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idontwanttowhy · 1 year

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Review: The Penthouse: War on Life (Season 1) (2020)

The makjang that taught me I could like makjangs...me!

Synopsis

Hera Palace is a luxury apartment building designed for the wealthy, by the wealthy, to be an elegant safe haven. Sim Su-Ryeon and her husband Ju Dan-Tae live in the penthouse, the pinnacle of wealth and success. Cheon Seo-Jin and her husband Ha Yun-Cheol live a few floors below, where Seo-Jin covets the position of the "Penthouse Queen". Outside of the Palace is Oh Yun-Hui, a poorer former classmate and rival of Seo-Jin's. Their paths cross again as the families' children apply to the premier Cheong-Ah Arts School, run by Seo-Jin’s family. The parents will stop at nothing to ensure their child(ren) attend(s) the school.

Su-Ryeon, the queen of the penthouse apartment, soon discovers a secret that tears her world apart and vows revenge, just as Yun-Hui does everything she can to guarantee her daughter achieves what she wanted and more.

AC Overall: 9.5/10, clicked for the hype, don't regret ANYTHING

I was intrigued by the dark and glamorous poster on Viki for Penthouse 2, and then like ~magic~ (or by silicon valley’s graceful listening devices and tracking systems) it would pop up randomly, and my “For You” page on TikTok became a kdrama recommendation hub (possibly for other reasons too, that shall not be mentioned), with Penthouse (tied with Vicenzo) being the most recommended. So I caved. I didn’t really know what I was getting into, but I knew it would be a departure from my newfound gems (slice-of-life dramas) and my og diamonds-a-dozen (rich-man-poor-woman-who-have-met-in-childhood-but-forgot-and/or-are-forced-together-with-a-sprinkle-of-trauma), but I didn’t expect THIS. A MESS of a drama that reminded me of the telenovelas I watched in high school for Spanish class.

My emotions ranged from shock and surprised that so many bombs were dropped so quickly (spoiler alert: someone dies within the first few minutes of ep 1) to disgust at the things the characters would do to each other (and themselves tbh), to awe at the way the plot just kept. on. thickening. It had been a while since I had been so enthralled by a drama. It’s so ridiculous it’s fascinating. Wild facial expressions, screaming contests and bitch-slaps galore, this drama has everything I didn’t know I wanted. So without revealing too much, I suggest you stop reading rn (unless you’ve seen it) and give it a shot if you don’t mind a little violence and lots of screaming. You never know, you might surprise yourself and like it too. And it’s best watched not knowing anything. I will warn, though, that to enjoy it, it’s best to keep in mind that it’s overdramatized. Don’t take it too seriously.

AC Review (Lots of spoilers)

Again. Read if you dare. And buckle in, because this is a whole essay:

So, lets start with how amazing the cast was. From Seo-Jin’s twitching red lip to her daughter Eun-Byeol’s crazy wild eyes (I really had to look away when she was on screen most of the time, it was a bit much tbh) to Yun-Hui and her Ro-Na’s screaming matches, the actors and actresses brought everything (and in Seok-Hun’s case, consistently nothing) to the set. Kudos to them. They did that.

That being said, though, it also made the first few episodes really hard to watch. Bullying is a tough for me to watch on screen in general, especially with how it’s portrayed in kdramas. True Beauty is another recent kdrama that stood out with the bullying scenes in the first few eps too; it seems kdramas bring it to another level that makes it especially hard to swallow. So that, paired with it being a makjang, made the bullying of Min Seol-Ah by the Hera Privileged really intense?! Grown-ass adults AND their children?! The ABUSE! There were so many moments during the bullying scenes that I was thinking “I can’t watch this. This is so bad”. I’d look away when the kids would interact with Seol-Ah, and I came very very close to stopping the show altogether because of how harsh they were, and still cringe at the thought of it. But the parents’ storylines kept me in, and the harshness of the bullying made the revenge arc have that much more of an impact too. [Still, I really wanna know what the hell all that is about. I know about Han and the often violent themes of a lot of (popular in the US and/or my circles) Korean movies and stuff but, it would be interesting to know more. Why does it seem that much more violent than what I’m used to seeing in American and British shows? Food for thought...or maybe it’s just me.]

Anyhow, back to lighter things. The side parents, especially Lee Gyu-Jin, the not-so-sharp lawyer and momma’s boy, were hilarious most of the time and a good comic relief from the drama surrounding the main three families. And of all people, he was the one to figure out Seo-Jin and Dan-Tae’s affair? Wild. Kang Ma-Ri, the mom whose husband is “in Dubai” i.e. prison, and works secretly as a masseuse/exfoliating lady at a sauna, seems to have an interesting story that I really hope gets expanded upon in later seasons, being that she’s able to maintain wealth and keep up the charade. Still, them and their children were god-awful, also torturing Min Seol-Ah and later Ro-Na, though not as intensely.

Speaking of Ro-Na, I was not a fan of hers at all. In the beginning she read as a brat who didn’t understand, or want to understand, where her mom was coming from when she said she shouldn’t sing, and was disrespectful at so many moments. Screaming in her face and all that. If I ever did that to my mom...But by the time she got to Cheong-Ah and was also harshly bullied (though not as badly or life-threateningly as Seol-Ah), I did feel some sympathy for her because no one should have to go through that. And from the teachers too? Ughhh. Which is why I was sooo happy when Gu Ho-Dong the PE teacher showed up and attempted to punish the bullies, and even the moms.

Su-Ryeon was pretty much the only redeemable character for me. She had good intentions throughout, and had remorse for not being able to take care of Seol-Ah despite her ignorance of the body-switch and bullying. Even Yun-Hui got a second chance with her at the end, despite being Seol-Ah’s ultimate killer. Yun-Hui seemed like she’d be redeemable at first, but she ended up just like the others in her willingness to forgo morals in order to get what she wanted, which...became muddled. At first her motivation was giving Ro-Na the life she couldn’t live because of Seo-Jin, but then once she got into Hera she exposed herself as also consumed by personal greed and even coveted the Penthouse Queen position despite Su-Ryeon’s kindness toward her. She was not as bad as the other parents but showed her “true colors”, especially towards the end of the season. Her hooking up with Dan-Tae made me sick. She and Seo-Jin became two sides of the same coin. All things (wealth) aside, had it been Yun-Hui slicing Seo-Jin, basically the same shit would’ve happened. I rest my case.

The whole Logan Lee thing was nice, and effective, but near the end he and Su-Ryeon were giving away their identities a little too soon imo. Su-Ryeon’s first mistake was revealing herself when she trapped the parents; it was so unnecessary, and I felt like from then on sooo many mistakes were made that ultimately led to her death. But, until the very end she cared about her step children despite how harsh they were towards her. Which is why she remained my favorite character.

I could go on and on and on about all of the things that happened throughout the season, but overall I thoroughly enjoyed the rollercoaster Penthouse had me on! I’m usually not into overacting but for whatever reason this show’s ridiculous situation + overacting combo made sense to me.

P.S.: Dr. Ha was my second favorite character, probably because he was so level-headed and although he was involved in the mess, he was much less central to it. And had the sense to get a psychiatrist to check Eun-Byeol out. Although, it did have me wondering...where were you for the past 15 years or so of her life, when she was developing this way?? sIR

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yourfangirlfriend · 3 years

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It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Six

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Five and a Half

A/N: idk if this is good but I’ve been putting off writing it and perfect is the enemy of done so here you go, I had fun

It’s not not serious.

At least, this seems to be the mutual conclusion you have both silently reached after that weirdly intimate night you never talked about, either.

And yes, you’re aware of how childish that is.

For two people voluntarily living in one of the more dangerous cities on the continent, it turns out you’re both pretty cowardly. But why put yourselves through the agony of all that when you could both instead play a game of emotional chicken to test where the boundaries are?

You go first the morning the two of you wake up in your bed. You both woke up in a tangle of limbs and slid out of bed after the second snooze alarm went off. He had just pulled on his jeans when he reached for the shirt you had folded the night before.

“Wait,” you said. You walked to the closet and pulled a crisp black shirt off its hanger, continuing to brush your teeth and you walked up and deposited it in his hand. “I washed this after you let me wear it home.”

That night we made pasta and I spilled sauce on my shirt and you took it off and fucked me in your kitchen until the chicken burnt-

He looks up at you, his eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head before pulling it over his shoulders. “Thank you.”

You give him a look before dipping into the bathroom to spit.

After a quick cup of coffee, you’re both striding towards your door when you stop short. He turns and looks at you, waiting for you to take another step and flick the deadbolt. Instead, you ask

“Are you going to be okay? Today, I mean. With...”

His face falls a little, like he was expecting to get out of this without you mentioning it. It makes your heart hurt.

“I’m fine,” he says, curtly. He drops his head to look at his shoes. You swallow.

“So...drinks tonight? Still?” You reach out and bop his hand with yours.

“Not if you don’t open the door.”

You roll your eyes, walking forward and flicking the bolt. You pull the door open and he catches it, holding it back for you as you take the first step out.

“...yeah. I’ll be back around 6,” he says as you finish locking the door. You drop the keys in your purse, straightening up as the two of you walk towards and out the doors.

“Bar or your place?”

“Mine.”

“You sure? It’s my turn to buy,” you say.

“No, it’s not,” he says as he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing that you climb in. You do and watch as he walks around the front to his side. “Besides, mines quieter.”

You nod, staring forward as he starts the car and pulls into the street. Like every morning, his hand falls to your knee and you feel content with his answer.

You can’t help yourself, though, when he pulls up in front of the school and parks, waiting for you to climb out. Usually, it’s a pretty quick, platonic affair- a quick “thanks, Javi” before you open the door and swing your legs out. This morning, though,

“You know,” he says when you reach for the handle. “You...you don’t have to take care of me.”

You drop your hand before turning back to face him. And maybe it’s the coffee you drank took quickly, or maybe it’s the way last night is still lingering in your head, but

“I like taking care of you.”

You reach out and pull his face to yours, letting the kiss linger before pulling away.

“See you tonight,” you said, flashing him a quick smile. If you’re not mistaken, you see the corner of his mouth twitch up before he remembers himself, and gives you a cool masculine nod. You climb out and watch as he drives away before you hear behind you:

“¿Es tu novio?”

You turn around and see three little girls from your class huddled together and giggling that they just caught the teacher doing something naughty. Despite yourself, you smile through your teacher's voice.

“Entrad, niñas. La clase está a punto de empezar.”

He makes the next move when he shows up outside the school, waiting against his car when you walk out that afternoon and he flags you down.

“Hey,” he says when you approach his car.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s up?”

“Was told to go home early,” he says. “Figured...” he waves his hand up, gesturing to you. “You got plans?”

“Was just going to swing by the liquor store. For tonight.”

“It’s not your turn to buy,” he says, moving out of the way so you can open the door. You send him a look.

“It’s the 90s. Let a girl buy you a drink, Javi.”

He smiles, and over his shoulder, you see one of the girls from this morning- Cara - sending you a shit-eating grin.

Despite yourself, you give her a little wave as Javi drives the two of you out of the parking lot.

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

It becomes a game after that. He picks you up from school. You ask him to stay the night again, and he does. The next morning, he kisses you goodbye in front of Steve, whose eyebrows you see pop up from the corner of your eye. That night, you stay over at his and leave the spare toothbrush you brought next to his in the bathroom. The next day, he comes to your house with take-out and a tape and the two of you fall asleep on the couch, drunk and full. Soon, you don’t remember a night where you aren’t sleeping in the same bed or whose turn it is to initiate a sleepover. You just meet at your smoking spot and then, inevitably, one of you will lead the other to their door for the night, and inevitably, the other one will stay.

The small reminders of each other begin to pile up in your respective apartments. A mystery toothbrush appears in your bathroom. Then there’s a jacket and two of his shirts hanging in your closet. A drawer in his bathroom slowly begins to fill with evidence of your presence- hair ties, bobby pins, the odd bit of makeup. During one of your drunk nights, when you are once again lamenting the lack of decoration, you draw a stick-figure portrait of the apartment - you, Javi, Steve, and the creepy silent man who you only ever see leave his place to buy fish - and tape it to his fridge. He tells you you hang around kids too much, but every time you come back, it’s still up.

Then the bigger things happen. You go to dinner with him and Steve. You bring him on a double date with Alessa and Frankie. He kisses you goodbye in front of the school every morning, and you reach out and hold his hand whenever the two of you walk outside- which you do now, by the way. You walk to the grocery store, you walk to the liquor store, you walk to the corner store to buy pre and post-coital smokes, and every time his hand finds yours. You’re still having sex, you still fuck, but now, sometimes, to what would once be your disgust, it’s slower. Softer. There’s eye contact and prolonged kisses and caressing and very little hair pulling.

And god. Now there’s cuddling.

You no longer sit across the sofa to hanger a drink. No, now your legs are in his lap or his arm is around your shoulder or some other horribly intimate design the two of you just naturally find yourself falling into whenever you’re in proximity. Now, after sex, he’s pulling you to him or you’re pulling him to you or you just both mutually descend towards each other. And when you’re all wrapped around each other, the worst thing of all happens. He talks.

It’s not like you hadn’t talked before. You were friends, after all. He already knew about your kids you taught, your parents, and some random, funny stories about your life. In turn, he had told you some stories about his mom, about the ranch, and about the people in his life. But now it’s different. Now, whenever you two are alone in the dark, bodies pressed against each other under the sheet with such softness it’s grotesque, the walls come down. He tells you about his mom's death, and how he didn’t cry for months. He tells you how afraid he is of himself, and how he worries she would hate the person he is. He tells you he doesn’t think he’s a good person, because of the women he’s hurt ( -“The DAY of?” “I’m not proud of it”-) and the people he failed (“-supposed to get her out, keep her safe, and I couldn’t-“) and how, though he won’t go into detail about it, he’s worried how numb he’s become to things, and that he’s only going to get number (“-you see so many people die, there’s got to be a point you just stop feeling that, like self-preservation, and that’s fucking scary-“). You listen. You think you may be the first person who has listened in a while. When he tries to apologize, that he shouldn’t have said that or that he’s a mopey sad sack or you don’t want to hear this, you kiss his hands.

“Javi,” you tell him. “I like listening to you. Anything you have to say.”

Looking back, you think the look he gives you the first time you said that was when you really knew. But now, you’re still playing dumb. You both are.

What’d he call it? Self-preservation?

To pay him back, you tell him about you. You try to match his scars, telling him about growing up in a loud, weird house you’d only learn at the age of fifteen was a commune. You tell him about all the times you caught your parents tripping out naked on drugs and having to drag them to bed, or how you had to watch your sister for days on end as a kid whenever they decided to go out on ‘spirit walks’, and how you eventually enrolled yourself in school after your mothers homeschooling attempts fell to the wayside. That one time when you were six and accidentally took a tab of acid your mother and father’s sometime lover, Sunshine, left on top of your peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You try and tell him the good things, too- how you speak five languages (“what?” “English, Spanish, German, Russian, and some Chinese.” “...what?” “My parents were communists!”), how you used to be really good at gymnastics (“is that why you can’t do a handstand?” “I can do a handstand-“ ), and the things in yourself that you’re afraid of- your denial, your anxiety, your bad habit of never calling your sister back and how that actually reveals you’re a sociopath. And in turn, he listens. He squeezes your hand. He asks you questions when you know he wants to and lets it be silent when you can’t bring yourself to answer.

About three months into this, you find yourself lying on your side one night, staring at his beautiful, stupid, snoring face as he drools against your pillow, and for the first time, you finally, finally, finally let yourself admit it.

It is serious.

---

“Well no shit.”

You scowl at Lisa over your glass.

“What? Like we all didn’t already know? For months?”

“Leave her alone,” Alessa elbows her. “I think it’s sweet.”

“You think everything’s sweet.” Lisa rolls her eyes. “You tell him yet?”

You bite the inside of your lip and look down at your drink. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Timing?”

“You spend all your time together.”

You shake your head, taking a swig.

“Coward.”

“What!”

“I said you’re a coward,” Lisa says as Maritza deposits the tray of shots between the two of you.

“Who’s a coward?” she asks sweetly.

“Eloise.”

“Yeah, I am,” you reach forward and take two of the shot glasses, snatching the one in front of Lisa before downing it.

“Hey!” She yelps.

You flip her off and down the second.

She huffs. “Bitch.”

You shake your head and march towards the bar to order another tray.

----------

To be fair, he knew it would be like this.

He had to. It’s you. It’s both of you. Two weirdly cagey people who don’t like having their guard down and never, ever want to be the one person who sticks themselves out for ridicule. The little dares over the past few months have been one thing, like you’re placing pebbles on a scale, seeing how long it takes until it collapses under the weight. Nightly sleepovers? Pebble. Toothbrushes? Pebbles. Sharing childhood trauma after a round of particularly kinky sex where you had your hands tied to the headboard and it inadvertently reminded you of the time you got your hands stuck in some old handcuffs your sister and you had found and you had to spend three hours with your hands looped around a bed frame because Tanya was seven and when she found your mom they were high on peyote and it turns out it takes five drugged-out hippies to find a tiny pair of keys to free a small girl in the woods after it’s already gotten dark and then he told you about the time his uncle had drunk too much shiner and tried to shoot an apple off his cousins head with a BB gun but missed and now the cousin has one eye kind of like Lorenzo and then you both chain-smoked cigarettes and wondered what a glass eye feels like - alright. Maybe five pebbles.

But...actually saying it?

Stones. Big, ugly stones. The kind that fall on cars.

No wonder you got shit-faced.

“Javvvvvvvi,” you sang through his door. You pounded out the melody that only made sense in your head. “Heyyyyy,”

You hear footsteps approaching from the other side and you stand up straight, ready to drunkenly seduce him with your pose when the door swings open and-

“Can I help you?” She asks, annoyed.

You take the woman in front of you in. She’s tall, with long honey blonde hair that falls across her shoulders. Her waist is bared under the halter top she wears, and you’re only a little jealous of the toned plane of her stomach and the long legs that stretch out from her short shorts.

“I...” you start.

“What are you doing? Get away from the door!” Javi appears from behind her, reaching out to take her arm and pull her back. His eyes fall on you, though, and he drops his hand.

“El- hey- I thought you were-?”

“I was...what uh,” you raise your hand to the woman. “What the fuck?”

“Who the fuck are you?” The woman hisses back. Javi reaches up and takes her arm, pulling her back gently.

“I told you not to answer the door-“

“No, I think I’ll leave-“ you toss your hands up. “Enjoy your night.”

“She’s not- it’s not like that-”

“OH PLEASE, I wasn’t born yester-“

The door behind you opens, and the two or you swivel you hear to see Steve enter holding two bags of food. He looks between you and Javier, then to the door.

“Hey,” he says finally.

You give him a pathetic wave. He waves back before turning to Javi.

“Is she-“

“Yeah,” Javier says. He points to his apartment “Could you actually-?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods a bit too quickly, moving behind him and disappearing into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Javier turns back to you.

“She needs a place to stay before we move her. I was going to tell you when you got back.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” you draw out. You grimace, before looking back to him. “...Sorry.”

“You really think I’d do that?”

You open your mouth to answer before he cuts in again.

“Are you drunk?”

“I-“ you start before huffing. Fucking cop. “Yes! Of course I’m drunk! It’s tequila night! I even, kindly, I might add,” you reach in your bag and pull out the bottle you picked up on the way home. “Got some for you, too!”

“Who did you think she was?”

“Javi-“ you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. This wasn’t supposed to be your night. Tonight was supposed to be about getting drunk with your friends, then getting drunk with Javi, then having drunk sex on your couch loud enough the upstairs fish guy would have to bury his head in what you only assumed was a pile of rotting fish carcasses in his trash to drown out your moans.

Now it’s this.

You shake your head and nod to your door, beckoning him to follow. It’s tense, and he watches over your shoulder as your hands shake trying to pull the right key. Once you manage to unlock the door, you hurry inside and deposit your things on the table, before turning back and facing him.

You open your mouth to say something-

-and then shut it again. You sigh.

“You thought I was sleeping with her.”

You snap your head back up to see him, cross-armed in front of you. You shake your head.

“This isn’t fair, I’m drunk. You’re not.”

He walks over to the bag you threw on the couch and unscrews the bottle you brought home. He takes a swig, holding eye contact as he gulps a third of the small bottle down, all while you watch flabbergasted.

