#I have so much to say about Eden somebody ask me about him he is my little lovely

[vidawhump]

Dear Valentine

Masterpost

CW/TW: Captivity whump, winged whumpee, idk this one’s just fluffy

“Elias, don’t be like that. Just come down and eat your breakfast.”

Elias refused to respond to his captor, continuing to gaze out the window. The cities were right there. And just beyond that, the forests. His home, his family, his freedom, were right at his fingertips. So close, yet so far away. His life was taken away by Cassidy, and no matter how much she might romanticize the exhibitions, he hated it all. He tucked himself away in his wings, desperately trying to ignore Cassidy.

“C’mon, starling, it’s Valentine’s Day! Everyone is here to-“

“I’m not a starling. The starlings were my friends. …Don’t talk about them.”

Elias would normally bite back and start a fight with Cassidy, but he was burnt out. He would bite her in the ass tomorrow, but not today. Cassidy sighed in frustration, and Elias heard a light tap on the table below the windowsill.

“Be stage-ready by noon. Eat your food. And…” A pause. Cassidy never hesitates. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Love you.” With that, she left the room, long brown hair rippling behind her like the rivers back home. It shut with a sharp click.

Hell no. What was that? Her voice carried mild traces of… sympathy? Empathy? No. She has Elias trapped here. She’s using him. Soon. He’ll be out soon.

Elias swung out from the windowsill, angling his wings to soften the fall. Neglecting the tray of berries that Cassidy had left for him, he brought his attention to the concerningly large pile next to it. It consisted of what seemed to be hundreds of Valentine's cards, envelopes, and assorted candy hearts. And a letter opener. Of course, Cassidy wanted him to open them all. Maybe when he finished, he could shred the papers and make a mess of his room. That’s sure to piss her off.

Idly shuffling through the stacks of magentas, pinks, purples, and assorted “romantic” colors, Elias stopped at a deep maroon envelope. Unlike the others with their cheesy hearts, cupids, and pitiful declarations of love, this one had barely any details. It was dented in the corners as if it was beaten up during delivery. The outside was entirely bare, save for a matte black wax stamp, sealing it all shut. In the middle of the stamp was a crow with outspread wings. Elias’ breath caught in his throat. There was only one person who could’ve sent this.

He stumbled to fly back up to the windowsill, where the sunrise dripped in soft pinks and purples behind the cityscape. Feathers fluttering behind him, Elias scrambled his way onto the ledge with the envelope and letter opener in hand. He barely managed to open the envelope before pulling out a hastily folded loose-leaf notebook paper. Most of the paper had unrelated notes and to-do lists hastily scribbled into the corners. Between a due date reminder from months before and a dried coffee stain, were a small cluster of hearts in spotty red pen. He couldn't help but cry when he saw the familiar handwriting.

Dear Valentine

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Molly misses you. She’s walking all over my paper as I write this. You might see tiny bites on the paper because she literally won’t leave me alone. She knows that she can get away with anything, I swear.

New Years passed me by. I went on a walk just before midnight to stargaze under our favorite tree. And I swear, before the fireworks covered everything up, right when the clocks struck midnight, the stars glowed just a little brighter. I think between everything that’s going on, that might be a good sign. :)

The forests are quiet without you. I miss your rambunctious energy firing up the whole flock, and the way you know you were born to be a leader. The kids are asking where you went, and I can only keep up the excuse of a spontaneous solo migration for so long. I miss finding your fluffy feathers in absolutely everything I own, and the way you would make a nest of blankets on my bed and hide out in my room when you got sick. Molly likes playing with the feathers that are still lying around. She’s collecting them in a fuzzy pile in her corner. Molly wants you to come home. It’ll happen soon.

Recently, I’ve only worn your hoodies and sweaters, the ones with holes in the back for your wings. Physically, it’s colder, but it makes me feel that much closer to you. The bed is lonely without you. I miss the way I would wake up to your primary feathers all up in my face, you sprawled out all over the bad and hoarding all the blankets. If I pile up the blankets next to me with your feathers, and if I close my eyes, for just a minute, I can pretend you’re still here with me.

You’ll be out soon. I promise I’ll help you escape. I have a plan, and I know you’ll catch on fast.

Eden <3

And taped to the last page were wilted rose petals. There was a rose bush just outside his window. Elias pressed up against the window and peered down at the small bush, which was mysteriously missing a few roses. Eden was here. Eden knows exactly where he is and has a plan to get him out.

Elias felt his heart flutter, reminiscing on memories he and Eden shared. Not even the forests know what the nature of their relationship is. Romantic, platonic, does it even matter? Elias and Eden are the light of each other’s lives, so why try to label their dynamic?

Elias took a deep breath, looking out his window. The pink had slowly bled into a cloudy blue. Gripping the paper to his chest, the future was looking a little brighter for Elias.

He should probably get to opening all the other cards. Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 14)

previous // next // story index

—————

Eden's cousin leaves halfway through the group class.

For students Eden's age, most of the caregivers don't hang around to watch the class. Stan's grandson Marek and three little girls Nikolai doesn't know are also in the class and they don't have any adult caregivers present either, so Eden being there without an adult family member isn't odd from Nikolai's point of view. It's the fact that the cousin would just get up and disappear before class was over that unsettles him, particularly because now class actually is over and another one will be starting soon, and there's no sign of anyone coming to collect Eden.

For his part, Eden doesn't seem bothered. Once he has his skates off, he happily climbs onto the bench and plops himself down next to Nikolai with a cheerful, "So, what did you think? Everybody in our class is really good, right?"

Eden is so tiny, the toes of his boots aren't touching the floor, and Nikolai has to remind himself that the boy is only a few months away from turning eleven. He smiles. "Everyone in your class is really good, but I'd say you and that red-haired girl are the best."

"Oh, that's Everleigh," Eden says. "She totally is the best. She wants to do pairs when she gets older, and she has a big crush on my friend Marek, but he thinks girls are gross. I like girls, but sometimes I think I like boys too, but actually I don't want to date anybody because I have to think about my career first. Are you dating anybody?"

"That's a lot, Eden. Are you always this talkative?"

"No," Eden says, casually swinging his little legs. "But, I like you."

"To answer your question, I'm not dating anybody. I'm married."

Eden nods sagely. "My dad says marriage is sacred, but I don't know about that. I think it just means you have to pay a lot of bills and complain about things like having to change the oil in your car or somebody leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor."

Nikolai laughs. "Not going to lie, I like your definition better. It's more accurate, from my experience."

"Does your wife complain about you leaving towels on the floor?"

"Yeah, and sometimes I complain about her doing it too. She complains about my cat shedding, and I complain about how long it takes her to get ready to go anywhere."

His and Anya's problems aren't nearly that trivial or innocent, but he's not about to tell a ten year old child that his marriage is in shambles and he's all but made up his mind to ask his wife to agree to a divorce. This is assuming he can work up the courage, of course. He doubts Anya will make it easy for him in any case, and he's not looking forward to the confrontation.

"I'm never getting married," Eden declares.

"Good choice," says Nikolai.

"Yeah. Yi-Joon says I'm probably going to be too high-maintenance for anyone to handle anyway, but y'know what? I'm okay with that."

"Yi-Joon?" Nikolai inquires.

"My stupid cousin," Eden clarifies. "He came here from South Korea last summer to stay with us for a year and learn English. He's so annoying. All he does besides go to language school is watch K-dramas and talk to girls on the phone and go to expensive coffee places. I don't think he even likes sports."

"We aren't all going to like the same things," Nikolai says. "Life would be kind of boring if we were all into the same stuff, don't you think? Our differences are what make us interesting."

"Maybe, if people respected what other people were into."

"Do you respect what your cousin is into?"

"He can like K-dramas if he wants to. I don't like them, but I don't try to stop him from watching them, and I don't make fun of him for it."

"That's all anyone should reasonably ask for."

"I think so too, but it's like I'm asking too much when I want people to respect what I like. I want Yi-Joon to stop making fun of me about skating. And my parents... they don't even get that It's not just a hobby. I really want to do this. Like, to be a real athlete."

"You want to know something?" Nikolai says. "My parents don't get it either. They've always supported me, but I'm not sure they've ever really understood my love for skating."

"At least they supported you," says Eden. "My parents want me to stop skating."

"Yeah, so I heard."

Nikolai glances down at the ice, where Beth-Anne has just returned and is now setting up her orange cones for the next class, which is a group of preschoolers. A different group than the one Gabriel Torres is in, he'd learned. Beth-Anne has two preschool groups, and this morning on the way to the rink she told him she's hoping that he'll be able to take over teaching one of them by autumn. He wonders if he will be.

"You know what I'm worried about?" Eden is saying.

"What is it?"

"I'm a kid. I'm not allowed to decide anything important. If my parents decide I have to stop skating, I'm gonna have to, and by the time I'm old enough to decide anything for myself, it's gonna be too late." He sighs, sounding far older than his ten years. "If Beth-Anne can't make them understand, my dream is basically dead. My parents are gonna kill it, and if that happens I don't know what I'm going to do with my life."

There are probably a thousand different responses Nikolai could make to this. He could say there's life beyond skating and that Eden's too young to stress about what to do with the rest of his life, or he could just offer some platitude about trying not to worry. But, he realizes he doesn't want to say any of that, because Eden is right.

If Eden's parents make him quit skating now, by the time he has the autonomy to make his own choices, it will be too late to be competitive in the way he clearly wants to be. Nikolai recognizes Eden's passion for the sport and his drive to succeed. It's the same energy and intensity Nikolai had; the same obsession that carried him to six top-three finishes at the World Championships, to his two Worlds gold medals, right up to the moment when he crash-landed in Taiwan.

No, it didn't end there, whispers a small, insistent voice in his mind. You still love the sport that much, and you can still succeed in it, just in a different way.

He turns to fully face Eden, who's starting up at him expectantly. "You know how I said I'd like to be your coach some day?"

"Yeah," Eden says.

"I meant that."

"I believed you," Eden tells him. "But, what's that got to do with my future if my parents make me give up skating? If I'm not skating, what'll I need a coach for?"

"Exactly," Nikolai says.

Eden looks perplexed. "This isn't helping."

"Don't worry," Nikolai says. "I am going to help you."

"How?"

"Your parents are worried about you getting hurt, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Eden confirms. "Like, all of a sudden, for some reason. It's not like I just started doing jumps or something. I could do a waltz jump when I was six and I did my first single jump when I was seven, and I fell loads of times before I got it right. My parents have seen me fall a bunch of times, but they never seemed too worried about it until this January or so."

"Maybe because it never occurred to them before that a fall could completely change your life."

"What do you mean?"

Nikolai gestures down at his leg. "I mean, it could literally change your life. I'm never going to compete again because I seriously hurt myself when fell at the Four Continents back in January."

"Wait..." Eden frowns, his delicate brows scrunching together in concentration. "You got hurt in January? Do you think my parents know anything about that?"

"I don't know," Nikolai says. "Your parents and I have never met. Do they watch competitions on TV or read sports news online?"

"They watch competitions with me sometimes, but I don't know if they watch stuff by themselves or look at anything on the internet. But... you don't think they're trying to make me stop skating because one person they don't even know got hurt, do you? 'Cause like, that's kind of stupid."

"To tell you the truth, I have no idea why they're trying to make you stop," Nikolai admits. "All I know is, somebody has to convince them that it's not a good idea."

"Somebody... like you?"

"Yeah, that's kind of what I had in mind."

"Really? You'd really do that for me? You don't even know me very well yet."

"Not yet, but I'd like us to get to know each other. Besides, you've got way too much talent to throw away your opportunities. Plus, I've seen you on the ice and it doesn't take a genius to know how happy you are when you're skating and how much you love it."

"I do love it," Eden says. "If skating was a person, I'd probably marry it."

"I thought you said you're not getting married."

"I'd make an exception for skating," Eden says. "You know, 'cause I'd want us to live happily ever after with all our medals."

"And you wouldn't complain about wet towels on the floor, or damp, stinky skate stockings?"

Eden giggles. "Maybe a little bit about the stockings. They do get pretty gross. Beth-Anne says when I get a little older, I won't have to wear them any more. She says I can just put my bare feet in my skates if I want to."

"That's pretty gross too, honestly," Nikolai says. "Trust me, I know. But, you'll be able to feel your edges better with nothing on your feet. That'll be important when you start competing."

"If I start competing."

"When," Nikolai repeats.

Eden hesitates for a beat, but then looks up to meet Nikolai's eyes and echoes. "When."

"Good," Nikolai praises him. "You have to believe in getting what you want. That's part of how you succeed."

"You're already coaching me," Eden says, sounding a little amazed. "You really did mean it."

"I'm not..." Nikolai begins, but then quickly realizes Eden isn't wrong.

