#also she's angry at the moon and has been so for long

[kottkrig]

To Embrace The Shadow: Omen of Death

Sister Zala, a restless undead elf and the only one accustomed to the wilds, continues the search on her own.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Light Angst | Found Family

—————————–

Zala avoided other people in the coming days. The murderers had finally been dispatched, and she witnessed their leader die in the same inferno that he used on his victims, but vengeance wasn’t enough to calm her. He could have died a thousand deaths, and it still wouldn't be enough. Ater all of the bloodshed was over, and her ears were ringing from the silence that followed, she just felt hollow.

She would never be able to forget. They hurt what few friends she had, they scarred her reflection with holy fire, and in her time of need, took away the person she loved the most.

Out of the three, she had been the most eager to bring that invisible raven out of Lafayette’s vision, insisting that it must be a sign of the Shadow Mother. The others agreed with her, seeing no other explanation for its incredulous presence, but when they managed to coax the bird out, it snubbed them by escaping the forest. Returning home with nothing but another reminder of their loss, Zala left Lafayette and Cletus to their papers and prayers, while she slipped out into the night.

Being a restless young woman, she chose to continue the hunt alone. If anything, it was an excuse to distract her from nightmares about witnessing her mentor being immolated. As a ranger, most of her tasks were relegated to the outdoors, and people didn’t question her when she left for a while, as long as she eventually reported in. It usually took her mind off of things to scour Deathknell, but all that she could think about was that raven. It was too overt for it to just coincidentally be the only thing from the Void to watch over the lake.

Lafayette and Cletus kept their objective a secret, but days of nothing dragged on, and the two were talking about shifting focus when the raven was nowhere to be found. It was probably just some strange critter they took from its home realm, they told her, and it was now soaring freely on the mortal plane. Irresponsible if true, and out of their reach, regardless.

She was the only one who refused to sit still. She berated the others for being so placid, accusing them of giving up, but they reiterated that they were duty-bound men and worked on solving the mystery when they could. Cletus had become twice as busy, and Lafayette couldn't see most of the time, so she had to be their scout. The three of them were still a unit, and she was going to fill the role that only a ranger could play.

Zala watched the skies, convinced that the raven would show up. More days of scouring western Lordaeron, more nights of returning home with nothing to show for, except bags of nature’s resources to cover her tracks. She was getting increasingly disheartened.

Until one night, when she finally found it. The raven had chosen a branch high above her usual route, as if it was waiting for her. That was what she told herself, at least. She didn’t try to capture it. Although undead now, Zala was still an elf, and knew best to be careful with nature and its inhabitants. But in her mind, this was no ordinary bird. It must be smarter than just walking into her simple traps.

She wanted the raven to know that she was there for it, but she was running out of excuses to constantly leave the village, and couldn’t afford to lose her quarry. She tried speaking to it, addressed it as she would her mentor–minn’do–and while it didn’t respond, it didn’t fly off either. Every time she could head outside, she found the raven, watching her. She was allowed to get closer with time, sitting under the trees where it rested, but when it was offered her hand, it shied away. Zala respected its space. Frustrated as she was, she kept on trying. In her eyes, this was the furthest any of them had gotten.

When it was close enough, she noticed that the raven had indigo eyes, and she could sense the familiar presence of the Shadow on it. The clergy often used ravens as representative motifs, or they were manifested through their spellwork; Zala had conjured Shadow Ravens herself in the past, utilizing them for her practice.

The bird didn’t make as much as a single croak, but it stayed with her longer and longer. It must be a sign. Minn’do must be using them to catch Zala’s attention, and it worked. Her determination was showing progress!

More days passed. The ranger would regularly run through the woods around Deathknell, and the raven would follow. Zala smiled with all of her fangs on display when it trusted her enough to join her patrols. She dashed past the mine to the northwest and headed for the hills, using her catlike agility to swing herself up a tree that reached high above the valley. Choosing a sturdy branch, she sat with her back against the trunk and her legs swinging in the breeze. The raven landed a few steps further out.

They watched over Lordaeron together. This land had become her home, one that she chose herself, among people who spitefully prided themselves on being anomalies. The Forsaken were a strange people, known to be leery and macabre, but they were traits that she shared with them. She wasn’t comfortable with all of them–especially not the military–and Lordaeronian forests were measly compared to Kalimdor, but she had come to like the creepiness. The other undead elves she met here were more relatable than any living.