“Say it,” he says, screwing the cap back on.

“You’re going to be sick-“

“Eloise.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve talked about it!” You snap. “We never- said! What we’re doing!” You drop your hands to your side and turn, walking to the kitchen and leaning forward onto the counter. Javi follows you up, eying you.

“You thought I was, though?”

“Yes! No? I don’t know!” You bring a hand to your face. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just got scared. I guess...I’ve been scared? Lisa thinks so, the bitch-“

“Scared of what? Me sleeping with someone else?”

“No! Not- necessarily-“

“You really think- Jesus, it’s like we never-“

“Hey, don’t!” You spin to face him. “Don’t turn this around on me. You never brought this up. We haven’t talked about this. We talked about everything else and are doing everything else like dinner dates and sweet sex and fucking movie nights but we haven’t...said anything! Saying things matters!”

He stares at you.

“I didn’t think it did! I thought I was fine with just...letting...ugh!” You bring the heels of your palms to your eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that last shot.”

“Eloise, what are you-“

“I’m not a coward!” You point at him. “I’m not! I’m just- it’s just-“

“No one said you were!”

“Lisa did!”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t...Ugh! They really make strong drinks at that bar! Because I haven’t said-“

“Jesus Christ, WHAT.”

Ooh, you wish you could just fall apart and have him see what’s running through your mind right now. You feel the anger in your stomach bubble. He’s really annoyed with you for thinking the worst of him, and maybe he has a right, but you two haven’t talked about it. You had just assumed- assumed he felt the same way, assumed the little intimacies have built up in such a way that you had something real and concrete, and especially that you both weren’t fucking other people. But the second she opened the door it felt like your worst fear had come true: you were the idiot who had let their guard down first and got hurt, because they were too stupid to realize what this was, and you couldn’t even be mad. Because you hadn’t talked about it. Because he never technically said he was with you.

But now he’s looking like he’s feeling the exact same way, only he’s the idiot. He’s the idiot for confiding in you and crying on your tits and telling you all those fears and worries and believing you when you kissed his hands and told him you thought he was a good man. He’s worried that you’ve always seen him this way- as the guy who would cut and run and betray you, and maybe if you think that, then it’s true. Maybe he was kidding himself into thinking someone like you could believe in his goodness, after all he’s done.

Fuck, you may be drunk but it does make you insightful.

It may be too late though. Because he’s dropped his hands from his hips, tired of waiting for an explanation. He’s making towards the door, murmuring something about having to work and it all just seems like it’s slipping out of your fingers like you can see he’s building up the wall again and this time you’re not going to be able to tear it down-

“Javi,” you say, your voice strained. He stops and turns to you, and you know you only have a few seconds to do it. You try and form the words, but your tongue isn’t working and maybe Lisa was right, maybe you are a coward, but you have to try.

“I like taking care of you.” You say, pathetically, dropping your hands to your sides.

A beat passes. He brings his hands to his hips, waiting for a further explanation. You sigh and walk down to stand in front of him. “I like having you take care of me...and...I haven’t wanted to tell you, because I don’t want to scare you but maybe that’s just me ‘projecting’ or whatever Alessa said. She’s really annoying now that she’s doing that psychology class-“

“El.” He says, not without softness. You feel his fingers come under your chin, gesturing for you to look up at him.

This wasn’t the plan. This was supposed to be a hookup. Then a friendship. You don’t want to lose that.

But now he’s staring down at you like that, and your drunk brain is turning over itself as you think maybe that train has already left. Maybe it left a long fucking time ago, and the two of you have just been hanging onto the back, waiting for the other person to let go first.

But you don’t want to let go. You never really did. You were just waiting for him to give you a sign so you could make it look like you were jumping off together instead of you pathetically holding on as he disappears behind you.

But from the way his thumb traces your jaw and his other hand reaches forward to take your hand in his, you think maybe he’s been utilizing the same strategy, and he’s been just as scared as you.

Well, now you can either let go or try to pull yourself up.

So.

Are you a coward or not?

He wets his lips before his eyes drop. He looks defeated. And at that moment you decide – fuck it.

Between the gymnastics and dragging your high parents to bed and all this fucking holding you’ve been doing inside of you, you’ve got strong enough arms.

So.

Fuck it.

“El, I don’t-“

“I love you,” you say without thinking. “And yes I’m tequila drunk, but I don’t think that takes away from-“

You’re stopped as he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, cutting you off. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. You feel him pulling at your top and you shimmy it off and over your head, tossing it to the side before dipping your hands down and unbuckling his belt as he unbuttons his shirt before you. You drop your hand down the front of his pants, jerking him softly as he moans into your mouth. You feel him guiding you to the couch, and when the back of your knees hit the arm you drop down and begin to pull his pants down for him as he rids himself of his shirt. You’re about to take him in your mouth when he pushes you down, your back hitting the cheap leather as he crawls over you, pulling your skirt up to your hips. He pauses.

“You always skip the underwear in girls' night?”

“Only when I’m coming back to you.”

That gets him, because a second later he’s between your legs, thrusting inside of you. You let out a cry and drop your head back, exposing your neck to him as he continues to pump into, his hands reaching behind and you and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“Say it again,” he says.

“I don’t wear underwear-“

“No,” he growls, dropping his hand down between your legs to play with you. You let out another little cry.

“I love you,” you say. “I-I’ve loved you for a long time- ahhh!” The next thrust hits a little too well. “Ah, fuck, Javi- right there-“

“Keep going-“

“YOU keep going- fuck, has your dick gotten bigger?”

“El-“ he lets out a moan. Taking advantage of the moment, you slip out from under him and switch positions, pressing him back onto the couch and climbing atop of him. His hands settle on your hips as you ride him, pulling sounds from him that echo around your living room. When you cum he’s not long after, and the two of you collapse onto each other, breathing heavily as you come down with his hand holding the back of your neck.

“Hey,” he says finally. You lift your head and sit up, looking down at him. His eyes are glassy, and the look on his face makes you giggle.

“Are you drunk?”

“Yes,” he says. “But a wise woman once said that doesn’t take away from what I have to say.”

“She sounds smart, you should fuck her,” you say, moving to stand. He catches your wrist, pulling you back down onto his lap with a bounce.

“Give a girl a few minutes before round two-“

He cuts you off with a kiss. It’s slow and soft and you melt into it. The way you always melt into him.

When he pulls away, you chase after his grinning lips. He brings a hand to the side of your face, tracing his fingers down the side of your cheek.

“I love you, too.” He says. “I don’t know what that’s worth…but I do.”

You lean in, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

"Baby," you say "It's worth everything."

In the morning, you’ll have to contend with the knowing look Steve gives the two of you before asking “Good night?”, a joke that earns him a look from Javi and a deep blush and muttered apology from you. You’ll have to put up with the squeals from Maritza, Lisa, and Alessa when you tell them in the staff room during lunch. You’ll even get a look from your upstairs neighbor when you pass him and his fresh fish that next afternoon. Most of all, you’ll have to consider what the fuck this means for you and Javi and this scary, exhilarating little life you’re leading.

But.

Right now, you’re naked and smoking a cigarette on the couch with the man you love who loves you back, and you’re both laughing, and that's more than enough.

taglist: @fuckoffbard

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier Peña x oc #narcos #it's nothing serious #fic

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firelonewolf · 4 years

Text

Irresistible

Summary: basically the reader like Deadpool and Deadshot and well, Deathstroke. Let's just a few tweaks from all of three of them. And let's say Billy Butcher sort of loves the wild card type of woman as well.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader

A/N: I figured this might be interesting for Butcher to have. Gonna admit, I used google translator for the Arabic. Sorry if it's wrong. Also remember the reader mainly gonna be like Deadpool, you'll have to expect some dirty language! Not mention I had to, because Deadpool's humor hilarious. Originally I had this edited, but Tumblr messed up, again. And I'm too lazy for it.

Being a product of a lab wasn't the best. Besides the point when they decided to throw you in an orphanage. Where you spent your days hating life because no one ever wanted you. Than before you knew it, you ended up being adopted in middle school. All because you picked pocket the wrong person, a man who was blind. His name was Idris Salah a man from Egypt. Little did you know, he knew from being a US Marines before. A lonely man who took it upon himself to spend time with you. Where you learned self defense, he pushed you to use it for good instead of bad. Even made you learned more skills that were useful. You could say he was your father figure.

It should also be mentioned he didn't force religion on you or anything. But Idris wasn't very religious himself either, but was somewhat. He mainly taught you what it was like to have family, hes a good man. A man who's side you still stick with.

Like when both of you found you were a product of Vought, and than when it came out all superheros were made in labs. And you found out you were one of them. Idris was the one who told you it didn't make you any less of who you were. Which was a superhuman. What could you do though?

Well, you had regenerative healing no matter what. But you had low leveled enhancement, with strength, stamina, agility. But you had enhanced eyesight and dexterity and had excellent marksmanship. Skilled with swords. Immunity to diseases and chemicals. Than on top of it you learned Spanish, Arabic, Japanese, Urudu and a couple of others. You mainly spoke Arabic with Idris to not lose that.

And ever since you became an adult, things took a different turn. Before you knew it you became a mercenary somewhat. Which lead you ending up working for other people for money. Paying your and Irdis's bills and groceries and saving for his retirement. And than becoming a parent didn't help.

You had a daughter, and you let her stay with her father. He refused to give you full custody knowing what you can do. Her name was Samara, but liked to be called "Ara." She liked being called that for some reason. Perhaps it had a better ring to her? You're not sure but she was one of the most important people to you.

Today was suppose to be the normal. Normal as in do your usual assassinations of who ever. Send a message to whoever. Anything that was scheduled for your job. This who were, nothing else. After dropping Ara at school you headed to the park apparently a client wanted to disgust a business opportunity.

Wearing a dark gray sweater with black pants and boots. With some makeup to your eyes pop out than there was a backpack on your back. Black shades on your eyes. Sitting on park bench leaning your back against it. In the middle of Central Park in early October. Let's say you looked badass even with casual wear, and you bet your ass you knew it too.

Some sat behind you, you could sense it despite your back turned. "Chilly day isn't it?" You hear a feminine voice say. Shrugging your shoulders in response.

"Indeed. Nothing compare to the weather in a few months" you remark glancing around the area. Making sure no one else was around in a earshot.

"Agree. NYC in winter one of the worst places to drive" she remarks back to you. "If I'm correct, your Death Strike correct?" She inquires to you in response. That makes you laugh pulling a cigarette out not lighting it. Just biting down on it still appreciating the ritual.

"One and only" you remark. Touching the paper of the cigarette. Enjoying the taste of non smoked tobacco. Simply enjoying it to remain less stressed at the point. "Have a job for me sweetheart?"

A chuckle came from her at this point. "Madelyn Stillwell CEO of Vought International, and boy, or should I say boys, do I have a job for you. You might like this one than your usual. You interested?" She inquires to you with a grin.

"Is there money involved?" You remark with a smirk.

"Lots of money," she remarks. "Come back to Vought International with me, we'll disgust." Reluctantly you agreed following her as she made casual conversation with you. Soon enough taking off her coat and bringing you to a meeting room.

Never did you expect yourself to be in the Seven's floor, ever. Moving to the meeting room you than spotted the one, the only, Homelander. Scout boy that Vought tried to present to the world, but you knew it was a lie. No one was ever a good two shoes, especially someone with his gifts. Homelander noticed your presence and made eye contact seizing your up. "Makan jamil" you say in Arabic observing the place.

"You speak Arabic too? Your file never said that." Stillwell comments to you.

"Learned it when I was twelve," you remark back. "Let's disgust business. I'll get it done soon a possible," you say to her.

"Wait a minute before we start. You're the mercenary, Death Strike?" Homelander inquires to you making you chuckle.

"Blondie, what did you expect? A man six foot and bald?" You grin in response. Taking the fake cigarette out of your mouth placing it in your pant pocket. "Sorry to be a disappointment."

Homelander flashed his Hollywood in your direction. "Its just, your too pretty to be a mercenary. Figured you to be a model or well, a bartender something more common." He remarks back to you with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Flattering will get you everywhere" you turned away to hide your smile. "Don't let me deceive you, I'm quite the wild card type" replying to him. This seem to catch his interest.

"I wouldn't underestimate her," Stillwell pipes up. "Shes never missed a shot. Killing her isn't a solution either" she comments. Before her gaze meeting yours. "I've gone through some old Vought files. You were registered under a different name, I believe it was Wilson or something as your surname. Took a while, but you're basically immortal. Regenerative abilities with immunity to many chemicals and diseases. Everything just grows back, like an axolotl. Others think your a psychopath or not mentally all there. Some believe she had the ability to manipulate bullets. Mind telling me that if that's true?" She shrugged your shoulders again that.

"I'm just here for my contract and money. Now who do you want killed?" You remark getting right down to business. "Need guys balls smacked into reality? How about nice bullet to massage their head?" You inquire to them. "Which one, I have a variety options!" Awaiting the answer. Leaning your waist against the table.

Both of them glanced at each other before Homelander leaned forward. "Perhaps for now, I need you to teach a lesson to someone. Someone named William "Billy" Butcher. We want you to send the guy to message, anything of your picking." Butcher, interesting surname in your opinion.

Must've been the temperamental type, it had to be a trait in the family. Why else would there ancestors gain the surname Butcher? "Got it. He should be an interesting one, Butcher. Twist of his balls should turn change his mind about doing whatever hes been doing to piss you off." You remark, "I'll expect the money to be in my account in about let's say, by at least eight tonight. Won't be long before I have him in my sights." You say heading to the elevator of the tower. About to take a turn at the elevator. "Hope I see you around blondie" winking with a charming smile. Leaving knowing you've caught the interest of the American golden boy.

Having fun with it when you could was great. Might as well take advantage make sure your rememberable, and you know you are. Heading out of Vought International you headed straight to be loft. Idris sat in the recliner listening to the radio with his cane by him. "(Y/N)? What took you so long? Actually, I'd figured you be at the bar by now." Idris says not turning his head.

"Oh you know, I had to go tickle someones ball. Had to put my hand to work, give a little anal" you remark. To feel Idris stare and turning to see the expression on his face. "I'm kidding! Had another business opportunity. Have a date with a Mr. Butcher, give him a nice signal maybe convince him to doll himself up for me."

"Sometimes I question why no orphanage doesn't give a receipt" Idris comments to himself.

"Than who would annoy you?" You remark as you grab your suit and mask and weapons. Only to hear the remark of a annoyed sigh from Idris. "I'll be back" you say to mimick Arnold Schwarzenegger from Terminator. It only takes a few minutes to get the suit on and the weapons.

Your suit was a body tactical that had two colors on it in general. That had gloves and boots that went well, a friend name Ferret designed it. Your suit mostly had a scheme that matched the color of Mars which is an iron oxide color. With some orange on it and dark black on it. Mostly having a belt around you holding your handguns. Than two wakizashi. Let's say your suit matched a certain mercenary that didn't want to join the boy band of the X-men and a hitman part of a Suicide Squad. But you know one thing for sure, you're more badass than those two. Than your mask was plain with those schemes with eye shaped holes. On your right eye was a red scope. Gadgets were even on your belt, that should be mentioned.

Grabbing your backpack with a sniper slinging it on your back. Than hid a knife in your boot just in case. Heading out you called a favorite Uber driver of yours, his name is Deshpande. Why was he your favorite? He never questioned why you had these weapons. Simply drove while making casual conversation.

And let me tell you, this guy was epic for an average joe! As you waited on the sidewalk to see the usual little green car pull up. Getting in the passenger seat of the car. "Hello Deshpande" you say at the scrawny man beside you in the driver seat.

"Hello Ms. Strike, how is your day?" He says as he begins to drive.

"Oh, you know the usual. New job, but today I just have to make a guy shit his pants and its over and done with." You casually say sitting back into the seat. "How was your day?"

"Well my girlfriend is great. She keeps pressuring me to get a haircut" he comments. To where you pull out your found watching the red dot that you've gotten on your target. "She thinks my hair is too long. But other than that things have been great!" He comments with a bright smile.

"Oh! So my advice worked from last time. Told you so" you lightly push him. "Your too cute to resist for her." You remarked to him proudly.

"I am very grateful for your assistance Ms. DS," he remarks back. "My girlfriend and I have been happy ever since I threatened my romantic rival. And I scared him away from ever contacting her," he says with a complete innocent smile. Yes, you gave him advice to terrorize the fellow away, but it worked in his favor. Not like either one of you cared though, not like anyone would stop you.

"I'm so proud of you. I feel like a parent, well I am one. But one towards my own son!" You say with your hand over your heart. A little tear slipped out from under your suit. Than he pulled up to two buildings with an alleyway in between each. "Okay, Deshpande, I need you to wait here. Because I'll need a ride back, and I will give you the money for being my getaway driver and all. Wait here, and do not panic. Be back in a sec!" You cheerfully say before exiting the car. Than climb up on the roof of one building. Sitting down you sit above the alleyway and take your sniper out. Than glance at your phone to see a transaction of around 1,000,000 added to it. With a smirk you relax and adjust your gun in the right position.

While waiting you begin to whistle a song like a bird casually. Than spot a group of men walking out into the alley. "Butcher would you just listen!?" One muscular says trailing after the guy with the long jacket and dark hair.

"Give me a good reason why!" He remarks back in a rough accent. You had to admit, he's cute. And than that accent was the icing on the cake! It was like magic to you. Good thing you didn't have to kill the guy. Beginning to aim you targeted his shoulder and steadied yourself at the target. As they continued on rambling your finger snaked to the trigger. Than at the open opportunity you shot and moved fast. Slinging the sniper around you and racing to the direction of Deshpande and using rope to go down to the ground. Cussing could be heard as you raced to the car.

Deshpande surprised at you holling ass into the car, once you got in stepped on it. Amused you laughed still hearing cussing from the target. But it didn't mean they didn't see you. Kimiko ended up on the roof where you were before, and searched the area. Hughie on the other hand was flipping out while Frenchie was trying to apply pressure on the wound. From the bullet hole it was deep but not deep enough for fatal damage. Blood was covering the shirt though and jacket.

MM raced to find any sign of the car he heard racing away. But that was merely only a couple of hours ago. Frenchie managed to get the bullet out and they cleaned Billy's wound. Billy on the other hand was furious, whoever this person it must've been from the cunts at Vought. Particularly Homelander sending him a message. He immediately was out on a hunt despite the protest of Hughie trying to reason with them. That perhaps Vought forced you to do this, Butcher thought otherwise. A inside job like this was a willing one, if they really wanted someone forced it would've been Black Noir who did it.

Nah, you agreed to it willingly for the money they gave you. And you must've known something about them, he wanted to find out. So when Billy a couple days later found out where he could find you, he took the opportunity. Now he figured whoever this guy was, he was gonna beat them up than get answers. It had to be a guy named Wade or Lloyd some douchebag name like that.

Walking in the bar it was partly empty but somewhat not. Light music played in the background as he walked in. Guys at the bar smoked and talked amongst themselves. Cigarettes filled the air as he began to glance around the area. For some reason he was expecting the guy to show up any time. As he leaned his side into the bar table a the bartender glanced at him. It was some tall guy with long hair and a beard but nerd looking. He also had glasses with somehow a nerdy style. "Give me a scotch will you?" He says to the bartender.

In the corner he spotted a woman. Wearing a dark orange fleece with white fur and long diem skirt and a plain cream fleece shirt could be seen. Than a pair of matching light brown boots. Her hair was (y/h/l) that was (y/h/c) it was a nice style on her, she rocked it better than most woman, well some looked great with it but she owned it in his eyes. Butcher watched as she threw darts at he board all without having to pause for a brief moment. Each one seen out of instinct and well lots of practice.

One last dart glided through the air and hit the center of the dart bored. Chugging the rest of your margarita and took the darts down before heading to bartable. "Instead of a margarita make it something different, surprise me." You remark to the bartender.

"I'm surprised your not a drunk by now" he comments.

"Ferret, my dear good friend, alcohol doesn't affect me and we know this. Not like it could kill my liver either" you remark. Taking the cigarette that was on your ear off of it.

"Right, sort of unfair though. Anyway drink coming up!" He says turning away to make a mixture. You put the cigarette in your mouth and dig in your pocket for the lighter. Than bring it to the tip of the orange strip of it. With a click you attempt to light to which it doesn't after a few tries.