How many talks has he had with Stan and Beth-Anne over the years about things only tangentially related to skating? Coaching is more than helping an athlete perfect his technical skills. It's also about helping him with his self-confidence and his overall attitude. It's about being a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a teacher about life as well as sport, a mentor, a confidant, a friend, and sometimes a disciplinarian. Beth-Anne has done all that for him and she's still doing it, and the thought that he's already able to pay her kindness and wisdom forward fills him with an emotion that feels like a mixture of astonishment and pride.

He smiles and offers, "You know what they say. Practice makes perfect."

Eden returns the smile. "I think you're going to be a super great coach, Nikolai."

"Thanks," he says.

"When my parents come to pick me up, you should tell them you're going to be my coach."

"I don't think—"

"Yeah, you should! You want to do it, and you said it's important to believe in getting what you want."

Nikolai grins. "So, you're obviously paying attention."

"I'm a great student," Eden says. "Anyway, the way I see it, you can't be a coach without a student, and Beth-Anne already said I'm gonna need a different coach when I get to Junior division, so I think we have to help each other get what we want."

"Okay," Nikolai says. "I'll talk to your parents when they come to get you, but maybe leave the strategy to me for now, all right?"

"Okay," Eden agrees. "This has got to work, though! With you and Beth-Anne both talking to them, they have to change their minds!"

Nikolai has to concede that Eden's enthusiasm is infectious, and he wants to be as optimistic as his potential future student, but he has the unfortunate reality of experience looming over his shoulder. He hopes the parents can be convinced to let their son continue skating, but he's enough of a realist to know that it may take more than the opinion of a stranger to sway them.

"Like I said before," he tells Eden. "I can't make any promises beyond promising to do my best."

Eden reaches over and pats his hand. "I believe in you."

Unexpectedly, Nikolai feels a lump in his throat. He barely knows this kid, but for some reason he already feels a connection with him.

Is this how Beth-Anne felt about me that first day? he wonders. He files the idea away so he can ask her about it later.

His very next thought is, I cannot let this child down.

He has no clue how he's going to do it, but somehow he has to make Eden's parents understand what's at stake. It's not just competitions and medals. It's Eden's well-being, his sense of purpose. His raison d'être, as Anya's coach Isabelle might say.

Nikolai remembers how he'd felt, hearing the doctors in Taiwan saying that he'd never skate again. To say his very soul had been crushed wouldn't be enough. It'd been as if his entire world shattered into a million pieces around him. He'd barely been able to survive that, and maybe he's not completely out of the proverbial woods yet. If it's this difficult for an adult, he shudders to think of what losing something so important would do to a young boy like Eden.

And what sort of second chance would Eden get? Unlike Nikolai, he doesn't have a new opportunity waiting for him to transition into.

Nikolai recognizes he's lucky. Coaching is a natural progression for him, especially with the knowledge that he'll be able to return to the ice soon and with Beth-Anne ready and willing to train him. It all became more tangible when his doctor here told him that not only would he make a full recovery but that he'd still be able to skate. His aching heart had swelled with hope at that news.

Now, it's growing again with a new surge of determination. He wants to succeed for Eden, but even more so for himself. The future doesn't seem as bleak and scary any more, and he wants more than anything to make it evolve into a scenario in which he isn't merely settled and unafraid, but happy, thriving and fearless once again.

[midnights-dragon]

I see you like good omens and hozier... Whats your favorite hozier lyric(s) in relation to az (i cannot spell his name) and crowley :)

Oh god why would you do this to me /pos

Hrngg I refuse to pick one favorite. I have several. You will regret asking me this.

Okay. Well. So.

First and foremost, from I Carrion, Icarian. This song has always struck me as VERY Crowley-coded in general, specifically with its references to Falling, but these lyrics just punch me in the gut in relation to him; it very much reads as Crowley finding hope anew in Aziraphale after his Fall, finding something to be his home now that Heaven is gone to him; finding all of that in the angel he met on the wall of Eden.

And though I burn, how could I Fall? / When I am lifted by every word you say to me / If anything could fall at all, it's the world / That falls away from me

And then we have Unknown / Nth. UGH. Y'all. This song makes me bawl. These lyrics in particular sing to me as if it is Aziraphale reminiscing over how happy Crowley was as an angel, and how different he is as a demon; how far he is from his stars, and how much that makes his own light dim.

You called me angel for the first time, / My heart leapt from me / You smile now, I can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth / And what's left of it, I listen to it tick / Every tedious beat going unknown as any angel to me

These lyrics, contrastingly, sing to me like Crowley, doing anything and everything for Aziraphale and never asking for anything in return. And yet still feeling like he can't measure up to what HE believes is Aziraphale's idealized version of him; when, truly, the only thing Aziraphale wants back from Crowley's angel self, is for him to be happy again. To give him back the stars. (By the way - go look up the true meaning of this song, it's astounding.)

That I'd walk so far just to take / The injury of finally knowing you

SHRIKE. Y'all I have so so SO many feelings about this song but these lyrics. THESE LYRICS. They just SCREAM Crowley's confession. The words hung above / But never would form especially, and him feeling like it is his final cry to get Aziraphale to see how much he loves him, and how much he is begging him to stay, to be an us. And when Aziraphale 'forgives' him, Crowley becomes the shrike.

Coincidentally, shrikes are frequent hunters of serpents; as if Crowley is the shrike to his own serpent, and to Aziraphale's thorn. Impaling himself on it to be the shrike he THINKS Aziraphale wants. It's devastating.

The words hung above / But never would form / Like a cry at the final / Breath that is drawn / Remember me, love / When I'm reborn / As the shrike to your sharp / And glorious thorn

All Things End. THE final fifteen song. THE Crowley confession song, and THE KISS song. The EVERY song. Every lyric just screams Nothing Lasts Forever. They have never known a silence like the one fallen over them; they have never watched their futures darken in a single tear; they want it to go easy by being somebody's fault, but they've gone long enough to know that isn't what they want.

Just ... God, that entire song. It strikes right to the gut, and it is absolutely destructive in that way.

I have never known a silence like the one fallen here / Never watched my future darken in a single tear / I know we want this to go easy by being somebody's fault / But we've gone long enough to know this isn't what we want / And that isn't always bad / When people say that something is forever / Either way, it ends

Finally (even though I could go on and on and ON), we of course have Too Sweet, which Hozier arguably wrote while talking to a depressed, divorced Crowley in a bar. I don't even have a specific lyric; that entire song was sung by Crowley about Aziraphale, full stop. It's Hozier's version of Somebody To Love by Queen.

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK it was absolutely tortuous and I enjoyed every second of answering it. <3 I'm so glad you liked my quiz!

[watermelonsugacry]

Hi, I saw that in the princess era you said that 1dbandmate!yn wrote secret songs and sold them to other artists, and since this is a fanfic I imagine her writing songs like Girl Crush from Little Big Town and selling them, If Only by Dove Cameron or writing Camila Cabello's Bad Kind of Butterflies around the time she was dating Matthew. After all that I just wanted to ask what songs would you say she wrote and sold. (Sorry if anything is incoherent, English is not my first language)

Anon: You said 1dbandmate!yn wrote secret love songs and sold them to other artists, could we know what some of those songs were?? Please 🙏🙏🙏

oooh fun ok ok so let's break down a few of them

Girl Crush by Little Big Town

written 2013, sold in 2015

this was during the time when H was dating Taylor Swift

the first time YN truly felt that she was losing him in someway (we all know that's not gonna happen)

realizing for the first time that she likes H more than just a friend/band mate

I want to taste her lips

Yeah, 'cause they taste like you

I want to drown myself

In a bottle of her perfume

I want her long blond hair

I want her magic touch

Yeah, 'cause maybe then

You'd want me just as much

Bad Kind of Butterflies by Camila Cabello

I actually was inspired by this song to write this blurb but i have an idea for another blurb along the lines of the song

written 2014, sold in 2015

wouldn't label this as a love song per say but i definitely agree that it was around the time she was dating Matthew

What do I do when I love you

And want somebody else?

What do I lose if I don't choose

And keep it to myself?

Bad, bad butterflies in my chest

There's something I gotta confess

Yes, somebody's stuck in my head

And I, and I

overall feeling a mix of confusion and guilt for staying with Matthew when she has H on her mind 24/7

Strangers By Nature by Adele

written in 2014, sold in 2020

I'll be taking flowers to the cemetery of my heart

For all of my lovers in the present and in the dark

directing the "lovers" towards Matthew as her present and her secret love for H

When no one knows what it's like to be us

Strangers by nature

her expressing that no one truly knows what it's like to be in love with someone but forced to be apart -> "us" being her and H

since they can't be together (or at least be given the chance to be together) by their management, they have to act like friends

to YN acting like strangers is better than being in love

In My Life (Wallis Bird cover version)

written and sold in 2015

still trying to figure out her feelings

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

In my life I love you more

trying out the words "i love you" and seeing how they taste.

Say My Name by Prince of Eden

written in 2017 & 2021, sold in 2021

You made a reason

And my hearts been beating since

And baby

Would you believe me if I said you make me crazy?

Oh, the way you say my name, I'm all over the place

She's way too embarrassed to admit to anyone, let alone herself, about the way Harry makes her feel

I like the way you say my name with the warmest embrace

I like the way it shoots me far out in the nothing of space

Oh, the way you say my name's like the sweetest of tastes

I like the way, I like the way, oh, I love the way

How many days in

With that fire blazing? Yeah

You found a way in

And my hearts been beating since

they've been together for so long (both as a couple and when they weren't) they she's in disbelief at the fact that he still makes her feel giddy and bubbly when he says her name

I Wish I Was The Moon by Ewan J Phillips

written and sold in 2018

during one of the first "off" periods of their on and off relationship

like Cherry, it's one of her 'pathetic' songs

Oh, I wish I was the moon

So that I might be with you

One more time

I wish I can disappear

'Cause I know I can't stay here

With or without you

When I'm Loving You by Yianna

written and sold in 2019

written when YN realized that she really loves H and wants to be with him for the rest of her life (still didn't want to admit it to anyone though)

There's something you gotta know

'Cause I been keeping my feelings deep inside

Ever since I saw your face

My whole world's been changing;

I've been rearranging the songs I sing, 

I used to see in shades of grey

But then color came through the second I saw you

And now here we are skin to skin

I never thought we would,

But you said that we should just take a chance

Malibu by Miley Cyrus

also written during the making of Fine Line

this song is so good with so many album references so strap in

But you brought me here and I'm happy that you did

'Cause now I'm as free as birds catching the wind

later on to become one of the many blue bird references in Harry's House

And sometimes I get so scared of what I can't understand

Hoping I just stay the same and nothing will change

And it'll be us, just for a while

Do we even exist?

That's when I make the wish

To swim away with the fish

Adore You fish reference

I never would've believed you

If three years ago you told me

I'd be here writing this song

But here I am

just her being in disbelief of being in love with him

realizing she's acting like a love sick idiot writing sappy love songs

Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning and you're there to save me

And I wanna thank you with all of my heart

It's a brand new start

A dream come true

In Malibu

Falling reference with the drowning

SINCE 2010 masterlist

All of these songs can be found here too!

