They both have great taste…” Lena gushed. Lilly and Asmo looked at each other and giggled at their friend’s response.

Azriel, in a comedic dash, ran to his sister and took the DDD from her. His eyes widened as he studied her choices carefully. “Lena….who picked these?”

“Uh, oh that would be Barbatos. He’s quite talented isn’t he?” Lena nodded. She could tell her brother was impressed. He had that glint in his eye that was a combination of joy and admiration only an artist could have. “They told me he choses all of the designs for the Academy and the castle…”

“I will have to pick his brain when opportunity knocks...he does show a refine taste for style and harmonization of colors. And he was a genius with the values he suggested for the accents.”

Zak looked at their sister and chuckled, “Barbatos better watch out. Someone may have a Stan on their case..” Lena laughed and nodded. It was very seldom that their big brother complimented someone else’s tastes. Azriel could sometimes be even more of a snob than Lucifer.

“All the teasing aside, I’d definitely like to thank them for their assistance. And with the colors selected, do we officially have a game plan ready for this remodel now?” The female nephilim asked.

Azriel nodded, “Yes! Let’s get to work, people! We’ve got a job to do!”

Zak and Azriel were going to stay in the attic to work on the necessary repairs needed before any painting could be done. Asmo and Lilly volunteered to take Lena shopping for the paints. This was for the best so Azriel wouldn’t go into another shopping frenzy.

****************

When the trio returned home, everyone had already ate dinner and were going about their own business as usual. Asmo had texted Satan ahead to let him know that he and the girls were going to grab a bite from Hell’s Kitchen while they were out so he wouldn’t have to fend off Beel on their account.

They delivered the buckets of paint and needed supplies for Lena’s brothers to get started. “Don’t stay up working on this too late please. Get your beauty rest big brother… and you too Zak.” The masculine brother chuckled and joked about it some before resuming the work being done on the ceiling.

“And thank you both for taking me to the store and out for dinner.” Lena pulled Lilly and Asmo in a little hug before letting them go. Asmo held onto her a bit longer, being his clingy, flirty self.

“And what do I get for helping you today, hmmm?” he practically whispered it into her hear, purposely grazing his soft lips against the shell of her ear. He discovered that was one of the little nephilim’s weaknesses.

Lips suddenly pressed against his cheek, causing an instant rosiness. “How about that kiss?” she chuckled. Lilly just watched the two flirt and shook her head with a smile.

“Careful, he will be relentless with you now.” The human headed to Mammon’s room to hang with her bro, or to pester him at the very least.

“Maybe I want a little more than just a kiss Leee-na…” Asmo continued, pulling her into a full hug. Her right arm hugged his waist, but her other held a bag in it. “I did manual labor for you today…”

Lena smirked back, enjoying all the flirtation they shared. It was nice to be sought after, especially after an intense breakup she went through recently. “Well, I suppose I could give you a bit...more…” she teased him and used a bit of her nephilim strength to push the Avatar of Lust against the wall by his bedroom door. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a direct kiss on the mouth, teasing him with the slightest moan, and sucking his bottom lip as she slowly pulled away. “And that’s all you get...for now my lovely.”

As she pulled away, Asmo let out a whimper. Not because he was weak to her, but because he was holding back his desires and his demonic urges. He really wanted to know what it was to fully experience a nephilim. “You’re so mean Leeee-na….” he pouted.

“I get that a lot.” she chuckled in response, “I do need to make a delivery before I get ready to crash for the night. I know my brothers won’t be letting me sleep in tomorrow.”

*****************

After a plethora of flirtations and teasing, Asmo finally retreated to his room. Lena smiled, biting her bottom lip as she walked away from the intense temptations he urged her with.

No, the nephilim had other plans that evening. In the bag she held onto was a gift for her guide and fellow nerd. She walked to Leviathan’s door and knocked. Of course there was an immedite request for a passphrase. “Leviiii..it’s me, Lena. you know I have no idea about Devildom Anime or manga yet. That’s why I’m here..”

There was a long pause before Leviathan opened his door. He hesitated before peeking around to make sure Lena was alone. He then slipped back into his room. Since the door didn’t shut in her face, she assumed she had permission to enter.

“So, you’ve returned from your filler quest for 6 buckets of paint, 10 paint brushes, and bonus loot?” The Avatar of Envy asked. It made Lena smile widely, understanding the typical MMORPG quest type he referred.

“That I have. And I’ve returned with my selected rare items of choice.” Lena held up and wiggled a bag before Leviathan. “I, alas, am not the required class for this prize. However, I did know a party member that is.”

Lena handed him the bag. Leviathan was at first reluctant to take it; his eyes peeked through his bangs at her for a moment before looking inside at these ‘rare items’. He acknowledged her reference. She was no mere normie after all. And when he realize what she was giving him, his face lit up like the Beacons of Gondor!

“OOOOMMMMDDDDD!!!! LENA!” he shouted, quickly removing the gatcha figurines from the bag. “Are you seriously giving these to me?! No way! This must be a sick joke…” he was almost in tears.

They were the other two ultra rare gacha figurines that would now complete the rare collector’s set he had been trying to get for the last two months. Lena remembered how excited he was when she got one of them by pure luck the other night and wanted to try for him while she was out tonight.

Apparently she did good. Lilly and Asmo had picked their seat and placed the orders for the table while she try-hard-moded at the gacha machine until she got the prizes she wanted. She’d accumulated a small audience of young demon children, giving them the prizes she didn’t want. It was quite the scene.

“So, did I get the right ones?” she asked hesitantly. She’d not oblige him with the details of how much grimm she spent getting those for him. She just wanted to thank him for being a great tour guide and opening up to her a bit more at a time.

Leviathan nodded, holding them, and trying not to cry. “ARIGATO!” he yelled and began to carefully remove each figure from their boxes. He already had the others on display with two empty figure stands awaiting these last two models.

He stood back in admiration. “There’s nothing like completing a full set..” he said aloud. He was unaware that Lena stood close to him on his left. He was in complete otaku bliss.

“Right...the full set. I’m so happy I could help.” she replied, causing Levi to let out a small yelp and go completely red from head to toe. “Hey, come back!”

He’d took a large step away from her and she moved in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me now? Do I smell like paint that bad?” Lena sniffed at her shoulder.

“N-n-n-o! You smell like rose and peonies and human sunshine…” Levi blurted. It made Lena blink and then smile, covering her mouth. “I-I just have major personal space issues, ok. I don’t get close to anyone, especially 3D females..i'll stick with my 2D waifus...I-”

He stopped talking, getting more embarrassed at admitting that to the female nephilim slowly approaching him. He felt like he would be betraying ruri-chan if getting any closer to Lena that what he already was.

“Do you not like...3D females?” Lena asked, taking a step towards him. It was a legitimate question to her. She’d leave him alone if he answered that he didn’t. But there was no response.

The statement Lucifer made earlier came to mind, “...my silence over the matter is not a response in itself…” Lena’s brows raised and she got it.

“It’s not that you don’t like 3D females...it’s that you’ve never gotten to be near them, right?”

“I-I guess so. I mean, why would anyone want to get close to a shut-in otaku nerd like me?” He responded, squinting his eyes shut.

Lena, however, furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh I dunno. Could it be because that shut-in otaku is really attractive, smart, hilarious when commentating on his brother’s antics, and really passionate and enthusiastic about what he likes?” she did not like it when people talked bad about themselves. She was the type of person to say ‘no, you are amazing af and here’s why!’

Hearing those compliments, Leviathan was shocked. Daring to open his eyes, the demon was face to face with the nephilim. Or as face-to-face as one could be with such a height difference. His body remained red and he couldn’t take his eyes away from hers.

“Leviathan, you have made me feel more at ease than anyone else in the Devildom. And it’s been wonderful getting to share my nerdy side with someone without judgement. Even when it’s playful, it can take its toll. I know that all too well.” Her hand reached for his. He flinched, but allowed her to take it.

“But I am a no good, dirty otaku that blows all of money on-”

“No! I don’t want to hear it Mr. And look who you’re talking to! I have a room back home, larger than your foyer with my collection of stuff. And did you see how much my brother and I spent on clothes. Pl-lease! You’re not the only nerd or over-spender. And tonight, I spent all my grimm on that gacha game without batting an eyelash. I-”

Oops. she spilled the beans on that one. She felt him return a solid grip on her hand. “You spent all of your grimm on the gacha...and gave it to me?”

Lena found herself looking away for a moment, “I mean, yeah. You’ve tried for 2 months to get that collection, and I had a natural talent for it...so I thought what the hell! Let’s complete that set.” She chuckled for a moment, looking at the bewildered demon. Who knew they could make such an expression. Or have such self-doubt.

Finding herself staring at Leviathan, Lena’s eyes left his own and focused in on his lips. He bit on his bottom lip nervously. “You seemed to gloss over my compliment of how attractive you are as well…” At that he shrinked more.

“N-no I’m not. Look at my hair…” he argued.

“You’re hair color is literally my favorite color...you’ll see soon.” The comment puzzled him just enough to lift his guard in time for Lena to kiss him on the lips.

“Wwwmmmgh!” Levi wanted to do his typical scream, but found himself in almost a daze as the nephilim stole his breath. She. just. KISSED. Him. Leviathan.

There were a couple of small kisses that followed, all leaving Leviathan speechless. Lena let go of his hand, observing his response. She wasn’t sure if a demon could go catatonic or not, but Leviathan was proving it to be possible.

“L-Levi….?” she whispered gently.

“Mmmmh-hmmm….” he squeaked.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmmmh-hmmm….” he squeaked again.

“Did you...like it?” Lena asked, finding herself feeling a little less confident in the moment. She’d never had this sort of reaction before. Did demons like kissing? Asmo was the Avatar of Lust, so maybe he was an exception?

Finally there was another “Mmmmh-hmmm” response. Leviathan did like the series of small kisses. He REALLY liked them. He was just so shocked that a beautiful, 3D female actually did that.

This response made Lena smile with relief and excitement. Not thinking, she hugged him, placing her head in his chest. “Oh, I’m so glad. I thought you were appalled by that. I-”

She paused, hearing the sound of a freight train within the demon’s chest. That proved A. Demons in fact had hearts and B. They could beat insanely fast under the right circumstances. And those circumstances at the moment included kissing, hugging, pretty much any direct physical contact. Oh yeah, and her large chest pressing against him. Leviathan was probably about to die any moment now.

“Le-Lena…” he whispered awkwardly, “L-let go..please…”

“Uhm, sure. Sorry…” She pulled away. She didn’t realize she had him pressed against his closet door with no room to move.

Leviathan took a deep breath and went to sit in his computer chair. She watched him silently stare into nothingness for a moment and eventually went to take a seat on the side of his bathtub bed.

Before she made it over there, the demon reached and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. It was a firm grip at first but he instantly loosened it up. He was all sorts of nervous and she found it completely endearing.

“That was...amazing.’ He finally said, “I’ve never…...that was amazing…” He was trying to communicate his feelings despite all of his embarrassment.

“It was...your lips are incredibly soft…” Lena chuckled.

He peeked up at her, almost irritated like it was an insult instead of a compliment.

She sensed that and quickly continued, “It makes me want to do it again...and again…” She bit her own, looking down at him. She knew that he was clearly super sensitive, which she could work with. He was so cute and she met every compliment she gave him before.

“Do you want to kiss me….more? For real?” Leviathan hesitantly asked. He knew he wanted to kiss her. A lot. It was just so hard to imagine she would do such a thing with him. Maybe it was a spur of the moment and she wasn’t thinking when she did it. Was it an attempt to make him feel better. Surely she couldn’t have any feelings for him.

“Absolutely, Levi-kun…” she replied in a sweet, yet seductive tone. She realized during this silence he was overthinking things.She stepped closer, then sat down on the demon’s lap.

Instantly he squirmed, never imagining something like this would happen to him in a millenia. A beautiful 3D, real creature sat in his...LAP!

“I want to kiss you a lot...and maybe do...this and that…” She whispered into his ear, similarly to how Asmo did to her before. She knew he’d get that typical manga line.

“Th-th-th-th-this a-a-and THAT!!!?” he shouted.

Lena chuckled and placed a finger over his lip to quiet him down. “We can start with kissing for now Levi. I just want to make sure you’re consenting and really want to...I’m not pressuring you at all…”

“P-pressure? No pressure!” Levi responded, staring at her. He was distracted about, well, everything: The feeling of a person in his lap. He really had to keep calm about that. The feeling of her chest against his again. “I...just..this is..”

