#also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[halemerry]

hii first of all, i absolutely love your metas on GO s2! your breakdown of the last few minutes of ep6 was really insightful and i love you for your meta about aziraphale and his role as a protector - it is a very astute look into his character and motivations which not a lot of people acknowledge in their theories/speculation after s2.

more to the point of this ask: this is something i've been mulling over and is the only thing that still doesn't make sense to me in ep6. why is crowley so nonchalant, or at least not noticeably worried, about the metatron showing up to the bookshop (a space he is very protective of) and taking aziraphala away for a talk after aziraphale has already been threatened by micheal? throughout the whole season crowley has been extremely protective over aziraphale and is very much aware of the real danger he is in (re: the book of life). this is also right after crowley has returned from heaven and has learned what the metatron was willing to do to gabriel to ensure 'institutional integrity' and that much bigger plans were afoot. i find it hard to wrap my head around his calm demeanor when the metatron enters the scene and takes aziraphale away, even if it's supposedly for a harmless talk. i wonder if you have any thoughts/speculation about this?

(opps this got too long and rambling). i would love to hear your thought but ofc please don't feel pressured to answer :) love your posts about the season and i look forward to reading more from you. have a lovely day!

Hi!! Thank you so much! This ask has had me by the throat basically since you sent it. It sort of touches on some things I already wanted to write about so forgive me if this spirals a bit.

So in a lot of ways I think this is a question that can have a one word answer. But since I do wanna talk about the way the show gives us this answer I actually want to start with Nina. Specifically I want to start with the thing she tells Crowley as Aziraphale’s off with the Metatron.

“You’re the hard bitten one that can’t trust anyone ever again and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one that still believes in magic people being basically good and all that."

I’ve talked a little bit about this line before in my meta about the build up to the Confession here because I think it’s important to view from the perspective of how it preps Crowley for the following conversation he’s about to have. But, aside from that, I think it's really important because it's wrong. Nina is describing herself here, not Crowley. She’s projecting her own issues onto him and Aziraphale in the way that she perceives herself relating to them. Crowley himself is actually the one that calls out her trust issues for what they are explicitly. 

Nina doesn’t trust and she sees herself in Crowley far more than Aziraphale both in demeanor and aesthetic so she assumes he doesn’t trust either. But she has it backwards. Because Crowley isn’t hard bitten as much as someone who tries very hard to be perceived as such. And, most importantly in this specific context, Crowley actually trusts quite a bit.

And he nearly always has. Even as far as back as the Starmaker.

Just look at the way that the Starmaker and Aziraphale both talk about interacting with God. Aziraphale is nervous, anxious and pretty much immediately clocks that what the angel that would become Crowley is saying is going to get him into trouble. But the Starmaker? Even upset about the information he’s been given, he remains confident in the fact that it can’t hurt to ask a few questions. He trusts there to be no consequence for expressing an objection. He trusts that his opinion is valued. Even if he ends up wrong here there’s no inclination at all that he thinks his words will be taken inappropriately. And even the Fall itself doesn’t burn this out of him.

We see him trust Aziraphale, the cherub who was supposed to be guarding Eden from things like him, not to smite him on sight. And trusts him enough to not only have a conversation but express his own worries about his own actions. He then approaches Aziraphale like a friend at the Flood and makes no attempt to censor his horror at what is happening there.

Job is the first time we see Crowley act in a way that implies mistrust between them. This is the first time they’ve met since the Flood which I suspect is contributing to his reluctance to be honest with Aziraphale here. They fall into their roles and then very rapidly fall out of them. The fact Azriaphale reaches out to Crowley here is important. As is the moment where Crowley asks Aziraphale if he’s sure. After Aziraphale more or less agrees to be all in something changes. Crowley is surprisingly honest about his view on the world, mostly trusting Aziraphale not to use it against him. He places himself in front of a host of angels, trusting that Aziraphale would not expose him. And then later he’s even more honest, admitting to Aziraphale he’s lonely in an attempt to show solidarity.

The entire Arrangement could not exist without them trusting each other. Crowley’s pushing at Aziraphale’s boundaries is a constant exercise in trusting that Aziraphale will come around eventually - or that he at the very least isn’t about to weaponize the treacherous things Crowley is saying against him. As early as 1601 we see Aziraphale voicing active concern for Crowley's well being. We then see Crowley actively trust Aziraphale with both their safeties in 1941 - whether it’s trusting Azriaphale to save them from the bomb about to drop on them or trusting Aziraphale’s trust in him to not accidentally discorporate him during the bullet catch. They even explicitly talk about their mutual trust in this year during their shades of gray conversation.

During Armageddon Crowley shows up trusting that Aziraphale will help him fix this and once Aziraphale agrees never once seems to consider the idea that Aziraphale would hide anything from him (even when Aziraphale is actively doing so).

He also critically knows that Aziraphale tried to reach God and got himself discorporated as a consequence. And likely specifically knows that Aziraphale talked to the Metatron and came away from that conversation realizing that Heaven would not help him. It's worth noting whether Crowley knows this bit or not that in this conversation Aziraphale not only explicitly questions the Metatron's authority but also uses the conversation to extract information from the Metatron.

Aziraphale leaves this conversation with an active lie to the Metatron and attempts to call Crowley to tell him everything he knew. He then continually chooses Crowley over Heaven. They pick their own side and help stop the world from ending.

And then, all season, Aziraphale keeps proving that the trust Crowley has always had in him is well earned. Aziraphale, even more than Crowley himself, brings up ideas of 'us' and 'our side' and 'our car'.

Aziraphale openly talks negatively of Heaven. Not only does he agree with Crowley's disbelief that Heaven managed to stay in charge sending people like Muriel down, but he even goes a step further, implying that they perhaps never had control over earth in that way.

He also, most critically, immediately and without hesitation, tries to turn down the Metatron's offer to even have a conversation. Aziraphale, who has also just brought a group of archangels to order, reaffirms his lack of interest in Heaven right then and there in front of Crowley. Right when the Metatron has reaffirmed the threat of the Book of Life is out of play.

Crowley trusts Aziraphale. He always has. And more than ever lately Aziraphale has given him proof that he doesn't have to worry about where he allegiances lay.

But. It's also worth noting. I don't think Crowley is as chill as he maybe seems like he is. Yes, he's sprawled out and speaking casually here, but to some degree this is a bit of posturing. He's playing it cool and also not encroaching on the control Aziraphale has managed to wrangle on this situation. But he also doesn't just let them wander off either. As soon as they hit the door, Crowley is out of the chair and walking to the front of the shop to watch them leave through the window. He's keeping tabs as they walk away.

He then banishes Muriel and promptly starts to clean. Now I'm always a little wary to mix Book and Show canon, but I do think his cleaning of the bookshop (as well as him carrying around stacks of books while babysitting Jim) are manifestations of Book!Crowley's tendency to want to stress clean. He's keeping himself busy and gets done too quickly then promptly glances at his watch before throwing himself into the chair with a frustrated noise. He's anxious and stressed the entire time Aziraphale is out of his line of sight.

In other words, Crowley's not actually as calm as he's presenting himself to be. He's trying to take that nervous energy out in a way that doesn't conflict with giving Aziraphale agency. Because he trusts his angel. And that in part is why it hits him so hard when it all blows up in his face.

[torturedpoetemotions]

Stede Bonnet Deep Dive

(aka repository for all the fucks I refuse to give to all the terrible takes on this hellsite after season 2)

I decided to do a deep dive into Stede's character finally, because I keep seeing the absolute WORST takes about him since season two aired.

I'll preface this by saying I don't agree with the majority of the negative or critical takes I've seen about season 2. I don't think the harsh readings of Stede's character are based in a good faith or often even in a sensible reading of the source material. And I don't have the time or inclination to spend all my time refuting bad Stede takes on tumblr, so this one meta in explanation and defense of my goofy little guy will have to suffice.

This is not a carefully crafted piece of creative writing. This is basic five paragraph essay shit, but with way more paragraphs. Claim, supports, transition, repeat to conclusion. Don't say I didn't warn you!

First off, no, Stede is not the villain of this story.

Yes, that's a take someone actually put into my notifications with their full chest. By no definition of the word is Stede positioned as a villain in this story, and he isn't even a compelling case for an accidental villain. This show has done a wonderful job of setting down clear and specific criteria for what makes a character villainous or not in a fictional world operating on a very different moral and ethical framework from our own. And while you could maybe argue Stede would be a pretty bad guy by real world standards, to be this is a moot point. By that measure every character in the show is a pretty bad guy. It's a nearly useless metric.

Within the show, villains are people with privilege and power who use that power to harm others and refuse to change for the better. Stede begins the story with an immense amount of privilege and power and gives all which is in his power to give up at the end of season 1. He gains a different kind of power in season 2 and by the end of season 2, he's relinquished that as well. He rarely uses his power to hurt people, and never does he intentionally seek to hurt innocent people for no reason. That isn't to say no innocent people GET hurt. But he's never trying to hurt people unless they've hurt or threatened the people he cares about. He in fact uses the power he has to stand up for the people he loves, repeatedly.

From the very beginning, he uses his wealth and power to create a space where he, and by extension everyone on his crew, has the space to be themselves. In 1x05 he uses his class privilege and knowledge to punish the partygoers who denigrated Ed simply for not being "one of them." In 1x08 he uses his power as captain to stand up for Buttons against Jack's callous cruelty and remove him from the ship after Karl is killed.

In 2x03 he uses his relative familiarity with Zheng Yi Sao (second only to Olu in terms of members of his crew who have any such familiarity) to plead mercy for Ed's crew. In 2x05 he uses his position as Captain to convince the crew to give Ed a second chance, while also hearing and working to address and mitigate their concerns as much as possible. In 2x06 he takes the responsibility for rescuing his own crew from Ned Low, negotiates a peaceful resolution with his crew, and punishes only Ned as the admitted and obvious orchestrator of the attack and torture of his crew. In 2x07, he doesn't start picking fights to show how big and bad he is. The only two people he shows any violence toward at all are someone walking toward him with the stated intention to kill him and someone poaching a third of his crew right before his eyes.

These aren't the wanton abuses of power characteristic of a villain. These are the understandable actions of someone who feels a lot of attachment and responsibility for the people around him.

No, Stede is not a cruel person who likes hurting people.

Jesus fucking Christ. Like I get that we all have our favorites, but I swear to god some of y'all think that means that you need to turn every other character into pure evil just to justify your character's existence. This isn't even remotely true.

Stede does NOT like hurting people. He hates hurting people, in fact, often even when they kind of deserve it. He really hates it when they obviously don't deserve it! Nothing he does in all of season one is motivated by a desire to harm other people. Yes, even piracy.

Stede enters the show with a very romanticized view of piracy. The violence isn't the point for him, the point is adventure and wanderlust, and possibly primarily, escape. Escape from the confines of a life he didn't ask for and has never wanted. Escape from a marriage he didn't choose and didn't want to be part of. Escape from the rigid strictures of a social structure that doesn't make room for people like him (whether we're talking about his queerness or his neurodivergence). The point is to create a space where he can be himself, and then extend that to others as well. If I wanted to get real sad, I'd say the point is the hope that by creating such a space, he will finally find people willing to tolerate him, or even be his friends.

He also doesn't leave Mary or his children to hurt them. He leaves them because Mary makes it clear they won't be going with him, and he knows he can't bear to stay. And he's riddled with guilt about it, it's not something he looks back on with pride or with glee.

And let's get real dark for a second and acknowledge: for a man in Stede's time and position, if he was actually a cruel person who enjoyed hurting people and he wanted to hurt his wife and children? There would be very little if anything to stop him from doing exactly that. If he wanted his children and his wife to live in fear of his cruelty, he could do that without consequences. But the one instance where he does something that does make Mary afraid--attacking Doug in 1x10--is something he does on instinct and immediately regrets, apologizes for, and feels awful about. He then goes a step further to continue making amends with both Doug and Mary for the rest of the episode.

And that's another thing: Stede's reaction to finding out he's hurt someone is to be upset by that, and then to try and rectify it immediately. When Lucius calls him out for not asking how he is, Stede immediately re-engages with him and starts looking after his well-being, encouraging him to talk about what's bothering him and not to shut out the people who love him. When Ed tells him how much Stede leaving without a word hurt him, Stede accepts that and tries to correct Ed's assumption that it's because he, Ed, wasn't enough or wasn't cared about. When Ed voices uncertainty and regrets about the pace of their relationship, Stede--though quite obviously hurt by what he thinks Ed is saying--immediately puts his focus on making Ed feel secure again, telling him this relationship can be whatever they want it to be.

Now, Stede gets a lot of flak for his reaction to Ed's fishing job news, but let's be real here: it IS incredibly random. It comes out of nowhere and genuinely makes not a lick of damn sense. And it's a wild thing to drop on someone you've been building a relationship with, a wild thing to have decided in a single afternoon before you've even talked to them about it. I'm not going to take Stede too harshly to task for not reacting perfectly seflessly there. It doesn't erase all the times when he DID react by immediately putting the other person's feelings in focus. And those aren't the actions of someone who enjoys hurting people and revels in cruelty to those around him.

Hell, Stede doesn't even revel in hurting people who've actually done something to warrant it, most of the time. Stede isn't excited or gloating about killing one of his childhood bullies in 1x01. He's horrified by what he's done. He wasn't even trying to kill him! He was going for the "stun move." He's so racked with guilt for it the entire season that he hallucinates the man berating him. He takes clear pleasure in manipulating the French partygoers and turning their own game against them, but he's still primarily motivated by making Ed feel better (and fine, that's his one time out of ten, I guess). He also takes no joy in Chauncy's death, in fact he's horrified and traumatized by it. The Badmintons are two people who tormented him throughout his childhood, but he shows an incredible amount of regret and guilt about both their deaths, especially considering Chauncy's really wasn't his fault in any possible way.

The final scene with Chauncy on its own would counter the idea that Stede likes hurting people! Stede is distraught by the thought that he hurts people, sobbing about it in fact. He doesn't leave Ed to hurt him! He leaves Ed because he thinks that is IS hurting him, and wants to stop.