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead

[thesherrinfordfacility]

i need to have a little heartbreak rant bc this was something i noticed in a rewatch the other day and i had to sit on it for a while before i could articulate why it broke my heart so much

it all starts with the first conversation on the wall, crowley has just transformed into his human shape and says the "well, that went down like a lead balloon" line:

(edit: this post is so long in hindsight that I will in fact put it under a cut BUT there are no spoilers in here i promise, we condemn Trojan tactics in this house of the lord)

so when he gets to the end of the line, he lays on the sarcasm, and couples it with a soft eyebrow raise and looks away from not aziraphale, but from adam and eve, away from the whole situation that he's created... (tried to capture it in the gif but it's so quick)

there are a few reasons why this stood out to me, and a couple are things that people have touched on in other posts but i'm going to ramble anyway

he doesn't even look at aziraphale, doesn't even give him the courtesy of a nod or a glance to acknowledge his presence... and yet crowley could have gone anywhere in the garden, or outside of it, let alone on the top of it, and even less right next to aziraphale. it just suddenly struck me the depth of which i think crowley may possibly have been lonely or, possibly more in line with his character, he just wanted to remark on it to someone, even if he's not expecting a meaningful response, because he fell just for asking questions or in general questioning Things, and is still feeling the effects of being damned for it (whether that was thousands of years before the garden existed, or immediately before he came into Eden, whichever way you look at it). so coming up to aziraphale, this lone angel on this wall of whom he presumably knows nothing about, was such a risk on his part, made him extremely vulnerable, but he just needed to talk to somebody, to comment on it and just possibly, maybe have a response, even if it's out of pity or curiosity on the angel's part. he'll take whatever he can get, but is expecting absolutely nothing

the choice of words and how it's delivered also seemed really deliberate. he could have laid on the sarcasm reaaaally thick, or been a bit of a knob and laughed about (ie at the humans' and god/angels' expense) but he didn't. he almost seems like he's chastising himself for it. its the kind of way you'd say it if you were a teenager that's pissed off your parents for an unknown reason and they won't explain it to you, won't have a conversation with you to help you understand why they reacted the way they did, and what you did to upset them (god is NOT a gentle parent-er let's be real). hes done something that he suspects might be wrong (or right, which is wrong...?), but seems like it was right (or at least for the right reasons?), and it's had consequences that he doesn't quite yet understand and noone has explained to him. he essentially still acts like a traumatised child walking on eggshells, immediately self deprecating and self critical, because he might have done something that will upset their mum but their mum won't communicate what exactly it was that was wrong and goes into a rage anyway. to me it even feels like he's disappointed himself in doing something, yet again, that is rooted in free will but feels like he's about to be shouted at and punished for it, even sounds like he's resigned himself to whatever repurcussions will come from it... i mean, he's already Fallen, what more could they possibly do to him?

and then we have aziraphale's response. he actually responds to crowley, and its not just a hmm or a non committal agreement. aziraphale either misheard, or was too distracted by his own inner turmoil that he wasnt concentrating on what crowley said. so he asks him to repeat it. he engages him in a conversation that truly indicates that he might have been interested in what crowley had to say. that crowley might have said something worth hearing, or actually be someone worth listening to. aziraphale obviously knows Crowley is a demon (if the snake form and the clothes/wings didn't give it away, aziraphale would have sensed it regardless), and yet still thinks him worthy of a response, or being spoken to like he's an actual person, not just a demon of no consequence or value. yes in part this just shows aziraphale's unwavering kindness and compassion (a whole different post), but the way that crowley immediately feels like he can reiterate and clarify what he just said speaks volumes to how comfortable he suddenly is in aziraphale's presence and under his scrutiny:

(cont'd) his expression opens up, he looks aziraphale in the eye and repeats something that could be taken the wrong way, that could result in crowley being obliterated even further... but still remains a little guarded and almost like he's forcing himself to relax/be open and polite...it's like he somehow knows something bad isn't going to happen. this i think is compounded by the fact that crowley goes on to elaborate in the scene that he's not sure on the difference between good and evil, and says it almost conspiratorially - back to his old inability to stop himself from questioning everything, unable to stop being curious about it all, and of all people he feels immediately comfortable enough to ask aziraphale, as if aziraphale might have an answer or that aziraphale may be in his kindred and have the same kind of thoughts. ultimately the only reason you ask questions is to get an answer and this time, even if it's not a response crowley agreed with, someone was kind and decent enough to give him a valid answer without damning judgement or punishment in the absence of said answer.

It really does just make me wonder with a good deal of despair how much of crowley might be broken by this point, and in contrast how much he actually heals over the next 6000ish years... that is a whole lot of painful trauma to work through, and as time goes on we see crowley become more outspoken and less guarded with his words and more importantly his questions, seeking aziraphale out on purpose in mesopotamia and golgotha, questioning god's will and actions yet again, because he just can't understand why. the fact that he continues to ask questions to aziraphale speaks volumes of how much he trusts him to give him an answer, and not to hurt him for asking in the first place.

i know that there has been some wonderful fic out there that has touched on the themes of crowley displaying similar characteristics to an abused, traumatised, lonely child, but i honestly think this is the scene where we really see it, and that a five second introduction to aziraphale, someone so compassionate and kind that he let crowley ask him questions without judgement or derision, helps us see a glimpse of crowley's emotional and mental rock bottom... and therefore how far he's come since that day on the wall of eden

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Ecstasy [04]

ー The scene starts in Kino’s manor

Yui: Haah...

( I guess it’s because of what he said, but lately I can’t seem to get Kino-kun off my mind... )

( Kino-kun still likes to take every opportunity given to him to tease me after allーー )

( ...But I am kind of happy he’s been nicer to me than he was before. )

( I wonder how I should go about interacting with him from here on out? )

*Thud* 

Yui: ( I can’t seem to make up my mind... I wish I could just empty my brain... )

ー She closes her eyes

Yui: ( I wonder if I can get a break from thinking...if I just fall asleep right here, right nowーー...? )

...

ー Yui dozes off as somebody approaches her

???: ーー Oh? She’s asleep. Honestly, this girl has some nerve, making me look around for her.

On top of that, she’s leaving her completely vulnerable. She’s basically asking me to assault her, no?

*Creaaak* 

Yui: Uhnーー...

( Heavy...How...? )

???: Come on, wake up already.

Yui: Hm...?

ー Yui wakes up again

Kino: You’re finally awake. You’re pretty stubborn, being able to stay asleep while someone’s laying on top of you. 

Yui: Kyah!?

( H-He’s close! What’s going on? )

M-Move away?

Kino: Don’t wannaー ...Anyway, don’t you think you’re a little too defenseless? 

What would you have done if it wasn’t me, but someone else who approached you?

Yui: What, you askーー...? 

Kino: Would you let another guy do this to you as well? 

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ...!

( He’s stroking my nape...! )

Kino: I can’t let anyone else ーー touch your skin like this! 

*Thud* 

Yui: Ahーー!

Kino: ーー Say, apologize to me. Say that you’re sorry from the bottom of your heart?

Selection

→ I-I’m sorry... (M)

Yui: I-I’m sorry...

Kino: I have to give you credit for doing as I said and apologizing, but why exactly are you saying sorry?

Yui: Eh...?

Kino: I don’t want to hear an empty apologzy. Say, what are you apologizing for?

Yui: W-Well...

Kino: Heeh, you realized I was upset so you just apologized for the timebeing, huh? I guess your ‘sorry’ doesn’t actually mean much.

Yui: ...

Kino: Listen carefully. You committed two sins. First, you slept defenseless out in the open. 

And secondly, you ignored me. That one is going to cost you!

Yui: Ehーー? N-No way...

→ Why? (S)

Yui: Why?

Kino: Why, you ask? Because you did something bad. 

What would you have done if someone decided to attack you while you were sleeping defenselessly? 

Yui: As if that would ever happen. 

Kino: I’m having trouble believing that. I mean, that’s exaclty what I’m doing right now, isn’t it? 

Yui: Uu...

Kino: You’re way too ignorant to just how vulnerable you actually are. ...Haahー I’m at a loss for words. 

Besides, don’t you think you have some nerve to completely ignore me and go take a nap?

Yui: I mean...!

Kino: ...You see. I always think of you, no matter what I do, but I guess the same can’t be said for you...

Yui: Kino-kun...

( ...Is he upset, perhaps? )

As of late...You’ve been constantly on my mind as well. 

I couldn’t stop thinking of you earlier either, so I figured I’d get some sleep to calm myself down.

Kino: ...Oh, is that so? I didn’t know that. ...Fufu. 

But if that was the case, you should have just come see me.

Yui: But...

Kino: Why not? Let me take over your mind.

...Or rather, I don’t want you to think of anything or anyone but meーー

*Rustle* 

Yui: Eh...?

Kino: I’ll give you a taste of pain, so you’ll only ever be able to think of me. ーー Nnh...

ー Kino bites her

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: Ah...!

Kino: Nn...Make sure to remember it well, okay...? ーー This pain...Phew...Nnーー

Yui: ( Kino...kun... )

Kino: Yuiーー ...Nnh...

*Rustle rustle*

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[memestockpile]

cheers from the 1982-93 tv series. feel free to change as needed.

you know, buddy, this is a bar. if you want to make polite conversation: take it outside.

men. they’re so stupid.

the soup was so hot it set off the sprinkler system. 

well, what else can i do around here that i’m great at?

are you on the sauce again?

hit the bricks, pal.

the cologne you always wear is totally without nuance.

if you can’t say it in front of me, don’t say it, at all.

a lady does not ask her chauffeur how much he stole from her dead husband. 

don’t toy with my emotions. 

i described you in terms which were positively glowing, which is the way i’d like to see you in hell. 

if you can’t say anything nice, say it about [name]. 

yeah, personally, i say good riddance.

i hate you with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. 

never trust a man who can’t look you in the eye, never talk when you can listen, and never spend venture capital on a limited partnership without a detailed analytical fiduciary prospectus. 

you automatically spring to mind when i hear something stupid. 

it’s all cobwebby down there. 

she’s got ta-tas til monday afternoon at least.

go mate with a squid.

i don’t like the idea of somebody else plucking my pigeons.

shut up! we’re celebrating!

one murder does not a murderer make.

i succumb too easily to the pleasures of the flesh. 

you must be an idiot savant. 

do you make a drink for failures?

you know me, daddy cool. 

on behalf of intelligent women around the world, may i just say: phew!

life sucks. 

everything we strive for comes to nothing. 

don’t impose gender roles on me. 

face it: you’re a bunch of losers. 

if ignorance is bliss, this is eden. 

let me tell you something, [nickname]: when you’re eighty-seven, you’ll still be a hunk to me.

this would make a great bar story. 

you want to hear a scary story? i’ll tell you a scary story. my life, that’s a scary story. 

oh, how would you know you’re stupid?

you actually have to go with someone before you can get dumped.

i never heard you talk like this before.

oh, c’mon, honey.

oh, dear me, my worst fears are confirmed. 

let’s open up this discussion a little bit: what’s your name, son?

do you know the difference between you and a fat braying ass? the fat braying ass would. 

come on, man. don’t tell me you keep your money in your shoe.

why would she be carrying a dead rat in her purse?

i don’t want your money. besides, if i did, i could take it.

i got an attic you can hang upside-down in. 

oh, yuck! oh, i have to punish my tongue!

i’m scientifically handy.

boy, you guys really do think i just fell off the turnip truck.

your hormones have staged a coup d’etat on your brain.

oooh, a completely unprovoked personal attack. i like it!

you’re the most beautiful kid in the whole world. 

you squealed on me?

i’m a student, not just in an academic sense, but a student of life. 

where better than here to study life in all its many facets?

people meet in bars. they part. they rejoice. they suffer. they come here to be with their own kind.

you know, i think i’m falling in love with you.

i’d like to speak to the person in change of female dehumanization. 

i said that i wouldn’t call you stupid while we’re being intimate. 

i found holes in the pool table. 

[name] and i have decided we’re going to start messing around.

well, my dear friends, i want no part of it!

i certainly hope not. i’d like to think i was special.

if brains were money, you’d have to take out a loan for a cup of coffee. 

i’m tired of wasting my time and cleavage on him. 

we always get into so much trouble when we talk. let’s not. let’s just...do. 

a thirsty guy walks into a bar. you finish it. 

when the right dame comes along, you’ll know it.

if it’s true that a little knowledge is dangerous, you are a walking time bomb.

it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and i’m wearing milkbone underwear. 

if you ever open that gateway to hell you call a mouth in my direction again, i’ll snap off your extremities like dead branches and feed them to you at gunpoint.

what’s the point of winning if you can’t humiliate the other team?

after several hours of careful deliberation and weighing all of the consequences, i have decided to be playful.

i don’t know what a duvet is or what it’s supposed to cover!

he’s overcompensating for feelings of inadequacy with an ostentatious display of hormonal activity.

you know, darth vader cannot be luke skywalker’s father. they don’t have the same last name.

how would you like to take a flying leap off of a knuckle sandwich?

philly’s a dull town.

my brain must be full, now, ‘cause my hair hurts. 

thank you for the opportunity of knowing your dog. 

you’re a dink, a wimp, a thread, a loser.

your big drug companies don’t want you to find out about leeches. you know why? leeches are free.

go home and tell your mother you’re a flop.

you’re a magnificent pagan beast.

hey, c’mon, i’m smoking in any jacket.

i always meant to tell you that.

you did the right thing. you were noble.

bless the postal system and keep it from harm.

who is the biggest bigwig of them all?

i usually assume people are gay until i find out they’re not. sometimes we find out together.

bars don’t turn gay overnight.

yeah, that’s what they say: war is gross.

anybody with half a brain can see through his petty little scams and tricks.

it’s atrabilious, yet not a bit lugubrious. 

you’re dead meat on a stick. 

you don’t use a fork with soup!

perhaps on the isle of lesbos.

good news! i finally found a woman.

this country’s gone to heck in a handcart.

you should feel sorry for the flintstones.

you’re just gonna have to become a communist.

i think you should judge people for what they do, not for who they do.

it just seemed gauche.

my life is devoid of pleasure.

you think i don’t know what noodles mean in sexual lingo?

oh, step into the eighties. 

it moves me deeply to move you deeply.

now you’re saying that i’m redundant, that i repeat myself, that i say things over and over.

that’s the only line of shakespeare i ever understood. 

where is he? i’ll straighten him out.

anyone ever tell you you have a cute forehead?

i feel a cry coming on.

this is probably one of those things that we should just keep between the two of us, don’t you think?

you know, i like you, you’re a smart cookie.

i...feel...bad.

