Tumgik
#I don’t think it’s uniquely terrible but I do think it sets out with some very lofty goals and faceplants in an attempt to achieve them
willowcrowned · 10 months
Note
“Making anyone over the age of 8 watch tcw should be forbidden” okay, but why?
because it’s bad in the way only bad kids shows can be. and then it’s also bad in fifteen other ways
32 notes · View notes
sun-snatcher · 7 months
Note
YOUR MEDIC!READER X JET HAS BREATHED LIFE INTO ME. MAKE THEM HOLD HANDS. I BEG. THE PINING IS INSANE. The atla jet fandom is DRY so you're doing god's work out here 😭 😭 (Or anything tbh! I'm absolutely in love with your writing 😭❤️)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🌾 ・ HAND IN LOVING HAND
summ. Jet comes into a dawning realisation. It starts with a mission gone wrong. pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader w.count. 0.7k ( just a blurb! ) a/n. Ask and you shall receive! I’m so glad you love medic!reader as much as I do!
Tumblr media
He figures, later, that it might have started with Operation: Creeping Cricket. 
Courtesy to Smellerbee for the unique mission name, ofcourse. 
That had involved, to date: A handful of Freedom Fighters itching for a fight, an imprisoned pair of orphan twins they’d planned to break out, a couple of dumb Fire Nation spies, and the leaky walls they called the borders of Omashu. 
Except, ofcourse, it wouldn’t be a mission without a series of unfortunate events, of which occurred: a storm that changed Sneers’ accurately-predicted course of said Fire Nation spies, which meant their little hostages that they’d come to rescue would be headed down a different path, which also meant their traps lining on the trail towards the borders of Omashu— that The Duke had spent a frustratingly long amount of time setting up— would be rendered useless.
They settled on a brute force ambush instead, much to your disdain; you were, after all, a better healer than you were a fighter.
“This was a terrible—!” You pause to dodge a burst of white hot flames from a Fire Nation soldier. The rain is quick to dampen their efforts, luckily for you. “This was a terrible plan, Jet!”
He strains to hear you underneath the torrent. “Don’t blame me, Pipsqueak started it! Duck!”
You duck. Another spy crumples behind you, thanks to the swing of Jet’s tiger blades, and as the soldier lands on the ground— that’s when you notice it; the quaking rumble of earth, the jumping of stones.
Earth Kingdom Guards have caught wind.
In the distance, Longshot produces a birdcall from high above— shrill and piercing, one that’s rarely ever been used amongst the rebellion— a warning. Retreat. The Freedom Fighters are outnumbered. Scatter. 
The ground erupts beneath you, and you scream. You practically sweep Jet off his feet as you snatch his hand and take off to higher ground to avoid the rising tempest. Hot on your heels, both of you can feel the snap and crackle of roots tearing deep underneath as the kingdom guards begin their manhunt. 
“Quick!” you urge, as he trips over his footing. You glance at him over your shoulder, giving him a squeeze in your intertwined fingers as you check, “Hey, you hurt?”
“I— uh, no,” he stumbles, for some reason. Nothing but superficial cuts and bruises, anyway. He’ll live. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
It could’ve been minutes or an hour of just running, he isn’t quite sure— he’s too busy noting how your hands fit awfully perfect against his, and how despite the rain and muck, you still managed to look... collected. (Collected, he thinks, because he refused to admit anything unforgivably romantic.) Jet lets himself be led across the maze of woodland and grass, and catches himself wondering whether the hand holding had been a conscious move at all.
At the time, he’d decided it didn’t matter. 
It shouldn’t, Jet had reasoned to himself, as you tugged him underneath an overhang and into a hidden crevice. Beyond the roguish charm and borderline flirtatious jokes he liked to play at— both of you were, at the end of the day, amidst an unending war. You were the Rebellions’ resident medic, and he was their token leader. There was no time to entertain fairytales and pipedreams.
“I think we lost them,” you pant, peeking over. “Do you think the others are okay?”
Jet looks at you, fights back the urge to tuck the rain-wet strands of your hair behind your ear so he can see your face better; how the light hits your profile and sets your eyes alight, down to the tip of your nose, and to your mud-stained cheeks. Collected. Capable, he reminds himself. Not pretty. Not pretty. Not—
“What’s wrong?” you ask, when you’d caught his gaze. “Jet?”
“Ah. Uh, nothing,” he blinks away— too fast; too quick to hide the obvious lie. “The others can handle themselves. Let’s, let’s wait for the storm to pass.”
This is simply camaraderie, he’d convinced himself, and stifled down the barb of disappointment that crept in him when you were the first to finally let go.
Right?
Tumblr media
295 notes · View notes
scourgeblooms · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
wanted to do a physical timeline for my commander and highlight how he’s changed through the years. this is mostly for my own entertainment BUT I do enjoy seeing the same thing from other folks so I’m posting it here in the hopes that other people share my sentiment. 
(I was ALSO totally inspired by @/manasurge’s hair timeline. it kicks ass. go look at it.) 
elaboration/rambling below the cut!
Personal Story, LW1-2: Popped out of the pod blunt, solicitous, and already maybe a little too paranoid for someone who was born yesterday, but all those traits made him uniquely qualified for a position in military leadership.  Healthy and floral, soft aspen-bark-like skin, delicate petals. black anthers produce pollen. undergoes more fashion changes than physical transformations during this time. gets a little banged up here and there (and maybe has some lasting respiratory effects from the toxic alliance era) but overall feelin a-okay. 
Heart of Thorns: it’s all gone to shit. took a spectacular headdive in both a physical and mental sense with breakneck speed. never “officially” answered mordremoth’s call, but anyone who spent time around him would notice a distinct lack of self control and logical thinking. took on a more sickly pallor, stress caused leaves to shrivel, rot, and decay. lost his lil flower top notch and ability to produce pollen. pupils narrowed to take on a more animalistic look, and enamel growth resulted in sharper, larger teeth. fingers also elongated into claws. never fully physically and mentally recovered from the hell jungle. 
LW3: chopped off most of his leaves to encourage fresh growth. lots of physical healing during this time, though it takes quite a while for his complexion to fully recover. takes on the role of aurene’s champion with gusto. relatively unaffected by bloodstone, but feels the effects of mordremoth’s loose/uncontrolled magic deeply. continues to hear mordremoth’s “voice” and is diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. 
Path of Fire: still healing from HoT. continues to grow out his leaves. glow returns, as well as some of his eye color. likes the crystal desert, but finds the harsh, dry climate to be particularly challenging; he’s definitely more of a ‘temperate’ sylvari. does not handle dying well. death only adds to his paranoia and psychosis. has an increasingly hard time picking apart what is real and what is…. not. 
LW4: let’s get ready to kill an undead lich!!!! absorbs even more magic after the death of joko and kralkatorrik, and it starts to show in a there-and-gone shimmery aura that takes on a similar appearance to ley lines. starts to suffer from migraine auras. flower top notch grows back, but stays closed and dormant. picks up a few nifty necromancy tricks from the elonians, and the tips of his fingers start to show signs of necrotic decay; all that death magic can’t be good for the complexion, can it? 
Icebrood Saga: having another dragon in his head does not help his mental health in the slightest. braided leaves (courtesy of braham <3) to protect against frostbite. his ley “aura” gets more intense, hard to miss, and is a near constant. flower topnotch remains closed due to the cold weather conditions. after being shot by bangar, his wound is covered/healed by aurene’s brand. migraines increase in frequency, makes it difficult for him to focus. a bone deep exhaustion starts to set in, and more often than not, he catches himself thinking that a nice long nap underneath a blanket of snow doesn’t sound so terrible….
End of Dragons: back in a more agreeable climate, his topnotch finally blooms, but does not grow anthers or produce pollen. easily physically corrupted by void magic, and he feels soo-won’s pain and struggle deeply. the void corruption eventually shows up in the form of darkening leaves, and seeping out of his eyes/tearducts (it’s fine. don’t worry about it.). starts to incorporate chaos magic into his own necromancy practices. has a fucking terrible time in gyala delve. has a fucking terrible time saying goodbye to aurene. 
Secrets of the Obscure: nothing feels entirely real to him anymore. still willing to help, to fight, but it’s done on autopilot at this point. this magical, floating palace in the sky looks and feels like a dream, with the kryptis acting as the encroaching, inevitable turn to a real, living nightmare. still uses a bit of leftover void in his magical practices, but most of the corruption has left his system. that respiratory illness he picked up back in kessex hills comes back to bite him in nayos. finally grows back his anthers, but instead of producing pollen, it's an outlet for void/magic energy.
152 notes · View notes
pet-pet-peet · 1 year
Note
For the 100 follower event can i request the pocky game hcs like the dorm leaders but with the vice dorm leaders this time? If thats okay
👉👈
I’m very down, vice dorm leader requests = bat daddy requests Story: When visiting you in your world, you introduce him to pocky and say you have to play the pocky game since it’s pocky day! * This is female reader, but I generally don’t use many gendered terms in my writing..just know that I’ll opt more for feminine ones if I add any (aka, probably good for anyone, but the occasional gendered term will be female) Tw: lots of kissing and intimacy, Lilia's is a bit spicy as always, ORTHO IS INVOLVED BUT HIS HAS NONE OF THE PREVIOUS THINGS MENTIONED HIS IS WHOLESOME AND PLATONIC AND THERE IS NO PHYSICAL TOUCH INVOLVED
Pairing(s): Trey, Ruggie, Jade, Jamil, Rook, Ortho (platonic I promise), Lilia x female reader playing the pocky game (separate)
𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖞
He’s heard of something like pocky before, but he’s never tried making some
Probably asks if you want to make some with him so you two can try it out and see how it goes; ends up being pretty fun!
After making sure they tasted okay, you told him about the pocky game and it had him curious, he asks you to tell him more
After your explanation, he smiles kindly and asks if you want to play it
You both bite your respective ends and muffle a “three..two..one!” Thus, the race begins
As you almost reached the halfway mark, Trey took a big bite and beat you to it, looking at you with a mischievous gaze
Your pouting only made him feel more accomplished, and he quickly agreed to a rematch
You put a piece of pocky between you both and continue the rematch
This time he got as close as he could before pulling back suddenly and laughing a bit, saying you won
Every turn after is a mixed bag of reactions from him, but he definitely keeps you on your toes
𝕽𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖊
This little shit- don't expect anything fair..
He's honestly not too interested in the idea of a pocky game, he doesn't think you should play with food
That said, he did get kind of curious when you explained it to him
He would agree to only one round, but he wouldn't do anymore (for free)
You put the pocky between you both and both of you bite down on your respective ends
Then no one moves- you both just stare at each other while holding pocky between
You decide you'll go for the kill, but figure out you actually can't move
Ruggie laughs at your puzzled expression
He uses his unique magic to just make you give him the stick of pocky and he eats it quickly before you could do anything
Pecks your lips before getting up and leaving with the rest of the pocky
𝕵𝖆𝖉𝖊
You ask if he's ever had pocky, to which he says he's heard of it but never had it
You then make a terrible mistake by asking it he wants to try it by playing the pocky game
You have his curiosity, so he asks you to explain the roles; he listens intently with a calm smile
He requests that you demonstrate what you're meant to do, his smile grew as if he was talking about his beloved mushrooms
You go ahead and set the game up between you two
You start taking slow bites towards the center, but notice that Jade's not moving at all
He stayed like that for a bit longer, just watching you chew closer and closer
At some point, he puts his head on your chin and gently pull you closer, giving you a short kiss
He smiles innocently when you pull away, saying he thought it was an interesting game and that you two should play more
Sits silently like a menace as he "innocently" watches you stumble over yourself
𝕵𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑
He doesn't usually have much time for games, or himself..or you for that matter-
But anytime he can be around you, he wants to make sure you're satisfied
Kind of concerning, between worrying about Kalim's need and worrying about your needs he doesn't seem to have much time for himself
So you decided that this would be a good way for him to let loose a little
You both sat under a tree, his head laying on your lap as you both shared a box of pocky
You asked him to just hold one in his mouth, so he did while looking at you with curiosity
He lowkey got flustered when you leaned closer and ate at the pocky, he almost choked on it, but he kept in that position
You made it to his lips and kissed him sweetly, he returned the gesture but was a bit confused on your approach with it
You told him he should have more time to just be, and not have to worry about satisfying people
He was slightly embarrassed about being called out, but he let you take care of him a bit more afterwards
𝕽𝖔𝖔𝕶
He was on board as soon as you mentioned that there was a game
No hesitation, he put a pocky in his mouth without even hearing the rules
When you asked if he wanted to know them, he shook his head and stared at you expectantly
He watched as you started to eat the pocky, but he didn't move
When you were about to touch his lips you pulled back, which confused him
You laughed at his thoughtful reaction and proclaimed victory, making him think even more
In the end he just laughed and congratulated you for your victory
Endless praises as he asks in a chivalrous way for a rematch, which you accept
It essentially was the same as the first round, which made you feel a bit bad since in your mind he clearly didn't understand the rules
Head went empty when he pulled you into a kiss before you were able to back away, though
𝕺𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖔
He noticed you always talk about pocky with Idia, so he found a way to make some for you!
Brought out his (slightly burnt) homemade pocky sticks during one of your binge nights with him and his brother
You ate them regardless of their faults, but felt a bit bad that Ortho couldn't indulge in his creation too
So you asked him and Idia if they wanted to play a game with the pocky!
Idia was a bit on the fence but asked for you to explain the rules
You distributed an even amount of pocky to each of you, saying that whoever makes the best creation (via Magicam poll) with the limited amount of pocky in 30 minutes wins
Both brothers seemed interested, so you set the timer and all of you rushed to stack pocky pieces
It wasn't the easiest, since pocky didn't exactly like to stay in the positions you put it, but you gave it your all
Ortho had the advantage, as he could use a small laser to melt the chocolate enough to stick them together
Magicam agreed, as Ortho's cute little pocky cabin got majority of the votes
𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆
He was incredibly curious about pocky since it's not something he's experienced
In all his travels, never once had he heard of it, so trying the snack from your world was something he was very invested about
Especially with how much you seemed to gush about it
As you pulled a box out and toward him, he noticed a cute slyness twinkle in your eyes, and you mentioned a game
He asked for the rules, so he knew what he was getting into; it was inevitable that he'd accept the challenge
He made sure to run his fingers over your scalp and behind your ear, attempting to fluster you as you took your positions
Otherwise he played fair for the round
Playing fair doesn't mean going easy, he gave it his all and it payed off
He won and gave you a celebratory kiss
You probably don't play anymore rounds after, he'd rather take the intimate opportunity to make out with you
467 notes · View notes
mousical · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
his engineer, her driver
pairing; female!engineer x lando norris
warnings; none!
type; head cannons
a/n; underrated dynamic me thinks
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
having the cutest radio moments
so many youtube compilations of your interactions
“Radio check please, Lando.”
“I love you!”
“Loud and clear.”
you’re trying to remain professional, but he doesn’t really care
i mean the team is pretty much used to it by now.
that doesn’t mean you aren’t embarrassed every single time he says something affectionate over the radio.
especially because you just know it’s going to get broadcasted.
sky sports eats it up every single time
getting scared every time he crashes, but also having to stay composed.
“Are you okay? Confirm you’re okay.”
“M’ Okay. Were you worried about me?”
“Engine off.”
needed to set clear boundaries to separate your work from your relationship
there were definitely some arguments after sochi 2021
as soon as you’re both off track, work talk is BANNED
no matter how much you try to explain it, he has no idea how the car works.
“I just don’t get it. How is Red Bull so fast on the straights?”