“...New?” she finished for him. He nodded rapidly. “Well then, if that’s the case, I’ll just help you get used to it.” Lena leaned against him and planted a kiss on his cheek and then on the mouth. The demon almost threw her onto the floor, surprised by the sudden kiss again. It was hard for her to keep from giggling at his reactions. She enjoyed them a little too much.

The two of them continued to practice getting used to the kissing and touching the rest of the night. She wasn’t sure if he was a complete virgin or just out of touch since they age so slowly. She would never dream of asking him directly and decided to take it slow on him.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

You Over Her

Request: Hello. I was hoping I could request a Peter Parker imagine where Peter goes to Y/N to ask for her help to tell M.J how he feels in FFH. Y/N has a crush on Peter but helps him but instead Peter falls for Y/N? Angsty to happy fluffy ending?

Requested by: @mintynapalm-blog

Paring: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 5.6K (this was longer and still shorter than I imagined?)

~Master~

~Marvel Master~

Peter had no idea how to tell a girl he liked her. He knew it, Ned knew it, you knew it, hell even May knew it. He somehow always managed to embarrass himself and never get the job done. Like right now as you sat in class next to Peter and Ned as they went over Peter’s plan to ask out MJ.

You were flipping through your book, barely reading it as you listened to Peter. “Okay, first I sit next to MJ on the flight.” He began as Ned and you nodded, humming a yes. “Second, I’m gonna buy a dual headphone adapter and watch movies with her the whole time.”

“Okay.” Ned said, prompting him to continue.

“Three, when we go to Venice, Venice is super famous for making stuff out of glass, right? So, I’m gonna buy her a Black Dahlia necklace, because her favorite flower is the Black Dahlia, because of, well...”

“The murder.” Ned filled in, you looked up just in time to see Peter with a lovesick smile. Your eyes shot back to your book as fast as they’d risen.

“Right. And four, when we go to Paris, I’m gonna take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower, give her the necklace. Five, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. And then six, hopefully she’ll tell me she feels the same way.” He finished with a satisfied smile on his face as he looked between you and Ned. Your focus was still on the book and Peter felt a little less successful.

“Oh!” Ned shouted, getting Peter’s attention. “Don’t forget step seven.”

Peter furrowed his brows as looked at you and Ned wondering if he was forgetting something. “Step seven?” he asked. Ned glanced at you briefly with a smirk as you quirked a brow.

“Don’t do any of that.” You let out a snort at Ned’s words, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and prevent another from coming through. Peter’s whole face dropped at Ned’s words and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He must really like MJ.

So, you might’ve been crushing on Peter. Crushing putting in lightly.

“Y/NNN!!” Peter called at you, snapping you out of your slight daydream. You played if off and luckily neither Peter or Ned caught on. “I need your help.”

“My help? What the hell with?” you were already unnerved by the smile Peter was giving you and you weren’t looking forward to finding out what he wanted.

“Well you’re a girl.”

You blinked at him, your lips falling into a thin line. “Astute observation Pete.” You closed your book, moving to stand up and shove it into your backpack before Peter grabbed your arm.

“No! I just mean- I meant, you’re a girl. You’re good at these things, right?” He sounded desperate and with a sigh you sat down, slouching in your seat a little.

“Good at what? Asking someone out? Peter you know I’ve never asked someone out right?” You didn’t really want to have this conversation, but you knew Peter was going to keep asking.

“Well, you know how girls want to be asked out. You could help me, you know, ask out MJ.” Peter smiled at you and you groaned, closing your eyes.

Well shit, he had a point there.

“Please Y/N, you know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. Please?” He gave you his puppy dog eyes, the ones you knew you could never say no to as you groaned, throwing your head back.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll help you.”

“No Y/N you can’t.” Ned said. Mentally you were relieved, but you didn’t understand and neither did Peter. “We were going to be bachelors in Europe Peter!” You had to laugh at his statement, both boys looking at you before Ned carried on. “Look, I may not know much, but I do know this: Europeans love Americans and more than half of them are woman.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” You told him, patting his back.

“Less than half are woman?” Ned clarified as you rolled your eyes, giving up.

“Sure Neddie. Sure.”

Peter groaned, getting your attentions again. “I really like MJ, Okay? She’s awesome, she’s funny in a sort of dark way, and sometimes I catch her looking at me.” He glanced over your shoulder, seeing MJ coming your way as his eyes widened. “Guys, she’s coming. Just don’t say anything.” You rolled your eyes, turning in your seat momentarily to send your friend a smile.

“What up, dorks? Excited about the science trip?” She asked, leaning into the table to stand next to you.

“Yeah, and Peter’s plan.” Ned said as Peter and you both looked at him with wide eyes. He wouldn’t tell MJ, right?

“What plan?”

“I-I don’t have a plan.” Peter blurted out.

Ned tried to make things better, only to make things worse. “No, he’s just going to collect tiny spoons while we’re traveling to other countries.”

MJ scrunched her face up, looking at Peter like he was crazy. “Like a grandmother?”

“It’s for his Aunt May.” You interrupted them, sending Ned and Peter a look to play along. “All the ones she collected were lost after the blip. Peter was going to buy some new ones for her.” MJ looked almost taken back by your response, the boys surprise almost matching until you kicked them both under the table.

“Uh, Yeah. T-they’re for May.”

“Wow, Peter. That’s really cool.” Peter smiled nervously to her, making your stomach drop slightly. “By the way, travel tip: You should probably download a VPN on your phone, just so that the government can’t track you while we’re abroad.” MJ said returning to the girl you knew. Peter chuckled, telling her the idea was smart before watching her walk away.

He turned to Ned, glaring at him before looking at you. “Don’t mention it Peter.” You gave him a smile before grabbing your book and headed towards the door.

“Well, I think that went great.” Ned shrugged as Peter nodded, sending him another glare before watching you disappear.

You flipped through the channels on the news while sitting on your couch, seeing reporter after reporter talking about the blip. You were about to turn it off before you saw Peter dressed as Spider-Man at what seemed to be a support rally. You sat up and listened to the reporters attack him, asking him if he was going to be the next avenger or how he was supposed to fill Tony’s shoes. You hated listening, about to turn it off before seeing Peter start to get anxious, leaving the interview as fast as he could.

You sighed, reaching for your phone and shooting Peter a quick text asking if he was alright. You didn’t expect Peter to answer after moments like these, he needed space and you knew that. But you couldn’t help but wonder if MJ texted instead of you, would he have answered?

Peter ended up texting you that night before he went to bed, apologizing for not answering earlier. You were already in bed when you got his text, and the one following asking if he could FaceTime with you.

You groaned checking yourself out in your camera. Your hair was a mess and you looked like you haven’t slept in days, but you ignored it knowing Peter’s seen you looking this bad before.

You pressed the call button and the moment his face popped up on your screen, you had to laugh. He was holding the phone way to close to his face and the lights of the room were off, the only brightness coming from his screen.

“Pete, pull the phone away!” You giggled as he let out a groan, pulling the device from his face slightly. You felt yourself gasp when you realized he was shirtless, and you hoped he hadn’t heard it.

“Why are you up so late?” He grumbled out, turning to lay on his back and bunching his pillow into his chin.

You looked over to the clock in your bedside table, reading the bright letters telling you it was half passed one in the morning. You shrugged at the screen. “I don’t know. Couldn’t sleep. ‘Sides, we leave for Europe tomorrow.” Peter groaned, running a hand over his face making you chuckle again. “Were you on patrol?”

He nodded, shooting you a lazy smile. “Yeah, figured I get one more night in before we leave.” In the dark, Peter looked at his empty suitcase. “I’d ask if you’re packed yet, but knowing you, you’ve been packed since we got back.”

“Hey, I am an organized person, okay. But Peter, please tell me you haven’t put off packing.” He gave you a grin, one that told you he did in fact put off packing. You scoffed, smirking at him. “So, any progress on dating MJ?” You didn’t know why you brought it up, it hurt you to think about, but you knew it was important to him.

“What? O-oh, Uh Nope. Not since class.” You started to nod because letting out a yawn, him making chuckle. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You asked before another yawn took you over, your eyes droopy.

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m fine Peter.” You lied. Peter didn’t say anything, just watching you yawn a third time. “I swear I wasn’t yawning a minute ago.”

“Aw, Y/N am I putting you to sleep?”

“Shut up jerk. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so tired if you would’ve gotten off patrol earlier.” You laughed but Peter didn’t laugh with you, instead his brows furrowing.

“You were awake because you were waiting for me? I thought you said you couldn’t sleep.” You realized what you had just said, telling Peter the real reason you stay up until 1:30.

You didn’t have time to respond before your dad opened the door. “Come on Y/N. You promised last night you’d go to bed earlier.” He flickered your lights before Peter’s chuckle made its way through the phones speaker and your dad stopped. “Good to bed, Peter.” He called out, watching you turn the phone to him.

“Sorry Mr. Y/L/N!” Peter said over the phone, both of you trying to keep yourselves from laughing as your dad sent you a knowing smirk. Behind the camera your eyes widened, glaring at him and silently pleading that he would stop and shut the door. He finally relented, turning your light off on the way.

You face palmed as you spun the phone around again, seeing Peter’s teasing smile. “Ooh, you got in trouble.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I know.” You sighed, looking at Peter through the phone. “Night Petey.”

“Good night Y/N.” Peter watched as you pressed the end call button, your face lingered on his screen for an extra second before it disappeared and he turned off his phone, bathing him in darkness as he worried about this trip.

The airplane was exactly how you expected it to be. The kids from your class were creating chaos as people tried to board, making you laugh and shake your head. You took your seat next to Brad and looked around for your friends. Betty and MJ were sitting in the row behind you and Peter and Ned were sitting on the window a couple rows ahead. You could see Peter kept glancing at MJ before you remembered his plan.

Step 1: Sit next to MJ on the flight

You thought about how to do this, tapping Betty on the shoulder. “Hey Betts, would you mind switching seats with Peter? He’s a little allergic to the perfume of the lady in front of him.” Betty furrowed her brows but stood up none the less, climbing over MJ and heading to the row Peter and MJ sat.

“Hey guys.” She said as Peter and Ned just stared at her, making her more confused. “Peter, Y/N said you needed to switch seats? Something about allergies.” One look at the face you were giving Peter told him that this was all part of your plan as he quickly got to his feet.

“Oh yeah! Uh, thanks Betty.” Ned let him out of the row as Betty took Peter’s seat, giving Ned a shy smile. When Peter passed you, you gave him a thumbs up before settling into your own seat. You hadn’t realized Brad was watching you with a raised brow and a smirk of his own.

“What?” you asked him as he shrugged, the smirk never leaving his lips.

“Nothing. Just thought it was weird you couldn’t switch with Parker. Especially since in doing so, you could sit next to your friends. But instead you’re here, sitting next to me.” You bit the inside of your cheek, grinning a bit yourself because Brad had a point.

“Maybe I wanted to sit next to you.” He let out a chuckle, knowing you were just messing with him to drop the conversation. You reached into your bag, pulling out your earbuds and putting them on your table. Brad watched you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a dual headphone connector he had bought for this exact reason.

“Wanna share?” He offered, getting your attention. You looked between him and the connector before snickering under your breath.

“Sure Davis, why not.” Peter watched between the cracks of the chair as you plug your earbuds into Brads, putting them into your ears. He couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his seat at the sight before MJ nudged him.

“Dude, you okay?” She asked as he nodded, pulling his attention away from you onto her.

Step 2: Watch movies with her the whole time

Peter offered MJ the dual headphone connector. She shrugged as she plugged her headphones in, and Peter put on a movie that was something MJ liked. But he couldn’t help but look through the cracks of the seats to see you snort at the movie you and Brad were watching before covering your mouth, hoping no one heard or saw. But Peter did because right now, his attention was solely focused on you. And the way you rested your head on Brad’s shoulder to see the movie better.

And the way his stomach felt to be on fire, lighting his heart along with it.

The first stop on your trip to Europe was Venice and you couldn’t be happier. Brad decided to stick by you since the flight, you didn’t really mind honestly, Peter was trying to get with MJ and Ned had forgone his entire Bachelor’s in Europe plan when he and Betty started to date during the 9-hour-flight. You were all headed to the Saint Marco Polo’s Square basking in the sunlight as it hit your face.

“Y/N!” Peter called after you as you set off with Brad who was going to take your pictures for you. You turned around to see Peter jogging up to you as you pulled your sunglasses off, giving him a soft smile.

“Hey Pete. What’s up?” you could’ve sworn Peter sent Brad a glare, but you shook the feeling off, believing it to just be in your head.