Zala was unlucky in life and never found kinship with other Kaldorei. Many tearful days she left behind her, enraged over the injustice of being born under a roof where you had to be loud to be seen. She was made to worship a goddess that picked favorites even among her favored people, and Zala was not one of those privileged few.

She knew that she wasn’t easy to love. Her limited control had her berated, ignored or thrown out, until she couldn’t take it anymore and stopped begging for scraps of approval. At times, she didn’t even mean to act out, feeling as if she was piloting a body that defied her will, and her living family chose their deity above their difficult daughter. Love, as she knew it, was conditional. When she became undead during the Fourth War, little of value was lost, as no one would be missing her.

All of this, she had confided in Mother Lucretia, and with the matron’s guidance, the elf found comfort in a different kind of darkness. There was no conditional love from the Shadow of the Void; it wasn’t a prejudiced deity. It just was. Endless, chaotic, unforgiving. Anyone could behold the maddening abyss, but you had to work on your resilience against its whispers to tap into it. Zala often struggled, but she had a patient mentor; and at last, she had something to work for. Someone to make proud.

All of this, she retold for the attentive raven. Every time she reminisced on her life, the pain was becoming less difficult to deal with, as she now had a family who accepted her flaws. Despite their promises, however, she was worried that their patience would inevitably run out.

Confessing her woes brought a lump to her throat. She was robbed of her minn’do‘s guidance, and she was drained from trying so hard all the time. Practicing the Forgotten Shadow’s second tenet, Tenacity, was exhausting when she feared disappointment wherever she went. She cursed under her breath and descended the tree. She had to return to the clergy with another empty report, and while each failure hurt, she was going to force herself to keep trying. Minn’do would have encouraged her to keep trying.

Zala jumped when the raven flapped down right next to her. She offered her arm, and the bird landed face to face with her.

Indigo eyes met her red. This was the first time that they had come in direct contact. It leaned forward and inclined its head. Zala felt compelled to do the same, and the raven closed the distance by connecting its forehead with hers.

Then, she heard it. It was quiet and weaker than she knew, but it was unmistakable. Inside her mind, the Shadow reciprocated her tenacity, and returned to her the voice that she had been chasing day and night.

“Thank you, Sister.”

[purplekissinger]

I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then!  Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a  “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?”  Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N  looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her. 

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request.  “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and  even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

[wakkass]

I usually try to write neutral captions for my ATLA drawings, but this time I want to share my disappointment with this cartoon.

At first it was supposed to be a slight redesign of Katara from book 3. I don't really like her blue dress from there, and I tried to draw certain elements differently to understand what exactly bothered me. I like the result, especially her sleeves and the fabric on her arms. I also wanted to draw a crescent moon on her forehead because book 3 forgot that the Water Tribe paints their faces before battle. I wanted to give Katara something related to her personal experience, so imho she would have a crescent moon on her forehead in the invasion.

And then I started thinking about her hair (I ended up using the hairstyle from this post). It always confused me that in the first episode of season 3 Katara had her signature braid, because she lost her clips at the end of season 2. Where did the new ones come from? Does she have a whole set of spare ones? Or did father give it to her? I don’t understand, so I think that her hairstyle in book 3 could be completely different from the look we are used to.

Then I asked myself: what would she look like in the first episode if her hairstyle had been changed? You can see the answer for yourself. Frayed curls, an almost untied bun, a tired look… This is how I felt about Katara at the beginning of the season and… I was furious.

Why doesn't she look like this? Why wasn't she allowed to show her fatigue? Yes, her clothes are still torn and unkempt, but neither her face nor her hair reflect her condition, why? Were the authors afraid to show that Katara also has limits?

Girls are not required to look beautiful and well-groomed, especially when they are tired. It makes me so angry that after her witnessing the death of a dear friend, escaping on a ship, caring for a sick boy for a long time, and then his screaming and running away, Katara looks the same as always. She is not tired, she is still ready to support the main character and run to the ends of the earth for him.

?!??!