"Im 'arghab fi altadakhiyn ealaa 'ayi hal" you mutter to yourself tossing the lighter in your pocket.

"Need a light, love?" You suddenly hear than turned to see the guy from a couple of days ago, Butcher. What a coincidence, especially since you admitted to yourself you found the target attractive. Did he know who you were? Probably not, no one ever really knows. Taking the cigarette out you keep it tucked between your fingers out to him. He lites it to which you bring it to your lips.

Puffing out a small cloud of smoke soon enough. "Thanks" you remark to him. "I don't really smoke often so I forget to refuel my lighter," you say before placed in front of was your drink. A nice from what it smelt like an New Zealand beer before tasting it.

"No problem," he remarks back to you. "What was that you were speaking? I don't recognize it." He comments facing forward.

"Arabic" you answer. "My adoptive father speaks it, he taught me that." You comment taking in a bit of the cigarette before bellowing the smoke out.

"Really? Must be a swell guy."

"He is for a sassy old man." You remark back in a chuckle. To which Butcher also chuckles at also.

"Billy Butcher, and you are?" He inquires to you.

"Margot Robbie" you remark with a smirk. Than see his facial expression full of disbelief at that. A laugh escapes you, than stop "kidding. Its (Y/n)," you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

"Lovely name" he remarks.

"I suppose." You remark back him. "So" you pause than bit your lip a bit "come here often?" A laugh croaked out the man with an accent.

"Not really, waiting for someone." He remarks back to you.

"Oh?" You say already knowing the answer. With your other hand snaking away and reach near your knife hidden. "May ask whom?" You inquire to him. Attempting to hide your grin and remain serious.

"Some guy who shot me. Found intel that he'll be here any second" he says not paying attention to your expression. Biting your tongue, not too hard to keep a laugh from breaking out. "Wait I until I punch the cunt in the face for the damage he's caused."

He thinks your a man? Why does everyone think your a man? Is this considered sexist or just someone boldly assuming without considering? Did you look guy with a suit on? How the heck was this happening? You'd think they'd thought they'd remember some hot chick like yourself. Oh well, it's easier to deceive them this way. "He must've really made it on your shit list for you want to find him." You comment still trying to hide your smirk from emerging.

"The cunt shot me and ran off" he retorts back. Cunt? He really favored that word apparently, but hey, you've been called worst. "Coward, that's what he wants. And he missed! What a lousy shot. What a bad hitman." He remarks back to which that clicked for you. Immediately snaking your blade out you held it against his throat. Taking in a big sip from your drink finishing it before placing it back down.

Keeping a grip on your knife and put your cigarette in the near ashtray. "I never miss" you darkly comment. "I meant to shoot your arm. To left where purposely missed a major artery an your broken. Could've given you a fatal injury to where a surgeon would have to repair that bone of yours." You explained slyly with a dark glint your eyes. Yeah, this guy was cute but you wouldn't let him down talk you. From how close you were without realizing it, Billy could smell your shampoo and conditioner. Milk and honey scented it over took you entirely making you smell sweet. "By the way, I'm actually a mercenary. I only do a few hitman jobs" you say. Turning your gaze to him to where your eyes met. "But it's not my fault you ended up on my naughty list" you comment.

"I knew you were a girl" he says with a grin. "Rough childhood, love? Oh right, you answered it already. Orphans always have problems, huh? What did mommy and daddy go out for milk?" He says trying to set you off, which your sure is the last thing he wanted to experience.

"They dropped me off at a fire station after trying to leave me high and dry at an hospital. A firetruck almost ran me over, and a homeless man almost peed on me" you remark.

"(Y/n)" Ferret says giving you a look. "If your gonna fight this guy take it outside this time, please? You have that crazed look in your eye, it makes me nervous. Its like for me seeing a bull head to the China shop" he comments. Casually just standing there behind the bartable.

"It'll be fine" you remark back. "I'll be gentle" you reply.

"You talkative, huh? If only I could sow your pretty little mouth shut." He remarks to you that makes you chuckle.

"They've already tried that with someone liked me" before clicking your tongue "it didn't go well." You comment with a light shrug of your shoulders.

"Highly doubt that" he remarks. "It should of been a field for them!" He grins to you.

"Perhaps if you like a sucky movies" you sarcastically say. "The movie was awful" you remark. "Anway, I have way better things to do than sit here and argue with you, Butcher. Lovely accent though!" Before wiping out a fuzzy pair of cuffs. "Don't judge me either" before cuffing him to the bartable with his left wrist. Stepping back off of the bar stool and dropping a few dollar bills for Ferret. "Don't you look lovely with fuzzy leopard printed cuffs!" You grin highly amused at this. To meet the grumpy face of the English accented man.

"You fucking cunt" he growls at you.

"I know honey, I'm great. Catch you on the flip side Billy" you tapped his nose with your finger. "Your adorable by the way" with a cocky smirk overtaking your face. Before walking out with a howl of laughter as you leave the bar. Oh, Billy wanted payback, but at the same time he was sort found you interesting despite the chatterbox in you.

___

When Billy tracked you down once more his blood was pumping. Excitement was sort of in him as at the thought of catching you. Despite most of the other members of the Boys thinking it was over between you two, they didn't know about Billy's slight interest in you. Part of him denied it but found it utterly thrilling the dynamic between you two. Sort of like messing with a forest fire, it was hot and it'll spread but he wanted to fan the flames. Hughie was confused when he saw the sudden spark in Butcher, but didn't figure it out what could cause it. Billy was quick to leave without a second word when he came across something on his laptop.

Soon enough he was dashing out with his heart pumping wildly. Going to the location given he was surprised to end up at some random place. An apartment building? What could you possibly be doing here? He would've head in until he saw a guy fly out. There you were a tight leather orange outfit that outlined your curves. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail and your mask was up resting on your head. In your hand was a pepperoni pizza with a lot of cheese on it. "You know Dick, ha I can never get over that nickname. Dick. Just so funny," you say almost taunting manner as you walk to the guy on the ground. "I've heard of stalkers before, but your something else. Kiddnapping some poor lady dog! You monster." You crouch in front of him still munching on the pizza. "All because she said no to getting in your car. Aww, what stupid things we do when were young" you grin. "Listen here bub, I'm not here to kill you, unless Kiu calls it. But what I will tell you, since she said no blasting your brains out, I'm gonna do one simple thing. Wanna know?" You inquire with a grin. Shaken the guy let's out a whimper at this side of you. You pull out a knife and direct it at his family jewels. "I will cut off your manhood if I had to, but since she was generous to you, I'll let you go." Moving the knife away the guy was about to run before directed it at his Adam apple. "But know this, if Kiu calls me again about a pest problem, I will not hold back next time. Got it?" You say to just than finish your pizza but still hold a threatening manner in your eyes. The guy nods before you stand up. "Scram, before I change my mind. And give the dog back!" Quickly seeing the guy sprint to car and drive away fast.

Pulling the mask back on you dust your glove off and begin to walk away. Billy was surprised by this, your a mercenary but not only that a person with a heart. From what it hes just seen you protected a young woman from a crazed stalker apparently. Did you do these things often? He shook his head at it though. Now was the time to get you. You weren't paying attention until you were tackled to the ground.

About to fight the person off your wrist were grabbed and slammed to the ground. Than met the cocky grin of Billy fucking Butcher. "Hello love" he remarks back.

Smirking you held back a giggle but if peeked out a bit. "Man, this sucks. I usually prefer being on top," you say with a cocky grin. Billy was quick to grab you by the throat and slam you against the wall. "Kinky." You comment with a shit eating grin. "Could you go a little harder, can't you daddy?" Fake moaning at this predicament you've ended up in.

"For such a pretty face you have its hard not want to punch your fucking lights out" he remarks back to you.

"Trust me, pretty sure you'd love to see my lights get brighter" you remark back.

"In your dreams" he remarks back. "How much did Vought pay you for your hit? Did they know you missed my head?" He inquires to you.

"They paid me a million. All for you to mind your own dang business" you remark back. Than noticed the rain gutter pipe. "Nothing more than that handsome" you grin at the idea entering your head.

"Really? That's it?" He says unimpressed.

"What did you expect from them? There trying to play nice. But hey, I didn't care at first about the job. Than they mentioned money, and well money a nice thing to have to pay bills, you know?" You say preparing legs. "Still glad I didn't have my bullets kiss your brain either, darling." With still a cocky grin wiped on your face. "I really appreciate this cat and mouse dynamic between us. It's sort too irresistible to resist, well like me."

"Really? I think someone like yourself more likely has a thing for being tied up." He says with a victorious grin at you as if he won. You bucked your hips which caught him off guard. Than you kneed him in the junk and punched him across the face. Your hair that was tied in a ponytail fell apart partly getting your face. Than you took a grappling hook and tied his hands to the rain gutter pipe out. Tying his hands to the back of his head to it enough to where he could sit at least. Laughing at this defeat you take his phone and snap a picture of him. "Hey! What do you think your doing?" He inquires to you. Than your quick to send it to recent contact which is marked as Hughie.

"And frankly, I think you have a thing for being tied up in particularly by me" you remark tossing the phone by his knee. Than kneel in front of him. "But who doesn't after all?" You shrugged before packing his cheek and turned on your heels and pull your mask on. "Can't wait until the next time you find me again!" You wave with the back of your hand. Laughing to yourself as you saw Deshpande pulling up in his car. "Hataa almarat alqauidmat, eazizi!" Billy couldn't believe he ended up in this situation again. To think he had you, but fell for your charm, but he couldn't help it, it was hypnotic. Like a drug, but he couldn't wait to chase you down again.

#the boys amazon #homelander #the boys #billy butcher #frenchie #mothers milk #the boys season 2 #black noir #billy butcher x reader #starlight x hughie #hughie campbell #x reader

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kuramirocket · 3 years

Text

Growing up in California in my grandmother's house, surrounded by tías, tíos, and all my cousins, I always felt a deep connection to my Mexican-American roots. Every generation of my father's family has had incredibly different experiences that reflect much about American history.

My great-grandfather on my abuela's side, Daniel Martinez, grew up in Mexico and immigrated to Los Angeles. Eventually, he saved enough money to open a neighborhood market, which is where he met my great-grandmother, Guadalupe Miranda Martinez. She had come from Mexico to Los Angeles with her mother and brother as a young teenager. They soon married and began having children. When he lost his business in the 1920s, the family turned to migrant farm work. They were forced to use segregated water fountains and bathrooms and my darker-skinned tíos and tías were sent to Mexican schools, while those with light skin and blonde or red hair were allowed to attend schools with white students.

Unhappy with the segregated schools, my great-grandfather joined up with other families to open the East Barrio School for Latinos in Claremont, CA — fighting the status quo is part of my heritage! They taught reading and writing in Spanish and learned Mexican history at a time when it was hard to show pride about being Mexican.

My great-grandfather on my abuelo's side, Catalino Alba, came from Mexico during the Revolution. He met my great-grandmother when he immigrated to Gallup, NM, where he helped build the Santa Fe Railroad. He was a musician and inspired my abuelo José Alba to sing, practice traditional Mexican dance, and become an accomplished classical guitarist. As a child, there was never a family party where my abuelo didn't play guitar while my abuela, tíos and tías, and cousins sang along. Perhaps this is where I got my love for the performing arts!

My great-grandfather moved to San Bernardino, CA, to work on the railroad and my abuelo José Alba grew up in the barrio where he and his siblings slept head to foot. With little food at home, he often asked the neighbors for fruit from their fruit trees. He was compelled to eat dirt, which he later learned was a natural response to the lack of iron that he needed in his diet. As a kid, he wasn't allowed to swim in a public pool without a certification of vaccination. He would often get glass stuck in his shoes because the soles were so thin and worn out — he couldn't afford anything else. At one point, glass punctured his foot, and as a result he developed lockjaw, which was nearly fatal.

When he could work, he made money selling oranges and picking potatoes. He says the first thing he did when he had money was to go down to Main Street to have his shoes shined by a young boy. He told that boy that he would come every week because he knew he was trying to make his own way too.

There were 12 kids in the family and my abuelo is proud that his mom figured out a way to send them to school as soon as it was possible. She understood the value of education. Even though it was hard for them, she made it a priority.

This is my abuelo and abuela's wedding above — so classic. I always thought our ancestors were Spanish, but I learned through genetic testing that they were Native American, with roots that may go back as far as the Mayan civilization. We've been here from the beginning!

My parents, Mark and Catherine Louisa Alba, were so different . . . but they had the same hairstyle! I know that when my dad was growing up it was difficult for him and his parents to be Mexican-American. The hyphen wasn't an option back then.

My abuelo had only learned English when he transferred to grammar school at around 6 years old, and he was way behind as a result. Like many others of their generation, my grandparents didn't teach their children, including my dad, to speak Spanish. My abuelo says that he didn't even think about it, but I wonder if he associated it with a difficult transition in his life.

I want my girls to embrace their Latino roots, know how much we have contributed to this country, and understand that the road ahead is richer when we acknowledge and embrace our heritage. I want them to learn Spanish like their great-grandparents. I'm incredibly proud of my diverse heritage and I want my daughters to feel the same way.

Jessica Alba is something of a triple threat: She's managed to achieve major success as an actress, fashion designer, and business mogul. It's hard to imagine anyone not wanting to work with Alba, but early in her career she had a hard time getting roles because of her race.

"They couldn't figure out my ethnicity," Alba said. "I would always go out for 'exotic.' They were like, 'You're not Latin enough to play a Latina, and you're not Caucasian enough to play the leading lady, so you're going to be the "exotic" one.' Whatever that was."

Of course, Alba eventually ended up starring in hits like Fantastic Four, Into the Blue, and Good Luck Chuck. So, yeah, it's safe to say she proved those people wrong.

And not only is this actress leading by example; she's also taking steps to change the game herself. The creation of Alba's cosmetics line, Honest Beauty, which she founded as part of her brand, The Honest Company, in 2015, stemmed from her own struggles as a young girl trying to find a foundation that matched her unique complexion. "I didn't feel like, when I was younger, that there were a lot of things offered to women of color," she said.

So Alba went out and made her own. "The philosophy around starting this beauty line is about enhancing who you are instead of cover up and turn you into somebody else," she said.

Jessica Alba’s startup The Honest Company is a veritable success — approaching over $350 million in sales during a year in which many companies struggled — but venture capitalists turned up their noses to the idea at first.

In 2009, Alba had a real issue: She couldn’t find baby products for her newborn that were guaranteed to be safe and eco-friendly. After having an allergic reaction to one of the allegedly baby-safe detergents she bought, she developed her idea the same way many successful entrepreneurs get started: She pitched building the solution she herself wished was on the market.

Alba pitched serial entrepreneur Brian Lee on her idea, who reportedly passed after saying it wasn't “very promising.” The feeling that others don’t see potential in you or your business idea is a familiar frustration for budding entrepreneurs. At the time, Alba remarked that she felt nobody took her seriously as an entrepreneur, or even believed in her idea, even though she knew there would be demand.

But just five years later, The Honest Company reached unicorn status, valued at over one billion dollars. What changed in those five years that let her take her failed pitch to becoming a success story?

To perfect your pitch, experiment

Fast forward to 2012. Alba is now in Washington, lobbying for an update to reform the 1976 Toxic Substances Control Act. Buoyed by her growing knowledge on the subject, she went back to Lee and pitched him again.

This time, her deck was much more concise, down to less than 30 minutes from start to finish. In a world where most entrepreneurs give up after a rejection or two, Alba instead had spent the years between their two meetings pitching her idea to friends, getting holes poked in her positioning,and answering each and every supply chain question that arose.

Another change had happened over the last three years: Venture capitalists like Lee, whom she was pitching, had all started young families. Alba’s pitch was rock solid, and as an added bonus her prospective investors wanted the product themselves.

Lee said yes to the second pitch. The first year The Honest Company was in business, it reported an astonishing $12 million in revenue, a number that has only increased each year. After facing initial rejection on her pitch, Alba’s decision to persevere has led The Honest Company to dramatic success.

At first, everyone told Alba she should start with one product, then expand once that was successful. But this didn’t gel with Alba’s vision of a complete line of baby-safe products; the founder knew parents who wanted clean products wanted a brand that could provide multiple solutions.

Ultimately, Alba ignored the conventional advice and launched with 17 products, which many people believed was too many. But because she didn’t compromise on that, either to venture capitalists or herself, the launch was a total success.

Sources: (×) (x) (x) (×)

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kara-is-a-cutie · 3 years

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It's really jarring when I hear people talk about how they don't know these things.

For me and many other black people, it's almost expected of us to know full american history through and through. I would go to school and sit through whatever the history classes were teaching, and then I would go home and sit through more hour long lectures on the entirety of black history (given by my parents/family).

One time they were quizzing me and I said Malcolm X when I meant MLK, not only did I get yelled at with continued scolding/judging that lasted years, but the history lessons increased ten fold after that. I was only like 4th grade.

It's the same for many of my friends to, their parents never missing an opportunity to go into history mode. You can imagine how fun black childhood is when you have to learn how to act and present yourself just to be allowed to exist. What it's like carrying all these atrocities in your little head. My friends and I have just had many conversations on how black kids are never granted childhoods, and how tiring it really is. Just the way we as a people are constantly passing on this generation trauma, and black suffering, it's painful to think about.

This isn't anything against anyone, it's just always crazy when people are like "oh I never knew this" "I just found this out" when I've been expected to know this my whole life. I mean its understandable, it is my history and I should know where I've come from and all, but still.

There are just so many white people (and other poc too) that just will never know some things, l understand school censors and omits a lot of stuff, but still.

I agree with you. The fucked up shit white people have done (to all poc) should be taught, but sadly it isn't. I wish I would've learned about this in school, but we don't. Especially not here in Sweden.

We're a very white country, obviously. I grew up essentially just being told that "oh hey, Sweden is great and we stayed neutral in both world wars" - we didn't, many joined the nazis and we were the last nation, from what I know, to stop researching race biology. We committed atrocious things to the natives of the north, the Sami, in the name of science. Uppsala University still have books full of naked pictures of Sami people, including children, with measurements and all, stored in their archives from this time. Some people want them destroyed, others think we need to keep them as proof that it happened.

Most of this I had to learn on my own through reading and listening to historical podcasts.

Sweden also played a pivotal part in the slave trade. We had been given St Bartholomeo in the Caribbean by the French as payment for something (or a dowry, can't remember) and since there was no fresh water on the island (meaning we couldn't farm) we instead established a station for slave trade. This allowed the French, British and Spanish to sell between each other without a conflict of interest cause we were the middlemen.

Once again, not a peep of it in school, but I spent an entire semester learning about Norse mythology.

I was also never taught about the civil rights movement or MLK or Malcolm X.

I know this doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry for the trauma of having to shoulder these burdens and that you have the burden of educating us on it, but I'm so thankful for the people who are willing to. You and your people doesn't deserve anything that's been done to you.

And I'm sorry for my ignorance, I'm trying to learn more and more every day to change it.

#ask #ask kara #I'm not asking for y'all to praiae me or whatever #I'm literally doing what should be the bare minimum to help makes this world better

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esxmoli · 3 years

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Is that PRISCILLA QUINTANA on campus? Oh no, that’s ESMERALDA MOLINA. From AUSTIN, TEXAS, USA, the 22 year old has come to study PRE-MED. Rumor has it she is EMPATHETIC and DETERMINED, but SELF-CRITICAL and SPITEFUL, which is why she is known as THE UNDERDOG. She resides in THETA PHI KAPPA and can’t wait to graduate.

Name: Esmeralda Luisa Molina Nickname(s): Moli (main name she goes by recently), Es, Esme Birthday: 11th August 1999 (22) Pronouns: She/Her Nationality: American Ethnicity: Mexican, Native American, Spanish Study Field: Pre-med Occupation: Bartender at The Renegade Clubs: Track and Field Accommodations: Theta Phi Kappa

Trigger Warnings: War

Esmeralda’s dad has been a solider for many years and has always been the kind of man to have “a woman in every port”. He is a charming man that can command a room with just a look. Her mum was a waitress working near an army barrack after coming from Mexico and whenever her dad was in port, he’d spend time with her. However, the arrangement changed when her mum went to her dad’s main base in Texas to ruin his marriage with proof of his affair, a child newly born. Esmeralda. His wife left him on the spot.

