#(her mother is a devil which is VERY DIFFERENT. none of these kids know anything about that. they just made guesses.)

[cannibalisticskittles]

amity, during an astarion romance, is eventually going to reach a point where they're being more genuine (or, well, he's being more genuine; amity has been pretty genuine this whole time) and he makes a complimentary remark abt her offhandedly and she's like "haha yeah. you remember you don't have to do that anymore right"

"do... what?" he asks

"you know," she says, "pretend i'm..." she waves a hand in the air, vaguely gesturing to herself. "...nice to look at. you don't have to do that anymore. it's okay."

and no matter what he says, he's. not going to convince her otherwise. not tonight. not tomorrow. not for a long time.

the most she can concede the point is to say that it's kind of him to say so. but she still doesn't think it's true, even a bit

amity's childhood fucked up her self-image BAD. children can be cruel. the patriar are, as a rule, quite cruel and callous. and patriar children?? woof. awful. and she is the tiefling bastard child of a new money noble -- one who got that money through merchant work, how gauche. so she was subsequently on the receiving end of... a substantial amount of unkindness. general distrust, at best, from those who weren't outwardly cruel, but quite a bit of outright cruelty

sorcerers, of course, do not learn their spells the traditional way, but more through desire. and amity learned the disguise self spell early, born out of an intense and desperate desire to Be Literally Anyone Else.

she has learned at this point in time that she has qualities that others may appreciate -- which was a hard-fought battle in and of itself, and is still a relatively recent revelation for her. but those qualities are still tied to what she does. her capacity to be kind, her ability to be helpful.

but her appearance? hahahahaha fuck no

[scrambled-eggs-y]

It’s Only Love Pt.1

Austin!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2673

Warnings: none, fluff for now 😏 MINORS DNI (18+)

A/N: This is a request by @grxce101-blog that's going to be a multiparter! Just in case, Y/N/N means Your Nickname

ALSO: MAJOR creds to my editor and bestie @i-talk-too-much for helping me!! Love you babes ❤️😘

Snip-bit: “My daddy would kill me if he saw me talkin’ to you like this.” “Your daddy doesn’t need to know,” he said huskily, his voice holding a teasing tone as his face leaned down closer to yours. You shuddered at the little space between you two, feeling his warmth, his breath on your face. Your eyes fluttered shut, not being able to handle all the tension that’s erupting between the both of you. 

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

You’d always been known as the “good girl next door”. Being raised in the 50s wasn’t easy, and it sure as heck was boring. 

Same old routine, same old books to read, and same old rules to follow. You’d thought the rest of your life would’ve been sticking to what society deemed as perfect, until you found him. Elvis Presley. He was different. He challenged the rules and said to heck with them! His music liberated you. You were no coward, which was why you took a chance to stand up for yourself and finally asked your daddy to let you go to his concert. Your father was a brute. A big burly man who intimidated any stranger on the street who dared so much as glance at his daughter. Always flockin’ away boys who would come by and ask for you. He never let you listen to any rock and roll–or “devil music” as he called it–but you found your ways. Luckily for you, your friends bought records and of course, you lied to your father that you were studying. Instead, you fawned over Elvis and listened to your heart’s content.

“Ehem,” you cleared your throat as you stood in front of your father. “Uh, Daddy, I was wonderin’.” You hesitated as you picked at your nails. Confrontations with your father always made you nervous–he was stubborn and firm with his rules. You calmed yourself down, taking a deep breath. Come on Y/N, you can do this, you deserve this!

“Daddy, I want to go to a concert with my friends tomorrow night. We’ve already made all the arrangements with Penny’s brother. He’ll drive us to the event and pick us up when it’s over.” He put his newspaper down when he heard your firm voice. You straightened up and looked at him with a stoic expression, your eyebrows furrowed. “I’m eighteen, Daddy, and I feel like I’m allowed to give myself one night of fun. I’ve worked very hard and I feel I deserve this.” You finished speaking and sat down quietly across him, awaiting his response. 

There’s a crisp, quiet silence in the room. Your father studied your expressions while making ‘hmm’ noise. You looked at him with pleading eyes, as if saying please let me go, just once?

“I’ll allow it, just this one time, but if anything–and I mean anything–goes wrong, you will never be allowed to see that darn girl again.” His eyes squinted as his lips downturned, index finger pointing at you. “You kids and your devil music. Let me guess--it’s that Elvis whatever-his-name who’s performing.” Your father snarled, pronouncing his name. 

You nodded silently, trying to keep a blank expression on your face. You slightly flinched at the sharp roar of your father’s voice.

“Helen! Will you call the Coopers and let them know that I am to be notified when Y/N gets to the event hall?!” His voice carried across the room to the kitchen where your mother was cooking dinner.

“Of course, hon’!” She called back immediately as you heard her put something in the oven. 

You finally broke free of the character you put on for the confrontation and went jumping for joy. Rushing over to your father, you cheered, “oh, thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. “I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

You immediately ran up to your room to call your best friend to tell her the news. Shutting the door, you plopped on the bed and spun your rotary dial. You heard a deep ‘hello’ come from the other side of the phone.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Cooper! May I speak to Penny, please?” You asked kindly and looked at your nails as you waited for him to pass the phone to your friend.

“Y/N! So what did he say?” The excitement in her voice was undeniable, her high pitch giddy tone resonated through the phone.

“He said yes, Penny! Oh my goodness gracious, I cannot wait to see his gorgeous face in person. Oh, Penny, I hope I get to meet him.” You sighed happily, your mind conjuring a scene of locking eyes with Elvis in the crowd.

You heard Penny do the same on the phone. “He is something… Ain’t he, Y/N/N?” Breaking out of her trance, she quickly added, “Well, I’ll see you at–” A different voice called through the phone, “Penny, dinner!” You heard her mother yell out.

“Gotta go, bye!” She hung up and you stood up from your bed, deciding to get your outfit ready for the concert.

With all the necessary preparations done, you heard a soft knock at your door. “Come in!” Hearing your voice, your father opened your bedroom door.

“Babygirl, your mother says dinner’s ready on the table.” His voice was a bit softer than usual. Stepping into the room, he sighed and sat on the edge of your bed as you looked at him patiently. 

“Y/N, you know you’ll always be my little girl. It’s hard seein’ you all grown up,” he said, his voice a little unsteady. He brought his hand up, slightly wiping under his right eye.

“Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry, I just–I know you don’t like ‘im, but it’s a part of who I am. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. You’ll always be my number one man.” You looked at your father, moving over to give him a loving hug. It was nice to see him loosen up. He was always so hard on himself as the man of the house. 

“I’ll love ya, no matter what you do, but don’t you bring any delinquents in this darn house, ya hear me? Come on, now. Let’s dig into some of your Mama’s finest cookin’,” he said gleefully as he got up from the bed. 

You opened the door and took a whiff of the air; you knew your mama had made your favorite for dinner.

That night, you just couldn’t calm your nerves. You were excited, nervous, and something else you couldn’t understand, but Elvis made you feel it. 

Before you knew it, it was already time for the concert. You had put on your best makeup, trying not to put too much on so as to not catch your father’s attention. Your outfit was still innocent looking but had secretly accentuated some parts of your body. To any onlooker, the outfit would look perfectly fine, but for someone who was looking for something–they would definitely find it.

You heard the car pull up to the front of your house with a honk following right after, signaling that Penny and her brother arrived. After hurriedly speeding down the stairs to the front door, you quickly kissed your parents goodbye. Right as you were about to walk out the door, your father spoke up behind you. 

“Don’t you be gettin’ into any trouble–especially with them boys, alright darlin'?” He gave you a stern yet soft look. You turned around.

“I won’t daddy, I promise. I told you, it’s just a lil’ show. We’re just gon’ have some fun," you reassured him, giving him a quick hug. 

Running out the door, you saw Penny waving at you. You hopped into the back of their car and the three of you sped off to the concert, all the while excitedly chatting about how seeing him in person would feel.

Once you arrived, you and Penny ran up to the large forming crowd, managing to push through to the front of the group of antsy excited girls. You jolted at the loud announcement that Elvis was taking the stage. 

You saw him waltzing up the stairs. The cheers and screams heard throughout the audience showed that he had all of the girls wrapped around his finger–not to mention you, too, of course. He surveyed the crowd with his alluring yet excited eyes. When his gaze landed on you, you froze, feeling his stare melting your soul. It was when he looked at you and only you that he belted out the beginning note of the song. 

Something different–very different–was brewing up inside you. It was here listening to him, watching him sing live and in front of you that you had felt truly and finally alive. He leaned down, not breaking eye contact with your stupefied face. 

The more he wiggled, stared, and lowered himself to you, the more you couldn’t control yourself. You had your hands in your hair pulling as you screamed helplessly at the top of your lungs. The sensation of being wild and hungry for something you couldn’t explain was such an unusual feeling, that made you scared yet not wanting it to end. However, you knew it was something to do with him and what was hidden under that loose clothing.

Elvis started walking off the stage. You felt as if you were floating. Chest heavy, breath quickening, eyes wide and lustful, you stared at his retreating figure. After a moment, it dawned on you that the concert was over. Looking over at Penny, you found her face flushed and filled with exhilaration. 

“Holy heck, that was the greatest thing I have ever experienced in my life!” She said, turning to you and holding your hands as she jumped up and down excitedly. 

“He just knows how to put on a show," you replied. You looked past her, your eyes unfocused as you replayed the memory of him looking at you once more. You could hear Penny calling your name, but you didn't care. All you wanted was to keep thinking of him, looking at him, and maybe even touching him. It was at that moment that you brought yourself back to reality. Oh God, please excuse my unholy thoughts. 

You and Penny walked to the side of the road and waited for her brother to pick you up from the crazed event. Waiting patiently while picking at the hem of your attire, you saw countless people getting picked up or walking by on their merry way home. After about thirty minutes, Penny decided to walk over to the other side of the street to the payphone to find out where her brother was, leaving you alone and waiting at the front of the event hall. 

As you looked around, watching the lights around you flash and the night sky shining brightly full of stars, you heard a deep southern voice behind you. 

“You–uh, alright there, miss?” You heard footsteps stride up to your figure steadily.

“Just fine, thank y–”    

Your sentence cut short, your breath catching in your throat. You turned around to the voice to find the one and only Elvis Presley staring down at you. Your eyes slowly traced down his figure. He looked beautiful, wearing his lace shirt that perfectly encapsulated his muscles and pressed pants making him look just sharp enough to be a gentleman–but you knew deep down you shouldn’t mess with him, just from the air surrounding him. When you glanced back up at his face, your lips slightly parted at the sight. His face glowed underneath the light–blue eyes sparkling like diamonds, hair so well put yet messy, making you want to comb your hands right through it, and his lips–his kissable lips pulled up in a small smirk. He noticed you in awe, taking in his appearance. You bet he knew he had that effect on many women. 

“You like what you see, darlin’?" He bit his bottom lip as the corners of his mouth upturned and his mischievous eyes made a whimper build in the back of your throat. It was how you reacted just now that pulled you out of your trance and made you reply to him in haste.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! It’s just–well, Mr. Presley, you are one good-looking man," you rambled. "I mean, any woman would look at you the same way. And well, I don’t think a woman should just like you for your looks–you are a wonderful singer and dancer. The performance was delightful and well…I think I’ve said enough.” Your voice trailed off as you stopped speaking, your head turning to the side, looking down to hide your embarrassment. 

“Please, call me Elvis.” He chuckled lightly at your shyness and flushed face. Elvis put his fingers right under your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispered, staring at you with a certain glint in his eyes. The two of you may have only just met, but you were already falling for him. You felt that he was, too.

“Well, Elvis, I could say the same to you,” you said, breathlessly, staring back into his eyes. You felt so helpless, longing for something to touch, for something to happen. “My daddy would kill me if he saw me talkin’ to you like this.” 

“Your daddy doesn’t need to know,” he said huskily, his voice holding a teasing tone as his face leaned down closer to yours. You shuddered at the little space between you two, feeling his warmth, his breath on your face. Your eyes fluttered shut, not being able to handle all the tension that’s erupting between the both of you. 

“Are,” you took a deep breath, trying to speak. “Are you gonna kiss me?” Your voice came out almost inaudible, your breath falling to the outside air, but he definitely heard it.

“Do ya want me to?” You opened your eyes to look at him, his lips quirking into a snarky grin. 

“I–” Your voice broke off, hearing Penny yell out your name. The both of you turned your heads to her voice and saw her waving her hand around. 

“Y/N, we gotta go, hon’, Billy’s just up the block!” 

You waved to her, showing that you heard her, and yelled back. “Just a minute, Pen!”

“It seems we gotta part ways, Elvis,” you said, trying to hold the sadness out of your voice, looking up at him. He stood up straighter, putting a few more inches between you. 

“I’d like to take ya out to dinner sometime, Y/N.” He looked at you sincerely while taking your hand and rubbing across your knuckles with his thumb. 

“I would love that,” you replied, almost whispering. You took out a pen and grabbed his hand to jot down your address. “Here’s my address, but don’t come around past six, that’s when my daddy’s home.” He watched you patiently as you wrote everything down, a silent laugh passing through his lips at your instruction. 

You looked up and let go of his hand with a smile. You stared a little longer at his face, just taking everything in, while he looked down to read your writing on his palm. You heard Penny yell one more time along with the honk of a car horn. 

“I gotta go, it’s been a pleasure, Elvis.” You gave a quick, gentle kiss on his cheek and ran off to Penny. Glancing back, you saw him watching you with a dopey grin on his face.

When you reached the car, Penny pestered you quietly about the mystery man she saw across the dim street with you, so as not to alert Billy of your activities. Her eyes widened when you told her, and she almost burst out screaming when she heard that you snagged a date with Elvis–and almost kissed him, too. After they dropped you off at home, you giddily walked up to your porch and your mama opened the door.

“It was that great, huh,” she said sarcastically, looking at you with an amused grin and giving you a light kiss on your cheek as a ‘welcome home’.

“You got no idea, Mama,” you said, walking into the house and up the stairs to your room.

But, boy, little did you know that this was just the beginning of your new eye-opening life with Elvis.

[shyshitter]

yea so i wrote a ficlet for this post bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it. also this really went off the rails bc it has been a phat second since ive written anything so enjoy i guess

Abigail likes Jack Kline. He’s quiet and sweet and doesn’t ask questions when she sometimes doesn’t bring lunch; he just subtly slides over his apple and chips with a smile. Sure, he’s a little odd sometimes (like how he talks like a thesaurus or says hi to everyone in the hallways) but she doesn’t believe he deserves the way the other kids make fun of him behind his back. They whisper about his mysterious and sudden appearance, how he’s been picked up after school by three different men, and his odd fascination with religion. He’s not like the other christian kids who are always trying to recruit kids for their church; he just--really likes Jesus and talks about Him like he knows Him personally. 

“My dad saved humanity,” he says constantly. “He’s died a few times but it’s never stuck. The most recent time was by nail but that was a misunderstanding.” 

So he’s an odd kid and Abby knows it but she just doesn’t care. Her friends have accepted this but even they are still confused by Jack’s odd behavior. Her friend Martha has history with him and talks about him all the time. 

“For the heritage project, he said his mother is dead and his father a son of God so he doesn’t have any ancestors to write about,” she says one day at lunch. “I think he thinks his biological father is Jesus Christ.”  

It takes a while but Abby finally works up the courage to ask him about it. Jack’s in the middle of a story about how his dad was healing someone when she interrupts him. 

“Do you think your dad is Jesus?” 

Jack frowns and tilts his head in confusion. “No Jesus is my cousin. My father hates him but my da doesn’t really care about him.”

Jack has two dads? 

“You have two dads?” she asks.

He pauses to think. “Technically I have four dads but my real father was killed by three of them because he was trying to take me to space.”

Abby’s head spins. “Your dads are murderers?” 

“No, they’re hunters.” 

“But you just said they killed your real father.” 

Jack frowns again. “Yeah but my real father was the devil.” 

Abby remembers a girl she met at camp who said the same thing about her dad. She later learned that the girl was taken by CPS and her father went to prison. Suddenly, images of Jack alone and scared in a group home flood her mind and she grabs his arm in alarm.

“Are you safe?” she asks desperately. 

He just smiles and pats her arm. “Of course; he’s dead now.” 

She shakes her head. “I mean are you safe with your dads now?” 

His eyes light up like they always do when he talks about his family. “Of course! My dad was prophesied to save humanity and has, my da is an angel, and my pa is the leader of an army of hunters so I’m in good hands.” 

By the time Abby’s processed this comment, Jack has already moved on to his favorite types of cars and the conversation is over. 

She forgets about Jack’s crazy family situation until Spring Formal. Abby and her friends are standing in line for the photo booth when she sees Jack across the gym with a beautiful girl on his arm, both of them talking to a giant man with floppy brown hair. Without explaining, she leaves her friends to walk over and gets a better look at the three of them. The girl has long curly blonde hair that bounces when she laughs but her eyes are sharp and harsh, constantly scanning the room as if looking for threats. The man is wearing a white button-down with blue jeans and just smiles warmly as Jack talks animatedly to him. The man spots her as she approaches and for a moment, the warmth in his eyes is replaced by cold suspicion but as soon as Jack notices her and smiles, the man relaxes. 

“Abby, this is my pa,” Jack says with a grin. 

Jack’s ‘pa’ offers a hand and Abby shakes it. “Sam,” he says politely. “Jack talks about you a lot.”  

“Yeah,” the girl cuts in. “I was wondering when I was gonna meet you.” Her eyes trail up and down Abby’s body distrustfully. “This punk never shuts up about you.” 

Jack just keeps smiling. “This is my sister Claire,” he introduces. “She’s in college!” 

Overwhelmed by the introductions, Abby just smiles and offers her hand to Claire as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says, relieved when Claire accepts the handshake. 

“Have you met Dean and Cas yet?” Claire asks. “You’re not officially accepted by the family until Dean okayes you.” 

Sam swats a scolding hand over Claire’s head. “Don’t scare her--my brother isn’t that bad.” He looks back at Abby with a smile. “Don’t let my niece worry you, Dean and Cas are gonna love you.” 

Trying to do mental gymnastics in her head, Abby attempts to figure out how Sam is both Jack’s dad and Claire’s uncle while Jack and Claire are siblings. Dean and Cas are the other two fathers who killed Jack’s real dad and apparently Dean is also Sam’s brother. 

She doesn’t finish her thought process before Jack is dragging Abby across the gym, leaving Sam and Claire. 

“Dad, da,” he calls out over the music. 

Abby tries to spot who responds to Jack’s call and notices two more giant men by the food table look up from their conversation. They’re even more intimidating than Sam and Claire. The taller man has broad shoulders and hard eyes like Claire and despite this being a formal dance, he’s wearing a green canvas jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. The shorter man is a tad more formal with his too-big suit and tan overcoat but he watches them approach with a blank face which is almost more threatening than the hostile look the other man has. 

“Da, dad, this is my friend Abby,” Jack says as soon as they’re in earshot. 

The taller man looks her up and down like Claire did earlier before nodding shortly. “Nice to finally put a face to the name,” he says gruffly. His voice is rough and low but not unkind so Abby relaxes slightly. 

The other man smiles and it suits him much more than the blank look did. “It’s lovely to meet you, Abigail,” he says and holy shit his voice is even lower and gravilier than the other guy’s. “Jack speaks very highly of you.” 

“Yeah, thanks to you he listens to shitty music,” the taller man gripes but Abby can tell it’s more teasing than genuinely upset. 

“Dean,” the other man scolds as he nudges him. “Megan Thee Stallion is not shitty music.” 

If the taller man is Dean, the other is Cas and as Abby watches them, she can see the resemblance between Dean and Sam in their sharp jaws and teasing smiles.  

She turns to Jack. “You listen to Megan Thee Stallion?”

Jack nods excitedly. “You were humming her songs in English and I liked it.”

Cas leans in to Abby. “I’ve been trying to get him to branch out from 70s rock for ages but he never wanted to disappoint Dean so thank you for helping him.” 

Abby nods, dazed. “Are you Jesus?” she blurts after failing to come up with a response. 

Dean barks out a loud laugh and doesn’t stop until Cas swats him. Once Dean settles, Cas turns back to Abby with an embarrassed smile. 

“That’s very flattering,” he says, “but no. I am simply Castiel. If anything, Dean shares more in common with the Messiah than I do.” 

Instead of elaborating, Dean just snorts and humbly shakes his head. “Babe, we’ve talked about this--” 

But before he can finish, Cha Cha Slide blasts through the speakers and the gym falls into pandemonium as all the students rush to the dance floor. Jack, confused but excited, grabs Abby’s hand and drags her over to join in, leaving Dean and Cas for the rest of the night. 

Abby doesn’t consider herself a selfish person but even she has never thought so much about another person’s life than Jack’s. Her confusion keeps her up and night and prevents her from being fully present whenever she talks to Jack. She’s tried talking to her friends about it but even they have moved on from the enigma that is Jack Kline. 

One month after the formal--after she met Jack’s family--she finally snaps. She’s at lunch with him in a cafe downtown and he’s telling her about how his brother Kevin is visiting from college and is teaching Jack how to talk to angels. 

“What the fuck is wrong with your family,” she interrupts. 

Jack stops talking and tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“You said you have four dads and one of them was murdered by the other three. Dean and Sam are brothers and Dean is with Cas. Claire is your sister but Sam is her uncle and your brother has a mom but none of you are related to her.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “You keep saying your dads saved the world and that they’ve died and come back. You said one of your dads was an angel and now your brother is teaching you how to talk to angels? Are you lying or are you just plain crazy?” 

After the last sentence slips from her lips, she gasps and a cold dread fills her. Jack just stares, shocked at the outburst. 

“You think I’m crazy?” he asked softly. 

Abby feels a lump in her throat form. “No, no, no,” she babbles, “I didn’t mean that. I’m just confused that’s all.” 

Jack brightens. “That’s ok, life is confusing. Anyways, I tried shawarma for the first time yesterday--like in the superhero movie!”

Abby sighs and let’s Jack rant about shawarma, resigned to the fact that she’ll never get a straight answer from this confounding boy and his unnatural family. 