Brad on the other hand, caught Peter’s glare and threw his arm over your shoulder. You raised a teasing brow at him, but he wasn’t looking at you but at Peter. “I uh, I was hoping you’d come with me to buy the um,” He seemed to pause in his words when he saw Brads fingers placed delicately on your exposed shoulders thanks to your top that cut off just above your navel and came up to tie around your neck. You tilted your head at him. “To buy the thing.” It took you only a second to remember step 3 of the plan.

Step 3: Buy her a Black Dahlia necklace

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth before turning to Brad, giving him a sweet smile and putting your hand on his arm. “Sorry, I kind of promised him. Rain check?” Brad didn’t want to, but he nodded, feeling you pat his arm before walking away with Peter.

Peter didn’t say anything as you kept stealing glances at him. You were getting kind of tired of the silence as you bumped your arm with his. “So, where’s this glass necklace shop?” You asked looking around.

Peter looks around, seeing the sign just ahead as he points. “It’s just up there.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Peter was about to question you before you grabbed his hand, taking off running through the square. Peter laughed hard as he was forced to chase after you, seeing you glance back at him every so often with a wide smile that just made him more confused with his feelings.

The store came quicker than he hoped as you stopped running, dropping Peter’s hand from yours and panted slightly. You looked at the quaint store, marveling in its beauty before Peter held the door open you. Inside was even more lovely than the outside, every wall and case filled with glass designs as you began to look around.

“Buongiorno.” Peter told the older man behind the counter who repeated the saying, giving you both a warm smile. “Hi, I’m looking for a-“

The man stopped Peter before he could say anything else.

“No English.” He said as Peter’s face dropped. You grabbed Peter’s hand stepping up to the counter.

“il mio sta cercando una collana.” You spoke up as Peter looked at you with wide eyes. The man’s warm smile was back, directly pointed to you as you described the necklace to him. He made the necklace before holding it up for you and Peter.

“Fiore Nero.” Peter took the necklace into his hands.

“è perfetto.” You thanked the man for making it and Peter paid him before you both headed outside, Peter once again looking at you amazed.

“I didn’t know you knew Italian.”

You shrugged, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes when the sun hit them. “My mom loved Italy, she always promised to take my dad and here when I grew up. She started teaching me when I was young.” Peter’s smile fell a little when you mentioned your mom. He remembered the day 13-year-old you called him, crying over the phone and he had to beg May to drive him to your place just so he could comfort you. He knew how hard it was to lose your parents.

“Y/N-“

“What was step 4 again?” you interrupted him, not wanting to get into his conversation right now in the middle of Venice. Peter cleared his throat, looking straight ahead to where MJ was standing surrounded by birds.

“Give her the necklace on top of the Eiffel Tower.” He reminded you and you nodded, giving him a smile.

“Good, so now you have time to ensure she feels the same about you.”

“What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes, looking around the square as you talked.

“Well, step 6 is hoping MJ feels the same and in order to for her to feel that way, you have to convince her.” You stopped Peter in his tracks, getting him to look at MJ playing with the birds. “Peter I’ve never had a boyfriend, okay? It’s pretty obvious that I don’t know how to get a guy to like me,” Peter wanted to object when you were too busy watching MJ to him as you kept talking, “but I know what a guy could do to get me to like him.”

It was pretty easy to figure out. It was everything Peter did.

Peter nodded his head, taking deep breaths as you laughed quietly, putting your hands on his shoulders to get him to look at you. “Peter, trust me, you’ll have no problems getting her to like you.” Peter’s lips curled up in a smile at your words, for a second you enjoyed the moment, but that moment was over as soon as you remembered you were trying to set him up with your friend. You cleared your throat, pulling your eyes back to MJ and taking your hands off his shoulder. “Just be honest with her. No one likes secrets, especially from a guy trying to ask her out.”

“Honest. Okay, I-I can do that.” He said as he bounced on his feet, getting his whole body in motion to hype himself up. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him, giving his shoulder a slight push in her direction. Peter stumbled as he started looking, turning back to you with wide eyes. You gave him a smile, one that Peter found to calm his nerves immensely as he inhaled, carrying on with the plan. You watched Peter walk away, literally right into MJ’s hands from yours. Your heart was drowning in your chest as you watched Peter and her talk, seeing the smiles he gave her and knowing they were nothing like the smiles he was giving you. You had to turn away at the sound of MJ’s laughter.

“Are you sure you should be helping him?” You jumped in your spot at the sound of Ned’s voice behind you. Your hand flew to your chest as you spun around to scowl at him, seeing Betty and him side by side. The smirk Ned wore made you glance over your shoulder briefly to Peter before shaking your head.

“And why shouldn’t I? I mean, he is my best friend.”

This time it was Betty’s turn to smirk at you. “Because you’re in love him.”

“Betty!” Your jaw dropped as she shrugged her shoulders, resting her head onto Ned. “I’m not in love with Peter.”

“Come on Y/N. Just be honest with him.” Ned mocked giving you a smile and you knew he overheard your conversation with Peter.

“It’s not that easy, Ned.” You sighed, feeling Ned’s arm around your shoulder as you walked away. “He likes MJ. I’m helping him ask out MJ. Not me.”

“So, you’re not gonna deny it?” Ned asked as he felt you chuckle in his arm.

“Would you believe me if I denied it again?” Betty and Ned shook their heads as you all snickered, moving on to visit Venice. You hadn’t realized that the moment you started walking away, Peter’s eyes were drawn to you, seeing you sulk with Ned and Betty. His brows were drawn together as he forgot about the girl who was playing with pigeons in front of him, focusing instead on you who was currently throwing your head back in laughter at something Ned or Betty had said.

Ned and Betty wanted to ride a gondola together and not wanting to be a third wheel or ruin their vacation, you opted out, telling them you just wanted to check out some of the shops. Your first trip to Venice wasn’t at all what you expected it to be, but you weren’t really complaining. It was a beautiful day out and the people were kind, always offering you smiles whenever they saw you. It wasn’t long after before you figured it was time to start finding your classmates. You were in a little boutique much like the one you were in with Peter before you started hearing screaming outside, you and the shop owner exchanging worried glances as you left the store. The moment you did, you regretted it, your jaw dropping at the sight of a huge water monster taking form in the canal. People ran by you shrieking, the woman you were with doing the same and grabbing your arm. The action snapped you out of your shock as your feet started running, trying to keep you from falling on your face.

The woman’s grip on you dropped when a piler landed between you, both of you jumping to the side to avoid being crushed. You had landed on the ground, your legs giving out under you before you felt someone pull you up. “Y/N!” He shouted, his hands cupping your face to make you realize it was Peter.

Your eyes couldn’t seem to focus before he started to pull you along, bringing you to an area that was semi clear. “Peter?” you cried out, getting him to look at you. He was soaked in his clothes, his hair draping in his face. “What is happening?” You looked at the water monster, buildings being broken as your heart raced. “What is that?!”

Peter didn’t know how to answer that, his wet hair flopping as he looked between you and the monster. “I don’t know. Just stay here.” He grabbed your hands, looking in your eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying here.” You mouth opened, trying to say something but nothing worked so you nodded, feeling Peter squeeze your hands before running away.

You didn’t know how long you stood there watching Peter battle the water monster attacking Venice. You were safe where Peter had left you. Keyword, were. A rush of water hit the building next to you, the wood cracking before it fell. You let out a scream, backing against the opposite wall. The wall connecting the two buildings together started to fall as well and you knew you had to get out of there.

You stepped out the store, dashing away as the building crumbled, sending you to the ground again. You groaned as you pushed yourself up, barely getting one foot flat on the ground before you let out a scream. Water fell atop you, knocking you over and slamming your head against the ground below you. A sharp pain went through the back of your head as the water cleared up. You coughed the water out of your lungs, clutching the back of your head and thanking the fact no blood had shown up but it didn’t last long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you passed out.

When the water monster was taken care of, thanks to some magical hero Peter had never met before, he immediately went back to where he left you. But when he saw the building you were last in collapsed on the ground; Peter felt his entire body give out. He took off running, ignoring the cries of his legs and his eyes as he jumped onto the rubble, pulling debris away left and right in hopes of finding you.

You couldn’t be gone. You had to be alright.

Peter’s cries turned into guttural screams as he neared the bottom, only seeing ground instead of you. He shouldn’t have left you there. He should’ve brought you to Ned or MJ. He was with MJ, just before the monster attacked but he left her with Brad, running off to find you as none of his classmates new about your whereabouts. Peter sucked in a breath, trying to keep from crying more as he grasped the fact if he hadn’t found you, maybe you were okay. Maybe you were with your friends. He felt around his pocket for his phone, pulling it out to find it waterlogged. He groaned, rubbing the palm of his hands to his eyes before he shoved the device into his pocket, stood onto his wobbly feet and started back to the crappy hotel you were hopefully in.

When he arrived, Mr. Harrington sighed in relief thanking the fact that Peter was alright. Ned was out of his seat, rushing to Peter’s side as Peter’s eyes scanned around the room for you, only to come up empty. The dread in his stomach only increased as he grabbed his friend’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “Ned. Where’s Y/N?”

Ned copied Peter’s stance, giving him a smile. “Calm down! Calm down. She’s fine. She’s in her room with MJ. She found her passed out on the ground and Brad helped carry her back here.” Ned was barely done with his sentence before Peter was running up the stairs three steps at a time, his classmates watching his frantic actions before turning back to the tv where Mysterio was being shown. Peter headed straight to your room, the door busting open to reveal you and MJ both jumping as you sat on the bed, MJ right next to you as you were wrapped in a blanket, holding an ice pack to your head.

Peter let out a shaky sigh, as soon as soon as he saw you, his lips turning into a smile when yours did. “Thank god.” He mumbled before making his way to the bed. You immediately jumped up, the ice pack and blanket falling off you as ran to Peter. His hands immediately went around your waist as you threw yours around his neck, letting him lift you into the air for a hug. His head nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he shook in your embrace.

MJ watched with a smirk before standing up from her chair, walking past you both and to the door. You pulled yourself from Peter to look at her. “I’ll leave you to it.” She winked at you as you gulped, looking to the floor before up to Peter. His eyes were locked on your face and watery, tears wanting to race down his puffy cheeks. He hadn’t even looked back at MJ, his sole focus on you as he brought a hand up to caress your cheek.

“Peter.” You whispered, feeling your voice crack.

“I thought I lost you.” He muttered, bringing his other hand up to your other cheek. You grabbed his wrists softly, gently rubbing your thumbs on his skin. “I thought I killed y-“

“No.” you stopped him, your hold on his wrists tightening briefly. “Don’t say that Peter. It wouldn’t have been your fault.”

“I’m so sorry.” He sobbed out, bringing you into his arms again. You held him close to you, letting yourself cry into his shoulder as he did yours. Peter knew you were right, but he was the one to tell you to stay there. And if you died without him telling you the truth…

Peter pulled away as fast as he could, startling you as your hands fell off him, both of you standing a few feet away. Peter didn’t say anything, making you nervous as he looked at you, just looking at you. You didn’t know if it was the concussion you were sure to have or the way Peter’s eyes glinted as he looked at you right now, his lips turning into the smile you grew fond of.

Peter knew the smile he’d given you was different than the one he gives everyone else, and much different than the ones he’d given MJ. The smiles he gave you were nowhere near the ones he gave her. The ones he gave you held emotions; it was Peter looking at you with a love he didn’t even know he had yet.

Step 5: Tell her how you feel

Just be honest with her

“Y/N I love you.” You froze under his gaze, your heart pounding through your ears, making you believe you heard him wrong.

“W-what?” You stuttered out. Peter’s confidence dropped, his smile dropping and making you realize you hadn’t heard him wrong. “Wait, you don’t mean that as ‘I love you, you’re my best friend’ right? I- I mean, what about MJ?”

Peter let out a light, airy chuckle, shaking his head and licking his lips. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into him again and pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes closed, your hands slowly moving up to run your fingers through his hair. Peter feeling your fingers tug his locks, took the chance to deepen the kiss. When you pulled apart, your forehead rested onto his, noses nudging together. “Y/N, I’d choose you over her every day.” His breath fanned over you lips, making you giggle and bite your lip, looking into his eyes.

“I’m not just imagining this because of my head, am I?” you joked as Peter laughed and closed his eyes, crinkles lining the corners. When he opened them again, Peter was greeted with a sight that made him weak in the knees. Not from the way 20 minutes ago he was digging around in a collapsed building thinking you were underneath, or the way his legs ran him throughout the city when he had hope you were at the hotel. No, this weak in the knees started as a flutter in his heart, a warmth encasing his body, seeming to pinpoint the small places your fingers delicately touched his skin.