high praise from a man who thinks mashed potatoes are finger food.

you ever had a pot of chili fly by your face at the speed of light?

everything i do, everywhere i go, everything i see reminds me of her.

we don’t only eat cheese, we talk about eating cheese.

he wants to know if you boinked her, you dink.

whoever owns a honda, thanks for the lift.

i’m in far too fragile a condition. 

maybe i do tend to be a little uptight at times.

c’mon, if he was a great artist, what’s he doing alive, huh?

i’d hate to be the second member of my family buried alive by potatoes. 

just about time this old cowpoke moseyed off to the bathroom.

get your coat. we’re going dancing!

nothing’s ever obvious to me.

you know how i like to read between the lines. 

no guy touches my belly unless he’s paying for dinner.

thou lookest ridiculous. 

boy, am i exhausted.

tell you what, i bet you a dime i can drink that drink without touching the hat.

as sure as corn chiggers in august. 

i pictured you moving to a little home in the country with a rose garden out in the front and a nice little room in the back for me. 

that’s what comes from working with your hands. 

i, for one, am proud you licked it, [nickname]. 

mayday, mayday, mayday. 

i dreamed that i had insomnia all night.

forgive me for losing my academic demeanor for a few moments -- oh, yippee!

must have been hell.

for your information, my head is not flat.

oh, i’d gladly ask my parents. of course, they’re dead.

damn tropical drinks. 

you look like a large-mouth bass. 

farm boys love their halloween!

oh? couldn’t make summa? 

yes, i think we both know. 

i ever tell you about the first thanksgiving? yeah, it took place, uh, between the ancient egyptians and astronauts from a distant galaxy. 

hello, duckling. 

what could be more enjoyable than opening your heart with holiday cheer?

man, you punch a couple of guys out at a funeral, and everybody’s on your case.

i mean, i understand going out with two babes at one time.

i don’t want to talk. uh, i want to watch television. 

you haven’t lived until you seen bonanza dubbed into french canadian.

we’re gonna have to sober you up, sweetheart.

you’re just the guy i’ve been looking for. 

holy cow!

you like corn on the cob?

whew! you are so cranky when you’re naked.

don’t show fear. he smells fear.

just give me a whiskey, punk.

wait a minute, am i being hustled here?

well, there’s a shock, sex boy.

i find it also helps to listen to heavy doses of creedence clearwater revival. 

what do you want me to do? go back there, strip naked, and gyrate to funky cold medina?

you have absolutely nothing anyone could possibly envy or resent.

i mean, i worked all my life to get this mean. now you’re telling me i have to learn nice?

loneliness is a good thing to share with somebody. 

you’re a flimflam. 

i’m practicing my floating coin trick. 

here’s the ten bucks i’m gonna owe you in about five minutes.

i’ve always had a soft spot for you lunkheads.

[forthisone]

Thoughts after finishing Season 5 of The Handmaid’s Tale last night.

This show hits different now I am a mother. Especially Episode 7, oof.

So these are fresh thoughts after watching the season over a couple of weeks. I haven’t really digested the season yet, haven’t read any commentary etc.

Firstly, I found this season so much easier to watch and less gratuitous, thank you S5 gods for that. Obviously there’s still so much trauma and pain going on but thank you for not subjecting me to multiple torture and rape scenes this season.

Serena

I didn’t hate the Serena stuff. I think probably because I’m fresh out of pregnancy/childbirth… still breastfeeding, etc. They showed how June as a mum (showing concern for Noah’s welfare) trumped the June that hates Serena to death and I liked that. Mothers are powerful. I also appreciated Serena with The Wheelers having a firsthand taste of a slight glimmer of what June had experienced with the Waterfords (obviously not as bad but the panic and fear and anger was there). I’m glad it seems to have finally humbled her and made her realise how fucked up it all was. Like we all thought she got there in 2.13 when she let Nichole go but now she FINALLY IS THERE. As a new mum, I have enjoyed Serena’s arc this season. I can’t think of anything worse than someone keeping me separate from my one month old telling me that they are letting them cry it out all day and night.

Idk I think I just forgot it was Serena honestly and enjoyed the portrayal of a new mum fighting for her baby.

Nick

Oooookay. Lots to unpack.

So when I saw the Rose reveal in episode 1 I was kind of relieved because it seemed like they were kind of friends and maybe Nick wasn’t as trapped as he felt with Eden. Which I think was true. But I would have been a lot more interested to understand their relationship a bit better. I have a lot of question marks still, ten episodes and they barely explored it. That line one of the Wives gives about something genetic inherited with the baby? That was weird. Is that alluding to the future? Or was that just a Wife being a dick, unsure.

Also, the Nick I know and love would never have wished for June to take up Lawrence’s offer of New Bethlehem. The scene in 5.09 was just weird for me. It was like the dodgy uncle of the magic we got in 4.09. Was it the same location too? Maybe?

Still waiting for the scene of Nick having a good cry and I feel they missed a trick with the hospital room scene. We are never going to get it, are we?

Basically my favourite Nick scene of the whole season was Tuello on the bridge with Nick

where he asked about running away with her (ps. I feel like they keep nodding to this “running away together” line and I am here for it, please God let this be a nod to the future? When Nick said “I’m nothing.” And Tuello replies “Not to her.” … god damn if that didn’t tap into my feels from the scene that made this ship an OTP for me. The hospital corridor kids scene in 2.07 where June says “What about you?” and Nick kisses her because just once he feels like somebody to someone.

Also how beautiful was it that he just wanted to see her and kiss her head at the hospital and then essentially that’s all he needs to sign his life away.

I don’t understand why Nick punched Lawrence really (I mean, I understand, but I feel like out of everything, he would have had time after seeing June to regain his composure and put the mask back up). But I can only hope it was in Nick’s plan. Maybe he wants to get transferred somewhere else? Closer to Hannah so he can pass Tuello info? He knows Lawrence owes him a pardon?

Then again I feel like maybe he just finally lost his shit which is understandable. I just didn’t expect it to happen that way. My man is smarter than punching a Commander in front of a room of other Commanders. He knows how to get revenge more subtly. No? Maybe not when it comes to June.

I loved that June thought about Nick before they left the train. Telling Tuello to let him know she and Nichole are safe.

Update: after sleeping on it and speaking to a couple of others, I’ve realised he’s just absolutely done and he doesn’t care about the mask slipping anymore. I don’t think it was impulsive per se as it took a long drive to get to Lawrence’s.

I am interested for where this will take Nick next season but I sincerely sincerrreeely hope he and Janine break out of Eye HQ and start fucking shit up.

Luke and Luke/June

I mean. I’m a Nick fan so. You know. I struggled with the Luke/June stuff this season. It felt a bit like a reversal of where we had got to with Season 4. I’m kind of over the love triangle to be honest but I get that Luke is in her life. He’s not going to disappear. She will always love him. I just felt confused as to where June’s head is at, whereas I didn’t by the end of Season 4. It feels like wasted time.

The scene in 5.9 where he grabbed her to stop her meltdown and she’s like “Please let me go.” I think was telling.

When Luke said in episode 6 “I wish I could have been the guy to come and get you out” HI NICK BLAINE. Oh how I wished he would have showed up and got them out.

I guess Luke kind of did do that in the finale. He got them out. Yeah I’m not the biggest Luke hater, I just see him as sort of Your Average Joe but not right for June anymore. Obviously. But he stepped up a bit in 5.10. At least he saved her from being killed.

Moira

Samira Wiley has been criminally under used this season, that is all. I feel like the writers forgot that Moira was a) a Jezebel and b) also killed a Commander to escape Gilead… so why is she having so much trouble relating to June?

Hannah

I wish they’d got Hannah out and Season 6 could be more about the healing and the aftermath. For all the characters really. I felt June’s pain at taking any opportunity to be near her daughter. I’d be tempted by New Bethlehem too, as mad as that sounds to me. I get it. That whole concept was weird though. And I fear it will reappear in Season 6 and I don’t want it.

Those are main thoughts now. 11pm and I’ve just finished the season.

It felt good to binge a season again, I haven’t done that since Season Two. I think watching the season in one go is better than enduring crumbs slowly week by week.

I’m wondering now if Season 6 can possibly do all I want it too but I’ll gather my wishes for the final season in another post.

What is Nick’s end of the bargain for Tuello letting him see June in hospital? Obviously inside knowledge but how will he get that knowledge now he has exposed himself in Gilead?

[snappedsky]

Borderlands: Skies the Bodyguard 5

The Calypsos’ livestream has a surprise guest host.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

Chapter 20

           “They’re gone!?” Lilith exclaims.

           “Affirmative,” Moze replies. She and the other Vault Hunters are at the entrance to the Great Vault, where Troy and Tyreen were supposed to be, and talking to Lilith through their ECHO communicators. “There’s no sign of them here.”

           “Could they have ran when we cut off their Eridium supply?” Ava suggests, in the bridge of Sanctuary III with Lilith, Tannis, and Claptrap.

           “That seems unlikely,” Tannis replies, “they’re not the type to just give up.”

           “But then what happened?” Lilith questions.

           “Incoming transmission!” Claptrap suddenly announces, “from Timothy Lawrence.”

           “Him? What’s he want?” Lilith asks. “Put it through.”

           A hologram appears overhead of Timothy. He immediately tenses up and smiles awkwardly. “Ah, h-hey, Lilith. It’s Timothy. Remember me?”

           “Yes, I remember,” she replies impatiently. “What do you want?”

           “Uh, sorry to bother, I just have a question,” he says, “um…do you know where Skies is?”

           “Skies?”

           “Well, it’s just…she left me this message and now she’s not answering,” Timothy explains worriedly, “I just…I think she might have done something…dangerous.”

           “Perhaps she’s responsible for the disappearance of the Calypsos,” Tannis suggests.

           “Oh, actually,” he replies, “she did mention before that she…hypothetically…might have some way of defeating the Calypsos. But she seemed really apprehensive about it.”

           “She also mentioned to me that she had some kind of plan,” Tannis adds, “but she didn’t elaborate.”

           “What is she up to?” Lilith muses. “We’ll watch out for her, Timothy, and let you know if we find anything.”            “Thank you,” he nods appreciatively and hangs up.

           “Did Skies go up against the Calypsos without us?” Ava asks.

           “It seems likely,” Tannis replies.

           “But then where is she? What happened?”

           Before anyone can reply, all of their ECHO devices chime with a live video.

           “It’s a new COV video!” Claptrap exclaims.

           “The Calypsos?” Ava questions.

           Across the galaxy, everyone tunes in to the new video. All the denizens of Sanctuary III; Rhys, Zer0, and Lorelai on Promethea; Hammerlock and Wainwright on Eden-6; Vaughn, the Vault Hunters, and Tina and Brick and Mordecai on Pandora; and Timothy in his apartment. They all wait apprehensively as it loads.

           It opens up to Troy. He’s in some kind of darkened room, doubled over on his knees. His face is contorted in pain and covered in sweat and his robot arm is clutching his side while the rest of his body is tense as if bound in some way. He’s glaring at someone behind the camera with exhausted defiance.

           “Now turn the camera to me,” somebody orders in a male, charming- some might even say ‘handsome’- voice. It sends shivers down the spines of all who recognize it.  

          The camera turns around to a mask of Handsome Jack, being held by someone out of frame. “Hellooooo, galaxy!” his voice sings, “we interrupt your regularly scheduled COV bullshit to bring you…”

           The mask is dropped to reveal Skies’ face and she lowers her ECHO device which was disguising her voice. “Me!”

           All viewers gasp with surprises as she giggles and the camera zooms out to get a full shot. “That is way too much fun. For those of you who don’t know me- which I’m hoping isn’t too many- I’m Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter.”

           “Now, I’m sure you loyal listeners out there are wondering what the hell I’m doing here and just how I turned your so-called ‘God King’ Troy into my little boy toy,” she says as she walks around to where Troy is kneeling, and pats his head. He growls defiantly but is unable to do much else. “Well, to fully explain all that, I hope you will indulge me on a short history lesson. And seeing as how you’ve listened to these two go on about obnoxious crap for hours, that shouldn’t be a problem. Just consider me a guest host.”            “Now, Tyreen and Troy weren’t the first to try and use the Vaults to become gods,” Skies explains, “about seven years ago, there was Handsome Jack. I’m sure most of you out there will know he was CEO of Hyperion. Others will know what an absolute asshole he was. None alive now were quite as close to him as I was.”

          “He intended to use the Vault of the Warrior to purge Pandora and rule the galaxy. He failed, of course, because that’s what happens to villains. They fail. I know this because I also failed.”

           “But I still live!” She spreads her arms victoriously. “And Jack’s legacy lives on with me, because I have this.” She shows her Handsome Jack mask. “And I have made it my goal to use Jack’s legacy as much as I can for good, to make up for all the evil I did while I was with him.”