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS 2x10: New and a bit alarming... ok, very alarming

I don't even know at this point if I'm more nervous or excited for this episode. I've done my waiting and, well, whatever lies ahead, good or bad, or a little bit of both, I just can't wait anymore, even though I haven't been so scared to press play since... well, since last week. Guess I should just go for it, then:

Ooh, shady Seb doing the recap! We love to see it. Like, seriously, I'm anxious about the Seblos fight, but shady Seb is kind of my new favourite Seb.

I just... Ashlyn's acting is top tier. Emotional connection to the material? Superb! Chemistry with her co-lead... well, he'd have to be co-leading for any chemistry to be possible. I love Ricky, and I feel for him with all he's been through, but he's just not lead material right now. And it shows. Especially next to Ashlyn, who is killing it!

Miss Jenn is on the verge of a bloody mental breakdown and I just... wish I could do something to make things better. She reminds me of my mum when a deadline approaches for her to submit an article, and I just feel for her right now. Gosh, I'm feeling for everybody today. My empathy seems to be at its peak and I might just burst from all these emotions this episode is making me feel even before the 5-minute mark.

Ok, but Miss Jenn being stressed means Carlos is stressed for two, which means... this is a really bad time for him and Seb to have personal problems. My heart just can't handle it.

Wow... I never thought I'd see the day! The two leads are actually talking to each other! This is a mid-July miracle!

Why does everyone keep pretending their HSM was good? It was a flaming hot mess! A child could see that.

Miss Jenn needs a lot of work on her 'gracious face'. I, like Carlos, have quite some notes. Only mine aren't exactly, how do you say... verbally formulated quite yet.

Did Carlos just refer to Miss Jenn as 'mother'? Because yes.

I've been in a couple of local theatre productions in my day, but none of them had actual physical sets — we relied on the audience's imagination quite a lot — so I wouldn't know what a good set is made of... but even I can tell that plywood and Elmer's glue = not good.

Kourtney is a multi-tasking icon and we love her. I feel like I don't say this enough, but she deserves all the love.

Ooh, shady Seb is... well, shady! 'Quit school and get a job at the pizza shop?' — I mean, you don't see Reddy or Kourtney (or Howie, for that matter) quitting school in order to work at the Slices! Those kids juggle it all and, as someone who's never had to balance school and a job all at once, they have my deepest admiration.

Still, I think they should have thought about 'inventing' something re: transformation earlier than this point. The personal drama has taken up too much of their time.

Why does everyone keep inviting people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, it's not like I've ever heard her complain, but the girl needs some rest! And her house is not a public space.

Oh, so they're making this into a contest? I mean, I have never been a fan of competition, but to each their own. And Redlyn are hosting! This is going to be so beautiful! (You know, unless the boys try to sleep — see my post from yesterday about Reddy's background noise machine)

'I'm not worried. But North High should be!' Ooh, I love this look on Ashlyn! See, there's a lead to take notes from! And Ricky should be the first to do so. Take notes about what a lead acts like, I mean.

Oooooh, Big Red claps back! We love to see it. Although, you know, it stems from the fact that he's nervous about coming up with a solution to the transformation problem. 'I get bossy around the power tools' — Yes, sweetie, and I love that look on you. Maybe you should be around power tools more often, if that helps.

Ughhh, look what the cat brought in! Lily (I wish I knew her last name so I could refer to her by it exclusively, but we'll have to make do). I hate that girl. She reminds me quite exactly of the girl who bullied me in seventh grade to the point where I wished I'd die before having to deal with her at school again. She and Lily both bring out my aggressive side, and I hate that about them.

Ricky — 'so good at being a leading man'? I don't know what Lily is playing at here, but Ricky has not shown himself to be a very good leading man this season. He has the potential to be, but he has not fulfilled it by this point. Sure, he supports his friends and they support him, but that's basic decency. Not yet good leadership. No hate on Ricky, just the truth.

'I vaguely remember him' — please tell me this is setup for Ricky leading Lily on and then slamming the door in her face with the truth. The way I see it, he's been given a chance here. A chance to be the supportive, protective best friend Big Red deserves. I just... have a lot of ideas about this and I don't want it to end badly instead.

'I'm just not well-liked here, and I don't know what to do' — well, of course you aren't well-liked, you little— (ok, ok, calm down, breathe, 10, 9, 8...) whatever. I mean, she hasn't even considered basic decency, as it seems. Must be a new concept to her.

'Don't start with me, Carlos!' Wow. As much as I hate it that my two faves' only interaction in so long is so hostile, I kind of like this side of Big Red. I wonder what other sides of himself he's been hiding.

Listen, I don't like Seb being patronised and babied, but... 'Chip, this is your mother speaking: go call your mother!' made me laugh so hard. They're leaning into the on-stage family dynamic and I live for it.

EJ's idea of using old skateboards for the spinning contraption is... a brilliant callback to the fact that Ricky and Big Red were first characterised as skateboarders... you know, before diving headfirst into the theatre thing. And it feels like it might actually work.

Miss Jenn's excitement at seeing Mr Mazzara ('Benjamin!!!') is perhaps only topped by the fact that he was halfway home, got a text from her and instantly went back to the school. I mean, these two have something that's really big.

Miss Jenn referring to the kids as 'my children', combined with Carlos calling her 'mother' earlier just warms my heart so much! Those guys really are family. I live for it.

Ok, but... as clear as it is that the Wildcats are very far behind NH in terms of budget, rehearsal time and who knows what else, I hate seeing Miss Jenn resigned to them losing. I want to see her have faith in them, talk about how they will win, and, in her own words, 'trust the process'. I mean, I guess it's good that, as a teacher, she wants to prepare her kids for a possible defeat (and I mean really possible if they don't step up their game immediately, especially some of them * cough* Ricky *cough *), but a team that goes out to the field expecting to lose has a very minimal chance of winning.

Despite everything I've been saying again and again about Nini lately, the fact that she just delivered a very different 'No, Seb' has just redeemed her. See, this one wasn't dismissive or patronising — this was like, 'no, Seb, don't put yourself down' and I love that spin on the catchphrase I'd grown to hate. See, many things can be redeemed. And some simply cannot. * cough* Devil's spawn Lily *cough *. Also, Seb being self-conscious about the fact that Carlos 'doesn't have many options' at East Hight is the perfect setup for In a Heartbeat — meaning they will either have a chance to talk about their issue, or they have a telepathic connection, in which case, what kind of soulmate stuff is that?

'You're my sister; he's my cousin' — yeah, Ash, putting it like that makes it sound a lot weirder than it should, but I do get what you're trying to say. This is not a drill! Ashlyn is a Portwell shipper (heck, maybe even the captain of that ship) — but I feel like we already knew that.

'Why'd I never hear about this?' — and there it goes. Within the same scene, Nini was redeemed and then made aggravating again. What does she care if Gina thought Ricky sent her chocolates? He didn't. Because he and Gina can't be anything but very good friends. And I feel like good friends is what Gina needs. Maybe that's why I wanted EJ to be that for her initially (or it was because I'm aroace and don't tend to notice romantic attraction between fictional characters — or real people for that matter — unless it's explicitly stated to be there). But I've been on board of the majestic S.S. Portwell for a few weeks now and it's finally about to set sail.

Yeah, Nini, get a root beer, calm the heck down and get over it!

'Your other clockwise!' — Why does this even need to be said? How many 'clockwise's are there? I absolutely understand why Big Red gets the way he gets around power tools. I'd be on edge too, if the people I was trying to work with didn't know what way clockwise is. Still, I feel like by the time I'm 30, nobody younger than me would have a reason to know what way clockwise is, and I don't know if I feel bad or neutral about it.

Oh, so there's no telepathy involved in Seblos' problem resolution — it's been Redlyn's good communication all along. I might have known.

Ooh, Portwell is being discussed on both sides! PORTWELL NATION HOW WE FEELING

Nini? Why is everything about Nini? There's no way everything is about Nini. In all seriousness, though, EJ's worries about letting the next girl go seem valid in regards to Gina, given that she explicitly stated (though not within earshot of EJ or anyone who could have tipped him off) that she needs someone who will show up and stay. But they'll figure it out. They'll find a way. I know it. They will, or I will riot, and I know I won't be alone in that.

Ooh, Howie is giving Kourtney the original blueprints! Looks like Reddy isn't the only one who has a spy on the inside.

Ahhh, Ricky! Not 'Let You Go' again. I haven't cried to it in three days and I was not ready to break that streak. But... wait, this is where Carlos approaches Ricky to ask him for help with writing a song for Seb, isn't it? I am definitely ready for this.

Oh, is it... is it Ricky who suggests Carlos write a song for Seb? Now that is what a good leading man looks like.

'I'm adjusting to being called bro' — me too, Carlito, me too. But... this scene must have been so emotional for Josh, given that he hadn't come out yet. I remember him crying during The Climb and... all I'm saying is I want Ricky to come out at some point, too.

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh... they were just talking about love languages and that's when Carlos shows up? Cinematic. Wait, there's Portwell too? This is what dreams are made of.

My oh my oh my! Risotto! For real this time. I might have just teared up. (Full disclosure: I did.) I've only had Portwell for about three weeks, but if anything happens to them, I will... you know how the meme goes. [side note: Wait, when I said 'for real this time', I was not expecting EJ would say it, much less word for word. Am I... writing this show now? It's usually my dad who predicts people's lines in TV shows]

'Not that I know of'... excuse me while I hyperventilate! These two are literal soulmates. They might share a brain, too, for all that I know. Portwell nation you ok guys?

I love that Ricky helped Carlos out with this song and is supporting him through it, but... I just might have preferred for him not to be there. I kind of need Seblos to have this moment to themselves. But, you know, with the way they feel about each other it might as well be like they're alone in the universe, let alone the room.

Ok, but Frankie's voice... brings out feelings in me that I didn't know I was capable of. Make of that what you will. Also, I'm not sobbing my eyes out, you are.

Ahhh Reddy my sunshine my sweet boy I love you but why did you have to cut Seblos' moment short? They were going to kiss, I know it. Oh well, they probably will, later on. Off-screen probably, but who cares? Not everything is for us to see. At least Carlos and Ricky had a moment there... Carlos calling Ricky 'bro' made me more emotional than I expected. It's like Miss Jenn says in s1: 'They're best bros, and that's a sacred thing... for reasons I will never understand'.

Ricky's acting sounds like a cat about to spit up a hairball, and it's so funny... in a scene that is supposed to be arguably the most dramatic of the entire play, that is not a good thing.

Oh my, oh my... you did not! You did not just end the episode with Ricky taking a fall from who knows how high. I was not ready. This episode was entirely too much for me. I will need 10 to 15 business days to recover from this, and we all know there aren't that many. But in the meantime you'll find me obsessively listening to In a Heartbeat for hours on end. Seriously, this episode is too much.

[ladykissingfish]

A Date with an Angel // Part Two // Hidan and Obito

Hidan

“Order whatever you want; I swiped the old fuck’s credit card so dinner’s on him!” Konan panics at this, and refuses to pick up her menu until Hidan takes out his wallet and proves that he was just kidding. Today was Hidan’s turn at entertaining the lovely little lady, and he had originally intended to take her to a heavy metal performance at bar downtown (he was friends with the lead guitarist so they would have gotten in free). However, after he informed Nagato of his plans, he was met with a disappointing “Konan hates heavy metal.”, so he decided to take her to dinner instead. She seemed entirely suspicious when he approached her earlier (wearing a dress shirt and tie instead of his usual dirty muscle tank and ripped sweatpants), but nonetheless agreed to go with him to a quiet little cafe a few blocks down from the house. Konan has never really known what to make of Hidan. He was just slightly older than Deidara, but (in Konan’s opinion) ranking much higher on the “immaturity” wheel. He’s been nicknamed by the rest of the group as “Mr. Never-Dies”, because no matter what happens, what job he takes on, how badly he’s hurt ... he just keeps getting back up. One time he came home with blood running from the crown of his head and flowing into his boots, but rather than let anyone take him to a hospital, Hidan took out a needle and made Kakuzu stitch the gash on his forehead. No painkillers, no alcohol, not even any flinching. Anyone else would have been substantially messed up after such a heavy blood loss ... but Hidan was just fine, in fact laughing and talking like nothing was amiss. He’s extremely foul-mouthed and has a thing for telling dirty jokes, but today, on his date with Konan, he’s making a great effort to restrain himself. Hidan wants very badly to put his arm around her waist as he walks along beside her, but resists as he knows Nagato will tear him a new asshole if he makes her in anyway uncomfortable. He’s at a loss for what to talk to her about, so he simply asks her how she’s feeling. There’s a pause, and she goes “I’m not really sure. I lost my mood ring yesterday.” He bursts out laughing, so hard that she blushes. “That’s pretty damn funny, lady.”Konan tilts her head in surprise; nobody had ever complimented her humor before. In fact she’s usually told that the few jokes she does make are very flat, or somewhat dark. Fast forward to the cafe, where Konan is surprised again that Hidan asks for a table that’s “quiet”, and pulls out her chair for her. The waiter comes back and Konan is amused by the amount of food that Hidan is ordering. When it’s her turn, her mind is a blank, so she just orders the last thing he said (which was spaghetti and meatballs). “That’s all?” he asks, as the waiter collects their menus and leaves. “No wonder you’re so slender.” She asks him how in the world HE’S so skinny when he eats so much, and he explains he has a fast metabolism, like his mother. Konan is interested; she’s never heard him mention his family before. As if reading her mind, he says, “Me and those guys just don’t get along. They wrote me off as a brain-dead bastard when I said I wasn’t goin’ to college.” “College isn’t everything, you know. People have to do what’s right for them.” Hidan agrees, and begins telling her his much he enjoys working for Nagato, and the type of jobs they do. It’s interesting; when you got him away from the others and in a calm, quiet setting, Hidan was ... normal. Normal and actually very charming. And although he never says it out-loud, Konan gets the strong impression that Hidan has come to consider the rest of the group as being a surrogate family. Then the food comes out and Hidan turns into a different creature altogether. He eats much like an animal, viciously and indiscriminately. But instead of being disgusted by this, Konan ... feels relaxed. There’s an unspoken feeling here, that with Hidan, she can let go and be herself. She doesn’t have to worry about looking pretty, or eating daintily, or acting “like a lady”. In fact Hidan orders them ice cream sundaes for dessert,

then challenges her to see who can eat theirs the fastest. Hidan ends up winning, but they end up with a horrible case of brain-freeze that leaves them both paralyzed for several moments ... yet laughing pretty hard. Even though Konan ate far less than Hidan, she feels quite stuffed nonetheless and mentions this to Hidan, who immediately offers to give her a piggy back ride home. She hesitates to accept; it’s a ways home and Konan feels she’s not the lightest woman in the world (especially after a big meal). But he insists, and she lets him hoist her into his back and trot back to the house with her. They laugh and joke the entire way, with Hidan making numerous comments about how light she is and how good she smells. “That’s one thing about living in a house full of guys for so long; I got so used to the smell of ass and dirty socks and Doritos that I forgot there’s people in the world who know what the fuck deodorant and shampoo are!” Konan laughs so hard at this that she slips off Hidan’s back and lands on her knees in the grass, holding her stomach and howling. Seeing that she likely won’t calm down anytime soon to grab onto his back again, Hidan picks her up and carries her in his arms the last two blocks home. He sets her down gently outside the front door, telling her how much fun she is to be with, when she throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” she says as she lets him go, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” He hesitates, then leans down and very gently kisses her cheek, before telling her that she’s welcome to hang out with him anytime, because “I’ve got a million more jokes, doll, and I’ll gladly tell ‘em all to you.” He walks her to her room and chances giving her another kiss, this one on the forehead, before bidding her Goodnight.

Obito

“Can I ask you a question?” “Yeah?” “When we’re at home, when we’re around the others, why do you wear that thing?” It’s the next day, and Konan is at a bar (ironically, the same one that Hidan wanted to take her to the previous day) with Obito. Out of everyone in the house, Obito is the one that strikes Konan as being the most mysterious. To begin with, the day she met him he was wearing a unique orange half-mask over his face ... and never took it off. She questioned Nagato about it but he seemed reluctant to speak on Obito’s unique fashion choice, and none of the others acted as though there was anything strange about it. He joined he others for dinner each night but seemed to prefer sweets to actual food, and he was quiet. Nagato told Konan that Obito was more or less his right hand man within the organization, and had helped him recruit the other members. Obito never spoke to her unless she spoke first ... so naturally she had been surprised when he approached her as she was coming out of her room, and asked if she minded joining him for “a quick drink”. The bar, like everything else, was in walking distance of the house; but Obito took her on the back of his motorcycle. It was a short ride but an exhilarating one ... and it got even more exciting when, upon entering the bar, Obito glanced around, saw there weren’t many people, and took off his mask. He found them a seat at a table near the back, and ordered them both a glass of wine. Konan had tried her hardest not to stare at his face ((which was difficult; aside from a few jagged scars on the left side and what looked like a damaged eye, he was quite handsome)) but eventually he caught her looking, hence giving her the bravery to pose her question. Obito paused for several moments, as if contemplating what to say. “Why do women wear makeup? Why do people dye their hair or get piercings or tattoos or wear crazy clothes? It’s because they have something about themselves that they don’t like, so they try to cover it up. I don’t like my face. I haven’t since my accident.” Konan blinks, genuinely surprised at Obito’s answer. She chances it to ask “Accident?” He gave her a wry smile and ordered himself a shot of whiskey (and her an ice tea) saying he needed something stronger to tell her about it. “When I was a kid, my parents liked to go rock climbing. Took me with to National parks every summer. One year my dad got drunk and took me and my mom up a dangerous path. He pulled on a rock the wrong way, and it came out of the mountain, along with a bunch more, and crashed down on us. Really long fall; mom and dad killed right away. But me ... I guess the devil decided he wasn’t done with me. A boulder crushed this entire side of my body, and my face got fucked ... but I lived. Had to go to a lot of physical therapy. Also had to go live with my uncle Madara — that guy’s a piece of work. But anyway I lived and here we are, right?” Konan is quiet for a long while, watching the ice cubes float around in her glass. “I like you like this,” she finally says, and this time she’s looking him directly in the face. “I understand if you want to be someone different, or like, if you feel like your mask makes you different, but, if you ever want to be THIS Obito ... please come to my room. We can talk, we can listen to music and eat junk and watch movies and talk about books and —“ Obito interrupts her by putting both arms around her, squeezing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan.” They stay for another few hours, and Konan is pleasantly surprised to find that Obito without the mask, Obito away from the house ... is fantastic. He teaches her how to play pool, he keeps her laughing with countless stories about growing up with his “crazy uncle”. At one point in the night he convinces her to join him at the karaoke machine on the stage, and the two sing duets of Disney songs (to the thunderous applause of the few people at the bar).The ride back home is mostly quiet, him driving slower this time and her holding on to him, each filled with their own thoughts. Before they get to the front

door, Konan lifts Obito’s mask just the slightest bit, and kisses his cheek. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long, long time. I appreciate you letting me get to know you.” He smiles and blushes, then slides the mask back into place before opening the front door. Some of the others are in the living room, and Obito quietly greets them before heading to his room. Konan was awed by how effortless the switch from animated and somewhat goofy to reserved and calm seemed to be for him ... and found herself wondering if any of the others were putting on a facade as well. She takes her shower and goes to her room, intending to go to sleep early, but after about an hour of restlessly tossing back and forth, she gives it up. She turns her light back on and picks up the remote to her tv, thinking that maybe a good, boring show will put her to sleep. But before she can find anything, a knock comes on the door. She goes to open it, and is surprised to find Obito standing there. “I saw the light underneath your door. Can I come in?” She takes him by the arm and pulls him inside. Once inside, he slides off his mask and, looking around, finds a seat for himself on one of Konan’s chairs. He opens up his jacket to reveal a small book, worn and obviously read many times. “I saw you reading this last week. I remember you telling Sasori that you finished it. I was wondering; what did you think in Chapter seven, when —“

[vivithefolle]

Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers  (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

[mc-critical]

Valide: "You once asked me what's the difference between you and Hürrem. I'll tell you the most important one - Hürrem acts with her own mind, but you act with other people's minds."

I'm sorry, guys, I know it's a badass scene, I know it's an epic smackdown, I can only guess how much people have been waiting for this one moment perhaps since the beginning, but narratively, the whole thing grinds my gears.

Now, I'm not saying that what Valide says here is entirely wrong: in fact, I think given which portion of the series this is in, she hit the nail on the head. Seeking help from people in need is one of the core traits of Mahidevran's character in S01/2. When she feels she's losing, when she's powerless against the circumstances, going to Valide, Ibrahim or Hatice is her first (and often only) resort. Because she has to face the loss of something so remarkable and so important in her life, someone she thought loved her, someone who she's spent so much of her time with. It's hard, and it took her very long to completely burn the bridge. And in this struggle, she sought help, she thought she couldn't do it alone. And for the core of the statement, there indeed have been times where Mahidevran used the influence of others to achieve her own goal (telling Valide for Hürrem's crown, telling Hatice to marry Nigar to Matrakçi etc.) and it is a fitting statement for this part of her S02B arc: she has gotten her utmost, here even overbearing confidence from Mustafa (E46: "When I left, I thought everything was over, that I was defeated. But now when I came back with Mustafa, I feel like I was reborn."; her behavior the entire episode; E50: "I won't do anything that endangers Mustafa's future.") and she is more than willing to use the power she gets from being his mother (E48: "I'll destroy you with the power I get from my prince!"), now that he's already grown, she's willing to destroy them all, to finally get what she deserves, be where she belongs.

However, this scene, or rather the content of it, lacks the narrative and thematic context necessary for it to be serviceable and it only looks like forced fanservice as a result.

- There is no scene in the entire show where Mahidevran ever asks what's the difference between her and Hürrem. It takes away from the impact, because if they put a scene like this, in say, E45 (but honestly, any other episode will work.), despite of the complaint I'll make in a while, they would get the golden chance to call it back and make a decent connection between the two scenes. But unfortunately, this isn't the case and they have nothing to call back to, which is why it makes all this look like something the writers pulled out of their sleeves all of the sudden, out of absolutely nowhere.