“I told you. Their sidepod design really minimizes drag while still optimizing down force. It’s actually pretty brilliant-“
“Yeah, okay- but, like, how are they so fast?”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”
him defending you in the media when bad strategy calls are made
you cheering him up in the garage after a dnf.
you making regular appearances on lando.jpeg.
constantly posting him on your story.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
representing mclaren on the podium for his first win and celebrating with him!!
champagne kisses omg
surprise cameos in mclaren media videos and in the media pen!
occasionally making appearances on stream and in Quadrant videos.
always being paired together in the team videos! you carrying the both of you in the jeopardy video with your knowledge of F1.
him carrying the two of you in the mario kart video because as smart as you may be, you are a terrible driver.
the both of you facing a bit of controversy in both your shared workplace and on social media
having to deal with nosy reporters
“I guess it can be tough sometimes- but I love what I do, and I love being a part of this team. Lando is my best friend, and my partner in every sense of the word. We support each other and understand the unique demands of our careers.
Honestly, being in love with someone who shares your passion for the same thing is incredibly special. We get to experience some of the most exciting moments of our lives together, and that's something I wouldn't trade for anything."
with both of your very busy lives, you definitely prefer staying in whenever you get the chance.
much of summer break is spent snuggling under the covers and binging all the tv shows that you missed during the season.
always being the first person to congratulate him over the radio! and the first one he goes to after getting out of the car.
“That’s P5 Lando! Incredible drive, love.”
“The car was beautiful today, let’s keep up the good work!”
“Recharge on, darling.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
passing notes to each other during briefing sessions
one time zac caught you passing lando a note and made you read it out loud.
“You’re so cute when you’re not paying attention.”
in conclusion you two would be the most dynamic duo in the paddock ok thank you bye
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
873 notes · View notes
star-going-supernova · 5 months
Note
Prompt idea: Fnaf Actor au
Actors answering fans questions? Or just shenanigans & bloopers on set
Oooh, I do like a good actor AU, even if I’ve never written one before myself!
Interview
Gregory felt almost comically small in his chair between Freddy and Vanessa. His feet swung freely beneath him, not even close to reaching the footrest. He listened as the adults bantered a bit after Freddy finished answering the previous question; he was maybe a little bored, but it wasn’t too bad. And he’d been promised ice cream afterwards.
The interviewer finally moved on to the next question on her sheet, asking, “For each of you, is there any scene in particular that you enjoyed filming most?” 
Vanessa laughed. “Oh, any scene where I got to be absolutely terrible. The plotting scenes with Will in the secret basement were some of my favorites.” 
Grinning, Gregory poked her arm. “Running around in your bunny costume, not so much, right?” 
Through her laughter, Vanessa explained, “I don’t know why they never changed it, but those bunny feet had zero traction. And with all the tile—I was constantly slipping.” 
“You weren’t alone,” Freddy said ruefully. “The animatronic costumes… plastic and smooth tile simply do not mix.” 
“I think we were all pretty jealous of Gregory’s sneakers,” Vanessa snickered, nudging him. 
Gregory lifted his feet up and clicked them together, setting off the lights lining the sides. “My secret weapon,” he joked. “It’s why you never managed to catch me.” 
The interviewer laughed along with them, and once they started to calm down, prompted Vanessa, “You enjoyed playing the villain, then?” 
“Loved it,” she agreed easily. “I think this was my favorite role out of any I’ve ever had.” 
“It’s been uniquely fun for most of us,” Freddy added. “Being so silly in what is otherwise a horror story—it’s been quite the experience.” 
“And your favorite scene to film?” 
Freddy reached over and ruffled Gregory’s hair. “It’s hard to choose, but I think the our laser tag scene wins by a small margin.” 
“He’s really bad at laser tag in real life, though,” Gregory told the interviewer. 
She barked a laugh. “Oh? Did you all play together?” 
“The studio rented out the arena for several days. When we happened to finish filming there ahead of schedule, it simply made sense to put the remaining day to good use.” Freddy ducked his head a bit. “Gregory is correct, though—laser tag is not one of my strong suits.” 
“The rest of us had played before,” Vanessa consoled him, reaching over Gregory to pat Freddy’s shoulder. “I hadn’t!” Gregory said.
“Yeah, but blasting robots during filming totally counts as practice!” 
He stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck hers out right back. 
“And what about you, Gregory?” the interviewer said before they could escalate. “Did you have a favorite scene to film?” 
He’d thought about it while Vanessa and Freddy answered, so he nodded, grinning wildly. Over Vanessa’s good-natured groan, he said, “The final boss battle between me and Vanessa and Will! I had a crowbar!” He mimed swinging it like a baseball bat. 
Vanessa leaned forward. “He still has the crowbar,” she said in a faux whisper. “I don’t think anyone from the prop department is brave enough to try and take it back.” 
62 notes · View notes
calicobigamy · 1 year
Text
I can't be only one, right...?
Tumblr media
I wanted to finish the game and then write this post but I gave up. I put in 100 plus hours and just could not go on once I got into act three. Maybe no one will hear my pitiful cry from the void, but I must scream for the sake of my sanity.
I was completely and utterly disappointed by Baldur's Gate 3. 
It had huge maps like an open world game yet I had no desire to explore the settings despite their beauty. It had hours of dialogue as an RPG would and yet I found myself skipping characters' responses. The game mechanic structure was inspired by DnD, a story-telling game dictated by some rules, lucky rolls and the extent of players' imagination, yet I was strong-armed into fighting impossibly stacked battles. A story-telling game dependent on the players’ attachment to their and their teammates' characters and yet this game lacked any kind of narrative consistency or depth of feeling. 
Larian wanted to make an open world RPG, based off of DND mechanics and somehow did the worst version of all three. The studio touts that Baldur’s Gate 3 has 17,000 possible endings and 2 million words, but to what end? What did this game have to say about what happens when people rise to the challenge and become heroes despite their circumstances or fall into the dark and become the monsters they were supposed to fight? What did it suggest might happen when fate deals you a bad hand but in doing so also helps you find true friends or love with the other? Ultimately, nothing. 
BG3 is so large that it ends up being incoherent. No writing or game structure decisions were made to keep the narrative tight and on theme. It urges players to choose a moral alignment, but most decisions, good or bad, seem to end up having little effect in the end. To play the game at all you have to resort to save scumming and that in turn deflates the possible impact of so many plot points of the narrative overall. 
Forcing players to save scum in order to progress through the game is terrible design in general. Statistically speaking the bosses make impossible critical hits again and again. I was playing in the game’s “casual mode” and found myself struggling to get through confrontations with bosses that were at a lower level than my own. If you are reading and thinking oh well you are probably not using tactics or spells well, etc., let’s do a little experiment…
Take your d20 (https://rolladie.net/roll-a-d20-die if you don’t have one in person). In the third act of BG3 I had an AC of 13 as a sorcerer with 100 plus HP. Roll your d20 ten times or more. How many times out of ten would your character have gotten to hit mine successfully? Unless an enemy is extremely lucky it should be unlikely that an enemy could hit my character every turn they get. And even if they do they would have to roll for damage which is only a single d6, d8, d10 or d12 plus a modifier at lower levels depending on your class. Again an enemy would have to have an extremely lucky roll to hit me every turn AND deal significant damage. During an in person DnD session that is just a bad night for my character. In a video game on casual mode that is significantly suspicious. 
So what you might say. You've made and enjoyed the fanart, memes and etc. You got your $61 worth of playtime. So many other people were fine with the game, what is your problem? 
I love video games. They blend so many artforms and tell stories in ways never done before. It is a medium unique to our current century and when historians look back they will view video games as an insight to our culture. 
It frustrates me to no end that Baldur’s Gate 3 is considered the next gold standard. Too many games have done open world and RPGs in a fantasy setting far better for Larian (Swen Vincke) to have made the design and writing choices they did with BG3. There are so many podcasts and shows that have written better stories through the DnD format. I am embarrassed for the medium as an artist and frustrated as a player. Players and the industry deserve better than to have artists, actors, engineers etc. burn themselves out creating maximalist behemoths like this game. A game that is beautiful but basically unplayable, narratively, nihilistic and incoherent. 
166 notes · View notes
thebluestbluewords · 16 days
Text
Dis-like-Dysentery
I have a lot of very specific headcanons about Auradon Prep, and one of them is the fact that Jay is both a Smart Guy, and also chronically incapable of turning in assignments on time. For. Reasons.
this might be about one of those reasons.
+
Carlos looks up from his plate as Jay wanders over. “Dude, where were you? We started eating without you.” 
“Talking to a teacher. I submitted an assignment wrong, or something.” 
Carlos nods. He’s got a fork dangling from one hand, and there’s a leaf stuck in his hair. Sunlit from behind, Jay’s pretty sure that he’s the prettiest boy on this side of the barrier. “Oh, man. Was it Demorra? She’s super strict about the rules, especially for the online stuff. I could’ve helped you figure it out bro, you don’t have to get through her bureaucratic shit on your own.” 
Jay sets his tray down on the opposite side of the table. “Nah. It was Williams.” 
Carlos frowns. “The international lit teacher? Really?” 
They’ve been reading through Jay’s lit assignments together. Auradon expects them to type up all of their homework, so he’s been getting by with the hacked dictation program on his laptop and locking himself in the bathroom to read his essays out loud into the program with the minimum of background noise. 
There’s a peer writing tutor who does proofreading two nights a week for free, but Jay’s not gonna take his shitty essays in to her when he’s pretty sure he’ll just get laughed right back out of the student study room for the giant default font Carlos set on his computer. 
It doesn’t exactly make reading his own assignments easier, but it doesn’t make it worse either, so they’re calling it functional for now. Auradon Prep is all about “helping students embrace their unique academic talents”, so Carlos and Evie are both being pulled for more advanced classes, which is great for them, and terrible for Jay’s essays because it’s seriously starting to cut into their free time. 
That, and the trouble they’ve been getting up to after hours. 
The assistant gym teacher still hasn’t figured out who to blame for French braiding all the climbing ropes together. 
“She couldn’t read my handwriting.” 
“Fuck.” 
That’s about the shape of it. Handwritten assignments are few and far between, but Jay can’t bullshit his way through all of them. “Haha, yeah.” 
Carlos thunks his head down onto the table. “Ugh. Fuck. I can make you a handwriting font on the computer, but that’ll make in-class assignments worse if you can’t keep it up.” 
“Yup.” 
He sits up. There’s a dent on his forehead from pressing it into the table. “Eat.” 
“Not hungry,” Jay says as cheerfully as he can manage. It’s not gonna fool Carlos, but he’s not gonna show weakness in front of the royal rabble. “Anyway, we’re not going to the honor board. She’s willing to settle it with some sorta evaluation. Have you heard of dyslexia before?” 
Carlos blinks. “Dyslexia? No. I mean. It’s gotta be dis from like, disinterested, disintegrating, some sort of anti? Or else it’s dys from like, dysentery. Some sort of illness, maybe. Lex has gotta be from lexicon, lexicography. Something to do with either anti-words or a words illness? Does she think you’re sick of words?” 
Jay shrugs. “She said it’s why I’m bad at reading. Wants me to do an assessment so she can know what’s going on.” 
Carlos already has his phone out. He’s typing with one hand, the other one curled around his plate in a defensive hunch that’s almost casual. “Huh. How’s that going for her so far?” 
Jay snorts. “Fab. Nah, she didn’t do it yet. It’s a whole special test that she’s gotta send me down to the psych for.” 
“Can you reject it?” 
“If I wanna meet with the honor board and explain why I apparently have great handwriting, but only when they can’t see me do the assignments.” 
“Fuck.” 
“Yeah. At least she was cool about it.” 
Carlos groans. “Your handwriting sucks, dude. You’re not sick of writing, you’re just— your handwriting sucks.” 
“Yeah, and my fucking reading comprehension. I—“ Jay cuts himself off abruptly as the shadow of more people falls across their lunch table. “Hey, guys.” 
Mal sets her lunch tray down on Jay’s left side, leaving Ben the spot on his right. Evie’s not eating with them today. They have other friends in theory, but between Doug’s science club buddies and Carlos’s general disinterest in socializing with other humans, they didn’t bother picking a table large enough for anyone else.  
“Sorry,” Ben apologizes, even as he’s nudging his shoulder against Jay’s. It’s nice not being the only tall one sometimes. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” 
Jay leans back into the contact. “We were talking out loud, dude. It happens. You got any hot tips for the stupid assessment I’ve gotta do later?” 
“Have you tried being better?” Mal suggests. “I find that cheating works great. I could find you a spell to let one of us borrow your hands for a few hours, and so long as you can tell us what you want to write, we can control the muscles and get better handwriting than your usual chicken scratch special.” 
“Hey.”
“Would that work if you can’t see the paper?” Ben asks curiously. 
Mal frowns. “No. Not unless I modify the spell to possess your eyes too.” 
Jay represses a shudder. “Thanks, but no thanks, M. I like my eyes in one piece.” 
Carlos is scrolling rapidly on his phone, hanging half-over the table in an attempt to get closer to the three of them. “Dude, dyslexia is a brain thing that affects how you process visual input of words— aw, shit.” 
Bad. That’s the bad-news tone. Jay’s heart drops traitorously into his stomach, which suddenly isn’t feeling the tater tots on his lunch tray. “What?” 
Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing too bad. Just, I think Williams is right. You’ve said you’re shit at reading fast cause the words all look the same, right? Like, you can’t scan to identify them, you’ve gotta sound each one out.” 
Jay smashes a tater tot with the side of his fork. The destruction doesn’t make his gut feel any better. It’s not that he’s mad, it’s just— he doesn’t want to do this. Analyzing his brain sucks. He did the whole week of required therapy that the student disciplinary council required after the stuff with Mal’s mom, and he’s so fucking done with Auradon grown-ups pretending to understand why his head’s fucked up. “Yeah, so?” 
Carlos waves the phone at him. “So that’s what this is. You’ve got a brain disorder.” 
“We can fix it, right?” 
He wiggles a hand back and forth. “Ehh. Kinda. There’s techniques to make it easier, but it’s sorta like— your brain is wired for AC power input, and words are DC. It’s a misalignment. We can make an adaptor, but we can’t rip out your brain wiring.” 
“I could,” Mal offers. “I love doing illegal magic.”
46 notes · View notes
busines-as-unusual · 5 months
Text
˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 6 - Haunt You, Taunt You ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Tumblr media
If your theater was your business, then your club, The Temple, was your pleasure.
You won the building in a gamble with the previous owner and had been lovingly pouring time, money, and elbow grease into it for decades. Unlike the speakeasy you ran while alive, you didn’t have to split your time between laundering money and smuggling liquor (Hell had no taxes or laws prohibiting… well anything). It allowed you to redesign the club a couple of years or so, reshaping the three-story building into a blend of the old and new. It was uniquely yours.
The many, many guests you had the honor of hosting were a mixture of demons young and old, sinners and hell-born, rich and broke. You prided yourself for having a club tamer than most establishments in Hell. Sure there was plenty of sex and drugs going on within the walls, you weren’t a wet blanket after all, but it was important your club felt like a safe place for all demons. Jet, your head of security, had his team spread throughout the club to keep an eye out for troublemakers.
The atmosphere was enhanced by the wide variety of music the club played; a blend of big band, ragtime, bebop, and the new trend they called electro-swing. Live or canned, so long as you could dance to it, it was welcomed.
You loved to dance. Once you stepped foot on American soil your feet never stopped moving. You loved the freedom in every wild, improvised move. You loved the adrenaline of a natural high. You loved the control. Control over one’s body to make it all look effortless was a skill you often practiced.
Most of all, you loved the fun it brought to every participant regardless of skill. Much like in the bedroom, the dance floor was a place where everyone was equal.
You showed the club off to your guests, pride swelling in your chest as they appreciated your baby. You took in Alastor’s face, careful not to let him catch you staring at him. His opinion mattered the most.
You set them up in a large, rounded corner booth and a responsible amount (as per Charlie’s request) of free drink vouchers.
Dragging Angel to the dance floor, you led the taller demon in a dance. He spun you around with a laugh before passing you off to an eager Charlie.
After a round of drinks they all went off in different directions: Angel and Husk to the bar. Charlie found some stray sinner to infodump about the hotel to. She chatted them up at a million words a minute with only Vaggie to keep her coherent. Niffty inquired where the cleaning supplies were and you told her to go nuts without a second thought.