           “I don’t just own some fake Handsome Jack mask,” she explains, “I have the real deal that he wore on his stupid, chiseled face. And it wasn’t just used to hide an embarrassing scar. It hides so many secrets inside its artificial flesh. Like the long-lost rights to Hyperion, making its owner the CEO. Or blueprints to a special holding cell made specifically for Sirens. Or fast travel codes to such a holding cell that was already built. Or even digistruct codes for a special collar made to control Sirens.”

           “And that’s what we have here.” Skies kneels down so she’s level with Troy and lifts his head to show off the glowing-purple, metal collar around his neck. “When powered up with Eridium, this collar turns Sirens into Jack’s personal little dolls. The only hitch there being that Jack is dead, and the collar only responds to his voice. But of course making a voice modulator is easy enough.” She lifts her ECHO device to her mouth and Jack’s voice comes out. “Especially for someone who loved the sound of his own voice.”

           She lowers her ECHO as she sighs, leaning against Troy. “But what’s the point, I hear you asking? Why not just kill Troy now that he’s next to useless? Why have I subjected to you to my babbling? Well, that’s very simple.”

           Skies grabs the camera and pulls it in close to her dark glare. “Tyreen, I’m calling you out.”

           “Your brother is my hostage. Right now we are locked away in an impenetrable fortress that can only be accessed one of two ways. Either you have Jack’s exact DNA and voice and know the access password- and I know only one person alive has all of that and he better stay the hell away. Or you can phase through the walls with, say, stolen Siren abilities.”

           “If you care about your brother at all, or just don’t want to be considered a coward by your followers- I’m betting the latter- you’ll come face me,” Skies challenges. “I’ll give you one hour. If you don’t show up, I’ll have my Troy toy here do a livestream of his corpse after I shoot it. We’ll be waiting.”

         Skies wraps her arm around Troy’s neck, pulls him close, and tugs on his cheek. “Now smile!”

           She smiles widely while Troy just grimaces beneath her grip. Then she speaks into her ECHO device, “now end it.”

           And the livestream ends.

[stargazer-sims]

Wants and Fears

Eden: Uh… Kolya?

Nikolai: What is it?

Eden: Not to be weird or anything, but what happened to your hair? And like, are you… are you wearing makeup?

Nikolai: Yes, I’m wearing makeup. Is that weird?

Eden: No. I just didn’t think you were into that. It looks good, honestly. Really natural and subtle. Did you do it yourself?

Nikolai: I did. I haven’t tried in a long time, so I’m glad I didn’t forget how. I usually only did it for competitions.

Eden: I guess you know what the next question’s going to be.

Nikolai: Why did I put on makeup and wrangle my hair into something that doesn’t look like a tumbleweed?

Eden: Yeah.

Nikolai: I wanted to practice.

Eden: For what?

Nikolai: I have a date.

Eden: I didn’t know Anya was already back.

Nikolai: It’s not Anya. It’s somebody else.

Eden: Woman or man?

Nikolai: Woman. Been a while since I dated a man, actually.

Eden: I remember the last one. That giant guy with the muscles, who never said much. The hockey player. Mishka? I liked him.

Nikolai: Mikhail Petrovich. He wouldn’t have let you call him Mishka. He didn’t say much around most people because he was self-conscious about his English, but he certainly talked a lot with me.

Eden: In Russian?

Nikolai: Obviously.

Eden: So, anyway, who’s the new person? Is she gonna treat you right, and is she hot? Anybody I might know?

Nikolai: I think she’s going to treat me right. Yes she is hot, and yes, you know who she is.

Eden: Ooh… who is it?

Nikolai: Ginger Holmes.

Eden: Ginger, as in Sebastian Fujikawa’s coach?

Nikolai: That’s her. We’ve known each other for a long time, and—

Eden: Hang on. I think we need to talk about this. You can’t date the competition. Isn’t it like, a conflict of interest or something? And what about me and Sebastian? What if you get so involved with each other that you don’t pay enough attention to us?

Nikolai: That’s not going to happen. We’re very invested in you and Sebastian.

Eden: You say that now.

Nikolai: I’m not going to ignore you. You’re going to have just as much of my attention as always. I have no intention of changing anything when it comes to my relationship with you or when it comes to your training.

Eden: Are you sure?

Nikolai: Eden, what’s this about? You’ve never worried about this sort of thing with anybody else I’ve dated.

Eden: You’ve never dated the competition before.

Nikolai: This isn’t about you or Sebastian. It’s about Ginger and me. We spend the majority of our time with you and Sebastian, and we basically live for our work. Yeah, we both enjoy it, and Ginger loves Sebastian just as much as I love you, but we need a chance to not think about skating and our students. We’re not going to be discussing work.

Eden: Okay, but…

Nikolai: It’ll be all right. Let us have our night out.

Eden: Okay. I don’t like it, but… okay.

Nikolai: I’ll tell you what. If you’re really worried about it, maybe you and I and Ginger and Sebastian can all get together later to talk. Sebastian might be worried as well, and I’m sure Ginger doesn’t want that any more than I do. Would that work for you?

Eden: Any chance we can talk you out of it?

Nikolai: I’m afraid not, but you can tell us how you feel and ask us whatever’s on your mind, and we’ll do our best to answer everything. I want you to be comfortable with this, or at least as comfortable as possible.

[percontaion-points]

Court chapters 24-27

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 24

That thought lasts until Valentina waves a hand, and Macy and the rest of my friends vanish into thin air.

Chapter 24 summary: Grace tells the king and queen that she has the crown. They call her bluff, and say that she doesn’t have the gargoyle army behind it. She shows them the signet ring that Alistair had given her, which surprises every single person. Especially her friends, since she hadn’t had a second to tell them about her trip to Cork. 

They try to make a deal that the witches will back the gargoyle army so long as they promise to bring the children back. The king isn’t interested, but his decision is overwritten by the queen, who clearly only cares about getting Emma back. 

Grace is happy that things are finally going her way… until one of the witches vanishes everybody but Grace. 

Chapter 25

Because right now, a very familiar witch is heading straight for us.

Chapter 25 summary: Grace not disappearing with her friends was a mistake on the witches’ part: they literally forgot gargoyles are immune to magic. So they grab her arm and physically escort her from the palace, where they shove her out onto the street; it’s honestly pretty amusing. 

Out there, Grace sends frantic texts to the others before realising that she’s in Italy. 

After a few minutes, Hudson shows up. That they were basically shown the door, but he left them in search of her. 

He then spends the rest of the chapter catching up on what happened to Grace when she went to Cork. The others show up, and they crack a joke to lighten the mood a little. 

Chapter 26

Her eyes widen before she shouts, “Run! Now!” just as her light goes out and the piazza around us is plunged into total darkness.

Chapter 26 summary: A witch shows up, who is introduced as the witch queen’s sister, Viola. She apologises for all of that, although I’m not quite sure that it’s exactly her place to apologise for her shitty sister’s behaviour. 

She then turns to Macy and pointedly tells her that her mother is working for Cyrus. But she also heavily implies that it’s not exactly by choice. Macy is floored by this, because she thought that her mom had simply run away and abandoned them. 

Grace then asks Viola about the crown, and why everybody is afraid/wants it. Viola explains that it is a thing that grants the owner the ability to remove somebody’s power… or to give it back. However, after Grace’s experience in the prison without access to her power, she finds the responsibility of such a thing to be too immense. Viola says that the only way to get rid of the crown is to pass it along to Grace’s gargoyle successor. But since there isn’t one, it seems as though she’s stuck with it for a while. 

Viola then gives Flint a prosthetic leg, and tells him that it should shift back and forth with him. Which is kind of convenient, and kind of makes me wonder why the author bothered to write about him losing his leg if she was only going to turn around and give him a literal magic prosthetic. 

She tells the group that they don’t have much time, and to get out of there. But then it would appear as though their time has already come to a close. 

Chapter 27

“Neither will running around the globe begging for help from people who won’t give it,” Eden counters.

Yes, thank you! Going to the witch court was a waste of time. Which I’d like to remind everybody, they don’t exactly have a lot of time on their hands anymore. 

It’s that hope that spurs me to share the thought that’s been growing in the back of my mind since the Witch Court. “I have an idea.”

Chapter 27 summary: They all run off, and eventually pause once they’re far enough away from the witch court. They regroup and try to decide what to do next. However, this quickly leads to a lot of in-fighting. Because this is exactly what’s needed right now. 

Eventually, Grace goes to comfort her cousin over the news of what really happened to her mom. They talk about how shitty that the situation is, and Hudson makes a joke about how his dad is obviously the number one at being shitty. 

They lie down in the grass, and Grace passes out the pop-tarts she’d put into her bag before everything went to shit. It’s not much, but it helps them to calm down and regroup. Grace then says she has an idea. 

[thesheel]

I feel sorry to see the widespread discrimination in America pushing the legacy of racial trauma in Black Americans forward. While I was at the JW Marriott Minneapolis Mall of America as a guest, a recent event triggered some racial prejudicial memories, which I usually encounter when I visit establishments that are supposed to be “whites.” While working on a space designated for hotel guests, a staff member came and asked me if I was a guest since they don’t allow non-guests to use that area. I immediately told him that, “I don’t have to answer that.” Because I knew exactly what his racially driven undertone was; i.e., “You are black; you can’t afford the place.” I complained to one of the staff members, who told the manager. Surprisingly the manager came to defend the worker’s action rather than issuing an apology.   [caption id="attachment_7536" align="alignnone" width="768"] Eli Mshomi working in JW Marriott Minneapolis Mall of America, a place where a staff member inquired him whether he is a guest or not. These behaviors of staff are the primary reasons of racial trauma in Black Americans.[/caption]   I gave the hotel the benefit of the doubt, and I said I would do my observations while still being the guest. The next day's groups of whites kept on coming to work, and I saw nobody coming and asking them if they were hotel guests.  This was not the first event of its type against me. The same thing happened to me in prior years while I was a guest at the Gaylord National Resort and Convention Center in DC.  Back then, the only difference was that the manager came and apologized to me, and the staff member was moved out of that area. The problem is that most people don’t even consider bullying as an instrument of racial discrimination, and end up defending it in one way or another. Some people will say that the hotel staff must inquire about the attendees, but why do they question Black people only? Where is their duty after seeing the white people in the exact circumstances? My experience was not only isolated to hotel establishments. While I was trying to open a startup, I did not have an office, so I worked in different coffee places. I had a white business partner, and we were working together. He suggested Lunds & Byerlys in Eden Prairie to use as an office location since it was close to his house. We started working there, and I was comfortable with the place until I decided to go alone one day.  Soon, a manager came and told me I am not supposed to work there, as it’s not a place to work. I was shocked, as I used to work there daily. As expected, I could see many “white” people using it as a working place at the same time when the manager asked me to leave the establishment. The incident was purely driven by the racism embedded in the manager’s head against people of color. I told my business partner about the incident and said that I couldn’t go there anymore. He suggested a new place called Bobby & Steve’s Auto World, also in Eden Prairie. We started working there, but one day I came earlier in the morning since I was meeting a friend who I referred to get her car fixed. I was in the same spot where I usually sit with my business partner, while she was at the counter paying for the service. She heard one of the staff members telling the boss, “Are you aware there is somebody there who uses this as a working place?” On hearing that, she came and told me, which I related to my business partner. Seeing this much discrimination at almost every place, I started feeling racial trauma. From that point onward, I decided not to go to any establishment again and work without him being there before I arrived.  So, I used to call him and make sure he is had arrived before I arrived, but if he was late someday by chance, I used to hang out in a nearby Caribou Coffee until I made sure he was already in. These types of racial discrimination and white evangelicals’ actions are catalyzing the racial trauma in Black A

mericans. Racial Trauma in Black Americans: A Curse that Needs to be Cured These days, it is almost impossible to find a Black American who has not encountered some type of discrimination. In fact, all Black, Indigenous, and people of color, commonly combinedly known as BIPOC, have to face this racial trauma on a daily basis, which is fostering the mental health crisis in these communities. For the perpetrators of this discrimination, these types of behaviors are independent events, but the receivers of this discrimination are exposed to this behavior daily, resulting in racial trauma in Black Americans. The perpetrators fail to comprehend that their behaviors promote long-term damage, the results of which are anxiety, depression, nightmares, and flashbacks. While going out of their houses, many Black Americans think it could be their last drive, just like George Floyd or Daunte Wright. Looking at the unemployment numbers, Black students often think about whether their higher education would go to waste, believing that a white American would be preferred over them in the job interview. They fear they will be exploited in the job market by lower salaries compared to their white counterparts. Or that they can be jailed for a crime they never committed. Perhaps they will fail to own a house in the United States or be bullied by their neighbors just because of their color if they own a home. While casting their vote, many wonder whether their voice matters amid the laws specifically made to silence them? When Black Americans see the pervasiveness of the injustice directed towards their community in all these forms, they rightfully assume themselves as the next victim of that brutality. When they see hopelessness all around, they become the victims of racial trauma, hindering their progress in the country. The sense of terror, insecurity, and depreciation is being fostered this way in the Black community, adding fuel to the fire to the already marginalized community. Many end up consuming drugs trying to evade this systematic persecution; others keep on, fighting the building pressure and stress in their minds.   Final Thoughts The need of the hour is to criminalize bullying in all the US states, punishing the perpetrators of this discrimination hard without any biases.  The biased narratives against the people of color are embedded in the educational systems that enable the children to drive their mentality by color after growing up. Solving these crises is not an overnight process, but a constant struggle that needs a dedicated effort by both the government and civil society.  Seeing the ineffectiveness of the government in addressing the severity of the issue, civil society has to lead the effort. No one deserves racial trauma, as it drives hatred in society, pushing people into mental distress and taking drastic decisions, including suicides.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kino Dark [01]

Kino: Well then, time to have a sip of this passion fruit juice I ordered.