Esme grew up on the army barracks with parents who constantly fought. Her dad hated her mum for ruining his marriage and her mum hated that she felt stuck looking after a child she never wanted. For Es, she grew up with a cold and distant mother who blamed her for ruining her life and a dad who expected his daughter to live to his high standards. In spite of this, she was always the most empathetic child who seemed to understand people. She understood suffering and knew her parents were always suffering.

In school, Esmeralda always excelled in science and specifically biology. The human anatomy was always interesting to her. She was a smart kid but her dad cared more about her physical education so despite her doing well in academics, she was taught to focus on exercise.

At the age of 14, her mum had had enough of this life and ended up leaving during the day when her dad was working. She claimed she was going to the shops and just never came back. Esmeralda pretty much dealt with raising herself from this point. Her dad had his standards but he wasn’t much of a care giver.

To try and meet her dad’s standards, when she graduated from school, she enrolled in to the army with her dad as a drill sergeant. Moli, as she became known as through her surname, faced a lot of comments because she was a “pretty girl” and “pretty girls shouldn’t be breaking nails in the army”. This only fuelled her spite to do better than all of them. She was the definition of “anything you can do, I can do better”.

After her basic training, she floated between departments and ended up training in medical. It wasn’t her dad’s first choice for her but it was what she preferred. She did do a six month tour of Afghanistan which she came back from about a year and a half ago. This tour was what prompted her to leave the army. Her dad was endlessly disappointed in her for leaving and called her “weak” for not being able to hack it. Once she left the barracks, he barely answered her calls and left her to fend for herself.

Moli took her medical knowledge and went in to a pre-med programme in Texas and after a year of studying has moved universities to Monarch about a month ago where she has been settling in for her second year of pre-med. In the end, Moli hopes to be an emergency room doctor. As much as she thrived in the chaos of war time emergency medical assistance, she simply hated being in the middle of a war zone but she wants to still be helpful in a crisis.

#monarchintro

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albarivas · 3 years

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ana de armas, cis female, she/her — whenever i see alba rivas meandering down agnes street la escalera by pablo alborán starts to play inside my head. maybe it is the vibe they give off. bullet journals, colorful dresses, hairstyles with bandanas ; you know ? artistic impressions is what keeps them interested in agnes. i heard they are a thirty-three year old teacher at bright future. they look like the kind of person who would make you do a vision board.

hi again, it’s ella again. okay so i had cameron (the lily james) but tbh she’s a new muse and right now i don’t have the brain to develop a muse from scratch but i still want to write and that’s why i decided to bring alba, one of my oldest muses. i’m so happy to give her a new home and i can’t wait for her to meet all of your characters.

basics

NAME: alba carolina rivas borges

NICKNAME: al, albie

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: boca raton, florida

DATE OF BIRTH: april 19, 1988

AGE: thirty-thirty

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: teacher at bright future

background

tw: illness, cheating

CHILDHOOD

her story starts between cuba and spain. her mother, carolina, fled from cuba and her father immigrated from spain with no friends or family and only with a few dollars. the two newcomers were matched by fate and just a year later they welcomed their daughter, alba.

two years later, a son completed the rivas family. they didn’t have much and often had to deal with homesickness and many times they considered moving to spain, but eventually they decided to stay.

it was a big change for both julián and carolina. he used to work as a lawyer back in spain and carolina had almost graduated from med school. now in the united states they both had to start from zero.

her mother traveled an hour from boca raton to palm spring every day where she worked cleaning those luxurious houses. her father got his credentials to become a spanish teacher and taught in the local high school.

alba always knew she didn’t have much. she grew up going with her mom to those huge houses and from a young age she understood what wealth could buy. however, alba never envied those who had a lot more than her. in fact, her childhood best friend was the girl that lived in the house her mother cleaned. the two were inseparable.

ADOLESCENCE AND COLLEGE YEARS

alba excelled as a student. education was something her parents always deemed as important and so she made it her goal to make them proud.

she earned a spot in a prestigious public high school. as a teenager, she was the model child. always listening to her parents, rarely giving them problems. she had an active social life, she went on a couple of dates and she was part of several groups.

these qualities eventually earned her a place at nyu. moving to new york was something she’d never considered. she liked florida, and her family were there but her parents convinced her that this would be a great opportunity and that she could comeback.

becoming a teacher was her ambition. she admired her father for doing it and she knew from a young age that she wanted to teach children.

to make ends meet, she got a job as a waitress and she really didn’t have a social life as she worked and studied full time. there was no time for friendship and even less time for dating.

it was during one day at work that she met someone that changed her life. she met another student while she was working who asked her out but she refused, however, he came back and did the same thing every night until one day she finally accepted.

one date turned into two and then three until soon people couldn’t see one without the other. most people thought they wouldn’t last, their personalities and values were too different. he came from a wealthy family, the typical spoiled kid that was set to inherit his parents’ fortune someday, the one that always featured on page six with a different woman every night. meanwhile, alba came from a working-class family, daughter of immigrants who always had to work to get what she had in life. despite the skepticism, they proved everyone wrong.

at twenty-two, alba graduated with a degree in early childhood education and began working as a teacher.

ADULTHOOD

her relationship with this guy (i dont have a name for him lmao) was better than ever and after dating for three years, he proposed and alba said yes as she was convinced she’d found her other half.

however, not everything was perfect. his family didn’t like her and things only got worse after they got engaged. the couple married only a year later. they left new york and moved to florida where they bought one of those houses alba always had dreamed to have and the best part is that they were neighbors with her childhood best friend.

but all good things must come to an end, and soon her fairytale turned into a nightmare. the relationship with her in-laws was awful which eventually caused tension in their marriage. they began to fight more often and he started to spend more time at his office than at home. however, she was determined to make their marriage work, a love like theirs couldn’t end like this, she wouldn’t allow it.

tw cheating: one day, alba returned to their home early and what she saw was heartbreaking. there he was, in bed with none other but her childhood best friend. heartbroken, alba refused to accept any of his excuses and immediately filed for divorce, to the joy of her in-laws. end of tw.

after her divorce, alba moved to california where she started a year course at stanford. she planned to stay there but that when she received news from home.

tw illness: her father was very sick, and her parents had decided to move to islebury, rhode island. without anything holding her back, she packed up her stuff and moved here as well so she could help her mother with her dad. end of tw.

she’s been living here for three years now and works as a teacher at bright future.

personality

She has the ability to see the good in almost anyone or anything and tends to sympathize with even the most unfriendly person. She often hides the extreme depth of feelings from her, even from herself, until circumstances elicit a passionate response.

She has a deep sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities and potentials and is governed by her intuition. She is quite reserved and is not easily manipulated.

She is a good listener and considerate, they try to care for and understand others in a deep way. She can be very calm and intuitive with the people around her, being able to search for hidden meanings in the actions and words of others.

Of course, all of life is not rosy and Alba is not exempt from suffering the same disappointments and frustrations that are common to others. She tends to be a perfectionist and often strives for personal ideals that can be exhausting or very difficult to obtain.

headcanons

she’s a bookworm. her favorite book is the persuasion by jane austen

she speaks fluent spanish

alba has a beautiful white persian cat named nube

she loves wearing bandanas in her hair

claims she’s allergic to strawberries, she’s not. she just hates them and that’s easier than explaining why

connections

Younger brother: I’m gonna make a wanted connection because I love this dynamic. He is two years younger than her and she adores him. She tries to stay in touch with him and in general, they are close.

Ex-best friend: they met as children and grew up together, they knew everything about the other. alba’s mother worked as a housekeeper and she used to go with her sometimes, that’s how they met. this person came from a different background, she lived in one of those expensive houses alba could only dream to own. their friendship was so strong that they even applied to the same university (although her friend was not accepted). alba considered this person as the sister she never had, but then she did the worst thing in the world, she slept with alba’s husband. they haven’t spoken since she found out.

Ex-husband: They divorced two years ago, after alba found out he had been cheating on her with her best friend. they met while she was a student at NYU and were together for three years before getting engaged and married. he comes from a wealthy family, the typical perfect american family. their relationship was never approved by his parents. she hasn’t spoken to him since the divorce.

Best Friendish: Okay, so this is a tricky one because her actual best friend turned into Judas and slept with her husband, but maybe this person is the closest she has to a best friend. she trusts this person and since her divorce, this is the only person that she has been able to speak without limitations.

Bad influence: Alba has never been one to go to many parties or even to drink, but this person is the only one that can convince her to have a good time.

Co-workers/Parents: She works as a teacher at bright future, maybe your character works there or their kids go/went there.

Neighbor: self-explanatory

Unlikely friendship: The two have different personalities, but somehow, both have managed to get along and form a weird friendship.

Hook ups: She’s not really the relationship kind bc she’s always busy but once in a while she hooks up with people ghdghdhgd (open to everyone)

Flirtationship: they act like friends, but cannot help to throw flirty looks or comments at each other.

Unrequited: It could go either way, I’m fine to plot it out. I’m an angst hoe sooo

Bad tinder date: after her divorce, her friends tried to set her up with someone but it didn’t go well. There was nothing wrong about her date, but she wasn’t ready and in the end it was a very uncomfortable situation for them.

One night stand: she was drunk, he/she was drunk too. They didn’t plan it but happened and now whenever they see each other in town it’s a bit awkward.

#agnesfm.intro

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derangedhyena-zoids · 3 years

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I guess now that I featured The Kids in something I can elaborate on them and everything related slightly without seeming completely insane. BIG HEADCANON BLATHER TIME: Raven and Ryss had 2 kids, both boys.

Ryss wasn’t a terribly good mother. She loved her kids but was a little panicked about them at all times, and didn’t really like the distraction they were. Specula was a good mother and did the majority of keeping them out of trouble.

They were also psychic as fuck, but that didn’t show up until they were hitting puberty. I’m sure that was an entire Time.

Ryss literally didn’t think she could get pregnant by Raven. She based this off of both what she’d been taught by Hiltz (humans=/=Zoidians) and the fact that Fiona had never been pregnant despite sleeping with Van for years*. So, once Ryss figured out she was pregnant**, telling Raven was a bit of an event because Raven was under the impression that such a thing wasn’t possible. He also had little interest in being a parent. Ryss also had no idea what pregnancy even entailed for a Zoidian, and neither did Fiona. Again, all she knew was what she’d learned from Hiltz, and it wasn’t as if he went out of his way to teach her the finer points of anything. (Knowledge is power after all, and he wanted wanted to hold as much power over her as possible. What she didn’t know to begin with, she couldn’t know was being withheld. All she knew from Hiltz on the topic was Zoidian pregnancies are of a greater duration than human pregnancies - mainly because he’d irritably snapped about how ‘the vermin’ reproduce faster.) Raven’s main reluctance about parenting had to do with... you know, his massive unresolved parental trauma. Which after some extreme stress he and Ryss managed to work through, largely because they had a lot in common in this department. Afterwards Raven warmed up to the idea of being a father, and was... well, Okay.jpg at it. Let’s just say he had Shadow helping Specula with the kids a lot. ...the kids were raised by Organoids. SO.

An attempt was made to keep track of Ryss and her offspring, especially after Raven’s death and she began to make herself scarce. But nobody expected the kids to be psychic af, and they quickly sussed out that something was up and followed their mom’s lead, making themselves and their families impossible to find. ....

The Guardian Force pretty quickly lost tabs on them, but did know what to “look for”, so to speak.

However, this attempt was never linked up with the information the Empire had on Ryss, mainly because too much time had passed and no one knew to bridge the info.

Anyways. All three Zoidians were aware there were differences between themselves and humans, Hiltz more than most. Hiltz was the only one of them that had an adult level of knowledge from Zoidian times. Fiona and Ryss were literal children and were only ever, at best, taught the very basics about things. Part and parcel of subscribing wholesale to the we’re-the-best group’s newsletter, Hiltz also a keen interest in biology/related, obviously interested in scholars of that group’s discussion on what amounted to Zoidian eugenics. ‘we’re the best, and here’s why.’ Hiltz didn’t even remotely consider that humans and Zoidians could hybridize, nor was he interested in finding out. (though he had well-established to Prozen and the Imperial scientists his “ownership” of Ryss and the fact she was not to be messed with, I’m sure he had to mindfuck and/or sic Ambient on a swath of folks to get them to stop bothering him about jizzing in a cup.)***

Joke’s on him because he fathered *at least* these three:

while living in the small colony with the scholar.

because he, Hiltz, the weird guy, was hot, amazing in bed, and quite DTF. scholar: ... Hiltz: (ツ) scholar: ... Hiltz: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ scholar: ...sure, whatever, what could it hurt anyways ^^^THESE FOLKS HAD A TIME. Unlike with Ryss’s kids, who at least had a slight understanding they were different and some guidance on the situation, any and all of Hiltz’s offspring HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON. And not that any of the fertility restrictions were enacted at this point in time (there’s wars, you live in the wild west, please have kids), but the addition of Zoidian into the mix fucks the inbuilt population-control-genetic-engineering-bullshit straight up, which resulted later in a lot of confusing surprises for people annnnnd is part of why miscarriages became common later down the line.

Nobody expected the spanish inquisition weird side-species fuckery. Nobody even knows to look! By NC0 times there’s just starting to be coherent, unified inquiry into the various vanilla-human mutations running around.

WHOOPS THO: Backdraft & Co have been at this shit for a while and already know a lot about this. Because they have a hard-on for the Empire and a lot of OG Backdraft are basically really rich, bitter offspring from Imperial families who think they’re better in just about every way. Including genetically. When Backdraft became predominantly a moneymaking, black-market, illegal-battling underground enterprise, a rift began and never stopped growing. Backdraft has a strong preference for recruiting folks of Guylos descent (hi, Bit), but in recent memory had stopped turning people away for not being so. Because money. It did kinda... go in peoples’ file though. In the game of historical telephone, Ryss (and Raven’s) bloodline were more or less demoted to the same: ‘from Guylos.’ Alteil was in range of figuring a few important things out. Unfortunately, HE DED. His successor with this information is Layon. Surely nothing can go wrong there. ANYWAYS. A massive and valid concern Ryss had was what would happen with hybrid offspring, since to her knowledge her kid would be the first. Hiltz’s were already adults, they were fine. They were better than fine, they just needed a lot more water and salt than everyone else. So, as we all know, Hiltz uh, actually succeeded in removing a sizable chunk of the human population on Zi. Once everyone had scraped semi-functional society back together, the powers that-were-to-be basically prioritized secure settlements and making everyone feel safe so... you know, they’d have kids. Important for the whole rebuilding society thing. The Zoidian offspring became slightly more statistically relevant during this time, because them and potentially even their kids had all been scared shitless and fled into the hills from the Death Stinger bullshit long before anyone else had. Once there they were good at Not Dying In General, because they had a variety of inexplicable abilities and were just WELL I’M A FREAK BUT I’M ALIVE SO, YOU KNOW, WE’RE COOL.

Greater than zero chance that someone started a cult. Very, very obviously: these folks knew to keep to themselves. Though the original offspring and their mother had NO idea what was going on, over time any kids at least had fair warning, and knew to keep oddity to themselves. When the most blatant expressions of things were bred out, only the subtle but strongly expressed items remained, discussion of familial strangeness subsided. Then you’re left with people like Brad who can basically see in the dark, but thinks everyone can see in the dark, it’s no big deal right? RELATED, BUT NOT: This is technically a spoiler, but not really, because I’m not sure this actually “plays into the plot” so much as it is just “a fact of the plot” annnnnd I sort of want/need to explain this a little because it’s related to all of this. In this hc, the Zoid Eve is a metaphorical hyper-simplification of ‘resources.’

Back in Zoidian times, some scholars - namely those aligned with the group(s) Hiltz was eventually born into - theorized that the Zoid Eve’s power was not an infinite resource as many believed, but actually an incredibly finite one. Not in the sense of it being used up, but the sense of “there are only ‘100′ of these, there will only ever be ‘100′ of these, we cannot add to or take away from this” (sidenote: I subscribe to the idea that the Zoid Eve was some kind of supernaturally-occurring power source that the Zoidians shaped into what everyone now calls the Zoid Eve. They did this so long ago that its origins became unclear; beliefs from various groups ran the gamut from “LITERALLY GOD” to “it was built by us”) The power of it gave life and longevity not only to all Zoids but them too. And it seemed that the more individuals there were, the smaller the “slice of the pie” they received. They began to project apocalyptic futures in which the “slices” were so small that death ran rampant, and Big War would be inevitable. Obviously, nobody wanted this. But unfortunately the group who theorized this also started a huge, lengthy campaign to reduce the population, which - after many years, a lot of societal sabotage and and many smaller conflicts between groups - eventually culminated in ongoing, wholesale slaughter, which led to the big Zoidian-apocalypse nonsense that we’re all familiar with. Cool story bro, right? Well, y’see, those ancient scholars weren’t wrong, though. To an extent that’s actually what led to the hyper-concentration of strength in the DSaurer/DScorpion battle, and why Zero and One are functionally god-tier Organoids. But what this means in modern times, is that the remaining Zoidians - and to a proportionately-relevant extent, the hybrid offspring - are the only remaining folks (besides the Organoids and Zoids) benefiting from the pie anymore. Ryss is the last Zoidian; she’s basically non-aging at this point.

First-gen hybrids? Aging at a complete snail’s pace. Second gen? Still having a very strange time. So on and so forth... Can they die? Absolutely, but it’s pretty hard to kill them. Basically only complete destruction of vital parts works. Does this also apply to Organoids and Zoids? Absolutely. “then why’s Fiona dead” Because the double-bond with Zeke seriously fucked her up. Van dragged her down, hard. “but-” Zeke could’ve pulled away from her at any time and she would’ve lived. Been a nutcase probably, but lived. She suspected it, Zeke was outright in denial; she never called him on it because she cared about him too much and didn’t want him blaming himself for whatever happened. This is what Ryss suspected/understood as well, and likewise didn’t want to break Zeke. “wait, what about zeke?” HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM IN CLOSING: I don’t have names for any of the offspring discussed here, but I have thought about the appearances/other stuff. Obviously. I’ve never specified how many original offspring(s) were running around. But it couldn’t have been too many. So anyone in NC0 times related to either Ryss or Hiltz can trace back to ^^^the folks pictured above, most likely. I actually have no idea how to properly calculate the amount of population vs how much impact a handful of reproducing individuals would have over x generations. So please excuse vagueness there, as I’m both open to adjusting that number when/if it becomes feasible to do so, and also don’t think it’s terribly necessary to have this information nailed down because let’s be real nobody cares and that’s a lot of work. Also as I’ve mentioned before, there’s several serious confounding factors here: -these people can LIVE A LONG TIME. The original hybrids and their kids ARE POTENTIALLY STILL ALIVE. They mature relatively rapidly, but then coast into a very slow aging process. That means that - especially the males - could still technically be producing offspring. -that makes my head hurt and makes figuring out lineages stupid nightmare mode. so don’t expect me to actually do that because I’m not sure how to. The main Facts(tm) you need are: Sara is 4th gen. Vega is 5th gen x2. Brad is 5th gen. Stoller is 7th gen.

that’s the important part, okay. (*’s from earlier: ) *tl;dr the bizarre situation they’d inadvertently created with Zeke wreaked havoc on Fiona’s ability to reproduce. Conversely, Raven and Ryss *almost* had a ‘proper’ setup, so Ryss was fine. Nobody knew this. **Ryss figured this out with Fiona’s help - and who did they both go to, to ask in confidence?

Yep. ”isn’t he-” YEP. ***The Empire knows next to nothing about Hiltz. The Republic, however has AN OBSCENE AMOUNT of information about him. Difficulty level? The data was both classified, and never really tied back to him. Because Hiltz murdered the scholar and burned down his house/lab, the connecting information was all lost. The scholar had moved the material to his house in secret, due to fears of an Imperial spy in their research facility - he was telling Hiltz the truth. The most that the Empire ever learned at that time was that the Republic had “captured” a Zoidian (Hiltz), and that was about it. This drove the fervor which led to them grabbing at the Republic’s continued excavations - eg what happened with Shadow, and presumably them attacking (and IMO, overpowering) the Republic group that’d also seized Ryss. Before Hiltz became involved, Imperial scientists gleaned a lot about Ryss, but as I’ve mentioned before, she wasn’t treated anywhere nearly as poorly as Hiltz had been. She also had Specula, which helped a lot. So, the Empire knew nothing of Hiltz, but a lot about Ryss. Thanks to Alteil and his predecessor’s longstanding obsession with the Imperial military, Backdraft has almost all of the Imperial military’s data from the past few centuries. Ergo...