Then you were all alone with dear old Alastor. The reds of his being hardly overshadowed by the club lights. He sat dead center of the curved booth with you not too close to him or the edge. You didn’t want to look like you’d flee at any moment.
You downed your second whiskey sour with a shudder. Elbow on the table and warm cheek in your hand, you beamed up at him. “Soooo Alastor, what do you think? And please be honest, I know you don’t care if you hurt my little feelings.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it dear,” he said through his pointed teeth. You struggled not to roll your eyes. “I’ll happily admit the atmosphere and music is not terrible.”
You snorted, very ladylike and refined. “I’ll have to put your glowing review on my door. ‘Not terrible’ says the Radio Demon! That’ll bring in the customers.”
“Please go right ahead and use my endorsement free of charge.”
“Gladly.” You traced the rim of your empty glass with a finger. “You ever hear how I got this place?”
“Ah yes, I remember you won it in a gamble, correct?”
“But you want to know what game we played?”
Alastor raised an eyebrow in interest and nodded. You simulated shooting yourself in the temple with your fingers. “Angelic steel bullets.”
His look of genuine surprise was not missed by you. You laughed the way you always did when you told the story.
“I’m always amazed by the desperate lengths others will go for any scrap of power,” Alastor said. “Though, not surprised.”
“Easy for you to say, Magic Man.” You sipped your drink, hiding your smile as his soured in slight annoyance. “The rest of us don’t have it so easy and have to take desperate risks.”
Alastor made a sound akin to rolling one’s eyes, sparks of radio static accompanying the noise. “Well, doll, I’m certainly glad you’re under the illusion my rise of power was effortless.”
Another laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
The tale of how Alastor the Radio Demon grew to power was well known even these days, but the finer details of his rise were shrouded in secrecy. He no doubt relished in how the uncertainty stoked fear in the hearts of sinners. However he did it, he accomplished it all single-handedly, smile never faltering. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t in awe of him.
You’d never come right out and tell him. You stroked his ego enough for tonight.
Alastor sipped his whiskey, preferring to swish it around than to drink it, as he only ordered it upon your assistance. “Tell me, Temerity. Why have you settled in the role of a mere manager?”
Frown forming, you looked at Alastor with displeasure. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean no disrespect, my dear. I’m simply expressing that with your capabilities— and I don’t say this lightly— you could easily make your way to become quite an Overlord. I can’t help but look at you and see… wasted potential.”
Should you feel insulted or flattered? The unnatural tilt of his head in confusion told you he meant it as a compliment. While beyond flattered in his casual belief in you, his dismissal of your job offended you.
“I didn’t settle for this. I chose this. I don’t want the responsibilities of a sovereign overlord with all the meetings and targets on my back.”
”Very well, but I must say it’s rather foolish to be in the position you are and not work to gain more power.”
“I find people who pursue power for power’s sake are never satisfied. The position I’m in lets me do whatever I want. I’m truly free. How many people down here can truly say the same thing?”
Alastor’s smile thin-lipped and his eyes shifted eyes from yours for a split second. You thought maybe you said something wrong or offensive to him somehow. He sipped his drink. “I suppose that line of thinking is where you and I differ.”
You shrugged and polished off your poison. You had no issue with his beliefs, but living by them didn’t align with your afterlife goals.
The two of you lapsed into silence, music filling in the space where your words once hung. You appreciated how Alastor never felt the need to fill every moment with noise. So many people stuffed every second with noise as if a moment of quiet would result in some kind of social disaster.
The song faded into the next, and this was one you loved; an upbeat, fast-paced number kicking off with a blast of saxophones. Either emboldened by the conversation or the alcohol clouding your judgment, you stood with a flourish and held your hand out to Alastor. An invitation.
“Dance with me.”
He met your question with an eyebrow raised in amusement. Crimson eyes flicked from your hand to your eyes, and you resisted the urge to look away or shrink under the heat of his eyes.
Finally, “And what of the cutlery strapped to your thigh?”
“I’ve been at this a looong time. Believe me, they’ll stay put.”
He decided to believe you. Relief swept over you like a steamroller. With a chuckle, he placed his hand in yours and it felt like victory.
Your grin spread as wide as one of Alastor’s as he dragged you to the dance floor. Alastor led you into a basic back-and-forth two-step. Eager to follow, you pranced along. He spun you in circles; dark dress fluttered around your legs.
Greed spiked in your gut. You wanted more. You pulled Alastor into a twist, effortlessly resetting the dance to your pace. Alastor adapted. Light on your feet, you two flicked your legs back and forth in tandem.
Your heart pounded in your chest. This was a dream. It had to be because there was no way in Hell Alastor was here dancing with you so well.
Alastor twirled you away before snapping you back to him, slammed flushed against his body. He locked eyes with you; smirk utterly patronizing, as if charmed by a child.
Your cheeks heated, jaw clenched in irritation. Before you could open your mouth, Alastor tugged at your waste. A warning. He swept you off your feet like you were weightless and flipped you in the air. A gasp retched from your lips. Feet back on the ground, you didn’t miss a step. The dance floor was ice under your feet.
No surprise, Alastor liked to play dirty. You hoped he didn’t mind a taste of his own medicine.
You distanced yourself from him, then tumbled forward into a practiced backflip. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders. He grabbed you by the thighs and tossed you over his head.
Instead of your feet finding solid ground, you slid. Alastor dipped you low, your back practically parallel to the floor. Instinctually, you grabbed onto his shoulders. Alastor grinned wickedly down at you, but this wasn’t like his previous look of condescension. Pupils blown wide, mouth splitting his face, he looked hungry.
There was a twist in your chest, your head, your core. Warmth washed your skin. Tension bubbled in your throat. You laughed, childish giggling wracked your body as Alastor righted you.
If people were looking at you, you didn’t notice. Alastor clouded all five of your senses. Your chest heaved as your laughter subsided and you wiped at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Somehow Alastor looked like he never broke a sweat. Unfair.
“What a marvelous performance, my dear,” Alastor said.
“Surprised?”
“Not at all.”
You swallowed thickly, the intensity of his gaze too heavy to bear any longer. A glance at the bar. “I’ll grab us some water.”
You skipped away before he could accept or decline. Wading through the sea of people, you made it to the bar, squeezing into a semi-vacant spot at the counter.
Catching sight of Husk and Angel Dust chatting at the end of the bar, you waved. Angel returned the gesture with a ruder one, Husk rolled his eyes.
You chuckled as the bartender, Collie, set two cocktails down in front of the well-dressed sinner on your left. He grabbed his drinks and turned to leave, and you saw it. One drink was an unmistakable shade of pink, almost unrecognizable under the club lights.
Your teeth ground against each other as you glared at the demon’s retreating form wading past patrons to the second story.
At least he made this a little easier for you.
“Collie, dear,” you said, pushing yourself off the counter. “Have Jet ready to handle some trouble. I'm going upstairs.”
Tumblr media
Alaster watched as you zeroed in on a sinner. You cut the tacky dresser off in the middle of the staircase, a saccharine smile foreign on you. Sweetness no doubt dripped from your voice as the demon leered at you, enticed by your words. He nodded and followed you upstairs, eyes glued to your swishing tail.
How peculiar.
He wouldn't put it past someone with your specific proclivities to get distracted by their libido, but something told him this wasn't your usual M.O. with a man.
Not with the way you eyed him with murderous intent.
Curiosity took over. Alastor dissipated his form, using the shadows to follow the two of you to the second floor past intoxicated patrons. You led the man to an empty room with a plush leather wrap-around couch with glass tables doused in blood-red lighting.
You welcomed him to inspect the room as you shut the door. “With this package you’d get drinks and food delivered to you and your guest, a TV with Voxflix, privacy. This room is perfect for more intimate gatherings.”
The sinner turned to you, appraising you like one of the decorations in the room. You slinked toward him, hand snaking up your thigh under your dress. For a moment Alastor wondered if he was wrong about his previous assessment.
Then, you were on him, knife drawn, slicing the sinner's hand clean through the wrist.
The demon howled in pain. Drinks dropped, glasses shattered on the floor, liquids mixing with the spilt blood.
The demon grabbed at his dismembered wrist. “You crazy fucking bitch!”
He lunged at you. Quick as a flash, you leapt out of the way. You sunk the blade into his shoulder and <i>twisted</i>. He dropped to his knees, grabbing at the knife with a hand no longer attached to his body.
You dug your heel into his back and wrenched the knife from his body. You wiped the bloodied blade off on his jacket before sliding back into the garter on your thigh.
“Hand it over,” you said, voice colder than Alastor ever heard it before. Chills ran up his spine, a sensation he rarely felt anymore.
“Fuck you fucking raccoon cunt!”
“Charming.” You rummaged through the inner pockets of his jacket while he sputtered profanities until you found what you were looking for. Alastor didn't recognize the heart-shaped vial of pink liquid, but it clearly filled you with disgust. “Fucking filth.”
With a sneer, you dropped the vial. Liquid spread like blood across the floor, pink miasma wafting harmlessly into the air.
A hand came to your nose and mouth as you turned away from the wounded man. From the shadows, Alastor had a front row seat to your full display of emotion.
You were distressed.
He took in your lovely expression of panic. Eyes wide and darting, as your thumb dug too hard into the fat of your cheek. You heaved a heavy, shaky sigh to calm yourself.
Much like your look of wrath, panic suited you quite nicely. Your shocked expression as he dipped you on the dance floor was swell, but nowhere near as impassioned and raw as this.
Unfortunately, there was no time to savor it. One of your brutish security guards entered the room and you slipped your mask back on. He regarded the bleeding man on the floor with disinterest. He lifted the wounded demon over one shoulder like a sack of garbage.
“Out back? Like usual?”
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Jet.”
He carted the trash away, and Alastor decided to make his presence known. He stepped out of the shadows with applause, savoring how you jumped. “Splendid show, Temerity dear! I didn't expect such a brutal display after your performance on the dance floor.”
“Alastor!” You brushed herself off, smearing blood across your dress; bright red streaks across the dark fabric. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
You weren't apologizing for the violence, of course. With his rap sheet of carnage that would be silly.
“Don't apologize on my behalf, doll.” He stepped closer, and when you didn't step away, he wiped a speck of blood off your cheek with a finger and licked it clean. He didn't expect the simple act to have panic blossom across your pretty little face again. He had to admit he liked it better this time, having been the one to cause it.
Before he could delve more into your responses, Niffty scrambled into the room, a tiny tornado. Trash bag in tow she grabbed the broken glass and the severed hand and tossed them into the bag.
“Tem, your club is filthy, filthy! I'll be back with bleach, hahah~”
As soon as the little bug entered, she left, trash dragging behind her like a body bag.
You used the interruption to slither out of Alastor's grasp to the door. “Soooo! I believe I still owe you a water.” And you all but ran from him, tail between your legs.
Fine. You could run. He'd catch you eventually.
Tumblr media
What did you do?
No, seriously, the FUCK did you do?
Why did you literally throw yourself at Alastor like some kind of horny, sexy tomato? Okay, so you were a horny sexy tomato, but you were a horny, sexy tomato who knew better than to throw itself at Alastor the goddamn Radio Demon!
You’d have been better off inviting a vampire into your home and offering up your neck for the taking. The simile did you no favors equating it to Alastor.
“I’m not drinking again.”
“Ha! If I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that. I’d have, what, eight bucks now?”
You and Rosie strolled through Cannibal Town after your morning tea. Since working with the hotel, your morning meet-ups weren’t as common, so you took the chance to vent to your friend about the night at the club. As suspected, she reacted to your ravings with one part gaiety and one part vexation.
“Rosie, I’m serious.”
“You’re too serious, hun. You just told me about this fabulous dance you shared with Alastor and somehow in your mind, it’s a bad thing.”
“Yes! Nearly a century I kept my distance and now all of a sudden he’s under my skin like some kind of…” you rolled your hand, trying to think of the right word. “Skin bug.”
“Poetic.”
You rolled your eyes. You haven’t even mentioned the stunt he pulled with the blood on your face... Were there even words to describe the sensuality of it? Maybe, but every time you revisited the moment, you were too preoccupied with the softness of his touch against your skin, how his tongue darted from his perfect lips to lap at the crimson liquid, how his eyes, still glazed with hunger, never left yours.
Rosie was talking, you realized. You stored the memory for later and zoned back in.
“I’ve always thought you two should get to know each other,” she said. “Alastor’s a great fella.”
Silence possessed you. You unlinked arms with Rosie and sat on an ivory bench made of bone. “You know the story of Tantalus? How he’s neck deep in a river with fruit above his head but no matter what, he can’t eat or drink? That’s my current situation, only in my case the fruit and water know they’re unattainable sustenance and derive joy from it.”
Rosie made a noise of dismissal, waving away your metaphor. “Oh, so melodramatic! I can see why you run a theater.”
“Ha ha.”
“Temerity.” She sat with you, taking your hands in hers. “This is a good development. Alastor has a tendency to be… standoffish, but it’s obvious he genuinely enjoys your company. You think he’d dance with anyone?”
She was right, and you knew she was right. Why couldn’t you be satisfied with that? “I know. I’m not saying I wish he’d give me a chance because I’ve met those men, killed those men, then sent those men your way—”
“—Thanks again for the late-night delivery the other day.”
“Of course, hun. I’m not in the business of pushing boundaries, but I can’t help but feel that way from time to time. I hate myself for it.”
“Sweetheart.” Your friend’s voice was gentle, full of sympathy. “You can’t help how you feel. And what you’re feeling isn’t wrong.”
You laughed, meaning for it to be light, but it caught in your throat and quickly died. “This isn’t going to end well for me, is it Rosie?”
She opened her mouth to say something comforting but paused and closed her mouth again. Rosie wouldn’t lie to you. You both knew this road would lead to heartbreak, the only variable was how humiliated you’d be in the end.
“Tem, if this is bothering you so badly, then you should go ahead and tell Alastor how you feel. Get it all out of the open so you can move on.”
”No!” You cleared your throat. “I mean… I can’t, I…”
You were fucking terrified.
Rosie would never shame you, you knew this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It felt foolish to admit it out loud. On earth and in Hell, you’ve been beaten, bloodied, and bruised. You’ve had a knife to your throat or the barrel of a gun to your head more times than you like to admit, yet the idea of confession and rejection terrified you more.
You liked to think, it made perfect sense. In your experience, pain was fleeting, much of it mercifully unremarkable or a distant memory. But the pain of rejection, well…
You’ve dealt with that since the day you were born.
Your one scar that never fully healed.
Despite never vocalizing your fears, Rosie understood you. “I know it seems daunting, but I think Alastor may surprise you.”
“Right, because Alastor extended such grace to Vox.”
No one knew the truth about Alastor and Vox. Most took their rivalry at face value, but older demons remember the rumors; the Radio Demon forming an alliance with the up-and-coming Overlord, the alleged relationship in stark contrast to their current mutual antagonism.
Conversely, you always suspected Rosie knew more than she ever let on. Your friend, usually so fond of gossiping, kept her lips buttoned on the subject over the years. She claimed it was improper to talk about such manners behind a friend's back, and while you weren’t convinced you never pressed.
Rosie sucked pointed teeth in exasperation. “Come now! Your relationship with Alastor is not comparable— don’t give me that look, you know what I mean. Hold out for a little while longer. I’m sure this’ll all blow over soon.”
You hoped she was right
Tumblr media
You once again found yourself at the hotel bar, laughing at something Angel said as Husk poured you two a drink. Angel held his Fat Nuggets, the cutest little pig in his second set of arms.
“And you seriously don’t know what kind of pig he is?” you asked, flabbergasted.
Angel shrugged. “I dunno. He’s… a pig.”
“He’s a Hell Hog!”
“A little redundant, ain't it?”
“No, well yes, but… never mind.” You pet the porker on his pink little head. “How’d you get your hands on this lil cutie, anyway?”
“Nuggs was… a gift. From my boss.” Angel set the piglet on the bar counter. “Speaking of which, I need to tell you something.”
Husk grimaced, like “oh shit, here we go,” and scooted a shot over to the spider.