Yui: …

( I wonder why he insists on drinking it here? )

( But I doubt telling him to leave will have any effect… )

( I’d rather not be together in the same room though. )

Kino: Let me see…Nn …? Coff, coff…! What is this!? It’s super sour!

Is this stuff expired!? Unbelievable!

Yui: A-Are you alright…?

Kino: …I’m not ‘alright’ at all. Ahー …I better cleanse my palate.

ー He steps closer

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh?

Kino: I’ll have you let me suck your blood.

Yui: N-No! Stop!

Kino: Are you an idiot? As if you have the right to say no. Nnhーー

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Ahーー...!

Kino: You’re making some rather sweet sounds…for someone who asked me to stop earlier…Does it feel good when I suck your blood?

Yui: O-Of course…not…

Kino: Haha. You don’t sound very convincing shaking your head while your face is flushed bright red, you know? …You love this, don’t you?

Yui: Once again, I don’t…!

Kino: Fine, I understand. …Well, not like it matters how you feel about it. I’ll feed off you even more.

Nn…Your blood is delicious, isn’t it? Nn…

Yui: Uu…!

( I’ve had enough of this…Somebody, save me…! )

*Knock knock*

Yuuri: Kino. I’m coming in.

Yui: ( Eh? Yuuri-san? )

D-Don’tーー!

Kino: What’s the matter? Aah, are you embarrassed about Yuuri seeing you like this?

In that case…Go ahead, Yuuri! Come on in!

Yui: !!

ー Yuuri enters the room

Yuuri: Pardon the intrusion. ーー Aah, I suppose I am interrupting something.

Kino: Yeah. But seems like this girl gets a kick out of someone watching, so enjoy the show? Nnーー

Yui: That’s…notーー!

( It’s so embarrassing…I can’t stand thisーー! )

Kino: Fufu. Liar, liar, pants on fire~ Your cries are even more lewd than earlier. Hey, you’re getting aroused from being watched, aren’t you?

Go and try beg to Yuuri. Ask him to look at this embarrassing display of you even more.

Selection

→ Please…watch… (M)

Yui: ( I can’t…go against Kino-kun’s will… )

Please…watch…

Kino: That’s not it, is it? You have to add ‘please’ at the end. Also you have to specify who or what they have to watch.

Yui: Uu…Please…Watch me…

→ No, don’t look (S)

Yui: No, d-don’t look…!

Kino: Fufu, your words and actions are contradicting each other.

Hey, Yuuri. Despite what she’s saying, she’s actually dying to have you watch her.

How shameful she looks when I drink her blood, that is. …So would you please do so?

Yuuri: Understood. Well then, I shall watch closely.

Kino: Yeah, do that for her. Well then, let’s pick up where we left offーー Phew…

Yui: Aah!

Kino: Fufu, you’re shivering. You get worked up from being watched, don’t you? Naughty girl…Nnhーー...

Yui: Please…Stop…already…

Kino: More, you say? Guess you give me no other choice…Then you should ask her as well, Yuuri. Whether she feels good.

Yuuri: Okay. Yui-san, does it feel good to have Kino-san drink your blood?

Yui: I-It doesn’tーー Aah��!

Kino: Nnhーー Come on, answer his question. Say ‘yes, exactly’...Heh…

Yui: E-Exactly…

Kino: Fufu, well done. Well then, I’ll make you feel even better as your reward, okayーー...?

Yui: ( …I wonder for how much longer this will go on…? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[rjhpandapaws]

Bad to Work With

Ch 3: Things to (Never) Learn from Hindsight

//Going to preface this with the fact that I didn’t mean to write angst, it was supposed to be fluff

Gavin wasn’t one to learn from his mistakes. A considerable feat considering the sheer number of mistakes he’d made just in recent history. He would suffer the consequences and come out on the other side only to make the exact same mistake or one that was worse. Hindsight wasn’t something he benefitted from. He looked back on most of his mistakes with the knowledge that it would only be a matter of time before he did it again. Up until recently he wasn’t a victim of situational regret. This was one of the few times he wished he could go back and undo something. Not so much the night itself, that wasn’t what he had come to regret; but the elevator ride. If he had managed to keep his mouth shut for once in his life he wouldn’t be staring down yet another coffee cup adorned with a sticky note. It was a different cafe this time, they always were. It seemed like whenever Gavin left his desk there would be a coffee waiting for him when he got back. This was the first one he had ever gotten that was waiting from before he’d arrived.

It wasn’t even that it was bad coffee. These niche cafes Richard was finding had amazing drinks. Gavin had even gone to some of them on the weekends. The thing of it was that he had a system despite the fact that his desk looked like a bomb had gone off. Richard didn’t know what the system was and he would set the cups in whatever open space was available and then leave. On the few occasions Gavin didn’t notice them in time they wound up getting knocked over. When they fell it was either onto the other papers or into his computer terminal. The papers were usually salvageable; but he was pretty sure Silas was ready to murder him. He probably had it plotted out and everything. Gavin sighed quietly and picked up the foam cup. There was no logo on this one, so he found it safe to assume it was from one of the newer cafes in the area. The sticky note on the other hand was short and simple. Gavin would have even dared to call it sweet if it were from anyone other than Ricard. He stuck his note to his monitor like had with all the others and settled in at his desk for another long day.

The issue was Gavin was almost endeared by it. He hadn’t been in a romantic relationship since high school, and no one had ever tried like this. Not for him anyway. It was making what was left of his resolve wear thin. Richard had learned exactly one thing about him and ran with it. The level of emotion to it all was what had Gavin on edge. He didn’t do feelings because he wasn’t good with them. It was less draining to just have a night with someone and then go their separate ways. He’d never had to resist his own wants like this. He avoided repeats for a reason, he wasn’t about to change that. He wouldn’t let things get beyond coffee. Except, as he waited for his computer to boot up he texted Richard.

Me: Thanks for the pick me up. Coffee Supplier: Of course, I’ve been meaning to try out that cafe for a while. Me: It’s pretty good Coffee Supplier: Definitely. Coffee Supplier: Have a good day Gavin. Me: Thanks, you too

It was the first time he had actually messaged Richard. He had saved his number to be polite, but never planned to actually use it. He hadn’t expected to have a normal conversation. It was nice in a way.

That’s where it should have stopped, would have stopped if Gavin had been stronger. The short text conversations became just as routine as the coffee and sticky notes. They didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, and made a point not to talk about work. It was almost like talking with Tina; if there wasn’t that unspoken something hanging over them. The temptation lingered, as it always did. The easiest excuse to use was that Richard was his superior. The truth of it was that Gavin was scared. The last time he had loved someone he wound up burned with his heart in pieces on the floor. He’d been younger and dumber then, but he still wasn’t sure this was a risk he was willing to take again. So it stayed small. Limited to brief conversations at work, notes passed through coffee, and text messages when they had the time. He stopped keeping the notes on his monitor after Hank had asked about them. They had their own desk drawer now. If he kept these things compartmentalized he could pretend that he wasn’t slowly being pulled in.  Gavin was short sighted, so at the time it had seemed like a full proof plan. Out of sight out of mind, that sort of thing. Even though he knew ignoring his problems only made them worse. Just this once he hoped it would work.

It turned into a bad week. The kind when he was just praying to make it to Friday. He made plans with Tina to meet up at Eden on Friday night. He just wanted to have a night to let go for a while. Be someone else. Monday was fine, but Tuesday marked the start of everything going wrong. It started with his computer crashing; it wasn’t coffee related for once, and things kind of stock piled from there. The heat went out in his apartment complex, and then his car decided to finally die on him. He had ignored the Check Engine Light for too long. He was at the point that if anything else went wrong this week he was going to fucking lose it. Friday, thankfully enough, was his half day. He wasn’t in the office long enough for things to go wrong. He worked through the morning and pulled a disappearing act the moment the chance arose. He planned to sleep for a while before meeting up with Tina at Eden and then leaving with a stranger. He had things he wanted to forget, and blue eyed problems to ignore. Eden was packed, like it always was on Fridays. Business types and the lucky public who could manage the cover charge were all out to get relief from their weekly boredom, and Gavin was right in the middle of it. Dancing with strangers and accepting any drinks that were offered to him. Anything to take his mind off of his problems. Especially the blue eyed one that had been haunting him recently.

He was in the sweet spot. Just past too drunk to give a shit, but not absolutely wasted yet. Which also meant that he was just beyond sober enough to recognize the steel blue eyes of the person he was dancing with. That they were the same eyes he was drinking to drown out. All he was concerned with was how well they fit. In any other circumstance the fact that this felt so familiar would have been cause for alarm. He was a little more sober by the time they managed to stumble out to a cab. Not enough to care, but enough to confirm that yes, this was something he wanted to do. Gavin was more caught up in the moment than he was concerned with the mild prickle of familiarity in the way this man said his name. He chalked up the ease with which he was unraveled to desperation. Anyone could be an expert in Undoing Gavin Reed if he was desperate enough for an escape. Tonight happened to be one of those nights and every red flag was excused and brushed aside in favor of chasing the pleasure. They were a problem for Sober Gavin. He would have the rest of the weekend to deal with them.

Consciousness came back to him slowly, like it always did after a night of drinking. He was rested and contentedly sore in ways that meant he had followed somebody home. Whoever his companion had been, they weren’t one for cuddling. He rolled over and found himself alone. It was slow to sink in that this particular room was a little too familiar. Once the thought made it through the haze of his hangover Gavin cursed under his breath. His memories of the club were hit and miss at best, he remembered dancing with strangers and drinking more than he probably should have. There were stern blue eyes sprinkled into them here and there. Gavin had done a repeat. That moment of clarity was accompanied to the door of the room quietly opening. From the look on Richard’s face he clearly wasn’t expecting Gavin to be awake yet, “Oh. Good morning.” “Hey.” He replied groggily as he sat up. There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence as Richard set Gavin’s now clean clothes on the bed. He gave him a onceover before retreating from the room like the devil himself was on his heals. It made Gavin feel sick to his stomach. He had definitely fucked up this time.

He got dressed slowly and tried to figure out what to do. Apologize was the obvious answer. But for which thing? All of them? The list of things he hadn’t done wrong was probably shorter at this point. When he finally gathered the courage to leave Richard’s room he was met with the strong smell of coffee. This was the moment of truth. “Your friend Tina says you owe her fifty bucks.” Richard said without looking at him, “And if you ever leave without talking to her again she’ll take your coffee money.” Gavin flinched, “Sorry you had to deal with her. Sorry for everything really. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” “Which ‘this’?” He asked as he turned around with two mugs of coffee and held one out to Gavin, “Sleeping with me again, or being so drunk that you didn’t notice who you were with?” “All of it.” He admitted and held the mug with both of his hands like the warmth would protect him from his mistakes, “From the first time till now. For the text messages. Everything.” “Did you even mean any of it?” There was an emotion to Richard’s voice that Gavin didn’t want to dwell on. He was being given an out, and he wasn’t about to pass it up.

If he were a better person he would have been honest. Instead, he set the mug down and reached for his phone. “No.” He said as he stood. He didn’t look at Richard as he walked to the door, “It’s been fun though.” When the apartment door clicked shut behind him there was an air of finality to it. Another mistake he wouldn’t learn from. There was no coffee on his desk on Monday morning. Things were finally back to normal, so he didn’t understand why it felt so empty.

[sirensmojo]

"KINDRED",3 - Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Summary: Tommy meets a librarian that he discovered to be the chief of an underground organisation. Needing man enough allies to dirty their hands in the battle against Oswald Mosley, he shakes hands with the devil. Feelings intertwine with business, a mix that leads to unalterable ends...

Warnings: Swearing, drugs, romance, drama & cheating.

Word Count: 5K

❰ ​Previous Chapter

*Shelby Brother Company Limited, Birmingham*

“Michael’s a pain in the ass.”

You and Tommy were seated one in front of the other in Tommy’s office, it was almost midnight.