Even Ned Low in 2x06 is not something Stede savors or revels in. Sure, he enjoys the fame it brings, later on. But he doesn't kill Ned in service of that, and he doesn't revel in killing Ned. He isn't smiling, gloating, or smug when he does it. He's deadly serious, and protective of the people he loves, in a pretty blatant mirror of his confrontation with Jack in 1x08. And even once it's done, he doesn't derive satisfaction from it. He's blatantly and obviously distraught by it, flashing back to one of his most traumatic childhood memories. It's the rest of the crew that cheer when he pushes Ned overboard. Stede is silent except for excusing himself to go to his quarters. When he pulls Ed into the room a few minutes later, there are tears in his eyes and his expression is well...agonized, frankly.

Stede's also quick to forgive even pretty serious transgressions against himself, like Ed plotting to burn his face off in 1x06 or Izzy selling him out to the navy in 1x09 (yes, there was a time gap there, but Stede began acting friendlier toward Izzy and showing concern for him basically as soon as he realized Ed wasn't actually dead). That's not the behavior of someone cruel who enjoys hurting people, either.

Yeah, Stede revels in piracy and doesn't have big compunctions about hurting people who threaten him or hurt the people he loves. I'd say the latter, at least, is true for a lot of people even in real life. And as for the former, well. If we're going to say Stede is cruel for enjoying being a pirate, I think we'd have to throw a lot of other characters into the cruel pile, too. Like almost all of them.

Stede is not lacking in care for the members of his crew.

I've already written an entire meta on this, so I'll just link that here and reiterate that if this were true, at minimum, Jim, Frenchie, Izzy, Fang, and Archie would all be dead.

So he's not a villain, or cruel on purpose, or careless.

So who is Stede Bonnet, actually?

Stede at his worst is somewhat thoughtless and oblivious. We see this throughout both seasons, but it's far more prominent in season one. Stede at his best is generous and gracious and forgiving and kind. Stede when provoked acts to protect himself and those he loves without hesitation or pulling any punches, as already referenced several times in this meta.

Stede is, textually, canonically, a gay man forced into marriage with someone he couldn't love who also couldn't love him. Stede is a survivor of a childhood filled with emotional abuse at the hands of his father and physical abuse at the hands of his peers. He does not know how to reach out to people, both because nobody ever reached out to him and because any attempts at all that he did make were met with the kind of shit we saw from Nigel, Chauncey, and his father.

But Stede wants, so very much and so obviously, to have people to be kind to and generous and loving with. Look at how eagerly and excitedly he opens up to Ed, when he sees Ed meeting him with interest instead of mockery or scorn in 1x04. Look how readily he shares his things with Ed and with the crew throughout season 1. In fact he voluntarily left an economic system where it was acceptable for him to hoard wealth for himself, and entered into a system where it was expected for him to share any and all spoils among his crewmates. He loves to share things with people! He loves to try new things with them and show them new things. He's so eager to have any kind of friend.

Stede also begins learning almost immediately how to reach out to people, once he has an environment where he feels secure doing it. And he loves doing it! He'll even do things he doesn't like to make someone else happy, like take Ed to a party he really, really wants to go to even though Stede knows it will be awful (1x05).

He is quick to take feedback and course correct when someone points out to him that he's been hurtful to them or wronged them, like with Lucius in 2x02. Arguably this would also apply to Izzy egging him on to do the fuckery in 1x06. Izzy appealed to his sense of obligation ("I stuck my neck out for you") and his affection for Ed ("he adores you") and it worked! It worked because Stede cares about other people, about their feelings and their needs and wants, and what they think of him. He cares so, so much.

He has flaws, too, of course. As stated, he can be thoughtless and oblivious. He's new to having friends, and new to love, and he makes a lot of mistakes. But he also corrects those mistakes, once he realizes them or they're pointed out to him. And it rarely takes much urging. If anything, Stede's more stubborn when he knows he's right in a situation, but even when he's technically right, he ultimately prioritize other people's feelings (as with the probably-not-actually-cursed suit in 2x05).

He's a goof. And he loves beautiful things. But he's not the entitled, lazy shit his father accuses him of being. He doesn't have a lot of physical or combat skills, but he can learn those skills simply by doing it enough. We see this in season one with how he gets better at getting on and off the ship over time. He's also great at putting a positive spin or an optimistic face on difficult things. We see this with how he treats the patrons who come into Jackie's in 2x01, and also with how he approaches challenges throughout the season. He's someone who, nine times out of ten, looks on the bright side and tries to problem solve, rather than despairing.

He's much more skilled when it comes to coming up with and executing plans, even on the fly...something we see throughout the show. First with getting into piracy in the first place. Then with his first defeat of Izzy in 1x03. Then there's the quickly thought up and delightfully executed revenge on the French partygoers in 1x05, the quite ridiculous but ultimately successful fuckery in 1x06. The fuckery to fake his death in 1x10!

This characterization carries over into season 2, with Stede's nearly successful execution of a robbery at Jackie's in 2x01. In fact that likely would have gone off without a hitch if it hadn't been for Ricky's nonsense, and ultimately did put Stede and his crew in a much better position than they were before regardless. Then in 2x03, he planned the escape of his and Ed's crews and it went off beautifully!

He came up with the plan to escape Ned Low and his crew in 2x06 literally second to second, improvising on the fly as the situation developed until he and his crew were safe again. He successfully got the drop on the two British soldiers in 2x08, he just couldn't actually fight two well-trained men on his own. And it was his plan, ultimately, that got his crew and ship out of an entirely besieged and surrounded Republic of Pirates.

(That plan did not go off without a hitch, to tragic results. But I don't think that overrides Stede's skills in this area. Many of his plans do not end perfectly, but they end remarkably well given the odds. And given the odds he was presented with, the numbers they were up against? One single casualty is wildly successful (even if I'm wailing and gnashing my teeth about it and will be unless and until David and Co. fix it in season 3).)

And finally--and this is the one single gripe I have with the season, that Stede and Ed both said this and seem to actually believe it--this man is not fucking whim-proned. Ed. Ed is fucking whim-proned. That's a pretty core element of his personality, actually. And it's not always a bad thing, and sometimes it's quite fun. But Stede? No. Stede isn't whim-proned. Stede is motivated. Stede is decisive. Stede is tunnel-visioned, perhaps. But he actually doesn't just change up his entire life on a whim. He makes a decision about what he wants, once he realizes he can actually do that, and then he fucking sticks to it like a mosquito in tree sap.

He decided he wanted to become a pirate, so he took the time, expense, and effort required to commission a ship, have it built, outfit it with supplies, and hire a crew. He realized he was in love with Ed and rowed a dinghy from Barbados to wherever the fuck (if you go with history it was Topsail Island, which is nearly three thousand fucking miles away), rejoined his crew, and set about working in a place he was miserable, trying to slowly save enough scraps of money to buy a ship to get back to his beloved. He wrote Ed letters, it's implied every day while they were at Jackie's. He had his goal, and he didn't stop working toward his goal until it was met and they were back together. And once they were back together, he didn't quit just because Ed didn't "melt back into his arms," and--*gesticulates wildly at all of season 2*.

Where Stede thinks he's whim-prone has less to do with caprice and more to do with trauma responses. Every single time we see him do something impulsive, it's as a response to something traumatic. Braining Nigel with the paperweight? Impulse in response to Nigel triggering memories of his childhood bullying. Running back home? Impulse in response to being dragged out of bed at gunpoint, having every single one of your deepest fears and insecurities thrown at you, and then watching the person throwing them basically prove them true by shooting himself in the face trying to kill you. Pulling Ed into his room? Impulse in response to the trauma of being invaded, tortured, watching Ed and all their friends be tortured, and thinking they were going to die (and yeah killing Ned too).

All of this to say...Stede has layers, y'all. He's got good and bad points. He's got strengths and many, many weaknesses. But he is in no way the one-dimensional mustache-twirling villain or bumbling total incompetent id-driven asshat people are trying to paint him as for whatever ridiculous reason.

[ruthlesslistener]

So, you get asked about PK and WL a lot, in part because you're realistic about them being nuanced. I've rarely ever seen folks ask you about the Radiance, though, even you've mentioned you give her the same treatment. So, you got any headcanons, heartcanons, and gutcanons for her? Feel free to do as many as you want!

Okay so I long forgot the headcanon, heartcanon, gutcanon ask template because I've been chewing on this since [checks date] September 5th 2020, so instead you get a long ramble on the Radiance vs individual hcs for her since I don't really talk about her as much as I do the pale fam

Radiance...hm. She's a very complex character who frightens me on some personal levels, but I really am quite fond of her reguardless, because part of what scares me about her is how closely her anger mirrors my own (and that of my immidiate family). She reminds me very much of the aspects of myself and a few choice individuals in my blood relations that I do my best to avoid, rather than have a delight of a time pointing and laughing at, like I do with the flaws of myself I see in the Pale King. Except Radiance doesn't just have those flaws, she's also got the added Christian crusader imagery that decrees the death of anyone who opposes her that also reminds me quite a bit about certain things in my life I'd very much rather go without (I was raised Muslim. I'm sure you can connect the dots). So there is a level of discomfort there that keeps me from engaging with her character on the same level that I do with Hollow and the Pale King, which is something that I am sure many Radiance fans feel in turn about PK himself. No judgement there.

But that's personal, so I'm not going to get into it. Just putting a note of it here because it does very much influence how I write her.

The Radiance is someone who is, at her core, very very lonely, and is also fundamentally afraid of being lonely. She is Grimm's twin in my headcanon (or, as much as one can be a twin when you were both divinely spawned from the same event), but Grimm is also her opposite, and so he never really did much other than highlight how deeply different she was from the only ever person that she knew. They were spawned in a place outside of Hallownest, in the creation of the Dream Realm where there was nothing around them but other hungry Higher Beings grasping for power, and that in turn did little other than prove to her that the whole world was against her and that the only way that she could persist was to eliminate all threats to herself before they had a chance to attack her first (Grimm, on the other hand, was fascinated by death and the play of power among power-hungry gods, and was much more inclined to observe until they clearly became a threat to him, ao that he could learn from them first. This difference is something that lead to the schism between the realms).

She is an extremely emotional person, acting on raw passion before all else- but that's because being rawly emotional never let her down in the past. How could it, when her fury burned with the force of a thousand stars, and incinerated all that dared threaten her? And how could she be anything but furious, when she had nothing but proof that the whole world conspired against her, and it was her burning rage that beat back the darkness of the cold, unfeeling Void, the one thing that could destroy her and her sibling? She was not always angry- more often than not, she was lonely, wanting nothing more than something to care for and protect- but anger served her well and so it became her first line of defense against anything that threatened her, and she was always right because nothing bad had ever come of her in the past.

(This is because she killed most things that she feared before they had a chance to move against her. The utter destruction of the Void Civilization was one such occurrence, happening after she had settled in Hallownest, created the moths, and deemed those who worshiped the dark below as a threat to both her and her newborn children.) I also believe that the Moths were created just before or right after the schism between her and Grimm, her barely-younger brother; because if he would not listen to her and allow her to care for him and be her family, then she would simply make one of her own, a family that she could dote on and adore and had no choice but to love her. And while she very much drove that schism, it was still a betrayal that stung her to the very core. He was her brother! He was supposed to agree with her, to love her and listen to her! She only ever tried to protect him, so what does it mean for him to defy her? That he doesn't actually love her after all, and that if she truly desires a family of her own, she must make it herself. One that will actually love her. One that will not defy her.

So, to recap: the Radiance is a fundamentally lonely person. But she is also fundamentally a very, very fearful person, to the point of overwhelming paranoia. And she grew up in an environment where this paranoia was not only unchecked, but encouraged.

This is what lead to her overcontrolling nature- because when she was able to control everything, she was able to see all of the problems before they became too hard to control, and thus eliminate them from the very start. I headcanon that the bugs of Hallownest had no free will under her control, but it wasn't the same as the malicious infection that we see in-game; it was genuinely because she cared, to the point where she had to look through a thousand eyes and ten thousand minds in order to nurture her kingdom the way she thought was best. She didn't kill all of the Void Civilization- the beetles persisted, as we saw- but she had to control them anyways, to wipe their minds of what she did and to prevent dissent. The Moths had a level of freedom that the others did not, but this was only because she created them and placed them first before all other bugs, and so thought that they would never have a reason to dissent against her. Why care for freedom when you can have security, after all? She never once in a million years thought that they would betray her for the Pale King, because she never once in a million years ever thought that anyone could ever want something like freedom in exchange for an uncertain, self-made future. It's too risky, too dangerous. Too lonely.

(This is also why I headcanon that the moth civilization collapsed after they abandoned Radi- they had been coddled for so long that they had no notion of independence, and thus could not survive on their own in a civilization that made itself with free will. This absolutely does not excuse PK of potentially being involved in their downfall, because I do think he played a huge part in it, but it does account for their diminishing numbers without any indication of physical genocide. I've seen some think that they were hit the first and the hardest by the Infection but I don't believe that Radi, even with her vengeful qualities, would have done that-or if she did, then Seer made no mention of it, likely because of her tribe's guilt about bringing back the Radiance even if it isn't their fault.)

(Part of this headcanon also ties into another hc I have about Radi, which was that she was very involved in her rule and would answer to almost every prayer- including ones that involved illness or injury. If you prayed for the sickness to go away, then she would answer the call and abolish it. The Moths got first treatment, because they as her children knew exactly how to call her, but this also meant that when they switched to PK's rule where he advocated for independence and self-sufficiency based on problem solving, they suffered far more than the others who had to reply on learning their own medical care when Radi was too busy to hear their prayers)

That's not to say that Radiance was a bad ruler by any means, but we do know that she and PK are opposites, and we have records of how distant he was from his civilization, which indicates that Radiance was deeply involved by contrast- likely suffocatingly so. That's part of why I love to play with her and Grimm being siblings, to be honest, because he acts as a sort of neutral zone between the Pale King's style of ruling (by almost zero personal involvement) compared to the Radiance's obsessive control- he holds power over those under his command, but he also relinquishes that power when they fight back, and makes the break from the trope relatively stressless by wiping their memories and leaving them with a defensive charm (if Carefree Melody is any indicator). Likely this is because Grimm is a scavenger-god who has seen how many a kingdom has fallen to ruin, but I can also imagine how an exposure to the Radiance would have encouraged him to give his people more freedom of will while also continuing to engage with them at all, which the Pale King didn't do. But that's a Grimm tangent right there- the point is that I do believe the Radiance did everything out of a love for her people.