Angel tossed it back before fixing his eyes on a stain on the counter. “I… I’m not going to audition for the show. I wanted to tell you now so you ain’t surprised when I don’t show up later..”
Tem frowned, concerned, resting a hand on his. “Oh Angel, hun, why? You’d be dynamite!”
“Oh, honey. I know I'm dynamite,” he said with peak confidence. “I just don't think I'm the one you're looking for for all this inspirational razzmatazz.”
“Bullshit,” Husk spat. “It’s fucking Valentino.”
Angel deflated. “Shit! Yeah, Val, he… he thinks it’ll take up too much of my time away from the studio and it would ‘ruin my branding’ or somethin’.”
Husk muttered something about Valentino being full of shit, to which Angel happily concurred. You clenched your hands under the bar, nails biting into the flesh of your palm.
“Oh, what horseshit!” You scoffed. “People like Valentino will make up any excuse to have a <i>crumb</i> of control. It’s pathetic. Tell me Angel, truthfully, do you want to do the show? Forget what Valentino says.”
“I mean yeah, I do, but—”
“But nothing. If you want to then you will. Leave it to me, hun.”
Husk raised a half-interested brow while Angel looked ill. “Look, I appreciate the offer but you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re planning to do. My boss, Val, he's–”
“A shitstain sandwich?”
Husk nodded with a small smile as he poured a glass of water for Fat Nuggets. “Exactly.”
You hopped off the stool, all smiles and bravado. “Angel, dear, just bring your spunky little butt to auditions and do your best. I promise that’s all you have to worry about. And maybe one day, this sweet little guy will bite Valentino’s stupid bald head off for you.” You stroked Fat Nuggets back as he sipped his water. “You will, won’t you? Yes, you will, good boy!”
Angel hugged both sets of arms to him, apprehensive. You smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder (with effort, he’s tall!) reassuring your friend you’d handle it. You held your smile as you walked out the door of the hotel, unaware of the shadow behind you. By the time you made it to your car, your smile disappeared.
“Shit!” you leaned against your car and pulled out a cigarette. Another “shit” escaped your lips when you realized you had no lighter. You placed the unlit cig in your mouth, foot tapping anxiously.
How in Hell were you going to get Angel out of his scenario? You had no pull when it came to the Vees, and no hope in getting their attention, at least not anytime soon.
You weren’t one to get involved in others’ affairs. Sure you’d gladly help out your friends and lend a hand when they needed one, but going against the will of an Overlord was above your wheelhouse. Those situations tended to land one in ripe hot shit. Needless to say, you preferred to avoid ripe hot shit.
But you felt for Angel. You weren’t lying when you said he had talent, and vermin Valentino squandered it. The moth demon reminded you all too much of Roman. They were both bastards who took advantage of the scared, weak, and vulnerable, all but stole their souls, and got off to abuse. You couldn’t break Angel’s contract, but you couldn’t stand by and let Valentino take this from him.
“Something troubling you, my dear?”
You inhaled your cigarette, gagging on the cylinder until you uncouthly hacked it out.
“Alastor!” You wiped your mouth, not noticing the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “No, no. I'm fine, I’m… thinking.”
“About how you're going to get in touch with the Vees, hmm?”
You fixed him with a look. “Should I be surprised? Eavesdrop more, please.”
He snapped his fingers, and a new cigarette appeared in your mouth. Small green flames danced along his fingertips but he made no move to light your cig for you. You leaned forward, pulling back once your cigarette kindled.
Eyes closing, you took a slow drag of the cancer stick and exhaled, acrid smoke wafting through the air. “Thanks.”
“Of course, dear, but back to your accusation. Overhearing a loud conversation in a public space is hardly eavesdropping.”
“I hear they call it voyeurism nowadays.”
Smiling tight, he hummed in lieu of false laughter. “I’m afraid you’re running a fool's errand, doll. Someone like you who’s not much of an Overlord to begin with has no hope in Hell of waltzing into the Vees tower and getting a meeting. You wouldn’t even show up on their radar.”
He pinched your cheek, condescension dripping from his teeth, as if to say “wasn’t I right?”
You pushed him away. “Oh, piss off, Alastor. You think I’m stupid? Don’t answer.”
“My dear I don’t think you’re stupid, merely woefully unprepared. But I have an idea.~” He wrapped an arm around you, nails digging into the meat of your shoulder. “A surefire way to get you in touch with Vox himself.”
Any other time you’d be overjoyed at his touch, but he had to go and be aggravating. You crossed your arms. “Which is?”
“Come now, dear. You can’t expect me to offer my services with nothing in return. Especially since you were so rude.”
“I doubt I could ever hurt your feelings, or that you’d want anything from me.”
He laughed, and her stomach churned. “That’s where you’re wrong, doll. I want to make a deal with you.”
You flicked the cigarette and stubbed it out. “Forget it. I’m not giving you my soul.”
Alastor’s eyes twitched as if the suggestion annoyed him. “Who said anything about souls? I promise to get you an immediate audience with Vox and in turn, you answer three little questions for me where you have to be fully honest.”
You pulled away from him. “What quest—”
“Ah-ah-ah!” He placed a finger over your lips. “What makes this deal worth it is the uncertainty. I can’t have you prepping lies in a desperate attempt to save face.”
Fuck.
Did he know?
He couldn’t know—
Alastor stared down at you like a predator who’d finally caught its meal. It scared you, and excited you?
No, no, no! You can examine those feelings later!
You took another step back, inwardly groaning as soon as the heat of his touch left your skin. There was a subtle tremor of his shoulders, eyes crinkling. He was holding back laughter.
“What’ll it be, my dear?”
What choice did you have?
Tumblr media
This burn is going slower than I originally planned, lol. Hope you aren’t getting bored.
Also, if you want to send Tem or the other HH/HB characters that show up in the story an ask, go ahead and I’ll answer with a sketch.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
♥︎Taglist♥︎
@forbidding-souda
@mo-0-o
@joumi13
@the--rebel--fae
@babesway22
@maychay
44 notes · View notes
ninjaturtlemaniac · 25 days
Text
John Dory and Sable ❤️
“Is this a date?”
Sable blinked at him and put her glass down before she could take a sip.
“Pardon me?”
No turning back now.
“Are we on a date right now?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“I ughhh…”
Do I…?
“What would you do differently? If I was on a date with THE John Dory?”
John thought for a moment. 
What do I do on dates? I haven't dated since… Wait, were those even dates?
“Well...” he tried to appear more confident. “For starters I'd take you somewhere a lot less ughh…”
“Snooty?”
“I was gonna say ‘crowded’ but yeah snooty works.”
“Perhaps I did overdo it. I only bring people here when I want to impress them. Which is silly I guess. I don't feel like I have to impress you.”
“Gee, thanks.” JD deadpanned.
“Wow! I worded that terribly, didn't I?” Sable snort-laughed at herself. “What I meant was… you…know me, so I don't have to be…fake… in front of you.”
“You can't be Sable for other people?”
“Not often. Part of being a public figure.”
“I can understand that I guess.”
Sable noticed the clothes John Dory was wearing. They were far different from his usual getup. Even at the Met Gala, his fancy dinner outfit was still very ‘John Dory’ inspired.
What he was wearing tonight, he wasn't being John Dory.
He was trying to be someone else for her.
She couldn't do that to him.
Before she knew it she had dropped her napkin onto the table.
She stood up and offered him her hand.
“Let's go somewhere less snooty.”
“What about dinner?”
She grabbed the bread basket.
“Done!”
JD smiled wide and took her hand.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Your beverage Ms. Sable” he said in a silly snobby voice as he offered her a can of soda.
“Why thank you, good Sir.”
“Sorry I didn't have a better place to bring you to.”
After some brainstorming, John Dory decided to take her to his workplace; the Pop Village stables. It was definitely quieter and less crowded, the occupants also didn't stare and judge you.
They made a pitstop on the way and grabbed junk food. Sable was having a great time but John was suddenly feeling just that little bit insecure about not having anything prepared in advance.
He was also suddenly very aware of the smell of the smell that the stables had. 
“Are you kidding? I love coming here. This place is so…serene.”
Sable laid back on the hay and sighed contently as she shut her eyes.
John Dory happened to glance up from his food at that moment after taking a bite from the basket of restaurant bread.
Was the lighting from the moon somehow making her glow? Or was that just his brain?
Beautiful.
What?
John Dory suddenly stood up in a panic hoping that a distraction would chase away that random thought.
“I got something to show you!” he yelled as she scampered off.
Sable stood up confusedly and followed.
John led her to one of the more enclosed stables.
The only light source was a set of large heat lamps set up over a large container.
Sable hesitated but she looked inside curiously.
Inside were what appeared to be some oddly shaped eggs.
“Those are some unique looking critter eggs. What are they? Buzzer bugs? Golden Beetrievers?”
JD leaned on the edge of the container and smirked.
“Shadow Spiders”
Sable took a huge step back with widened eyes.
“Shadow Spiders?!”
“Yup!” 
“As in, those creepy big spiders that have a habit of eating Trolls?”
John Dory just laughed.
“Yup they're the ones!”
“What the…? How are you still alive?!”
“Pfftt I've gone up against way worse than Shadow Spiders before! But these little guys we found all alone.”
“Aw. Poor little…ugh… things”
“We think the mother got eaten by something bigger.”
“Oh joy. Larger predators. What do you want them for?”
“Sooooo, Shadow Spiders stay out of each other's territory. We're thinking if we raise these little guys here then hopefully they'll make this their territory and-”
“-the wild ones won't come near Pop Village!”
“Exactly!”
“That is genius!”
“Thank you, thank you!” he bowed and blew kisses to an imaginary crowd.
“It was your idea?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. I have great ideas.”
“Well, I'm impressed.”
JD's face flushed red.
Sable softly stroked one of the eggs. She exaggerated a shiver from being creeped out.
“You plan on rearing them yourself?”
“No better Troll for the job! …Literally! Would you believe no one else volunteered? 
“Now why wouldn't Trolls line up to bottle feed bloody thirsty Shadow Spiders?!”
“Right?! Not sure how they'll respond to their new Mama being a Troll but hey it'll be fun!”
“I'm sure they'll love their new Mama.”
They both laughed at the absurdity of it.
John Dory introduced Sable to all the critters living at the stables. She had so many questions which JD was happy to answer.
The more Sable engaged with him, the more his insecurities were silenced.
JD was actually having a great time.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When it started to get late, JD offered to walk her back to her pod.
The walk back was filled with chatter about their shared interest in critters.
“You know what? This might sound like a silly idea but…I actually have a trained Saddleback Spider. She's mothered quite a few hatchlings. If you needed a docile, mother spider present. So they can learn ‘spider behaviors’. I’d be happy to lend her to you.”
“That’d be perfect! I'll take you up on that!”
Sable pulled up her shawl to cover her shoulders more.
“So what is the verdict, John Dory? Was this a date?”
“I'm not sure yet. Still deciding.”
“I really appreciate you letting me make it up to you and you know what? I ended up having a lot of fun.”
“What? Did you think you wouldn't have fun?”
“I expected that I would ruin the night somehow.”
“Don’t sweat it! You did great!” He gave her two thumbs up.
Sable snort-laughed “I appreciate the feedback.”
They stopped outside Sable's pod in silence for a moment before Sable stuck out her hand.
“Thank you for walking me home.”
John hesitated but then he took her hand.
Sable tried to shake his hand, but he brought her hand to his lips.
He looked into her eyes as he gave her a small peck on her hand.
*Ding*
“Oh! Hug time?” Sable offered.
“You don't have to…”
“Come here.”
Sable pulled him in for a firm hug.
John was taken aback slightly but then hugged her back.
She smells nice.
Don't be weird.
Sable pulled back slightly and fluttered her eyes as she realized how close their faces were.
John noticed too.
Kiss her!
John pulled away from the hug abruptly and chuckled awkwardly.
He gave her a friendly punch on her shoulder.
“Goodnight, Sable”
“Goodnight, John Dory”
He watched the pod door close behind Sable as she entered her pod. 
He turned to head home but…
He hesitated.
He turned back to the door and raised his hand to knock.
But he didn't.
With a sigh he descended the stairs and started his walk home.
John Dory didn't go straight home to Rhonda. He walked around the village for a while to clear his head.
One thing wouldn't leave his head though.
Sable
She made him feel sick but in a good way?
She was definitely different from how she used to be.
She'd grown into a very attractive Troll.
What?
Okay, okay so I’m admitting that she's attractive. Any Troll with eyes and half a brain can see that! So what?
Does it mean I'm attracted to her?
Sure! I can be attracted to her if I want. Nothing wrong with that.
Doesn't mean I have to do anything about it.
Right?
I can be attracted to someone and not make a big deal about it! It's not like I have to see her again or anything?!
Do I want to see her again?
Yes I do.
That last thought hit him hard. 
He wanted to see Sable again.
Oh… Muses
I think I'm in
Trouble!
 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
*Splash*
What the fuck?
A sudden cold splash of water to the face brought JD out of his sleep.
He found Clay, Bruce and Floyd standing over him.
Death glaring.
“What the? What's the big id…?!”
“SABLE!?!?!?!” they yelled together.
The collective yell caused John Dory to fall out of his loft bed.
He rubbed his head and opened his eyes to a very excited Poppy and Viva, both holding copies of the same magazine.
Oh.
“How come you didn't tell us your date was with SABLE?!” Poppy squealed.
John Dory took one of the magazine copies and held it up to look.
He knew this was gonna happen.
One photo of the two of them at the restaurant, one outside the stables and one outside her pod. And of course, the photos were angled to look a lot more ‘intimate’ than they actually were.
“All the crap you used to give us about not being allowed to date a Sugar Gal!” said Bruce.
“But nooooo, of course John Dory is allowed!” said Clay.
“You threatened to ground us if we ever so much as looked in their direction!” said Bruce.
“The photo of my kiss with Summer? Two months of school then straight home! Yes, I did get a lot of studying done but that's not the point, it's the principle!” said Clay.
“You're right” John tried quietly.
Clay and Bruce suddenly stopped.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Clay was confused.
“You're right. It wasn't fair that I tried to control who you could date.”
He grabbed a towel and dried the water from his hair.
The other Trolls present looked at each other for answers.
Was he like, sick or something?
He didn't take his eyes off the magazine as he dropped the towel and sat down on the couch.
“Sometimes you can't help who you're attracted to.” he said softly.
He smiled at the photo of him and Sable at hug time. He traced a finger over their picture.
Bruce squatted down in front of John and looked up at John's face.
JD darted his eyes around, trying not to look Bruce in the eye.
“Oh Muses, he's in love!” Bruce stated loudly!
They all gasped. The girls squealed.
“Oh my gosh this is so amazing! Have you told her?!”
“What? No no no no no I'm not in love!”
“This is the same dinner that had you panicking cause you weren't sure if it was a date or not?” Clay frowned.
“Well, yeah? But it wasn't! Sable and I... We went to dinner because we made a truce.”
“Looks like a little bit more than dinner, John.” Floyd smiled slyly as he pointed to the barn photo.
“It's not like that!” JD blushed.
Bruce sighed “Okay, you had your truce dinner. Are you gonna see her again?”
JD avoided eye contact.
“John Dory?”
“I mean…”
Floyd sat down with John and held one of his hands “John, ignore them. Be honest with me. Do you actually like her?
“...Yeah”
“Do you enjoy her company?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Do you want to see her again?”
“Yeah” he sighed.
“What's stopping you?”
“She's so…smart and sophisticated and I'm well…me”
Bruce patted his shoulder “It isn't about your pedigree or how many fancy diplomas you have on your wall. It's about the thought and effort you give to each other.”
“You really think I could do it? I don't even know where to start!”
“Amazinnias!” Viva interrupted.
Everyone looked at her.
“Sables’s favorite flowers. The magazines said so!”
“Chances are that the magazine is very wrong but it's a start!” Floyd said encouragingly.
Floyd and Bruce looked at Clay, silently telling him to try and be encouraging as well.
Clay groaned dramatically then sighed “The chocolatier in town, they keep records of people's choices. You could get Sable's favorites to go with the Amazinnias.”