Step 6: Hope that she feels the same way

Peter took your hand in his, threading your fingers with his. “Peter.” You spoke softly, making Peter stop fidgeting with your fingers. “I love you too.” Peter didn’t know how much he needed to hear those words coming out of your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist again and hauled you in the air, spinning you around before laying another kiss on your lips.

A/N: I literally couldn’t figure out how to finish this piece, so I just did. Hope you like it and it’s what you wanted hon! Let me know what y’all think!

Tags open!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio @smilexcaptainx

Marvel: @hahaboop @laic2299

Peter: @danielabetancourth @darktwistydiamond @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @missmulti @sovereignparker

[doshmanziari]

Musical Offerings for the New Year || What is “Radical Music” in 2021?

Near the end of 2020, a bunch of musicians populating a chatroom, including myself, each submitted ten minutes’ worth of our work to another musician, Chimeratio, who generously compiled it all into a set totaling nearly ten hours.¹ The work didn’t need to be new; just what we thought might best represent our abilities/style(s) and/or perhaps what we were especially pleased with. The set premiered in late January. Since I have some tentative plans for reorienting Brick By Brick this year, while not overriding its emphases, I wanted to share that music with anyone who’s interested.

I compiled the four videos into a playlist, although you can also access them individually: here (1), here (2), here (3), and here (4). If you care to, and are on a computer, you can also view the accompanying chatlog and read people’s responses from when they were listening to the live broadcast.

The compulsion for this project was sparked by excited discussions over and usage of the term “digital fusion”, most helpfully propagated by Aivi Tran, designating a computer-based body of work that for years lacked the rooftop of a commonly agreed upon genre-name. While describing my music has never been a big concern, even if it’s usually felt impossible (what, for example, is this? or this? I dunno!), I’ve appreciated how the spread and application of this term has brought together people who may have felt isolated.²

As “digital fusion” gained designative traction, I witnessed the activity in the aforementioned chatroom explode over the course of a few days. Before, a day’s discussion might’ve been a few dozen messages; now, there were dozens of messages every half-minute. This had positive and negative ramifications, the negative being that conversations often proceeded at a pace of rapidity which precluded concentrated thought. Eventually, I bowed out because the rapidity exceeded my threshold for meaningful interaction; but I was glad that significant invigoration was going on.

I wanted to share this music also because it intersects with thoughts and talks I’ve been having stemming from the question, “What is ‘radical music’ in 2021?” This was stimulated by a 2014 talk given by the writer Mark Fisher, wherein he contends that, were we to play prominent “cutting edge” music from now to people twenty years ago, very nearly none of it would be aesthetically shocking, bizarre, or revelatory (think of playing house music to an audience in the early 1960s!). Fisher also observes a trend of returning to music which once was seen as the future -- as if, deprived of a shared prograde vision, imaginations turn hazily retrograde; ergo, genres such as synthwave or albums like Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories.

It isn’t my goal here to argue about the “end of history.” Fisher’s time-travel hypothetical, however, rings loud and true to me. Visible musical radicalism has, for at least a decade, been strictly extra-musical, in the sense of songs like “This is America” or “WAP”, where one’s response is primarily to the spectacle of the music video, the performer’s identistic markers, and/or the manner in which the lyrics intersect with (mostly US-centric) ideological hotspots. Musically, there is really nothing radical here. Any vociferous condemnations or defenses of a song like “WAP” deal in moralizing reactions to semantics or imagery: how progressive or regressive is the political aspect? how propelled or repelled are we by the word “pussy”?

It would be a mistake, and simply wrong, to assert that the only music one can enjoy escapes the parameters outlined above; and my inability to coherently categorize some of my own music hardly raises that portion to the status of radicality. But the question here pertains to what is being made, and I think that if we’re going to seriously consider the nature of truly radical music today, we do need to question if such a quality can prominently exist when our hyper-fast consumerist cycle seems to forbid not just sustained, lifelong relationships to artwork but also the local, unhurried nourishment of creative gestation. Now, in my opinion, there are good, even great, examples of radical music still being made in deep Internet-burrows, and for evidence of that I would offer some of the material contained in the linked playlists. Moreover, I’d say that this quality can exist in part because these little artistic communities are so buried.

Let me share a quote that another person shared with me recently:

For culture to shift, you need pockets of isolated humanity. Since all pockets of humanity (outside of the perpetually isolated indigenous people in remote wilderness) are connected in instantaneous fashion, independent ideas aren’t allowed to ferment on their own. When you cook a meal, you have to bring ingredients together that have had time to grow, ferment, or decompose separately. A cucumber starts out as a seed, then you mix it with the soil, water and sunlight. You can’t bring the seed, soil, water and sunlight to the kitchen from the get-go. When you throw those things in to the mixture without letting them mature, the flavor cannot stand out on its own. Same thing with art and fashion. A kid in Russia can come up with a new way to dance, gets filmed on a phone, it goes viral quickly but gets lost in the morass of all of the other multitudinous forms of dance. Sure it spread far and wide, but it gets forgotten in a week. In the past, his new art form would have been confined locally, nurtured, honed, then spread geographically, creating a distinct new cultural idiosyncrasy with a strong support base. By the time it was big enough to be presented globally, it was already a cultural phenomenon locally. This isn’t possible anymore. We’re consuming too many unripened fruits.

The main impression I have here is that radical music today will, and must be, folk music. Our common idea of folkiness might be the scrappy singer strumming a guitar, but my interpretive reference rather has to do with the idea of a music being written, first of all, for one’s self, and then shared with a small-scale community, which in turn helps the artist grow at their own pace. This transcends a dependence upon image, the primacy of acoustic instrumentation, or the signaling of sincerity versus insincerity. It is a return to the valuation of outsider art, so rare nowadays. As someone who I was recently in dialogue with wrote, “Where can you find new genuine folk music? Pretty much just with your friends, imo. Even then, the global world is so influential and seeps into any crack it can find. I think vaporwave was radical and folk for a while. Grant Forbes made that music way before the world knew about it.”

Sometimes, a lot of fuss is made over what’s seen as “gatekeeping” within certain communities. It can be, depending on the context, justifiable to question and critique this behavior. At other times, the effort of maintaining a level of exclusivity, of retaining an idiosyncratic shapeliness to the communal organism, can be a legitimate attempt to protect the personal, interpersonal, and cultural aspects from the flattening effect of monoculture. Hypothetically, I welcome the Castlevania TV series and Super Smash Bros. Ultimate having introduced new and younger demographics to Castlevania. In actuality, stuff like “wholesome sad gay himbo Alucard”, image macros, and neurotic “stan” fanfiction being what’s now first associated with the series makes me want to put as much distance as possible between my interests and those latecoming impositions.

The group-terminology David Chapman uses in his essay “Geeks, MOPs, and Sociopaths in Subculture Evolution” is kinda cringey, but some of the cultural/behavioral patterns he lays out are relevant to the topic. Give it a look. If we cross his belief that “[subcultures] are no longer the primary drivers of cultural development” with our contemporary consume-and-dispose customs, we’re left with the predicament of it’s even worth attempting to bring radical/outsider art beyond its rhizomatic habitat. This is troubling, because it would mean that artistic radicality no longer might not only refuse to but cannot encompass cultural upheaval. It would be like if dance music were invented and -- instead of progressively permeating nightlife, stimulating countercultural trends, and ultimately being adapted as the basis for pop music globally -- only were listened to via headphones by a few thousand people on their own, stimulated a group meeting once a year or two, and never affected music beyond a niche-within-a-niche. That’s a very sad picture to me.

⁂

¹ Chimeratio has also maintained an excellent blog on here dedicated to looking at videogame music written in irregular time signatures, far preceding higher-profile examinations like 8-bit Music Theory’s video on the same topic.

² For myself, creative isolation has had its uses, because it has led me down routes that are highly personalized. The isolation can be dispiriting too. Although a lot of my music is videogame-music-adjacent, almost none of it uses “authentic” technology, such as PSG synthesizers or FM synthesis; and the identification of those sounds is fairly important for recognition.

[tealin]

Cape Crozier: The Outward Journey

As always, please visit the original blog for proper formatting. Sigh, Tumblr.

I am telling this as the last of my field trips, because it was without doubt the climax of my Antarctic adventures.  In actual fact, this happened the day after the previous climax, which was when I flew over the Beardmore Glacier. If time was invented so everything didn't happen at once, and space was invented so it didn't happen to you, then Time and Space were apparently out on a girls' weekend in late November 2019.

There was one major journey yet to undertake, in my visits to sites of historical importance.  It was the location of a minor side-quest in the story of the Scott Expedition – one could, theoretically, leave it out of a retelling with no narrative consequences – but it's the central episode and emotional fulcrum of The Worst Journey in the World, and gave the book its title.  In June and July 1911, the dead of Antarctic winter, three men set off from Cape Evans to reach the Emperor penguin colony at Cape Crozier, on the other side of Ross Island, to fetch some eggs when the embryos were at the right stage of development to yield potential clues to the evolution of birds.  The adventure ended up being more of a test of human endurance than avian ancestry, and the results got from the few specimens they did collect did not advance the theory they were hoped to prove (though scientists would remind us that negative results are still results).  However, it is an amazing story of what people are willing to undertake for the sake of intellectual progress, and in this instance, of how cast-iron character can make the unimaginably awful endurable, and as such, it very much warrants the retelling.

Unlike Cape Evans, Cape Crozier is hard to get to, hostile, and not very well documented.  There was no way I could ever visit it at midwinter, but, having almost no clue what the place was like beyond the written word, it was vitally important to me to stand there myself and get a sense of the geography, so that I could draw figures groping around it in moonlight and blizzard when the time came.  Luckily the NSF agreed that it was important I go, because it was the most complex and expensive trip to arrange.  It would necessitate a helicopter ride; helicopters cost so much to fly, and are so necessary for shuttling people and stuff around any part of Antarctica that is inaccessible by plane (which is most of Antarctica), that their use is very strictly rationed.  I had exactly enough helicopter time allocated to get me to Cape Crozier and back.  Therefore, we had to fly on a day when it was absolutely certain we would not have to turn around, because an aborted trip would mean I didn't have enough flight hours left to try again.  Antarctic weather is unpredictable and Cape Crozier has a reputation for turning very nasty very fast, so this needed to be a careful judgement call.

The first day it was posited I fly, it didn't happen – I forget why; I think there was a backup in other jobs, and mine, being of low importance, got dropped to make room.  The second time, I was slotted for 3:45pm, though with one eye on the weather and the other on resources, the right was reserved to cancel at any time.  A little after 2:30 my coordinator called to say we were, as far as anyone could tell, good to go, so to meet at Helo Ops at 3 for the safety briefing and helmet fitting.

Accompanying me to the far reaches of Ross Island would be my coordinator, who had been a few times before; the pilot, who was one of the best in the biz and had flown for pretty much any Antarctic documentary you care to name; and a biologist, who was required to go because Cape Crozier hosted a rare and fragile species of Antarctic lichen, which we must be careful not to step on or disturb in any way.  The biologist who usually went on these trips was feeling unwell, so she sent a replacement, who was very happy to have the opportunity as he had never been to Cape Crozier before.  Of course, this meant he didn't know what the lichen looked like, but we would doubtless find out when we got there.

Team assembled and briefing done, we had only to wait for the flight to be activated.  The last possible moment came and went without cancellation, so we were on.

The latest weather report from the station at Cape Crozier was that it was 30% cloudy with winds at 7 knots.  Keeping an eye on the wind was important for obvious safety reasons; the cloud conditions, though, were important for less obvious reasons.  The helicopter pilot needs shadows and detail to be able to tell how far away the ground is, either to stay in the air or to make an emergency landing.  When clouds diffuse sunlight, a snow-covered surface looks perfectly blank, and no details show up to give a sense of scale or distance, so it's unsafe to fly.  

We were supposed to have flown along the south coast of Ross Island, following the route that Wilson, Bowers, and Cherry-Garrard sledged at great cost in 1911.  That side of the island was cloudy, however, so we were redirected to fly around the other side.  From a historical perspective this was a bit of a disappointment, but from an artistic one, the north side of the island was absolutely stunning, and I very quickly came to see why people with money to burn choose to travel by helicopter.

Plus, it meant we started out journey by flying over Cape Evans.

All of Ross Island is volcanic, and near Cape Royds is a small parasitic cone which was explored by the expedition's geologists, who were also the first to climb Mt. Erebus.  I thought it was named Mt. Sis, after someone's sister, but in fact it is Mt. Cis, after one of their dogs.  Our pilot had been this way before and had something special to show us:

On top of Mt. Cis is a pickaxe.  I don't believe there's any historical record of anyone leaving it there, but the Nimrod Expedition is not my speciality.  It has been checked out, and the pickaxe is a model that was in use in the early 20th century, so either an early explorer stuck it there and didn't bother writing it down, or a later explorer found an old pickaxe and stuck it there to give the impression an early explorer had done so.  Anyway, it's been there as long as anyone can remember, and doesn't seem to have suffered much, so will probably continue to be there for some time to come.