The problem is just that emotions are her fatal flaw, and when they don't suffocate, they burn. We know that she isn't just pure emotion made manifest- she's an insidious manipulator, and quite skilled at it, too. She didn't win over the Traitor Lord or break the minds of the bugs of Hallownest through sheer force alone (though I'm sure she had to in some cases...like the Hollow Knight). But everytime she makes a bad decision, it's because her emotions got the best of her. She is the inverse to the Pale King, whose fatal flaw was that his logic blinded him to the emotions he felt towards his children, and to realizing the Vessel Plan was doomed until it is far too late. She got herself to where she was by blazing forth in a fit of fury, and turning the hurricane of her betrayal into a punishment that the entirety of Hallownest got caught up in, whether they were innocent or not. She wormed her way into the minds of those who listened to her and brutally slaughtered the rest. She might have had some justification at first, when she was clawing desperately out of the dark of near-death, but that justification was snuffed out quick. Her anger is brutal, grotesque, vengeful, and all-encompassing. She hates you, the player character, Little Ghost, for what you represent and who you are, and she hunts you relentlessly, using the corpses of the friends and siblings she's killed to try to murder you. But it's not just self-defense: it's hatred. When Ghost challenges her in the Dream Realm, she didn't have to answer, but she did. Because she is fury incarnate, and she will not suffer the mockery of the void-tainted scion of her enemy.

She might have been a benevolent goddess once, but no longer. She's beautiful and majestic. She's also a genocidal monster. Her actions have justification, for they were self-defense and retribution for her betrayal- until she began to destroy the lives of innocents in her hunger for power. She's a complex character, a sympathetic one even, and is even more terrible for it.

So yeah, she scares me, even though I love her. But can you really blame me?

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Reflections

Chapter Seven

Master List / Real People Master List / Reflections Master List

Pairing: Mia MacAlsdair x Au Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, mentions of suicide and self-harm, 18+ Minors do not interact

A/N: I apologize in advance should my Scottish/English interpretations be incorrect. I am Canadian playing in a world of my own making. Do not @ me.

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~

In a borrowed coat and boots, Mia walked the grounds with Tom. He listened as she talked, asked intelligent and insightful questions, and occasionally interjected with facts about his home.

"So you have an altar for him?"

Mia nodded. "I do. Not just him, though he features. Freya is there, Thor, Odin, Fenrir and Jörmungandr. They're the ones who niggle at me most often."

"Can I see it?"

"No," Mia chuckled.

"Please!"

She shook her head. "One, it's in my bedroom, and two, an altar is very personal. I might be inclined to share it with you someday, but I don't know you well enough right now."

He sighed but nodded. "I understand the hesitation. May I ask what's on it?"

"Candles, crystals, some pretty feathers I found while walking. Loki likes candy, so there's often a bowl with something sweet and a few fun trinkets, again for Loki. Recently, I found a beautifully carved raven that seems to please Odin. Freya likes flowers." She shrugged. "I go where I feel led."

"The way you speak of them…."

She sighed. "It's fine. You wouldn't be the first to call me crazy."

He grasped her elbow, causing her to stop and look at him. "I don't think you're crazy, Camila."

She blinked at him in surprise. "How do you know my full name?"

He tucked his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. "I may have checked out your website. You list yourself as Camila online."

"Yeah, Camila Alasdair. It's my artisan name to help me avoid creepers. Not that I'm anywhere well-known enough to have creepers." She chuckled. "The only person who ever called me Camila was my dad." She smiled at the memory. 

"It suits you," Tom murmured. "Camila, the firebrand with the copper penny hair and temper to match."

Mia shook her head. "I don't have a temper. You were an ass."

"Ah, that isn't what I heard. Did you not also threaten Benedict Campbell?"

She crossed her arms. "Again, a perfect example of assery."

Tom chuckled. "I think you Canadians have cultivated this persona of politeness, but it is complete rubbish."

"Don't test me, Hiddleston. You're stomping on the Geneva Accords again." 

He snickered and grasped her hand. "And we wouldn't want that, would we love? I'd hate to get on your God's bad side. I know what trouble he can bring."

"And he's already annoyed about the hair," she quipped, attempting to ignore how his thumb pressed and caressed her palm. 

"You said that before. What was wrong with my hair?"

"It wasn't red."

"How do you know it should be red?"

She bit her lip, studying him hard. She already spilled much about her private life to this man, but no matter Henry's warning, she felt a pull toward Tom that had nothing to do with liking his acting and everything to do with liking the man. 

"No one knows what I'm about to tell you, and I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way."

His smile slipped into seriousness as he closed the distance between them. "You have my promise, Camila."

She sighed. "When I was thirteen, I met him."

His eyes widened. "What? Like actually met him?"

The disbelief was palpable, and Mia stepped back, causing him to release her hand, creating distance to protect herself from the skepticism to follow. "Yeah. I was in the worst of my foster homes, where the dad drank and screamed. There were five of us, four boys and me. Two were terrible, always pinching me and pulling my hair, making fun of my freckles and anything else they could poke at. The oldest one was indifferent, and the youngest didn't care. I learned to defend myself and fight dirty in that home. I had to, but it was a hard time. Really hard. I was thirteen, my body was changing on top of everything else, and I hated it. I hated life. I hated living. I hated foster care." 

She hugged her elbows and turned to face the town, the view from the hill spectacular. "I was depressed and still grieving. No one thought to get me help, and after two years, I couldn't do it anymore."

"Camila." His hands were warm through her coat as they squeezed her shoulders. 

"I ran away," she whispered. "I found the highest bridge I could and climbed over the railing."

"Fuck, Mia," he murmured against her hair. 

"Then, out of nowhere, there was this… person crouched on the railing like a raven. "Girl, what are you doing?" he asked me. For the first few seconds, I couldn't tell if they were male or female. I didn't understand the shifting of their face until it stopped on these pretty masculine features, all angles and sharpness, almost too delicate to be male. His hair was long and red as blood, a sunset, a fall leaf. It was full of braids and twists and feathers, bits of gold and tiny bells. He crouched there with these piercing eyes like he could see my soul."

She stopped to wipe her cheeks, the tears coming unbidden. "Girl, what are you doing?' He sounded disappointed, shocked, and sad. I told him I was tired and couldn't keep going when everyone dragged me down. He talked to me, told me this wasn't the way, that there were other paths to follow, and when I took his offered hand, he helped me back over the railing."

It was why she always knew his touch. She could never forget it or his voice that day. 

"He kissed my forehead and walked with me as we headed back to that house. He told me he could help, that he understood and loved the parts of me others saw as weird or quirky. He said it would be hard, but I could make it if I had the heart to try."

"And so you tried at the behest of the God of Mischief?"

"Not at first." She smiled. "I didn't even know who he was for a while. Then, we had a class on Norse Mythology at school, and it clicked. I spent weeks in the library figuring it out. He's been around ever since."

You would miss me if I left, girl.

"And he still calls me girl. And yeah, I did think I was losing it for a while. I wondered if I had a tumour - I don't. I even considered that I was hallucinating because I was malnourished and sleep-deprived, but when both of those regulated, he remained. Like a tick, you can't scrape off."

Rude.

"Does he appreciate such remarks?" Tom chuckled. 

"He makes worse ones."

Lies.

"You do, too, and you know it," she huffed.

"He's speaking to you now?"

She turned to face Tom, eyes narrowed, wondering if he was humouring the crazy girl, but his genuine curiosity released the tension from her shoulders. "Yes."

"Can you see him?"

She shook her head. "Not since the bridge, but I can feel his presence and his touch. Sometimes, when he wants me to know I'm not alone, there will be a flash of red and a raven."

One quorked in the nearby tree before flying down to land in the grass and hop along beside them. 

"Like that," she chuckled. 

Tom stared at the raven. 

"Look, I get that you probably don't believe any of this, and that's fine. As I said, faith versus fiction is hard for people. Most people. My stuff is likely dry, so I'll just change and head home."

She tried to walk around him, but he pulled her back. 

"I do believe you."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes, and I'll be forever grateful he stopped a child from ending her life," he whispered hoarsely as he cupped her cheek. "So she could grow into an incredible woman. A very beautiful woman. A fascinating woman."

His voice dropped sentence by sentence into a deadly velvet-soft purr that shook her to the core.

"I'm… I'm not fascinating," Mia insisted without much effort behind it, her knees now weak.

"Oh, but you are, Camila. You are bewitching. I thought it the moment we met."

"You didn't even like me."

"I was under a misconception," he huffed. "An error that irritated me."

"Why?"

He moved closer. "Can you not guess, Camila? Can you not feel the pull between us?"

She nodded, her eyes drifting to his lips as he licked them. 

"Fuck it," he murmured. "I can be a gentleman later."

Again, Mia saw it coming, but when Tom ducked his head, she pressed up on her toes and met him in the middle. Her mind blanked as his mouth slid over hers, tilted, and locked. 

Mountains could tumble, stars could fall, and Gods could walk the Earth. Nothing would drag her from the lightning wick of excitement that coursed her veins and dropped her to drown in a sea of searing desire unlike any she'd ever known.

The intensity made her gasp and break the kiss, but they didn't pull apart. His nose brushed against hers as tingling lips came together in small, almost delicate kisses. 

Big and warm, his hand caressed and cupped her nape, keeping her near. He held her close, fingers splayed against her lower back, urging her into his body where she relished his heat. 

Mia worked her arms up his chest and around his neck, her knees threatening to buckle when he bit gently into her lower lip. 

When he finally drew back, it was only an inch, allowing her to see kiss-darkened lips and heavy-lidded eyes full of want.

She couldn't remember the last time someone looked at her like that or if Colt ever had.

"Camila MacAlasdair, where in the world did you come from?" he murmured, gently squeezing her nape. 

"Canada," she said, a little lust drunk. 

The man had power over parts of her she thought dried up and out of commission long ago. Now, they were awake, alive, and firing on all cylinders. She was embarrassingly wet. Add in her lack of underwear, and Mia was practically dripping down her leg from nothing more than a few devastating kisses.

He chuckled softly. "I suppose you did."

"So, that was unexpected," she said, rocking back on her heels. 

"But not unwelcome?" he asked.

She blushed and shook her head. 

"Mm," he hummed, eyes twinkling. 

Mia didn't know they could do that outside fiction. 

He stroked her hair, collected her hand, and led her to stroll toward a paddock fence. A couple of horses wandered over when they stopped at the railing. 

Mia pet their soft noses.

"Do you ride?"

She shook her head. "That's the second time someone asked me that today."

"Oh?"

"Henry, he said my grandmother rode. He offered to teach me."

Tom stiffened. "Henry Stewart?"

Mia nodded, watching the emotions sweep across his face.

He cleared his throat. "How do you know Henry?"

"He looks after the farm."

The wince was subtle but present. "And he is aware you are here?"

"Yes. I drove his truck."

Surprise widened his eyes. "And he let you come?"

Mia frowned. "Because he's my keeper and has a say?"

"No, of course not! But…" He struggled to find the words. 

Mia took pity on him. "He doesn't like you. I'm aware."

Tom cringed. "It's a bit more than that."

"Oh?"

He looked at her and sighed. She wasn't going to prod him into telling her. If he wanted to, he would. 

Tom rubbed a hand over his mouth, then scratched the chin of the horse when it nudged him. "Henry blames me for his sister's death."

~

Emma squealed and yanked on Kip's arm. "I knew it! Oh, she's perfect for him."

Kip chuckled as they spied from a third-story window as Tom showed Mia around the grounds. Emma had her nose stuck to the glass and attempted to break his ears with enthusiasm. 

"She's quite perfect for him. Sweet but unwilling to put up with his brooding," he agreed. 

Tom spent the last years with his chin tucked, full steam ahead, fighting and clawing to save what they nearly lost. Sometimes, it felt like he meant to prove the sacrifice of his career wasn't in vain.

Kip wished it hadn't happened. He knew how much Tom loved acting, but he wouldn't hear of it when Kip offered to step back and do the hard thing. Tom insisted it was his duty, his responsibility. He wouldn't pass the burden to someone else. 

That he sank nearly every quid he had into keeping Highpark afloat while they figured things out didn't go unnoticed. He never said anything, not one peep about basically going broke to keep the lights on, but it was a scant few years before and during the pandemic.

Now, they had breathing room and thriving businesses, and Kip was working more than ever. So much so that taking time for Serina and the baby was an easy choice to make. 

But once in a while, he could see the far-off look, the stare of longing, the memories surface and hold his brother hostage, as he looked at Kip's life and thought… what if?

Tom spent so much time with his head down that he stopped living. If he kept going, the resentment would kill him. 

Meeting Mia at the market was like a little miracle. She was funny, easy to talk to, and not impressed by fame. But oh, how her eyes lit up when she spoke of the other Loki. And not in the crazed superfan, murder you in your sleep and wear your skin as a trophy kind of way, but in the, I appreciate the effort you put into making the role something special way.

She didn't even cop to the name, making him doubly sure he wasn't introducing his brother to a nutter. 

Then the idiot went and nearly muffed it. 

The wanker.

"Oh… oh… oh!" Emma shrieked and slapped his arm repeatedly, dragging him from his musings. 

"Dammit, Em! Leave off-" He caught what she was on about and stared in disbelief. "Oh, that cheeky bastard! And he gave me shit for moving too fast with Serina."

They were locked in an embrace, too far away to know for sure, but if he weren't kissing Mia, Kip would be disappointed. 

Then, like something out of a damn period film, the sky broke just enough to bathe them in a shaft of sunlight. Mia's hair glowed like copper fire, Tom's like aged bronze.