Poppy jumped excitedly “There we go! You have a plan, JD!”
Floyd “And if you get worried about anything, please talk to us!”
“Go get your girl!” Bruce bumped his shoulder.
John stood up from the couch with determination on his face. He grabbed his goggles and started for the door.
Bruce suddenly grabbed his shoulder “Jonathan Dorian! For the love of all that is Trolly, put pants on first!”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
A muffled voice sounded from outside her door “Sable, you have a visitor”
“Send them in.” She tied a bow on her robe as the door opened.
John Dory entered with a sheepish smile, holding a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers.
Sable snort-laughed “Hey! Do you actually watch my performances or do you just wait till they're over to-”
“Last night wasn't a date” He interrupted. He had to say it before his nerves took over.
Sable frowned.
“Okay, you came all the way here to tell me that last night wasn't a date?
“No no no. I came all the way here with chocolates and flowers to tell you last night wasn't a date.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“You are such an odd Troll, John Dory.” Sable turned back to her mirror to remove her stage makeup. 
She eyed his nervous expression in the reflection.
“Last night can't have been a date because, if it was, then that would mean I wouldn't get to make a fool of myself and ask you out on a real one.”
Sable suddenly stopped and turned back to face him. 
JD cleared his throat.
“Sable, do you think you'd wanna go… you know… do an actual date with me?”
Sable stood up slowly and didn't take her eyes away from his.
She softly held the sides of his face, and pulled him down into a soft kiss.
John's eyes shot open and he gasped against her lips. After a moment he completely melted and his eyes slowly closed.
Flowers and chocolates dropped to the floor as his hands hesitantly landed on her hips.
He pulled her closer so they were chest to chest.
Her hands found their way to the back of his head and she softly stroked his hair.
Sable finally pulled back and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.
She giggled at the goofy lovestruck smile on his face.
John shook the clouds from his head.
“Soooo….Is that a ‘yes’?”
Sable snort-laughed. “Yes, John Dory”
“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air in triumph.
“The last three nights have involved a lot of screaming, attack armadillos, mud and spider eggs. You've set the bar pretty high for yourself. How're you gonna top that?”
“Baby, you haven't seen nothin yet!”
“Baby?” Sable laughed.
“Don't like that? I have others! Toots? Sugar? Sweet Cakes? Princess?”
“What have I gotten myself into?”
“No, I ruined your gifts! I'm sorry!” He dropped down to his knees to pick up the scattered flowers and chocolates.
“It's okay John.”
“No, the chocolates are squished and the flowers are falling apart now…”
Sable gave him a comforting smile.
“Off to a great start aren't I?” he sighed sadly.
“Look, John. The chocolates are still edible and look, I can make potpourri with the petals.”
“Popper what?”
“I'll show you sometime…Stud Muffin.”
That was hot.
Oh John Dory was definitely in… trouble.
And he didn't mind one bit.
21 notes · View notes
wlwaerith · 2 years
Note
wheres the essay u coward
Tumblr media
@veshialles @margaritalaux-antille since u both asked as well :3c
so, a big part of why the mage origin will always be my favourite is because of how creepy kinloch hold is, and the fact that it’s the only opportunity you get (excluding witch hunt) to explore the lowest recesses of the tower, which is imo the creepiest part of it.
i think a big part of this creepy factor is the way that the tower is kind of deceptive. on the surface level, yeah, it’s bad — there are no windows until you get to the very top, it’s quite cramped, you get this feeling of being packed in like cattle — but that’s not really the worst of it. you have a huge library spanning two floors! you are surrounded by people who seem friendly! (mages. this refers to mages.)
but then you look a little closer and see the piles of dirt in the corner, the squalor the mages live in (because the dorms that the apprentices in particular stay in are disgusting). the way that the harrowed enchanters’ quarters do not afford you any privacy. you have ,, maybe a wall to separate yourself from the open door (iirc some rooms where mages sleep don’t even have doors) and your roommates. it’s this absence of privacy, or perhaps denial is a better word, that makes you start to realise that oh. okay. these people aren’t treated or even seen as people, are they.
then this factors in with the location of the tower. the conditions are bad. you have essentially the magic police leering over you at all times. you aren’t allowed outside unless you have unique privileges and exceptions (fresh air is a privilege. a privilege.) and the only windows are so high up that to attempt to climb or jump from them is suicide. and then there is the fact that you’re on the middle of the lake and the only way back is a boat (which is always on the other side. you are not taught how to swim), and the boat is guarded by a templar — the ones who are always looking for an excuse to put you down like the animals they think you are. and it dawns on you how utterly cut off and isolated you are. and that’s still not the worst of it.
enter the lower levels, specifically the roundabout back way you have to take to get to the repository. there are discarded garments rotting away in cells and i’m pretty sure one cell has a bloodstain on the floor or the wall, if memory serves. there are sectioned-off rooms full of deepstalkers that look alarmingly like makeshift laboratories. which makes you wonder what the hell they’re getting up to down there. this is where your eyes get ripped open if you weren’t already freaked out and you realise that there is something very, very wrong with the tower.
then there’s the matter of the veil, which is so thin that it’s easily ripped open, subjecting the mages within to these horrific transformations. it makes you wonder if it was deliberate, if it was set up this way in the hopes that the veil would be torn so there would be an excuse to kill all the mages. greagoir, for one, seemed all too keen to put them down during the broken circle quest. this is kind of partnered with the way that less skilled mages seem to be manipulated from the sidelines (i.e. jowan) into resorting to blood magic so that they can be removed rather than trained. one less mage, as it were.
on the surface, it seems a little ick at worst, and generally not at all terrible given that irving seems to care about amell/surana at least. but then you take all of this into consideration and you realise it’s very dog-eat-dog, because when you grow accustomed to existing in a space where your so-called “protectors” are also your jailers who are always waiting for an opportunity to get rid of you, what creeping dread you may have felt beforehand begins to morph into horror.
345 notes · View notes
bestworstcase · 6 months
Note
I have a question about some of your Salem thoughts
If Salem is 110% certain that she can take down the Gods (assuming that's her goal since we don't actually know), why wouldn't she communicate her plan to Oz? Especially if she truly doesn't want anyone to die like you say. Oz would jump at the bit if Salem said "Hey I want to stop fighting" since that would mean their shadow war would stop. I really don't think Oz likes the Gods either, and even if he's afraid of them, if *Salem* is that confident she can stop them (she's far from an idiot), I'm sure he'd at least hear her out (which would tell Salem a LOT).
If she's that confident and truly doesn't want to fight, why wouldn't she tell Oz her new plan? And why would she kickstart her plan by attacking the kingdoms/Academies? Surely she could find a way to steal the Relics without flat out attacking them (like sending in double agents to take the Maiden powers)? Like... she would've known she'd get people killed, including children and innocent people. Even if she did damage control (which I think is just strategic, why bother going after people if she's focusing on the Relics? She's not gonna waste precious time and resources), she surely knew people would get caught in the crossfire.
Don't get me wrong, I like what you bring to the table!! Your posts are thought provoking and unique. But I can't see Salem being somehow secretly good. I don't think the show is setting her up that way, and I think she's a fantastic villain, so from my own perspective, doing that kind of twist would be a disservice to her character. I don't think she's inhuman or a complete and total monster who should go, but she's definitely not a good person especially if she can't communicate that she supposedly doesn't want people dead. She seems to be an "the ends justify the means" kind of person, and the show I think has stated that that isn't a good mindset i.e. Ironwood.
Sorry, I rambled and completely strayed from my point 😅 I don't mean to be mean if I come across that way. I hope my ask is interesting or thought provoking though :P
my position is that salem is right, not that she’s secretly good—that is an important distinction. i think she sees the gods clearly for what they are, thinks the divine ultimatum repulsive and unjust, wants remnant to be free, and believes that humanity is transcendent over their creators; she also, quite plainly, does not have any compunction about doing whatever it takes to achieve her ends and while i do think she is still fully capable of and driven by love, she is so TERRIFIED of being hurt again and so CERTAIN that no one could ever care for her that when she does care for someone else it comes out in very, very twisted and often cruel ways. she’s not good, she’s not nice, she’s just right.
equally the heroes are good but not right, because they have yet to really grapple with the premise of the divine mandate (that humanity as it exists right now does not deserve to exist) or their own role in upholding it (their immediate goal is survival, but when they envision the ending of this war they imagine salem driven back and the relics squirreled away again in hope of at best everlasting stalemate). the point of structuring the narrative this way is that neither side can get to the proverbial good ending alone; they need to work together, salem’s ends with the heroes’ means.
like. she’s evil. lol. that’s not in question and i think it goes without saying that she is doing evil things so i don’t feel the need to make a “but she’s still evil though” disclaimer every time i try to tease out what’s going on in her head. notice how my reaction to salem razing vale was OH GLINDA LAYS SIEGE TO THE EMERALD CITY, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW and not, like, shock or dismay that salem would do such a terrible thing. brgdfjs
(i DO think she has mostly been trying to avoid ozma and not reciprocating the shadow crusade against her prior to about fourteen years ago and that she isn’t about wanton destruction or killing for the sake of it; and in that sense i think she’s not as bad as the general fanon reading. but that comes with the territory of thinking she has actual reasons for doing what she does as opposed to being, like, a genocidal lunatic.)
anyway. to your questions. the short answer is she’s just as scared of oz as he is of her.
“but he’s the good one!”—think about this from her perspective for a minute. set aside your opinion of her and oz, presuppose for the moment that i’m correct on her motivations, and consider what everything ozma’s done in the last few thousand years looks like to her.
she knows that the gods were monsters. she witnessed them slaughtering the whole world and she saw how little it mattered to them after. she was alone for millions of years, and then hated and feared for thousands of years because she didn’t look human. all that suffering because the gods are punishing her for praying to them. yes?
then ozma returns to her, somehow. he doesn’t explain how or why—maybe he tells her he just doesn’t know—but that’s alright. what matters is that he’s here. he asks what happened to her, and she tells him the truth: the gods ended the world. cursed her. killed everyone. she was alone for so long. (maybe not the whole truth: there are things she’s afraid to say, because the gods did it all to punish her, and it’s her fault, and she’s so scared that he’d despise her if he knew everything. the only reason for her to fear ozma would reject her is if she blamed herself. you don’t hide things out of shame if you don’t feel ashamed of them.)
they learn each other again. fall in love all over again. things are finally okay. they fix up her house. they’re happy together. one day ozma tells her that he’s worried about how divided people are. she wants so badly to make him happy; she would move mountains for him. salem herself has no interest in ruling over people as a god—if she did, she wouldn’t have been living alone in a rotting shack in the middle of nowhere—all that enthusiasm is for him. to support what he wants.
they build a following, found a prosperous kingdom, start a family. four children! how long do you think they were married—ten years? twenty? and the whole time, the whole time, ozma was keeping these secrets from her. that the god of light, who’d condemned her to eternal suffering for praying to his brother, who’d shown utter indifference to the deaths of millions, had sent him back to redeem humanity FROM HER SINS, from what SALEM did. that the point of all this is cleansing humankind of her defiance and inviting THAT MONSTER to remnant to judge whether this world deserved to be subjugated under the brothers’ tyranny again or else be put to death.
imagine how she must have felt when ozma finally told her the truth, knowing that the first thing she told him was that the gods ended the last one. imagine the sickening realization that their whole marriage is built on a lie, because she would never, ever, ever have agreed to help him unite the world if she had known what he sought to unite them for, and ozma knew she never would. that he deceived her! manipulated her into serving the will of a god she knows to be a monster!
and even then—even to the very end—she loved him enough to try. she was willing to forgive all of that and figure out a way to move past it together, and the only thing she asked was that he walk away from his task of submitting this world to the judgment of THAT MONSTER. and he wouldn’t do it.
there’s a gap we don’t get to see, in between ozma backing away from her and salem catching him leaving with the girls, but we can infer that ozma walked out of that room and salem didn’t. imagine how she felt. ten years, twenty years, however long it was, and he was lying to her through it all, and he left her with hardly a moment’s hesitation when she refused to help him enact THAT MONSTER’S retribution against herself. because that is, ultimately, what this is all about; humanity is found guilty by association with her.
imagine how she felt. used. worthless. duped. like a fool for ever trusting him. did he ever love her at all, or was that a lie, too?
when she caught him in the hallway later that night, they both attack each other in the same instant. ozma remembers her attacking him first, but their volleys meet in perfect symmetry and right before salem throws her first bolt of magic, her eyes flicker down in surprise as she tracks the motion of his staff (which we see in the previous shot)—salem remembers him attacking her first.
because they were both so tense and scared and angry at each other that they snapped in exactly the same moment.
their battle is so intense they blow up the castle, and when the smoke clears, salem is a pile of ash. ash! he incinerated her! imagine how enraged you have to be to burn someone to ash. that level of fury, of absolute hatred of her, is literally burnt into her memory as the last thing he did to her before she managed to kill him, inextricably twisted around the guilt and unbearable grief she feels for her children.
he’s dedicated all but a handful of his lives since then to getting rid of her. finding a way to destroy her. (how far is he willing to go? what would happen if salem tried to move on, find community and solace somewhere far away from him? would he come after her? would he follow his god’s example and go after the people she cared about to punish her? is she willing to risk that he might?)
do you think salem understands why ozma did any of this? she doesn’t. she doesn’t get the luxury we do of jinn narrating his side of the story and showing us the anguish he felt, wanting so desperately to be with salem but eaten alive by terror of dooming the world for his happiness. she doesn’t know.
all she knows is how he treated her: the secrets, the deception, the manipulation, the immediate and absolute rejection when she told him no, the explosively violent anger at the end, then centuries upon centuries systematically erasing her from history and enforcing her exile whilst searching for the relics he needs to summon his god for the final judgment. which she knows will inevitably end in the annihilation of the whole world and yet more torture for her with no hope of reprieve, because if all of this was not enough to satisfy the god of light’s grudge against her for, again, just praying to his brother, nothing ever will.
salem feels about ozma now the way blake felt about adam. why did he lie to her, why did he use her, why does he keep coming back, why won’t he just LEAVE HER ALONE, hasn’t she suffered enough, hasn’t she been punished enough, when will it be enough—and intertwined with that, she is being EATEN ALIVE by the conviction that no one could ever truly care about her or feel for her or want to help her or think that she deserves help or even just see her as a person, because if ozma—ozma, the one who saved her from her father’s tower, who knew her and loved her before all of this happened—if ozma thought her so worthless that he would rather serve a god who ended the last world and promises to condemn this one too than suffer her to exist at all in this world, why the fuck would anyone else be any different?
thousands of years later, she still flies off the handle when anyone lies to her. (except cinder. but cinder is always the exception, to every rule.) there’s a reason she recruits the kind of people she does—desperate, broken, angry people starving for something she can promise to give them if they make themselves useful to her—and it’s because she does not believe that she can get anything better than strictly transactional relationships with people who have literally nothing and nowhere else to turn. and when she actually cares about someone? she fights herself tooth and claw over it because she desperately doesn’t want to open herself up to more heartbreak. look at how erratic and cruel she is with cinder.
it’s not rational. salem is smart and very, very tactically shrewd but she is making all of her plans and all of her choices from the assumption that she is and will always be alone in this, because she is unlovable, because she is worthless, because she is the reason this world is damned. and she’s terrified of ozma because to her everything he does suggests that his conviction and dedication to the god of light has never wavered. she cannot see his doubt. she cannot see his misery. she cannot see how much he misses her and desperately wants to make amends. all she can see is that he’s zealously guarding the relics and spreading his god’s word and training children to fight and die in the name of keeping her exiled.
why doesn’t ozma just go to her and tell her he wants to make amends? because he’s terrified she’ll never forgive him and terrified that he’ll damn the world to annihilation if he follows his heart. they’re the same. they’re exactly the same.
but this is also what makes it so possible—even easy—for salem to undergo a villain-to-hero arc, because the only thing that needs to happen is a spark of real hope. that someone, anyone, could really care about her. like. the things she says in her soliloquies about the transformative power of hope? “even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change,” and “it’s true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary…”—that’s her. one small reason to hope. that is all she needs to change.
she doesn’t want to be razing kingdoms to the ground or cutting a bloody path through children to get those relics. she is willing to do it because she truly, genuinely, from the depths of her soul believes that it’s the only way to free herself from the torture she’s been subjected to for millions of years. she’s driven to this by desperation. she won’t keep doing it if she’s given a reason to feel less desperate.
but she does need to be given a reason, first. she’s hemorrhaging. this is why the winnowing of her inner circle and the split between everyone else in vacuo versus salem + cinder + summer in vale is important; Those Two are the ones she cares about—technically we don’t know for sure regarding summer yet, but the level of trust she has for the lieutenant holding beacon is suggestive—and that being reciprocated is what ignites her hope.