From there, onwards up the east coast to cross over the shoulder between Mt Erebus and Cape Bird, then over the snowy slopes of Terror, and the dissipating sea ice, to reach our destination.

Our first sight of Cape Crozier was the Adélie penguin rookery.  This is one of the largest in the world, where upwards of 250,000 penguins congregate to make the next generation of penguins every year.  I had not seen a penguin yet, and though my eyeballs were pointed directly at them, I was too far up to see any now, but their presence is evident in the vast, vast amount of light brown penguin poo.

On this side of Ross Island, the ice shelf is unimpeded by smaller islands or awkward quirks of geology as it is around McMurdo.  As it grinds around the corner, here, it crinkles, and then as it straightens out again, the crinkles break, and the ice lets in long fingers of sea, which freezes during the winter.  It is on these frozen fingers, sheltered from the worst of the blizzards by the taller segments of Ice Shelf, that the Emperor penguins incubate their eggs through the Antarctic winter.

It was these finger bays that our intrepid explorers were trying to reach, but they needed to establish their base camp somewhere a little more secure, on the solid rock of Cape Crozier.  We were on our way to do the same.

The hill coming up was incredibly exciting to see, perhaps even more exciting than Observation Hill.  When the Terra Nova first arrived at Ross Island, it was not on the McMurdo side of it, but rather here, because Cape Crozier was posited to be the most sensible site for Expedition headquarters. It had been explored on the Discovery Expedition, so they knew there was permanent access to the ice shelf, and thus the road south, unlike Hut Point or Cape Royds which would be cut off by miles of open sea for half the year.  It had reliable fresh water nearby, and the Emperor penguins would be right next door.  On the day the Terra Nova arrived, though, the swell on the sea was too high to permit a landing, and when they sent out a scouting party on one of the whaleboats, they discovered no suitable landing place. So they had no choice but to make for the old familiar haunts on the other side of the island.

Now, this is so much historical trivia, except that as part of exploring my desired artistic style and putting together my grant proposal for this trip, I had drawn that scouting journey, and prominent in the scene is this very hill, with its orca eye-spot of snow.  The early explorers called it The Knoll.

This was based on a photograph taken on that day, which clearly shows The Knoll, and also that in January 1911 the ice front was a very long way back from where it is now.

As you can see, what is open water in 1911 is thick and pressured ice in my own photo from 2019.

Now, before you jump on this as proof that climate change is a lie, you may like to hear about my conversation with a scientist who has been studying the Cape Crozier Emperors for over forty years.  He said that, while usually the leading edge of the ice shelf crumbles into small icebergs, occasionally enormous chunks drift off in one go.  When they do, they take a whole generation of Emperor chicks with them, long before they are ready to swim, and that generation is lost.  There is another Emperor colony at Beaufort Island, off the north coast of Ross Island, and following a catastrophe at Cape Crozier, a lot of breeding pairs move to Beaufort, and vice versa. 

When the Crozier party arrived at the Emperor rookery in July 1911, Wilson was expecting the two thousand birds he'd seen when he visited with the Discovery, but there were only a hundred.  Therefore it is plausible that, sometime between 1903 and 1911, a very large chunk of ice had pulled away from Cape Crozier, pushing the shoreline back and scaring off the penguins.

Back to the present, now, or at least last November.  We had just passed The Knoll and were on our way to our landing site, a short walk away from the site of our penguin hunters' stone igloo.  The place they chose to call home is the thin little ridge sticking out into the mist at the left of this photo:

Here we come …

And there we are.

When the Crozier party set off on their science trip in 1911, the three men hauled two sledges for two and a half weeks, through deep soft snow and temperatures that broke known records – down to -77°F one night, according to the thermometer slung under the sledge.  The transcendent misery of marching in frozen clothes, not being able to get proper sleep for the shivering, and burning their precious fuel through the night just to survive, is carved deep in Cherry's writing of the experience.  To say it was hellish is no exaggeration: Cherry points out that Dante put the circle of ice below the circles of fire in his Inferno, and thought it was apropos.  The greatest challenge of our own journey out was landing the helicopter: given the sensitive environment and the fragile lichens, there was a specific landing site that was supposed to be marked out with stones.  Our pilot circled once to find it, and came back around because he couldn't spot it the first time, then finally landed right on the GPS waymark because there was no visible clue where the actual site was supposed to be.  As difficulties go, it hardly bears mention.  Whether we'd earned it or not, however, we were there.

[beastars-takes]

Zootopia Takes: Darker’s Not Better

The Shock Collar Draft

So, it sounds like people are largely positive on me doing some Zootopia posts on this blog, and I wanted to talk about this tweet I saw the other day:

I’ll punt on explaining why Beastars isn’t “Dark Zootopia”--that’s a great topic for another post. But I would like to talk about why this popular yet stridently uninformed tweet is so, so wrong. Why the shock collar draft was not better, actually.

And obviously, I’m not writing several pages in reply to a single tweet--this is a take that’s been around since the movie came out, that the “original version was better.” It’s been wrong the whole time.

Let’s talk about why!

Part 1: “Because Disney”

Let’s start with this--the assumption that the film’s creators wanted to make this shock collar story and “Disney” told them to change it.

That’s not how it works.

I try to keep stuff about me out of these posts as much as possible, but just for a bit of background, I’ve worked in the animation industry for about half a decade. I know people at Disney. I have a reasonable idea of how things are there.

There is this misconception about creative industries that they’re constantly this pitched battle of wills between creative auteurs trying to make incredible art and ignorant corporate suits trying to repress them.

That can happen, especially in dysfunctional studios (and boy could I tell some stories) but Walt Disney Animation Studios is not dysfunctional. It’s one of the most autonomous and well-treated parts of the Disney Company.

The director of Zootopia, Byron Howard, isn’t an edgelord. He made Bolt and Tangled. He knows what his audience is, and he’s responsible enough not to spend a year (and millions of dollars in budget) developing a grimdark Don Bluth story that leadership would never approve. It wouldn’t just be a waste of time--he would be endangering the livelihoods of the hundreds of people working under him. Meanwhile, Disney Animation’s corporate leadership trusts their talent. They don’t generally interfere with story development because they don’t need to. Because they employ people like Byron Howard.

Howard and the other creative leads of Zootopia have said a dozen times, in interviews and documentaries, that they gave up on the shock collar idea because it wasn’t working. They’ve explained their reasoning in detail. Maybe they’re leaving out some of the story, but in general? I believe them.

But Beastars Takes, you say, maybe even if Disney didn’t force them to back away from this darker version, it still would have been better?

Part 2: Why Shock Collars Seem Good

I will say this--I completely sympathize with people who see these storyboards and scenes from earlier versions of the movie and think “this seems amazing.” It does! A lot of these drawings and shots are heartbreakingly good, in isolation.

I love these boards. They make me want to cry. I literally have this drawing framed on my wall. Believe me, I get it.

But the only reason we care this much about this alternative draft of Zootopia is that the Zootopia we got made us love this world and these characters. You know what actually made me cry?

Oh, yeah.

So let’s set aside the astonishing hubris of insisting Zootopia’s story team abandoned the “good” version of the story, when the “bad version” is the most critically-acclaimed Disney animated feature in the past SIXTY YEARS.

“But Beastars Takes!” I hear you say. “Critics are idiots and just because something’s popular doesn’t make it good!”

Fair enough. Let’s talk about why the real movie is better.

Part 3: The Message (it is, in fact, like a jungle sometimes)

This type of thing is always hard to discuss, in the main--a lot of people don’t want to feel criticized or “called out” by the entertainment they consume, and they don’t want to be asked to think about their moral responsibilities. But it’s hard to deny that Zootopia is a movie with a strong point of view. Everything else--the characters, the worldbuilding, the plot, grows out from the movie’s central statement about bias.

And the movie we got, with no shock collars, makes that statement far more effectively.

To dive into the full scope of Zootopia’s worldview and politics (warts and all) would be a whole post on its own, so I’ll just summarize the key point of relevance here:

Zootopia's moral message is that you, the viewer, need to confront your own biases. Not yell at someone else. No matter how much of a good or progressive person you consider yourself to be--if you want to stand against prejudice you have to start with yourself.

That’s a tough sell! For that message to land, we need to see ourselves in the protagonist.

Judy’s a good person! She argues with her dad about foxes. She knows predators aren’t all dangerous. She’s not speciesist. Right?

Ah fuck.

Let’s fast-forward to the pivotal scene of this movie. In an unfortunate but inevitable confluence of circumstances, Judy’s own biases and prejudiced assumptions come out, and she shits the bad.

Nick, who’s already bared his soul to her (against his better instincts), is heartbroken. But not as heartbroken as he is a minute later when he tries to confront her about what she’s said, and she makes this face:

Whaaaat? Come on, Nick. I’m a good person. Why are you giving me a hard time?

People like to complain about this scene. That it’s a hackneyed “misunderstanding” trope that could be easily resolved with a discussion. They’re wrong. Nick tries to have a discussion. She blows him off.

This isn’t Judy acting out of character, this is her character. Someone who identifies as Not A Racist, and hasn’t given the issue any more thought. This is not only completely believable characterization (who hasn’t seen someone react this way when you told them they hurt you?) it’s the film’s central thesis!

Yes, Nick somewhat provokes her into reaching for her “fox spray,” and her own trauma factors in there, but she’s already made her fatal mistake before that happens.

(As an aside, people also make the criticism that the movie unrealistically deflects responsibility for racism onto Bellwether and her plot. It doesn’t. All the key expressions of prejudice in the film--Judy’s encounter with Gideon, her parents’ warnings, the elephant in the ice cream shop, Judy’s early encounters with Bogo, Judy's views on race science--exist largely outside of Bellwether’s influence. She is a demagogue who inflames existing tensions, she didn’t invent them. Bogo literally says “the world has always been broken.”)

So, anyway. But we love Judy. She’s an angel. She also kinda sucks! She’s proudly unprejudiced, and when her own prejudice is pointed out to her she argues and doesn’t take it seriously. This is bad, but it’s also a very human reaction. It’s one most of us have probably been guilty of at one point or another.

Look at Zootopia’s society, too--it’s shiny and cosmopolitan, seemingly idyllic. Anyone can be anything, on paper. But scratch too deep beneath the surface and there’s a lot of pain and resentment here, things nobody respectable would say in public but come out behind closed doors, or among family, when nobody’s watching. It’s entirely recognizable--at least to me, someone who lives in a large liberal city in the United States. Like Byron Howard.

Wow, this place is a paradise!

Wait, what’s a “NIMBY”?

Part 4: Why Shock Collars Are Bad

So, with the film’s conceit established, let’s circle back to the shock collar idea. Like I said, it’s heartbreaking. It’s dramatic. It’s affective.

It also teaches us nothing.

If I see a movie where predator animals are subjected to 24/7 electroshock therapy, I don’t think “wow, this makes me want to think about how I could do better by the people around me.” I think “damn that shit’s crazy lmao. that’d be fucked up if that happened.” At a stretch, it reminds me of something like the Jim Crow era, or the Shoah. You know, stuff in the Past. Stuff we’ve all decided couldn’t ever happen again, so why worry about it?

The directors have said this exact thing, just politely. “It didn’t feel contemporary,” they say in pressers. That’s what it means.

If anything, the shock collar draft reifies the mindset that Zootopia is trying to reject--it shows us that discrimination is blatant, and dramatic, and flagrantly cruel, and impossible to miss.

And...that’s not true. If you only look for bias at its most malicious and evil, you’re going to miss the other 95 percent.

The messaging of this “darker version” is--ironically--less mature, less insightful, less intelligent. Less useful. Darker’s not better.

Part 5: Why Shock Collars Are Still Bad

So what if you don’t care about the message? What if you have no interest in self-reflection, or critical analysis (why are you reading this blog then lmao)? What if you just really want to hear a fun story about talking animals?

Well, this is trickier, because the remaining reasons are pretty subjective and emotional.

The creators have said that the shock collar version didn’t work because the viewers hated the cruel world they’d created. They agreed with Nick--the city was beyond saving. They didn’t want to save it.

The creators have said that Judy was hard to sympathize with, not being able to recognize the shock collars for the obvious cruelty they were.

Fuck you, Judy!