- It is totally OOC for Mahidevran to ask something like this in the first place. She knows very well what's different with Hürrem, she herself makes a difference between both of them from the very beggining to the very end. She considers herself superior to her (E08: "Who are you? I'm a Haseki. Haseki Sultana. You'll show me respect.", E10: "How dare you compare an upstart concubine with a Sultana?", E11: "How do you even call yourself a Sultana? Know your place!", E44: "Who do you think you're kicking out?", E55: "I would be careful of my words if I were you. Because your fate is now in my hands."- by memory), taking her a long while to even admit she was a Sultana (she started doing so by.. S02B? and began to openly call her such only by S03); better than her (constantly calling her a snake, a devil, E53: "This woman is a devil! What things get into her head?" or something like that), and most importantly, acknowledges very well how she breaks the tradition and treats it as unprecedented and rogue. (E40 when Hü said she was freed: "How can that be?"; E45: "How dare she speak to me about tradition?") Even if she could've wondered what was so special to her in the beginning of the show, no, she didn't, she asked Hatice how can that be in E02, but not how Hürrem got into his heart exactly, it was rather how could Süleiman do this when Mahidevran loved only him. She was sad he was replacing her with "a russian slave". She from the beginning and Valide by E45 were even sure that Hürrem had bewitched Süleiman. Mahi, not even once, began to wonder what is it about Hürrem. She had a clear answer on her mind from day one and she always considered her imprudent and fierce and later, an active danger for her son. So, Mahidevran asking such a question in any point of the series, even offscreen, is.. not like her.

- Valide had no reason to bring the "you act with other people's minds" up in the context of the episode. Valide was mad at Mahidevran for her declaring herself a Valide Sultana and being ready kill Hürrem's kids. Her blaming Aybige for her affair with Bali Bey was only the last straw, not the entire reason. And what Mahidevran did in the episode, wasn't dictated by someone else. She didn't even use anyone else to say and do it, either. These words were all hers, the actions were all hers. She proposed to Mustafa, as well as Ibrahim to be with her in that path, but none of them agreed. The only one who wanted to move on was her. She was alone here. She detached herself from everyone else. So that whole quote falls flat. And even if Valide meant to say this to Mahidevran because of her blaming Aybige, she saw and witnessed by herself Aybige's conversation with Bali Bey and she had enough evidence to drive the conclusion that there is something between them. And yes, she had the right to interrogate her, because she is Mustafa's mother and has to know what is going on. As both Valide and Mahidevran (and even Süleiman) have said: The suspicion only is venomous.

- It loses all weight in retrospect, due to biased narrative voice. (warning: SPOILERS!) I've talked about how I dislike Valide's flanderization in S02 a lot, but what I dislike even more, is how they de-flanderized her. This scene strives to be presented as this huge and important realization of Valide Sultan's character, but it is only the voice of the narrative, also thanks to all the problems I listed above. Look at this scene's composition for starters: when Valide arrives, the atmosphere suddenly changes, the triumphant music, which sets us up for something epic and badass, but we still don't know what exactly, until these lines of dialogue are uttered, almost like a plot twist. It only looks like a moment of triumph and a character realization, it looks much more like the narrative directly calling out Mahidevran. That Valide was wrong for ever supporting her. The themes break their impartial point of view and deliver something out of absolutely nowhere to prove a point. (ironically, the scene in E56 where Valide says that Mahidevran deserved everything she endured, does a much better job in somewhat being a character realization moment, because it fit the context, wasn't put there just for.. reasons and you could actually believe the character would say that.) The worst thing is that, despite of it all, nothing mattered in the end. The post-E55 truce between Hürrem and Valide is conveniently forgotten by the themes of the next arc, due to having the power of tradition "fight" with its last forces (Valide falling ill, Mahidevran and Gülfem ruling the harem) and Hürrem having to forever burn the bridges that stand between them and her. This is reflected best in Hürrem's last encounter with Valide Sultan.

[julietnterein]

•| Violacea I. chp. 1 |•

Author's note: Hya! I'm really new to this Tumblr fan fiction world but I would like to share my fan fiction that I share for a couple of months now on wattpad, so I decided to translate it to English for you here. I would be really grateful for some tips or something like that!

Summary: 

„W-what?” I looked at the curly haired doctor, who was probably the only one, in this facility full of Earth mightiest heroes, supersoldiers and spies, that treated me like human and welcomed me with open arms. Maybe it was the similarity and the troubles which our mutagenesis brought to us. „So you think you can make my legs work again?”

He smiles a little and push his glasses a little higher on his nose. „I will try my best.”

Chapter 1.

„Alright, Andreea, I need you to tell me when you won't feel my touch, okay?” Says the doctor as she slowly put her finger on my knee. She starts to drag her finger down along my shin, but lower it gets it gets really hard for me to tell if she's still touching me or not.

„I can't feel it anymore.” I whisper as my irritation grows, because we do that everytime at every single appointment.

„That's alright.” She smiles at my mom that stands behind my back and then she helps me put my legs down so they lifelessly hang down the hospital bed. „Wanna try walking again?”

With a heavy sight I nod and my mother hands me my crutches that I use for very short distances. Doctor helps me to get to those two long hand grips. Every step is harder and harder, and I can feel my own shoulders sunken under my own weight. I was diagnosed with that when I was a toddler, I can't feel my legs from my shins to my feet, so that basically means I can't walk. Doctors told me that with some good practice I might be able to walk again, at least for really short distances, but I am definitely not anywhere near to that. At least I learn how to use the crunches because if then I would be tied down to the wheelchair.

The two other assistants help me use these weird prosthetics that basically makes my legs more steady and I can learn and train my walking. It only takes a couple of minutes because those splints are heavily tightened and my legs start draining blood.

The doctors always speculate that this thing with my legs already happened in the womb and then when I was born a couple of weeks before my due date. They had a real struggle to keep me alive and now they have another one to help me stand on my own legs at least for a couple minutes.

Today's training was more than painful, because the splints were probably much more tightened.

I hold myself steady on the hand grips as I try to do a couple shaky steps forward. But my hands were sweaty and my legs are already tired from the whole appointment that they turns into jelly almost immediately and my face ends up on the floor. My eyes starts to water as I feel the pain running through my whole body.

I sweet laugh rings through my ears and I immediately look around to see that everyone is carefully watching me for my reaction with straight faces.

„Are you okay, Andreea?” Asks my doctor.

I just shakes my head quietly as the assistants helps me stand up and take down my splints.

„We should call it a day, you seem upset.”

I didn't felt upset at all. I felt tired and irritated from all this and how is everyone treating me like a kid. I notice a small blinks from the lightbulb above my head and my doctor only nods at me once again, to signalize that she understands and we really should end our session.

I sit down to my wheelchair as my mom push me out of the room to the hall, where my doctor joins us.

„I know, how you feel, Andreea, it's tiresome and all, but you are really doing great!” She encourages me.

„Thanks.” I mutter.

„Well, I will see you on Thursday.” She pats my shoulder and then says goodbye to my mom, that pushes me to my room in another hospital wing. We decided that it would be much better for our whole family of three, that I just stay permanently in the hospital, so my parents don't have to drive me that much.

As we approach my room at the end of the hall I turn my head to look at my mom. „Will dad come tomorrow?”

She pushes my wheelchair into my room and helps me get up on my bed and then takes the crunches and puts them next to me. „He definitely will.” She smiles at me without any sign of happiness in her voice. „Do you want me to help you with anything else?”

I just shake my head and turn my head towards my window and let her leave.

In the last couple of days I felt really alone. In my room, in this facility and even in presence of my own mother. But at least I had Katherine, the girl that lived across the hall and probably my only friend here. Even though I never found out why she is here, she never had a problem with walking or her hands, but maybe it was some mental health issue. I never asked, I felt like it was none of my business.

A soft knock appears on my wooden doors and a while after that a head full of blond locks peaks into my room.

Speaking of the devil.

„I brought you dinner.” She smiles so brightly and invites herself in. „How was the appointment? Something new?” She puts the tray with food on my bed next to me.

„I was irritated more than normal, but that's probably it.” I shrug and take a fork that sits next to my plate.

Kath just nods and gives me a couple more minutes to eat some more of my own food. „So you were upset?” I look at her with my brows clicked together. What was everyone's deal today with me being upset? „I mean… Because you said you felt irritated, so you were probably upset about all of this, right?”

„Why is everyone keep asking me that?” I mutter and take another bite.

„I'm just asking if you are okay, that's it.” She smiles. „You know… If there isn't anything weird you would like to share with me?”

„I feel the same as I always do.” I say simply and turn my attention back to my food.

Kath gives me a little space to cool my head down. „Soo…” She starts again as I look at her. „Have you already looked at the quiz questions?” She looks at my table where lays all the school work that I am supposed to do.

„I was about to do it tonight.” I sigh as I look away to my window where the sun is setting slowly down, turning the skies into different shades of orange.

I can feel her staring at me.

„Alright. c'mon.”

„What?” I look at her, confused.

„Get your ass on your wheelchair.” She jump up to her legs. „C'mon I will show you something.”

I take my crunches so I can get myself to my wheelchair where I sit down and Kath starts to push me in such a way out of my room and even speeds up in the hallways.

„Kath!” I scream out as she's speeding up and it looks like we are about to hit the wall in front of us before she tooks sharp turn to the right.

She slows down and stops next to the balcony which is a secret smoking spot for nurses, and even for some cool kids from different wings. She takes out a pin out of her hair and with such ease opens the locked door.

„Where the hell did you learn this?” I ask her, totally amazed by her skill.

She just winks at me over her shoulder and pushes my wheelchair on the balcony. And quietly waits as I take the whole scenery in.

The sun is setting down behind the tall trees that are getting darker and darker with the last light, but there are still a couple of beams that still shines through the branches and warms my cheeks.

„It's cool, right?”

„Yea.” I nod. „Really cool.” I turn my head towards the scenery again.

„I discovered that place a couple days ago and I knew you would love it.” She tells me, proud at herself that once again she helped to brighten my mood once again.

„Thanks, Kath.” I smile at her as she pushes my wheelchair back to my room.

„No problem.” She shrugs as she goes into my room and helps me to get up to my bed. „I should really head back to my room, but you know where to find me.” She smiles and leaves my room.

I take my crunches once again to help myself get on a chair and to my table to work on my school work. But as long as I sit there and look at all the weird questions I get more and more angry. These questions have nothing to do with my knowledge or anything. It was stupid.

A lightbulb in my lamp starts to flick a little.

„Do you get angry easily?” I repeat the stupid question quietly as I am trying to answer it on the paper. But as I am about to answer it my lightbulb's sharps fly into whole directions and I push my chair quickly away from the table with a loud shriek.

A nurse runs into my room almost immediately.

„Are you alright?

„I-I… Uh… y-yes.” I look around at the mess. „My lightbulb.” The nurse helps me clean it and then helps me get to my bed.

„I will bring you a new one tomorrow, okay?” She smiles at me from the door.

„Yeah, that's alright. Thanks.”

She smiles one more time and then turns off the switch.

Chp. 2

[thenightgazer]

Spark of Stardust

Chapter 1 : An Interstellar Quest It's not a date. Vergil insists upon it, even when he doubts himself as he asks Lyra to accompany him to search for a perfect birthday gift for Kyrie. But just like the dying star that sparks its undying stardust; the "date" is just a start for him to get to know more about Lyra, as the librarian reveals her "little, deepest and darkest secrets"

Warning : implied psychological and drug abuse

Part 6 of Tales of Apotelesma

You can also read this fic on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~

It starts with a soft hand that brushes his face. The fuzzy sensation wakes him up. The lamp on the ceiling is the first thing he sees when he slowly opens his eyes wide awake. His eyes linger to his surroundings— and that shocks him because he’s no longer in his bedroom at Devil May Cry. He’s awakened in someone else’s bedroom. The wall is painted with warm colours and there is a large bookshelf besides the bed. When he turns his head to his left, he spots toys and trinkets which supposedly belong to a little girl, and there sits a young woman who smiles at him.

Where am I?

“How was your sleep?” she asks him. Her soft hand ruffles his hair gently. “You look so peaceful.”

He’s speechless. Not because he doesn’t want to answer, but his mouth won’t cooperate with his head. His survival instincts scream at him to get away from this situation, but all he could feel is numbness.

“I brought you dinner,” the beautiful woman continues. He observes her cautiously; she is approximately in her thirties, with long brunette hair and brown eyes. She looks like the kind of woman who looks absolutely harmless. The way her body moves is delicate. Her voice sounds appealing as she tells him the menu and hopes he will like it. She gives him the same warm impression as his own mother, but this woman seems shady. Her eyes remind him of someone... but he couldn’t remember the person. The same cold, void eyes...

“The nurse said you haven’t eaten since last night. You refused to take your medicines. Why? Don’t you want to get better?” Her voice turns colder. “When I heard that you refused to eat, I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I’m afraid you won’t get better. Now you will eat and take your medicine for me, okay?”

He can’t follow everything she has said just now. Who is this woman? What medicines? What nurse? But his head nods automatically as if his body is controlled by someone else, and that little gesture makes this woman’s warm smile appear on her pretty face again.

“Good. Let’s eat! After that, I’ll read you something exciting. How’s that sound?”

He nods obediently, opening his mouth to eat the porridge. He can’t feel the taste, nor can he sense the texture of the food. But the woman looks at him as if she would blast if he didn’t eat. The sound of friction between the spoon and the bowl drives him crazy. She’s making sure that he swallows the food as she cleans up his mouth. After the bowl is empty, she proceeds to pour something from a bottle—medicine— on a small spoon and look up at him, opening her mouth as a command for him to mimic her gesture. She seems delighted when he swallows the medicine.

“Atta girl.”

What is this nonsense? What is that thing she put inside me?

But he knows he won’t get the answer.

It’s all just a dream, right?

The woman walks to the bookshelf. Her fingers run through the book until she finds the one she desires. She sits back besides him again and opens the book, her fingers scan through the pages.

“You don’t like Cinderella, so I picked up this one,” she shows him the cover of the book. “I guarantee you’ll like it! It’s called The Hobbit, an adventure story. Your favourite, right?”  

I do like adventure stories. But it isn’t my favourite. It’s Dante’s…

She starts her storytelling in a clear voice. “In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit...”

There’s something in her face when she reads. She seems more relaxed and softer than before, as if she got lost in the story. His suspicion is surprisingly gone while he listens to her and the familiarity strikes him again. She reminds him of his own mother when he was a child, reading him bedtime stories. Cambions in their early childhood needed a lot of sleep just like human children, but Dante and he always refused to sleep early and asked for more stories. There’s something peaceful about this familiarity. It calms him, then he decides to close his eyes again whilst the woman’s voice slowly fades away.

---

The dream shatters as Vergil’s cell phone rings loudly.

The hybrid lays still on his bed. He was sleeping for two hours just because he had no other options left to do aside from sleeping. Yet, even though his body doesn’t particularly need to sleep, he hates it when his slumber is interrupted. His hand reaches to find his phone and immediately pick it when he finds it on the desk beside his bed without seeing who’s calling him because he doesn’t bother to open his sleepy eyes.

“Dad?”

That familiar voice forces Vergil to open his eyes.

“Nero?”

“Yeah. You busy?”

“No,” Vergil throws a blanket from his naked chest as he moves his body to sit and brushes his hair. “What’s wrong, Nero?”

Nero doesn’t reply immediately. Vergil can hear a heavy sigh from his son and that makes him a bit anxious.  

“Nothing wrong. Just...” The young devil hunter lets out another sigh. “Today is Kyrie’s birthday. She invites you and the crews for dinner at six. Uh… six as in Fortuna time, which is an hour later from Red Grave time. Just in case you got lost in time again.”

“Of course. We will be attending the dinner. Thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s Kyrie who invites you, not me.”

“...”

“... but having you around here is not so bad. The kids were always whining whenever you and Dante left the house.” Nero’s response is almost excited and eager, much to Vergil’s relief.

The picture of Julio, Carlo and Kyle somehow makes Vergil grins. “You did very well taking care of those little rascals.”

“Thanks,” there’s a pause before Nero continues. “Anyway, I should get going. Nico needs my help to do some crazy shit.”

“I hope all is well for you.”

“You too, I guess...” the young man clears his throat. “And... thank you. For accepting the invitation.”

“It’s the least I could do,” The blue devil smiles, his anxiety is gone as their interaction goes smoothly. “Carry on, son.”

“Y-yeah— bye, then.”

Warmth fills Vergil’s heart as he cleans up his bed and folds the blanket neatly. Never in his life would he have thought that he’d become a father. Even though it was unplanned, having a son does change his life. He has no parental figures to ask advice from and those parenting books are not helping at all, but he learns at his own pace. Two years of effort of atonement is nothing compared to his sins, yet he wants the very best for Nero and is very protective to him.

Then the word stings him.

Birthday, huh?  

Ever since he was a little boy, Vergil has never understood the concept of celebrating birthdays. For him, birthday is just another day to pass. If anything, it seems like people love to celebrate the day when their life spans decrease. People are getting old, so what? Why do we celebrate that irony? Is that because of the presents and cake? Little Vergil never found the answer, but he did feel happy whenever he received presents and ate his birthday cake, even if that means he had to share it with his twin, Dante (he had given up the dream of having his own cake, since being twins means sharing almost everything). He didn’t even think about birthdays until Nero reminded him.

I wonder if he knows his birthday...

Vergil walks to the bathroom and washes his face. He looks at the mirror and the man guy in the mirror stares back at him. His reflection somehow reminds him of the strange dream. What was that dream about? It seems visceral, like it was my own memory. His heartbeat gets faster when he has a dreadful negative thought that it could be Mundus’ mind manipulation. If that was Mundus, it’s too pointless. He’d use my own memories to torture me, not with some kind of irrelevant vision.

“Mornin’,” Dante shoves himself besides Vergil and yawns. “I’m hungry.”

“Pleased to meet you, Hungry.”

Dante bursts into laughter. “Since when are you into dad jokes?”

“I’ll take the shower first.” Ignoring Dante’s question, Vergil picks up a dry towel and gets inside the shower cubicle.

Dante takes off his shirt and stretches his muscles. He washes his face and begins to shave his beard. “You said you fought Angelo demons at last week’s gig, right? Heard from Lady the same Angelo demons got sighted at another city. We still don’t have any information on who created and summoned them.”

Vergil wipes the droplets of water from his face. “It seems like those Angelo demons were none like all the artificial demons we have ever seen before. Their form, their abilities, their durability. They looked rather... futuristic, I'd say. I got an impression that the new Angelo was created mostly by advanced science rather than magic.”

“Another thing happened these past weeks. There are three outbursts at restricted medical facilities in different cities.”

“What medical facility?”

“Trish said that the three of them were research laboratories owned by Ravenhill Corporation.”

“Isn’t that the same corporation that won a peace award or something like that?”

“Yeah. The Ravenhills are an influential aristocrat with power over the health and security industry. Most of the health facilities in this world are sponsored and if not, owned by Ravenhill Corporation. They have a branch company here in this city too.”

“And do you think those incidents have a connection with the appearance of Angelo demons?”      

“Just a gut feeling, but that’s worth investigating, better safe than sorry, aight?” Dante brushes his hair and flips it back like Vergil. “Hey, I look just like you with this hairstyle! Perhaps I should go with this style from now on.”

“If you’re done talking, get out of the bathroom.”

“This is MY bathroom!”

“And I’m the one who cleans up the mess you’ve created in this house, Dante.”

“Fine~!” Dante chuckles as he cleans up the remaining shaving foam from his jaw. “Have you bought something for Kyrie’s birthday? Got missed calls and a text about the dinner party from Nero.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ve been thinking of giving her a fancy revolver. Heard from Nero that she’s quite good at using guns.”

“... do you really think that women fancy weapons as a gift?”

“Trish and Lady do. But hey! You can go ask our clever librarian!” Dante's face lightens up in exhilaration.

Vergil turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist as he opens the cubicle. “What do you mean by ’our’?!”

“Yours, then. She’s a normal civilian woman. Perhaps she can recommend you a perfect gift for Kyrie.”

No, if only you know that she’s not normal! “... you’re probably right.”

A teasing whistle comes from Dante as he takes off his pants and walks inside the cubicle. “As Yoda said, Verge, ‘ do or do not. There is no try ’. Call her and ask her out for a date.”

“I’m not taking any advice from a man who has rotten luck with women. And who is Yoda?”

“Call it what you want it. If you’re not asking her out, I’ll go ask her by myself.”

“Not before I step over your dead body.”

“Ha! Someone’s jealous for realsies~”

Vergil walks away from the bathroom before his inner turmoil tempts him to try to kill Dante… again. His insolent brother might have been teasing him too much, but in a way he’s right. He needs to find someone trusted enough to help him buy the perfect gift for Kyrie.

But she’s on duty today is her work day. I won’t make it right on time to the party if I have to wait for her shift to end.

He’s still thinking about it when he enters his room on the second floor and grabs his phone. Lyra’s contact name is showing up, but he hesitates. It’s still 9 o’clock. The library must have just opened.

After having a quite long internal battle with himself, he decides to call her anyway.

It takes a little bit long for Lyra to finally pick up her phone. Vergil catches the sound of her voice and a man’s laugh who Vergil assumes is Nate. “Bugger off for a minute, will you? — Clayton here.”

“Lyra.”

“Oh, hello Vergil!”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all! Is there anything I can help you with?”

“... yes.”

“Are you okay? You sound like you want to cry.”

“I am certainly not,” Vergil groans at Lyra’s giggle. “Yet, I do believe I need your help.”

“Name it!”

“... it’s about a birthday present.” Vergil clears his throat. “Do you remember Kyrie, my son’s fiancée? She will be celebrating her birthday this evening. She invited Dante and I to her house for dinner.”

“I see.”

“Kyrie has always been there for Nero,” he continues. “She helped guide him to become the person he is now. She took care of him while I wasn’t there for him. She’s an important person to my son. That’s why... at least I have to show her some respect.”

“By giving her a decent birthday present.”

“Yes.”

“I think she will appreciate everything you give to her.”

“She will, certainly. She’s too polite to reject a present, but I don’t want her to think that I’m a careless father-in-law by giving her a gratuitous gift.”

“You’re right. I’d be delighted to accompany you to buy the present, but…I’m on duty right now. I’m afraid I couldn't help you any further.”

“That I know. That’s why I call for your advice.”