39 notes · View notes
mychlapci · 15 hours
Note
Episode Two - Darkness Rising, Part 2
Okay so Starscream establishes that the Decepticons have access to multiple energon mines, with the one shown at the beginning of the episode holding the most energon. He also calls one of the vehicons, drone, which implies that they’re not sentient beings. This would make sense since they’re canon fodder and mostly serve to flesh out the actual army that the Decepticons have since making a ton of unique character models would be expensive as fuck. 
However, we see in later episodes that the vehicons can speak, a feature I find odd if they’re just meant to be mindless drones following order. This brings up a whole bunch of horrifying implications since the Autobots regularly rip vehicons to pieces in battle. 
I’m gonna be 100% honest, I hate the dark energon plotline. Not only because it completely undermines Megatron as a leader and makes him look like a fucking idiot for just shoving it directly into his spark chamber, but also just because TFP is going to have soooo many plotlines down the road and out of all of them, dark energon will just continue to stick out like a sore thumb. 
I do appreciate that Ratchet is just a hater. Like he just wants to leave and 100% respect him. So far he’s the only character to have actually funny lines. 
God I forgot how ugly Fowler’s model is. Like the other humans look okay, but they did him dirty. 
“BULKHEAD I NEEDED THAT!” 
Optimus for the love of god put your mask back on. Please man you actually look hot that way.
“Pretty big bearings, for a human.” What did he mean by this? Bulkhead what did you mean by that?
Starscream will continue to be the only right person in this show. Like it will literally be Megatron’s fault that they loose their biggest energon mine because he decided to reactivate Cliffjumper’s corpse in the middle of it. And then, when things start going south, he’ll just order Starscream to blow up the entirety of the mine instead of trying to save it. Like TFP Megatron is a terrible fucking leader and from what we’re told, Starscream was actually doing a pretty damn good job of collecting energon considering in the three years that Megatron was gone, no one even once noticed the cons and their mining operations. 
Basically TFP Megatron is a terrible leader and IMO the show would’ve been 10000% more interesting if they actually let Starscream be a competent individual instead of just turning him into Megatron’s chew toy. 
Grrrr. Listen Miko, girl, I think you’re fine and all but good lord read the goddamn room. Every single one of the robots are talking about their friend, who has been presumed dead and you’re asking about the fight? I don’t think I would actually mind this behaviour if Miko actually had other things going on with her character. Like we hear about her host family a lot but not once do we actually see them. Perhaps her extreme thrill seeking behaviour is a result of being shipped off to nowhere Nevada by her family back home, or maybe her host family ignores her and she resorts to getting into danger as a method of acting out. 
Still sticking with my opinion that TFP Optimus is built like an uppercase T. He’s gonna fucking fall over he’s so top heavy. 
God the size shifting in this show is insane. Like Arcee is like 3x the size of her actual altmode. 
I really wish Jack wouldn’t compare his fucking girl problems to Arcee’s partner literally dying. Those two things are not even remotely comparable in terms of emotional damage. Also it just makes him sound really fucking childish and petty that she has the audacity to be angry and annoyed about being forced to babysit some human teenager. Maybe they could’ve had Jack say “I know what’s it’s like to loose someone too Arcee…” Instead of just making him complain about girl trouble. That also would set up a potential plotline involving his absent father. Maybe he died?
It’s really funny that June didn’t see Arcee in the garage despite the fact that she’s literally in the driveway when Arcee reacts to her pulling up. Like there is zero way that she didn’t see the massive robot sitting in her garage. 
WHY DO THEY KEEP SETTING UP WEIRD ROMANTIC NOTES WITH JACK AND ARCEE?! HE’S SIXTEEN FOR FUCKS SAKE. 
ONCE AGAIN COMPLETELY UNDERMINING MEGATRON AS A EVEN REMOTELY COMPETENT LEADER BY MAKING HIM SHOVE AN UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE INTO HIS SPARK CHAMBER!!!! 
Other Notes
They should’ve put Megatron down. 
Episode Three - Darkness Rising, Part 3
Okay the little gesture Miko does when she pats Bulkhead’s interior and then puts her hands in her lap is so fucking cute. Bulkhead and Miko dynamic my beloved <3
At this point you could replace Soundwave with a piece of cardboard and literally nothing would change. Like… he just stands there, repeating other people’s voice lines. What even is the point of him? 
5:22’s Transforming scene between Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead really demonstrates how big the bots are and how fucking ridiculous their altmodes really are.
Ratchet should be allowed to kill I think. 
Okay Optimus says ‘Late in the war’ when referring to the energon deposites on Earth but like… it had to have happened before humans became a fully fledge civilization creating species, because Ratchet seems confused about Earth being a potential battlefield. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE TIMELINE MAN?????
I will never forgive what they did to Laserbeak. Like what the fuck is that ugly ass thing? Also adds to the continued problem in TF media where the cassettes don’t get to be actual characters and are instead just tools to be used by Soundwave. At the very least if they actually gave Soundwave a proper personality we might’ve been able to glean information about Laserbeak. Or hey maybe an inverse where Laserbeak acts as Soundwave’s voice, speaking for him in front of other characters. That would’ve given both of them an interesting dynamic. 
OH AND THE FACT THAT LASERBEAK IS ALSO AROUND THE SIZE OF A GODDAMN HELICOPTER???? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK???? That cannot possibly be right. And Laserbeak has tentacles… yeah okay fucking whatever I guess. 
Gah I don’t like the Agent Fowler kidnapping plotline. It feels out of place when the focus should really be on Optimus and Ratchet trying to stop Megatron. I think it would’ve been better suited for it’s own episode outside of the five pilot episodes. 
“About five years ago, the government started microchipping their agents.” As an American, yeah that is something my government would do. 
Y’know what, I think I would’ve been 100% okay with Miko throwing herself headlong into danger if she actually got a character arc where she realised how fucking dangerous and stupid of a decision that is. Like obviously TFP isn’t actually going to injure their child protagonists, but like… the show also wants me to be worried about the kids getting injured when they end up in situations and it falls flat when the Cybertronians are constantly telling Miko not to do stupid shit and then she never really learns her lesson, despite it nearly getting her and her friends killed on several occasions. 
Honestly if they’d just moved Fowler getting kidnapped to being it’s own episode, we probably could’ve cut down Darkness Rising to four parts instead of five. 
I think the showrunners should’ve allowed Ratchet to fucking maul Megatron right out the gate. It would’ve been funny and would’ve put Megatron out of commission way earlier. 
Episode Four - Darkness Rising, Part 4
I enjoy the little detail that you don’t actually see Miko getting out of Bulkhead when Raf and Jack do. 
Once again good lord I hope the vehicons aren’t sentient. Because otherwise Bulkhead is just killing so many people. 
Bulkhead’s voice actor nailed that MIKO?! perfectly. 
HOW THE FUCK DID MIKO JUST SLIDE ACROSS THE FLOOR LIKE THAT? HUMANS DO NOT HAVE THAT LEVEL OF TRACTION. 
Y’know for as much as the fandom and the show love to hype up Soundwave as this guy who can see everything on the Nemesis and knows exactly what is going on at all times, he’s sure doing a pretty shit job of noticing three autobots breaking into the ship with their human companions. 
ONCE AGAIN I REALLY HOPE THAT THE VEHICONS AREN’T SENTIENT BECAUSE OTHERWISE THE AUTOBOTS ARE GOING TO BE SO HYPOCRITICAL WHEN THEY SAY THEY CARE ABOUT ALL LIFE. 
Why did they animate Raf putting the backpack on? Literally why did he do that instead of just running with the backpack in his hand? 
Y’know what, shoutout to Jack for having the most normal reaction to being put in a life threatening situation. Miko is acting far too chill about all of this and I think it’s really weird how they keep having characters tell her that she could keep dying and then the dialogue serves no purpose because she just turns around and goes ‘Well I almost died too.’ Like girl that is not helping your case. Your actions nearly got yourself and a twelve year old killed. Again this wouldn’t be a problem if Miko actually learned a minor lesson about throwing herself headlong into danger. But she doesn’t learn. 
She can still be weird girl extraordinar who loves robots and Bulkhead and metal music and thrill seeking without putting her friends in harm’s way. Like that is perfectly feasible!
LMFAO RATCHET IS SO FUCKING READY TO BE DONE WITH THEM. God he truly is the funniest part of this show so far. 
Ugh… yay the first of many Starscream beatings. It is kinda funny how he sounds like he’s being choked but Megatron’s foot isn’t anywhere near his throat. 
Okay Miko, your speech is falling on deaf years because you did actually almost get people killed. Like… girl… you did almost die and I don’t think saying ‘Oh well I went to the best school and had a loving family but I was stifled and didn’t get to be as weird as I wanted to be which is exactly why you should come back to hang out in a place that is liable to get you killed with me.’ will the change the fact that the guy you’re trying to convince nearly died. 
Other Notes
Honestly, as much as I was ragging on Miko for the last couple of paragraphs, I do not actually hate her. I actually enjoy her moments with Bulkhead and the rest of the human cast in the base quite a bit. What I hate is how the show really wants you to think it’s super dark and gritty and oh my god the characters are at risk of getting injured and dying and then one of the main characters literally runs headlong into danger, nearly gets her friends killed, and then refuses to really sit down and understand why exactly her behaviour is dangerous for everyone around her. 
Like genuinely, think about it, what happens if Miko gets injured? Her host family all of a sudden have to deal with the fact that a child they’re legally responsible for has been hurt and then they have to explain that fact to her actual parents. Then the Cybertronians will be liable for Miko’s injuries as well. Like her actions could have genuine consequences for so many other people than just Jack and Raf and if the show actually decided to commit to the fact that she could get hurt, we might have actually had an interesting plot line on our hands. But no, Miko will continue to throw herself into danger because ‘Oh the big robots are so cool and even though they’re literally in a war that’s actually causing them physical and emotional harm, i’m going to continue to talk about it like it’s a video game.’
God girl… I wish you were written better. 
Episode Five - Darkness Rising, Part 5
Why does Megatron keep hating on Starscream, he’s literally just standing there 90% of the time. He hasn’t even done anything wrong in the five episodes he’s existed. 
I think it’s really funny that Soundwave has to be at the radio array in person to deal with the goal of getting the space bridge to turn towards Cybertron. And also that scene is so funny because he’s just hunched over, tentacles sucking away at a random console, not even in any of the ports, just latched onto the box itself. What is he even doing? How do those tentacles even work in terms of extracting data? 
Literally the very next scene shows Soundwave flipping through the cameras remotely so why does he even need the tentacles? And also what the fuck was he doing in the last episode when the autobots were breaking Fowler out of the brig, was he just taking a nap, or does he not have access to the Nemesis’ camera system?
I wish Megatron would’ve stayed dead. The maybe Starscream could be an actual character instead of a punching bag. 
RATCHET WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE? TREAT HER DAMMIT?!
Other Notes
Okay so despite my less than stellar reviews so far, I would actually rate the Darkness Rising Arc with a solid 6.5/10. Like they're not bad episodes, especially not as a set of opening episodes to get people hooked on the show. I merely have the benefit of having watched the show before and am therefore able to make judgements based off of preexisting knowledge.
------
alright and here is part two of my tfp watch through! another person recommended that i watch the rest of the darkness rising episodes since they're very much meant to be viewed sequentially in a single sitting. i technically watched eight episodes since i do an initial watch through and then a second watch through where i take notes.
-burnt ice anon
scrolling through this wall of text going Hey what the hell Until i realized we just passed a friday, and we’re reviewing tfp every friday now.
I’ll be completely honest with you right off the bat I will have to disagree, I fuckin love tfp Megatron I think he’s so funny. I have zero notes, his dark energon plotline is also funny to me. I get where you’re coming from about his character and role, but I guess but I love a good crazy bitch. He’s a hater after my own heart. 
one thing i guess i just have to dedicate an entire paragraph to is the Jack comparing his girl problems to Arcee’s loss because I also always thought it was weird, but upon rewatch I realized that… he doesn’t? Like if I’m not mistaken, he’s referring to Arcee as his girl problems. Which is, admittedly, still kinda rude, but it makes more sense, considering that she (albeit by accident and unwillingly) dragged him into mortal danger. Sorry, I just thought that was interesting. 
as for Miko… I always have to defend her. She’s fourteen, lacks self-preservation skills, and is insensitive at times because her excitement gets her faster than social norms do. She’s got a brand of adhd i sure know well. She IS however out of place with her excitement, considering how like, gritty and real tfp is trying to be, she would actually fit much better in a more lighthearted tf show. The writers never seemed to know where to take her, always keeping whether she’s learnt her lesson semi-ambiguous just in case they have to find an easy reason for the bots to be at a specific place or do a specific thing. But to be completely honest I never had any desire to see Miko learn her lesson. Also, people do need to cut her some slack, all she really wants to do is watch Transformers, something we get to do on tv, but she has to sneak through ground bridges and stuff to get a tiny piece of action. Sorry, this turned into a Miko appreciation paragraph. i can’t help myself.
9 notes · View notes
blurredcolour · 2 years
Text
If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part One
If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist
Summary: Your assignment as Austin Butler’s bodyguard, masquerading as his personal assistant, begins after your boss’s successful pitch in Palm Springs.
Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader
Warnings: Threatening letters, Discussion of death threats, Firearms, Language, Vaping, Alcohol consumption, Body image issues, Rating – T.  
Tumblr media
Author’s note: As stated on the series page, Austin Butler has an unnamed model girlfriend in this series. She is not based on anyone in particular, please do not interpret my descriptions of her and her actions as commentary on any real individuals in Austin Butler’s life.
Word Count: 4428
Tumblr media
“…You think you were so very clever, you filthy satanist. That you got away with it. You should have let the dead stay at peace! God knows! God has seen you for what you truly are! A witch! A warlock! A necramanzer raiser of the dead. There is a special spot in hell reserved just for you, Austin Butler, and it is my god given, heavenly ordained duty to see you there right quick...”
You set the photocopied sheets down on your lap, knowing the letter continued on in the same vein for several aggressively written pages. The author had pressed the pen so hard into the paper that the letters made shadow-filled hollows and curled the pages. Hatred had been scribed into the very fibres of the looseleaf before being crammed into an envelope and sent to an actor you, like most of the world, had only a nascent awareness of.
The car took a tight corner, pressing you up against the muscled form of your colleague Marwan, and you quickly straightened with an apology.
“Don’t worry about it, but why are you bothering with those letters again?” He gestured to the black and white photocopies in your lap.
You shook your head with a sigh.
“I... some notion that they might help me to know them if I ever see them out in a crowd somewhere?” Your shoulders rose and fell beneath your simple navy blazer, a knee-length dress with an A-line skirt in a matching shade beneath.
“But we don’t even have the job yet…” Argued Trey from your other side and you huffed out a self-deprecating laugh because it was true, you were absolutely over preparing for a proposal.
“Don’t you dare go jinxing this for me, Treyvon.” The owner and operator of Lane Protective Services, Scott Lane, quickly rejoined from the front seat.
You smirked and elbowed Trey in the ribs for getting him started again. It had been a very long drive from Los Angeles to Palm Springs. While only two hours in time, it had stretched into weeks in experience the longer Scott expounded on the business theories he ascribed to. He had finally trailed off about fifteen minutes ago but was once again feeling the need to mount his soap box.