#headcanon #long post #spoilers kinda?#in this house everything is a MESS

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prosopopeya · 3 years

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New Year’s Meme

this survey has been a tradition among my friend group for YEARS, but i haven’t filled it out since 2015 apparently. i’m not entirely sure why except 2016 was the year a lot of stuff changed for me, namely in that i finally got out of school in some form and started a new job, but i also had a few health problems that kept plaguing me (thyroid medicine being off, vitamin d) and my anxiety was all over the place. so here we go i’m doing it again and feel free to do it too if you want!!

1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? tried on wedding dresses. taught virtually. dealt (poorly) with drunk teenagers. performed in a pep rally. wore face masks all the time. i’m going to lump in living with someone. jon moved in october 2019, but i don’t think i did this quiz last year so. taught ap.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year? i don’t really like resolutions. they put too much pressure on me and i am a fragile person when it comes to setting expectations and living up to them. i did want to try to read more this year, and i maintained that until the pandemic, and then just kind of gave up requiring myself to do anything but live.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? i don’t think so. a coworker did.

4. Did anyone close to you die? jon’s cousin committed suicide in march or april. the circumstances were pretty upsetting. um. andy died in february, very suddenly. andy was my high school boyfriend for four years with whom i had a very... he scarred me in a lot of ways when it comes to sex and consent. it’s taken me a long time to unpack all of that. and i struggle with how much any of that was his fault or just bc he was a stupid kid too. our mutual friends had nothing but nice things to say about him on fb. anyway. he would guilt me into saying he’d kill himself if we broke up, and jon’s cousin killed himself over his girlfriend. so that was a complex part of the year.

5. What countries did you visit? none. literally the week before the quarantine, we went to asheville to visit jon’s cousin.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? maybe a different job? or at least some peace at doing mine.

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? march 13 we cancelled classes and had a technology training day; the 15th we had another one, and then we were virtual the rest of the term. it was such a sudden shift and while i so loved working from home tbh, it was such a relief after a supremely shitty january/february work-wise, i still had a lot of keyed-up, stressful days centered around transitioning to being the senior upper school spanish teacher. i hate it!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? writing 50k in the month of november. i have literally never done that before and actively reject nano as being typically unhealthy for how my mind works, so it was nice to do it entirely by accident.

9. What was your biggest failure? mishandling the drunken teenagers on that field trip in january.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? i sit crosslegged in my virtual teaching chair and i did it so much that my ankle hurt for the entire summer.

11. What was the best thing you bought? we put a deposit on our elopement in ireland. jon’s wedding ring. (i didn’t buy my wedding dress.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? my best friend at work who keeps me sane and is represented by benny in my au, which other than the fact that he is not my sidepiece, is perfect he is crucial to my survival at work and i love him so much. (also he is gay and the french teacher so the benny parallels just keep coming). everyone who tore down a statue in virginia (and other places, but especially monument avenue). everyone putting their lives on the line during this pandemic.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? guess! but aside from all the obvious, i found out a friend of mine at work voted for trump. my work bff and i had been trying for years to sway his politics, but that had us both deciding to give up on him.

14. Where did most of your money go? food, ALCOHOL. god., our savings account. i did a pretty excellent job saving this year, though a good deal of that is because jon moved in and makes more money than me, and also we split all the bills.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? my wedding dress but strangely only when i went to try it on after it came in bc after the purchase i was so sure i’d made every mistake possible. my wedding band. wellbutrin changing my whole life. and, last but certainly not least, the gay angel and the bi(lingual) hunter. i wouldn’t have survived nov-dec in school without that distraction. the election.

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020? the entirety of taylor swift’s oeuvre this year, maybe specifically “this is me trying”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. Happier or sadder? happier, i suppose, perhaps contrary to what should be the case, but wellbutrin is a hell of a drug. ii. Older or wiser? wiser. ii. Richer or poorer? richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? reading. cleaning. exercising.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? stressing. chaperoning.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? so, an update; last year was the first year i didn’t go to my mom’s for christmas. i was supposed to see her for thanksgiving last year, but she basically told us not to come bc she wasn’t feeling up to it (cool!), and we went to jon’s for christmas and my mom’s for new year’s.

this year, obviously we couldn’t go to my mom’s. instead, we rented a little cabin by the lake. it was perfect; it was really really nice inside, the beds were SO SOFT, the pillows were the best things i have ever laid my head on, like i took off the pillowcases to try to find the brand. we had a little tiny christmas tree with tiny ornaments from walmart that we decorated. the 23rd, we went and picked up our wedding bands. we slept two nights in the (cold) back bedroom so i could wake up and look out at the lake. it snowed for christmas. :)

we opened presents on christmas eve, per jon’s family’s tradition. on christmas eve, we also went to his family farm and sat outside and hung out a little. every year his family does like a secret santa sort of thing and i got my first present in that exchange, which is notable bc jon and i are not yet officially married. i got a remote control car -- jon’s idea bc i couldn’t think of anything, and he was so delighted to hear that i loved playing with rc cars when we went to the beach as a kid.

christmas morning we facetimed my parents and opened some presents together. then jon and i marathoned mandalorian (after spending the previous few days watching several die hard movies), and then we watched wonder woman 1984 which was a bad movie.

21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? ok LAST year for new year’s, we were in a hotel room, so that was nice, bc it meant minimal stress with my parents. i had always wanted to go to this restaurant near us that has a special new year’s menu, so we did that. the night before or after i think we went to cheesecake factory, which was also amazing.

this year currently i’m tumbling and he’s playing pokemon, and in a bit we’ll try to time it so we finish schitt’s creek in time for the new year.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? i re-fell in love with supernatural so that was nice.

23. How many one-night stands? 0. i submit we should randomly change question 23 each year to something more relevant to any of our life experiences.

24. What was your favorite TV program? what did i even watch this year. schitt’s creek. mandalorian. i mean obviously we know supernatural. the circle. are you the one (the queer season). pose. unsolved mysteries. we’re here! perry mason. watchmen. oh maybe that mcdonald’s monopoly fraud documentary. avenue 5. i’ll be gone in the dark. of those i think my favorite maybe is... pose or we’re here.

OKAY UM. on my 2014 version of this there were a bunch of questions about tv shows that i’m putting back in if only for the memories:

25. Which TV shows did you start watching in 2020? the haunting of bly manor, which we still need to finish. derry girls.

26. Which TV shows did you let go of in 2020? HERE’S WHY I WANTED TO RESURRECT THESE. here was my answer in 2015: “supernatural. goodbye, my sweet prince.” CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE

27. Which TV shows did you mean to get into but didn’t in 2020? Why? so far, queen’s gambit and that one on hulu with catherine the great. EVENTUALLY. 28. Which TV shows do you intend on checking out in 2020? fleabag. queen’s gambit. 29. Which TV show do you think you might let go of in 2020 unless things significantly improve? idk i drop things pretty regularly if they don’t entertain me 30. Which TV show impressed you least in 2020? GUYS HERE’S MY ORIGINAL 2015 ANSWER: “supernatural. :(”

anyway back to the rest of the quiz:

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? every person who refuses to listen to facts and information.

26. What was the best book you read? killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the fbi, or the his dark materials series.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? well i knew about tswift so i’m not going to count her albums. i will count this song that jon played for me once in the car that got stuck in my head for two weeks straight and led me down into a great related-songs spotify playlist: through the roof ‘n underground.

28. What did you want and get? a wedding dress and a very specific kind of wedding band. a gay angel. a christmas getaway. animal crossing.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? idk i don’t know how many films i saw this year. maybe mucho mucho amor: the legend of walter mercado

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? i was 32. we went to an escape room with a BUNCH of people -- work bff, my old work bff and his wife (old bc he quit and we’ve fallen out of touch :(), the cool new physics teacher and his fiancee, and the aforementioned trump voter and his wife, before we knew... we went out for brunch/lunch after. it was pretty great!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? not having to chaperone that school trip in january. dean being bi in english as well as spanish. cas just ilke, appearing in 15x20. not having to physically go back to work this fall.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? no! real! pants!

34. What kept you sane? jon. supernatural (in a way?). animal crossing for a while. wellbutrin! i haven’t really been able to detail this yet, but finally i did something about tumblr and my therapist making me think about adhd. my doctor gave me wellbutrin (bc i lack any official diagnosis and was on anxiety meds anyway, and he was like let’s try this!) and it’s fucking. it’s a fucking godsend. surprisingly enough, my students. trying to provide them a safe space has been a calming thing for me.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? jensen ackles’ silence. misha collins again, i guess.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? the summer was so fucking intense. i guess though it was me trying to exert my influence in a responsible way with my students without trying to try to make them feel uncomfortable but then one kid was a vocally upset trump supporter after the election and i had to try to defuse that situation.

37. Who did you miss? my old work bff. several old friends that i’ve fallen out of touch with bc i have no object permanence.

38. Who was the best new person you met? people i met through the spn resurgence!

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: if you manifest it in an au, it will come. no really though. maybe that expectations are only as important as i make them out to be.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: usually i have a hard time coming up with anything for this and i default to looking at my most played songs of the year. my most played song of the year received each and every one of its plays within the month of november and you can guess why. anyway see if this works

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met - the night we met, lord huron

#happy new year #annual meme

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Everyone Deserves Love chapter 7 part 1

A/N: So, this chapter got a little bit away from me. And instead of posting all 14k words in one part, I’m splitting it into two parts (I’ll post part 2 tomorrow, though, instead of making you wait a week!) This first part is a lot of tension and even more angst! Their first real fight! And a cliffhanger? Wowza! I also got to make up a lot of Barba’s background in this chapter, so bear with me. Little bit of Spanish that’s also translated right then. According to my friend, Adrian, there’s no “direct translation for motherfucker into Spanish which is why it’s that long.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: mentions of cheating, minor character death, screaming/yelling

Words: 7k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

Office of Rafael Barba

1 Hogan Place

Thursday, April 30th. 10:05am

Ever since the night they read about Marco Sorrel, Devon had pushed to train Barba harder in his self-defense training, especially with weapons. For the past three weeks, she taught him to disarm an assailant armed with first a knife—still sheathed—and then her gun, safety on. Barba hadn’t seemed too thrilled about the idea but agreed that it was necessary. And while Devon had to admit that he was pretty good in the training, that meant nothing when it came to the real thing. She had met many an agent who had excelled in training, and then froze in the field, leading to injuries or worse. Plus, the fact that it had been three weeks with no signs of any Aces made Devon uneasy. Very uneasy. She was sleeping less and less, hardly eating, and jumping at every sound. Barba, being his normal, collected self, didn’t seem disturbed by the news; he simply went about his day, doing arraignments, trials, meetings, and whatever the hell else he had to do. Which was a good thing, Devon supposed; it would make her job harder if they were both anxious.

Today was one of those days that was going to drag on forever, Devon knew. They had gotten to the courthouse early, skipping Barba’s office entirely, doing arraignments until almost noon. They then made it to his office for an early lunch, knowing that Barba would be in court for the rest of the day. Not that Devon was complaining; being stuck in the courtroom wasn’t all that bad, even though Barba had mentioned how boring it must be to sit in the gallery all day. But in all honesty, it was a nice break for Devon. She was still aware of people coming in and out, of course, but for the most part, once a trial started, everyone settled in. She didn’t have to worry too much about an attack once in court. And only once had a defendant gotten out of hand. But once he started shouting, the bailiff was on him, dragging him out, before Devon had fully blocked off his path to Barba. She knew he wasn’t in the Aces, but she was still going to protect the man.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It is pretty personal,” Barba commented, bringing Devon’s mind back to the present. They were just finishing lunch in his office, relaxing before the rush to court. She suddenly realized that he had asked her a question.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about stuff. What’d you ask?”

Barba sighed. “We were talking about, uh, past relationships. I asked how your last relationship ended.” Devon remembered now; they were talking about some cases that they both did with SVU, just a walk down memory lane over food. Barba had brought up the Muñoz case, which led to him talking about Yelina. Devon could tell by how his face softened when he spoke of her that she held a special place in his heart. After asking he agreed that yes, while he had flings and relationships since, Yelina was his first true love. After she left him for his best friend, he had found a couple other partners, but none that had gotten as close to him as her. “You always remember your first,” he had said.

Devon smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Does she lie to him? Tell him that she’s had a couple relationships and leave it at that? “I’ve, um…I’ve never really been in a relationship, per se.”

Barba put down his takeout container at that, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? I thought guys would be all over you.”

She laughed his comment away, flattered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’ve been, uh, intimate with people before,”—her face flushed. Why was she telling him this?—“but I’m just not the, uh, relationship type, I guess.” Why were they talking about this again? Though, she knew if she wanted to stop, she’d only have to say so. But she was curious about Barba; he was a very private man. She was interested—and a wee bit excited—that he even wanted to open up about this side of him. If that meant that she had to do the same, then so be it.

After a few moments of silence, Barba thinking through his words, he finally asked, “but haven’t you ever wanted to come home to someone?” It was an innocent enough question, but it filled Devon with such a strong sense of yearning. Of course, she did. Who didn’t want someone who would understand them, who would love them unconditionally?

“I mean, it would be nice, yes,” she kept her voice even, neutral. “But I don’t have the time, not with my job. Plus, how would someone react to something like this?” she gestured broadly. “I was out of the state for three years, then home for a week before moving in with a complete stranger, a man…no offense—”

“None taken—”

“--so, how would dating even work when I’m not even home or when I’m sleeping at someone else’s house?” Devon finished, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. She didn’t mean to get so emotional, so personal with the answer. But she was trying to make him understand.

He thought for a while, stabbing at his chicken. “I guess it would be tough with a job like that.” He took a piece out, chewed thoughtfully. “My last relationship ended because I was never home. I put my work first, so she found her home in someone else’s bed.”

Devon sat there, dumbfounded. Someone cheated on him? “What a bitch,” she mumbled. He stifled a chuckle and Devon realized she said that out loud. “Whoops,” she said, hand flying to her mouth. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was years ago; I’ve moved on,” he replied. Then, “The hardest part was returning the engagement ring.”

Devon’s heart hurt for the man. She couldn’t imagine being so in love, planning on being married to someone, and then to find out they were cheating. She couldn’t think of anything to say; she didn’t think saying sorry would help, but she didn’t want to ask any more probing questions.

“Do you ever plan on getting married?” Barba asked, staring at the desk.

The question caught Devon off-guard; she never really thought about it before. Maybe when she was a kid, as a last-ditch effort to escape her parents. But not anytime recently. “I’m not sure, really. I’ve never considered it…maybe if I met the right person, though I think I’d like to retire before hand. And I could not imagine having a wedding—too expensive. And rings are so old-fashioned and over-rated; have you seen the new movement of people proposing with beautiful, intricate knives?” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t stop herself. Barba, to his credit, looked up from the desk, smiling and laughing at Devon’s increasingly ridiculous marriage proposals, awkwardness and past pain soon forgotten.

“Mr. Barba?” Carmen said, sticking her head into his office, causing them both to stop their frivolous talk. “Mr. Thompson and Mr. Buchanan are here to see you.”

“There goes the fun,” Barba mumbled. Devon grinned, but moved to stand behind him, bodyguard-style, her normal place by his side.

Courthouse

Thursday, April 30th. 7:08pm

Court had lasted much longer than either of them had thought; the Judge was intent on finishing the trial today, letting tomorrow morning be for closing arguments and then letting the jury deliberate.

“I need to head back to my office; I forgot a file,” Barba had said as he gathered his things. Odd, Barba never forgot anything; man’s head was a steel trap.

“No problem. I got nowhere to be tonight. You know that we’re still training, though, right? Staying here late doesn’t get you out of it.”

Barba sighed. As much as he knew training was important, his body was still sore from where she hit him, blocking an attack, the night before. “Yeah, I know.”

“Don’t worry; this will all be over soon enough,” Devon commented. It was true; during the trial, Devon’s phone had gone off with an update text from Olivia. 47 Aces were now sitting in jail. 18 reported left, though 5 of those 18 were reportedly no longer in New York. Once they learned that most of the police force were after them, they had picked up and left. So, in reality, unlucky 13 were left active in New York…including Marco Sorrel, who no one seemed able to pinpoint. If Devon was free to move throughout the city, she knew she could track him down. But she had to trust in the NYPD’s abilities.

Barba was elated at the news—not having to worry about being shot was a weight off his shoulders—but at the same time, he felt upset at the thought of Devon moving out, moving on with her life. He had grown accustomed to her being there; her laugh, her banter, her presence. He didn’t know if they would remain in contact after this was over. He realized that he didn’t want to lose her. And after their talk this morning, he felt…no, he didn’t want to admit it, not to himself, or to anyone else.

They made it to the courthouse elevator, no one else in sight, and started going down to the ground floor. Barba made up his mind; he had to ask, to know if there was any chance of them having…something after the Aces were in jail. “You know, about that…I mean, after this is all over….” Barba started. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped off, Devon first and Barba right on her heels. The words died in his throat as he felt someone grab him roughly from behind, the cold steel of a gun pushing against his head.

Devon had heard his case fall from his hands, turned and had her gun up, aiming right over Barba’s shoulder before her brain had a chance to catch up. How’d I miss him? she thought, chiding herself. Then, her mind went blank, instincts and training kicking in, no room for any other thoughts. The elevator doors closed behind them, effectively pinning Barba and the man against the wall, facing Devon. Devon locked eyes with the man, ignoring Barba’s frightened look, and for a moment she was in a brownstone, looking at Nathan Woods. But she blinked again, and it was a Hispanic man, gun to Barba’s head, tattoo on his neck.

“Drop your gun, or I splatter this bastard’s brains all over the hallway,” Marco Sorrel said. She could feel Barba’s eyes on her, but she stayed focused on Marco, watching his trigger finger, pushing down the panic that was making her heart race.

“Counteroffer; you drop your gun or you’re dead before you pull the trigger,” Devon replied. She held her gun steady despite her rapid pulse, and started shifting her position slowly to the side, taking such small steps, she hoped Marco didn’t notice. This could end one of two ways, and she was deciding how best to approach it.

“Look, la loca es la primera (crazy bitch), I’m not afraid to die. But I’m taking this el cara e verga es el segundo (motherfucker) with me,” he dropped his voice, talking into Barba’s ear, barely loud enough for Devon to hear, “I hope you’ve made peace with whatever God you believe in.”

Devon felt the floor drop out from under her; she made up her mind in that moment. She took another step to the left, gaining a clear shot. She took it, squeezing the trigger. It was like watching a scene in slow motion. One moment, Marco had a gun to Barba’s head. Barba looked terrified, frozen in place. Then, a hole appeared between Marco’s eyes; his head snapped back and red splattered the elevator doors. His body hit the doors, and he slid down until he was slumped against them, gun clattering to the floor. Barba had ducked from the loud gunshot; he stood slowly, shakily, and turned to look at him while Devon slowly lowered her gun. She holstered it, putting the safety on—she knew she’d be turning it over tonight.

People started showing up then; Devon wasn’t sure where they were coming from. But they must have heard the gunshot, the hallways and curved ceiling making a perfect echo chamber. She stepped up to Barba, who was still looking at Marco’s dead body. She reached a hand out to him, saw her hand shaking slightly, clenched it into a fist and dropped it.

“Hey, are you alright? Are you hurt?” she asked, voice surprisingly steady for how shaky she was feeling.

Barba couldn’t take his eyes off the dead man, his face a little green. “You—you killed him. You just murdered a man.” He had whispered it, so matter-of-factly, voice dead.

The tone he had—or lack thereof--hit Devon like a physical blow. She reached out, hand not shaking this time, and took his hand, leading him a little down the hallway, putting the body behind him so that he was forced to look at Devon. That was almost worse; he looked rattled, shaking slightly, his green eyes wide. He yanked his hand out of her grip as if she had stung him.

“Uh, yes, I did…. You heard him; he was going to kill you in the next moment. I saw my shot and I took it; it was a good shoot,” she explained.