“I suggest something small, but meaningful. You told me she love to sing, right? Maybe a vinyl of classical music would — what in the bloody—! Nate! Give me back my phone at once!”

Vergil hears them grumbling and arguing at something. He considers to just hang up the phone given to his hunch that Lyra and Nate are probably having a fight right now, but suddenly he hears Nate’s voice as the young librarian speaks to him.

“Mr. Vergil? It’s Nate!”

This scoundrel's audacity...! “I recognize your voice, Nathaniel. What are you doing with Lyra’s phone?”

“Err... sorry for the interruption, but Lyra forced me to tell you this myself, or else you won’t believe her! I told her that I don’t mind if she wants to go on a date with you! My father won’t be checking on the library today!” Nate lets out a dry chuckle to break the ice, but since Vergil says nothing, Nate continues to speak. “She insisted on at least working today, so I told her to finish the duty earlier so she could spend her time with you. That’s all! Oh yeah, a little advice here; Lyra has a terrible sense of direction, means that you should hold her close— ouch!”  

A sound of a book slapped on Nate’s head comes to Vergil’s ear. The next is Lyra’s nervous voice talking to him. “Vergil? You heard Nate. So... we meet at three. How’s that sound?”

“I’ll pick you up at the library.”

“Okay!”

“Then... I’ll see you around.”

“Cheerio!”

Vergil hangs up the phone, unexpectedly feeling the queasiness after he recalls the word ‘date’ as Dante and Nate said earlier. Foolish. We are not dating. We are just going to buy a birthday present. That’s all. Stop this unnecessary disquietude. It’s just Lyra—

“Tell me you’re not gonna go on a date with your boring clothes!”

Vergil hardly glances to his side and sees Patty’s figure standing by his door. The twenty years old girl is wearing an apron and holding a broom in her hand. “At least wear something stylish! You and Dante are all hopeless! No wonder the two of you haven’t gotten married yet!”

“I believe that’s none of your concern, Miss Lowell. And although I lack what humans would consider common sense, the last time I know about human norms and etiquette, that it is rude to trespass on someone's private space and eavesdrop on other people’s conversation.”

“I’m not eavesdropping! I just happened to pass this room while cleaning this house because lately you are not present in this house and Dante is being a lazy bastard as usual! Show some gratitude!”

“Thank you for your help. But as you can see now, I am here and that means I will do the household job while you can go disturb Dante’s peace now.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Dante shouts from the first floor.

“Anyways, let me help you to choose better clothes for you!” Patty insists. “I don’t know who this girl is because Dante won’t tell me, but she seems special to you. You need to dress at your best! Impressing a girl on their first date is a must!”

“I’ll forgive your impudent attitude this time if you kindly close the door, Miss Lowell. I need to put some clothes on.”

Realizing that Vergil wears nothing but a towel wrapped on his waist, Patty flusters as she looks away and grabs the door knob violently. “Fine!”

The blue devil chuckles softly when he hears Patty goes downstairs and screams at Dante for whatever antics that he does right now. He searches through his wardrobe, pondering if Patty was right. And maybe she is. He’s about to blend into society, that means he needs to look less suspicious. He should wear something casual and humane.

Humans and their fashion. Even demons are much simpler.

He picks some clothes with a hope that he won’t look too ridiculous.

---

“Do you think he’s the type of person who brings flowers for a date?” Nate throws paper planes at Lyra’s direction, which she blocks it all with a book.

“Why do you insist that this is a date? We are friends. Friends go hang out sometimes.” Lyra says.

“Dammit, Lyre! You are older than me but I can’t believe you’re so clueless about this. Even idiots could tell that he likes you!”

Lyra groans desperately. “That’s it. That’s the problem of modern society. People nowadays confuse politeness with flirting!”

“Sometimes both work simultaneously! And that’s the case of Mr. Vergil. Sure, he’s polite to everyone even though he always looks like he wanted to kill someone. But he’s different with you; he’s not just polite, but kind. That’s two different things!”

Lyra half-heartedly listens to Nate’s babble; despite she already knows what is inside Nate’s mind. She knows what he means about Vergil being kind only to her, and Nate’s mind interprets how soft Vergil is whenever he’s around her. The thought of those forms of romanticism confuses her. Being a telepath, she has seen and listened into people’s minds for almost her entire life. She’s no stranger to the concept of love according to universal belief, yet she still doubts its existence.

Sometimes, what people think about something isn’t always synchronized with how they feel about it.

And speaking of which, I haven’t heard Nate’s thoughts since fifteen seconds ago...

“He’s here!” Nate declares as he looks up at the window near the front door. “Wait, uh... is it really him?”

“What?”

“He looks... different.” Nate mumbles. “And he didn’t bring flowers. Guess he’s not the flower type of guy.”

“On the contrary, he is.” Lyra takes a brief look at her appearance in the mirror and puts on eyeglasses before giving a wink at Nate. “See you tomorrow!”

“Now who’s excited about the date!?”

She giggles throughout her journey to the front door, only to be surprised when she opens the door and finds Vergil standing in front of her and about to open the door too. But today he looks stunningly different; he is wearing as black shirt beneath a navy-blue casual coat. His dark trousers make him look taller than usual. He changes his footwear into a pair of black chukka boots. Even with his usual warrior clothes, Vergil Sparda is already breathtakingly handsome. His casual look just enhances his majestic stature.  

Lyra has never really given any attention to fashion, but now she can’t take her eyes off of him. “What’s with the sudden change in your sense of fashion?”  

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it!” she blurts. “You look… so… normal”

“Is it just me or does it sound like an insult?”

“It’s a compliment!”

“... thank you, I suppose,” Vergil reluctantly scratches his nape. “Shall we go now?”

“Let’s!”

Lyra glares at Nate who’s giving her double thumbs up and loudly wishing her good luck before she closes the door.

“So,” the librarian walks side by side with Vergil. “Do you remember I mentioned that I purchased my devil arm at an antique shop?”

“Yes. What’s with that?”

“I think it’s a good place to start our quest. The shop sells antique weapons, jewelries, old books and trinkets. Perfect collection for Kyrie.”

“Very well. Where’s this shop located?”

“Nova Town.”

“It’s too far from here.”

“Lucky for us, you have Yamato.”

“I’m beginning to think that you see me as a mere means tool of transportation.”

“Maybe,” she winks playfully. “But you are too decent to be a mere tool, my dearest friend.”

The hybrid rolls his eyes, “Let’s find an empty alley first.”

---

“That was the first time I saw Lyra smiling like that,” Nate mutters at himself as he taps something on his cell phone. “Good for her! Ever since I saw their chemistry on the murder in the library weeks ago, I know they’re going to form a relationship soon!”

The twenty four years old librarian giggles at his own fantasy while drowning himself further into a mobile game he always plays whenever he has free time. He almost startled himself when the bell rings and a customer comes in. Nate abruptly pauses the game and greets the guest. “Welcome to The Literarium!”

The guest — a tall and ginger-haired man — returns Nate’s greeting with a nod. A suspicion arises in Nate’s head as he observes the man’s eyes that are covered with sunglasses. Why the hell does he wear sunglasses indoors? He continues to follow the man’s movement, which is also suspicious. The man seems detached from reality as he stares at one of the shelves quite long without really doing anything, not even touching the books. He walks slowly to another section, again without any interest in the books. The man seems eager to look for something as he repeatedly tilts his head to look outside the window, but Nate is certain that he’s not here for books. Then why bother coming here if he’s not interested in books? Nate clicks his pen anxiously. Paranoia begins to consume him. What if he wants to rob this place?!

The ginger-haired man approaches the sale section and finally picks a book. He looks at the cover briefly before heading to the counter. Nate fakes a polite smile when he scans the book— Lord of the Flies by William Golding— and forces himself to make a small talk. “Fine day, isn’t it?”

The man nods while giving Nate his money. “I agree.”

“You like allegorical one, huh?”

The man furrows his brow. “Sorry?”

Nate lifts the copy of Lord of the Flies . “You don’t know that Golding wrote one of the best allegorical novels all the time?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I only recognized it as one of the bestseller books,” the man chuckles. His laughter surprisingly sounds very friendly. “I picked it because the synopsis reminds me of the past.”

“Jesus, what a chaotic past you must have back then.” Nate gives him the book and his change.

“Quiet so,” the man flips the page, but Nate can sense he’s focusing on another thing. “By the way, the woman who wears eyeglasses… She came out from this place with a man about five minutes ago. Does she work here?”

Shit, another Lyra’s admirer. That explains my suspicion! “Yeah. You know her?”

“She looks like a person I used to know. Quite different, but I spot some similarities.”

“Maybe they are the same person?”

“The same person?” the man chuckles again as he closes the book. “That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“She died years ago.”

“Oh, man… I’m so sorry...”

“It’s fine. She wasn’t related to me, just a person I knew. At first glance, your friend looks eerily similar to her,” the man’s face abruptly turns into doubt and anxious. Nate swears he can see his hands tremble. “I was terribly surprised when I saw your friend out there. I thought the woman I knew was alive again. What is the name? Your lady friend, I mean.”

“Louisa.” Nate lightly says his lie as soon as he’s aware of the man’s intention. I’m not doing anything wrong. Lyra told me to fake a name in case some flirty bastards ask me her name.

“Louisa, then. Pretty name,” the man seems pleased at Nate’s answer. “Thank you. Lovely library, anyway. Good day for you.”

“Thank you. Happy reading and have a good day!”

He’s different from any of Lyra’s secret admirers, Nate feels uneasy about the man’s strange attitude even though the man has already taken his leave. He makes a mental note to contact Lyra soon after he closes the library. “That guy looks like he’s about to plan something fishy. But I can’t disturb Lyra and Mr. Vergil right now.”

Nate grabs his cell phone and restarts the game with a hope that nothing bad would happen.

---

She’s strangely quiet today.

Ever since they arrived at Nova Town, Vergil catches something unusual from Lyra. She guides the way to the antique shop without talking to him but carefully watches her surroundings. But at the same time, she seems to lose her focus and sometimes stares blankly at something. They have been walking for almost 30 minutes and they haven’t arrived at the antique shop yet. Also, that’s not the only thing from her that is unusual... “You wear eyeglasses.”

“Huh?” Lyra automatically touches her eyeglasses. “Why? You don’t like a girl with eyeglasses?”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“You have a funny way to compliment others, don’t you?”

“I have never seen you wearing eyeglasses before. I thought I was looking at a completely different person when you opened the door earlier.”

“I always wear eyeglasses whenever I’m out to shop, just for aesthetic purposes. I’ll take it off if that makes you uncomfortable—”

“Please don’t. You look lovely with that.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Are we getting closer to the shop?”

“… I think so?”

Vergil stops abruptly, “Tell me we are not lost.”

“W-we’re not!” she stutters in panic. “I’m just having a little confusion here, because this town looks different from the last time I came here. It has only been two years and the town is already changing...”

“Are you even certain that we are in the right town?”

“One hundred percent certain!”

“Then tell me,” Vergil curves a devilish grin. “Is Nathaniel right? That you have a terrible sense of direction?”

A light blush blooms on Lyra’s face. “Uh... yeah— but we are in the right town! For real! Just because I have a terrible sense of direction, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”

“Yet we are lost, aren’t we?”

“We are not! See that monument over there? It’s the town’s icon. We just have to turn left to that road and the antique shop should be on the right corner.”

Vergil watches the monument that Lyra mentioned before he glances at her again with doubtful looks. “Alright, then. But why don’t you use… what is it again... GPS?”

“Later. I’m practicing my sense of direction by practicing my telepathic ability.”

“Does your telepathic ability have something to do with your sense of direction?”

“Since the murder in the library, I’m practicing to read people’s mind whenever you’re around me because your magical defense blocks my telepathic ability. Normally, all I need to do is just focus on their minds and find out if some of them have knowledge of the place I’m about to go.”

“Why bother? You still can read minds by touching their body parts.”

“That’s impractical! Not everyone wants to be touched. Just imagine if I need to touch a person with haphephobia.”

“I thought you like it when you don’t have to read minds anymore.”

“Just in case of an emergency. Who knows if we would find any strange cases again, or if I’m stuck with Dante and there’s an urgent situation where I’m required to smuggle into someone’s head.”

“Hold on. Your telepathy doesn’t work on Dante too?”

“I guess the power of Sparda includes protection from telepaths.”

“I see. Now I understand,” Vergil scoffs. “The reason why you were awfully quiet since we stepped in this town is that you tried to practice your telepathic ability to find out the antique shop’s direction, so you won’t embarrass yourself in front of me because you have poor sense of direction and you think having to use GPS would make you look unreliable as a guide.”

Lyra hides her hands behind her back and stares at the ground, which to Vergil indicates that everything he said is true and that she’s embarrassed to admit it. To be very honest, he doesn’t think that Lyra does something wrong. He just wants to clarify things behind her unusual behavior, but it unconsciously sounds like he’s scolding her for her little secret.

“Just use the GPS if you need it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. That won’t make me think less of you.”

Lyra seems to hesitate at first, but eventually shrugs and takes her phone out from her bag. Vergil quietly smirks at her surrender.

“Fortunately, we’re on the right track!” She shows Vergil the map. “Thank you for your encouragement, Vergil. That’s the longest advice you ever said to me.”

He shrugs it off. “I guess that’s what friends are for.”

“Still, that means a lot to me.”

“Just forget it. Then how’s your practice going?”

“Still doing my best. The first time I tried to read someone’s mind without touching them whenever you were around me, it was all nothing. But now I can see blurry images and hear buzzing sound!” She smiles at him, her eyes beam as she points at the rustic shop at the corner of the street. “Look! We've arrived!”

When Vergil enters the antique shop, he expects the shopkeeper to greet them with unstoppable pestering offers like all the shopkeepers normally do. That’s why he hates shopping. Thankfully the shopkeeper is sleeping on the counter, like she doesn’t care if someone steals one of the items. The shop itself is quiet and the goods are all unique. The problem is, Vergil doesn’t know where to start searching. There are many items that Vergil puts a certain degree of interest in—necklaces, bracelets, clocks, paintings—but he doesn’t think that it would be useful or meaningful to Kyrie. He starts to think about Dante’s suggestion to give her a weapon for self-protection. It seems easier than this endless searching.

“Do you know the biggest dilemma when it comes to shopping? You expect to find a certain thing, but when you’re in the shop, suddenly you’re not sure what to buy anymore.” Lyra chuckles at Vergil’s confused expression.

“Evidently,” Vergil picks an antique revolver. “I think I want to give her a weapon.”

“Is Kyrie an excellent combatant?”

“She can take care of herself, though she still needs a lot of practice, but she won’t survive a second if she had to fight multiple opponents.”

“Mmmm... okay but... how about something for protection from the demons?”

“That will do. It’s way more practical and useful.”

“Alright. Let’s ask the shopkeeper.”

Vergil points his chin at the counter. “She’s sleeping.”

“I’ll wake her up.” Lyra fixates her focus on the shopkeeper until she slowly raises her head from the counter table and rubs her eyes.

Vergil almost couldn’t hide his amusement. She can wake someone up from slumber? How advanced is her ability actually?

The shopkeeper yawns loudly. “Welcome. How can I help y’all?”

“We’re looking for an item for protection from demons. Do you have anything suitable for that?” Lyra asks.

The shopkeeper looks straight to Lyra’s eyes, then to Vergil’s. She sighs as she walks to the weapon cabinet. “I don’t have much of that, but I have this one. Take a look.” she mumbles, handing Lyra a red music box. The music box looks captivating with a rose pattern carved on the box. When Lyra opens the music box, Vergil recognizes the box is playing Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier.

“Lovely, but I don’t see what’s so special about the music box,” Vergil mutters his doubt.  

“Easy, dude. Push the button near the mirror to open the secret room behind it.”

Lyra does the exact instruction until the secret room is opened and reveals a golden bracelet inside.

“What’s that for?” Lyra asks.

“It will glow red whenever there's demons nearby,” the shopkeeper lights her cigarette and walks back to the counter. “When the bracelet glows, you press it and close your eyes, because it will cast a very blinding light. It’ll blind and burn demons and that’s the best time for you to run away.”

Lyra glances at Vergil, who’s examining the music box and the bracelet. She holds her giggle when she notices that the bracelet glows in red when Vergil holds it and abruptly puts it back to the secret room behind the mirror before the shopkeeper notices it.

“I guess the bracelet couldn’t distinguish demons and cambions,” she whispers to him.

“This should be fine,” Vergil forms a satisfied grin. “It has both protection advantage and aesthetical function. Perfect.”

“You take that?!” the shopkeeper shouts eagerly.

“Yes,” Vergil replies. “Is there a money-back guarantee in case the item doesn’t properly work?”

“This is an antique shop, dude. Some items might not working at all—”

“I believe I don’t have to repeat myself.” Vergil insists.

The shopkeeper gulps at Vergil’s unspeakable death threat within his icy eyes, knowing that there’s no use to argue with a man like Vergil. “Dammit, fine! Now can I get my money?”

Lyra howls with laughter, “Blimey, you are a terrifying customer.”

Vergil grins in pride as he heads to the counter.

---

The birthday party will begin in an hour, but Vergil chooses to spend the rest of the time with Lyra at the Sparda Manor. During the day time, they only meet in the library. That makes their little adventure today seem rare... and fun. Lyra buys them ice creams at the end of their journey in Nova Town. She can’t hold her laughter when she catches Vergil’s eyes sparking in childish interest as he holds his ice cream once the magic portal opens its way to the Manor.

“The shopkeeper was different from the one whom I met two years ago. He was nice and helpful,” Lyra murmurs, licking her bubblegum ice cream. “Guess he didn’t work there anymore. We get a sleepyhead instead.”

Vergil says nothing as he examines his blueberry ice cream cone. His memory of V eating cheeseburger hits him. “Why do humans think that creating something messy is a good idea?”

“It’s called innovation, Vergil.”

“Messy innovation.”

“As long as people like it, it is considered as a great innovation.”

He finally gives up and chomps his ice cream. “This is not bad.”

“Tell me this is not your first time eating ice cream.”

“I might be inexperienced in human lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I never tasted ice cream.”

It’s strange, Vergil recalls the moment when they used to be strangers before Almagest helped them to get closer. Now they stand side by side and talk about stuff like old friends to the point where he could never get enough of her companionship. He lets her wander around his childhood house, even if he barely calls it a house now. He lets out a silent chuckle when she lifts a pile of rocks up to the air just to see what hides behind it, only to find another ruins and she’s slightly disappointed.

“For a second I thought your father was Johann Sebastian Bach.” Lyra looks up at Sparda’s family painting.

“You are not the first person who said that.”

She laughs. “Oh look at you… stoic since you were born. And I already got a picture on Dante being impatient while the painter kept asking him to stand still.”

“Pretty much correct. He complained how itchy his feet were at the end of the session.”

“Your mother was gorgeous,” Lyra admires Eva’s angelic stature. “No wonder Sparda fell for her.”

Vergil forms a wistful smile. “She was.”

“This painting reminds me of The Picture of Dorian Gray .”

“Pray tell, why?”

“Dorian sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth, and it decayed his self-portrait painting every time he did a sin. Of course your family portrait is a different case, but you see, your mother’s face is the only one that didn’t get burned by fire. It’s like a sign that she was the only human in the family…”

“And the rest of the family members were cursed by the evil blood that ran in their veins. That’s why the faces of the three of us were burned. That’s a picturesque perspective.”

“I didn’t say that demon is always evil—”

“I know. Still, it’s a good metaphor. Haven’t thought of it myself.”

“Why don’t you take the painting with you? People keep their family portrait in their house.”

“Dante and I agreed to leave it here as a sign that this mansion once belonged to our family. Besides, I can’t imagine such a painting to be hanged on the shop’s soiled wall. It would be a disgrace for the painting itself.”

“Now that you mentioned it, I think you are right.”

Lyra continues to lift some rocks and put it back carefully once she finds nothing interesting.. “Have you been in there again after you escaped the Underworld with Dante?”

“To collect mementos, yes. Though, as you can see, nothing much was left since Urizen destroyed the whole city. Not to mention almost all parts of the house were destroyed or blocked by pillars and huge stones. We tried to remove them, but it’d cause a domino effect throughout the manor and demolish it completely.” 

“How did it feel to visit your childhood home again?”

Vergil swallows his ice cream at once. He puts a handkerchief out from his coat and wipes his lips. “It felt mostly heartbreaking.”

“I see,” Lyra nods and gives Vergil a light pat on his shoulder. “Not everyone could even come back to the place where their trauma began. Not that it’s necessary. I just found it encouraging.”

“Speaking of memento, what was the most valuable present you had ever received?” Vergil curiously asks.

“Oh, we start to have a small talk now?”

“I thought we agreed to trust each other, don’t we? Then we should start from mundane things.”

“Alright. Make sense. Let me recall it… mmmm… oh right! A lyre!”

“You play lyre? Amazing.”

“I thought you were about to say ironic.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You know, a lyre plays a lyre.”

Vergil smirks, recalling her remark on their previous little adventure, “You’re right. It’s ironically amazing.”

The librarian rolls her eyes as she bites the ice cream cone. “My mum bought me one for my fifth birthday. It only lasted for two months before I asked her to give me a harp for the next birthday.”

“Did she finally buy you a harp?”

“She didn’t.”

“Why?”

“She died before my next birthday.”

Vergil immediately stared at Lyra’s sullen eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles at him, chewing the last part of her cone. “It was a long time ago.”

Lyra has so many things she hides behind her amicable demeanor, and Vergil should’ve feel relieved because after all these months, Lyra finally opens up a little bit about her family, yet he doesn’t feel it at all.

“Were you close with your mother?” Vergil’s tone is full of consideration.

Lyra taps her fingers on her chin. “I guess so. We only had each other.”

“… How did she… die?”

The librarian smirks at him. “If I told you she fell from the tree, would you believe me?”

“Only if that’s the truth.”

She goes silent for a while, seeming unwilling to continue her story. She opens an empty drawer, looking at nothingness for a while. “You might’ve heard about her.”

“Your mother?”

“Uh-uh,” Lyra nods calmly, but Vergil senses a slight hesitation. “Her name was Asteria Crescent.”

Impossible! “The award-winning astronomer?”

“Astrobiologist, yes.”