As quickly as it came, it went, hidden behind the clouds that appeared less daunting than before.

"I have to tell Ethan!" Emma shrieked and dashed off, leaving Kip watching alone. 

They'd plotted to toss the pair together as often as possible for just this moment. That his brother made a move in barely hours impressed and surprised Kip. He didn't think Tom had it in him to steal a kiss so blatantly.

Their moment lingered for long heartbeats before they broke apart.

Kip couldn't help his smile. 

"Well done, Tom." 

It was about time he found his happily ever after.

When they walked off toward the paddocks, Kip left the room.

~

Mia stared at him, her face drained of colour, causing her freckles to stand out starkly against the cream and her ocean eyes to appear bigger. "He… what?"

Tom sighed. It was never an easy thing to talk about. "Back in the day, Henry and I were mates. Best mates. I spent as much time at his as he did mine, and Sarah, his sister, often tagged along. She was friends with Emma, as they were in the same year of school, but often wanted to chase after Hen and me." He patted the horse's cheek and pushed her face away when she tried to nibble on his shoulder. 

"Do you mind if we walk and talk?" he murmured, motioning down the fence line toward the barns. 

Surprisingly, Mia took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. That one point of contact slowed his racing heart and calmed his fear that she would run from him when she heard what he had to say. 

"At four years her senior, neither of us wanted to entertain his little sister. It was our last summer before college, and Sarah was especially clingy. She was taking Henry's leaving hard, but the minor infatuation I had ignored for some time escalated that summer." 

She left him notes, snuck into his room, and showed up at parties she knew he would be at, causing him or Henry to have to take her home. 

"She was fourteen to my eighteen, and while four years now may not seem that big of a deal…."

"It was a really big deal when you were dealing with a girl trying to be a woman," Mia murmured. 

"Yes," he sighed, relieved she understood. "The night before I was set to leave for school, she showed up here, in my room, in my bed."

"Oh, wow," Mia whispered. 

"It made me sick, a little mad, and desperately frustrated. The implications and the gravity of the situation were not lost on me. Luckily, I was with Emma and Kip, so they knew I had nothing to do with her appearance." Even now, the thought of what could have happened, the accusations that could have followed, broke him into a cold sweat. "I sent Emma in to get her out of my bed and dressed and Kip off to get Mum and Dad because enough was enough. She damn near invented a scandal with me at the centre."

They left the grass to crunch into the gravel drive that led to the barns. "How mortified was she?"

"Very," he sighed. "And Emma has never been known to hold back. I don't know what she said, but they weren't friends afterward." 

"Emma would have wanted to protect you," Mia murmured, tightening her grip. 

"Unnecessary but appreciated. When Kip returned, I found out Mum and Dad had gone out, leaving three teenagers to handle the mess alone." He thrust his free hand through his hair, remembering with a clarity clearer than glass. "So we marched her into the parlour, where, with Kip and Emma as witnesses, I told Sarah that I didn't like her that way. She was Henry's sister, would always be Henry's sister, and I would never see her as a woman."

“Ouch,” Mia murmured. 

"I admit, I could have handled it better, been nicer about it, but I was leaving for college. I thought four years without me around would cure her of her obsession. Had I known, fuck, I don't know…."

Mia drew him to a stop just inside the shade of the cool, musty barn. "Tom, so far, I don't think you did anything wrong. I think you're fortunate that so much of it went right. If Kip and Emma hadn't been there…" She shook her head. "She was a girl with a crush and a dangerous infatuation. I don't know if nicer would have been better or encouraged her to try harder."

He nodded. "Such were my thoughts." 

"So what happened? Henry mentioned Sarah died at sixteen. If you were away at college, how are you responsible?"

He closed his eyes against the sick feeling rising in his stomach. "I was home for the holiday, Christmas. Highpark always hosts a party, and that year was no different. Henry and I kept in touch, but we drifted. Going to different colleges, school work, and life made it hard to keep up our friendship, but he was there, and so was Sarah. We never told anyone what happened; Emma and Kip ensured she got home safe, but not even our parents knew what she'd done. But that night, she was dressed to the nines, flirted with everyone and pretended like I didn't exist. I was relieved."

"Clearly, she was planning something."

He snorted and shook his head. "Clearly, you are smarter than me. I didn't suspect a thing."

"I'm suspicious by nature," Mia shrugged. 

"If only I were the same, I wouldn't have gotten pissed. I would have noticed when she disappeared toward the end of the party. I would have checked before I walked into my room and turned on the light only to find her naked on my sheets… with a fully pissed Henry on my heels."

Mia's eyes widened into round orbs. "Oh, shit!"

"Yes, well, as you can imagine, it went about that well. Henry raged and took a swing at me; I took one at him. Sarah screamed and cried, racing to get her clothes on as we beat on each other. When she finally managed to make us stop, I…" He swallowed thickly past the bile. "I said, "I told you the last time you pulled this stunt, I wasn't interested in fucking a child." She paled to a ghostly white and ran off. Henry cursed me out and went after her."

Tom attempted to release Mia's hand, but her grip tightened, and her free one lifted to rest against his chest. "Tell me."

He swallowed hard. "I chose to wash my hands of it. Sarah could explain to Henry whatever she wanted. I was done. The next morning, he found her dead. She'd overdosed on sleeping pills."

Mia's jaw dropped. 

"Henry blames me. I went to him, tried to apologize, tried to explain what happened, but he wouldn't hear it. Sarah was troubled, he said. If I hadn't been so brutal, maybe she wouldn't have-" 

Soft fingers pressed against his lips. 

"You are not at fault for the decision she made. When a person decides…" Tears caused her eyes to sparkle. "When they make up their mind, not much will stop them."

He cupped her cheek, heart aching for her. "You stopped."

She leaned into his hand. "I had an intervention. I'm sorry the same didn't happen for Sarah."

"As am I. Over the years, Henry's hatred of me has grown. Now, we avoid each other as much as possible."

"The town isn't that big. You're going to have to come to terms with this eventually."

Tom shook his head. "I've tried. He damn near takes my head off each time."

"Then what you need is a peacekeeper." She smirked. "Oh, would you look at that? A Canadian. How fortunate."

Tom chuckled. "I still think it's all poppycock. A reputation built on fabrication."

Mia rolled her eyes. 

"You do that a lot," he murmured. Every time, he wanted to back her into the wall or spank her bottom pink.

"You annoy me a lot," she quipped. 

He leaned closer. "I think you enjoy it."

"Maybe." Mia snickered, heading into the barn where a few faces watched them over stall doors. 

"Welcome to the stud," Tom purred against her ear, his hand spanning her waist. 

The woman had an ass on her that would make a pleasing handful and thighs he longed to grip, but she had a tucked-in waist and generous breasts, and he tried hard not to think about how she had nothing on under his clothes.

"Why does that feel like a line?"

He chuckled. "Unintentional, but would it work?"

Mia snorted. "No."

He laughed, and the sound echoed, causing a few people working in the barn to stop and stare. Tom ignored them as he introduced her to each stallion waiting for his attention. 

"These five are our top producers."

Mia stroked the white spot on the end of Mystic's nose. "Producer of what?"

"Foals, love. They are our prize breeders. Once, they were tops in their fields." He turned and pointed at each. "Jumper. Steeples. Polo. Racer and this old man," he patted the cheek of the black whose nose she stroked, "ran like the wind in his day. They are all proven sires whose offspring have gone on to be just as talented as they are."

"So you just breed them? You don't raise racing stock too?"

"Ah, that would be the other barn. We have a few prospects we breed or purchase ourselves yearly, but the stud is where the money is. Ethan, Emma's husband, does the training and travels for the races or shows when needed, and while I'm fit to ride and give the old men their exercise, I leave the pairings to the farm's breeding manager."

"Did your family always raise horses?"

"Back down the roots of the family tree." He chuckled. "We weren't always Lords of Highpark, but horses are in the blood, though we shifted away from racehorses into a wider range. I was a polo man myself in my younger years."

"And you still ride every day."

He looked at her sharply. "And how would you know that?" 

She glanced at him, a slight blush in her cheeks. "I see you when I walk the fields most mornings."

"Do you? And do you enjoy watching me ride?" 

She nodded, and he could tell she held a firm appreciation for him on the back of his horse. It was a nice stroke to his ego.

They made their way out the far side of the barn, where he crowded her against the wall, bracing his hands to either side of her. "Perhaps tomorrow I will ride down to the fence so you may see everything closer."

"That…" Her voice caught. "That would be nice."

His grin spread, wicked and wide, as he leaned in. "Maybe you would like to ride with me?"

"I don't know how yet."

"That won't be a problem," he murmured, his heavy-lidded gaze back on her mouth before his lips slowly brushed across hers. 

"Tom," she sighed, slipping her hands inside his open jacket. 

"Sweet, surprising, Camila," he purred, cupping her nape and tilting her head up. 

His lips brushed and retreated. Brushed and pulled her bottom lip. Brushed and teased until she whimpered, body erupting in shivers. His nose caressed hers. She breathed in his exhale. Their mouths met, and she moaned.  

Potent wasn't the right word for Camila. Explosive. Dangerous. Devastating. Those were closer to how easy it would be for him to fall into something with her. He could only imagine how the rest would go if kissing her was this good. 

He kissed her until she was breathless and panting, then traced his lips down her throat to suck where his jumper gaped between her shoulder and neck. The quiet groan she released had him slipping his knee between her thighs and pressing more of his weight into her welcoming body. 

"Would you have dinner with me?" he asked, tugging her earlobe with his teeth. 

"I would. When?"

"Tomorrow. I would say tonight, but I have an obligation I cannot escape," he murmured before sucking on her neck again.

"Tomorrow is good," she agreed, running her hands up his back. 

"Excellent," he crooned, returning to her mouth to kiss her because he couldn't get enough of how she tasted. 

A drizzle began to fall, dampening only a little of the heat they created, but it was enough for Tom to lift his head. "I should return you to my sister. I seem to have monopolized your time."

Mia laughed. "I don't think she'll mind."

"Why's that, love?" he frowned. 

"Well, she's spent the last two weeks texting me about how great her brother is, and she wasn't talking about Kip. They think they're so tricky, but I know they intended to set us up."

Tom cursed softly but inventively and shook his head. "And I nearly muffed it up. No wonder Kip looked seconds away from beating my arse."

"At the time, it was an arse worth beating," Mia teased. 

He snorted and stepped back, pulling her from the wall to tuck her under his arm as they headed for the house. "I was a complete prat, but I've never been so thoroughly jealous of Kip in my life."

"Not even when he took over as Loki?"

He looked down at her. She couldn't possibly know losing her to Kip - had that been a possibility - would have hurt far more than losing Loki. 

He slowly shook his head. "Not even then."

Mia blushed and tightened her grip on his waist. 

Unable to stand it any longer, he asked, "Do you still regret meeting your hero?"

"Oh, Gods!" she cringed. "I can't believe I said that to you."

As they crossed the lawn, he whispered in her ear, "Would you like to explain how, in all the realms, I'm your hero?"

Her face burned scarlet, but she murmured, "You did him justice. You took the role and very clearly put thought, research, and effort into it. There was passion in your performance, and while I wasn't familiar with the comics then, I could tell you researched the source material. The guy who played Thor was decent, but if he ever read a passage of the Eddas, you could have fooled me."

Tom stopped, drawing her to a stop with him in the grey mist that added tiny droplets to her hair like individual crystals. "You could tell that from my performance? And this makes me your hero?"

She shook her head. "It's difficult to explain. What I am, who I am, being Lokean is part of my identity. By then, I'd practiced for years, hearing him, following him, and, yes, loving him. I had also put up with ridicule and discrimination for just as long. When I found out about and then watched Thor, seeing someone else care that much?" She shook her head. "You don't know what that was like for me. Did I think you were Lokean? No, but you cared enough about Loki, about doing him justice as a character to go above and beyond what was asked of you."

Heat warmed his cheeks. "Camila, I'm… I'm honoured."

She tilted her head. "I was so disappointed when you weren't in Ragnarok, but then I didn't enjoy that movie. I felt it made a mockery of the growth and effort put into the other films. I stopped watching after that, and I never was much of a movie watcher before Thor."

 "Which is why you didn't know who Kip was."

"Yeah. And I've never been great with names, so yours just slipped my mind until Emma explained who you were." She shrugged. 

"Yes." He sighed. "I faded swiftly and thoroughly from the limelight and everyone's memories."

"Maybe," Mia murmured. "But today, Loki isn't why I think you're a hero."

He frowned. "Oh?"

She shook her head and hesitantly brushed her fingers over his cheek before combing the water droplets from his hair. "No. What you did to save your home and your family is far more heroic than anything you might have done on screen. I know it's not my place, and my opinion isn't likely to matter, but… I'm really proud of you, Tom."

"Camila," he whispered, voice thick and hoarse with emotion. Her opinion suddenly mattered most of all.

She smiled, pressed up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "We should head in."

He cleared his throat and nodded before tucking her back under his arm and leading her to the house.

Next Chapter

[saints-who-never-existed]

Episode Eight: Random Rewatch Observations

1. I don’t think it’s ever really 100% certain is it, how deliberate Hodgson’s actions are at the beginning of this episode or how closely in cahoots he might already be with Hickey? I notice right after they all leave the tent that the first person he seems to go to is Le Vesconte though, so I have to wonder if he is just looking for comfort and advice or if he’s peddling the same scaremongering story he does later to Little…?

2. I also wonder if Hickey mispronouncing the word ‘Netsilik’ is deliberate too? Like, is it just a random slip of the tongue or could it be saying more about how Hickey’s just bullshitting his way along while still not really knowing what he’s talking about?

3. He also pointedly doesn’t refer to Jopson as Lieutenant, disrespectful little knobhead…

4. Speaking of disrespectful knobheads, I’ll still never get over how horribly Crozier treats Little in this episode, threatening him with a flogging just for asking a simple question! The fact of the matter is that at that stage, no one but Hickey has any real idea of what’s actually happened, not even Crozier himself. He can’t possibly know for sure until he goes to see the whole sorry scene for himself and in the meantime, bolstering the perimeter is a perfectly reasonable plan.