But ok, maybe this is just the beginning, and we'll be shown reaching Katara's limits in the next episo-

…

Oh, she is now completely neat and well-groomed so that the boy can admire her beauty…

It doesn't sound very good, to be honest. I don’t want to insult the ship or the main character, we’re not talking about them now. I'm talking about the very message where the girl is beautiful and mentally stable when it is convenient for the boy. That is, imagine if Katara looked at that moment about the same as in my drawing. Would he like her in this state? I don't know, because I haven't seen Aang admire Katara beyond the peak of her beauty. Also, I didn’t see him admiring her with disheveled hair, for example, or in action scenes. It’s not that it’s the characters’ fault, but rather that the authors rarely allow Katara herself to be like this, especially at the end of the adventure, where she clearly has little moral strength.

Feels like the message is that in a man's eyes, a woman is only beautiful when she dresses up and hides her flaws. As if fatigue is something that needs to be hidden behind a sweet smile and a beautiful outfit.

Maybe I'm not right. Please don't take my words as an insult to something you enjoy, but that is my interpretation of what is happening. This is a problem for me, because the topic of female fatigue in my eyes is as important as female strength. And if the series shows Katara's strength, it seems to ignore her fatigue.

This is just an opinion, I don't claim anything.

[libraryofgage]

Steddie PJO AU Part One

One (1) person asked for this, and it was only after I told them I'd had an idea, so, like, fuck it we ball.

The parents of the various kids will be revealed as the series goes on, but I'll look forward to your guesses along the way!

Also, I haven't read the books in a hot fucking minute, but the trailer has had me in a chokehold. This is written more for fun than anything else, so just shut off your brain and enjoy the ride without thinking about accuracy. You'll love it, I promise!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

With a low, frustrated growl, Eddie tears a page out of his notebook, crumples it into a ball, and throws it on the floor of his tent. All he gets for his troubles is another page of lyrics underneath the first that fail to actually do what he wants. "Fucking shit prophecy," he mutters, tearing that page out, too.

It hits the ground right as Chrissy pokes her head into the tent. She watches it bounce once before settling on the ground. "How's the songwriting?" she jokes, letting the tent's flap fall shut behind her.

"Bad," Eddie says, dropping the notebook and standing. He glares at the paper balls and kicks one away. "Just as bad as the prophecy itself."

"Aww, it's not that bad," Chrissy says, walking a little closer and playfully punching Eddie's arm. Her smile is bright enough to make Eddie feel like he needs sunglasses, and that isn't even because Chrissy's father is Apollo. That's just all her. "At least your prophecy doesn't promise, you know, horrible death."

Eddie scoffs, turning to look at Chrissy as he gestures at his Def Leppard shirt and torn jeans and chunky rings and general metalhead vibe. "Do I look like someone who should be getting that prophecy?" he asks.

He doesn't wait for her to answer before scrunching his face and reciting in a high, mocking voice, "You shall witness an unfair fight between land and sky where feathers with great reluctance fly. And as the sun is shining bright, you shall be swaying in the moon's sweet light."

By the time he's done, he's clasped his hands and held them up to his face with an exaggerated doe-eyed expression. Eddie drops it the moment he finishes, his nose scrunching in disgust as he rolls his eyes. "I have a reputation to uphold, Chrissy."

She doesn't take his complaints seriously. Instead, Chrissy rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of Eddie's cot. "Sure, sure, you're too cool for anything good to happen to you. Still, you might be better off if you didn't try turning that prophecy into something angry."

Eddie huffs, kicks another paper ball, and drops to a crouch next to the cot. After a few seconds, he begrudgingly admits, "Yeah, maybe."

Chrissy sympathetically pats his head, her touch warm and light, and smiles at him. "In other news, we've got another retrieval request for you," she says.

"Oh, boy, work."

"C'mon, you enjoy them," Chrissy says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. "A cyclops sighted some demigod kids running around with, well, she wasn't sure if he was also a demigod or not. But they won't be safe long when they're clustered together like that, so, go bring 'em back."

She passes Eddie the piece of paper and watches as he unfolds it and frowns at the two words written there: "Athens, Tennessee."

"Are you kidding me? That's so cliche," Eddie says.

"Yeah, but at least it's not California or something."

"Thank fuck for small miracles," Eddie mutters, folding up the paper again and shoving it into his pocket.

Looks like he's got packing to do.

The sun is shining, birds are tweeting, and a cool wind is blowing across the park. Steve lets out a slow breath, his shoulders starting to relax as he leans against a tree and watches Will and Lucas lay out a few blankets, Mike and Dustin get into an argument about the scale proportions of the Parthenon, and Max, Erica, and El throw a frisbee between them.