“I see. That explains your fondness of astronomy.”

The first time Vergil heard about Asteria Crescent was when he was eleven years old, still homeless and constantly moved out from place to place in search of power. Asteria’s groundbreaking research of modern astrobiology broke the news. Her discovery led the scientists to rethink human’s position in this world and question the exact location of the Underworld in the known universe, considering demons as an extraterrestrial creature with its own origin and evolution. Demons and magic are inseparable, but Asteria Crescent was brave to make a further step to explain demonology in a scientific approach. Science and magic are two sides of a coin , Vergil recalls her statements. Science just has yet to understand magic.

“Asteria was a Titan goddess of falling stars and nighttime divinations. That suited her very well,” Lyra chuckles bitterly, swinging her hand to lift a pile of ruins back to its place. “I once wondered why she didn’t name me Hecate, daughter of Asteria and goddess of witchcraft. Maybe at that time, she didn’t have a thought that someday I’ll develop this… psychic ability.”

“The media never reported anything regarding her cause of death. It happened all so sudden, they said.”

“They always spoke highly of her. But when she died, they turned the story into rumors and gossip.”

“So did she fall from the tree?”

“She did fall.”

“But not from the tree.”

Vergil’s demonic eyes catch Lyra’s body slightly flinching, but she maintains her calmness and fakes a smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you further about your private life.”

“You entrusted me your biggest secret. I intend to do so. I’m just… not ready to open up, but I know that I want to.”

“When I said that we should try to trust each other, I didn't mean that you should abruptly open yourself to me.”

“Too late. Now you know I’m the daughter of a dead astrobiologist.”

“Why did you change your surname then?”

Lyra stops and gazes at Vergil. She seems anxious while glancing at her surroundings carefully, as if she’s afraid that someone else would hear them. Vergil slightly bows his body when Lyra whispers in his ear.

“I’m being hunted.”

The furrow on Vergil’s brow is going deeper. “By whom?”

“Someone who wants to abuse my power. That’s why I need to change my surname and hang out around wearing eyeglasses, so people won’t find out about my identity.”

For a moment, they stand still there, staring at each other’s eyes to find some clues. It’s logical that Lyra’s unique ability would attract power-seekers, be it humans or demons. Vergil knows it too well; the danger of possessing a greater power. A part of him wants to believe her words…

If only he failed to spot a subtle grin on the corner of her lips.

I would be absolutely fooled by her deception, Vergil grunts discontentedly. "You are lying, aren’t you?”

Lyra’s laughter echoes throughout the lake.

Vergil snarls at her unstoppable giggle. "Quite a jester, I see.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Vergil doesn’t bother to reply, because he knows it would lead to another bickering. He doesn’t try to hide his amused smile too, even though Lyra teases him about the ‘sly devil smile’. To be honest, he couldn’t care less. He just wants to see her smile, her true smile.

Like the way she’s smiling right now.

“Do you want to have a look at the lake?” Vergil offers, trying to lift the mood. “There’s nothing left to see here.”

“Sure!”

They sit on the cobblestone pier in the lake while admiring the twilight sky. It’s Vergil’s favorite place, ever since he was a child. This place has changed; there are no more Qliphoth roots left and there are several trees and wildflowers growing on the land. The lake no longer contains human blood. It’s mesmerizing how fast time flies and changes the entire city.

“I used to spend my days here, reading and playing with Dante,” Vergil says. “We loved being here more than staying indoors.”

“I can see the reason. It’s bloody beautiful here.” Lyra mutters her admiration. She taps her fingers on the cobblestone playfully, causing a small rift in the lake.

“Dante once pushed me to the lake because we fought over a chocolate bar,” Vergil recalls one of his precious memories. “I pretended to be drowned. He pulled me out of the water and cried, pleaded to me for not leaving him alone and that he’s sorry. Promised me that he won’t disturb me again. Right when he shook my body to wake me up, I pushed him to the lake but he managed to drag me with him.”

Lyra can’t hold her howls of laughter. She chortles until her stomach hurts and her throat gets sore. Vergil swears he never saw her laughing like this. “I’m sorry— I— HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Lower your voice,” Vergil grunts. He starts to regret his decision for rambling about his childhood antics just to get rid of Lyra’s gloomy face. “You might end up choking yourself to death.”

“ Pfffftttt!”

“Will you shut up?!”

“Sorry!” Lyra bites her thumb to hold her cackle but fails. “I just… bwahahaha! It seems that ‘never hold a grudge to the people who wronged you’ is true!”

Vergil pulls her thumb away from her teeth, caressing her reddened thumb. “A little deeper, you would bleed your thumb.”

The careful touch from Vergil distracts Lyra for a while. It’s the first time he holds her without gloves on, and it surprises her how soft his palm is despite the fact that he is a warrior who wields various weapons. Her thumb slips lightly from his palm. “Even if I bleed, I got your Lucy Pevensie’s cordial to heal me.”

Vergil sighs heavily as he removes some strands of Lyra’s hair from her forehead. “I gave it to you for an emergency case only. The cordial was made mostly from demon’s blood, mixed with rare herbs and some complicated spells to make it suitable for human’s bodies. Even the bottle was made from demon’s materials to prevent physical damage. Trish produced only a few bottles of cordial, so use it wisely.”

“I will,” Lyra picks out the cordial bottle from her bag and shows it to Vergil. “See? I haven’t used it since Capulet.”

“Put it back into your bag before it slipped from your hand and fell into the lake.”

“Alright alright! Why do you sound a lot like my mother?” Lyra puts the bottle back into her bag.

“You are clumsy and easily distracted. I have to keep my eyes on you every time. It’s rather distressing.”

“I can take care of myself!” Lyra lays a punch on Vergil’s chest. “Remember, I weakened Phantom last week, so you devil twins could kill that spider easily!”

The cambion smirks disdainfully to her weak strike. He puts something off from the back of his coat and hands it to Lyra. It’s an old book with a black leatherbound with the title engraved in a beautiful golden emboss. “Your payment for escorting me today.”

Lyra observes the front cover with beaming eyes. “The Poems of Edgar Allan Poe...”

“It’s one of the mementos I brought from the Manor. I reckon you would love Poe, given to your fondness of horror and mystery.”

“Then I have to refuse! It’s yours!”

“I believe I made myself clear when I said the book is for you.”

Lyra was about to refuse again, but quickly zip her mouth when Vergil glared at her with his terrifying and undeniable gaze. He won’t take any ‘no’ from her. She flips the pages, and something almost falls from the book before Lyra catches it quickly; an antique necklace with an obsidian pendant. She takes a closer look at the pendant and recognizes the familiar white, shiny dots pattern on it— the Lyra constellation.  

“… did you pick this one too from the manor?” Lyra asks carefully.

“… it was from the antique shop.”

“I didn’t see you strolling around the jewelry section.”

“It was displayed on the counter. Nothing special. Just normal jewelry. The pattern just reminded me of you—”

Vergil can’t finish his sentence because Lyra wraps her arms between his waist, locking him in a tight embrace. He can feel the strange, but comfortable warmth fills his body as he returns to hug her without hesitation. Her body is so small and shorter compared to his height that he needs to bow slightly in order to balance the embrace. He loves her scent— a strange mixture of peach, black tea and old roses— and quietly inhales the intoxicating fragrance from her hair. He feels like he could do this all day.

“Thank you,” Lyra’s murmur vibrates his chest. “I’ll cherish this forever.”

“It's just a book and a necklace.”

“These are the best presents since the lyre from my mum!” she chuckles. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually hug people around.”

“Neither do I.”

“So let us hug a bit longer, shall we?”

“It looks like I have no choices but to comply.”

For a moment, they banish their distrusts about each other, breaking the adamant barrier and wishing the time to stop ticking.  

---

Yesterday, Lyra dreamt of a boy who wanders around a big house.

She thought it was just a meaningless dream, at least until she realized that she was the boy himself. She looked at her—  his — reflection in the mirror; the little boy was handsome with swept back silver hair and a black pajama. His serious and grumpy expression reminded of someone she couldn’t remember yet. She— the boy —wandered off around a big and dark house. It wasn’t her own intention; like her movement was controlled by someone else. She opened a chamber and let herself in. There was a woman who lay unconscious on the bed. Lyra could see traces of tears on the woman’s sullen face. Her body forced her to lift the quilt to cover the woman’s body and tip-toed herself out from the room.

When she was about to go back to her room, she heard a wheezing cry and followed the voice to the main hall. It didn’t take her too long to find out the source of the voice as her hand reached to open a white drawer, where another little boy with the same silver hair cried inside it.

“Vergil…” that little boy stared at her with a turbulent sob coming out from his mouth. “Father… you… you d-d-don’t believe that he died… r-right?”

I am…Vergil?

Does that mean that this crying boy… Dante?

The next thing Lyra remembered was she woke up with tears stream down her face like a waterfall, soaking her pillow. She was sure the sadness she felt in the entire dream wasn’t hers, but Vergil and Dante’s. She was going to tell Vergil about her strange dream when she saw the exact same white drawer in her dream at Sparda Manor, but she thought she was biased. Vergil had told her about how devastated his family was when they heard that Sparda was deceased, and her dream must be just her brain playing a trick to her.

But then she thought, Vergil never told me that he found Dante hiding and crying in that draw…

Tonight, Lyra falls into another strange dream. Even weirder and scarier. A titanic, god-like demon tortured her in the most unimaginably painful way. Her entire body was chained and spiked. The demon was merciless. His face was full of disgust and hatred as he spat her insults and penetrated her head with dreadful illusions she couldn’t even envision. He kept calling her “disgraceful offspring of the traitor Sparda”. It was only then she realized that she wasn’t herself, but Vergil.

Lyra fights herself to wake up, and is barely successful. The dream is too visceral that she almost still can feel the pain all over the body as she opens her eyes. Her back is wet from her own sweat.

Why do I keep dreaming of him? Moreover, I never experienced this kind of pain…

Does it have something to do with our accidental mind link on that day? Strange things have happened since then...

Her wave of thoughts are interrupted by the sudden thirst in her throat. She snaps her fingers and the light from the lamp brightens the bedroom. The door cracks slowly to open its way for Lyra. The librarian walks with leaden steps as she rubs her sleepy eyes. She almost stumbled upon a chair when she entered the kitchen.

“A cuppa sounds delightful to cure nightmares,” Lyra mumbles at herself, swinging her hand to summon a cup from the drawer. The cup flies and lands right in front of her, but she makes no further movement but staring blankly at the cup. Her body is still shivering by the imaginary pain from her nightmare.

“From all the people in the world, why does it have to be Vergil? This mind link is vexing me...”

The harsh cry of a raven causes Lyra to glance over the kitchen’s window. She curves a light smile while opening the window and lets a little raven enter her house. The raven lands on her shoulder for a while before flying around the house and lands on the kitchen counter.

“Where have you been, Corvus? Haven’t seen you for days!” Lyra greets the raven.

The little bird tilts its head and squawks. Lyra giggles as she pats the raven’s head. “Hey look. My friend gave his poem book to me and one of the titles is The Raven. I like it, by the way. And I’ve been thinking about him lately, even dreaming about him. To be honest, it’s disturbing. Do you think I should invite him here and tell him the truth?”

The raven gives her a nod.

“You are right. A cuppa is best served with a friend, don’t you think?”

Corvus flaps its wings eagerly. The black bird flies around Lyra’s head before making its way outside the house.

“Leaving already? You haven’t eaten yet!” Lyra shouts at the raven. “Alright then, send my regard to your girlfriend!”

Corvus squawks something like a curse, causing Lyra to barks in laughter. She heads back to the counter as she turns on the radio to entertain her confusing state of mind, picking the channel telepathically until she finds her favourite channel. She listens to the song while summoning her phone from the bedroom, tapping the screen until Vergil’s contact name pops on the screen.

Down in the willow garden

Where me and my love did meet

As we sat a-courtin'

My love fell off to sleep

I had a bottle of burgundy wine

My love, she did not know

So I poisoned that dear little girl

On the banks below

I drew a saber through her

It was a bloody knife

I threw her in the river

Which was a dreadful sign

“By Jove, that song is sinister,” Lyra chuckles darkly. Her solemn face is turning pale. “As for the poisoned little girl… well…”