You both stared at each other after your affirmation, the need to formulate words obsolete, when all of a sudden, a hiccup hit your throat.

“Wow.” Your brows raised, along with your free hand, patting over your chest.

Only the booze could bring them to talk, but they would forget everything the next morning, or that, they pretended so. Everything the other would say was rooted in the other’s heart, as a prize.

“I could maybe try something.” You calmly spoke, as if a flash of thunder lightning struck some idea into you.

You two had dirty hands and were capable of taking care of yourselves, but those past three, you got each other’s back.

Without knowing it, you were keeping a close eye on the business of the other just in case.

If the Peaky Blinder found something wrong concerning your business, he would take care of it, in the shadows of course.

No need to tell you he quite cared when he wasn't sure himself.

It was also working the other way, you had ears at each side of the continent, you what had happened to the Shelby politician without him telling you, and straightened back up every shaky thing.

“ ‘Bout what?” Tommy asked, pouring some more whiskey in the cup resting in your other hand.

‘The two partners trying to get rid of Mosley’ had become an excuse. The silence each brought to the other was addictive, and the days between each meeting only amplified that obsession.

“Speak sense to his wife. Given the situation, I think both the weak and tuff points of Michael’s scheme are her.”

Tommy frowned, thinking deeper about what you told. You weren’t entirely wrong, he doubted Michael would’ve betrayed him without the support of somebody.

“He was pushed to one side, a little push to the other one will make him think right.” Y/L/N got further.

An evening meeting was programmed weekly.

You started meeting at the library during the first week. Then, the Shelby Brother Company Limited’s office, catching the attention of another member of the Shelby family.

“You think it’ll be this easy?” The peaky blinder asked, sprinkling ash onto the ashtray that was on the table that separated you two.

“It’ll have to.” You responded.

Polly was the first one to confront Tommy directly about the presence of a very well dressed woman far too often in the offices.

“Her hair is nice.” She added, smoking on her cig looking intently at Tommy's gleaming eyes at the mention of the so-called “librarian”.

Because that was how he presented Y/N. A girl from an aristocratic family searching for exoticism and bought a library.

He and you were to work together solely due to his status at the House of Commons, none more none less.

But the Gray woman knew better, even if she refused to push the matter further.

“May God keep Arthur away from her, he’ll eat her for his lunch.” Pol’ tease before she shook her head at her own statement as Tommy coughed away this whole discussion.

(...)

Three knocks could be heard on the Gray’s room door in the Midland hotel.

The entrance opens, “Told you I’ll join you in a minute, Gin--” Michael’s voice stopped as soon as his wife abruptly pushed her shoulders to his to enter the room.

“What are you doing?” One of his hands was in his suit pocket, the other one grabbing the door handle.

She hassled to the phone, dialling a number without even glancing at the Gray.

“Gina?” Asked the man, looking intently at the movements of the woman, blinking slowly.

She refused to address him, waiting patiently until the person she was calling responded.

“What is going on? What do you mean our contacts were offered another deal?”

Michael went closer, and as he was sitting on the desk chair, leaning backwards on it, he started to understand what was going on.

“Anyway, we can still offer them to prosper durably, that man can’t say the same, right?”

She rolled her eyes at herself after remaining silent for some minutes, she was listening to the individual at the end of the line.

It was more than clear she was done with everything.

She wasn’t even slightly “happy” to be in the shit hole that was Birmingham as she, herself, qualified multiple times. The only reason she was here was that Michael didn’t want to properly betray his cousin.

He convinced her to come here and resonate with Tommy about a “normal succession”, but she knew damn well it wouldn’t work. Why would he give everything he spent so much time to gather under the pretext of succession?

Tommy wasn’t the type to give up things, for any reason.

And now that they were away from New York, their allies already started to forget about their promises…

Why did she even agree to let Tommy a chance?

“He didn’t fall for Michael’s plan. We will have to do it our way.” She seemed happy at least, to finally be able to handle the matter how she wanted to, which was the only good news about this call.

When the receptionist asked for her at the restaurant, she’d expected to be told all was ready there and that Michael would only have to give the order for the plan to begin. But no.

Gina hung up the phone before she lifted her eyes to her husband that was staring at her, patiently waiting.

“It was my uncle, some man going by the name of Haynes met with all of our contacts, offering them a greater alliance directly with the Chinese, without needing us as intermediaries.” She finally spoke.

The younger Gray looked away, clenching his jaw as a hand came over his face. He let out a long sigh, his body voicing his displeasure. But his wife’s hand came on his shoulder as she leaned on his back, and murmured near his ear:

“But. He says it’s looking like the perfect time to launch plan B, baby.” She grabbed his chin as she turned around to stand in front of him.

“He says it’ll show them we can also ‘bang’ if it’s needed. It’ll be like showing our hand, and in this case, this is the thing to do.”

One of her hands was on Michael’s thigh as the other was still holding his face so he was looking at her. It was a way to say “focus on me” without actually saying it.

As the man was diving into her brown eyes, it seemed she succeeded at keeping him from thinking too much. She gave answers before he could even formulate questions.

By his silence, Gina surmised Michael still wasn’t sure about the plan.

“We did it your way Michael, coming all the way up here to your cousin’s chaotic decisions. Things need to get in order, baby. And it seems like you’re the one that cares enough to do so.” The words left her mouth so lightly as she straightened up and turned her back to her husband.

“We need to go back to America as soon as possible. You promised our child will be born there.” She added, glancing at him above her shoulder.

(...)

Arthur and the boys had convinced Tommy to relax at the Garrison after a long day. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he slammed the doors open to a packed place.

Ahead of them were approximately twenty women, all dolled up as if coming from the Eden club in London. Very short hair with the golden headband with feathers, embroidered pearls on their cotton dresses made it known they were from high society.

Some of them were dancing in the middle of the room, while others were singing on the counter zigzagging between glasses and bottles.

It was the first time Tommy had seen most of those people.

He was actively searching their faces trying to locate the reason for their presence when his eyes confirmed his thought. You were dancing, turning on yourself holding the hand of a taller woman.

You had on a black & red dress going down to your knees with a black and gold headband that flattened your hair, forcing your finger waves to frame your face. Your slow and haunting movements were wrinkling the fabrics, complementing your silhouette.

As you were spinning around, the fringes of your dress were flying in the air as well as your hair, adding to your alluring dance.

Your cheeks, certainly reddened by the alcohol and your half-opened eyes due to you boozing with the huge grin that illuminated your face, made Tommy’s eyes twinkle. As if it was a beautiful night sky full with stars he was looking at.

“Who’s that Tommy?” Arthur questioned entering right after the Shelbys head.

“Get in the room, I’ll bring the bottles.” Tom’s low voice ordered as he motioned to the little room near the counter.

Finn and Isaiah hassled to the room without wasting any more minutes, too appealed by the idea of getting drunk while Arthur leaned to his brother’s ear.

“Look at that butterfly Tommy, isn’t she lovely?” He asked after he caught the reason for Tommy's order.

The latter dismissed the discomfort with a rough cough, turning to his brother.

“What about you fetch the bottles, eh?” He simply put, and that was enough for Arthur to leave it there.

“Whiskey for the peaky boys!” He exclaimed as he patted Tommy’s shoulder. He managed his way behind the counter, after which, he took what he was searching for and disappeared behind the large doors of the little room he closed behind himself.

Tom stayed there, looking at you for some time trying to understand which one of the facades he had seen was the real you.

You were now sitting on your friend's lap, legs crossed, your lips were alternating between a long cigarette holder and a glass of what Tommy surmised to be whiskey knowing the character.

Giving up on searching for an answer, he turned his heels and joined his brothers as if nothing had happened.

(...)

Coming out of the car, you looked both ways before crossing the street and joining the large wooden door, a hand in your suit’s pocket, the other leading a cigarette to your lips.

You pushed in the door and were met by two pairs of eyes. A tall young white man, with a dark-skinned one, wearing berets.

Without second glancing at them, you confidently walked to the stairs at the end of the large room, making this place your own.

Your heels resonated on the cold hard ground, and as they did, each man in the building turned to you, staring in both awe and confusion.

Coming down the stairs, you passed by the three little training rings before you sat down at a little table in front of one of them. It was two men fighting, one who had a luxuriant moustache hiding his upper lips, freckles sprinkling his face.

He was screaming at the other one with a thick Birmingham accent, “Come ‘ere, boy.”

“Hit me! Hit me!” His tone was louder each time.

The poor man ahead of him didn’t dare to punch, which he certainly regretted after he received a strong right fist in the jaw.

Only a couple punches later the loud man succeeded at putting down the other that was wincing in pain.

“Yeaa” The moustache man exclaimed before being interrupted by one of the two boys you saw earlier.

“Arthur! There’s a--” He stopped dead at the sight of you, and you put your cig in between your lips as you got up, beginning to applause.

The sound resonated against the walls as no one was making any noise. You grabbed back the cigarette with your fingers and moved closer.

“Do you fight? I know great opponents,” you paused, feigning to think. “not so sure they will stand even for a round with you.” You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

They both looked at you up and down for a whole minute before the named Arthur opened his mouth, even if still struggling to properly breathe, he smacked his lips as his hands went flattening his hair.

“Searching for exotism, love?” He grabbed the towel he was handed by a small chubby man with a hat. “Bet you liked what ya see.” Arthur decided to make it normal for a woman to come to sit and watch men fight.

“Indeed.” You let out, a curious gleam in your eyes.

He turned to the man on his side that leaned in his ear, murmuring something.

Arthur let out a deep “Hmm” before he got out of the ring.

He glanced at you and decided to keep up the talk.

“I don’t fight like this, it’s just for---”

“Fun?” You interrupted him, your eyes still fixed on his figure. His stare encountered yours before he put on a shirt. He grabbed the filled cup off the table.

“Curly, Tommy needs you in Charlie’s yard. Finn, you go with them.” He was pointing at the men and to the door up the stairs as if dismissing them.

So the man handed him things was going by “Curly” and the boy, Finn.

“What you doing here? It’s not some place for you.” He buttoned up his pants.

You scoffed at his affirmation, leading him to look up at you.

“I like some good fights, is that forbidden, Mr Shelby?” You came nearer, throwing the rest of your cig in his cup.

You were standing right in front of him, taking the bow tie hanging on the half wall of the ring and slowly led it to his neck. He took a step back, but you stepped forward, blocking him against the ring sides.

“You know Tommy?” Arthur felt the need to say something, the situation being extremely odd to him.

You gently put in place the bow and looked up to Arthur’s face, from his pale skin to his eyes. You stayed there a whole minute, analyzing his soul throughout the blue spring sky of his glassy eyes.

“I’d like to see you fight more. In real rings, Arthur. Why don’t you use the boxing place, it’s not far from here.” You turned your heels, walking back to the chair.

He looked at your figure, his eyes blankly fluttering for a moment. Needless to say, the minute you stared at him was displeasing, he was feeling as if he was robbed of something.

He ignored the warning and grabbed his boots, before he installed himself on the other chair around the little table, wanting to hear more about your offer.

“You fight good, but with some real training you could be something else.” You offered him a cigarette that he refused.

You were testing him from the very moment you put your feet in this cave, from checking how to open his mind was to his relation with poison such as cigarettes.

And now that you know everything you need to know, you could offer something.

“You’re some sort of agent?” He asked, intrigued.

You shook your head “Did you ever imagine women fighting? Just like you did, perhaps slightly better” You questioned, teasing him on the end.

His only response was to look at you in disbelief, and you bet he didn’t even understand what you told him.

“There is a world that exists, right here in Birmingham. Wanna go out and see?” You motioned your head toward the door, inviting him to agree with you.

It wasn’t that hard to convince the elder Shelby brother, he was always open to seeing more of life. Even if that meant to beat the shit outta people, get drunk, fuck the whole city or drowning in drugs.

The thing with Arthur was that he wasn’t careful enough, what told him it wasn’t a trap and that he will not get kidnapped or even killed if he followed you? Nothing. Nothing was ever sure with him, but leaving on the edges was something like his daily prayer, so of course he said yes.

Why in the hell would he say no? Tommy could do without him today.

(...)

Tommy had an unexpected visit from Churchill himself. It seemed like the latter had taken a liking to the head of the Shelbys.

“Do what you have to do, Mr Shelby.” Were Churchill’s words toward the reason for his visit, Mosley.

Indeed, he had thought out a concrete plan. And surprisingly, it was thanks to the books you sent him over the weeks, it was almost worth getting harassed by her over the primar book.

The plan was simple, Mosley will make a speech a week and a half from now, the 6th, in Bingley hall. Taking advantage of an anti-fascist demonstration during the rally, an old war comrade named Barney will shoot, and to be cleared of any suspicion, Thomas will be standing right next to Mosley at the time of his death, making sure he’ll take the head of the fascist union.