“Terrible as it is that this is happening, award season is the perfect time for us to work for one of the hottest actors for the year. The public at large will have no idea, but those who know, will know. Free advertising. More work than we can handle, that is what I can only dream of…”
You did your best to tune him out, feigning interest in the threatening letters before you once more. It wasn’t that Scott was a bad person, he was just a little blunt and monetarily focused. The rest of you, Ari the driver included, were in the business to help people. You had each acquired a unique set of skills through your life experiences that lent themselves well to standing between notable people and the threats against them.
You had grown up in a rural area, raised by a hunting family, giving you a familiarity and confidence with firearms. In the same vein, you had also been a highly energetic child and an early encounter with the sport of judo had proven to be a useful outlet for you. You were also born with an innate talent for it and had progressed quickly to the competitive level. There were serious discussions about pursuing Olympic level training, but you had seen what that had cost the professional athletes.
And so, when Scott had appeared at one of your college tournaments with a business card and an interesting proposition you had made the decision to get into personal protection. Lane Protective Services had guided you through the training and licensing processes, and this would, if Mr. Butler’s team accepted the proposal, be your fourth assignment with the company.
To everyone’s relief, Ari pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where the potential protectee was staying for a weekend of events, and where time necessitated Scott would be delivering the proposal. Trey slid out and held the door for you to follow him, and you stepped out into the sun with a grateful stretch. Sharing a backseat with two well-built men for two hours had been snug. You grabbed your bag from the trunk and followed the group up to the room Scott had optimistically rented for two nights.
It was his hope that you and Ari would be staying to immediately begin accompanying and driving Mr. Butler while Marwan and Trey returned to his home to begin setting up the protection detail headquarters and sleeping space in the guesthouse. After one final inspection of the group’s business casual attire, Scott led you back to the elevator and up a few floors to where the suites were located. His knock on the door was answered by a redheaded woman you recognized from the briefing file as Mr. Butler’s Manager and Publicist Kate Rosen.
The group was ushered in, and Scott set up his slide deck on his laptop, giving you the proposal booklets to hand out. You swallowed back your sigh at the fact that he was delegating that to you, the only woman in the group, and you passed one to Kate. You glanced to see if Mr. Butler had joined you just as he stepped over the threshold from the bedroom into the sitting room. You had worked with celebrities before. Breathed the same air as many of them before. But the tall, long-limbed, tanned man in a suit and white button up, with maybe half of the buttons fastened, who appeared before you still selfishly stole all the oxygen from your lungs.
Silently, you waited until he had assumed the empty chair beside Kate before offering the booklet to him and going to stand beside Ari. Ari who had shot you a look with both eyebrows raised that you deliberately ignored. Turning your attention to Scott as he began to speak allowed you to breathe again. You listened patiently to the well rehearsed presentation which centered on you acting as Mr. Butler’s personal assistant for as long as it took the various law enforcement organizations involved in the investigation of the threatening letters to resolve the issue.
“She has a 7th-dan black belt in judo, is fully trained in close quarter fighting as well as tactical firearms, and has a multi-state, non-resident concealed carry permit.” Your eyes drifted to your shoes as Scott reached your list of selling points, finding it all-together awkward to be summed up by your achievements.
“Wait…are you armed right now?” A soft, resonant voice that tasted like honied whiskey interrupted Scott’s litany of your achievements and you raised your head to look at the man who had posed the question.
“Yes Mr. Butler.” You nodded politely.
You watched as he tilted his head, looking over your outfit. “But where?”
“A better question, Austin, would be why are we putting the smallest person in the room beside you the most? I recognize your argument about the optics and definitely want to keep this whole sordid thing out of the gossip columns but, what if the person threatening Austin is huge like one of these men? Are we not looking for overwhelming force?”
“An excellent question Ms. Rosen.” Scott looked to you and nodded. “Full force takedown of Trey please.” There was hint of glee in his voice, and you knew you were a device to provide payback for his earlier doubt of the success of this pitch.
Nodding once, you undid the button on your blazer, walking up to Trey before feinting at him. His response was to lunge forward, and you used his momentum against him, throwing him to the carpet in a perfected judo toss. You pulled your pocket pistol from its holster on your inner thigh, pressing it against the back of his head.
“Oh.” Came a quiet sound of realization from Austin as you answered his earlier question.
“Well then…” Kate cleared her throat and nodded.
You quickly holstered your firearm, having never released the safety, and helped the larger man back to his feet. Straightening your dress, you went to stand beside Ari quietly, once again looking at your shoes.
“Shall I proceed?” Scott asked cheerfully and continued his pitch after a few stunned nods.
He laid out the rest of the plan to have Ari take over as Austin’s driver and for Trey and Marwan to ensure security of the house and be on protective duty overnight. As Scott wrapped up, hands were shaken and your group headed back down to the room to wait, passing what looked like a football team in the hallway. Surely the next pitch. Scott’s idea was unique, you just weren’t sure if it was what they were looking for.
The wait was not long. Forty-five minutes later Scott got the call, confirming the contract. The group headed back up to finalize the paperwork, and you noticed that Austin seemed a lot more relaxed in the presence of Baz Luhrmann and his partner Catherine. It could also have been the glass of whiskey on the rocks gripped loosely in one hand, or the vape pen dangling from the fingers of his other. All they did for you was provide a distraction by pulling your focus to his plush pink lips as they took in the glowing amber liquid or exhaled plumes of sweet smelling vapour.
Hands were shaken again before Kate gave the keys to Austin’s house to Trey and he left along with Scott and Marwan in a rental car to make preparations. Ari went to have the town car the five of you had driven out in cleaned for the award ceremony that night and that left you to build a relationship with protectee. It would be crucial to keep him safe over the next while.
“If you’ll be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal…” Baz sang in your direction, making you smile softly – after all, as far as most people would know you were a personal assistant, and stoicism would not suit that appearance at all.
“I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al!” Austin joined in, making you swallow thickly at the smooth, caramel quality of his voice.
“Baz, pleasure to meet you.” The world-famous directly shook your hand warmly as you introduced yourself in turn.
“No, no” Austin punctuated his statement with playful jabs of his vape pen and you finally became aware of the fact that he had button his shirt up the rest of the way and put on a tie. What a shame.
“I think that’s perfect. Betty. My personal assistant Betty.” He finished with a grin.
“Certainly, Mr. Butler, Betty is an acceptable cover name. Thank you.” You nodded.
“But you gotta call me Al, then.” He playfully pouted a little and you pressed your lips together to prevent too wide of a grin.
“I’m sorry Mr. Butler, I am not able to do that.”
“She can throw me across the room, but she can’t call me Al.” He teased, earning a chorus of laughter from Baz and Catherine.
Kate pulled you aside and took you through his schedule for the next few days – awards ceremony to start in two hours, after party, followed by brunch the next morning and then back to LA for a cocktail event.
“We’ll get you set up with the full thing later but for now, carry mine. Here’s the bag I use. He cannot walk the red carpet with his personal effects, they have a terrible habit of getting lost in all the hugging and interviews. I’ll have you carry them too, unless that interferes?” She looked to you with a tilt of her head, and you shook yours in response.
“Not at all, Ms. Rosen, I just might have to drop the bag during an incident.”
“Right ok…well I’ll pick it up then. That’ll be my thing during an incident.” She cleared her throat. “Scott said you would have a wardrobe? This looks good, blazers, dresses…if we go to the Oscars, they’ll want you in a gown but the rest this or a pant suit will do.” She nodded.
“I will call our wardrobe specialist when we get back in town day after tomorrow.” You nodded and she smiled in relief.
“Good…and you’ll keep him safe?” She looked into your eyes seriously.
“Yes ma’am, that is why I am here.” You replied earnestly.
“Good.” She beamed and bustled off to try and round up the trio who needed to get going.
As they finally made their way towards the door, you strode quickly forward.
“I will have to go first, is that all right?” You asked, quickly wedging yourself between Austin and the door as he reached for the handle.
“Oh uh, yeah, of course…” He nodded, pulling his outstretched hand back to rub the nape of his neck.
You offered a small smile and lowered your voice so that only he could hear.
“We’ll get better at this, Mr. Butler.” You nodded softly, smile widening as his stunning blue eyes met yours and crinkled at the corners.
“Yes, we will, Betty. Yes, we will.” He nodded warmly and gestured for you to proceed.
You nodded warmly and opened the door, doing a quick scan of the hall before stepping out, letting Kate hold the door and bring up the rear. Two town cars waited at the curb, and you led Austin over to where Ari stood holding the door open.
“I’ll sit up front.” You nodded to Kate and Austin, making sure they got into the back before sliding in beside Ari.
It felt somewhat silly to drive just two blocks over to the Palm Springs Convention Centre, but it was the ‘done thing’ and safer regardless. On the ride over, Kate gave you a crash course in how to be an assistant on a red carpet. Climbing out first, you surveyed the area as you moved to open Austin’s door before holding the bag open for him to hand over his personal effects. He smiled and squeezed your shoulder, and you could not help but notice the slight tremor in his hand.
“You’re going to do great, Betty.” He murmured and you nodded softly.
“You, too, Mr. Butler.” You tucked the bag on your arm before leading him up to the entrance to the red carpet and there your paths diverged.
You kept pace with him behind the row of reporters, noting the quickest path to him every few feet you moved towards the door of the building. You were reassured that Kate was permitted to be right up there with him and nodded to her every time her eyes sought yours. You barely knew the pair of them, but you could already tell they had a deep bond.
Inside the lobby, Austin retrieved his wallet, vape pen, and phone from your bag before heading inside to be seated. Kate spoke to one of the organizers who found you a space along the back of the room to stand, with a fairly good view of Austin. It was not ideal, and you would have a conversation with her about future ceremonies, but it would have to do for now.
A few hours in, however, you were starting to regret the heels. You would have a conversation with Shyla, the wardrobe specialist, about flats. Once Austin received his award, Kate came to lead you on a rather circuitous route to the press room where he and Baz were being hailed with camera flashes and questions from the assembled reporters. The two men were so very charismatic that it was tempting to allow them to distract you, but you found the professional fortitude to focus on the room, assess the threat, find the person who could not spell ‘necromancer.’
Once you were satisfied that individual was mostly likely not in that room, you were able to relax into a watchful patience. There was an afterparty before the very tipsy pair of men were herded back to the hotel. You made sure that Austin was safely in his room before retiring to the room you shared with Ari.
You used the steamer from the closet to smooth the wrinkles from your light gray dress and blazer from your bag to be ready for the brunch tomorrow. Locking your gun in the safe, you were nearly asleep by the time Ari returned from securing the car for the night.
Arriving at Austin’s suite at nine am, you sat down with Kate to go over the schedule.
“So, the hardest part for me was the separation during the ceremony. I am aware that it’s impossible for me to get tickets but is the back of the room really the best we have?” You asked carefully.
“Would it reassure you to know how difficult it is to get inside these things? Especially the rest of the ceremonies moving forward…Nonetheless I will see what I can do. Maybe you can have my spot for the ceremonies as long as I can remain nearby for the press moments. Stay tuned, ok?” She offered and you nodded.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“Oh no, call the authorities, what are you two conspiring about…” Austin rasped from the doorway behind you, making both of you turn to look at him.
You swallowed roughly as your eyes landed on his loosely tied robe, barely concealing his tanned skin with only his boxers underneath. The morning light glinted off the chain around his neck, highlighting the soft, golden dusting of hair across his chest.
“Good morning, Mr. Butler.” You said quickly and looked back to the schedule. “Thank you very much Ms. Rosen.”
“Austin, get dressed before you kill Betty. Brunch starts at eleven and I’m assuming you want some coffee?” Kate stood as Austin nodded. “Betty what’s your order, I’m going to Starbucks for the good stuff. We’ll send you in the future, I suppose, but you should get to know that boy…maybe you can teach him how to button his shirt.” She smirked and you bit your lip to hide your delight at her jibes.
Once she was armed with a full Starbucks order, Kate headed out, the door clicking softly in the silence in her wake. You turned back to the schedule in front of you, drafting an email in your phone for items you would need from both Shyla and IT. You looked up as the door to the bedroom opened again to reveal a fully dressed Austin.
“Better?” He drawled with a smirk, and you let out a short huff of laughter despite yourself.
“Yes, Mr. Butler.” You grinned and watched as he settled into a wide-legged seat on the couch.
“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, his long fingers stroking along his jaw, momentarily distracting you from his words before you managed a nod.
“Of course.” You replied as you moved to sit on the plush chair to his left, tucking the skirt of your dress underneath your butt before sinking into the cushion.
“Why does this person wanna kill me?” The voice asking that question seemed to come from someone much smaller and much younger than the man sitting beside you and you felt your throat clench.
“Well, I…I won’t claim to have any expertise in behavioural science, but it very much seems like an unstable person who has decided to fixate on your achievement.” You replied carefully, smoothing and pulling at the hem of your dress.
He exhaled slowly in response.
“They think I…summoned him from the dead or something?” He shook his head. “Makes me sad…”
“As far as I understand the police are making headway in the investigation. Hopefully, this won’t go on much longer and everyone can move on with their lives. And they can get the help they need.”
He nodded thoughtfully, those elegant digits of his moving to trace the contours of his lips.
“So where are you from, Betty? I want to get to know you…”
You smiled softly and happily indulged him, answering questions about yourself and posing them back to him in return. You were so ensconced in the conversation, that Kate’s return startled you a little. You accepted your beverage gratefully and retreated to the table as she moved in to go over his schedule with him for the day, which ended with the W Magazine & Louis Vuitton awards season dinner.
“So, we need to be in the car driving back to you house by three, ideally, to give you time to get changed and get you and your girlfriend loaded into the car and onto the next event.”
“Understood.” He acquiesced with an innocent smile, and you had a sneaking suspicion that time was an ongoing issue.
Over the course of the brunch, it became quite apparent why as, though gentle and soft spoken, Austin was also kind and affectionate and seemed to thoroughly enjoy connecting with people. He was also very much in demand at the event, with so much buzz around him that people were lingering in informal queues to get a chance to just shake his hand and congratulate him on the movie. You could only surmise it made the threats even more bitter as they tainted such remarkable success.
The four of you, with Ari behind the wheel, were not driving back to Los Angeles until four-thirty and Austin was frantically texting his girlfriend with apologies while Kate was on the phone making sure everything was set for an upcoming appearance on Jimmy Kimmel. You took the opportunity to have a small nap in the front seat, confident that Ari had the situation under control and equally confident that it would be a long night.
As Austin dashed inside to get ready, Kate grabbed her car and headed home, and you went to deposit your bags in the guest house you’d be sharing in rotation with Marwan, Trey, and Ari. There was a living room with pullout couch, small kitchen, bedroom, and a simple bathroom. You found a place to hang your clothes and stash the rest of your things, freshening up and eating something quickly before you and Ari headed out to wait for the couple.
And what a couple they made. Both equally tall and thin, strikingly beautiful, youthful…you swallowed the bitter taste of envy that flooded your mouth and smiled warmly to Austin’s girlfriend as he brought her over to make introductions.
“Very nice to meet you, miss.” You nodded professionally as you shook her delicate hand and tried not to take it personally as she barely looked at you before hugging Austin’s arm.
The lithe, long lines of her arm only served to make you acutely aware of every bulge and ripple of muscle beneath your clothes. With mere proximity she reignited every insecurity you had ever felt about the body that diligent judo practice had built. You were Hulk Hogan in a dress.
“We gotta get going, babe.” She reminded him and Ari moved forward quickly to open the car door for them to climb in, blessedly yanking you out of your descent into middle school angst.
During the drive to the dinner party, you respectfully kept your eyes forward and your ears closed to the hushed, intimate tones of conversation in the backseat, punctuated by husky laughter or feminine giggles. Accidental, unintentional glances in the rear-view mirror told you they were huddled together, heads bowed close, hands clasped. A stunning pair of human specimens that, for the first time in your career, left you feeling utterly out of place.