She clicks Vergil’s name, waiting for the devil to answer with fingers tangled between the black pendant on her neck, hoping half-heartedly that he wouldn’t pick her call.

~~~

A/N : the song mentioned at the end of the chapter is “Down In The Willow Garden” by The Everly Brothers.

Tagging : @drusoona @harlot-of-oblivion @queenmuzz @shiranyaaww @andieperrie18 @rubixa-seraph @blooddrop-palace (I honestly forgot who to tag, so if you want to be tagged just send you reply or DM me! XD)

Masterlist | AO3

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 4 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Next part of Marco’s Bauble! Was posted in advance on Patreon ^ ^

In which the Whitebeards gossip

Contains mention of Marco x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

~~

Namur values his crew's privacy. And given that he doubts he was even supposed to see Marco's secret, he absolutely can't disclose it to anyone.

Which is why he's snuck into Izo's room at ass o'clock in the morning, when everyone but the morning shift is asleep, but Izo's awake because he takes a few hours doing his hair and makeup.

"This had better be good, I don't usually enjoy an audience before I'm presentable," Izo says.

Namur doesn't really get what's unpresentable about Izo now. Sure he looks different, with his ridiculously long hair still loose and spilling to his waist, pulled back from his face with a seemingly simple band that Namur saw Izo drop a small fortune for. Izo's plucking up various bottles of liquid lined up on his vanity, methodically shaking a few measured drops into his palm before patting them into his face. Namur doesn't see any difference before and after the drops are applied.

"It's...it's not my secret to tell, but no one else seems to know, and I need to talk to someone, it's too big for just me," Namur says, reluctantly. "But you can't tell anyone, Izo, I mean it."

Izo just hums in response, and Namur sweats. He seems to be doing a lot of that these days. Maybe he needs to take a few days to just swim, being above sea level for too long can be stressful for fishmen.

Because this is already seeming like an increasingly bad idea. Izo isn't known for being particularly good at keeping secrets; if anything, he's a known gossip. That being said, he's also one of the best listeners aboard the Moby (it's how he gets his info), and more importantly, is the third best person to go to for good, thoughtful advice.

The best person to go to for advice is, of course, Pops, but Namur wilts at the mere thought because it really, really isn't his place to talk to Pops about this without Marco's consent. And unfortunately, the close second for Best Person to Go to For Advice is none other than Marco himself, everyone's Big Brother and caring Mother Hen Supreme.

And, well. It's not like Namur can go to Marco to talk about Marco.

"Well, I'm waiting," Izo says, and apparently he'd gone through his entire lineup of six little bottles of mysterious liquids, and is now blotting some paste onto his skin with a weird brush-like contraption. Namur squints, but can barely see any difference between the areas with the paste and without.

"Please don't tell anyone, unless they already know," Namur stresses again, praying.

"Yes, yes." Izo continues blotting.

"Marco proposed to someone."

Izo continues blotting.

Namur sweats.

Izo's hand gradually slows, and Namur realizes he's finished covering his entire face. Namur sees zero difference.

"Just so we're clear," Izo says, as he finally turns to face Namur. "When you say 'Marco,' we're talking about the fire chicken one, and when you say 'propose,' we're talking about the marriage, weddings, and babies type?"

"Babies?!"

No, no, that actually hadn't crossed Namur's mind, but it's there now, and he knows logically that devil fruits don't work like that, but his mind is suddenly filled with the image of an entire school? flock? of tiny colorful winged merbabies, and he's oh, oh NO they're so cu--

"Namur! Focus, please!"

Namur blinks. He doesn't know when it happened, but one of Izo's eyebrows is more defined than the other now.

"Yeah, that Marco," he confirms. "And I, I don't know about...the last thing, but yeah, if successful, usually the kind that results in marriage type."

Izo's oddly calm, and is facing his mirror again. He frowns momentarily, but then smooths his expression and begins applying his other eyebrow. Namur realizes that Izo's able to keep his face so smooth because he wants to draw on his face evenly, and that's actually quite impressive. Though, he has no idea why Izo needs more eyebrows, when he already has perfectly normal ones growing on his face.

"Who's the boy who stole the stupid pineapple's heart, it must be someone we know," Izo says, voice light.

Namur wasn't exactly planning on disclosing this much, he'd just wanted someone else to help him think of how best to support their brother's potentially upcoming union, but Izo's definitely not taking no for an answer, and that's a fight he knows he can't win.

"It's Ace's little brother, the one Thatch went to go fetch," he says reluctantly. "And even though she's his 'little brother,' she's apparently a girl, and a mermaid."

There's a clatter, and Izo curses. Namur tries to peer at Izo's face in the mirror, and notices a weird black blob by his eye that Izo's now trying to delicately smudge off. It wouldn't have been there in the first place if Izo hadn't been trying to poke himself in the eye with the weird brush thing. Namur really doesn't get this makeup business.

"You're telling me," Izo growls, and Namur flinches at the irritation, though he gets the feeling it's directed mostly at the eye blob. "That Marco's straight? I could have sworn he was gay!"

Namur blinks at Izo.

Izo blinks at Namur through the mirror. The eye blob makes his face look slightly crooked.

"Oh, right," Izo mutters, picking up his brush with face distorting ink again. "I thought Marco only liked guys like that, so it surprised me that he likes a girl. Maybe he's bi. Don't worry about it, it's a dumb human thing."

"Oh," Namur says, and yeah, he's heard vaguely about humans being weirdly obsessed with only liking a specific gender or two. It's a very foreign concept that Namur doesn't really get because it doesn't exist on Fishman Island, and romance stuff rarely comes up on the Moby, shockingly enough, or at least in front of Namur. But he's glad Izo doesn't seem too upset, because that would upset Namur. Namur's never met Ace's little brother, but he imagines she'd look so very charming next to Marco, given how in love Marco looked when he was sending off his proposal. He wants to root for them.

"Although, hm, does Ace know? I doubt he'd be very happy about Marco sweeping his dearest little brother off her feet, er, fins," Izo says, seemingly more relaxed now that his face distorting paint is cooperating. His face is now even, although his eyes actually do look different now, more like the Izo Namur usually sees. It's fascinating.

"I don't know," Namur confesses, and he's suddenly feeling very glum at the thought of their little fire cracker baby brother not being happy. Even though Ace didn't formally join, he's still their littlest brother, and Namur's very fond of him, and has honestly lost track of the number of times he's dived into the sea to fetch the reckless kid. He was honestly devastated when Ace said he was leaving. It's alright now, now that Namur knows it was just to bring home Marco's future bride, but he hopes Ace will be supportive too.

"And how did you know he was proposing?"

At this point, what does it matter what else Namur shares? "Well..."

By the time Namur's done answering all of Izo's questions on Fishman Island courtship and Marco's respectful application of it, Izo's done with his face.

"Well, that was certainly a fascinating talk," Izo says with lips the color of a raw fish's innards. "Now I'll have to kick you out before I do my hair. At least I finished my face."

Namur knows he's been excused. "Thank you for your time. Also, it looks very nice, your face," he says politely as he gets up. It seems awkward not to comment on it, after having watched Izo work so hard on it for the past half hour. "Although it looked nice before too. I like the eye paint."

Izo pauses contemplatively, then nods. "That's an acceptable compliment. Thank you. Now, shoo."

~~

"So, who's the wedding for?"

Izo jolts as Haruta settles his tray on the other side of the table.

"What wedding?"

"Don't play dumb. You're planning a wedding. I noticed some of our books were moved in the library, and you were the only one who was in there before me. You were looking up Grand Line marriage traditions, and going through shitty wedding magazines that no one's touched in a decade," Haruta rattles off as he stirs his soup, and Izo inwardly curses.

He thought he'd placed them all back where he'd found them, but alas, apparently nothing gets by Haruta's observation skills, and his talent for butting into business that has nothing to do with him.

"And given the selections, I'd say it's not for you." Haruta continues, as though he knows Izo's tastes by heart and sadly, he probably does, and not just Izo's but the whole crew's. "So someone's getting married, or they're thinking about it, and you're planning. I want to know who."

"You're a nosey little shit," Izo says, because he knows there's really no point in denying it to Haruta without tangible evidence, which he lacks. He's also too tired to deal with this shit, because he did his hair in a hurry in order to make it to the library before everyone woke up, which means it's slightly less perfect than usual. And being anything less than perfect is a truly exhausting business.

"Mm-hmm," Haruta says, and momentarily seems distracted by his plate. There's a tiny, almost imperceptible frown on his lips, and Izo only recognizes it because he'd had the same thought.

The food's by no means bad, and they have many fine cooks on the Moby. It's just, it's a little different, without Thatch's personal touch. Izo hates that their brother's temporary absence is so tangible. Damn him for going on his little vacation.

They continue their meal in silence, and Izo hopes that Haruta's forgotten, his mind having moved on to terrorizing other innocent brothers. Izo thinks he might be able to get away, when Haruta gets up right alongside Izo to return his tray.

"So who is it?" he repeats, as though they hadn't just sat in thirty minutes of silence, and Izo wants to tear out Haruta's hair in frustration, because Izo would never tear out his own hair for any reason.

"It's none of your business, don't you have work to do?"

"My work is knowing stuff. Tell me."

"This isn't something you need to know. That's what I'm telling you."

"Nice try. Lemme guess. Is it Marco?"

Haruta laughs at his own joke, and promptly walks into Izo's back. Izo tries to get over his momentary freeze, but the damage is done.

"Holy shit, it's MARCO?!"

"What happened to Marco?" Vista has the absolute worst timing in entering the cafeteria, because he's standing directly in front of them. He already has his sword sheaths removed from his belt, no doubt so he can polish them in a corner after he's done eating, as is his usual ritual.

Haruta's eyes are blown wide, and Izo wants to stop him but no one can out-talk Haruta when he wants to talk, so it's like watching a cannonball hurtling towards an inevitable collision.

"Marco's getting married."

Vista never drops his swords.

Vista's swords clatter to the ground.

And now everyone inside the cafeteria, and those in the line forming outside behind Vista, all stop to stare.

~~

~~

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

And as always, comments/reblogs/tags always immensely appreciated!!! People sharing their thoughts with me motivates me to write so much more, and update more frequently, so thank you so much for everyone who’s so kindly done so in the past!! ;A;

(The next part’s already up on Patreon if anyone wants to read in advance <3)

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 5

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[cinnella]

Name: Libelle Abrams (chosen name); Varda Lesedi (birth name)

Age: 22 years old

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Demi-homosexual

Zodiac sign: Libra

Birthday: October 7th

Patron Arcana: Justice (Major); Queen of Swords (Minor)

Occupation: Magician, healer, painter and gardener

Height: 5'9" (1.76 m)

Weight: 194 lbs (88 kg)

Relatives:

Briella Lesedi - mother (deceased)

Abanus Lesedi - father (deceased)

Gushvin Basu - distant family friend

Origin: Born in the Catclaw Desert, grew up in Vesuvia

Race: African-American

Powers: White (purification) and healing magic, as well as telekinesis and precognitive dreaming

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, she's a strong 8.5

Backstory:

During the beautiful sunset of the Catclaw Desert, little Varda was born not far off from their home, where her parents had built their sculpture selling stand.

About 7 months later, while they were enjoying their time at home, their friend, Gushvin, hurried to tell them that an unexpected aggressive sand storm started heading their way.

They made sure to give Varda to him as he was faster and went ahead of them. They tragically got swept away by the storm and inhaled too much sand. They were found without breath or pulse hours later.

As selfish as it was of him, Gushvin didn't want to take care of a child, so he made sure to find someone willing enough to do that, soon running into a person who said they specifically searched for orphaned children that needed care.

After a couple of days of traveling, they arrived in sunny Vesuvia, where Varda was brought to the orphanage in the South End. There she was cared for and raised like promised.

She grew up to be one of the sweetest but most naive kids there. One day during lunch, she noticed a kid was sitting alone at his table, sulking and not eating. She approached him and offered to eat with him.

He had silverish eyes and ash-blond hair and the kindest smile she'd ever seen. She'd heard the adults call him Lucas and she knew he was kind of a troublemaker, but he seemed so lonely. They became best friends almost instantly, and always spent time together.

Some years later, when both of them were around 5 years old, they befriended three other kids, all significantly older than them. She learned that their names were Eris, Syro and Morana, and immediately became worried.

They were the biggest scoundrels in the entire orphanage, and quite honestly, all of South End. But Lucas insisted that they join their group. And she trusted him.

She didn't think that these four kids would become so important to her, that they'd become her family. But they did, and she couldn't be more thankful.

When it became clear enough to the adults that they couldn't raise nameless kids, the more capable ones took to teaching them the importance of knowing how to read and write and then they could choose a name for themselves, on their 7th birthday.

Soon enough, her sweet 7th rolled around and after months of searching, she found a name that would complete her.

And so, Varda Lesedi became Libelle Abrams.

Lucas, not much later, also changed his name, to Calyx. Libelle thought it was such a beautiful name for him.

Many years passed by with the four causing as much trouble as possible, to her unfortunate luck. But once she approached her preteens, devastating news came with them. When they'd reach the age of 17, they would need to leave, one by one, and search for a different home.

They discussed about it, made plans and set goals to find their homelands, their roots and possibly their families.

Obviously, Eris was first in line to leave as the eldest between them. Then Morana with Syro. It was only her and Calyx left. She made the promise to not abandon him there and take him with her when the time would come.

And she did. After celebrating her 17th birthday and talking with the one that had found her so many years ago, they set out to travel towards the Catclaw Desert. The journey was a couple of days long and it took them almost as much to find the one who knew about her parents.

Gushvin was sat on the bench in front of his home when they approached, and when Libelle called out to him, he recognized her immediately. There was some confusion with her name at first, but they quickly caught onto everything.

He told her everything that had happened the day she became an orphan and although he was hesitant, he confessed how selfish he'd been back then, something he regretted deeply and hadn't let him sleep properly since then.

All of the discoveries shocked her beyond belief, so much so that she wanted to go back to Vesuvia right away. After a while of mulling over everything she found out, she decided to focus on helping her best friend.

Luck had seemed to smile upon them, because Eris insisted on tagging along with them. After all, they had to travel across the sea all the way to the Macawi Port.

After even more shocking reveals about Calyx' parents, none of them wanted to know anything more, so at dawn they started back home.

Now, Libelle could focus on the things that she wanted to do most. She learned how to become a professional healer and magician, so she would help people in need. Around that time, her secret powers slowly surfaced as well.

She realized she could move objects with the will of her mind and at night, she would have visions and dreams of the future. After consulting with an expert in healing magic, she discovered that most people have these gifts and adviced her to learn to control them.

Everything was fine in her life until the Red Plague rained upon them and they each made the decision to leave Vesuvia. Well, all except for Eris. She wanted to help the doctors with the dead, confided to Libelle that she'd taught herself necromancy and wanted to reverse their deaths.

Eris had been too stubborn to listen to reason, so they had no choice but to leave her behind. Syro and Morana left for the Southern Spines, while Eris specifically told Libelle and Calyx to go to Venterre and find her brother, Sethos. He would shelter them until the nightmare would be over.

So they did, they took the first boat straight to the west coast of Venterre, where they ran into the young man in question.

When they finished explaining everything to him, he insisted they go back and get her too, but there would have been no use in doing so. His sister would have been way too stubborn to listen to anyone.

Days later, a letter arrived in their mailbox and all three were devastated to find out Eris died from the plague. Libelle and Calyx were sobbing messes and Sethos almost thrashed the room before collapsing too.

They informed the other two through a letter as well, but they figured there would be massive delays because of the distance, so they didn't expect an answer right away.

Suddenly, about 6 days later, Libelle had a dream, of Eris being alive. It had felt so real she woke up in a cold sweat and with tears in her eyes, she went to wake up the other two, shaking them hard.

She couldn't form clear words but Calyx caught onto it right away, and while with shaky hands, Libelle explained that she could sense Eris' aura and presence in the real world.

Although Sethos was very skeptical about it, he would have rather held onto the tiniest string of hope that she was indeed alive than live with the thought of losing his sister a second time.

So they wrote another letter to Syro and Morana and immediately packed their things and headed back to Vesuvia in plain midnight.

True to everything Libelle said and sensed, Eris was alive. How, they didn't know, until they spoke to Asra, one of her older friends and apparently, the one who brought her back. She was shocked to find it involved a deal with the Devil. She'd heard of the sacrifices needed to make such deals.

After about 3 years of total absence, Syro and Morana also arrived in Vesuvia and the shock cycle began again.

Not much later, when Eris got assigned to solve the mystery of Count Lucio's murder and catch his fugitive murderer, everyone offered to do something to help her out.

Though she was shy about it, she could sense that the Countess, Nadia, needed help as well. So Libelle suggested assisting her in whatever Nadia would need.

She didn't expect to catch feelings, but she didn't complain either.

Personality: shy, sensitive, kind-hearted, gentle, imaginitive, creative, generous, loyal, honest, trustworthy, observant, reliable, cheerful, too forgiving and sometimes naive

Interesting facts:

Although it isn't very noticeable, she does have a white lotus tattoo on her left middle finger.

Her wrists are littered with past self-harm scars, which the others love to kiss just to make her feel better about them.

She is very insecure about her body, but she has the others to lift her moods up when she's down.

Has an entire collection of earrings, but her favorites are the peacock feathers.

Even though she wakes up early in the morning, she usually takes a nap in the afternoon.

Her thighs and hips are full of stretch marks.

Has the biggest sweet tooth in the world.

Can play the clarinet, but you would have to really indulge her to get her to sing on it for you.

Appearance: Dark espresso skin tone, neck-length curly chestnut brown hair, dyed periwinkle blue halfway down, jade green eyes, chubby slight hourglass body shape, D cup breasts

Familiar: Lumi, a cute and sweet stoat but a sneaky little thief all the same

Voice claim: Dana Gourrier

Full sprite:

WOOOHOOOO I FINISHED ALL MY MCS' BIOS AND I'M SO HAPPY!!

My girl turned out so damn beautiful too and I'm just hhnnnnn- 😖💜

PLEASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE AS WELL!!! ✨

[batfam-nalu-onepiece]

When Brooke awakens his Devil Fruit

Brooke never really thought he could awaken his devil fruit. It’s not like he can turn everything around him to string like Doflamingo. But along his journey and when Luffy becomes King of the Pirates, what he discovers is his awakening allows him to call back the souls of the dead. And he takes full advantage of this.

Brooke specifically waits for the right time to use it for his crew

Luffy:

He waits for Luffy, Sabo, and Garp to be back at their hole town with Makino, Dadan and the other Mountain bandits to have them speak to Ace one last time and tell him he was able to achieve his dream of becoming King of the Pirates. Ace tells Garp that he loves him and that he is sorry for all the pain he has caused him. He is overjoyed to see Sabo alive and thanks him for looking out for Luffy when he couldn’t and Sabo thanks him for the same. Dadan and Makino are overjoyed seeing those three reunited again. Maybe call White beards Soul and Gold Rogers for Ace as well. Roger meeting Luffy and being proud to have someone like Luffy be the next king of the pirates. Luffy made sure to have Shanks and Rayleigh there too so theycan see his old Captain. Roger tells Shanks that he did a job and gave his hat to a worthy man. Rayleigh gets to see his bestfriend one more time and Roger thanks him for helping train Luffy. Roger thanks Garp for taking care of Ace for him and Garp just punches him because he is about to cry (Maybe have Kobe there as a Bonus because Luffy values his friendship and wants to introduce him to his brothers)

Zoro:

They travel to Zoro’s hike town with his sensei and call back Kuina’s soul so he can tell her he achieved his dream and became the worlds greatest swordsman. He tells her that he made sure to take extra care of her sword and that he never forgot their promise to each other and trained hard every day. He even pokes fun at her talking about how Tashigi looks and acts just like her and how she has been chasing him all over the world so it was like Kuina was also chasing after him, trying to achieve her dream which made Zoro train even harder.

Nami:

They return to Cocoyasi Village to meet up with Nojiko and Genzo and call back Bellmere soo they can talk to her again and Nami tells her she achieved her dream of drawing a map of the entire world. She tells her mom about all her travels and how she found a family that can always make her smile. She even shows her the Tangerine trees in the Sunny saying she grows them exactly the same way to make sure her nakama get to have a taste of Bellmere’s tangerines.

Usopp:

They call Usopp’s mom’s soul at his home town so he can tell her he became a brave warrior of the see like his father. He tells her all the adventures he has been on. He starts off by saying “Hi mom. You came back to us” like he used to say about his father. His Dad standing beside him saying that Usopp keep his promise and became a brave pirate, even more great than himself. He introduces his mom and dad to Kaya. His mom absolutely loves her and is happy he found someone. They bond when his mom tells Kaya that it will be hard to love Usopp since he is a pirate and neve home and Kaya responds saying she knows it may be hard, but if Usopp is free, and happy that is all she could ask for. Besides, that the kind of man she fell in love with in the first place.

Sanji:

They meet up with Zeff at the Baratie and call back Sanji’s mom’s soul to tell her that he became and amazing chef and found the all blue. Sanji’s mom thanks Zeff for looking after her son and for teaching him how to be a great chef. Everyone at the Baratie wonder how someone as annoying and argumentative as Sanji could ever come from such a sweet woman. Then Sanji kicks them and they all laugh. (Luffy asked Nami to contact Reiju and tell them to come because he knew she would want to see her kids again and they would love it so Sanji is with his siblings, Judge, and Zeph. Sanji wasn’t happy about it but he realized they were her family too and he couldn’t just keep them from speaking to their mom one more time. Even if most of them are jerks) Sanji shows his mom his cooking by cooking a special meal for her. A variation of the first meal he ever made for her. She says it’s the most wonderful food she has ever tasted and can tell that she actually meant it (i know I know. How can she eat if she’s a soul? Just go with it) Reiju tells her mom she loves her and how sorry she is for not taking better care of Sanji. Her mom tells her what a wonderful job she did and that she loves her. The other brothers finally show emotion that they never knew they could. Seeing their mom again after she died woke something up in them and they apologize for being dicks their entire life and that they love her. She responds by saying that they are her sons and she loves them no matter what. She tells her children what fine and strong people they became. Judge even apologizes to her for everything he’s done (What Sanji did during the Whole Cake Arc really made them reevaluate their life)

Chopper:

They return to The Sakura Kingdome to see Doctor Kureha and Dalton, where they call back Dr. Hiriluk’s should back to tell him that his son went out to see and became an doctor and travelled the seas as a pirate just like Hiriluk wanted. They also recreate his powder again and show him the cherry blossoms one last time before his soul returns to beyond the grave. Chopper even teacher Hiriluk the new things he learned while at sea and all the different diseases and things he has cured. Hiriluk is happy his son went out to sea and thankful when Chopper tells him what Luffy did for him and his flag even before he really knew chopper.

Robin:

Even though they cannot return to Robin’s home, they sail the Sunny to where the island used to be located and call back Robin’s mom and the others archaeologists so Robin can see her mother again and tell them about the lost history. She tells her mom about the Poneglyphs and the other ancient cities she found like Skypiea. As a bonus Brooke also calls back Jaguar D. Saul and Robin tells him that she found her nakama who will protect and cherish her and will never leave her. Saul thanks the Strawhats and after hearing what they did for her at Enies Lobby, he knew she found an amazing crew. He even laughed and smiles at the story saying that Robin has joined one crazy crew. Saul took one last long look at the people who would challenge the world if it meant protecting Robin and knew that she would never be lonely and sad again. Her mother gave her a hug and said she’s happy that she survived the buster call and how proud she is for becoming an archaeologist and finding out the lost history.

Franky:

They return to Water 7 and meet with Granny Kokoro and call back Tom’s soul. Cranky gets to tell him that he created a ship that sailed across the entire world just like he did and is now the shipwright to the new King of the Pirates. Iceberg tells him that he is working on or completed making Water 7 float. Tom is proud of the man iceberg became, and how successful and beloved he is as the mayor of Water 7. Tom takes a look at the Sunny and says it’s even greater than anything he could have built including the Oro Jackson, Roger’s ship. He admires the work and detail Frank put into the ship and could tell that the crew loved their ship very much. Tom meets Nico Robin and apologizing for doubting her and believing she would use her knowledge for evil. Robin smiles and says it’s ok and they talk all night. Tom meets the Franky Family, the people willing to storm Enies Lobby to save Franky. He thanks them and The Strawhats for saving his son hd apologizes to Franky and Iceberg for even putting them through that by passing down the Pluton blueprints. They laugh it off and Franky says he is actually thankful to have had them because without it, he would have never joined the Strawhats and build the ship of his dream.

Jinbe:

They return to Fishman island where they reunite with Shirahoshi, and her family. With Jinbe, the recall Fisher Tiger and Queen Otohime’s soul. They get to tell the two that the relationship between fishmen and humans have gotten better. Jinbe can tell Fisher Tiger all he had accomplished including jointing the Strawhats. Shirahoshi and her family can tell Otohime that they returned to they participate in discussions with the world government and other countries and have a good relationship with humans. Shirahoshi tells her mom about how Luffy taught her to be brave. They both leave knowing their species is in good hands and thank the Strawhats for being the gateway to the fishmen co-existing with humans

Brooke:

When they return and see Laboon again, Brooke calls back the spirits of his old crew so they can all keep their promis to Laboon. They play their music for Laboon again so he can hear the real thing instead of the recording (don’t ask me how they can play jules if if their dead just go along with it. It’s sweeter that way). Brooke can introduce his old crew to his new one, telling his old captain not to worry because even with them gone, he has found a new place he can call home.

Vivi: (and the rest of the crew)