Surely it would be better to give a timely, controlled order to strengthen that perimeter with your most trustworthy guys in order to make the rest of the men feel calmer, more secure, and less inclined to go off the rails, than to leave the whole camp in panic and confusion, not knowing what the hell is happening, and so jumping at the chance to feel like they’re doing something about it all?

That’s what it’s all about really – timing! Yes, it is a mistake for Little to give the order to arm the men when he does but it’s only a mistake because by that time they’re all too riled up to give up their arms or listen to reason. Again, if they had armed some trustworthy men in a calm and controlled way back when Little first suggested it, if Crozier has only bloody listened to him, then I firmly believe the situation could have been improved massively.  

5. That’s not a comforting arm-pat Blanky gives Little, btw, that’s actually a full-on tit-grab and I am here for it.

6. Oh God you can see how fucked Fitzjames is already in that tent and how he just about manages to hide it until he’s alone. As soon as Little passes him you can see him finally allow himself a grimace of pain when he knows no one can see.

7. Just noticed the neat little detail of a pair of crutches hanging from a beam in the medical tent – shows again the importance of efficiency and preparedness and using ever available inch of space.

8. Oh fuck, the wee Netsilik girl has Irving’s telescope/spyglass right by her side! Can’t you just imagine her having a whale of a time with it right before all the horror kicked off? Gut-wrenching!

9. Also, cannot emphasise enough that Irving would’ve been their friend. Like, none of them are really in their right minds at this stage but those like Little and Hodgson who would have been closest to him would of course be feeling the loss most, and you can see how it influences their decision-making.

Just imagine if your own best friend and co-worker was brutally murdered one day and not only did you have to carry on with your day and carry on working, but you were also berated publicly by your shitty boss then forced to watch as your pal’s already-defiled body was dissected further right in front of you. You’d be a mess too!

10. “Choose men we can trust…” – Aye, you could have done that a few hours ago, Franky-boy, and potentially avoided a whole mess of bullshit!

11. Oh God don’t put De Voeux in charge of anything!

12. Shout out to the Triumvirate of Toms! Jopson taking charge straight away and getting shit done like the brilliant Lieutenant he is. Blanky outrunning Tuunbaq on a wooden leg and continuing not to give a single fuck. And Hartnell, once again ready to step up and help, to defend his mates without a single second thought, even if he has to face down a charging Tuunbaq to do it. Big fan of that little concentrating blinky face he does too – top notch stuff.

13. Good Christ Fitzjames with the rockets is just incredible. That look on his face! The focus and fury and determination in that little snarl! Outstanding! And it also strikes me that this is a perfect instance of him doing an amazing thing without the intention of being seen. He’s invisible in the fog, just like everyone else, and he’s still going all out doing what needs to be done. We know it’s not just vanity with him, that he’s a genuinely good and heroic man, even if he doesn’t realise it himself, but we see more clearly than ever that that’s really not what it’s about here specifically. There just can’t be any vanity in the face of something like Tuunbaq.

14. Pretty sure that’s a diving helmet patch on Collin’s jumper right before Tuunbaq gets him which is just a whole other level of heart-breaking. I wonder if he sewed it on there himself back when he was still excited about being a pilgrim to the deeps…

[bogbees]

I've never seen anyone talk about Iruka's back scar and how Kakashi would react to it. like he probably wouldn't give much of a fuck until he heard how he got it

6:13 PM · Sep 28, 2019

like, he's all like "damn Iruka that's a gnarly scar" and Iruka smiles all sunshine and rainbows "oh yeah it's from when Naruto passed the exam!" and Kakashi just stares at him

like I'd imagine at this point Kakashi has developed some sort of positive romantically inclined feelings

so his brain is like, slow booting up the facts - I was the anbu in charge of the team looking for Naruto - Iruka found him first - Iruka's best friend had almost killed him - Naruto and Iruka had emotions - Naruto saved Iruka

and for a bit he's like "oh man if I had just been doing my job Iruka wouldn't have gotten hurt like this"

goes a bit crazy over how close he was to loosing Iruka before he even knew him and got to experience everything with Naruto and Iruka

he's like "god help me I know ab loss and that everyone you love dies holy fuck" "but Iruka is a teacher who hasn't seen combat in years!! he by rights shouldn't be in life threatening situations"

and then Iruka tells him ab how he and some random kid almost died that day at school bc of some poorly executed ninja magic and pointy objects

Kakashi looses his mind, starts laughing his ass off

Iruka laughs along bc ?? ok weirdo it wasn't that funny but ok. Naruto is so annoyed. ichiraku ramen stand dude is like, pshyic and had a feeling Kakashi was worked up over something involving Iruka is so relieved to see him getting over it

at some point Kakashi is like, still crazy ab loosing Iruka so he like keeps doing shit for Iruka so he wouldn't be in harm's way and Iruka is getting annoyed

so Iruka is like "dude I can do this myself thanks please fuck off" and Kakashi. reacts by not reacting?? he goes still and you can tell there's some shit otg

and so Kakashi fucks off. he fucks off real good. he doesn't talk to Naruto or Iruka for like a whole week, and would have gone on for several more if Iruka hadn't gotten fed up with his behaviour

so Iruka low-key sets up a trap just for Kakashi and it works bc Kakashi's brain funk is wonky

and he's like "you bastard I thought we were all having ramen together tonight but the kids said you had other shit to do - you and I both know you put off everything else till after! remember the anbu incident"

so Iruka is like "fess up what's bothering you??" kakashi looks so pathetic with one foot caught in a trap, dangling upside down from a tree, but more so because he looks so exhausted

so Kakashi talks about how when he first saw that scar, he got kinda scared ab loosing him

Iruka starts laughing until he notices Kakashi's solemn face and he's like "oh you're actually serious huh"

so. Iruka cuts Kakashi loose on the condition he doesn't run away. Kakashi would have, had Iruka not held his hand

and Iruka explains his own issues with his scar "you know, a guy I considered my best friend gave me this! it almost killed me!" kakashi pale

"so there's bad stuff ab it, but it's also the scar from when Naruto passed his exam. when we finally got on another's wave length proper, when Naruto saved me literally and I guess I sorta saved him"

Iruka explains that the scar is from a very positive part of his life. that he's grateful that it happened, if it hadn't, he wouldn't have gotten to know Naruto like he does, he wouldnt have ever met Kakashi

"you already knew me before tho" "yeah as like, passing co-workers. I wouldn't have learned what makes you tick or be able to hold your hand like this, and this is really nice, best I've ever had"

kakashi flushes red like. that's too intimate.

"Kakashi don't get embarassed you read porn in public. with a straight face."

also I'd like to have this sort of flash back to when Iruka was in the hospital and anbu Kakashi was keeping an eye on him and Naruto

[woodsfae]

Babylon 5 s02E08 Soul Mates

s02 Table of Contents • previous episode

oh god. All three of Londo Mollari's wives. Minus two. Sounds very slightly more manageable. To watch.

What kind of mind trick was that? Stoner, lol. Maybe it’s the scent of dank weed floating off him.

No. I just made a very weird noise. Talia's ex husband Matt Stoner has arrived on B5. This is going to be an episode of all time. I can just tell.

Timov: "I won't bite, Vir." Vir: “With all due respect, madam, that's not what I heard." Timov: “All right....that one time." Vir: “It was...it was twice..."

Oh, Centauri. why. Them Being Like That is, so far, kinda funny, kinda repelling. While being unfairly interesting, actually. I'm getting to be fond of complaining about them. And I also realized today that part of what repels me about them is that I feel unwillingly voyeuristic whenever they get heterosexually dysfunctional.

^ actually me whenever the Centauri whip out a tentacle or overshare about their painfully hetero sex lives

Another wife has arrived! I quite like these two women interacting.

John Sheridan, my heart just grew three sizes. That's so sweet! Friends and allies!

ashfdsjhfd. OK. I have to pause and quote this Ivanova and Delenn interaction because I just put my hands over my face and scream-laughed for a minute over Delenn's hair.

Delenn, all but vibrating in rage: "Commander. I want you to understand. I acquired human characteristics to bring your people and mine closer together. To symbolize our mutuality! It is supposed to be a dignified, inspiring transition for both humans and Minbari. So will you, please, explain to me, why this - this - this *rips at hair*" Ivanova: "Hair." Delenn *rips at a trapped hairbrush* "...refuses to cooperate?!"

This is also everything I ever wanted. And also why my hair is never allowed to grow longer than my chin before I whack it off.

Delenn: "Please. I trust you."

my heart

Oh, Talia. My heart again, for totally different reasons. PsiCorps are shits.

And G'Kar!! I've missed G'Kar. His armor is getting prettier and prettier I swear.

So shimmery and shiny!

I could watch Daggair and Timov all day.

Daggair: "Your problem, Timov, is that you've never known your place." Timov: "My place? You once threatened to break a vase over his head." Daggair, laughing: "Well, that...that, was the impetuousness of youth." Timov: "That was last month."

Timov definitely has Londo's number. I agree with her, Daggair is definitely up to something.

Timov: "The secret of our marriage's success, Londo, is our lack of communication. You have jeopardized that success, and I would know why."

This is absolutely, hands down, the funniest, most engaging, and delightful Centauri episode so far. I love Timov so much. She can come back whenever she likes.

Happy 30th Ascension Day, Londo.

Wow, a two-out-of-three divorce is a great 30th Ascension Day gift from the emperor. Well, any one wish within his power is a great gift, but it totally tracks that Londo would use it to get out of as many arranged marriages as possible (while insisting that it's a valid way of life and other people should just shut up and take the marriages).

I like the staggered introduction of Mollari wives.

I bet the props department had a ton of fun coming up with alien artifacts.

Lennier is back!!! He's so sweet. Checking to make sure the hair curlers aren't painful. I must disagree with Delenn: they may not be physically painful, but they're a psychological torment.

This tension between Garibaldi and Matt Stoner is delightful. He's clearly a shit, but he and Garibaldi have banger chemistry.

Londo: "Be careful. I should have warned you. On Earth, you have these creatures - insects attracted to flames?" Sheridan: "Uh, yes. Moths. They're drawn to flames and bright lights, and get burned." Londo: "Mariel is drawn to men of power in that same way. But trust me - she burns them."

I like her.

My most insistent inclination right now is that Londo will stay married to Timov. But I could also see him staying with Mariel just because she's the youngest, or he admires her zest for burning powerful men. Or Daggair, since she's flattering his ego on this trip. It'll be interesting to see how this goes! Perhaps this divorce is a fake-out and he'll end up using his favor for something completely unrelated.

Fuck U Matt. Leave her alone.

This is definitely a case of the cure being worse than the sickness. Losing telepathy after a lifetime of having it sounds traumatic. Losing it to get out of PsiCorps grip if there's no other option - potentially worth it, depending on the individual. Having your creepy ex arrange for it, thus giving his obsessed and gross self something to hold over you? Nooo. No thank you.

Talia, to Garibaldi: "Please, keep out of this. It's not your concern." Garibaldi: "I...I feel it is." Talia: "Feel differently."

TELL HIM SIS. Fuck yes. Talia telling men to fuck off instead of appeasing them and de-escalating is a glorious thing to behold.

Londo: "You haven't changed." Timov: "You have. You've devolved."

Your honor, I love her.

:( I'm sorry you're apologizing to Gaibaldi, Talia.

And that you're considering leaving with Matt!

Understandable feelings, F- risk assessment.

Londo and G'Kar's fighting is as delightful as ever! Londo could do so much with his brainpower if he devoted it to anything worthwhile, and this is obvious because he's so good at fucking with G'Kar.

Lennier is so fucking cute. Londo is going to cheat so hard with those marked cards.

Murder via ancient, Centauri artifact is a pretty interesting way to take someone out.

Obviously Matt Stoner sucks, but I continue to love him and Garibaldi interacting.

Awwww, Timov.

"Whatever you think of me, doctor, I have some principles that even twenty years with Londo can't erase."

oh my god. hahahahaha I love her.

Security Officer: "There's just something about [Matt] that makes you wanna like him."

Hmmmm. Residual PsiPowers?

Franklin: "Ambassador Mollari, do you mind if make one personal observation? Londo: "No, not at all." Franklin: "Stick it." Londo: "How odd. I didn't even know we were married."

That's a pretty good one. I tolerate the Centauri Boomer Humor a lot better when it's less hetero.

Matt definitely has some latent PsiPowers. Shake it off, Talia! Kick him in the nads!

Well, setting him up to being hit by Garibaldi is OK too, I guess.

I did wonder if Mariel was responsible for the poisoning. Love her. And G'Kar! He continues to be a total delight and I love seeing him interact with new people.

Matt: "Look into my mind. No shields. No tricks." Talia: "No chance."

Good plan. A+ risk assessment. That's character growth!

It is slightly laudable that Londo prefers to have honestly over flattery in his stable relationships.

:( oh fuck, poor Delenn. Menstruating is not something you wanna pick up, especially when it comes with cramps. :(

next episode

[soundsofastar]

👀 character thoughts?? i am listening..

OK. OH MY GOD. OK.OK highly unexpected from me but i really wanna get into KATSUKI BAKUGOU FROM BNHA OF PEOPLE. but PLEASE just fucking hear me out i've held these thoughts with me since i was like 12 or something. Long ramble about Angry characters and their fandomification under the cut. Part 2 on netzach lobcorp if people want it enough

Big sigh. Ho boy. I have. A lot to say about thus little idiot highschooler /lovingly

Bakugou is a very interestingly written character especially of the angry/extreme ones i see, and a pretty realistic one at that. I say this as someone who can see myself in him a LOT.

Keep in mind I'm an anime only and only rewatched it about half a year ago and quit near the school festival arc!!! So this might be a bit off if you also wanna add in recent facts.

Now that the disclaimer's over, let's get started, shall we?