Today’s meeting was to explain details of the plan and what needed to be done before the d-day, but Tom didn’t see his brother during the entire day and when he’d asked the boys he was responded that Arthur stayed training some more.

It was hard at times, even for him to understand his older brother.

Not that he wanted to, but normally Arthur would never miss a meeting. The only times he didn’t show up were when he was overwhelmed with dark thoughts, and it wasn’t the right time for something like that to occur.

He decided to come to the pub, hoping to see his brother there, drunk, but not in a random cave trying to end his life.

Tom opened the Garrison’s doors, coughing at the amount of smoke coming in his face. He squinted his eyes, at first searching for a fire, but the more smoke entered his nostrils, the more he recognized the smell of apples and red fruits.

“Arthur, what the hell?” he called.

The place was crowded but Tommy’s eyes were focused on his brother, installed at the table near the windows.

He walked to the table and motioned to the windows. “Open one of these.” He ordered, but his brother didn’t see nor hear him. He was too occupied smoking on what seemed like a pipe with a long tube from where came the smoke.

“Oi!” Tommy yelled.

As everyone around the table turned to him, his eyes met with someone he would’ve never expected to be here.

Y/N was previously actively discussing with some girls when someone shouted into her ear.

You stared at Tommy for what seemed an eternity, he doing the same, both asking themselves what the other was doing here.

“Tommy!” His brother exclaimed, louder than he needed to. But this one was too occupied looking at you to even glance toward his brother, that well noticed the stare between you two.

Arthur managed to get up and pat his brother’s shoulder, welcoming him properly.

That’s when he turned to him, incredulous. His icy blue eyes were piercing his brothers, relentlessly.

“Welcome to the new Birmingham, brother!” Arthur seemed ecstatic. “Did you fucking know there were women fighting too, Tommy?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Arthur.” His brother shook his head, still looking at him.

“Boxing, he saw women boxing for the first time.” You entered the conversation to Tommy's displeasure. He looked over you blankly.

“What the fuck is this?” He pointed to the thing Arthur was smoking from previously.

“It’s called a hookah. Or a shisha in percian.” You responded even though he decided to ignore you for who knows what reason.

“Come on, brother, it’s the good life, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, seeing the face of Tommy next to him.

He ultimately pointed back to the windows, “Open those.” Was all he said before turning back and leaving the pub.

“Sergent Major!” You authoritatively called, the heavy Garrison’s doors making a thud as they closed behind you.

The stars were twinkling dimly in the bright sky, cleared of any cloud. It added phlegm to the frenzied atmosphere between the two individuals.

He was already walking in the opposite direction but immediately stopped at the mention of his Small Heath Rifles’ rank.

Thomas turned back. “What did you say?”

You decide to ignore him and start walking to him.

Each of your steps snapped with the fortitude of an army. And the fineness with which you balance your weight from one foot to the other could bewilder the fiercest individuals, that, he knew.

Not a single ounce of hesitation nor apprehension in your movements.

But the most unsettling thing Tommy found about you was your facial expression. It wasn’t closed off or concentrated, quite the reverse, the spark settling behind your iris could light up any type of darkness and you were undoubtedly giving slices of life to each person you would smile to.

The addition of your features creating a delicate dimension where it was possible to believe the best things could happen.

At that moment, Tom wished he hadn’t seen you at that library. You were something he couldn’t overfly even if he dared to. But for some reasons he wasn’t able to move on, swayings seizing his entire being, physically as well as mentally.

There was just something about this, him and you.

“What the hell did you think, you that act like the most intelligent of all fucking Birmingham and beyond. My fucking brother doesn’t need none of that!” Tommy wasn’t screaming, but you could hear in his deep tone the anger rooted in his throat.

“He doesn’t need it or you don’t want him to have it, Thomas?” You calmly stated, which made him turn his back at you, passing a hand over his face.

You were pushing him to the edge and that made you laugh, which you didn’t even try to muffle.

He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“You wanted this.” He pointed you with his index.

He was accusing you of wittingly driving him crazy and you couldn’t even deny it.

You grabbed his finger with your own hand and pushed it down without releasing it.

“No, I counted on it.” You started, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t escape Tommy’s gaze.

“Life’s a succession of wars, Tom. But soldiers too need to relax.”

No one had ever put a finger on that nerve, but here he was, gazing longingly into your orbs, your words resonating within him.

You wasn’t only talking about Arthur and the fact he needed to be distracted to stay away from dark thoughts. You were also talking about him, that didn’t have to take care of everything as you were there now to handle some of it.

“I promise you I know what I’m doing.”

He leaned backwards, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Why were you promising things now? The last time you two were that close, it was you that ran away, and now you were the one initiating things to drift from professional to personal.

You sighed and looked down. That’s when you realized both your hands were locked together.

You frowned, remaining silent. You were shocked, but not as much as you should. You weren’t totally stupid, the feelings settling in you were pretty clear once you stopped pushing them aside.

Soon enough he followed your stare, noticing the thing as well.

Both of you released at the same time, looking at everything but the other.

Tommy coughed, fighting the will to be the one saying something in this situation. But he didn’t want you to escape him again this time.

“I’m dealing with Arthur, you don’t have to put your nose in my affairs. It’s not part of the deal.”

You’d preferred he hadn’t spoken. You rolled your eyes at yourself before throwing him the “really?” look.

“You can’t even deal with Michael and you’re telling me you’re dealing with Arthur.” You scoffed, putting a hand on your lips to muffle the sound of your laugh.

His body relaxes at your gigglings.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re foolin’?” You couldn’t hold the laugh back any more.

He didn’t respond, nor act on what you just said. He just stares at you, filled with joy at the simple sight of you being vulnerable.

A smile drew at the corner of your lips when you stopped mocking him.

Your eyes fluttered of wellness, as he was just standing close, doing nothing else than breathing.

Tommy grabbed a cig and put it in between his lips, but you hassled to steal it and lock it between yours.

He glanced at you, raising his brows. He was done with you that was for sure. But not in a bad way. You were playing a game and you won the match.

He came lightening up your cig as watching you take a deep and slow puff on it.

You started to walk, going deeper into the street and he started to do the same.

(...)

Michael and Gina were coming back from the restaurant. It was the first time the husband took his wife out to eat in Birmingham as she, obviously, wasn’t a fan of the city.

They didn’t see the time’s flying and it was already ten when they reached the wide glass doors of the hotel.

As they entered it, they noticed it was almost pinched black inside, the only source of brightness emanating from little orangish lights hanging on the walls behind the counter.

Michael glanced left to right at the place, no one to be seen, or so he thought. It was only when Gina stepped foot in, that he glimpsed figures coming out of the dark spots.

They were moving fast, getting nearer the American woman before his husband could do anything to protect her.

“Gina!” Was all he said before she disappeared outside the front doors of the hotel along with the individuals.

(...)

Tommy stops the engine looking straight ahead.

You were looking outside the window, to your large mansion. You managed to glance at the man before opening the door. You were gauging his reaction, almost testing the water all while maintaining the silence.

As the tension couldn’t get higher, you stepped out. You began to move away from the car when you heard its door open, followed by the clearing of a throat you knew too well.

Tommy’s steps on the gravel came nearer and nearer. When you turned the keys in the lock they were right behind. You opened the heavy wooden entry and got in, letting the door open.

The man entered behind your and turned his back at you, closing the door. When he turned back at the entrance, Y/N had disappeared.

He stepped deeper in the house, and joined the living room, where he glimpsed at your figure, your air resting at your back, your fingers over a note on the table.

Tom got closer to you, grabbing your elbow with the tip of his fingers, looking at the paper you seemed focused on.

Done.

You quickly glanced around, as if making sure you were alone. You then turned to him, raising your palm to his cheek, a gentle touch that he didn’t expect, making his lids slowly fluttering.

You took a step forward, leaned towards him and fondled his nose with the end of your own before leading your fingers to his lips.

You closed your eyes, rooting yourself at this moment and forgetting about the library, high society, Mosley, Michael and everything that stood between you.

He was the one to initiate the kiss, the call for you being louder than any other things at the moment. One of his hands slid to the hollow of your back as the other was grabbed by hers.

Fingers intertwined together, breath mixed, lips pressed against one another, heartbeats speeding and a thousand seconds later, you pulled away, slowly raising your gaze to Tommy’s.

The weight this kiss meant dropped on Tom’s shoulder as he, without hesitation, came to taste again the sweet flavour of your lips. You gasped at the connection, the eagerness of the feeling inside your stomach being fed.

You were breathing loudly in his mouth, your hands now grabbing Tommy’s clothes shamelessly.

They both knew there was no turning back and that things got more complicated than they needed to be, but none of them pulled away nor hesitated for even a slight second.

Following Chapter ❱

[enchantress-emily]

Good Omens Fic Recs

I thought it would be fun to do a rec post for some of my favorite Good Omens fics!

But It Wouldn't Be Make-Believe by @ineffablefool

Crowley wants just one visit home to see his mum without her trying to fix him up with some nice young lady. He also wants very, very much to kiss Aziraphale, a lot. If only there was some way for him to accomplish both of these goals at once without having to actually ask Aziraphale out, which he is one thousand percent too chicken to do.

It's hard to choose just one of Jack's fics to recommend! Everything he writes is soft, romantic, asexual, and extremely fat-positive. This one is a multichapter Human AU in which Crowley and Aziraphale are completely smitten with each other, but convinced that the other just thinks of them as a friend.

Demon & Angel Professors series by Ghostinthehouse (@ineffableghost)

They're professors. They're married. Their students don't realise. Cue shenanigans.

An ongoing series of linked short fics (each exactly 666 words!) in which every new batch of university students has to figure out all over again that the terrifying Dr. Crowley (Botany) and the husband that Dr. Fell (Literature) gushes about are in fact the same person. There's also a recurring theme of the two of them helping and supporting queer and disabled students.

The Serpent's House by @hope-inthedark

Aziraphale Fell has been working at Heaven's Gate, Inc for the better part of twenty years as an assessor of orphanages for children with magical abilities. His life had been perfectly normal and beautifully boring until the day he was summoned to the Office of the Archangels and given an assignment that will turn his life on its head.

I've thought for some time that somebody needed to do a crossover/fusion between Good Omens and The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune, and Hope is pulling it off spectacularly! (You don't necessarily need to have read Cerulean Sea to enjoy The Serpent's House, but it's even more fun if you have.) This fic is still in progress as of 7/12/21.

The Rose and the Serpent by Atalan (@brightwanderer)

Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…

An absorbing, beautifully written Beauty & the Beast AU with snake!Crowley. If you aren't into sex scenes (like me), don't be put off by the M rating; the sex is a fairly minor part of the story and not at all explicit.

The Birds and the Snakes by @lyricwritesprose

Warlock Dowling discovers something that could ruin his life. Naturally, he calls on his godparents. The help that they give him isn't the help that he's expecting.

Teenage Warlock realizes he's gay and thinks that means he'll never have a chance at happiness, until Crowley and Aziraphale demonstrate otherwise. Heartwarming, with some very sweet Warlock-and-Nanny moments.

So You Need To Get Into A.Z. Fell & Co.; Now What? (A Guide For Unfortunate Bookworms) by arkhamcycle

London’s antique enthusiasts and rare lit nerds alike know that if you’re looking for a specific vintage or antique book, you have a good chance of ending up in A.Z. Fell & Co. as a last resort. And if you’ve ever been in (or are currently in) this predicament, you know how much of an absolute nightmare it is trying to even get in the door. Luckily, this handy guide, the fruit of a months-long collaborative effort to create the perfect formula for gaming the A.Z. Fell system, will tell you everything you need to know, complete with a comprehensive breakdown of what, exactly, the opening hours are. Compiled by pageknight and inky of the Rare Antique Forums.

A hysterical in-universe guide to buying a book from Aziraphale! Read the work it was inspired by, too, and then the other works inspired by that - they're all priceless.

Taking Some Pictures or Something by @infinitevariety

On a road trip to the South Downs Crowley gives Aziraphale his phone to take photos of the views. However, Aziraphale doesn't know how the phone works and spends all day accidentally posting to Crowley's Instagram story.

What it says on the tin. Impossibly cute and wholesome!

No One You Can Save That Can't Be Saved by AstroGirl

Correspondence from Ilyrophon, Bureau of Earthly Affairs, temporary field agent assigned to gather intelligence on the angel who shall be referred to as "The Traitor" and his confederate, the Serpent of Eden.

An interesting twist on outsider POV, with Ilyrophon gradually coming to understand and sympathize with Aziraphale and Crowley's love for the Earth and each other.

Blessed/Cursed Retirement by DictionaryWrites

Liam Buttersby, a very normal, nine-year-old boy, makes a friend in the retiree who has recently moved to his village in the South Downs.

The retiree in question claims to hate it, and is a liar.

A fun Book Omens fic where Crowley becomes unexpectedly popular with the neighborhood kids.