If Vivi’s father dies (because it seems like that may happen) They return to Alabasta and Vivi and Karoo get to see the King Nefertari again and maybe her mom too considering I don’t actually know what happened to her. Vivi is happy to meet to new crew members and love how none of them have changed personality wise. Robin apologizes nonstop and Vivi forgives her in a second. She says that anyone Luffy likes is a good person so Robin doesn’t need to apologize anymore. She even thanks her for not telling Crocodile where Pluton is and for all the times she has saved Luffy. While there at Alabasta, he aslo calls back the spirit of the Going Merry. The very same Klabautermann that saved them time after time. They thought about doing this at Usopp’s village but he said that Vivi was once a part of their crew too and deserves the chance to see the Merry again. The spirit of the merry is happy they found a new ship to call home and is thankful to Franky building the ship. It even says that it knew of the ship because part of her spirit is still with them, on the mini merry and thanks Franky for building it out of her wood. This causes every to cry saying how happy they are that the Merry is still with them (yes even Zoro. He tried to not cry but couldn’t help it. He turned around thinking Sanji would make fun of him But Sanji knew that he could never make fun of him for this). Usopp and Luffy immediately says that the mini merry cannot be in the docking stations anymkre and bring her onto the deck. No one disagrees or argues with them.

Law:

As a thanks to Trafalgar Law for all his help and everything they’ve been through, they call back Corazone’s soul and he tells him that he loves him and is greatful for everything he did for him. He introduces him to the Heart pirates, named in honor of Corazone and shows him that he made the right decision in saving his life. Law also insisted that Sengoku be there because he loved Corazone like a son. Sengoku at this point is retired and he’s never admit this, but he is happy that Law and Luffy met because it gave him another moment with the man he viewed as a son. (Sengoku also couldn’t help but notice how much alike Luffy and Garp are. Especially when Garp was Luffy’s age and laughs knowing how much trouble Luffy will give the Navy considering the amount of trouble Garp gave the Navy and he worked for them)

Rebecca:

They return to Dressrosa and let Rebecca,Kyros, Viola and the other see Scarlett again where she sees that her daughter grew up to be an amazing woman and that Kyros has protected ever since.

Momonosuke:

They Return to Wano and Momonosuke, Hiyori, kin and the other Samurai can see Oden again and his wife. Momonosuke can tell his father that he is following in his footsteps in order to become a great Shogun to make sure Wano prospers. Hiyori tells her father that she gave his sword, Enma, to Zoro. She thought he’d be mad so she tried to explain to him that he saved her life, Saved Wano, and is a worthy swordsman but Oden stops her midway saying that he doesn’t care about the sword. He’s just happy his family is safe and that if she gave his sword away, he knows that it would have been for a good cause and to someone worthy. The other Samurai get to tell Oden that they avenged him and saved his country like they promised. They even bring back Yasui so his daughter can see him again. Momonosuke also introduce his father to O-Tama and his father likes her and thinks she’s a good math for his son. Momonosuke blushes but Luffy, Kin, Nami, Robin, Sanji, Zoro and honestly everyone agrees and already consider them as a couple. Brooke even brings back Ryuma so they can clear Zoro’s name of stealing Shisui. Zoro spars with Ryuma and Oden. Their fight changes the geography of Wano a bit.

Carrot:

They go to Zou and call back Pedro’s soul so Carrot and everyone can see him. Carrot thanks him and shows him how strong she became. Luffy thanks him for sacrificing himself for him and Pedro is happy knowing the Dawn of the New World that he believed was coming has finally arrived. He never regretted his sacrifice for a second.

I’m assuming there is a 24 hour limit to each soul called back or something like it. But if not consider that after they each have their own individual heartfelt moment with their loved ones that they lost, the Strawhats bring EVERYONE, and yes I mean everyone that was mentioned, to Laugh Tale for a huge party. All the souls of the departed that where mentioned meet each other and celebrate the Luffy becoming King of the Pirates. Roger, Rayleigh and Whitebeard get to see Oden again. Nami ends up punching Gold Roger for doing something stupid on a reflex thinking it was Luffy. It actually really hurts Roger and as Nami apologizes, Bellmere looks proudly at her. Luffy laughs and Nami beats him up twice as hard. Roger, Whitebeard, Shanks, Oden and Fisher Tiger are now scared of her. They know Luffy has the best Navigator in the world, but are wondering if it’s worth it with him much she has punched Luffy in the short time they’ve know her. All while Brooke and the Rumbar Pirates play Bink’s Sake the entire time.

(If someone wants to make art of this, please do and tag me in it so I can see it and cry of happiness)

[goldandbluesmiles]

Protective

Summary: Bruce is protective Alpha, especially when it comes to his children.

Notes: Some discriminatory language.

Ao3

XXX

The gala was in full swing when Jason spotted the baby bat. He nudged Tim who was beside him, shoving a pastry in his mouth.

"Hey, Timmy," he said to the younger boy, "What do you think's happenin' over there?"

Tim followed his gaze, took in Damian's rigid posture, the cruel smirks on the two boys that looked his age, and the weirdly smug glee on a boy who looked about ten.

"Doesn't look too good," said Tim

"Nope," said Jason, "Should we...?"

"Any other time, I would have just let him deal with it but this is the Martha Wayne Foundation Gala,"

It was the one gala that they attended no matter what. All anger, fights and problems were put aside to come to help support their dad on his mother's birthday. There was also an unofficial rule among the bat kids that no one would cause any havoc during the gala and they would intervene if they saw something brewing.

And by the scowl on Damian's face, something was definitely brewing. The young Omega looked seconds away from punching someone.

"Yeah, let's go," said Jason

Both Alphas weaved their way through the crowd toward their younger brother. As they got closer, Jason started to hear what the other boys were saying and it made his blood boil in anger.

"Go back...'" "Your kind-" "Tainted,"

Jason was ready to march over and teach the little brats a lesson when he noticed another body moving toward the youngest Wayne.

Apparently Bruce Wayne had noticed his youngest son's plight because of course, he had. And it was good because this place did not need Jason to go around shaking little kids, no matter how much they deserved it. Bruce would handle this much better.

"Well, hello there young gentlemen," he said in a pleasant tone, the cold fury in his eyes only visible to people that really knew him.

From across the room, Jason saw Dick start to make his way to them. Cass and Steph had also detangled themselves from the dance floor. Duke was already standing at his left. Everyone else ignored their little gathering. If there was one thing the Waynes were good at, it was blending.

"Hello Mr. Wayne," said one of the older boys, looking just a little scared. Good.

"And your names," asked Bruce.

"I'm William," said the older redhead and then pointed to the younger boy, "This is my brother, Harris,"

"William and Harris," said Bruce, "The Livingston boys,"

"Yes, sir,"

"And you, son?" said Bruce, making Damian tense. He relaxed once Bruce moved his hand to his shoulder.

"Jared Lucky, Mr. Wayne,"

"Alright, Jared," said Bruce, tone still biting, "I'm guessing all your parents are here tonight?"

The boys nodded.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," said Bruce, "Jared and Harris are going to stand right here. William, you are going to go get both your parents and bring them here,"

The little brat nodded and quickly took off.

"Father?" murmured Damian, looking up at him with a questioning look. Jason took a quick look at his siblings and saw that all of them, except Dick, looking varying degrees of confused. Even Cass.

Taking in their reactions, Jason realized that none of them had ever seen Bruce in his protective Alpha mode before. Sure they had all seen Batman but not Bruce.

Jason had been the target of many cruel taunts once when he had joined Gotham's 'high' society. And he knew from stories that while Dick had charmed everybody with his personality and smile, that had still been whispers of gypsy and uncivilized. Bruce had shut all of them down with a vicious look and cruel smile. The rest of them had probably never needed it. Tim was a born elite. No one would ever say anything about Cass. Stephanie held her head high and dared anyone to come close enough to speak. Duke was relatively new.

None of them had seen Papa Bruce protecting his pups, which meant that they were in a for a treat tonight.

Damian was still waiting for an answer when two couple showed up with a flustered looking William. The red-headed woman instantly took her boys in her arms, glaring at Bruce. The Luckys just looked really confused.

"Bruce," said Mr. Lucky, "What is going on here? Did the boys get into a scuffle or something?"

"Or something," said Bruce, "Boys, why don't you repeat for your parents what you were saying to Damian here,"

"But-"

"Repeat it," this time the words came out sharper, making a few heads turn their way. Jason sent them a few glares, making them turn right back around.

"Boys," said Mrs. Lucky, "Explain yourselves,"

William and Jared quietly repeated the things that had been said, making Jason tremble with anger. Around him, the rest of his family was in similar states.

Worst of all was Damian, head bowed with shame as if he was the one who had done something wrong.

God, these boys were lucky Jason had a little more control now. Otherwise, they would be getting good talking to at the least.

"God, Bruce," said Mr. Lucky, "I am so sorry. We will definitely be talking to Jared once we get home,"

"This is our fault," said Mrs. Lucky, "He said he wanted to experience boarding at Gotham Academy and we figured it wouldn't be a problem. I have to admit, since then we haven't really monitored the content he takes in,"

"Which will be fixed," said Mr. Lucky, "You have my word, Bruce,"

"I would hope so, Sean," said Bruce

That started a whole other round of apologies and promises. Jason looked at them carefully, looking for any indication that these people were insincere or were talking out of their ass to keep Bruce happy. He found nothing. Thye seemed to mean it.

The Livingstons were another story though. The guy was impassive, wearing his businessman's face while his wife was openly glaring at them.

Once the Luckys finally stopped, Bruce turned toward the other couple.

"And what about Mr. and Mrs. Livingston," said Bruce, "Anything to say about your boys' behaviour?"

The guys cleared his throat but the lady beat him to it.

"I don't see the problem with my boys expressing themselves," she said, tone haughty

God, what a bitch.

"Excuse me," said Bruce, "Expressing themselves? There is expressing yourself and then there is discriminatory language, not to mention verbal assault,"

"Now. Now, Bruce," said the man, "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?"

The complete and utter fury on Bruce's face was a thing to behold. The Lucky family took a step back and the two brothers looked ready to piss themselves. Even Mr. Lviningston looked like he was regretting his decision to be here.

The only one still glaring was Mrs. Livingston or as Jason would call her from now, She-devil.

"Overreacting? Overreacting?" hissed Bruce, "Your sons used derogatory language to talk to mine and you think I'm overreacting,"

"Some terms fit," said the She-devil, "Especially for a...brood like yours,"

Bruce tightened his hold on Damian's shoulder and took a step forward, "Listen here, Susan,"

"Sasha," she muttered

"Susan, Sasha, fucking Sally," said Bruce, "I don't care! The only reason, the only reason I am not making a goddamn sacrificial spectacle of you in front of this whole room is that it has become obvious to me that these boys have some very poor role models, and given their age, should be given a chance to rectify their mistakes and humiliating them in front of a room full of people will not do that,"

"Because let's be honest here, with today's school curriculum and resources available it is obvious where these boys learned language like this. I would hate to think what you would say to my son -to my children- given the opportunity to be honest without consequences,"

Both boys were now looking at their parents with confused eyes.

"Now, do me a favour and leave this place,"

Sasha went to say something else but Harris tugged at her dress, "Mom let's go,"

"Don't talk out of line, Harris,"

The boy flinched. Beside him, Jason felt Tim tense. He as starting to hate this woman more by the second.

"We will take our leave," said Mr. Livingston

"Please do," said Bruce, tone rivalling the Arctic winds, "And consider yourselves disinvited from any event that has even a small part of the Waynes in it,"

That was basically 99.9% of Gotham City.

The family four left, quickly being swallowed up by the crowd.

"Well, no more sleepovers at their house," muttered Sean, and then turned toward Bruce, "You know some of us to send our boys to the dormitories despite living in the city. William and Jared roomed together and when Jared started having sleepovers with them, Carrie and I were happy. He gets lonely at home, you know. Obviously we didn't realize the differences in values, we'll definitely make sure to talk to Jared,"

"We're so sorry, Damian," said Carrie, lowering herself a little so she could look him in the eye, "You didn't deserve that,"

Damian nodded.

"I'm also going to look into the Livingstons a little more closely," said Sean, "There was something not right about the way Sasha spoke to her youngest,"

"Hmm," said Bruce, "I think we've all had enough excitement for the night,"

The Luckys obviously saw the dismissal and left without saying much more.

As soon as they were gone, Bruce led them to the back balcony, rarely used by anyone and completely deserted. Once they were there, he picked up Damian and held him close, gently cooing at him and scenting him.

It was proof of how emotionally taxing the whole thing had been that Damina didn't even fight it a little, just melted into his father's arms.

"Listen to me, Damian," said Bruce, gently stroking his hair, "Nobody gets to talk to you like that, nobody,"

Damian nodded against Bruce's shoulder.

"Nobody gets to talk to anyone of you like that," said Bruce, looking at each one of them in the eye. They all nodded too.

"Now I have to stay here for the speeches but you are all welcome to go back in," said Bruce, "Damian, do you want to go with Dick?"

"Yes, Father," mumbled Damian

Dick gently took their brother and held him close, similar to how Bruce had been holding him.

"Let's go, guys," said Dick

"I should be inside in an hour," said Bruce

They all nodded at him and quickly made their way to the exit. Jason thanked whatever deity was out there, that the Gala was always held in the manor. They all gathered just outside the door and for a second just looked at each other.

Stephanie was the first to crack, a few chuckles escaping her. Cass smiled next and Tim let out a giggle. Them suddenly they were all laughing, except for Damian who had a sleepy smile on his face.

"Holy shit," said Stephanie, "Holy shit. Forget Batman. Bruce Wayne is fucking terrifying,"

"Did you see the guy's face?" said Duke

"Susan can go die though," said Stephanie

"Sasha," said Tim, copying her haughty tone

"Susan, Sasha, fucking Sally," said Jason and they burst into laughter again.

"God, I've never seen him like that," said Tim as they started to make their way into the family room.

"He used to do it a lot when we were kids," said Dick, gesturing to Jason, "And it surprised people a lot more then. He's changed his public act a lot over the years but back then- imagine twenty-two years old Brucie Wayne, playboy extraordinaire instantly switching to Bruce Wayne, Protective Alpha dad. It was amazing to watch,"

"Yeah," said Jason, getting a little lost in his memories, "I remember this one time he told someone and, I quote, "this boy has more class in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body, Jennifer,"

"Jennifer?" asked Tim

"Her actual name was Jenna,"

Duke snorted, "Of course it was,"

"Guys shhh," said Dick out of nowhere

"What," whispered Stephanie

"I think he's asleep,"

Jason looked at Damian a little closely and sure enough, the little boy was curled up in Dick's lap, fast asleep.

"Aww," said Cass, "Poor little brother,"

"Yeah," said Steph, "All jokes aside, he really doesn't deserve that shit,"

"Good thing we got Bruce, right?" said Duke, looking at them

"Right," Jason found himself saying. His siblings gave him weird looks but he just smiled. Just because Red Hood and Batman didn't agree on some things didn't mean Jason had forgotten what it had felt like to have Bruce's protection, to be held close like he was something precious.

It was really something.

Slowly they all started to make their way out of the room and upstairs to change. Jason went with Dick to help put Damian to bed without waking him up. Once they were done, Dick gave him a quick pat on the back and headed toward his room. Jason went to the room he stayed in when he was at the manor and changed quickly. Instead of going to bed, he headed down to the kitchen and waited. Half an hour later, Bruce walked in, already having changed into sweats and a t-shirt.

"Oh, hey Jason," said Bruce, "What are you still doing up?"

Jason started to think of a lie but then decided against it.

"Waiting for you,"

Bruce smiled, "Come on,"

Together they took out some leftover cake from the fridge and headed toward the sitting room. Bruce took a seat at the love seat and Jason joined him.

"Any particular reason you were waiting for me?"

"Feeling nostalgic, I guess," said Jason, "We used to sit here whenever we came back from a shitty gala or event,"

"I remember. You would wait for me in the kitchen and then we would get whatever we could find from the fridge and eat in here,"

"Yeah," said Jason, "It always felt great, you know. Having you in my corner. I'm glad that other kids get it too now,"

"Jason," said Bruce, putting his plate down, "You still have it. I know we're not the most conventional pack but I am this pack's Alpha and you are a part of it. As such you will always have me in your corner. Even if you don't like thinking of me as your father, I am you Alpha,"

Jason opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Instead, he just lowered his gaze, a sudden pressure building behind his eyes.

Jesus, he would never get over how small Bruce could make him feel.

"Oh, Jaybird," murmured Bruce, taking away his plate and pulling him into his arms, "My little pup,"

"Not a pup," he sniffed, tucking his face close to Bruce's neck and breathing in his scent of burnt cinnamon mixed with sage.

"Still my pup," said Bruce, "And I'm sorry,"

"For what?"

"Forever letting you think you didn't have me in the same capacity as you used to. I should have made it clear as soon as we agreed to clear the air. You always had me, Jaylad,"

Jason smiled and curled closer, "Love you, Dad,"

He felt Bruce's smile at his temple.

"I love you too, Jay,"

[bb-tings]

One Night With The Devil

reader x rafe x a hint of barry 

request: your masterlist tags said to send some barry requests, so, if you feel comfortable, what if you were rafe's girlfriend and he couldn't pay him the money he owed for drugs so instead they made a deal together where barry could have his way with you for a night as a way of rafe paying off his debt? 

(fyi, just in case you didn’t see it the first time: I COMPLETELY CHANGED THE POT FROM THE TEASER {but the barry part comes in part 2})

summary:  In which Barry would do anything to get the girl back. Screwing Rafe over in the process, well that’s just the icing.

(part one is basically just barry & y/n hurting rafe’s feelings) 

warnings: LOTS of cussing, lots of yelling, lots of anger, lots of talk about sex but no sex (yet)

TAGLIST:  @ampanonyg @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @jjmbanks @maybanksbaby @1-800-jjslut @simpforstarkey @jellyfishbeansontoast @ilovejjmaybank​​ @royalpogue​ @bitchell-marner @rafecameronswh0re @baby-pogue @sunwardsss @k-k0129 @afterglowsb-tch13 @in-stability @ilovejjmaybank​ @abbiesthings​

taglist requests are open 😊

⁓

        She watched the sweat roll down his face, knowing that the sun’s rays weren’t the only reason for the salty perspiration. Rafe wrung his hands together, his shoulders rigid as he spoke with Barry. She didn’t need to hear the conversation to know that neither boy was happy about the situation, however, they showed very different emotions. Barry looked fed up with the rich boy, not wanting to hear another lame excuse as to why he, once again, didn’t have the money he owed. Even though the Cameron boy was much taller than the dealer, he couldn’t help but be afraid of the dealer. He had been threatened with his life and the very few things that he cherished, but he still somehow found the bravery every week to show up at Barry’s place with empty hands. 

        Y/n was well aware of Rafe's unhealthy habits, but after many, many attempts at trying to get him to stop or get help, it only resulted in yelling matches and tears. She was also well aware of the fact that she could do a lot better. Y/n had somehow always found herself involved with the wrong types of boys. From rich, stuck-up, coke-addicted, college dropouts to surfing, adventure chasing, daddy issues having, stoners to criminal, shotgun carrying, ex (most likely dishonorable) military, drug dealers. But that was just a few vague types. Guess Maybank and her current beau weren’t the only ones with daddy issues. At least she was happy in ⅔ of those relationships.

        Barry’s eyes moved to the young girl hiding behind the open door, biting his lip when she crossed her arms over her exposed chest in the low cut crop top, not realizing that it only made the skin more visible and teasing to his eye. 

“Damn, how the hell did you score that? Cause I’m picturing a few ways you could repay me.”

        Rafe looked up to Barry, confusion written on his face. He stood up straight and followed Barry’s eyes, watching his girlfriend stepping out from behind the door and closing it. Rafe took notice of how she seemed to be captivated by Barry's stare, neither being able to look away.

“Nah, man, she’s off-limits.” Hearing this made Barry laugh, knowing at one point in his life, he two could have muttered those same words about the same girl.

        He wished he could tell him the truth, the truth that Rafe has no idea about. The truth that lived before Barry himself even met Rafe, before he lost the girl. That girl was his, and he’ll be damned if he isn’t gonna get her again before the drugs get to him.

“Boy, when you gon’ get it. Ain’t none-a’ yo’ shit off-limits to me. As long as you owe me, yo’ shit, is my shit. But, ya’ know what, I've decided that I don't want yo' money anymore,” the boy looked over to where the young girl was still standing with a smirk on his lips. “I want something a little more personal to you."

“You’re joking, right? Like you can’t be serious-”

“Why cain’t I be?” This time Barry got right in Rafe’s face, invading his personal space, at least what was left of it.

“B-Because she’s- she’s a-”

“Because she’s what? A virgin? You one dumb mother fucker, Cameron. You know that? Look,  we both know that ain’t true. I know she’s a freak, and I know that she didn’t make you wait that long. She wanted it just as bad as you, didn’t she?” When Barry’s statements were met with silence, he continued.

“I told you. I run this shit, Cameron. Nothing happens on this island that I don’t know about. Not one girl that you get, hasn’t been through me yet, Country club. So you either tuck tail and go beg daddy for some big cash, or you tell yo’ sweetie over there to open up. Either way, you best get rid of that pride until I’m satisfied.”

        At that moment, Rafe weighed his options. He thought about how he could come clean to his dad, tell him about all the shit he had gotten himself into over the last two summers. How he started to sell things around the house to support his addiction, how he was the reason 2 out of 6 of his dad’s priceless watches somehow came up missing. He thought about how he could tell his girlfriend that she had to give it up to his drug dealer for him to drop his dues. He could only imagine how that would go over. But he was angry now. What the fuck was Barry talking about? What had Y/n not told him?

“You want me to WHAT?!”

        It had been a couple of hours since they were parked outside of the infamous trailer. Rafe had tried to wait it out as long as possible before telling her about the deal, but it was getting late and he knew that it was now or never.

“Trust me this is the last thing I want you to do. But-”

“Then why the fuck are you asking me to do it.” Y/n stood in his room with her fingertips on her temples. She couldn’t comprehend what was going on. Y/n watched Rafe smoke his joint while he sat against his headboard. Standing at the end of the bed, watching Rafe tilt his head back and drop it against the wall. She let the thoughts run through her head, all the questions she had. Running, chasing. Why did she let herself get here? Did she sleepwalk her entire relationship? What had she done to make the boy think he had some type of control or say so over her? “What the fuck is wrong with you, Rafe?”

“What’s wrong with me? How about how you? What’s going on with you and my drug dealer? Huh? You’re a liar!” Y/n couldn’t believe her ears. The things coming out of his mouth had her stumped.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about? First of all, I have been nothing but faithful to you, Cameron! And we both know you can’t say the same about yourself. Second of all, my relationship- my past relationship with Barry, is none of your damn business. We’ve had our troubles, but don’t you dare call me a liar, because I have ever only been honest with you. “

“If you’re so fucking honest then why didn’t you tell me that there was even a relationship. Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to have your drug dealer threaten your life and then in the same sentence tell you that he’s fucked your girlfriend before you even met? Because you didn’t tell me-”

“BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED! I’m so sorry that it’s hard for you to hear about all the guys on this island that fucked me before you did, but I’m not sorry for doing it. I’m sorry your pride doesn’t allow you to pull your head out of your ass and see that we’ve both been in other relationships before us. I don’t know what you want me to do, Rafe. What? You want me to list them? Is that what you want? Just in case you ever come in contact with one of them and they tell you about our past. Yeah, Barry was my boyfriend at one point. We’ve fucked multiple times. Wanna know who else? The Maybank kid you hate so damn much, fucked him too, more than once. I sucked Kelce off during my freshman year in the boy’s bathroom. Made out with Topper lord knows how many times. I’ve even hooked up with Kie. In your house, in your sister’s bed. So many people other than you have touched my body. That’s something you’re just gonna have to live with. Because I like sex, Rafe. A lot.” 

        Y/n wanted to make him angry. She wanted to see the blood rushing to his head, the veins in his arms getting tight. Wanted him to feel the anger, the same anger rushing through her. The same anger that had her ready to walk away. “Let’s not forget the time your father was willing to risk it all for me.”

“Shut up.” Rafe had traded his spot on the bed for the corner of his room. He was facing the wall with his head in his hands. Palm pressed into his ears. Y/n loved that the 6‘2, almost grown, boy looked like a kid throwing a tantrum. But she wasn’t done.

“What is that hard to hear? Does it hurt that the man you hate the most, the man who looks at you, his own son, with such hatred, almost fucked an underage girl?”

   Rafe was fuming at this point. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth barring down. He was in a hunched position as if the lower he got would allow the words to feel further away.

“I bet it sucks to know that the first time you introduced me to your family. Your friends. That we all had you fooled. Looking at each other, shaking hands as if none of us had never met before. I bet it makes you feel like less of a man, right? Silent whispers with our eyes, sharing secrets we each shared. Making a pact with our glances and our body language. You’re not the man anymore, are you rafe? I wish I had let Mr. Cameron touch me. Ward Cameron’s hands running all over my-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Rafe had snapped. Listening to her words. Hearing the details, it messed with his head. Fucked up his version of the last year. Before he could stop himself, he crossed the room and his hand was wrapped around her throat. He loved her and his body knew it. His grip wasn’t too tight. Nothing he hadn’t done to her before, but now it was different.

“Get your fucking hands off me.” Y/n lifted her hands and shoved Rafe’s shoulders away from her. When she looked back up at the boy she saw them. The tears. He had the nerve to cry, after everything he had put her through. The drugs, the abuse, the yelling, fighting, sex, lying, cheating. If she could deal with all of his bullshit without breaking down and losing her mind, then he had no fucking right to.

“I’m so done. I’m so over letting you run over me, controlling me. Thinking that you own me. Thinking you have the right to whore me out to save yourself. As if I’m some fucking toy. I’m a fucking human being, Rafe. And I’m done. We’re done. It’s over.”

        Rafe stood there, hopelessly watching, as the girl he didn’t know how to love but wanted to so bad, came to her senses and left. Feet planted, tears rolling. They had met his lips now and he could taste the salt. He watched as she packed all her shit up. She was good at remembering where all her leftover shit had been stored and it took her all of 5 minutes to pack it all up.

        When she opened his bedroom door and stepped out, she saw Sarah waiting on the steps with a couple of bathing suits in her hands. Y/n knew by the smirk on the girl’s face that she had heard everything, or at least the worst parts. Sarah stood up and leaned on the stair railing, handing the pastel-colored clothing down to the frustrated girl.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah laughed at the girl’s cringing, scrunched up face. She waved her hand and smiled down at her.