Barba had seen dead bodies in the morgue and in autopsy pictures before, but he had never seen someone killed, been close enough to feel the man’s weight fall off him. To fear, even for one moment, that he was the one who was shot. It felt like his brain was moving through sludge; he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It all had happened so fast; it was amazing how quick, how easy it was to kill someone.

“Police are taught to de-escalate a situation. You’re a damn negotiator, for fuck’s sake! You didn’t have to kill him.” Barba didn’t know where this anger came from, but it was a familiar emotion. He knew anger, so he wrapped himself in it like armor, let it protect his frazzled mind.

The rational side of Devon’s mind knew that this was simply a reaction to shock; when she was in the same situation 4 years ago, her reaction was to shut down. But anger, she knew, was also a very normal reaction to shock. Sadly, another reaction to someone yelling is to go on the defensive. And with all of her senses heightened, adrenaline coursing through her, that’s exactly what Devon did, replying, “yeah, I am a negotiator! And I know when a negotiation doesn’t work; I’ve seen enough hostages killed to know what it looks like. I was not going to let that happen to you.”

“He didn’t have to die, though! You know how to disarm perps!” he shot right back.

Devon shook her head, ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “I had no options, Barba. I hesitate, and you die! I shoot the hand with the gun, and there’s a damn good chance I hit you. Like I said, I saw my shot and I took it. Do I wish I didn’t have to kill him? Of course! But I will not apologize for doing my job.”

“That’s not good enough!” Barba yelled.

“Then what is, huh? What would you, a fucking ADA with apparently expert knowledge on hostage situations, have me do?” Devon answered, blood boiling.

Barba had no answer, so he let out an annoyed huff, and pushed past her. He made his way to one of the benches left outside a courtroom, intended for those waiting to go in, and sat down hard. He leaned his face into his hands, elbows on his knees. Devon took deep breaths through her nostrils, knowing that she needed to take a step back, to control this anger that seemed to stem from nowhere. And she needed to try and calm him down, too, whether he liked it or not. But first, she had to make a phone call.

The crowd that had gathered was staying well away from the body, and even further away from the two of them after their shouting match. She was sure that the police had already been called, but Devon still took out her phone and dialed Olivia’s cell, asking her to alert CSU and IAB. While it was true that the FBI had their own Internal Affairs, and Devon would have to talk to them, too, she was technically working for SVU at the moment, so IAB and 1PP would be involved. It was always tricky with them; they loved to remind her that she wasn’t an NYPD officer, but they also loved to throw her under the bus when they thought she fucked up. She had a grim curiosity about what policies they would take with her this time. Once she hung up with Liv, she figured she’d inform Barba.

Without moving closer, Devon spoke to the wall in front of her. “IAB is going to want to talk to you, too. You’re an eyewitness.” Barba sat in silence, no indication that he even heard her. Devon took another deep breath; she was going to have this conversation with him at some point, might as well be now while he wasn’t yelling.

“If you want someone else to protect you, I have no objections. I understand if you don’t trust me now,” she said softly. The words ripped a hole in her heart to say, but it was his right to have a choice, something he didn’t have when Liv shoved Devon onto him. Plus, she couldn’t get the image of his face after Marco was dead out of her mind: the fear, the anger, the betrayal. Like she was the worst person in the world.

Barba had a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind; they swirled, and he couldn’t seem to clear it. He knew he had to answer her tonight, so he finally said, more to the floor than to her, “I just want to go home for the night; get a good night’s rest. I…I need time to process all of this.”

Well, that was normal after having such a near-death experience, and he wasn’t giving her the boot quite yet. Though, she was waiting for the other shoe to drop; by tomorrow, he’d be done with her. Recognizing that the conversation was over, she thought about their sleeping arrangements. IAB wouldn’t allow her to stay with him tonight; it was against protocol. They could concoct a story about all of this, lie for each other. Her adrenaline was already wearing off, leaving her exhausted. But they had to wait for Olivia to get there, to deal with this situation.

Thankfully, they only had to wait another five minutes, though it felt like an eternity in silence. Olivia was somehow the first on the scene, the rest of SVU on her heels. The detectives started clearing the courthouse of spectators, while Liv came over to the agent and counselor. Devon took off her gun and knife, handing them over.

She took them but turned to Barba first. “There will be an unmarked car watching your place tonight. I think you should get a good night’s sleep before talking to officers tomorrow morning. I’ll give you a ride home tonight, and then come by tomorrow for your statement.” He gave her a stiff nod, then Olivia turned to Devon, sighing heavily. “IAB has instructed me to escort you to the hospital for a blood-alcohol test,”

“That’s normal—” Devon started, before Olivia cut her off.

“And then to place you under arrest until they investigate this further.” Ah, there it is, Devon thought.

She smiled grimly. “And when will that be?” Devon asked. Officers had up to 48 hours to report to IAB after an incident like this, and Devon was sure that they’d make her wait the whole time, incarcerated...if they counted her as an officer. They could potentially make her wait indefinitely. As shitty as that was, all she could think about was who would watch Barba tomorrow at work.

Liv shook her head. “I don’t know; they didn’t specify. Detective Rollins will escort you to the hospital, and then to the cage at SVU.” Better than Rikers, Devon thought ruefully. She glanced at Barba, trying to make sure he was alright, but he was still staring at the floor.

Olivia gave her a look full of concern, before nodding to Rollins. Devon placed her hands behind her back and Rollins cuffed her, looking upset that she was the one chosen to do so. She read her her rights as they left the courthouse. Barba finally looked up as she led her away, a tightness in his chest. Arrested for murder…arrested for saving his life.

Liv sat on the bench next to him. “Are you alright, Rafa?”

He pulled his eyes from Devon’s retreating form, looking at Olivia, her expression full of worry. “She saved my life yet again, but by killing someone. I’m...I’m not sure how to feel about it.” He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it could come to this, that she may have to shoot someone to protect him. But his life had almost always been painted in black and white; murder is bad, illegal. Sure, there were exceptions, but they were few and far in between. And even then, he always viewed justifiable homicide as a last resort. Was killing Marco a last resort?

Liv mulled over her thoughts for a while before replying, “I’ve known Devon for years; she wouldn’t shoot someone for no reason.”

Barba suddenly realized that she had no idea what happened here; Devon wasn’t allowed to tell her without having counsel with her, and Barba didn’t count since he was a witness. So, Barba gave her the broad strokes of what had happened, including Marco’s threat that had pushed Devon over the edge and their conversation afterwards. Liv almost stopped him—he shouldn’t be telling her or anyone besides IAB about this—but he wasn’t a trained officer, and he needed to tell someone about this. Might as well be her.

So, Liv listened in silence, nodding along with his tale. She sighed when he finished, saying, “look, Rafa, you know that I’m against murder as much as you are. But this sounds like a good shoot. She shot him not in self-defense, but in defense of you, which may be a stronger pull, especially for someone like Devon. Trust me, though, she’s not nearly as accepting of this outcome as she may seem.”

Barba took that into consideration; maybe killing a man was eating her up inside. He knew that she had shot people before, but he didn’t know if she had killed someone before. And all he had done was yell at her, blaming her for saving his life yet again. He felt ashamed that he couldn’t control himself, his emotions; he knew Devon at this point. She wasn’t some serial killer. She was his friend, and she was risking her life every day making sure he was safe. And now she was in jail.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Liv said, breaking through his thoughts. He picked up his briefcase on the way out, unable to stomach even glancing at the blood on the ground. They rode in silence, enraptured in their own thoughts; Olivia worrying over how IAB would handle this case—she knew that IAB wasn’t particularly fond of SVU’s relationship with the Federal agent—and Barba going over the whole scene in his mind over and over again, from the moment those elevator doors closed to Devon’s back as she was led out in cuffs. After saying their goodbyes, Barba headed into his building. He noticed the unmarked car parked in front, but it didn’t feel like a comfort, not like Devon’s presence felt. He opened the door and locked it behind him, arming the doorstop like she had shown him. His loft seemed so empty, so quiet. Grabbing the thickest book he could find, he checked every room for intruders; a mockery of how professional Devon usually conducted the search. Barba felt foolish doing it himself, book in hand, but he knew it must be done if he wanted any peace tonight; his blood was still rushing in his ears. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he slowly stripped off his jacket and looked at the time. 11:36pm. He knew there was no chance of sleep tonight, but he’d have to try. To hopefully help him sleep, he dug out his favorite bottle of scotch, pouring himself a glass. He had to sort out his mind if he was ever going to sleep, though the alcohol may help calm his nerves, too. Plus, he needed to figure out how tomorrow was going to play out. He’d never talked to IAB before, nor been an eyewitness to a crime…at least, not like this. For court, he had his bullet-proof question tree, his responses to whatever the opposition said written down and memorized. Now, though, he was the one on trial, and he had no idea what to say.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Friday, May 1st. 7:00am

Barba showered in the morning, after tossing and turning all night. He didn’t go to bed until after 1am, but even with how exhausted he was, not to mention slightly drunk, he could not sleep. He kept thinking about the look of conviction in Devon’s eyes as she pulled the trigger, Marco’s dead body, blood splattered everywhere, his anger and fear as he took out all that energy, all that adrenaline, on Devon. Every time he thought about that conversation, a fresh wave of shame washed over him. He knew that victims sometimes lashed out after something traumatic happened, but he wasn’t a victim…right? He never thought of himself as one; he was simply a marked man. But even he knew that was a bunch of crap.

He got a text sometime while in the shower from McCoy, telling him to take the day, and the weekend, off. First of all, he knew that IAB would want to interview Barba about the dead body found by the elevators last night. And second, he knew that Barba probably needed the time off to collect his thoughts after having such a close brush with death. True, McCoy knew the ADA well, knew that he could handle himself and could feasibly work if asked, but the DA knew it would be better to let Barba relax for a couple days.

Don’t worry, I got a continuous on all your cases. McCoy texted him.

Sighing, he got dressed in a suit, though not one of his expensive court suits—this was more of a “weekend” suit, as he liked to call them. Though, Devon loved to tease him that they didn’t look different. He tried to explain it once, about the different material, the different cuts in shape, but she only laughed harder. He came out of his room, mumbling a quiet, “morning,” then looked to the couch when there was no answer, finding it empty. Oh…right, he thought, missing her singsong, perky voice in the morning. Then he realized that that meant there was no coffee made yet.

As he moved in the kitchen. his phone went off, causing him to jump and almost dropped his mug; it was a message from Liv letting him know that IAB had pushed back the meeting and that she would update him with a time when she knew. She would be there in a bit for his statement, and the unmarked car would stay posted until further notice. At least that gave him some time to finalize what he wanted to say to Devon when…if he saw her. He had solidified his testimony that he would say to IAB. With nothing else to do, he sat in his armchair nervously, fiddling with a pen in his hands.

SVU Department

Friday, May 1st. 7:00am

Devon stared at the ceiling of SVU’s holding cell. Thankfully, she was its only occupant all night. Rollins had given her a pillow and a blanket and told her to try and get some sleep, but they both knew that that wasn’t happening. Instead, Devon counted the bars on the walls, did her normal workouts that she performed in Barba’s loft every morning, and thought about anything that wasn’t Barba’s face, full of fear—fear of Marco, or her?—from the night before. But as the time trickled by and night gave way to dawn, Devon was forced to confront last night’s events. She meant what she had said; she wasn’t sorry that she had killed Marco. If she had done nothing, if she had hesitated for even a second longer, there’d be two bodies in the morgue. She was pretty sure the Barba understood that, but she did not expect him to flip out like he did. Shock makes people lash out, she told herself. Though she wasn’t thrilled that she had killed someone, it wasn’t her first time, either. And Barba was right; in a perfect world, she would have been able to de-escalate the situation, even though she knew deep down that she only had the two options; kill or be killed. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. She thought back to the fight with Barba; she had dealt with…troublesome victims before: she’d had people yell at her, take a swing at her, threaten her and everyone she loved. So, why was this different? Why did this hurt so much more? A thought in her mind caught her attention. She tried to ignore it, to squish it, but it remained. You love him. She shook her head—no, no! She didn’t, couldn’t. They only met a few months ago! This was just a crush, a superficial infatuation based on living in such close quarters...ignoring the fact that he was ridiculously handsome, smart, funny, caring.... Okay, she had to stop thinking about it. It would pass, it had to.

“Morning,” Fin greeted. Devon jumped, not hearing him approach; she was too wrapped in her thoughts. She sat up and saw that he held a coffee out to her. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this.”

She took the coffee from him. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. She took a sip, letting it warm her; the cell was cold, despite the blanket. “So, what time is it?”

Fin checked his watch before answering, “seven. And bad news, IAB pushed your interview back. No official time yet,” Devon huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes; of course, they were going to make her sweat, waiting in a cell. Plus, it was Friday; they may make her wait all weekend. “Also, they told us to keep you in cuffs until you go into interrogation.”

“Ah, right. IAB: guilty until proven otherwise. Tucker still in charge?”

Fin smirked. “You think that asshole has anything better to do?”

Devon grinned, then took her seat on the bench that served as a bed, trying to calm her nerves. She sipped at her coffee but didn’t really taste it. Her mind was racing again; she wasn’t afraid of IAB, per se, but that wasn’t the only variable here. Tucker already had a deep dislike of Devon. And then there was also Barba’s statement. Was he still pissed at her? Would he throw her under the bus, tell IAB that she didn’t need to kill Marco? She honestly didn’t know, and that worried her most.

The day passed by slowly, but thankfully no other perp was added to the cage. She was only let out to use the restroom, and none of the detectives felt like making her wear the cuffs. Devon sat in silence, going over her testimony again and again, making sure she had an answer for everything. She was going to tell the truth, but IAB was good at twisting words and actions, and she wanted to be prepared. She replayed every moment from the night before…except for the fight with Barba. She knew she’d have to review it eventually, but she really didn’t have the strength after the sleepless night.

The detectives were all busy; Liv and Fin stopped by every now and again to check in, update her on IAB’s timetable and to see if she needed something. Technically, they weren’t allowed to talk about what had happened, even though Devon waived Miranda. It wasn’t until about 2pm that she had any real company. Detective Amaro came into the cage, bringing a plain bologna sandwich for Devon’s lunch. Government money at work.

“Thanks,” she said, sitting up. Amaro surprised her by taking a seat next to her.

“Mind if we talk a little bit? I feel like we haven’t really talked much,” he replied, handing her the sandwich. Devon unwrapped it, took a bite. Better than nothing, and her stomach was empty outside of shitty precinct coffee. It was true, though; besides bringing Barba in for cases, Devon hadn’t really been around SVU enough to really “meet” the new detectives. Not including the awkward hospital visit from the night before with Rollins.

“Uh, sure, as long as we don’t talk about last night; don’t want IAB coming down on your head, too. What’s on your mind?”

He held out his hand for her to shake. “Detective Nick Amaro. Transferred from narcotics. Been in SVU for a little over a year, but I don’t see myself doing anything else. Partnered first with Benson, and now Rollins. And trust me, I don’t need another reason to have IAB coming after me.”

Devon shook his hand, a little bemused that he was introducing himself. “Ah, Senior Special Agent Devon Motely. FBI for 20 years; started as negotiator and added on undercover. Don’t have a partner, but I do have a team, much like NYPD’s ESU. I trust them with my life, even if I don’t work with them as often as I’d like.”

Amaro sat for a moment, taking in her words. “I looked in your jacket, this is your third kill. Last two were clean, too.” He seemed a little nervous talking about her personal file but hid it well with a charming smile.

Third in the jacket, Devon mentally corrected, and that doesn’t include firefights, where it’s impossible to tell who shot whom. But that wasn’t something she was going to bring up, not now. Devon remembered the other two that were in her file, though. The first had haunted her for weeks afterwards, even if he did deserve it. The man was a bastard; trafficked young girls, even “tested” them out, to make sure they could perform. He had run when Devon confronted him, then started shooting once cornered. She just happened to get him first, total luck, and she knew it. Probably why she didn’t sleep for two weeks afterwards. The second one still hurt, even years later. It was a 22-year-old man—a kid, really—who was caught in a bad situation. He was abused, both physically and sexually, by his father since he was 13. Then one day, he snapped. Took a gun, went to his parent’s house. Devon was called in to try and de-escalate the situation. She got out of her car, and gunshots went off. The kid had shot both parents, then came out the front door just as Devon was rushing in. He had the gun facing down at the ground and didn’t raise it fast enough by the time he shot, hitting Devon in the hip. She reacted on instinct alone, shooting him in the stomach. He died in her arms, bled out before EMTs could get there. She still had nightmares about it, every time she looked at the scar on her hip. She was lucky; the bullet had gone clean through, hitting nothing. A one in a million shot.

“Devon?” Amaro asked, pulling Devon out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I, uh, I have shot two people before Marco, correct,” she replied. “Wish I hadn’t, but things happen on the job. I’m sure you know that.”

Amaro nodded. “Yeah, I—I’ve taken some shots before, too.” He let out a breath. “Takes a toll after a while, huh?” Devon agreed. It came with the job, and therapy was a lifesaver. But some scars took longer to heal than others. “So, how did this one go down?”

Wait, was he trying to interrogate her? Come in as a friend and pry into the case? Or was Devon looking into it too much? She wasn’t sure, but she also didn’t know the guy.

“I think that Tucker would be pretty pissed if I talked to an SVU detective about this,” she deflected, keeping her voice light.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to grill you or anything. But I agree; he already doesn’t care for me, anyways. Don’t need to give him more ammunition against me.”

“That’s something we have in common. You think they had to ‘push back’ this investigation because IAB is busy? CSU still processing info? Nah, Tucker hates my guts,” Devon chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think that’s just Tucker,” Amaro replied, smiling.

Just then, Fin walked up. Amaro stood to leave, as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Just so you know, they finally set a time. 3pm.” Fin announced. Thank god; having a set time took some of the weight off Devon’s shoulders, but it did make her stomach drop all the same. Both Amaro and Fin left then, Amaro giving Devon a small smile, a peace offering after her accusation.

Fin came back 20 minutes later and reluctantly cuffed Devon once more. At least he left them a little loose, so she wasn’t losing circulation. He took her to his squad car, and he, along with Rollins, drove her to IAB’s headquarters.

#rafael barba x oc #everyone deserves love #everyone deserves love chapter 7 p1 #edl #edl ch7 #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #oh no they're in love #it's happening

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heyvivalapluto · 3 years

Text

james s. potter headcanons

gryffindor. gryffindor pride. gryffindor king. gryffindor apologist. gryffindor!!!

he honors his name. james AND sirius? come on, u were asking for trouble and make it double

he/him/they/them

“you look exactly like your father, but your eyes... you have your mother’s eyes.”

yup, it just hits hard, i know

punk punk punk

he’s actually a small/short man, which is adorable. although it kinda ruins his punk scary vibe. he’s just too cute to handle

short king

red is HIS color. i don’t make the rules. red was invented to be james sirius color

they have a red jacket and that jacket is their signature

he’s absolutely gorgeous.

if he’s short, he’s also bad tempered. it’s the law.

“punks respect pronouns”

“against all authorities, except mi mamá”

he likes to discuss all types of subjects with rose. he feels like she’s the only one who understands

“is crying in class punk rock?”

wears silver earrings.

FIGHT THE SYSTEM. FIGHT THE CISTEM

(fake) leather jacket, (fake) leather fingerless gloves, motorcycle and boots. bad boy vibes alright (but deep down he’s a good boi)

“respecting the environment and the planet is punk rock.”

they are one of the kindest people to ever walk on earth. seriously, they just have the best heart

“there’s bravery in being soft”

teddy lupin is his big brother. period

he will fight. anything, anyone. he’s a fighter. rose and james are the best duo.

popular? yes. but he’s popular not because of his family, but because he’s really soft, and talks to everyone and has the greatest smile. u can’t help but love this guy.

he also has the best hugs in his whole family (and THAT is saying something)

brown eyes supremacy.

he wears glasses (he doesn’t need to!) so his father is not alone on this aesthetic. and he can rock the style as well

“all cops are bastards” / “i’m a magical cop, son” / “i said what i said.” (a conversation between harry and james at some point)

antifa

they are hilarious. you can’t be around them for too long and not laugh.

doesn’t care about school, to be honest. he’s an average kid when it comes to grades.

he studies hard enough to pass, but that’s all. james never wants to disappoint his parents.

even if he believes schools are all a governmental scheme

steven hyde is his comfort character

dog person

“i feel like you’re tying to tell me what to do, so i’m gonna do the opposite.”

their patronous is a panther

he’s really into sports, because of ginny. he used to train with her (when she went to the gym) while she was still on the holy harpies. he was little at the time, but he really wanted to train with his mom, because she’s so cool

he refused to be part of the quidditch team, because the captain at the time was an ass and he would never obey to that idiot.

years later, when rose became captain, he entered the team

momma’s boy alright

remember i said he was a fighter? he actually knows how to fight and damn is he strong. but well, he mostly fights bullies

(and as he gets older, he starts to punch racists and cops, which are basically the same)

he really tries to stay out of trouble, but trouble come and finds them.