Bakugou is ab a highschooler's age. A bully towards the protagonist of the series (izuku), who I also have a lot of feelings about but this isn't about him sorry. Highschooler who bullies Izuku, indirectly motivating izuku to be better as he aspires to be like bakugou — who .. in the start of the series, is only really shown to be the worst to izuku but I'm inclined to say that that's kind of just standard high-schooler behavior from my experience. Sure he's a bit rough with his friends, but, he's 16. He's also what one might call an academic weapon, probably also not naturally. Not to mention, he's got a sick ass and powerful quirk. TL,DR; he won out on the genetics lottery — good for him, right?

He's what I say is one of if not the perfect cocktail which makes up a gifted kid. I feel like people forget about this a lot. Gifted kids are okay with school and all until they're suddenly surrounded by people with their same levels, if not higher — they begin to feel threatened, and no longer like the exception. This happens to bakuogu due to him entering U.A high, quite literally the most prestigious one in Japan (no big../s). He quite literally yells out at izuku about how insignificant he's begun feeling ever since izuku seemed to "beat him", or more so, get on his shared level.

Now, I'm not here to excuse him or anything he did for izuku, but I feel that this specific theme caused... way more discourse than it should've. For fucks sake first of all, being 16 is HARD, because you don't know how to feel and everything is changing — and not to mention you already feel so insignificant. Seeing someone who used to be so far below you suddenly be on the same level as you, it not higher, is an IMMENSE punch to the ol' self worth. Even though one might be staying on top of everything — todoroki still surpasses Bakugou, and he stays number 2, but for bakugou that's just not enough, because his whole life He's been number 1 to everyone and anyone. Losing a status as large as that at an age so fragile can be incredibly crushing and it does VILE things to people. You feel all your self worth slip from you. Everything becomes more hard to do. And you just can't help but want to give up.

TL;DR — people forget bakugou is still a TEENAGER. They are Emotional and that's NORMAL and bakugou was especially ESPEEECIALLY realistically written by making him angry. And I think people really need to take a step back and remember that yeah sure his behavior towards izuku isn't justified but his anger should very much be understood

[kitkatwinchester]

HAHA I LOVE OUR LITTLE PACK!

"We're gonna rob an armored car?" "Well, we're gonna try."

ANYTHING FOR STILES, AMIRITE?!

That said...

MS. MORRELL I SWEAR TO GOD! I was COUNTING ON YOU GOSH DARNAT!!

I don't know why I was counting on her. She's never ACTUALLY been on our side. I was just hoping that maybe, finally, since Scott LITERALLY SAVED HER LIFE, she might consider, oh, I don't know, HELPING US?!

Which, like, okay, admittedly, she KIND OF did, by giving Stiles the amphetamines and telling him what the marks meant and giving him, like, SOMEWHAT of a head start as far as fighting the Nogitsune on his own.

But the whole threatening to kill him thing isn't exactly what I would call helping.

But WHATEVER I GUESS.

Oh, and I take back what I said about Oliver. I am now completely suspicious of him. Dude literally just popped up out of nowhere, magically, when Stiles was trying to investigate the basement, and he encouraged him to try to trick Brunski into giving up the keys, and now I feel like he's some sort of plant or something that's gonna wind up getting Stiles in trouble, because that's a thing that happens, and now I don't trust it. So never mind. I don't want them to be friends. WHERE'S SCOTT?! XD

Also, my heart definitely just broke a little bit at that Derek and Chris conversation. Like, first of all, Chris fully acknowledging that he would feel remorse if he had to kill Stiles is so sweet and so heart-breaking, but then him switching to the fact that he would have no remorse if all he was killing was the Nogitsune is terrifying and now I'm very afraid for my boy.

Also also, the way Derek is talking makes me think he is also more inclined to kill the Nogitsune, even if it means killing Stiles, and I DON'T LIKE THAT, so STOP IT!

I mean, I stand by the fact that I'm 99.9% sure that no one's gonna be able to touch Stiles because True Alpha Scott would never allow it, but still, it's a frightening thought, and I don't like how many people are getting prepared to kill him, no matter the cost. :(

(The quote isn't on the gif but "by significant and strange, do you mean hopeful and optimistic?". XD XD GOD I'VE MISSED HIM! I'VE MISSED BEING ABLE TO STEAL INCORRECT QUOTES FROM HIM! XD <3 <3 <3 <3)

[thenexusofsouls]

does nuada only protect his people, or does he feel sympathy for other species who are not human (such as other elves even though they may not belong to his people, all the strange little creatures in the market, or even characters like hellboy and abe sapien themselves) and are there humans he could actually like because they have powers? (e.g. liz... LIZ IS SO COOL)

{i am the caretaker of souls} You know... I really don’t know? In some cases, he seems to, but then in others he doesn’t. For example, he clearly thinks highly of Mr. Wink, and is upset at his death, wanting vengeance. So he can respect and befriend individuals of other races. He sure seems to have befriended the little creatures who give him messages, ones I refer to as bark children. Nuada seems to treat them pretty well, maybe to get things in return from them, but even so.

And Hellboy he did try to “save” in is own way, by trying to give him advice. Some have said that Nuada only did that to eliminate Hellboy as an enemy and make him an ally, but I don’t think Nuada felt threatened by him at all. I think he was trying to legitimately clue Hellboy in that, hey, you’re just a freak to them, and you should be a king. Like he fully believed that Hellboy was more than what humans had sort of relegated him to, or what he had made of himself while trying to live within the boundaries of human life instead of embracing his true nature. In some ways, Nuada and Hellboy are alike. They both have natures that are wild, unpredictable, rough, and insistent. The only difference is that Hellboy tries to hide or suppress his nature to fit in with humans, while Nuada embraces it and does not try to fit in anywhere. But yeah, he did want more for Hellboy and I believe his situation of wanting to fit in with humans was something Nuada found upsetting and that he wanted to rectify.

However, Nuada also bought tooth fairies “on the black market,” as Krauss mentioned. This brings to mind some kind of shady, puppy-mill-esque type of situation, in which the fairies are either bred or harvested from the wild without care and then sold cheap. Plus, he pretty much sent them to their deaths at that auction. He also sent the forest god to death, knowing full well that, by his own words, it was “the last of its kind.” Seems pretty careless to me, like he was so trivial with such a rare life. So yeah, I’m really on the fence as to whether he respects all forms of life (except humans of course heh) or not. His behavior seems inconsistent to me. 

But that’s canon Nuada. My version does respect other forms of life, and to reconcile my version of him with canon, I’ve had to do a considerable amount of explaining over the years with regard to his choices and behavior, especially about the forest god. But yeah, my version of him does try to preserve other species, will interact with other Elven ethnicities, and does consider magic-wielding and supernaturally gifted humans like Liz to be exceptions, as least in theory. He might not like Liz because she so vehemently hated him, but otherwise he would be inclined to be more lenient with humans like her who have ben touched by something magical or supernatural and are somewhat outside of the human norm.

[bratkook]

choke me. (m) jjk

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, absolutely no plot word count. 2.9k warnings. short but sweet filthy, unprotected sex, messy sex, choking (jungkook begs her to choke him), dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), face riding, jungkook swears he sees jesus, his not so secret love for gossiping returns summary. now that the line between peeping tom and teasing neighbor had been crossed, entering into mutually beneficial territory, jungkook feels less wary about asking you to wrap your pretty hands around his throat note. peeping tom!jungkook is back for more, technically this is a second installment to come over but can def be read as a stand alone drabble! he lives in my mind rent free so i hope you all enjoy his brief return 🖤(i also wrote this in an hour so theres that) honorable mentions to @suqakoo​ who i promised id tag if i ever continued this story 🤧 @taestybae​ who is essentially the reason why i wrote the first part ily bae & @pars-ley​ i hope long hair jk ruins you once more

Jungkook absolutely can’t think of any other place he’d rather be than right here, right now. He’s honestly contemplating sending his realtor a bouquet of roses, hell maybe one of those edible arrangements with the melon shaped like petals, anything to show his immense gratitude for helping him buy this house. 

Really, who would have ever thought the chain of events would lead to this very moment, sprawled out on his bed, large palms digging into your hips as you bounced on top of him, the slick sounds of your pussy soaking his cock filling up the room in a filthy manner. He is once again thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings that brought this moment to fruition. 

“Shit,” you gasp, palms resting on his hard chest for leverage as you lift yourself up and drop back with a wet thump, “god, you feel so good.”

Your words are thick and slurred, drunk off the feeling of his cock filling you up deliciously, the subtle ruts of his hips working in tandem with yours making sparks of pleasure shoot throughout your body. Jungkook can only smirk at the way you’re lost in the feeling of it, the arousal dripping down your thighs, pooling around the base of his cock in a sticky mess that he had grown to love. 

“Yeah?” he breathes out, bottom lip victim to his teeth as he bites down. The usual doe eyed look he had was missing now, swapped for a half lidded stare that made your stomach flip when you lock eyes.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses, fingers pressing further into your skin when you tighten around him, not once slowing your movements, the perfect rhythym of your hips making a steady incline of lust course up his spine. “Making such a mess on my cock. You love it don’t you?”

A desperate whine spills out of you, fingernails pressing into the muscles on his chest, leaving half moons in their wake but he enjoys the sting too much to complain. “I just–feel so full, fuck Jungkook.”

He smiles at the way you trail off, your mouth dropped open with pouty lips wet with saliva. His palms can feel the way your body trembles with each thrust, warmth brewing inside of you and threatening to spill over every time he meets your hips with those dangerous eyes locked on you. Slowly, he raises his hand higher, following the soft skin of your sides, tracing every slope and curve of your body until he’s grabbing a handful of your tits, squeezing just enough to make you mewl in desire. 

Jungkook groans out when you speed up your hips, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him tighter than before as he pinches your nipples between his fingers, the new found sensitivity only making you lose yourself further. 

He can feel the cool sweat dampening his body, making his skin stick to the sheets beneath him, could see it slowly coating your neck as you throw your head back, revealing your throat to him and that makes the flash of an idea come back to mind. 

“Fuck, fuck wait–“ he gasps out, heels digging into his mattress as his mind begins to spin at the premise of it all. A curious look sent his way as you slow your hips, a torturous glide being swapped in favor of stopping altogether but it’s enough for him to gather his thoughts properly. “Choke me.”

“R-really?” You stutter out, chest panting from a mix of exertion and excitement, the mental image of your hands wrapped around his thick neck stirring something inside of you. Something about a man like Jungkook, all muscles and strength that couldn’t be matched, asking you to choke him felt so wrong it was almost right. 

“Please,” he’s begging now, skin on fire at even asking and potentially being turned down, but he can see the flash in your eyes, the way it turns you on, and if that didn’t settle him then the way you frantically nod in agreement does. 

“Yeah, yeah i’ll choke you,” your right palm glides up his chest now, feeling the slight trembles that course through him from the steady rocking of your hips, his ragged breaths hitting the air as you gingerly touch his neck. “You gotta show me how though.”

You were very familiar with choking, being on the receiving end of it plenty of times, but you had never been the one in control and the last thing you wanted was to do this wrong. He smiles in appreciation though, a small chuckle leaving him as he places his palm over yours, delicately guiding it to the right spot over his throat. 

Jungkook can already feel his cock stirring inside of you as he moves your fingers correctly, a low groan rumbling in his throat that is felt against your palm when you press down. Your eyes are wide with excitement, seeing how something so simple is affecting him before you have even started. The blood pumping in his veins pulses against your fingers, squeezing down further when he urges you to do so with his palm, a satisfied smile curling his lips up as he sighs. 

“Fuck, just like that.” He rasps out, dropping his hand to allow you full control, choosing to grip onto the sheets as you slowly resume your pace once more. 

Jungkook knew sending you a text reminiscent to the one you sent him before would lead to this, in one form or another, but having you riding him with your fingers pressed into his neck had just become his new favorite fantasy. 

A small moan leaves you as you look down at him, his long sweaty hair raked off his face, allowing you to see the way his brows furrowed together as the sensations flooded his mind. He looked like your favorite wet dream, eyes staring up at you in that dazed way that showed he was lost in the pleasure, tongue swiping at his lower lip as he moaned out your name, tugging at the sheets and rutting up into you with more urgency each time. 

“Fuck, and you called me dirty,” you laugh out, leaning forward to inch closer to his face, pressing a teasing kiss to his lips and giggling when he tries to chase them for more, tightening your hold on his throat until his eyes are fluttering shut. 

Jungkook feels like he’s floating, the low thrumming in his ears getting louder as the seconds tick by, the wet squelch of your pussy creaming his cock mixing in with your soft laughs and its filthy. “Tighter,” he rasps out, blinking his eyes open to see you once more, nodding in reassurance when you look unsure. “Please.”

When you do as he asks he swears he’ll cum instantly, his stomach caving in as the coil tightens inside of him, the heady feeling clouding his thoughts, leaving the edges of his sight speckled and faded, the image of you above him still crystal clear. There's so much want in your eyes, your own orgasm slowly creeping up on you at just seeing how affected he is by you doing this. His free hand drops back down to your hips, urging you to speed up your movements, each glide of your drenched walls feeling like heaven, draping over him in this soft warmth that leaves him gasping lewdly. 

Maybe Jungkook should go to church.

A small shiver racks your body, pushing aside your own pleasure when you start to spot the floaty appearance on his features, the breathy whines that escape him, eyes spaced out, only focusing on the growing euphoric feeling coming from where you two connect, spreading to his every limb until he’s tensing up. “Wanna feel you cum Jungkook, c’mon, make me messy again.”

Jungkook nods at your words, speech wiped from his mind, blanking as you squeeze him further, the hand gripping the sheets shooting up to wrap around your wrist as a desperate moan leaves his swollen lips when his orgasm crashes over him in surprise, a flash of white spread across his vision. His eyes roll back in pleasure, hips rutting up into yours so forcefully you’re nearly falling over him, releasing his throat and allowing him to gasp in a breath, his warm cum spilling into you in spurts that you welcome.