“It’s fine. Unlike some people, I know Topper had a life before me. But that Kie situation, something about my bed. Yeah, I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that one.” Y/n let out a small genuine laugh. She sympathetically smiled at the younger Cameron.

“That’s not what I was apologizing for.” Y/n looked shamefully towards the ground, feeling bad for what the girl had to hear about her family. She looked back up towards the staircase when she heard a sigh leave her lips.

“I’ve known that my dad has issues since I was pretty young. Honestly, I’m just glad that Wheezie and I weren’t the ones who got the fucked up genes. Especially me, I feel like Wheezie could hold her own, ya’ know?” At this Y/n chuckled and then reached for Sarah’s hand.

“Yeah, but if anyone’s holding their own, it’s definitely you, babe.”

“Love you, be safe,” Sarah watched as one of her closest friends started walking backwards towards her front door.

“Will do. Love you too.”

        With that Y/n let herself step outside of the house and into the outside world. Before she walked to her car, she let herself look around the yard. She wanted to take it in, all the memories. Good, bad. As much as she hated that she had let him put her through shit, she didn’t want to regret anything. She wanted to believe that it was something that she would one day look back on and smile. Smile at the thought of whatever she had learned, smile at whatever life experience she could apply the knowledge to. The young girl was done with letting Rafe damage her view on things. She wasn’t gonna let him hurt her anymore. Mentally, emotionally or physically. She was done.

        So as Y/n slid into the driver’s seat of her car and drove her way out of the Tannyhill yard, she allowed herself to hum along to the song playing on her radio. But when she reached the main road and her fingers unconsciously pushed the bar protruding from her steering wheel up, her eyes caught the green arrow on her dash pointing to the right. 

        Y/n turned her head towards the same direction and looked at the many houses that she knew people didn’t deserve. She knew that half the people in Figure 8 didn’t deserve half the things that they owned. They were stuck up, rich white people (most of them anyway) that didn’t give a shit about anybody but themselves. So instead of turning right, towards her own medium-sized home, with her warm bed, where her family was waiting. She turned left.

Towards the cut.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (7)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Twinkle twinkle little star...

How I wonder what you are...

You hear this refrain as you try to escape him. You run desperately through these long corridors that follow each other and collide like an endless Labyrinth. But the more you advanced the more you heard that voice.  

Hold your breath and count to ten...

Praise your Lord it’s soon the end...

You suddenly find yourself in front of a dead end. It's getting closer... A sinister sneer was heard.

Twinkle twinkle little star...

Time for you to fall and ... DIE.  

A white mask appears in front of you with a knife in his hand. You wake up startled and sweaty, panting and putting a hand on your chest. Then a sigh of relief, all this was a nightmare. Since your conversation with Ghostface, this nightmare haunts you, this feeling of insecurity, knowing that it could appear at any time to kill you... it was horrible.

You're watching your alarm clock, 9:30. Fortunately for you, it's your day off, you have to take your day too, right? You stretch for a long time before heading to the bathroom to pass some water over your face.

“Come on, I've been through a lot worse than being the target of a fucking lunatic. He said that, until I tell the police, he won't kill me. He will eventually forget me, I'm sure... At least, I hope so.”  

After you get dressed you leave the bathroom to prepare breakfast, then you sit in front of the television to find out the news of the day. As you listened to the news, your eyes turned to the pictures hanging on the walls.  

A photo catches your attention in particular: Your parents sit at the beach, your mother holding you in her arms, your father smiling with all his teeth fresh bottles of beer in his hand. it was your uncle who took this picture and gave it to your mother as a souvenir. Then she gave it to you.

No brothers and sisters, you're an only child. But you didn’t have the feeling of solitude that all the unique children had because your parents have always been there. You shake your head, your eyes closed, then you get up to kiss the photo softly before sitting back on the sofa.  

The information is quite repetitive nothing new, nor interesting. You change channels until you stumble upon a series, when someone knocks on the door. given the force in the door knocks, it could only be Mrs. Lawson who surely brought you your mail. or cookies.

“Mrs Lawson! Do you need something?” you said with a bright smile.  

“Oh no my dear...in fact, I made cookies and I thought you would like to have some. I’ve followed your advices and James loves them more than before!” She responds with a laugh holding you a packet full of cookies.  

“Well thanks! But please come in! I’ll make some tea! Earl Gray, I presume?  

“Yes, Thank you sweetheart. What a lovely home you have! It's really different compared to the ancient tenant. He was always absent and this place was the kingdom of dust. Excepted for the bedroom and the bathroom, he never cleaned anything here.”

“Ewwww...Fortunately for him I wasn’t living here with him, otherwise I'll kick his ass for being such lazy. Don’t worry that’s not my case! This is and will stay as clean as the first day!” you said as you prepared and put the tea on the table. “You and Mr Lawson are a lovely couple; how did you meet him?”

“Oh, James and I, we've known each other since we were kids, we’re going to the same school. He was playful and a little impatient. But he was a loyal friend and his kindness was endless. And I'm not talking about the charm he had with women. The only flaw I can find is that he is often distracted and it's not new, I can’t remember how many times he goes to the infirmary. Then we each made our way... and 41 years ago, to the day, we dated. And since then, I've never left him. At 71 and 72 years old we still have the spirit we had when we were 30!” She chuckles before taking a sip of her tea.

“Well, your Kids must be proud to have parents who have loved each other so much all this time as you. And your grandchildren too! “

“oh, if only I had...Unfortunately, I am sterile and we have never been able to have children... but James never abandoned me even for that.”

“Oh...I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to...” You said really embarrassed.  

“It’s nothing. Is this your family on those photos? Your parents must be proud to have a beautiful and kind girl like you. I envy them so much. It must have been difficult for them to see their little girl leave the house...I'll hope you call them sometimes to reassure them.”

You remain silent on her last words. The situation is...complicated and too many things come to your mind. Things you'd rather have forgotten forever. And others you want to keep until your last day. You talk for a few more minutes with Mrs. Lawson, whom you learned during the discussion that her name was Meredith, before she left your apartment smiling and more lightly having someone to talk to when her husband is not there.

You put everything in the sink to wash it, and the packet of cookies in one of the kitchen closets, where all your treats are usually located. But shhh... It's a secret. Then you look at the piece of paper on your fridge which is Jed’s number.  

He gave it to you when needed. But you don't want to disturb him, risk his life. After all what will Ghostface do if he ever realizes that Jed is also in confidence? he said he would not kill him as it was because of him that he was the star of Roseville. But if he ever realizes that he knows far too much... You shake your head, preferring not to think in what state he might leave that poor Jed if the urge to kill him took Ghostface.

You head to your room, to look at the different dresses you had for the reception. Jed and his colleagues have warned you that proper dress is required once there and everyone knows that for the rich, proper dress means for us an outfit bordering on the overpriced.

“well then, what do I have in there that could do the trick? This one? No, too eccentric. Maybe this one? Hm... No, too flash, if I want to look like a traffic light this dress is perfect. Oh, maybe this one! No no no, too English schoolgirl...”

You looking during 30 minutes before giving up. None of these dresses will fit darling, you'll have to buy one... luckily you were saving for this kind of situation. A clothing emergency doesn't prevent!  

You take your bag before leaving the apartment, determined to find this dress. The one that not only will allow you not to get thrown out, but that may impress Jed. Hold on... What?

“But what am I thinking... Remains serious mollusc brain! Jed is your neighbour, nothing more! Even if he has a rather pleasant physique to look at, an angel face and eyes... Ahhhh his eyes... but what's wrong with me???”

“huh...You’re okay?”  

Note to yourself: never talk alone or we'll think you're crazy. You turn to face Jed, looking at you a little worried but also surprised. You laugh slightly embarrassed when trying to find your words. Good luck.

“Oh Jed! Hum yes, I'm fine! I was just...going outside...” you start before sighing “sorry... I'm going out for an emergency dress. For the reception. Unfortunately, I have none that will allow me not to find myself outside at the entrance...”

“I suspected it a little ... Then... I thought you'd like it.” He said holding a packet to you.  

“oh Jed...You shouldn’t...I can’t, really...” you replied before open the package pulling out a beautiful purple dress. “She’s beautiful. How do you know that was my favourite color?”

“I didn’t know. But... I thought you'd be the only person worthy of wearing her in this town.”

“Thanks...You know what? Tonight, I'll pay you for the restaurant! And I insist! If you refuse, no more cakes.” you laugh.

“Yes, ma'am. I give in to such a threat, I care too much about your cakes for that.” he said raising his hands in the air, laughing too. “See you tonight then”. He replied before leaving. You look at the dress while going home.  

That won't stop you from buying one for tonight. Well, it will not be a luxury dress either, but at least enough to be presentable. Brushing your hair a little won't be too much either. Because I doubt that, being dressed in sweatshirts and jeans is the best idea of the century. And above all... be careful. No inappropriate topics and no questions too personal.

You fold and store the purple dress in an empty locker in your wardrobe before you go out to buy tonight's dress. you take the opportunity to go to the café to check that nothing has been stolen or vandalized. You make at least three clothing stores before you find your dress: black with white and red floral pattern with very short sleeves. Simple, soft but effective. On the way you met Lindsey, the florist who, thanks to you, saw her clientele increase.

In the evening, dressed and coiffed, you and Jed left the building to go to dinner. From a distance, we might think you're a young couple dating. You both agreed to a Chinese restaurant, one of the best in Roseville. While eating you were discussing about everything and nothing... let's say you ask more questions about him than he does about you.

“I never thought you'd have had so many adventures... But... I want to know more. I want to know about little Jed Olsen, the pure boy from Florida.” you said eating a spring roll.  

“Well, I don't see what more I could tell you about me... When I was little, the other kids thought I was...weird. And they made fun of me because I was the "chouchou" of the school, the poor and weak Jed Olsen. As I told you before, my parents considered me as a mistake. You suspect that they were not going to defend me... they were acting in front of everyone but then...” he responds taking a sip of wine.

“I’m sorry... I don't understand how they can be so horrible with a child...Look at you today! You have a job, a fairly stable situation, you are a beautiful young man... and they miss all that. Just because you're a mistake to them.”

“I managed on my own as soon as I could. I had to have... 15/16 when I emancipated myself. it wasn't easy, but it taught me two or three things. But let's talk about you. Miss Rainbow.”

“hey I had the prettiest rainbow dress! my mother and I had spent a whole day doing it. And it paid off. Otherwise, I don't have much to say either. A normal life... a teenager... almost normal. A mundane life in short. And then I wanted to fly on my own. To create something personal. That's why I moved here.”

“And how did your parents react? I guess they must have cried when they saw you leave the family nest.”

“It’s...complicated. I don’t wanna talk about that. For now.”

He simply nods before eating again. After paying the bill for both meals, you leave the restaurant with Jed, laughing at one of his work anecdotes. Although he remains shy about some things, Jed seems more comfortable with you. As you were about to return to the car, several men stood in front of you, armed with iron bars. Instinctively you take Jed's hand and squeeze it tightly.

“What do you want?” Ask Jed calmly.

“Nothing to do with you, redhead. The boss has a message for her. So, get out of there, or you're going to taste my bar.” respond one of them.  

“Ready to run?” Jed replied looking at you holding tightly your hand. When you nod, he hits hard enough in a trash can to send it over your aggressors before pulling you by the hand to escape. “Come on! This way!”

“GET THEM BOYS !!!” Scream one of them.

You follow Jed blindly, while memorizing the path taken in case you manage to sow them to return to the car. After a while you find yourself in a dead end, your pursuers getting closer little by little.

“What do we do now???” you ask panicked and breathless.

“... Give me a hand." He responds pushing a big trash can.  

Placing it so that you could pass on the other side of the wall, you were about to go up when Jed took your hand shaking his head. He hit the lid of the trash can loud enough with his hand to make your assailants, who were getting closer and closer, believe that you were actually climbing the wall. Then taking your hand, he walked down a narrow and closed alley, hiding you both deep so that no one would see you.

Jed beckoned you to remain silent, before taking a light look, hearing the assailants stop in front of the wall. By pure reflex, you tighten against him, your arms tightening around his waist, your face buried in his torso.

“Shit! They managed to escape! Goddamnit, the boss is going to be mad.” said the one of the assailants.

The band leaves after a few minutes. Jed looked at you surprised before smiling slightly and patting your shoulder.

“They’re gone...We can go now. Are you alright?” He asks with a smile.

“Y-yeah... I'm sure it's that guy... McKellan who hired these guys. it seems that he wants more than to send me a message...” you start to say before blushing and releasing Jed. “Sorry...W-we should go home now.”  

You go back to your car, re-borrowing the road and finally go home. What a night! The fear of being attacked at your home wins over you and, while Jed is about to return to his apartment wishing you good night, you stop him by taking his arm.

“Wait! I... I don’t feel safe to sleep alone at home tonight. Can you...can you just stay with me? Promise it will be the first and the last time.”

“Well... if it makes you feel better... Why not.” responds Jed with a smile while Danny smiles devilishly. You let the wolf enter in the sheepfold? Poor you, you don’t know what you do. Even if he sleeps on the sofa, he can now explore better your home.  

You both enter your apartment and prepare something to sleep on the couch for Jed. He didn't mind, he used to do it with work. You take the opportunity to show him where the coffee is and what to eat if he ever gets up before you tomorrow morning.

“Are you sure you don't mind?” you ask.

“Don’t worry. I'll try not to make too much noise. Rest well and relax. I’m here. Good night...and thanks for the restaurant.” he responds with his angelic smile.

“...Good night Jed.” you replied, kissing him on the cheek unwittingly.

You blush when you see him put his hand on his cheek, surprised, and quickly go to your room by closing the door. Your gesture will not remain inconsequential... Maybe it's going to affect your fate. In a way you'll never dare think about it.

***

(Done! I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas to all of you! In these difficult times, nothing beats the Christmas holidays to find some joy and not think about what is happening now! fingers crossed that the year a month is better than this one! If you have questions for me or if you just want to talk, just do!  See ya! )

[1337wtfomgbbq]

I gotta rant for a second here. I hate this app. Okay maybe not this whole app, more the people on here. Specifically the people in the supernatural community. Yes talking to you. I can’t believe I’m even back into this with you guys.

I know people can pick and chose which characters they like and which they dislike. I know, for some trauma and whathaveyou also plays into what they feel towards a character.

But I am just so mad. I’m on a little bit of a rewatch, as you are, of season 1 to 3 (maybe some episodes of 4 and 5) because those are the only good seasons, and I just wanna look at some posts of my favorite character.

But my favorite character happens to be John.

TLDR: John's character is complex as fuck and people like to oversimplify and villify him, for no reason other than „BuT My DaAAadYY WaS ShiTTy!!!!“

And I get it. People on here disregard season 1-3, even the writers disregarded what JDM wanted John to be: “I don’t think he’s as screwed-up as other people do,” Morgan told EW. “I think he is a guy who’s got a tremendous amount of love for his family. He was willing to die for his sons, willing to put himself in a place to where he could lose his life for revenge on what killed his wife. So as much has been said about John or that I’ve heard about John, I think what is missing is that he shows love in different ways. Maybe he wasn’t a big hugger and he didn’t say the right things when he should’ve — and there’s a bigger picture about getting your kids into hunting ghosts that I should acknowledge — but I think at his core he really loved his family and was willing to sacrifice everything. So I never looked or played John in a way that there was any malice toward his sons.”

People project what went wrong in their lifes and with their fathers on this app SO HARD. To be fair they do that everywhere. But it's so infuriating when it's done to a character you love so much.

And as much as I wanna be understanding I am just so pissed.

Hear me out: Back when I first started watching supernatural (I was fucking 12 back then, can you believe that) and my friend was all „OMG Sam is such a treat. He's mine!“ I thought, okay I'm gonna take Dean then.

The coin finally dropped on me in 'Shadow' and I realized „Heck, screw Dean, I'm taking John!“ (Not that I told my friend that, LOL. I hadn't realized just then that I prefer older guys)

And attraction is one thing, but the character spoke to me on such a deep level too. I mean, you got a dude whos wife died in a way that he cannot explain in a rational way, only to have his eyes opened to the supernatural by Missouri. And it turns out whatever killed his wife also did some fucked up shit to his kid and is after, not only his youngest but, all of them.

So he's forced to take his kids on the run. But, he's also an ex-marine, he's a soldier and he can't leave other people to die at the hands and claws and teeth of monsters and ghosts and strigas and whathaveyou. Which leaves him struggling to ballance protecting and caring for his kids and saving people and hunting things, AND finding the thing that killed his wife.

The way John's situation was set up (ignoring for a second what we learn in later seasons) and the way Sam was brought up by him created a relationship that was bound to escalate; it was only a matter of time.

Season 1 to 3 we got a John that was distant and rough, but a John that recognized he fucked up along the way and who saught to rectify where he went wrong with his boys.

Season 1 episode 20: „You gotta understand something. After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you...prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I ... uh ... I stopped being your father and I ... I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was, that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me -- We're just different.“

And guess what, Sam admits seconds later: „We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess... Well we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone.“

Season 1 episode 21: „I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.“

John literally on the show in person, Jeffrey Dean Morgan Season 1, admits that he didn't want ANYTHING OF WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHAT HE HAD TO DO TO HAPPEN!!!!

Sure, Sam suggested to Dean that John's just „working overtime on Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later“ in the very first episode but we never see John drink alcohol, for all he's on screen in season one, ONCE. (1x1) Suggesting that John did have a drinking problem but somewhere between Sam going off to college and the pilot he kicked that habit.

Sure, Sam is clearly vindictive BUT, when faced with a kid with a clearly abusive father, he also says that, „Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max' childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.“ (1x14)

We see him cry on multible occasions in season one and two, we see him hug both Sam and Dean and tell BOTH OF THEM that he is proud of them. Heck, he couldn't shut up about how proud he was of them. Like Jerry told Sam in 1x4 „Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell, He talked about you all the time.“ He kept Sam's soccer trophie, and Dean's first sawed off. He fucking died to safe Dean.

Yeah, he told Dean that he'd have to kill Sam if he goes evil but...

Let's take into consideration season 4 and 5, and John wasn't all too wrong for telling Dean this. Even if we ignore all that, as John probably didn't have the full picture, John didn't knew the extend of Sam's powers. As is always said, „With great power comes great responsibility“. We have seen in comics, shows, movies, all over pop culture and history, how easily great power can corrupt, don't matter how nice and righteous that person is.

Let's take into consideration what was added in season 4 and 5: Like John having another family, the fact that cupid had to get him and Mary together, Mary making a deal with Azazel, the few demons (not even all of them) Lucifer showed Sam who had been put into his life by yellow eyes; even that just adds more credence to the already established character.

Of course John was bound to have flings after Mary, you can't expect a widower to just be celibate forever. And it wasn't even that he bailed on her, he literally didn't know there was a child until twelve years later.

And considering John's erratic 'work schedule' and how little we know of Kate, maybe it was her that wanted John not to have much contact to her son. The whole situation with Adam isn't exactly clear, and told through the eyes of a ghoul. Plus, we all saw where John's decision to leave Adam in the dark about the supernatural had him end up (namely killed by a ghoul).

The fact that cupid had to get John and Mary together only gives more ammunition for my argument that John was only working with what was given to him. Pretty much everyone from hell to heaven was meddling in his life.

Getting ahead with headcanons here but, for all we know John and Mary would've never ended up together; for all we know Mary was a lesbian and John was bi; for all we know they could've still worked out without cupid's help. Who knows? We don't because heaven took that decision away from both John and Mary.

The fact that Mary made a deal with Azazel to safe John's life in exchange for Azazel to be able to enter her home in ten years time, again, caused something to happen down the line that affected John and the boys that John had no control over.

And I gotta thank Lucifer for his part, because it gives EVEN MORE credence as to why John couldn't give Dean and Sam a normal life. He reveals SOME of the people Azazel planted into Sam's life that were actually possessed by demons.

„LUCIFER: Look closely. None of these little devils look familiar to you? SAM: That's Mr. Bensman... One of my grade-school teachers. LUCIFER: And that's your friend Doug from that time in East Lansing. And Rachel... your prom date. Sam Winchester, this is your life. Azazel's gang – watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. I know how you feel about them. Me too. So, what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?“ (5x22)

A few episodes earlier we found out that his friend Brady, the one that introduced him to Jess, was actually possessed by a demon, and the one that fucking killed her.

„BRADY (chuckles): Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh... middle of our sophomore year?

SAM: What?

BRADY: That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.

SAM: You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch! (Sam approaches Brady, Dean holds him back) You introduced me to Jess!

BRADY: Ding, ding! I think he's got it!“ (5x20)

All of this paints a clear picture for me, of a man that got played by fate and heaven and hell and was only trying to play the cards all of them dealt him to the best of his ability. Did he fuck up along the way, yes, did he show remorse for that and did he wish he could've given Sam and Dean a better life, Yes.

I completely understand people liking one character and disliking another, even projecting onto characters I get. And I get that people's life experiances lead them to different conclusions.

But it pisses me off so much that I can't go into the 'John Winchester' tag without having to read some shit as fuck take on John.

I have to read people saying that he never told Dean he was proud of him and that the only time he did so he was possessed by Azazel. Which isn't even true, but a motherfucking lie.

Season 2, episode 1; when John WASN'T POSSESSED ANYMORE he said to Dean: „You know, when you were a kid... I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen... I'd be wrecked. And you... You'd come up to me... you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye. You'd say, "It's okay, Dad." Dean. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you. You know, I put... I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know... that I am so proud of you.“

I have to read people forget or disregard that John was literally a righteous man. Alastair tried to break John and John didn't break for a century and then clawed his way OUT OF HELL TO SAFE HIS SONS IN 2x22. John must've had righteousness in heaven (which would come through faith in Jesus) and righteousness on earth (which would come through living through the commandments) as long as that's what the writers meant with 'righteous man'.

I have to read stuff John would apparently do only because we learn in 'Dark side of the Moon' that John and Mary's marriage wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and that John even moved out for a period. Even though we don't know who caused that fight and what it was about, literally it could've been Mary's fault and John only left to cool off. And even if not, marriages aren't just sunshines and rainbows. Fights happen, bad stuff is worked out. That would be true even without the cupid spell.

I have to read someone projecting their experiance with their father onto John. I have to read about someone saying John would've been such a dick because he was in the military and fought in the vietnam war, and we all know that's what all sodiers back then were (dicks). I have to read about how homophobic and transphobic John obviously was. I have to read about how much John would've been racist to Sam and Dean if they'd been mixed.

John was born in 1954, he has to be homophobic and transphobic and racist and bigoted and everthing you can think of. It can't be possible for someone to be born during that time and not be, right. (I hope you recognize the sarcasm)

Everybody is screaming 'child abuse' as loud as they can without taking into account the unique world those characters inhabit and the situation fate, heaven and hell put John and the boys into.

Dean could dig himself out of his grave because John used to bury them alive and had them dig their way out of a coffin as training!!!? Are yall good?? Literally what did your parents do to you, what went wront in your life that you think shit like this?!

And I get it, you can headcanon all you want. I myself headcanon John as bi and that Azazel knew and used this fact.

The writers did John so dirty in later seasons, and I'm not even alone in this, JDM agrees with me.

„But it always bugged me that the John that I played is different than the John that has been portrayed since I haven't been around. I really wanted the opportunity to be able to come back and make amends in a way and try to fix the sullied name of this character. But more than that, it's three friends, life lived. It feels like we've been friends for a lifetime now, getting to reunite in a place that we love and that we met and do what we do and I think that is super cool. So not only does John win in getting to come back and see his boys and Mary again and hopefully make some amends, it's just as cool for me, the actor, to be able to come back and see everybody.“

I'm sorry, but if Snape fans are allowed to be pissed about people suggesting Snape would've been creeping on Harry if he had been female and looked like Lilly, I can be pissed about everybody and their grandma in this fucking fandom painting John in the worst light possible.

JDM created such a great character with depth and who was interesting, even in season 4 and 5 they were still respectfull to his character, but the later seasons were just *throws up *

And I mean, I get it, I disregard canon too. Like, I disregard everything after season 5, that's Sam hallucinating in hell to me. Sometimes even after season 3, cause I don't feel like dealing with the angels, and cas and destiel and all that.

I get it, I get it, I get it.

But I too have the right to be pissed off about the way people like to shit on my fav.

Long story short, I love John and how complex and grey his character is and I HATE IT how simple and 'black and white' people wanna make him out to be. I wanna punch a bitch. I wanna throw hands right now.