“be kind. it’s gangster.”

hates coffee, hates tea. water is the real deal, my dudes

fuck gender roles

he loves fun socks. he just does, and that just sums up his whole personality.

so he might be wearing all that (fake) leather and all that black (with his red jacket because what the hey), but you will spot a sponge bob square pants on his ankle and you will be too afraid to ask.

whenever i think of him, he’s kickin ass. literally. i just see him kicking someone in the chest and that’s it.

𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴.

whenever harry and ginny receive a call from the ministery of magic or from the muggle police, they are not even surprised

(nor disappointed, to be honest. if he hates the government, that came from his parents who LITERALLY fought against the system in their younger years)

don’t ask about his love life (but you kinda don’t have to, because he’s not exactly what we call discreet about his crushes).

[bisexual panic]

hates horror movies

albus is always there to hold them and stop them from doing something stupid. he’s forever grateful

he’s always there when albus needs him too

their laugh is so loud and deep.

and whenever you hear it, you can’t help but laugh too. it’s contagious.

he reads a lot. and no, you shouldn’t be surprised, okay? because if he’s fighting against the system it’s because he’s educated.

he’s an intellectual, ok? ...who can also kick ass and take names.

first thought, best thought.

sidecut

it doesn’t matter your sexuality. at some point, you had a crush on this boy. either because of his looks, or because he’s really nice and funny, or because of his morals and principles.

terrible dancer

superprotective about lily. he loves her so much and they truly understand and support each other.

so goofy

his favorite uncle is george and his favorite aunt is hermione

queen is his favorite band

tacos are his comfort food

freckled boy

star wars fan because of albus.

those movies were the only things those boys agreed 100% about.

they speak spanish. fluently.

he can do magic without wands. “wands are just a formality”

he was the one who taught rose how to do any magic without wands

they never duel. they hate fighting with magic. they are a fan of the good hand-to-hand.

besides, they always end up breaking their wand, because he uses it as drumsticks

he knows how to play many instruments, such as: drums, tambourine, violin, bass, saxophone and electric guitar

he always hums some barbie song whenever he’s distracted.

cursing in spanish is their jam. “it’s just so badass, u know?”

he used braces for a while too. he saw that rose was going to use it (“fix what? she has the best smile?”), so he decided that he would too, because loyalty, man

do i even have to say that rose is his favorite cousin? he just connects with her so easily.

teddy is his best bro, so of course james was teddy’s best man and teddy was his.

holy harpies number one fan.

impatient. big time

“there’s nothing wrong in being weird. and there’s nothing wrong with being average.”

their loves is as intense as fire, but his heart is golden

you can’t make fire feel afraid

his favorite sitcom/show is how i met your mother. he believes in robin scherbatsky supremacy

he asked his best friend, iago zabinni, to the yule ball, because he knew how badly iago wanted to go and how heartbroken iago was because the boy he liked didn’t invite him. they had a great time.

james is an aries

when he plays quidditch, he’s a beater

“be gay, do crimes.”

honestly, think about sokka and zuko in one person

#james sirius potter #james sirius potter headcanons #headcanons #heyvivalapluto headcanons #hp headcanon #hp #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny

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salty-donut-collecter · 4 years

Text

I don't usually post many headcannons, but can we have a side!au where everyone is really good at things people wouldn't exactly expect them to be good at?

Below the cut are the ideas,, it’s a lot sorry, I got a little carried away with brainstorming.

Like Roman, who's not only creative, but also really good at using that creativity to build things? Like, idk the original thought was him not having enough money to but certain things like those makeup vanities, so he just built it himself, and he's very casual about it when people ask.

("Dang, Roman, that vanity looks sweet! Where did you get it??"

"Oh, I built it. Didn't have enough money to buy one, and the teachers had some extra supplies lying around. The light bulbs were expensive, though. Found the original dresser on ebay for about thirty dollars. It was a steal, really.")

and I know that they're technically that hard to make, but y'know, just Roman being really good with construction, carpentry, etc. Just because he likes knowing how to use his hands. (He is creativity, after all.)

Continuing that thought, why wouldn’t Remus be able to do those things too, y’know? Roman and him grew up together, and they were still too poor to just,, spend money on things. (Although, Remus would also probably solve this problem by shoplifting a lot, but idk that’s just me thinking)

or-- or Remus actually has more morals than people give him credit for. He isn’t a fan of shoplifting/pick pocketing-- even if he may have done so before/ knows how. He’ll see someone pickpocket someone else, and he’ll snatch whatever they took to give it back to whoever they took shiz from. (This would also be an interesting headcannon for Virgil/Janus, but rn I’m just spitballing I’m not gonna lie.)

Not only that, but Remus is surprisingly good with instruments. Like, sure, people wouldn’t be surprised if he knew how to play something deemed ‘wacky’, like kazoo, or the slide whistle. But violin? Only, like, Roman and Janus know that he plays violin, but god damn is he good with it. (The violin had been in the family for forever, and everyone assumed Roman would be the one to play it, but he never really cared for it. Remus plays very unconventional songs with the violin, but that doesn’t mean he’s practically a pro with it.)

Give me a Virgil who is scary good with cooking. When he was younger, he was terrified of the kitchen, which exactly why his parents gently exposed him to it more and more often. They showed him that there was nothing to be scared of, and that it was something to instead be respected. Through that, Virgil found joy in cooking, and he’s been doing it ever since. (Also, does he eat school lunch? No. No he doesn’t. It’s a disgrace and he refuses.)

He’s also good at baking, so he and Patton will have “bake days”, but he prefers cooking.

Okay okay, ready?

Logan who literally makes makeup masterpieces. Practically taught Roman everything he knows. He’s actually very artistic, but he’s very casual with it. Everyone thinks he’s just a prodigy in general, but they have no idea this dude just gets it. (He is very bad at baking, though. And while Virgil has tried to help him with cooking, Logan is really only good with most pastas and basic meal plans, and he almost always needs a recipe. Although, he is surprisingly good at making sushi and no one understands how or why.)

He also is very good at sewing, embroidering, and working with cloth in general. This is mainly because he wears nicer clothes 24/7, and he always manages to rip them somehow, so eventually he just started fixing them himself because he didn’t have time to wait for someone else to do it, and he was too embarrassed to keep asking his parents to help him with it. The skill just grew from there, and now he’ll reuse a lot of his old clothes, and help his friends patch theirs. He’s currently trying to help Patton learn how to patch his jeans, because he keeps ripping them while off doing god knows what with Remus.

Janus has mad math skills. Y’all thought Logan was a nerd? No, he’s just good at things like that. Janus both enjoys and knows math. I, however, do not so I can’t go into too much detail, but barely anyone knows and those who do are always surprised by it.

Janus also knows how to fix just about anything wrong with a car. He can change tires, exchange motors and car batteries, jump start your car, modify your car, etc. Most people don’t know this either, but everyone who does will go to Janus before taking their car into the shop. This is something Janus and Remus have in common, but Janus is a better, safer, driver.

Patton. Now Patton was one I struggled with, but I think I’ve got it. Most people don’t expect him to be good with tech, and he himself will never boast about it, but the kid is actually surprisingly good at coding, finding his way through websites, doing research, etc.

You need to find something online? Go to Patton. He might not do it for you for moral reasons, but if you ask nicely enough ans he decides to, he’ll find it within the next ten minutes.

On top of that, he actually speaks a few languages. He grew up learning them so he could talk to more people, because he realized not everyone spoke English. He for sure knows ASL, but he’s also moderately fluent in Spanish, Chinese, and he knows some Arabic. He’s not as fluent in other languages, but he tries his best, and he picks them up very quickly because he knows how to look for things. (Code, he was told, is a language, which is why he’d picked it up at first. He stayed around cause he just thought it was nifty.)

So, uhm, I’m not sure why I wrote this, but give me the Sanders boys with more skills that don’t exactly go with their character until you make the connection.

Feel free to take this idea and run with it, also! I don’t know too many skills off the top of my head, and I got kinda stuck on Remus, so if there are other skills that would be cool feel free to join in on the brainstorming!! :D

#aej writes #i ~talk~#roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #sander sides headcanon #sander sides #sander sides hc #aaaaaaa i don't post stuff like this often I'm ngl I'm kinda ~nervous~

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iwillsithereandtrytocontribute · 3 years

Text

Solus

Pairings: None

Warnings: Nightmares, parent death (past, not described in detail),

Masterlist Ao3

Spoilers for the Rome Arc

I’ve been having a lot of Feelings about Sasha, Rome, and the letters so have this. I’m planning on having a sort of series follow-up, but we’ll see how I much I get done of that.

Some quick notes:

1. The title "Solus" is Latin for alone. 2. There's some Latin interspersed in the text, it should be translated right after. If not, please let me know. 3. My personal headcanon is that Sasha did name a kid Brock and just didn't mention it because none of the people receiving this letter actually knew Brock.

Enjoy :)

Sasha Rackett has had her life torn apart a thousand times, a thousand ways. She’s lost her parents, her friends, her rivals, her mentors, and everyone in between. Growing up in Other London though, you learn to be tough. To have a thick skin so that if you can’t dodge the knives they still can’t leave a mark.

Nothing could have prepared her for this. So much has happened in the span of three days. She went to Rome, saved Beaming Gusset and the other hostages, time traveled, lost her friend, and watched the fall of Rome in real time. And here she is trudging along in the countryside that surrounds what was once Rome. The gutted empty shell she’d seen 2,000 years in the future now that the dragons had had their fill of revenge.

Sasha is not alone for once, though sometimes she can’t quite decide if it’s a blessing or a curse. She thinks maybe somewhere in the middle. She’s grown used to being around company, even just those few friends, the past couple months. Gods, it’s only been a month or two since she left London behind, likely forever. Does London even exist now?

Cicero follows doggedly behind her. It’s his turn to hold the kid. Sasha couldn’t save everyone. Hell, she could barely save anyone, but they couldn’t ignore the child they found, half buried under the rubble. Somehow he had survived. And somehow they had found him. Sasha couldn’t save everyone, she couldn’t save Grizzop, but she could save him.

Cicero looked up to catch Sasha’s eye and she realized with a start that she’d been staring at him. She nodded at him awkwardly and he nodded back.

“Water?” Sasha asked, forgetting where she was for a minute. “Um, right sorry,” she continued seeing Cicero’s confused expression. “Right. Á-áqua? Right? Or is that Spanish,” Sasha mused to herself. Judging from the change in Cicero’s expression she’d gotten it right. He carefully laid the kid down and took the water skin as Sasha offered it.

As he drank, Sasha took stock of their combined injuries. Cicero is looking a lot better than he did yesterday, even going on with no sleep as they are. His main injuries were healed by the potion and he had gotten over the shock well enough. Sasha had had worse. And the kid probably had some head trauma, fading in and out of consciousness like he was. So all in all, they might look like hell, but they were surviving.

“Témpus?” Sasha tried in her broken Latin. The potions they’d taken back in Rome had long since worn off, leaving a language gap with a thin bridge across, held up by the few Latin lessons she had taken back when Barret had sent her to Upper London for “an education.”

Cicero held up 4 fingers. “Quáttuor hóra.” 4 hours. Sasha nodded and took a deep breath. She took the water skin back and hooked it onto her belt. She counted her daggers obsessively, checking and double-checking that her spring-loaded wrist sheaths were loaded. Finally satisfied, she lifted the kid as gently as she could, muscles screaming in protest as she lifted him, and continued in the direction Cicero had pointed in as they left the destruction of Rome.

“I know a place,” he had said. “This way.” Sasha had followed because what else could she do? She was alone, alone, as out of her element as it was possible to be. So she followed.

It took them just over 5 hours to reach the house. The villa really. It was large, with wide sprawling grounds and tall pillars that surrounded the courtyards. Sasha slumped slightly with relief. Here was a place to rest, if only for a little while.

Cicero gestured her inside, staggering in behind her, his legs weak beneath the kid’s weight. He wasn’t particularly large, but they had been trading him off for hours with little to no rest. They had been too anxious to get away from Rome. Sasha didn’t know much about the fall of Rome, and certainly if the dragons had decided to pick off the few people who had escaped the city no one would have known about it regardless. Cicero seemed to share her anticipation if not her thought process, and had agreed without question not to sleep for the night.

Sasha sighed, rubbing her forehead. She was going to have to learn Latin wasn’t she?

She made sure the kid was taken care of. The villa seemed pretty empty, but she trusted Cicero a moderate amount at this point. Something about living through an apocalyptic event with someone makes you want to trust him. Sasha would not be surprised to learn later that the villa was owned by a rich family. All of whom were in Rome at the time of its fall. At its center. The chances of their survival were slim to none. They did not turn up to reclaim their home.

Finding a room for the kid, she’s started calling him Brock in her head, was easy. Sasha sits in a chair across from the bed, intending to keep an eye on him for just a little while. It wouldn’t do for him to wake up alone. Sasha has woken up alone before.

The dark she loves so much, suddenly pressing in close. The bedsheets, blankets, her own clothing, suddenly tight and strangulatory. Her panicked heavy breathing as she pads down the stairs to her parent’s bedroom, silent as ever, only to find a pristine, empty bed. Huddling, knees close to her chest as she instructs herself over and over not to cry. Failing.

Sasha wakes up with a start, knife immediately in hand and held to her attacker’s throat. Cicero blinks uncomfortably, shaking slightly as he carefully removes his hand from Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha wrenches her dagger from his neck in a motion so quick it looks as though she was never holding a dagger at all.

Looking outside she can see the sun setting. She must have fallen asleep. She’s no stranger to nightmares, though that one’s worse than most. Sasha rubs at her eyes as Cicero tries to lead her out of the room.

“No. No, wait. We shouldn’t leave him alone!” Sasha pulls away, only to be caught by Cicero again. “Um, um.” Sasha racks her brain. “Solus,” she says, pointing at the kid. Alone. Cicero nods, pushing her towards the door again. Sasha tries protesting again, when he lets go of her to sit in the chair he had found her in.

Sasha nodded with understanding. “Grátiās.” Thanks. Cicero returns the nod with a tired smile.

“Sómnus.” Sleep.

Sasha understands. And she sleeps.

Not without nightmares.

There’s the usual contenders; losing Brock, losing her parents, Barret’s manipulation, a particularly gory end to a co-conspirator from an Other London heist. But over the last months, she’s gained oh so many more. In her dreams she listens to Mr. Ceiling tear her mind and body apart, feels her humanity slip away, sees Zolf leave, and Grizzop die. Over and over she sees and feels spears plunge, needles prick, knives slice, and magic burn. Sasha does not remember the last time she slept through the night without waking up in a cold sweat, but the dreams have only increased in number and intensity.

Sasha does not remember the last time her eyes were clear of their deep circles, that against her pale skin give her a sickly glow even when she’s not mostly undead.

Sasha wakes up, and stays awake when the sun rises over the gently sloping hills surrounding the secluded villa. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she gives a small smile at the beautiful scarlet red sunrise. Her smile fades when she sees the thick wall of smoke at the edge of the horizon, assisting the sun in painting a blood red sky.

A painful reminder that Rome has fallen and Sasha was here to see it. Alone.

Years later

They went back. Back to the city once they were sure the dragons had had their fill of it. They found so very few to save. Mostly children. So many children. Sasha’s heart broke to hear their cries, to see them clutching at the torn clothes of their parents as they came to save them. They aren’t alone anymore.

Some were too young to know their names, too young to remember their families in a couple of years. Sasha gave them names. Amidus, Wilde, Brock, Azu, Grizzop, Sagax for Zolf, even Bertus. It took a couple years for the sad smile she had whenever she said their names to turn genuine, but it did happen eventually. It was as much a way to remember her friends as her yearly trips to the temple of Artemis in the nearest city were.

She taught them everything she knew. Acrobatics, stealth, throwing daggers, how to detect traps, the whole lot of it. Cicero covered the more academic side of things, the villa had a decent library, and all things considered he was a good teacher.

Sasha had never expected to live long. It just didn’t happen in Other London. Before she left, Barret was the oldest person she had ever seen and he wasn’t far past fifty. Besides, her line of work was dangerous. Yet, here she was, living. Passing down a legacy to these kids. She hadn’t realized how much she had wanted someone to learn what she knew, how much she wanted to pass down her knowledge.

She found that fulfillment in the children and teenagers they rescued from the still-smoldering ruins of Rome. And they found new lives with her and Cicero.

Still, on the days she felt like she was forgetting her old life, Sasha would slip away. To a secluded spot in the orchard that only she knew about and slide on her old leather jacket, and she would just take a moment to remember.

Remember gruff Zolf, with more rough exterior than a ship covered in barnacles. The first to make her a partner rather than someone to order around. Flighty little Hamid, gods Sasha missed his hugs. Out of all of them, he was the one who’d stuck around the longest. The soft, kind Azu and her complete understanding. It was rare that Sasha could find someone to be silent with, and yet there Azu was. Grizzop, who practically vibrated whenever he got angry. Sasha always started crying by this point. Grizzop, who had given everything to protect her. And Wilde. After all their time spent together, Wilde had grown on her. Sasha still thinks of puns he would like sometimes. She writes them down on a sheaf of paper. Maybe he’ll get them one day. Even Bertie’s sharp edges have been softened with time, and memory always puts a hazy glow on the past. Sasha knows he was horrible, but he’s still a part of the best and worst months of her life, so she can’t just forget him.

One day, many many years after Sasha has been trapped in the past she sits down to write a letter. One that she hopes might someday reach her friends. Her only way to say goodbye.

She’s been writing them letters for years. Hamid, Azu, Wilde, even Zolf in the vain hope that they will find them.

They are a mix of English and Latin, it’s been so long since she’s spoken or written in her native language, she can hardly remember it anymore. As time passes, they become almost entirely Latin. Sasha knows they’ll find a way to read them.

She’s getting on in years now, so much older than she ever dreamed of being. So she writes each letter knowing it might be her last, not that she ever believed any different.

She signs each one with the name her family gave her. Both of them.

Whosaskinus “Sasha” Lolomg

So... Here. Like I said, I have plans to make a short series with some letter Sasha writes to the party (because there’s no way it was just the one) and I really like writing in her voice. If you’d like to be tagged in that when I post it please let me know. If you just want to chat my inbox is open. Stay safe :)

#rqg #rusty quill gaming #sasha rackett #rqg cicero #rqg spoilers #rqg fic #jasper writes

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luna-the-moth · 3 years

Text

Obey Me! Headcanon Game

Soo...I found this through a discord channel, so let’s get to it shall we? (Prepare to read a long ass questionnaire)

OG link (Credit to cerise_noire8 on Twitter)

(Made on Picrew)

1 • What is your MC’s name? What is their name origin? What does it mean (if it ever has a meaning).

Ayano Miasako. Not any explanation for that yet. Her mentor, Cleo calls her “Aya” Nickname in the mafia was “Silver”

2. When is their birthday? How old are they? What about their zodiac sign? (bonus point if you give their rising or even their birth/natal chart)

February 23 23-25. Capricorn

3. What is your MC’s gender? And what are their sexual/romantic preferences?

Female. Bisexual

4. What is your MC’s race? (human, demon, angel, other). If human, what are their nationality and origins?

Ayano’s human with a relation as Lilith’s descendant. Ayano’s half Japanese/Korean. She was born in Kyoto and was raised in the mafia.

5. Before coming to Devildom, what was their occupation? (job, studies...)

She was a mafioso until age 20, when she left. As a compensation for leaving, she has to wire the boss a certain amount of money per year. Ayano has a penthouse in Tokyo with her cat, Luci. She now works as a business tycoon, and wins most of her money from gambling and business investments. Ayano has a degree in anthropology and psychology

Ayano in the Mafia

6 • Height? Weight? Describe their body type.