But we haven’t seen the draft copies. We haven’t watched the animatics. We have to take their word for it. Anyone who’s sufficiently invested in this story is going to say “well, I disagree with them.” It doesn’t matter to them that they haven’t seen the draft and the filmmakers have. The movie they’ve imagined is great and nobody is going to convince them otherwise.

But the fact remains that the shock collar movie, as written, did not work. And, if behind the scenes material is to be believed, it continued to not work after months and months of story doctoring.

There’s even been a webcomic made out of the dystopian version of Zootopia. It’s clever and creative and well-written and entertaining and...it kind of falls apart. The creator, after more than a little shit-talk directed at Disney, abandoned the story before reaching the conclusion, but even before then the seams were beginning to show. How do you take a society that’s okay with electrocuting cute animals and bring it to a point of cathartic redemption? You can’t, really. The story doesn’t work.

Does that mean people shouldn’t make fanworks out of the cut material? That they shouldn’t be inspired and excited by it? Hell no. This drawing is cute as hell. The ideas are compelling.

But I suppose what I’d ask of you all is--if you’re weighing the hot takes of art students on Twitter against the explanations of veteran filmmakers, consider that the latter group might actually know what they’re talking about.

See you next time!

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Don't Leave Me Now

Part 20

So funny thing, I had this chapter 90% finished at the beginning of last weekend and planned on having it out by then. Instead I got horrifically sick AGAIN. I hate January through February. I either stay consistently sick or contract acute bronchitis. There are no exceptions.

Anyways, there's probably only four chapters left of this story, if that. So hopefully I'll get those out faster without so many pauses between. As always, thank you for your patience and support.

CLOSED LIST of ridiculously nice and patient people: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @emjrabbitwolf @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Barbara knocked on their door at eleven on the dot, rolling in and immediately greeting Tim, who laid across the couch where he'd spent the night until they could find a more permanent sleeping situation. Jason stood frozen in the doorway to the bedroom, barely registering as Mari came up behind him from the bathroom only to stop dead as well.

"Hey Jay. Been a while, hasn't it?" Babs spoke with a strained smile, tears glittering in the corners of her eyes.

He saw Tim dart his eyes back and forth between the two before a startled expression stretched across his features, turning back towards him and Mari, the latter gripping tightly to the back of his shirt, "You were gone before the incident."

"What incident?" Mari growled out behind him, hands clawing at his back in agitation until his hand reached back for her own, in which she immediately adjusted to hold on.

"The Joker. He captured me not long after you died. I hear someone took care of that though?" She rolled closer from her wheelchair, and wasn't Jason just so grateful his soulmate chose an accessible complex. Exhaling a shaky breath, he moved forward to give her a hug.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's gone now."

…

The four of them sat together for an hour, discussing what had happened to them all, Tim staying mostly quiet about his own past, but cutting in to help Barbara along with her story at times. Damian stayed away in his room, tuckered out socially from the last few days and deciding today would be dedicated to drawing in his room away from prying eyes. Occasionally he ventured out to get a drink or check on them, but otherwise kept away.

As time seemed to pass and Babs reacquainted herself to the two, finally understanding why Alfred use to treat Jason like two seperate people at times, the boy to Jason's left slowly seem to slouch in his seat. Apparently the ease in which they interacted with someone he trusted helped them into the teen's better graces. When the teen came to rest on folded arms and fell into a doze, he considered this an appropriate time to ask, "How often does he get sleep? I know for a fact he didn't get any last night."

"He's a work in progress on the sleep front. Never had anyone to force a sleep schedule on him so he's been awake most nights."

"You mean?" Mari asked.

"Absentee parents. Gone now, but just not present when he was growing up. Between the neglect and lack of praise, he's got a bit of a complex. Stays up even more since he's been with Bruce."

"I wonder how much he'd hate being kept to a more rigorous schedule," Mari wondered.

"Well, it couldn't hurt to try. You seem pretty good at using logic to force him into seeing your way and with how he's been acting since we found him, that's likely what he'll respond to," he stood up and made his way closer to the sleeping figure, "I'm going to lay him up in our bed, hopefully he'll take a while to wake up."

With that, he wrapped tucked an arm under legs and tilted Tim carefully into his chest in a bridal carry. The second he lifted, the teen jerked awake, attempting to escape his hold that had tightened to keep him steady. 

"Yo, Tim, knock it off," he half growled as he avoided another flailed limb only to relax when the smaller one went still, eyes training on him.

"What… Why are you carrying me?"

"You fell asleep on the table. Just getting you somewhere more comfy. Relax birdy, I'll set you down in a second," Jason relayed, continuing into the main bedroom, ignoring the watchful look from behind as he sat Tim down into the bed, "Just go back to sleep, we'll wake you up to say goodbye to Babs before she leaves," he called over his shoulder, leaving the door open behind him so that the cautious Robin could keep track of them and listen in enough to calm once more.

"You're taking this a lot better than I would expect," Barbara commented as he rejoined them around the counter.

"Which part?"

"Being replaced."

"I wouldn't say we took it well, per say. We did go after Bruce a little and launch him across the sky," Mari cut in quietly, sipping from her mug.

"Well yeah, there's that," she chuckled, "but I was speaking more towards your reaction towards Tim specifically."

"It's not like it's his fault Bruce doesn't know when enough is enough. I get that Tim sought the position himself, but that doesn't take the responsibility off of Bruce's shoulders. I'm not going to hold that over his head, especially considering he was, what, twelve? Thirteen when he became Robin? Just a kid. I doubt his intentions were so dark as to want to replace a dead boy."

"Thirteen, yeah. He's fifteen now, but he seems so much older and yet so much younger at times. It's strange," Babs responded, looking towards where she knew Tim lay awake, listening.

"We were all forced to grow up too fast. It's insane to think we're only two years older than him. I feel ancient and yet he looks so young."

"You still look young yourself."

"Oh shut up, you know what I meant."

"What do you plan to do with him?" Babs asked carefully, looking towards Mari more than himself.

"Nothing," he responded for her.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," he offered a small grimace, "If he'd like to stay with us, we'll take him in, but that's up to him. We're not going to push him to do something just because we deem it the right thing to do."

"Hmm, I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Out of his peripheral, he took satisfaction at seeing Tim finally settle fully into the bed, slowly drifting back to sleep.

…

Three nights passed when Tim overstepped an unknown boundary. In hindsight, it should have been obvious, if not expected to happen. The innocence in the act only made it all the worse for those involved. 

Everyone knew Tim never slept proper hours. The other occupants, however, tried to keep relatively normal hours if only for the sake of the youngest, who needed a consistent schedule. Tim assumed the others to sleep lightly if at all, considering all of their pasts. In a way, they proved him right.

Marinette heard a whisper in the night, pulling her from her slumber and into full, rigid consciousness. That was not Damian.

It ghosted softly across the floor, picking its way over to her side where she could almost feel the soft breath it released near to her face. Had it not been for her training, the sounds and air pressure change would never even occur to her. As it was, she felt her muscles coil tight as a spring, keeping everything still so as not to give herself away. When the hand descended towards her shoulder, she grabbed the thin wrist and twisted it down, forcing the body to kneel bedside with the captured arm atop the bed as she launched herself behind him and yanked a dagger from under her pillow tight across his throat, not enough to cut, but enough to get the warning across. 

Move and you die.

The person cleared their throat a few times and called up tentatively to her bedmate, who sat up the moment they moved, "Jason?"

Jason jumped up immediately and gripped large, callused hands about her shoulders, ducking his lips near her ear, "Mari? Bit of a hostile hold you got on Tim there. Mind loosening it up?"

Snapping into focus once more, she took in her captive, seeing the thin frame and silky black locks, the slight fearful tinge to icy blues. Marinette couldn't help but scramble back into Jason's arms, dropping the dagger and kicking it across the room. Tim turned slowly, eyes meeting her own in a wary stare.

"I'm so sorry, Tim, I didn't even recognize you and I- that's. That's no excuse. I'm so very sorry I hurt you, you don't deserve to deal with that," she felt her body shake, eyes watering in the corners as she felt arms tighten around her.

"Are you okay? Did you need something?" Jason inquired in a deep soothing voice, eyes trained on the teen before them.

"I'm fine. It was nothing, I'll leave you be. Sorry I came in without permission," he stated calmly, ice blues not betraying anything.

"It's alright. If you need something at night, approach me, yeah? Less jumpy."

His eyes flashed before her with something, maybe surprise, before shutting off again, "of course. I'm going to move now," Tim directed at her, making her flinch, but nod slightly.

He picked his way around the edge of the room, closing the door behind him. Marinette slumped into Jason's chest, "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"Not your fault, buttercup. It'll probably be a set back, but there's not a thing you could do bout your gut instincts."

The next morning, Tim was gone.

…

A week passed before he reappeared.

They heard from Barbara that he stayed at her place for a few of the days, traveling on others, but never returned to the Manor. When he showed up, his lips gave a sheepish little smile, eyes squinting ever so slightly and shoulders tense as Damian answered the door for him.

"Ugh, the stray is back," Damian stared up at him, narrow eyed at the boy who upset his Mari. When Tim didn't move, the kid's lip curled up, "Well get in already," he prompted, watching Tim enter and closing the door behind him.

Marinette kept quiet as Jason and her prepared dinner, exchanging glances and coming to a decision wirelessly as they placed down a fourth plate. When they all sat about the table, Tim hesitated by his chair, a confused twist to his lips.

"You don't have to eat if you're not hungry, but I would like if you sat with us," Marinette addressed him, with enough reassurance on her voice and apology in her eyes to convince him to sit down and tuck in to the meal they set before him. As the other three talked, listening whenever he decided to speak up or moving on when he seemed uncomfortable with a topic, they watched as Tim's shoulders slowly relaxed, forearms no longer pressing into the table, fists delicately cradling his fork instead of in fists around the metal. Marinette couldn't be sure what changed his mind and made him come back, but Jason had a hunch.

Dinner ended with Tim asking to stay the night. One night turned into many.

…

On his fourth night, Marinette and Jason woke to the sounds of hushed voices outside their door.

"Don't go in, she won't recognize you in sleep. It's dangerous."

"Of course she is dangerous in her sleep. She was trained to assume any approaching unknown is set to attack and kill. She will not attack me. Let go."

"She didn't even recognize me, you're going to get yourself killed."

"Did you go to her before in her room? Make yourself familiar at a time she wasn't sleeping?"

There was silence for a long while, until finally a hushed response, "Her subconscious mind sees me as an unknown. I haven't really leaned one way or the other to them while awake either. Of course neither of them would take well to me coming into their sanctuary while they're vulnerable. You're their kid, I'm just a flighty presence until I tell them otherwise." 

At this point, Damian opened the door, casting a look back at Tim as he walked up to her and climbed up between the two and snuggling into her waiting arms.

She met eyes with Tim over Damian's head, sure that Jason was doing the same. The teen had a contemplative look, before pained understanding dawned upon his features. He nodded to them and closed the door. They could hear him shuffle back over to the couch, settling down into it. 

Soon. 

Whether anyone was ready for it or not, Tim would make his decision soon, and they all knew it.