It's been a long month, one that seemed to be filled with more running and near-death experiences than they're used to. And they're used to a lot of running and near-death experiences.

So, taking a day to just relax in the park sounded great when El suggested it, but Steve had still hesitated. Who knows what could find them if they linger in a park too long. When he voiced these concerns, the kids just banded together to convince Steve, and he relented when they compromised on him bringing the nail bat along.

"Steve, do you wanna lay down?" Lucas asks, gesturing to the blankets. Will is already there, stretched out and smiling up at a rainbow stretching across the sky.

Steve joins them, pulls a Bluetooth speaker out of one of the backpacks holding the blankets down, and connects his phone. Music starts playing, and he sprawls across a blanket, pillowing his head on his arms and taking in the sunshine. "You know, this is nice," he says.

"Yeah. We should do this more often," Will whispers, nearly drowned out by the grass rustling in the breeze.

Between the breeze and the music, Steve starts to drift off, his breathing evening out as his mind wanders. He's half asleep when he hears Dustin shout, "It's a fucking one-to-one asshole!"

His words are quickly followed by Mike shouting back, "Who gives a shit?!"

Steve sighs and adds his own voice to the mix. "Stop fighting!"

"Yeah, guys, stop fighting," Max says, and Steve can imagine her tongue sticking out at them as he hears Erica snort.

"Oh, fuck you," Dustin shoots back.

"That's it!" Steve announces, sitting up and glaring at the kids. "Get over here."

His voice leaves no room for argument, and he'd feel bad at how the kids deflate if he didn't already know they're all menaces. Once he's got all seven kids on the blankets, he sighs and says, "Look, guys, let's not fight. How about we all just sit here for a bit, enjoy the breeze, and then we'll go get lunch."

The kids glance at each other, a silent conversation that Steve barely follows passing between them before Mike nods. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"Great, now, just re--"

"Oh, how cute!"

The sudden, saccharine voice sets Steve's entire body on edge. He slowly looks over his shoulder, staring at the middle-aged woman smiling down at them. Something about her is familiarly off, but he tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. So, Steve flashes a charming smile and asks, "Hi, can I help you with something?"

The woman's smile turns a little sharp, and she shakes her head. "Oh, no, I just had to commend you on your ability to round up these kids like that," she explains.

Steve hums and pushes himself up, keeping a hold on his bat so he can rest the end on the ground and lean on it. He feels more than sees the kids start to shift until they're behind him. "Well, thanks. Did you want advice or something on caring for your own kids?" he asks.

She laughs, short and grating on Steve's ears, and then tilts her head not unlike a bird. "No, no. It's just impressive that you've managed to keep them alive for so long," she says, her voice distorting and becoming shriller as she speaks.

Yep. There it is.

"Wow, that's even faster than usual," Lucas says.

He's right, which just makes Steve even more upset. Can he not get more than fifteen minutes of peace? Can he not just lay back and enjoy the sunshine without worrying about some monster coming after his kids? Can he not fucking relax for once?

Steve feels the frustration build and build in his chest, crackling through him until he's ready to burst, and he stands up straighter. "I'll give you one warning," he says, his voice low as he watches feathers sprout from the woman's skin. "You walk away right now, and I won't beat the shit out of you."

The woman, who seems to be mostly bird by now and is probably a harpy, just laughs again, like Steve's told her the funniest joke she's ever heard. "You? Defeat me?" she asks, her eyes roaming over Steve before she laughs again. "I am worse than your nightmares. I have eaten more demigods than you can count. I have feasted on their screams and crunched their bones between my teeth, and I look forward to doing the same with these children. What could a lone son of some lesser god possibly do to stop me?"

From behind him, Steve hears a few of the kids inhale sharply, an almost sympathetic sound. "Well, she's done it now," Erica says.

"Yes. Steve is going to kill her," El agrees, her voice soft and brushing against Steve's ears like a tiny snake.

And yeah, they're right. Maybe Steve would have just beaten her unconscious and then gotten the hell out of dodge, but now she's threatened his kids. She's lost any chance at mercy from him.

With a twirl of his bat and a vicious grin, Steve rolls his shoulders back and says, "Wanna find out, overgrown chicken?" he asks.

He doesn't even bother waiting for an answer before swinging his bat, the nails dragging across the harpy's chest and ripping a shriek from her. Now that Steve is thinking about it, violence is also a great way to relieve stress, and he's certainly not going to look a gift harpy in the mouth.