Ayano’s 5’6 (167cm). She’s around 140 lbs or 64kg. Ayano has a medium-large bust, an hourglass figure, and decent sized ass

7. Who is/are your MC’s love interest(s) (if they ever have one). Summarise their dynamic.

Mammon, her protective Tsundere. Or Satan, the sly and intelligent bookworm trying to find his true self. She’s the ultimate tease to Mammon, knowing he likes her but is waiting for him to make a move. Mammon ends up flustered. She and Satan try to out-flirt each other with cheesy pickup lines and are often seen sitting next to each other in a loveseat, with tea and a good book. Satan calls her kitten, Ayano calls him her knight in shining armor (jokingly.) Mammon calls her “my lucky charm” Ayano calls him “blackjack,” but prefers calling all the boys by their names.

8 • Does your MC have any specific appearance features? (Scars, marks, anything else)

Ayano has various scars from her time in the mafia. She has 2 prominent stab wounds on her upper back from a betrayal. A yakuza tatoo on her hip. Plus a medium slash scar on her stomach. She got two black feathered wing tattoos on them to represent her freedom from the mafia. Ayano has heterochromatic eyes, left green, right purple. Usually wears a green contact over the purple to hide it. She also has distaichis (double lash layers). Jet black, waist length hair, pale-snow white skin. She usually sports this outfit

Wears a new type of nail art every 1-2 weeks depending on her mood. Lovesss jewelry

9 • Does your MC have any disabilities? (physical, mental health, etc). How do they deal with it?

Depression and anxiety. Solution: do a Lucifer and does anything and everything to keep her mind occupied. She also makes friends with cheerful people

10 • How do you imagine your MC’s voice? Describe it.

Medium pitch, smooth, lulling voice. Has a slight new york accent even though she’s never been there (taught by Cleo) Mostly formal in public and swears every so often. (she refrains from doing so around Luke). Her singing voice is very powerful, has a wide range of pitches, and can enchant many.

11 • Does your MC have any tattoos or piercings? Just tell us more about it!

2 black wings on her stab wounds on her back. A yakuza tattoo on her hip. A normal piercing on both ears with a few helix piercings as well

12 • Describe their clothing style (if they have a favorite style). Do they have specific accessories?

Bonus question: how do they wear RAD uniform?

Ayano’s fashion style is fashionista, dark fashionista, occasionally gothic/elegant lolita. Loves leather and silver. She often wears a silver necklace gifted (stolen?) from her mentor, with her mother’s silver ring hanging from it. Fingerless, black leather gloves. Usually wears a ring on her right hand, middle finger. Ayano wears the RAD uniform properly, with a red tie, black jeggings, and thigh-high black boots.

The redesigned RAD uniform

13 • Is your MC able to use magic? If so, are they skilled? How do they learn? Were they able to use it before coming to Devildom?

Yes, when she came to the Devildom, Solomon decided to teach her to hone her skills. In the human world, when really pissed, light bulbs would burst in her presence. Ayano learns quickly, so yes, she became skilled in a small time frame. She’s fond of enchanted jewelry (because they are pretty and have practicality)

14 • Describe your MC’s parents (names, jobs, personalities). Do they have any siblings? What is their relationship with their family?

Ayano’s mother, Kyoko (japanese) was dead while Ayano was very young. Her real father is unknown besides the fact that he was a ‘korean bastard’ from her stepfather. She despises her step father (the feeling’s mutual) and ran away from home at age 13. Ayano has an older (3-4) brother. At age 20, they reconnected and have a good, stable relationship.

15 • How many language do they speak? Which ones?

Ayano can read/speak: Japanese, English, Korean, Latin, Spanish, and French

16 • What is their relationship with each brothers?

Lucifer - fondness, cautious, interest - mixed feelings. Ayano isn’t fond of some of his methods, but recognizes his change throughout the program. She thinks he cares a lot for his brothers and respects that. Lucifer is glad that Ayano is well-mannered and courteous, but is suspicious on her relations to Solomon. Although she’ll never admit it, sometimes Ayano goes into his study with tea and a light dessert for him.

Mammon - Affectionate, loving, warmth, protectiveness. Ayano thinks Mammon as someone very dear to her, so she is protective of him. He’s a possible love interest, and Ayano likes teasing and flirting when he shows his Tsundere side. Mammon thinks that she’s his lucky charm, and loves bringing her to the casino with him, to show off, and to brag. He always becomes flustered when she teases him, but revels in it.

Levi - Ayano thinks Levi should have more confidence, and is gentle with him. Playing rpg or strategy games with him is a pastime of Ayano’s, Levi is slightly scared of her skills in that aspect. Since Ayano can also mimic voices well, he begs her to make Ruri-chan impersonations and such.

Asmo - Fun, flirty, and thrilling. At first, Ayano thought he was a narcissistic, vain bastard. Which is partially true tbh. When she started doing various makeup looks, that’s when Asmo started to bond with her. The two love messing with various skincare, haircare, makeup, and fashion items. On Fridays, they have a self-care night, with Mammon occasionally bursting in.

Satan- Was suspicious of him, noticing his mask and seeing through it right away. After noting that he is lost inside, she warms up to him and bonds with him over her cat, Luci, tea, and their shared love of crime novels. Satan was also suspicious of her at the beginning, but after she warmed up to them and slowly started revealing herself, they gradually started drifting closer. They can sometimes be seen reading together with tea and biscuits.

Bee l- Ayano absolutely adores Beel. She thinks of him as a giant teddy bear and knew he was genuine from the start. Ayano stress-bakes and experiments with recipes from time to time, and asks Beel to taste test them. Beel was glad she apologized and started warming up to her after the custard incident. He loves her baking, and is fond of her, as they take a jog/work out together sometimes.

Belphie - Complicated. She doesn’t care for Belphie. Yes, she wanted to free him, only because she hates feeling trapped as well and disliked Lucifer’s choice of punishment. The fact he changed so quickly after finding out about Lilith made her dislike him even more. However for the boys’ sake, she is cordial to him. Belphie just *wants her to like him dammit*

17 • What is their relationship with each side characters?

Diavolo- Ayano likes Diavolo, not only is he a powerful ruler, he is a right and just one as well. Sometimes, if he asks, she’ll sing human world songs to him during tea with Barbatos. Ayano thinks of him as a kind man with *so many goddam secrets hidden inside.* Diavolo likes that Ayano entertains him on the human world, and is well-mannered and playful. He’s very interested on trying various exotic human world recipes as well.

Luke- She thinks of Luke as a chihuahua, or a little kid. Harmless and adorable. Ayano likes teasing Luke and baking sweets with him. He thinks of her as an older sister, and loves having her attention.

Solomon - During her time in the mafia, around age 20, she went and stopped by an under-hyped bar. She was really pissed that day, as one of her subordinates almost had everyone killed. So, she decided to buy some whiskey and find a hookup to relieve stress. After flirting and chatting with Solomon for an hour or so, they went back to her place.....In the morning, she woke up a bit early, slightly nauseous, but mostly ok. Solomon was still asleep at the time. After preparing some korean hangover soup, she went back to her room, only to find a signed note and Solomon's number. Ayano and Solomon are pretty much friends with benefits. They’re playful and mischievous, and sometimes stop by each other’s rooms at night for-...Anyways, Ayano has taken for Solomon and would do it again. Solomon thinks Ayano as an admirable person and interesting, so he sticks by her. You can see them at a casino, getting drinks, and watching Ayano’s insane luck wins her her hundreds of thousand at the end of the night.

Simeon- Ayano doesn’t trust Simeon, as he doesn’t really seem like an angel and is shady. After the play and seeing him being ruthless, she distances herself even more from him. Simeon wishes she would be closer with him, but is glad that Luke bonds with her.

Barbatos- You cannot convince her otherwise that Barbatos is not Sebastian Michaelis’ twin Oftentimes, she will help him around the kitchen or garden,, enjoying his company. Barbatos is glad that Ayano can help out, but keeps an eye on her due to her past. Very relieved she has good manners in public though. They both teach Luke to bake sweets, and are protective over him.

18 • What is your MC’s main hobbies and passions?

Hobbies: Reading, throwing knives, composing/listening/singing music, baking, food tasting, playing with cats, drinking wine, sketching/painting, gambling, and gardening. She is obsessed with Cerberus, and loves taking him for walks.

19 • Why do they ended up in Devildom in the first place? What happened to them?

Ayano made a deal with a business man (Barbatos) to go to Siberia for a year in order to make a demonology/mythology film, she was supposed to travel to Siberia when she fell asleep on the plane, to wake up in RAD. This isn’t too weird from what she’s experienced before, so she thought it would be an interesting and worthwhile experience. After all, she can’t really fight back against demons, so acceptance is the only option.

20 • What is your MC’s MBTI type?

Unknown. Ayano is more of a quiet extrovert. A great people person, but seems a tad cool and aloof at first. She’s very polite and all, but never let’s people in due to trust issues. Very perceptive and emotionally intelligent. Ayano was able to pick up on the boys’ true colors within a short time span. Is very intelligent and can offer worthwhile theories and conversations. To the people she loves, she is most like a lazy cat, affectionate, playful, and teasing.

21 • Do they have pact with each bro? Do they often use their pacts? In which situations?

Has pacts with all the brothers except for Belphegor. She cares for the brothers, and refuses to use the pacts in any way, shape, or form.

22 • What is their favorite place in Devildom?

Madam Screams, the royal library, the roof of the HoL, or the beach Diavolo made.

23 • Which sin fit them the most?

Wrath, she’s very much like Satan

24 • Describe their personality.

Constantly tries to analyze a person's every move. Keeps a polite mask on. She tries her best to stay calm in most situations and to find a way out. However, she is incredibly sadistic to people who have wronged her, preferring to use psychological torture. Often uses dark humor and keeps a knowing smile on her face. Tries to find a logical solution to every problem and is melodramatic around the people she cares about. She will tease you to oblivion and is a very playful character when you get to know her. Much like a cat, she is affectionate and likes to play around, sometimes flirtatious. She’s a total sweetheart when you get to truly know her though. Ayano however, is also very reasonable and knows when she's fucked up. For example, when Beel freaked out over the custard. She ordered 20 cups of custard from Madam Scream's that night for the next day. Ayano then presented it to him the next afternoon, offering her sincerest apologies. When she trusts someone, they have her absolute loyalty. She will guard their lives with hers and would take a bullet for them If they break her trust tho, they're pretty much dead to her and even though she is polite to them, they will never be close with her again. When she falls for someone, she falls hard. Loyalty is of upmost importance to Ayano.

25 • What is their moral alignment?

Chaotic Neutral. Ayano doesn’t really follow the law, but has a clear set of morals and a bottom line.

26 • Does your MC possess an object/something especially dear to their heart?

A silver necklace from her mentor, with a silver ring that belonged to her mother hanging from it.

27 • Which character(s) do they consider as their best friend(s)?

Solomon, Satan, and Mammon.

28 • Choose a song that fits your MC.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4eaMfUtynM&list=RDMM&index=29

Dirty by Grandson

29 • What are your MC’s religious beliefs?

Agnostic, she thought something was out there. Hell though, was a surprise.

30 • Describe what is inside your MC’s school bag.

Books, sketchpad, pencils, pens, textbooks, compact mirror, and a switchblade - just in case

31 • Describe their appearance (pic refs are ofc allowed).

Snow-pale skin. She has jet black, waist length slightly wavy hair in a side part, heterachromatic eyes - left green right purple. Wears a green contact over the purple in public. 5’6 or 168 cm tall. medium bust and hourglass figure with multiple miscellaneous scars on her legs and arms (7-8) from bullet/stab wounds. 2 prominent stab wounds on her lower back. 5'8.

22 • What is your MC’s greatest fear?

Losing another person she cares about, surprisingly enough, she gets attached faster than one would think.

33 • Is your MC Lilith’s descendant? If yes, how did they react when they learn about it?

Yes, tbh Ayano wasn’t surprised. If Lilith lived that long ago, than ⅓ of the population are her descendants. What makes her so special?

34 • Do they have a pet/animal?

Yes, a calico cat with blue eyes named Luci, 4 years old.

35 • What are their grades like? (In Devildom)

Top 5 students in class. Usually second or third to Satan and Lucifer. Ayano absorbs knowledge pretty easily, and can also read a book fast. Is also a very helpful tutor. Describes and explains material in a brief manner.

36 • Do you think they have any other friends in Devildom aside the characters game? Or do they just stay with them?

Her mentor Cleo turned out to be a witch! So sleepovers, spa days, and movie binges with each other are a must! Also, Mephistopheles is a drinking partner from time to time. Don’t forget Solomon, who Ayano goes to for....stress relief.

37 • What is their favourite food?

Takoyaki, basically fried dough with octopus tentacles. Or Korean BBQ. Is obsessed with sweet and sour combos

38 • Do they have any specific talent? (artistic, random fact, etc)

She’s an artistic person, knowing what angles to take pics and lovesss sketching the boys. Baking is a stress thing, reading with tea is a pastime of hers. Likes trying out different nail art every week or so. Gardening or tending to plants is a must.

39 • Who is the person they rely on when not feeling well?

Cleo, she’s been Ayano’s mentor since age 13. The only one who knows her full, true self. A girl’s day out will ensue, or a girl’s day in, depending on what Ayano wants.

40 • How did they decorate their bedroom in the House of Lamentations? I mean, the game’s MC bedroom is cool but we all know it need customisation. If your MC does not live with the bros, just describe their bedroom.

She completely redecorated the room with Cleo’s help. Absolutely hated the OG design.

Ayano’s Human world flat : https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/301-E-61st-St-19A-New-York-NY-10065/300195837_zpid/

41 • Are they a heavy or light sleeper? How many hours of sleep do they get? Do they have insomnia or do they fall asleep easily? Just describe your MC's sleep habits.

Ayano’s a light sleeper, because in the mafia, she had to be up at any given moment. Usually 6 hours of sleep. She has insomnia, and sleeps at like 12 am or 1 pm. Usually wakes up at 6am, every day. Can sleep at any given moment though. She’s a female Lucifer in that sense

42 • What is your MC's Devilgram username?

@Silver_Aya

43 • Does your MC have a part-time job during the exchange? If yes, where in Devildom?

Yes. Well not really, does investing in stocks and gambling count? By the end of week 2 in the Devildom, she has 10 million grimm in her account.

44 • How do they deal with the exchange program at first? Do they adapt easily in Devildom? Was it hard for them to be far away from the human world? Were they excited of in panic?

Ayano just went with the flow. It’s a whole new realm, how could she not be excited? Asks Cleo to show her around. It takes a week or two to fully adapt to the Devildom. She missed her cat, but luckily Cleo told her she was taking care of Luci at her human world flat. Kinda hated the fact that the HoL was full of 7 guys, but is in close contact with Cleo. The first night, she asked to go to a casino with Mammon and went from 250,000 grimm, to 1,000,000 grimm on her card.

45 • Do your MC’s relatives/friends know they are in Devildom? How do they deal with their absence? Tbh I’m just wondering what is happening during the exchange program since in the game, MC didn’t really choose to be there.

Well, everyone knew Ayano would be gone for a year, so they carried on fine. Her brother missed her expertise, but knew she’d be fine. Cleo brings her bills and contracts to finish up in the human world, and has hired a cleaner to come in once a month.

46 • How do they feel when they have to leave Devildom for the first time after their first one year exchange? Did they just return to the occupation they had before the exchange program? Did this experience change them? (Sorry these questions are more for human MC)

Ayano misses everyone terribly, and calls and texts everyone once or twice every week to update. She keeps in contact with Solomon to continue her magic lessons. Ayano just goes back to Japan like everything’s normal. Diavolo had a movie made during her time in the Devildom on some random mythology, which turned out to be a box office sensation. Everything is pretty much the same.

47 • Describe your MC’s D.D.D: phone case, wallpaper…

A neutral toned, light phone case with lotus flowers and lily pads. Her lock screen is a white/cream rose. Ayano’s wallpaper is her posing with Luci, her calico cat with blue eyes. Ayano’s kissing Luci’s nose in the picture. Her lock screen is a

48 • How do they react to praise? How do they react to criticism?

Says “thank you” or some variation of that from a stranger. If it’s an acquaintance, same. If it’s a friend, a thank you and a genuine smile. A close friend, a hug and thanks with a compliment thrown back. A lover, kisses and cuddles. Cleo, ‘awww, so sweet from someone so deadly’.

To strangers: shoots the criticism back in twice the snippiness if they’re being rude. If it’s constructive criticism, she’ll respect that. Acquaintances, again, same as above. Friends:depends if it’s in a teasing manner. If so, she’ll tease back, if it’s rude and uncalled for, she’ll tell them. Close friends: will be fine with teasing and will tease back. Will accept actual criticism if it’s constructive, will ask why they said so if it’s rude. Lover: WIll TEASE BACK WITH TICKLES. If it’s an actual criticism, she’ll take that into account and embrace it. Cleo: will jab back with an embarrassing story. If it’s real, will change if it’s reasonable

49 • What is their future goal? (it could be their actual goal [dont forget the tw spoiler], their dream job, any other wish they want for the future)

To have a happy family, in a nice home. Also to make others happy and inspire them. She already has her dream job, so a S/O would be perfect for Ayano to balance her out.

50 • Describe their perfume/scent.

Her perfume smells like spices, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and vanilla in particular. Her shampoo/conditioner, and body wash give her hints of oat milk and ginger, coffee and coconut. Cleo and Satan would say she smells like a cafe.

51 • Did they ever commit a crime or have been arrested?

Yes, she’s been in the mafia, meaning she’s killed, stolen, and broken into houses.

52 • (A bit TW??) Do they smoke? Do they drink?

An occasional Mexican cigar. She likes wine and whiskey in particular. Doesn’t get drunk too often. At most she gets tipsy.

53 • Do they play a musical instrument?

Piano, violin, guitar, and bass

54 • How do they see themselves? How do they want to be seen by others?

Ayano sees herself as a horrible person. Being in the mafia, she’s done and seen horrifying things. She wishes to one day be able to see redemption in herself, that’s why she donates to charity and volunteers often. She wants to be seen as approachable and kind to others, albeit one not to mess with. Ayano dreams to be an inspiration for young children, showing that you can come up from nothing.

55 • What was your MC like as a child? Did they have a happy childhood?

Ayano grew up in an abusive household. Her father blamed her for her mother’s death, when in reality, he shot her while drunk and blamed Ayano as a coping method. Her brother was kept away from her, so he barely knew her. Ayano didn’t even know he remembered her at all. When she ran away at 13, she lived on the streets for some time, stealing food and clothing. Sometimes a kind person would give her some money or food, but most walked by or looked at her in disgust. One day, she managed to steal a silver necklace from her future mentor, Cleo. Cleo was a mafia boss’ daughter, and was impressed that Ayano could steal from her at all. After begging and persuasion, her father let Ayano join the mafia as her apprentice.

56 • Would they prefer to live forever in Devildom or come back/live in the human world?

Ayano would most likely try and find a way to become immortal, in order to live in the Devildom. The brothers and undateables are her family pretty much. She’d ask Cleo if Luci can be brought down and made immortal as well.

57 • Did they ever get the chance to visit the Celestial realm? If so, what do they think about it? Did they meet Michael? (Ofc it’s your personal hc since Michael never appeared in the game)

Yes, after much begging and pleading from Luke, Simeon reluctantly agreed to let her into the Celestial Realm. She loves the food ofc, especially the fruit. She never met Michael because he was “on a business trip.”

58 • Do the pact marks appear on their skin? If yes, where are they? What do they look like?

Yes, they appear on her skin, only when she uses her pact though, as Solomon told her. They have not been seen as of now….

59 • What is your MC’s favorite music genre? Do they have any favorite band/singer? Favorite song?

Ayano likes to listen to classical, indie rock, rap, and some pop. She’s fond of Frank Sinatra, James Arthur, and NF. There are like 20 songs Ayano would consider her ‘favorite’

60 • Choose 4 pics that fit your MC’s aesthetic. (I chose 6 bc why not?)

#ayano miasako #ayano #cleo #obey me #headcanons #questionnaire #aesthetic

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