[seonlite]

♡ hello all !! i’m rini ( s/h, 18+ ) & this is seonmi, starden’s local e girl food & fashion critic, as well as the twin island gazette’s lifestyle editor !! she’s a newcomer to the island but absolutely full of love & many, many opinions. plus, she lives in starden & works at eastbell, so you’re bound to run into her somewhere !! here’s her pages  ( stats ; bio/personality ; plots )  & under the cut you’ll find a tldr & some plot bunnies !! drop a ♡ if you’d want me to slide in ur ims, but if u prefer, i have discord too ~

— ☆  quick facts : 

seoul city baby !! city girl through & through, though she’s making a brave attempt to adjust to life in the islands

rich kid who didn’t wanna inherit the company ( business ? what’s that ? oh look, new birkins ! ) & was lucky enough that her parents decided to support her ( after some very pointed incompetency )

started out as a small fashion channel which grew pretty big. she was known for her bubbly but snarky reviews & the expensive items she featured

unfortunately, social media didn’t really translate into high fashion. she got criticised for not earning her place & selling out when she started doing critique more professionally

well-meaning concerns turned quite quickly into vitriolic hate & she took a break from fashion blogging ... to food blogging !!

keeping her personal life out of this new venture really helped her to regain her footing & confidence, giving her that boost to start anew & on her own — in starden !!

setting her roots down on the islands, she started her personal food & fashion critic website, as well as working at the gazette as their lifestyle editor, dabbling in everything else ( music, art, travel !! )

although her brand is built on the finer things in life, she’s still a gen z kid who definitely had an emo phase !! may or may not have a ~secret tiktok~, who knows

seonmi’s kind of a bubbly ditz, way too optimistic with no tact, cute & she knows it !! gets a lil flirty sometimes, she can’t help it, romance is just always on her mind ...

total social butterfly, she’s got no problem meeting people & making friends, but getting close to them ? she hasn’t really hacked it yet :c

to closer friends, her snark & stubbornness are much more evident. self-deprecating jokes are out, self-conceited jokes are in !!

hates being looked down on ( literally >:/ ) but she takes it a bit too far & has a bad habit of little white lies to make herself sound fancier

she can come off self-absorbed, the type to talk about herself while trying to empathise but she’s trying to be more open-minded & a better listener !!

well-meaning & a work in progress, we’re getting there ♡

— ☆  plots ft. song vibes :

next door neighbours ( starden ) whose windows face each other & they communicate you belong with me style, holding up notes through their windows

who advertises for a roommate ( starden ) with must be cute! can do chores! & no rent ? this dummy, but she swears it’s really not a scam !!

fellow emos who will start crying when the g note hits … hit her up

fashion enthusiasts or muses !! her personal blog has an on the streets feature that ur muse is a permanent regular of

she makes the half hour trip between islands twice daily, so she’s definitely in need of a travel buddy / friend at the docks !!

coffee fiends who go on regular coffee dates !! her goal is to try everything on the menu but cappuccinos are still her first love, what about you ?

makeover to the tune of popular, because she thinks ur muse is absolutely tragic

tol to her smol ( but don’t actually say that to her or she’ll break ur kneecaps ) with a little lot of salt sprinkled into their interactions

someone who usually stops her from floating off into the clouds, but it’s starting to take a toll on them, no more !!

she’s naturally flirty & it’s sending this person mixed signals, oh no !! ( maybe they’re vibing, maybe they like her, maybe they’re resolutely dodging her attempts for a kiss ? )

if anyone’s from seoul ? any kind of connection from her past ( friends, enemies, exes, flings ) would be wonderful !!

reader of the gazette’s lifestyle column who has Some Opinions on her opinions

or, past reader of her previous attempts at fashion or food critique : do they recognise her ? do they still like her stuff ? what do they think about the turn her career’s made ?

her latest flash in the pan crush who might not be fading that fast ? what is this, reciprocated feelings ? unreal !!

[furidojasutin]

Title: Buddy talk

Pairing: Grayke (Gray x Loke)

Universe: Modern AU

Rating: K+

a/n: This is my entry for the Fairy Tail Reverse Big Bang hosted by @ftguildevents​ ! I was super happy to get to work with the beautiful @rougearts who also made me see the appeal in this ship, actually! You can find her art piece over here --> https://rougearts.tumblr.com/post/628531912470937601/i-am-not-against-shoving-you-off-this-bed-loke  . Make sure to give her work lots of love and follow her on all her blogs, too!! Her writing is amazing and so is her art. 💓 This event was such an amazing idea tbh, so thanks to everyone who helped hosting it and everyone who participated <3

“Ta-da!”

“Wow.” Even if Gray ignored Loke's smugly shimmering eyes, there was a lot to take in. The modern dining table was completely laid. Despite the comparably small surface of the table, there was plenty of different stuff to eat and he'd also spotted the various kinds of bottles near the kitchen counter. The kitchen counter itself? It wasn't as much of a mess as Gray had assumed it would be. After all this time of being friends with Loke, he was still unable to tell if that ginger was more of a clean person or a messy person. Perhaps it depended on the exact situation, really.

“Wow? That's your only reaction? I put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this.”

“Sounds kinda gross, if you ask me,” Gray deadpanned but couldn't help but smile a little when he saw his friend's play-acted offended face.

“Well,” Loke countered, “I've always known that you never had keen eye for things that deserve true appreciation, so I can only feel bad for you I guess.” With a slightly dramatic gesture he left Gray's side to fetch them both a glass from the cupboard.

“Sure, whatever you say, man.” He watched Loke with a shrug, the tiniest curve still not disappeared on his face. Of course he appreciated the effort, he really did. Perhaps he wasn't the best at showing his gratitude most of the time, so he was glad that Loke understood him without him having to say much.

His gaze swerved over the full display of food bowls and the... Wait.

“You prepared all of this yourself?”

Loke froze in his movement for a second and Gray almost missed the hesitation. Almost. When his friend turned around with a glass in each of his hands, he shot a lopsided grin towards Gray. “Weeeell..... Not all of it.”

Gray knew exactly where this was going. “What did you prepare yourself?”

With a roll of his shoulders Loke smoothly turned his back on him to pour them both a glass of wine. “This and that... I toasted the bread and cooked the eggs and-”

“You ordered the rest of the meal.”

“Got me there.”

Even so, starting off the evening with a meal and wine was a very good idea. It was pretty decent wine, too. Before Gray knew it he had already emptied two glasses. They hadn't planned on getting drunk but then again, they hadn't planned out anything really so this night could go anywhere.

Or, almost anywhere.

After they cleaned up they decided to move over to Loke's couch and watch some shitty night tv channel. This channel seriously never disappointed them – there was always something dumb to comment on and make fun about and Gray caught himself laughing at more of Loke's stupid jokes than he wanted to admit. It had always been this way.

The night progressed very fast and it was an absolutely good time. Everything was so easy when he was around Loke. Silly and chill. Gray felt relaxed.

And perhaps it was the bottle of wine that they had killed together (though Gray felt a very tiny buzz at most), but there was something so warm and good about Loke and him just chilling on his bed together and talking about random stuff before sleep would get to them. There was nothing weird about them sharing this bed, nothing weird about two half-naked guys right next to each other and sharing their thoughts.

Until Loke thought that it was a good idea to bring that topic into focus.

“Why again are we talking about this?” Gray averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling instead. He made an effort to sound annoyed but something told him that it wouldn't be so easy to distract Loke from his intention. Ugh... He really didn't like talking about this kinda stuff. And perhaps one of the reasons for this circumstance was right beside him...

“Because you're one of my best friends. And because I'm very curious.” Loke rolled onto his side. “I know all about Cana's love life and-”

“It's not like she has ever tried to make a secret out of it. She's a very blunt person. She loves telling us juicy new information involving her newest crush and so on,” Gray tried to counter.

Without much success.

“I want to know more about your love life, though. We've been buddies for so long and I know that you're not much of a talker, but c'mon. There's got to be somebody, right?”

Something about Loke's tone of voice had changed, but he wasn't able to pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe there was a tad bit less amusement in it, or perhaps he just sounded more serious.

Gray frowned. He still didn't really feel like talking about this. Yea, he'd much rather change the subject. Besides, there wasn't much to tell anyway...

“Okay.” Loke tried again after a moment of silence. Did he realize that he wasn't gonna say much, even if he begged him to? “If you don't want to tell me any stories yourself, how about I ask what I'm curious about and you answer?” A short pause. “Or not-,” Loke added quickly. “If you don't want to.”

So he still wanted to hold onto this topic. And Gray really wondered why. Perhaps it was the wine that they both had consumed and the fact that they were chilling on Loke's bed, comfortable with blanket and pillows and a crappy reality tv series playing in the background still.

With a sigh, Gray decided that he would agree. For as long as he could bear it. “Alright, fine.”

How could he mentally prepare himself for the questions that might come for him? He probably couldn't.

“Okaaay...,” Loke shifted to lie on his back as well and focused on the ceiling, just like Gray. “I know that your relationship with Juvia didn't work out. But I never actually asked if it was you breaking up with her or the other way round. So what was up with that? She's a sweet woman.”

Gray frowned at that. He should have expected Juvia to be the first person to be brought up but he still felt unprepared. On the other hand, it wasn't too hard talking about her, because... “We kinda both did it? It was weird. I think we both just got carried away and didn't realize from the start that we had different feelings for each other that weren't romantic love, you know? We care for each other a lot, just not... in that kinda way. And we're fine with that.” He couldn't believe that the words were just spouting from his mouth like that and that, actually, it wasn't too difficult to talk about it either.

For so long he had always just lived with the perception that he had to hide away his true feelings from anybody. As time went by and he made his true friends, he learned to let go of this perception step by step, but romantic love was a topic that he had barely ever approached up until now. At least when he himself was involved.

“Huh, alright. Totally get that. I mean, you guys are still good friends, right? I haven't seen her in a while.”

“Yea. She's got a new job and it's pretty busy. Didn't Cana meet her last week?” Gray mused loudly.

“No idea,” Loke shrugged before a small grin appeared on his face. “Talking about Cana... Did you ever have the hots for her?”

Now, that was a question Gray had to grimace it. It wasn't because Cana wasn't an amazing woman or didn't look great, but... Their relationship had really turned out to be one between a brother and a sister. They had fun together, she was game for anything and sometimes they annoyed each other just to hang out again not long after.

Of course he knew why Loke was asking. All three of them were pretty close after all. Loke had even been Cana's boyfriend for a short while before they cut it off again, all without any hard feelings. Gray had always admired this casualty a bit.

And Cana and himself? She had been his first kiss... Ah, yea.

“No, not really, I guess...,” he ended up muttering and scratched his nose in a sense of awkwardness. “She's really been more like a sister all this time and I don't think that's gonna change.”

“And that kiss?”

Yea, yea, yea... “That was... just curiosity. We were kids, kids are curious.” Gray still couldn't say it without feeling even more awkward.

Luckily, Loke seemed content enough with this answer and when Gray dared to turn his head so he could catch a glimpse of Loke's face, he spotted the small smile. Was it amusement? Was it happiness? He was unable to figure it out. Maybe it wasn't important.

“Fact is, she's amazing. And we'd definitely miss her in our squad, right?”

Now that was something Gray could agree with without hesitating a single second. “For sure.”

“Okay, so what about Natsu?”

Loke was facing him again now and he actually had to laugh out loud at the face Gray pulled once the question had slipped past his lips. The sound of it made Gray's heart jump but the absurdity of the suggestion was in the forefront of his mind. Natsu? Never in a million years! “Do you still need an answer?” He asked, mumbling and still with a grimace. “Besides, he's with Lucy. Lucy can deal with his hot-tempered ass. Sometimes I feel really sorry for her.”

His best friend had a hard time suppressing his chuckles. “I mean, you two act like an old married couple sometimes. It would be cute as well – if it wasn't for you wanting to bash each other's head in on a regular basis.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Oh, kinky Fullbuster is here.”

“Shut up!”

It was over, Loke was laughing and rolled around on the bed until he almost pushed Gray off the edge. He could be worked up about Loke asking if he had a thing for Natsu, or he could let himself get infected by his friend's laughter, ignoring the soft warmth in his cheeks. He didn't hate Natsu and Natsu didn't hate him. Honestly, they'd probably help each other out of the biggest problems and be there for each other but the bond they had was still more like a... love-hate thing? It was hard to imagine a life without Natsu in it but sometimes he just wanted to throw him into the nearest trash can.

Oh well... The second option won out anyway. At this point it was impossible not to give a laughter of his own and with a quiet, playful curse on his lips he pushed Loke away again so he wouldn't end up falling off the bed after all.

“Calm down man, it wasn't that funny,” he argued and huffed, a not so secret smile on his face, though.

It took another moment for Loke to calm down but eventually he just wiped a single tear off his face and then he was ready to proceed.

Gray had hoped that he was done.

“Okay, okay, okay...” The ginger placed a finger on his lips, looking as though he was thinking hard. Gray didn't trust any of it. How was he still not done? “What about Erza?”

“She's just a good friend.” Although, and that was something he had never told anybody really, he's had a small crush on her years ago. Years ago, really.

“Fine. She's a very impressive woman, though, damn. If she wasn't part of our friendship group I'd be so intimidated.”

“Yea.”

Gray knew that they still were pretty intimidated by her sometimes, though. They just didn't like to admit it.

“Mirajane?”

“Dude, she's a lesbian.”

“The women of this world are very lucky.” Loke sighed and placed the hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling again. “Levy? No wait, she's taken, too. No surprise, she's cute and smart.”

“So don't ask me about Gajeel.” He was almost getting used to these casual suggestions now.

“Right, right. Freed?”

“He's engaged with Laxus, remember?”

“Sure, sure. Two more attractive dudes off the market.” Loke waved him off, but the grin had returned. “Maybe I'm just trying to be nosy and find out what kinda guys you like... And girls. But I'm more curious about the guys.”

And Gray hated how fast this false feeling of casualty disappeared again. It flew right out of the window. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his friend grinning at him and he couldn't handle it right now. He just hoped that his reaction wasn't too obvious and that the warmth tingling in his body was to blame on the remains of the wine (even though they really hadn't drunken much). Harrumphing quietly, he decided to fake-stretch himself and then roll onto his side. “I don't have a type. Are you done, then? I'm kinda tired, seriously.”