“Fuck, oh fuck.” He chants, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up like you asked him to, the buzz of pleasure soaking into his bones and leaving him satisfied, limbs limp as you milk his orgasm out of him fully. Jungkook weakly mumbles out your name as you continue grinding on him, the friction against your clit making you moan in response, leaning forward to cup his cheeks as you kiss him gently as he comes down. “Come up here.”

It takes you a moment to know what he means, spoken so slurred together in his post orgasm bliss you think he might just be mumbling nonsense, but as he grabs your hips with both hands and slides you off his softening cock you know exactly what he wants you to do. With shaky knees you crawl over him, sodden folds sliding against his torso and leaving a mess as you make your way to the head of the bed. 

“Fuck, look at you.” He mumbles, arms hooking under your thighs to urge you up until your core hovered directly above him, knees digging into the sheets beside his head with your hand grabbing onto the headboard for support. Jungkook eyes your swollen lips, coated in your arousal and a mixture of his cum still dripping out of you, it’s not like he minds though, determined to have you falling apart because of him. 

“Made me cum so hard I swear I saw Jesus,” he jokes, soft huffs of laughter hitting your inner thighs as he sloppily kisses them, tongue licking up drops of your arousal as he makes his way up. “Wanna return the favor.”

A whimper leaves your mouth as he teasingly licks along your slit, tip of his tongue flicking against your aching clit as he does so, humming in content when you tangle your hands in his hair. With soft, tickling touches of his fingers against the backs of your thighs you lower onto him, only the tops of his eyes visible as he pulls you further onto him, a cheeky wink sent your way before he goes in for the kill.

Jungkook digs his fingers into your skin to keep you in place as he licks a broad stripe up your folds, shamelessly moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, smiling against you when you shudder at the sensation. “Fuck, Jungkook.” You can barely whisper out, hips dropping lower in search for more and he groans, not opposed to the way your thighs cage him in, surrounded by you entirely.

A small shriek fills the air as his lips wrap around you clit, sucking on the swollen nub with intent to make you crumble, moaning against you as you tug at his strands with force, the yank at his scalp only making him keep at it. Stars flash behind your closed lids as you give an experimental grind of your hips, rutting against his tongue until you’re gasping, Jungkook’s fingers loosening their hold to allow you to seek your own pleasure, using his tongue to get yourself off on top of him.

He can feel his cock stirring back to life at you using him like this, fingers pushing his face further up, his tongue flicking against you, lips sucking enough to get you to tremble. “Shit, Jungkook, ah— c-close.”

The slow, deliberate roll of your hips increases as the familiar high approaches you, Jungkook’s hands grabbing onto your ass to urge you, guide you against him with more force. The wetness pools down your thighs, coats his mouth and chin but he swears he could drown here and die happy, fully content to know the last sounds he hears is you chanting his name out like a mantra.

“Shit, I’m cumming.” The heat curls in your stomach, flames licking at your insides as your hips grow sloppy and desperate, fingers clutching onto his hair like a lifeline as you can just barely taste your high. It’s not until Jungkook presses his tongue harder against you, providing you with that last bit of friction you need, that you cum with a shout of his name. His fingers rubbing soft circles onto your skin as he continues to suck on your clit, enjoying the aftershocks that course through you, the small whines and whimpers of overstimulation as he licks you clean. 

“Ah, too much.” you plea, lifting yourself up from his mouth as the pleasure turns painful. He looks absolutely satisfied with himself, a charming smile on his messy lips as he stares up at you with glimmering eyes. 

“That was amazing.” A snort leaves you as you carefully slide off of him, settling beside him with a content sigh, thighs still trembling from it all, something he takes note of as he runs his fingers against them. 

“Who knew you loved getting choked,” you giggle, inching away from him when he attempts to grab you, “my hands weren’t enough for you, just had to go and let my thighs finish you off huh?”

“Shut up,” he whines, fingers wrapping around your ankle and yanking you back to him with more ease than you expected, not content until you were pressed against him once more. The heat of your bodies isn’t uncomfortable as he holds you close, maneuvering himself until you were flat on your back with his body slot between your thighs, arms wrapped underneath you with his cheek against your tummy. “You were totally into it too.”

“Hm, I was.” You can’t even deny it, seeing Jungkook looking so submissive at your hands made a small rush flow through you, the same rush you felt whenever he was rough with you. This was something the two of you could definitely play around with.

Jungkook looks beyond comfortable in his position, nuzzling against you happily, not caring about the way your skin sticks together but just as you’re about to shut your eyes he speaks. “Oh my god,” his cheek lifts from your skin to look up at you with a smile when you raise your brow in curiosity, “did you hear about the drama going on down the street?”

“What drama?”

“You know the preschool teacher that lives in that blue house?” Your hands run through his damp hair as you try to remember, finally putting a face to the person and nodding in confirmation, “Okay well she got that soccer mom’s car towed this morning.”

“Jungkook, how do you know this?” You laugh out, draping your arm across your face to hide the way you found it all amusing, his gossiping tendencies coming out full force.

“Well ever since somebody—” his fingers dig into your skin playfully, laughing as you squirm around, “lied to me about the group chat I got nosey, found this app called Next Door and the drama is top notch.” It was really a gold mine of petty neighborhood tea, keeping him entertained like the morning newspaper, knowing the ins and outs of who was the neighborhood Karen and who you could trust to call the cops if anyone attempted to break into your house.

“You know Jungkook, I never pegged you as the kind to love gossip.”

He rests his chin on your sternum now, eyebrows wiggling mischievously as the words leave your mouth. “Did you say peg?”

“Oh my god, get out of here!” He cackles instantly, allowing you to push his face away from you while you attempt to get up, his hands loosening their hold on you only to allow himself to crawl up your body once more. Your laughs continue to fill the air as he kisses your cheek sloppily, “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“I was joking,” he chuckles, leaning back with a smile, “unless you’re into that.” He tacks on the same ending as last time, winking when you scrunch your face up in embarrassment.

“Go, don’t you have work to do.” Desperately needing him to get away from you before your mind spun up another filthy fantasy at his expense.

“Need I remind you, you’re in my bed.” 

“Yeah well, your bed is lined in egyptian cotton and smells like fresh laundry so don’t mind me, I’ll be here.” He had no qualms about that, giving you a final kiss to your lips before deciding you were right, he had been distracted enough by sending you that text to come over, needing to finish up the work he had to turn in by tonight.

As he walks around his room and gets himself looking decent enough to sit at his desk you flop over with a sigh, burying your face into his pillow and smiling when the familiar scent of him fills your nose. Looking out of his bedroom window and seeing your own bedroom a few feet away makes your stomach flutter with the same excitement as before, his teasing words replaying in your mind now.

Unless you’re into that. 

How many more ways could he use that phrase for trouble?

[vngelis]

You're going to play now - Shigaraki Tomura

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x fem!Reader

Summary: Quirkless!AU. Your boyfriend will give you the attention you want but don't you dare lose his progress in his game.

Content warnings: NSFW. Minors DNI. Fingering. Edging. Praise kink. Pet used as a pet name. OOC Shiggy.

A/N: I wanted this to be slight praise kink but no lo logré lol, sorry for the extremely ooc Shiggy that I created. Also my brain stopped working and forgot how English works so the writing is probably trash.

WC: 2.1k+

Masterlist

You look up from your phone and see the same you’ve been seeing for the past three hours; Your boyfriend sitting in front of the screen of his computer playing that stupid war game. You sigh. You were absolutely bored.

“I’m bored.” You say, with the hope that he will give you attention now.

“Yeah.” Was his only answer. You sigh again.

You let your phone fall in his bed, where you were laying and push yourself up, stretching your back and arms and letting out a satisfied moan, Shigaraki didn’t hear or he just didn’t care, the later was most likely. You started walking in his room, observing the few things he had. A couple of action figures in his shelves, one poster so old that it looked like a blank paper, some clothes in the floor and a mirror. You paused in front of the mirror and looked at yourself. Today you had put a little more effort in your appearance, with the hope that that guy who was ignoring you paid you a little attention.

You brushed your hair with your fingers and huffed, letting your arms fall at your sides.

You looked at him and walked the four steps it took you to stand behind his chair and made eye contact with the back of his head for five second before taking a hold of his hair and pulling it so his head was inclined against the head rest. He locked eyes with you with an annoyed expression on his face.

The both of you opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted by some shooting sounds and a change of colors in the computer screen.

A banner that said “you were killed” appeared in the middle of the screen.

“I was going for a flawless victory, pet.” He said with such a monotonous voice that it made you shudder a little.

“Sorry.” You said. He rolled his eyes and tried to look at the screen again to continue his game, but you pulled at his hair again. He groaned annoyed.

“What?” He asked harshly.

“I’m bored.” You repeated your sentence from minutes ago. He rolled his eyes and sighed, after looking at you for like ten seconds he sighed one more time before pulling his chair back. You smiled, thinking he was going to stand up and finally spend time with you, but he just took your hand that was still on his hair and pulled you until you were standing in front of him but facing the screen. All this while muttering something along the lines of “So fucking annoying.”

“What ar-“ You were interrupted as his hands on your waist pushed you down into his lap.

“Grab this.” He handed you the joystick and started pointing at some buttons. “This one is to aim, this one to shoot. This one right here is to move and this one is to recharge.”

“What do you m–” You tried to say again, but your boyfriend interrupted you once more.

“You’re going to play.” He said, with a firm voice.

“Oh...okay?” You pressed the button to resume the game and slowly and insecurely started moving where you thought you had to.

“You’re going the other way.”

“Shit, sorry”. You chuckled nervously and started to move the other way.

“You better not lose.” He said lowly as his thumbs stroked your waist. “Or I'll be really pissed.” You gulped.

As soon as he finished speaking someone started shooting your way. You clumsily aimed where you thought the shots were coming from, when you spotted an opponent you pressed the bottom without thinking.

Headshot.

“Oh my god, look!” You squealed happily. His hands in your waist gave a short squeezed before descending to your hips, where they squeezed again. He leaned his head against your shoulder to have a better view.

“Good girl.” He praised softly in your ear, making your face heat up. “You better not lose.” He repeated as his hands went even lower, reaching your thighs and going under your skirt.

“Sh–Shiggy.” You muttered nervously, looking down at his hands. He pinched your thigh lightly, just enough to keep you looking up.

“Eyes on the screen.” He said firmly, returning his hand under your skirt. ''You wanted my attention, now you have it. Don’t lose.”

You looked up and continue to roam the area, searching for other opponents. Hard task with his hands slowly approaching your panties tho.

Not long after, you noticed someone looking away from you. You aimed and shot, this time it took you two shots, but you managed to kill them anyway.

“You’re really good at this.” He murmured, kissing your temple at the same time his fingers grazed the edge of your panties. “Maybe I should had let you play sooner.”

“Maybe you should had.” You murmured back. He scoffed pinching your inner thigh again, making you squeal.

“Don’t get cocky.” You let out a little giggle at the same time you killed someone who started to shot your way. This time his fingers grazed softly over your clothed clit. You shuddered and Tomura laughed softly. “Keep playing.” He murmured in your neck before giving a small kiss.

His fingers started to rub against you more firmly now. You let out a choked moan as your legs tried to close but he avoided that putting each one of your legs over one of his, keeping them spread. You tried to kill another one, but you missed and they managed to escape. Tomura let out a discontent groan and his fingers left you and rested on your thighs again. “N-no. Don’t stop.”

“Keep playing then.” Was his only response.

You started searching for more opponents slightly desperate so he could be happy and return his touch, but you couldn’t find anyone. “Where the fuck is everyone?” You muttered lowly. He lightly chuckled behind you.

“Look in the small map in the bottom left, the red dots.” He guided you. You looked at the map and started running to where the nearest dot was. Aim and shot. Another kill.

“Yeah, that’s more like it.” He praised as he moves your hair from the side of your neck so he can start leaving open mouth kisses there. One of his hands went up your shirt and started stroking your navel as he continues kissing your neck, the other one rest over your clothed clit again, without enough pressure to get you off but enough so you know his hand is there.

You killed one more and you started to get more confident in the game, starting to get the hang of it, and without the touch of your boyfriend you could starts to get focused. But without your cute sounds and reactions, he was the one that started to feel neglected.

His hands went to your underthighs and roughly pulled them even more separated, your eyes waver between the screen and what his hands were doing, but some shootings made you keep your focus on the game. You started to shoot back but failed. At least the other person failed too and you manage to escape. When another group of people came near your position your boyfriend pulled your panties to the side and made direct contact with your slit.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet.” He whispered as he dragged his fingers up to your clit.

“Shit, I can’t concentrate like this.” You cried out and blindly shoot around you, surprisingly killing two of them.

“Too bad. Try.” He used your slick to push one finger inside of you and you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Hey, hey, eyes on the screen, you are doing good, don’t stop now.” The hand that was on your navel went up to your jaw, positioning your head straight.

“You say it like it’s easy.” You said in between moans.

“You were the one crying for my attention, now deal with it.” He finished his sentence with a pinch in your clit and a squeeze at the bottom of your neck, making you moan.

He moved his fingers down your slit again and this time pushed two digits inside of you, he groaned as you squeezed around them. “So tight.” He muttered against your neck again.

His fingers started to drag against your walls just like he knew you like it and your eyes fell shut for a couple of seconds, enough seconds for the other players to find you and kill you. Your eyes opened immediately when Tomura stopped the movement of his fingers inside of you.

“You can only die three times per mission before it makes you start from the damn beginning. Don’t you dare lose all my fucking progress.” He says with a low and threatening voice. “You only have one life left.”

“Yes, sorr-Ah!” You’re interrupted with the touch of his other hand’s fingers in your clit. “No! Tomura! Too much! I’m going to lose” You squeaked as one of your hands left the joystick to grab at his wrist,

“Both hands on the controller.” He warned without slowing his movements. You loosened your grip and bring your hand up again while your legs began to shake.

Both of his hands started to move in that complex synchrony that you never manage to do on your own and your moans got louder. Your hips were bucking down into his, your grinding making your boyfriend moan underneath you. “Fuck, don’t- Look, look at the screen. Focus.”

Even though he could easily get lost in just your movements on top of him, his hands never falter, and you began to feel your climax approaching.