You were grateful for the quiet intimacy of the dinner, the bench at the back of the dinning room for you to wait, the low security risk. You found excuses to go over and check on Austin, but otherwise scanned the room and kept an eye on things from a distance.
Not only were they a beautiful couple but they were a favourite as well, with many of the other guests stopping by or rotating through the chairs near them once the formality of the courses broke and mingling resumed. A glance at your watch told you it was well past midnight, and you praised the foresight that had led to your nap in the car. Nevertheless, relief flooded you as Austin sauntered over to let you know you’d be heading home as soon as his girlfriend returned from the washroom.
“You must be starving!” He exclaimed softly, suddenly casting his eyes around for something to satiate hunger he thought he perceived in you.
“It’s all right Mr. Butler, I had something to eat while you were getting ready.” You reassured him and found yourself briefly blinded by the brilliant intensity of his smile loosened by alcohol.
“Oh good, can’t have you dying on the first day, Betty.” He smirked and elbowed you in the arm playfully, causing a chuckle to tumble from your lips.
“Second, technically…” You smirked but trailed off as you watched his statuesque girlfriend, with her rich hair and striking eyes reclaim control of his arm.
You saw a veil fall over his eyes…creating an invisible barrier between you as she drew his focus like a high-powered magnet. As though you simply ceased to exist in that moment. In her presence. Turning sharply on your heel, you began to weave your way out of the dining room, only glancing back to be sure they were keeping pace.
The consummate professional, you saw them safely to the car and into the house before going to take a shower and sitting on the small patio outside the guest house to eat some pizza the night shift had bought. The rustle of the Santa Ana winds through the palm fronds above worked its magic, capturing the tension in your body and carrying it away towards the Pacific Ocean. At last, you felt ready to retire for the night.
Standing to make your way inside for some proper sleep, a very distinct and enthusiastic female cry reached your ears from the main house. It only served to hasten your steps and you sent an earnest prayer out into the universe that the unstable letter writer was found sooner rather than later. Because this was going to be a very trying assignment.
Tumblr media
Read Part Two
If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist
177 notes · View notes
theladyofshalott1989 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Damien Andrew Evans (My OC/MC from the Like Moths to a Flame series)
*I modeled his character off of a young Garrett Hedlund. Here are some photos of Garrett (one with his hair down long - LMtaF Damien - and one with his hair short - BB Damien):
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I wrote this in a frenzy last night (referencing my already copious notes from the past… hmm… eleven months??? WHAT), so I apologize if it reads like word-vomit (LMAO). BUT, without further ado, here is my Damien info-dump. Damien is my OC from my series, Like Moths to a Flame, which I started on Wattpad in March 2023. Check it out if you are so inclined (AO3 link because AO3 is better…please don’t hate me, Wattpad police haha).
General Info:
Born and raised in London
Lives in a huge estate in Mayfair
Father’s family comes from old money
Birthday: 13th December 1874 
Mother: Mary REDACTED Evans (yes, redacted because it’s a spoiler for Burning Bright)
Died shortly after Damien turned two 
Father: Andrew Robert Evans
Magistrate in London
Workaholic, doesn’t interact much with his son, leaves him to his own devices the majority of the time (he is very lucky Damien is a good boy; the shenanigans Damien could have gotten up to if he was so inclined…lmao) 
Half-blood (only found this out after he came to Hogwarts; his mother never shared this information with his father)
Only child
Personality:
ENFP (apparently) (thanks Myers-Briggs test!) Fueled by interaction with others (being an only child and spending most of his time alone during the summer holidays deeply damaged him)
Attracted to the same sex (and has known this for as long as he can remember)
Alas, he is super self-conscious about his sexual orientation, having grown up in Muggle London, where being gay is a crime. He is also quite secretive because of it; he wants to open up more to people (it’s in his nature) but is hesitant until he feels he can trust them fully. This can take a while. 
Nearly everything he does, he always has this nagging thought in the back of his mind (it follows him literally everywhere): Would my mother be proud of me? (He has never told anyone this; it also haunts him immensely)
Highly intuitive
Very forgiving (arguably to a fault) of anyone he grows to love and trust
Feels very deeply, but, again, he tries his best to hide it. Something must be terribly wrong or extremely upsetting for him to cry in a public setting. 
Not very organized (also has a problem with tardiness), EXCEPT when he is at home. He doesn’t want to make a mess for the servants, so he is extremely meticulous and clean when he’s home for the summer. Any other time, he couldn’t care less (LMAO). Physical Description:
Very unique brown eyes with golden flecks in them (Seb is absolutely obsessed)
Taller than average (a little taller than Sebastian, much to Sebastian’s chagrin)
Long blonde hair (just past his shoulders) that he keeps tied back in a low bun (his preferred style)
Sebastian would much rather he wear it down and loose (he is quite vocal about this), but he eventually is like fine…you do you, fam
In Burning Bright, Damien has to cut his hair short so his father isn’t suspicious. He has a cute little tuft at the top of his head that sometimes cascades across his face, which Sebastian is enamored with
(Eton, the all-boys boarding school Damien attended before Hogwarts, has strict uniform and hygiene protocols and would never permit him to wear his hair long; Damien’s father thinks he is still attending Eton so he must keep up appearances)
Lithe but muscular, a testament to how active he is when he arrives at Hogwarts. His go-to when he’s not in classes is to ride his broom around the Scottish Highlands and complete Merlin Trials. He is obsessed with finding and completing them all. (What a Ravenclaw…)
Ample arse though (LMAO) which Sebastian loves… (Seb is an arse-man; you’re welcome HAHAHAHA)
Tan from being outdoors most of the time
Sharp jawline, broad neck and chest, prominent collarbone (he is quite thin), very angular features
Light spoiler for stories post-Burning Bright: Older Damien is a bit heavier in adulthood (and Seb loves this development)
Magic Reveal:
Damien never had one of those “oh shit what just happened???” magical moments, so when Fig showed up on his doorstep with his Hogwarts letter at the very beginning of the summer in 1890, Damien thought it was a joke. When Fig did some magic for him to convince him, Damien lost his goddamn mind. He was thrilled, but also terrified. Fig told him not to worry, that he could stay with him over the summer to prepare Damien for the school year. 
Damien’s father was (unsurprisingly) not home when Fig arrived. Damien also asked Fig not to say anything to his father. Fig sensed there was some tension between Damien and his father and agreed (for the time being). Eventually, once Fig got to know Damien better, he decided Damien was right and it was for the best that his father didn’t know about his magic. This was the moment when Damien realized he could fully trust Fig. Surrogate father/son bond activated <3
Their backstory (if Damien’s father asked) for why Damien was gone over the summer was that he was traveling with a friend from Eton. Damien’s father was hella neglectful and didn’t even bother to ask, which to be fair, made things super easy for Damien and Fig (LMAO). 
Likes:
The color green
Flying (he loves how freeing it is and the feeling of the wind in his hair)
DADA is his favorite class (his early dueling wins probably played a factor; poor Damien didn’t have a lot of wins in his life prior to coming to Hogwarts, well…besides being rich AF LOL)
CATS (dude adores cats to the EXTREME; he would love to adopt all of the ones he finds wandering around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade; I even have a headcanon that very early on in his time at Hogwarts he smuggles a cat into his room - a room which he shares with Amit, Everett, and Andrew, mind you. Unfortunately, Amit is allergic, so that plan goes to hell in a handbasket rather quickly.)
Magic (obviiiiiii); he still can’t believe his luck that he’s at Hogwarts
The Wizarding World and how accepting it is of all forms of love. He cannot believe his lucky stars that he can be openly affectionate with Sebastian. It even takes him a while to realize this because no one straight up told him and Sebastian at first wants to keep their relationship on the down low since he’s still trying to figure out if Damien feels as strongly about Sebastian as Sebastian feels about Damien. Silly boys #idiotsinlove
Dislikes:
Herbology (he SUCKS at it; Sebastian and Damien have this in common, but Damien is much, much worse. He never uses magical plants in his duels because he is bitter about how bad he is at growing them and doesn’t want to spend money buying them at the Magic Neep hahaha)
Close-minded people (which is why he is understandably upset and confused by Sebastian’s very vocal hatred of goblins; it nearly ends any potential of a relationship from that point forward, but Seb does eventually apologize more than once *PHEW*)
Dark Mongrels, and to a certain extent dogs (le sigh) (light spoiler for Burning Bright so I won’t go into detail about it)
Interactions with Other Characters:
Fig -
Fig was the father Damien always wanted. Supportive, understanding, a wealth of knowledge. Losing him was absolutely devastating; it nearly broke Damien. 
Natty -
Besides Sebastian, Damien’s second kindred spirit. When Sebastian and Damien aren’t on good terms for a large swathe of Like Moths to a Flame, they are joined at the hip. Sebastian even worries that they might be a couple at one point and is very jelly. (C’mon Seb, read the freaking room!)
Poppy - 
Damien likes Poppy but is a bit intimidated by her. He still really enjoys her company, just in moderation. Ominis -
Damien willfully ignored him before they officially met. He didn’t realize it at the time, but eventually comes to the conclusion that he was jealous that Ominis was best friends with Sebastian. Notably, he easily sensed that Ominis wasn’t into Sebastian romantically, so that was a relief at the very least. Damien was super annoyed by Ominis after the encounter post-Undercroft. He couldn’t understand how someone could lose their temper so easily. Eventually, they do bond… hilariously, it’s Ominis that makes the effort to get to know Damien better. (Of course Ominis knows that Seb and Damien are snogging; he’s ~scary~ perceptive; at first Ominis is just vetting Damien in a protective “I need to make sure you’re a good person for my best friend” kind of way, but then he eventually realizes he enjoys being in Damien’s company. Likewise Damien to Ominis. They eventually also bond over classic music (Ominis lets Damien borrow his gramophone every so often and they sometimes even listen to it together.) 
Amit, Everett, and Andrew - 
Damien’s roomies! He likes Amit and Everett a lot, but definitely has more in common with Everett since they are both obsessed with flying. Damien even buys Everett a broom so he can stop using a school one. Damien finds Amit a bit awkward, but in an endearing way. He would beat someone up for realsies though if he ever overheard anyone make fun of him. 
Andrew and Damien don’t really care about each other either way. Andrew hangs out in different crowds. They don’t talk much. 
And yes, I realize that Duncan Hobhouse is also in Ravenclaw, but I've decided he has his own room. Damien finds him annoying, even though Everett is friends with him for some reason lmao.
Sebastian - HOOOO BOY HERE WE GO Damien fell for Sebastian HARD almost immediately after meeting him (their dialogue after the match in DADA was such a turn-on hahaha). He really struggled to play it cool that entire exchange though. He does succeed (sigh), but later… um… goes back to his room and yeah, in my headcanon he furiously does what you would expect lmao.
Sebastian immediately found Damien intriguing BUT he was not sure why. He had always appreciated the beauty of both genders, but he had only ever been with a girl so it never even crossed his mind that he could be romantically interested in Damien. He didn’t realize until <BIG SPOILER FOR LIKE MOTHS TO A FLAME> Damien asked Seb to kiss him in the Undercroft. Once their lips touched, Sebastian had one of those *connect the dots <Charlie from It’s Always Sunny at the blackboard scribbling nonsense> moments* and is like… OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. And then he just rolled with it. Doesn’t question it at all he’s so confident in what happened. Damien is immediately his. MINE MINE MINE seagulls from Finding Nemo gif. 
<BIG SPOILER OVER>
Unfortunately, Dark Magic was a HUGE cockblock (*sad face*) and their budding relationship combusted to the extreme. Damien was devastated but would NEVER admit it so he lost himself in his other friendships (thank you for being there Natty, you QUEEN). As we all know, Sebastian sucks at expressing himself (LMAO say it louder for those in the back), so he avoided Damien like the plague and stewed in his anger. But he is confused and upset and just a turmoil of emotions and it plagues him. A proverbial storm cloud follows him everywhere he goes. 
And then all hell breaks loose with the relic (DAMN YOU RELIC), BUT Damien and his strong intuition senses something is up and realizes that Seb is not himself. He activates stealth mode and becomes Seb’s shadow without Seb realizing, following him around and making sure he is okay. After the catacomb ~incident~, Damien won’t let him out of his sight and refuses to permit him to head back to the castle alone. In fact, it scares him so much that once they make it back to the castle, Damien has an OH SHIT I LOVE HIM BUT HE JUST MURDERED SOMEONE moment and he is so lost in his thoughts that Sebastian runs off. This haunts Damien immensely because he is so worried that Sebastian is going to hurt himself. And then, of course, he gets all caught up in the repository / goblin invasion stuff that he is distracted, but he still follows Sebastian around when he can. #sneakyDamien
And I’m not going to go into further detail because massive spoilers for the end of Like Moths to a Flame hahahaha.
***
So, that’s my Damien. He is my ~goodest~ boy. And he has definitely stolen my heart. <3
21 notes · View notes
darkfictionjude · 2 months
Note
My third time trying to send it, Oh My God, I apologise if you receive like... three asks. Me being dum-dum with smartphone. Apologise for my poor English, too. Hello, Jude!
I want to thank you for your fantastic WWC-if. I deeply enjoyed it, because it has a very interesting plot, very well written atmosphere/vibe, but your characters? Oh man, your characters are the most delicious part of your work (-s even). I find them so different, so unique, so deep and really well-written, because I feel them; sometimes hate them too, but for a good reason, that they make me go “ah shit I strongly disagree with you, but FINE”. Love them all, eat them all, too.
Moreover, I’ll be patiently waiting for your new works to be continued, really excited about them. I must admit, so far I’m captivated by Dante, because he’s such a monster (affectionate). I know, that he’s morally bad, does terrible things that contradict with our very normal and modern views, but you know what? It’s good! I love psychos (scientifically)! As a fellow creator I can see the appeal of that kind of romance — destructive and wild. I’ll go for Dante-romance just to witness his love burn and cause damage. I want to have options for Luce to hurt Dante back, make him mad, but, you know, in a very passionate way or something like that. When I see characters barking at each other and then make out, I feel happy, because it's interesting, even if one of them can kill you (whatever, I swear, I don't care, have my green light to make Luce suffer). I don’t expect (and don’t want to, to be honest) Dante suddenly to change ‚for the better‘ or set aside his views, background and other things, that make him, well, him, because of a magical power of LOVE. In fact, I hope I'll see this exact love bringing the worst in him, showing what he can (and probably will) do for Luce or to them. You know, distorted views of love and affection are the best yet rarest among the ifs. Authors are mostly scared to create a deranged character and show their love in an ugly way. However, few people and I surely crave it. I don't want to cry on your shoulder, but I'm really tired of 'toxic romance' to turn suddenly very sweet and nice, showing only some scenes of jealousy and possessiveness, and that's it, sadly. So... thank you for not making him another 'good bad guy', I guess (so far?)? Seriously, you're doing God's (Devil's, maybe) work here.
Long Story Short, thank you so much for your works, I wish you the best, a lot of luck and Inspiration. I like you as a person and as a dark writer! I will watch you making your progress from the shadows of the deepest lake on Earth. You have my support, Jude.
So many times I’ve gotten apologizes from people saying they don’t speak English as a first language and yet they’re so eloquent in their messages 💀
Yeah I’ve never been a fan of fiction that has the love interest do a 180 because they’re in love. So does that mean they’ll become the same person the minute the love interest leaves them? Then that’s not true change and it’s not real character development. It’s one thing for a person to show you how to view things differently but it’s not genuine if you’re doing it to please them. I don’t think I’ll ever do a fix-it romance
I do get why some creators are hesitant to create romances like these because you’ll likely be subject to backlash from people saying you’re promoting abusive relationships or what-have-you but depiction is not endorsement nor romanticization or justification. That idea seems lost on people sometimes. I won’t justify my characters bad actions as right I will simply explain why from their point of view they believe things they do to be ok and not because they want to fuck the MCs over (although sometimes that’s exactly what they want to do)
I love how my characters frustrate you! And thank you lake underground nonnie ☺️
8 notes · View notes