Gray wanted to hit himself because of this obvious sounding lie. How more obvious could he be?! Still, the tiny, naive spark of hope that Loke would buy it and just leave it be was there and he felt tense when he awaited his friend's response. It was really late, so that was no lie at least. Late, early? It was starting to get light again outside anyway.

Wow, had they really been talking for so long?! The tv was still on, too, but he hadn't been paying attention to it anymore at all.

“No type?”

He felt Loke shifting and so he decided to fake a yawn. “No, I don't think I have one.”

“Huh, okay, I get it.” Loke was looking over Gray's shoulder, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. Intently he averted his eyes and just stared at Loke's wardrobe, still lying on his side. For a second he thought that Loke was done, but then- “Except that I don't get it. I mean, you only have to take a look at this charming face of mine and you'll be sold.”

More heat seeped into Gray's cheeks immediately and he really, really wanted to blame it on the alcohol again. Was Loke trying to flirt? Was he just being Loke? He could never be too sure about it... There was no way that Loke was seriously having any interest in him like... that, right? Fuck.

He knew that he shouldn't turn his head and look, because that was exactly what his friend wanted him to do. He knew he would be doomed and his heart would make that kind of jump again and make him feel stupid, but...

Turning, with Loke half-hovering above him, he looked straight at him and Loke immediately intensified his stupidly charming grin.

“See? Hooked yet? Nobody can resist this beautiful face.”

There was so much Gray wanted to do, but would never dare to. There were so many thoughts in his head that he wasn't anywhere near ready to voice yet. Loke's illegally suave grin, the colored light of the sunrise beginning to stream through the window, their closeness, the flirty atmosphere...

But it was just them being bros. It had always been this way.

Or had it not?

When had his stupid heart begun to make such a ruckus about Loke? And was there the smallest chance of Loke feeling the same?

Fuck. He hated the conflict this man threw him into and yet, at the same time, he wouldn't want to miss these evenings. Not a single one of them.

And before he even took note of it, he was having a lopsided grin of his own, with the most stupid little hope somewhere in his heart. “Pfft, sure. Try again, man.”

“Oh you know I'm an enthusiastic pursuer of my goals,” Loke countered and adjusted his non-existent tie in a silly way.

“I don't mind', Gray thought to himself and when catching this thought of his he just waved his friend off again and huffed before turning his back on the ginger. With a smile sneaking its way onto his face, he muttered.

“Night, you idiot.”

“Hey, I wasn't done yet,” came the silly complaint from behind him and before Gray knew it, Loke had flopped on top of him. How could he have been so naive to think that a simple 'good night' would shut his friend up? It wasn't like he had a huge issue with Loke flopping onto him, but part of him had and... it wasn't exactly helping his case and all the thoughts he's had around it.

“You can't just turn your back on me like that. What point are you trying to prove? I'm irresistable. And if you're really going to try and escape this simple reality, you've got to try harder than that! Worshiping the beauty that is me is inevitable, Gray.”

Gray knew all too well that Loke could just go on like this forever. At least it hadn't reached the point of him becoming ridiculously poetic about himself yet, although the thought made him want to shake his head and roll his eyes in fondness. Still, he really wanted to sleep. Or perhaps calm down and shut off his brain for now.

So he just tried to shrug Loke off with a huff and grumbled. “I swear, I'll throw you off this bed if I have to.”

“You would yeet me off my own bed?!” A surprise gasp.

“Yea. Yea, I would.”

It was definitely worth it because he finally seemed to get through to his friend and, perhaps more importantly, he got more of Loke's warm laughter before he felt how said man retreated and made himself comfortable without sprawling across him.

“Fine, fine. I don't wanna get yeeted anywhere today, so sleep well, have sweet dreams and all that.”

The chuckle in Loke's voice faded away with his words and then it was quiet.

In this silence and while closing his eyes, Gray decided that Loke's laughter and the sound of his voice definitely weren't the worst things to hear last before falling asleep and that the knowledge of him beside him and the warmth radiating from his body were a kind of comfort that he would like to get used to, like to have and to keep.

[smarti-at-smogwarts]

First Year Profile

Taking a page from the lovely @carewyncromwell​ who’s the blog that introduced me  to HPHM and encouraged me to play. 

While I’m still in year one [ im trying to catch up as fast as possible T-T] I wanted to jot some stuff down about my MC and  maybe have ppl meet her. 

There’s stuff missing but that will be added as I progress through the game. 

[ Image ID close up of a girl with shoulder lenght brown hair, a round nose, and blue eyes. She’s smiling at the camera. End ID]

NAME | Marta Beatrice Venturi

NICKNAMES | Marti -Goes by that everywhere, actually doesn’t like her full name, and only gets called it when she’s in trouble-. Smarti [ Jacob called her this. Off limits] Munchkin [ her dad] Venturi. [ Snape and Merulla] 

Pronouns | She/Her 

ORIENTATION | Bi

[PERSONALITY] Marti is a bit capricious due  to being the baby of her family and tends to want things to go her way. She’s a bit mischievous because of this and can be rather childish though also very playful and sweet for the same reason. She is also incredibly empathetic and always there for her friends, becoming very protective of them. She’s highly social and outgoing often known for befriending people at the drop of a hat. Despite this first impressions tend to stick to her and once she makes up her mind about you it can take a lot for her to change it. [ ie both Snape and Merula are already in a bad light for her after one meeting with each while both Flitwick and Hagrid are in a good light.] 

She’s very protective of and tries to do right by those she considers friends and can be highly protective of them. 

[Image ID; Marti standing between a girl with dark skin, ling black hair and glasses [ her friend Rowan] and a girl with  short brown hair. The text reads under her ‘’get away from her’ End ID]

Jacob is her berserk button as she loves him dearly and still hasn’t let him go. Anyone talking badly about him instantly goes on her sh-t list and will cause her to lose her temper.  

[Image ID- Marti looking angry as a text box below him reads ‘’expelling him was completely unfair; and it was just as wrong of him to run away without telling. End ID]

[BIOGRAPHY]

Marti is the third child of Abigail Rowle and George Venturi. Both purebloods. They had two boys before her, Jacob [ ten years older than Marti] and Edwin [ four years older than Marti]. Most of Marti’s early memories include her family either together or separately and are good ones.  She was specially close to her oldest brother as he often babied her and had a soft spot for her. 

There was a rough patch when Abigail and George after months of arguments and the relationship being rocky, separated. However, Marti was both too young and sheltered by both her brothers for it to affect her too much.  Their father, a wizard world attorney, kept full custody of the three of them which Abigail was okay with.

Raising three kids was a handful for George and while he tried his best and the family was very loving [ with all three Venturi kids being unequivocally Daddy’s Girl/Boys] there were a lot of times when Jacob and even Edwin eventually  picked up the slack. Being the baby, Marti was coddled and never wanted for much attention not in the very least because while Jacob tried to not have favorites between his siblings he undoubtedly had a soft spot for his baby sister.[ not that Edwin ever begrudged her this. ]  

While Jacob went to Hogwarts when Marti was still really young [ which led to more than a few tantrums specially in his first year] he remained an important figure in her life and the three Venturi remained close, reuniting every break the school allowed even after Edwin joined his brother [ starting his Hogwarts career when Marti was  six ]

Unfortunately this wasn’t to last. Jacob vanished during his sixth year which sent the small family into turmoil. Edwin, who was about to start his first year, became withdrawn and sulked on his own, closing himself off to everyone including his own family. George was distraught at losing his oldest son. His relationship with Abigail became strained since they separated amicably enough but the loss of a child led them to be unable to be in the same room without assigning blame. [ though Abby still keeps her visits with her children she just..doesn’t speak to their father.]

And Marti lost her big brother.

The family grieved and eventually seemed to move on though none of them have completely let Jacob go. George still blames himself and harbors a lot of feelings of failing his son. Edwin is hugely withdrawn and refuses to speak on the matter. Marti in particular refuses to let Jacob go or give up on him returning and refuses to believe the things said about him. Jacob was and still is her hero, she had him on a pedestal before he left and still wants him to come back. Something that puts her at odds with Edwin who wants to forget and move on. 

A few years down the line, George married a muggle named Nora who herself had a magical child and a muggle one. Both Edwin and Marti took this as a sign things would get better and that the family could heal, and both were happy to have additions to the family. 

However this also added to Marti’s feelings that she was the only one who still remembered and hadn’t given up on Jacob as Edwin befriended Nora’s magical daughter [ her being the same age as him and a Hufflefpuff and the two becoming best friends as well as siblings] and her father seemed to move on with the help of his new wife.  

Because of this she even more stubbornly clung to Jacob, to the happy memories she had of him- which she seemed to be alone in as his name was tarnished- and the more the family tried to get her to give up on him coming back, the more she dug her heels in. 

Now going to Hogwarts, Marti is excited to start at the school and learn new things. She’s also determined to use the things she learns to bring her brother home someday. 

WAND |  blackthorn wand with a unicorn hair core. It is eleven-and-a-quarter inches and described as "slightly springy and flexible.

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practices the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish.

Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard.Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may 'die' and need replacing.

HOUSE | Slytherin 

[MISC]

♦  Marti loves animals especially those often not considered cute [ bats, reptiles, bugs]  and has a pet snake she left at home as she didn’t see anything about snakes being acceptable pets in the letter. She plans to ask about it at some point in her first year. Her pet snake’s name is Mickey. 

♦  Marti has 2 siblings in Hogwarts. Lizzie Mcdonald in Hufflepuff and Edwin Venturi in Ravenclaw. They don’t interact that much however due to the age gap [ they’ll graduate by the end of year 2] and the fact  that they have different social groups [ well Marti and Lizzie do. Edwin’s more a withdrawn Loner] as well as being in different houses. 

♦   This is also in part because of Marti’s own feelings of perceived exclusion. While they love her very much and don’t mean to do it, the unmistakable  synergy between her elder siblings and the friendship that immediately sparked from it often leaves Marti feeling left out or looking from the outside. It makes her miss Jacob and cling to the idea of him coming back all the more since she remembers having a close relationship with him/being closer to him than to Edwin. 

♦  The Venturi’s are very protective of each other[ and of their step siblings] specifically because of what happened to Jacob. It affected them both very badly though differently.  

♦  The Venturi’s are considered blood traitors by most purebloods due to their lax views on Muggleborn wizards especially now that George married a muggle. [ their view of George was already low due to having separated from his pureblood wife]. 

♦  More to the point, all three Venturis [ George, Edwin and Marti ] are hugely defensive against anti-muggle and anti-muggle born sentiments due to Nora and her daughters being part of their family and are likely to react violently to it, especially if directed at them. 

♦  Marti has a love for old rock bands due to Jacob often listening to them when she was little/when he was still around. 

♦   She wore cat ear headbands as a kid and sometimes still wears them [ specially in first year second and third  as she’s still a child but I can definitely see her wearing them for fun as a teenager] 

♦  Marti has a list of spells she wants to learn specifically to prank Merula. And she might be trying to remember what pranks Edwin and Jacob used on each other before Jacob went missing. 

♦  Marti has -undiagnosed ADHD- and RSD [ Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria] which itself is a sympton of ADHD. This often leads to her not focusing in long classes sometimes and spacing out a lot or thinking of other things in class. 

♦  RSD in particular makes it hard for her to regulate emotions and makes her incredibly sensible to perceived [ or real] rejection. She sometimes ends up crying even when she doesn’t want to  [ ie when Snape blamed her for Merula’s prank.] It’s specially going to be harder in her younger years. 

♦  While this won’t happen for a long time, Marti’s first exposure to a boggart will reveal her biggest fear to be her family forgetting about all Jacob. 

♦   Her mirror of erised by contrast is her whole family including Jacob with Edwin smiling like he used to and her dad not looking so worn and sad as he does ever since Jacob went missing. 

FC  Emily Rudd

Older

Friends In Game:

Rowan Khana

Ben Cooper

Penny Haywood

Chiara Lobosca

MC Friends:

Vixen Mcmahen ( @rosievixen​ ) Ryan O’Donnell,  Cara O’Donnell,  Sara O’Donnell,  Conor O’Donnell ( @unfortunate-arrow​)  Finnick -Finn- Moran ( @ljbard121​ ) Cato Reese ( @catohphm​ ) Henry Mclarnon ( @that-ravenpuff-witch​ ) Lyra Wilson ( @cursebreakerfarrier​ )

If you wanna talk about your MC being friends with Marti let me know