“Shiggy, I- I can’t.” You whined trying to keep all your focus away from his fingers inside you.

“Yes, you can, look how far you managed to get. You’re doing. So. Good.” Every word is emphasized with a deep trust of his fingers, aimed at that one spot inside of you that makes you cry in pleasure. “You’ve been doing so good, I know you can manage a couple of minutes more.”

“Yeah.” You cried. “I can.” With that you killed one more person in the game, winning a kiss in the temple from your boyfriend.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear, and that caused you to clench around his fingers, making him groan. That sound brought you even closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck, don’t say shit like that.” You whined, making him laugh softly. “I want to cum.”

“Not yet.” You whined once more. “Come on, keep being my good girl and kill one more.”

You half conscious started to search for more players so you can make Tomura happy. You killed one more, and you won one more kiss on your temple, at the same tame his movement sped up, your moans and whines getting louder.

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Look, there’s 30 seconds left, just hold it. You’re always so good for me, I know you can.” His words were not helping you, nor did the fact that his movements sped up even more. “Just don’t die, okay? There’s still 15 seconds.”

“I-I can’t.”

Once the chronometer in the screen got to 10, your boyfriend started to count with it. You were trying so hard not to cum before you were allowed, but his fingers just felt so good.

“Three, two, one. That’s it, you can cum now, pet. It wasn’t that hard, was it?” He murmured in your ear. His word fell in deaf ears as you felt like you fainted once you let it go. You were letting out moan after moan. Your legs were shaking over Tomura’s and your hips couldn’t stop grinding against your boyfriend’s hands. He couldn’t help to slightly buck his hips up into your ass.

“Fuck.” You sighed once you started to get your senses back.

Shigaraki took his fingers out of you slowly and you hissed because of the sensitivity. He started to stroke your still shaking thighs with his still slightly wet fingers. “Did you like the game?”

“I mean- Yeah?” You said unsure, you just killed people after all, didn’t know shit about the game itself. “I did’t catch anything of the story, that if it even has one.” You glared at him accusingly.

He ignored you and tapped you legs, signalizing for you to stand up. You complied and smiled at him when he also stands up. It instantly disappears when he makes you sit again, this time alone.

“What happened?”

“Read what is says in the screen. There’s still four missions lefts.” He starts kneeling in front of you. “Now maybe you’ll understand a little more about the game.” Shigaraki smirks as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Remember, don’t lose my progress.”

[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #10

Prompts:

36. Hatred

14. "I'm screwed."

18. “I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll cut their arm off.”

Floyd Leech x Reader

Summery: Sometimes working customer service sucks ass- especially when creeps keep catcalling you and no one's saying anything. Good thing you have your boyfriend to come in and beat the shit out of people just in the nick of time.

TW: Incel behavior; Creeps; Cat Calling; Uncomfortable Situations; Blood; Violence; Fist Fighting; Pinning Down (Not in a good way)

Word Count: 1,152

A note from Fel: SO, TO START OFF- THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE????? Y'ALL ARE SO DAMN SWEET, THANK YOU!!!!! But y'all are gonna turn me into a full blow slut if you keep complimenting me. Also! For those who sent in requests- rest assured they are saftly sitting in my ask box, I'm just gonna save them for after April Brain Rot so I can make sure that I have everything in order lmao. (And that person who requested more Mafia Au??? I love you- much kisses~). ALSO SINCE I WANT TO GUSH ABOUT MY GF TOO- she liked this one and I'm happy she did, I got worried that everything felt rushed, so hopefully, y'all think it's up to par too! Sorry for rambling: enjoy!

Occasionally you would work at the Mostro Lounge to make some extra cash and occasionally you would get one of… the less unsavory customers who would bother you. But, usually, your boyfriend was there to run them off.

Unfortunately, at this point in time, Floyd was out with Jade and Azul (surprisingly) hunting down a customer to give them a “nice squeeze” (as Floyd likes to put it). So, you were on your own with this guy (and his cronies, ugh).

You breathe a sigh through your nose, feeling your blood boiling as your grip on your writing pad turns knuckle white as he makes another wolf call at you. The high pitched whistle cutting through the order of the customer that you were trying to get for the third time. “Hey, baby, why don’t you come back over here and talk to some real men?” This one’s voice is loud and nauseating and you have a sudden urge to throw the note pad at him and his cackling friends.

The Pomfiore student in front of you frowns and you’re almost afraid that they're going to get out of their seat and you were going to have to break up a fight. He sighs through his nose, repeating his order and you lean closer to him and tell him you’ll give him a discount. He smiles at you.

“Damn, look at that ass!” Another one yells, an awful voice crack breaking into his words. Despite it, he high fives the others like he had just said the best thing in the history of Twisted Wonderland.

You suck in another breath, shutting your eyes in barely contained fury.

“I’ll be back with your order, sir.”

He nods. “Hang in there.”

You smile at him, an inkling of annoyance straining at the back of your mind. I wouldn’t have to hang in there if one of you would do something. Or I could kill people.

Though… you glance at the group as you pass the order to the cooks in the kitchen: the three boys who were giggling amongst each other weren’t much to look at (thin, small- you could take them out if you really needed to thanks to getting out of Floyd’s hold so many times). The one that was worrying you was the one that was eyeing you like a piece of meat. The guy was big, almost as broad chested as the twins and just shy of being as tall as them; sharp toothed and slit pupils. You were almost inclined to believe that he stole that uniform from Diasomnia if his ears weren’t pointed.

Malleus would never stand for how they were acting.

I’ll have to talk to him. You huff, balancing the new tray of food on your shoulder and hand, making your way to the table that seats three Heartslabyul students, they eyed the rowdy group nervously and urged you to go around the side furthest from him. Which wasn’t very far, it was a booth right next to theirs. They take their order gratefully.

“Hey, what about us, pretty bird?” The guy finally called out to you, his voice ridiculously deep.

You want to hurl.

You plaster on the best smile you could despite the fury growing at the bottom of your gut and turn your attention to their booth. “Do you need something, sir?”

“Yeah.” He says, leaning on his elbows as he loosely holds the menu between his pointer finger and thumb. “A date. Me. You. This Saturday.”

This mother-

“I’m sorry, sir. That isn’t on the menu.”

“No one says no to me.”

His eyebrows raised before one of the guys piped up. “Do you not have any taste? Kylan’s one of the top students in Daisomnia- anyone would want to go on a date with him-”

“Well, then, he should go and find that ‘anyone’.” You're proud of the fact that you kept your smile on your face while addressing them. Even prouder of the gawking faces of the customers. What you didn’t account for was the darkening look on Kylan’s face as his blue eyes seemed to glow in a white rage.

“Well, I just did.”

God, Azul was going to have your head. Or maybe not. He had a soft spot for you. And this guy was an ass.

His hand shot out to wrap around your arm (a few cries from the other tables breaking through the adrenaline rush in your mind), yanking you to him until your noses almost brushed and you could smell the overpowering scent of his cologne. “No one-” the grip tightened and you winced- “says no to me.”

“L…” You gulped, trying to will your voice from wavering as you continue. “Let me go.”

“No one-”

“I don’t care if no one says no to you!” You snap, trying to tug your arm away from him despite his grip steadily growing tighter. “I said no! I have a boyfriend already who’s ten times better than you can ever hope to be- so let me fucking go!”

You shriek as your world whirls before your back makes contact with the table. Dishes breaking underneath your spine and one thought shines through as hands dart to hold you down and a chorus of yells and frantic movements sound from around you: I’m screwed.

And suddenly the Daisomnia student is yanked off of you and everything swells to a whole new kind of chaos as cheers blurred together with the sound of fists hitting skin rings out. You sit up (the three other boys having ran off) and look down to see Floyd throttling the fae- his fist a blur as he keeps colliding with his face. Kylan having no time to move aside from twitch at the sheer impacts of the hits.

More and more red specks flew into the air with every hit.

Jade frantically began to claw at Floyd’s clothes to pull him off of the fae, Azul rushing to help. They finally got him off of the barely moving student; he still strained against them to jump back on him until Azul whispered something in his ear and in that moment his eyes were on your dazed form.

Jade and Azul let him go and he rushed over to you. His hands immediately touch your face, his eyes round as he looks over you. He pulls you into a hug, shivering and mumbling mildly concerning things: “I’ll kill him.” and “I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll cut their arm off.”

“Floyd-” you whisper- “Floyd. I’m ok.” You squeeze him back as hard you can.

He suddenly bursts out laughing, squeezing you back. “Your squeezes are so soft, Angelfish!”

You sigh into his shoulder, basking in his presence, blocking out the angry yells of Azul as he scolds and threatens the group behind you.

You’re happy that Floyd was back.

<The Next Chosen Character>

Thank you for reading!

[waters-and-the-wilde]

okay expanded version of 'hypothetical next time on Second Citadel that now lives in my head rent-free’

Mira’s having a Real Tough Time trying to wrangle the un-retired knights, Sir Tristan as Exhibit A. her authority over them is slipping and pretty much the last thread of it is Sir Absolon still backing her up because as far as he’s concerned she is seeing reason and taking an appropriate course of action, and she’s been giving him significantly more clout because she knows that his influence is probably keeping her alive at this point. he’s very much one-of-them but in a conservative with a lowercase c mindset that still involves loyalty to the throne.

Sir Marc is pulled back on duty within the Citadel and may even have a bit of leadership and cred with the other knights at this point because now there’s a whole narrative around framing his attempts to get knighthood as ‘loyalty and dedication’ rather than ‘rampant ableism’. also early on not-sir-Marc spoke pretty good Knightly Bragging and he speaks Straight Guy so they kinda assume he’s like-minded

and now he really needs that assumption because the big-time knights are basically trying to induct him in their little club by playing on making him feel accepted by The Big Boys and making lots of promises because Big Changes are coming.

Sir Marc of Loves-His-Brother-and-Couldn’t-Kill-A-Half-Monster-Kid: ‘haha yeah sounds great guys’ *sweats*

there’s... potential I guess for what Caroline said about how ‘the knights fantasy works poison in the minds of the kindest men i’ve ever met’ but I think that even if he’s started slipping in the past few years, he’s got one or two things going for him: one is that he’s had his fight for recognition thrown back in his face two hundred times over and he knows better than most that these guys are full of shit, and two is that Tal is Immune To Propaganda

so like maybe he has one (1) inclination and then goes to Dampierre about it and Dampierre’s like ‘go ask your brother’ and Tal’s like ‘honestly these guys are kind of awful? and i didn’t want to get in the way of you having other friends but you realize this is why I don’t hang out with them too?’

‘you know what Tal you’re right this is weird and hey you know what else?? they told me not to tell you any of this and i’m pretty sure this is exactly why so thanks and also what the fuck do we do now’

so then Tristan shows up with Damien

and by this point Marc and Tal are just straight up spying on the other knights (Marc has one of Rilla’s recorders so he’s been trying to sneak it into meetings and stuff)

and Damien is wigged out because Rilla’s brother?? is helping these assholes?? and Marc’s like well somebody looks like he’s going to start crying any second, hey Tal don’t look now but I think this Sir Asshole must have threatened Rilla and Scales

and then Tristan catches Tal with the recording device behind a tapestry while he’s threatening Damien, and then he threatens Tal, and Damien’s like ‘oh St. Damien’ only the spirit of Sir Caroline comes to him speaking words of wisdom,  ‘you’re at the top of the Tower of Two Thousand Steps you idiot’

Part Two

as it turns out, Sir Tristan was supposed to send the signal for the knights to initiate the coup they were planning. it’s now in some disarray because whoever was watching for it saw a body fall and then Chivalry plunging after it, and also Sir Marc is trying to Don’t Be Suspicious about Snitching. then he hears about the signal and promptly loses his shit because oh god Tal was up there.

he breaks away from the other knights and races to the foot of the tower to check, and there’s Tal and Damien staring awkwardly at the body of Sir Tristan. yayyyy. Tal might be tentatively trying to bond with Chivalry who is beeping disconsolately over Sir Tristan. not the time honey. Marc maybe cries and tries to hug Damien, who is closer than Tal who is crouched on the ground holding a falcon and a dead mouse from Sir Tristan’s pockets. not the time honey. they fill him in on ‘guess who totally threatened Rilla and Scales and also Tal now’. Marc fills them in on ‘guess who was about to signal in an impending coup’

they agree to warn Mira out of what’s left of their professional courtesy. Damien goes because he also wants to tell her about Tristan and the pigeon. Tal and Marc to the stables to get horses and supplies to go on the run. Damien to his deep annoyance has no other choice but to extract Mira from the castle which the remaining knights have successfully overtaken. Sir Absolon actually aids her escape because he was never properly down with high treason

and then they have to go after whatever Sir Tristan’s big mission was. Mira now sitting in the consequences of her actions as the odd one out on this family road trip with where Marc and Damien are now competing for 'who can give the former queen a bigger earful’

*falcon noises, paper rustling*

Rilla v/o:

Dear Rilla,

Damien with me and Tal long story no time -- ARUM! GET IN HERE IT’S ABOUT DAMIEN! -- Killed the guy who threatened you and Scales and made him leave -- that’s... okay, it would have been something like that. Damien says -- too long no time the point is he’s sorry. Unrelatedly (mostly) Knights had a coup, queen deposed, saints above, Mira on the run with us, MIRA ON THE RUN WITH US??? Awkward -- underlined twice. For her anyway. (laughs) I should hope so. Will write again when able be careful knights might be coming not sure who else knows SAinTs aBoVE, mARc

Love, Not Sir Marc Anymore Now Also of Exile Looks like that’s everyone in the family now huh Dampierre says hi

[mrsgiovanna]

The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.

TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour

Word Count: 2.7k

Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.

You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.

Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.

Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.

“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.

“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.

In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.

“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.

“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”

“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.

“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.

“Don…”

“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”

“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”

“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.

“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.

You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.

“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.

“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.

“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.

“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”

“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”

“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.

“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”

“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.

“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”

“You… you threatened them all, you…”

“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”

“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”

“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”

“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.

“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…