----

If you'd like to be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

hi✨adore your thoughts and headcanons to the moon and back with how detailed and in character they are. dark!percy has always been incredibly alluring and fascinating, so I was wondering about your presentation/analysis of him. if you're comfortable (if not, it's totally okay and just ignore it!), could you write percy and child of any "dark" like hades, or hecate, nyx (or whoever) god, who understands how scary and tough it can be when you and your powers are so destructive, and they help him to kinda adjust to this side of him and understand that he isn't a bad person for that (cause this guy already has a lot of self hatred). maybe kinda chaotic dumbass enemies to lovers? sfw or nswf - whatever works for you. sorry for this ramble! just so many thoughts about him...

hope you have a good time of a day🤟

DARK!Percy headcanons

authors note: Can I just say, I've been WAITING for a question like this. More Dark Percy headcanons everyone!! plss!!

warnings: mentions of abuse & neglect, suicidal and intrusive thoughts, impulsive thoughts, mentions of eating disorder, chaotic family life, Gabe Ugliano...

okay, this is a mixture of headcanons of his CHILDHOOD but also an ANALYSIS of DARK PERCY.

cigarette burns from Gabe. Not just because Gabe did it, some of Gabes older friends (a long time ago, before the lightning theaf book) told Percy to come closer and burnt it into his forearm. Gabes eyes turned into shock but then he poked a tongue in his cheek and scoffed in laughter, giving Percy a judgemental look - *its a classic look, the type of look you give someone when you're looking down on them.

Percy would be so angry at Gabe, sometimes he would snap and tell him to shut up because Gabe would watch TV late in the night and fall asleep with the TV on until morning. At some point, Percy opened the door and screamed on the top of his lungs to shut the fuck up, slamming the door, sleep deprived and exhausted, locking the bedroom door bc he was scared Gabe would do something - and sobbed loudly. He was just a kid, but he already learnt how to fight. Sally tried to give reassurance but Percy wouldnt open the door. The incident was deemed "nightmares" on Percy's part, and Sally let him sleep in her bed.

Sally and Gabe never shared a bed. Gabe snores, sometimes even has nightmares, other time she would bother Sally about a new babyboy they could have, as if Percy wasn't good enough to be his son.

One time Sally asked Percy if he ever wanted siblings. the truth is, yes, but with Gabe Ugliano? no way. fuck no. He said no in a really moody and almost bitchy way, and walked out of the house and went to school.

Percy had the habit of keeping his shoulders scrunched up when he slept. He still does, but he doesn't understand why his body tenses up when he sleeps - Gabe isn't there anymore.

He also had the habit of lowering his head, shoulders and hunching when he walked - but once he met Annabeth over the summer he kept his back more straight - and never hanged his head when he walked. He noticed and felt more relief.

When people asked what he was doing for the summer, weight was lifted off his shoulders when he said SUMMER CAMP - finally he had something to do during summer! Every kid in school went somewhere nice, now even Percy does. He felt like he could finally share a bit of the same intrests as everyone else. He could actually tell people about his summer.

You know when the teacher forces everyone to tell a little bit about their summer - now finally percy could say confidendtly he did somethign fun instead of making something up.

struggles with anger, but understand it got so bad he broke his own first laptop 3.5months of having it - he broke the screen in half with his bare hands. He regretted it so much and hid it but his Sally found out.

Regrettfully, this made Percy believe he would always ruin/sabotage things for himself, and that he doesn't deserve nice things. Letting his mother buy his clothes, never aksing for new clothes... whats the point?

Besides, Gabe was stingy with his money. Gabe even refused to buy shampoo which is stupid cause its cheap asf - but Gabe wanted the feeling of control.

the dynamic of the family and house changed. The living room was Gabes, not Sally and Percy's spot. Gabe even took Percy's side of the couch and his spot at the dining table. Percy stubbornly refused to move, but Gabe is scary and big for his size so he did it to be civil for his mother. He felt like he lost something that day.

When Gabe was out late, Percy would lock the door and put the chain on. Gabe would unlock the door and try to get inside, but the chain stopped him. Gabed huffed in frustration and Sally had to get up and open the door - which burned Percys heart because he realized that nothing could keep Gabe out.

Percy would generally be a very bitter person to be around, people would shy away from him and sometimes stop talking when he tried to join in.

self image, self-confidence and self respect was low. But actually scratch that, his self respect was high. he put boundaries down pretty fast with other people because he knew everything that gabe did was no, and everything that sally did was yes. but at some point he disliked Sallys touch just slightly bit, because he knew Gabe had held her hand earlier.

he would talk to sally for hours on the couch, but as soon as the door clicked opened he walked to his room and closed the door. He didnt want to be near gabe. but then gabe started to trash his room, and percy was basically forced to sit in the living room.

he felt like he was playing "family" or pretending everything was okay, as if Gabe wasn't neglectful, but he felt sick.

At some point Percy's anxiety and stress because to normalized within himself that he nowadays cant tell what anxiety even is - and he would sometimes even say hes never had anxiety, because its basically been with him from such a young age, he cant tell the difference.

pretending to be "family" was even worse walking around the mall with sally and gabe. gabe was just this big giant slob of goo that would follow everywhere, and gabe would even huff and puff shamelessly if they were taking too long. gabe even got angry if sally found something nice for herself, he was possesive.

started taking only an apple with him to lunch, 1. he thought he was fat. 2. gabe wouldnt buy anything he liked and they had to stick with the basics. 3.his lunch was embarrassing even though everyone ate cafeteria food.

he got so happy the first time he could bring something "normal" to eat or if he got money to buy lunch, his reason being that he could finally "blend in" insteading standing out as a "freak".

he has a burn mark on the backside of his ankle, near his achillies, burn himself bc of Gabe.

hates it if someone traces the cigarette scars on his arm, even hates it if Annabeth does it - he still struggles with his self image and probably wont like that part of himself until he grows old and gray.

one time he vented to someone about his childhood and they stopped talking to him. never spoke ever since, was afraid that someone would use it against him. hasn't even told his mom or sally half of the things Gabe said or did to him/behind his back.

one time gabe pissed on the clothes percy was wearing but blaimed it on percy. ofc his mother believed percy but it was still shameful for percy.

in second book of sea of monsters, a kid asked if percy let his mother buy his clothes - actually stopped letting his mother buy clothes for him after that.

he would naturally adopt people that were outcasts and be a friend - because people were rarely there for him when he needed it.

needs validation, but couldnt get it from school. his friends would praise him but he could barely accept those compliments because at the end of the day he was still a loser too.

his mother would be his studdy buddy, and tried to help percy with homework - but still found everything hard.

gabe got angry with percy would "dirtying everything" but Gabes the only reason why his mom has to clean daily.

Dark Percy would definitely develop from a young age, but it became a lot more present behind the scene of the books.

he desires comofort, safety and a space where he can be himself without having to walk on his toes around the place.

Honestly, NSFW

He suppresses his moans because he was used to being quiet when he was around Gabe.

He has jacked off quietly, watched any videos quietly, no sound and even with headphones get sscared that someone might hear.

One time he stayed up late bc of whatever reasons and his stepfather Gabe yelled "GO TO BED", the next morning Gabe complained about how loud Percy was when Percy was away at school (this was early middle school, school wasnt that far away). And his mother Sally defended him and said she believes that Percy goes to bed when he should/when she tells him to, this made Percy feel bad so he went to bed on time every since, or at least tried too. If he ever stayed up, he learn how to breathe quietly too.

The feeling of shame for touching yourself, feeling pleasure, and arousal was strongly in him from a certain age - Gabe's influence for even trying to be HAPPY or LAUGHING with his mother made him feel shame for any good feeling sexual or not.

[youremyheaven]

Mars, Sex & Celibacy

i have wanted to make this post for a long time and this may probably be my last post of 2023. (edit: this is my first post of 2024 lol)

earlier i had briefly mentioned about Mars and its relationship with celibacy and sex.

I had spoken about how Mars makes the native crave carnality and not sensuality. Its also telling how Mars is associated with impulsiveness, fieriness and passion but Mars also makes natives prone to abstinence, restraint and reluctance.

Mars is often interpreted to be explosive with its energy but while that may be the case in other areas, when it comes to sex and relationships, these natives have a tendency to restrain themselves a lot. This could be due to many different reasons. ive noticed a tendency for many natives to self reject or co-opt out of the system instead of playing it at all because they're afraid of being rejected or not being good enough (Mars influence and even disproportionate Venus influence can manifest as deformity/ugliness or make someone feel like they're not good enough) but a strong Mars can manifest differently. Mars is the soldier and is the planet of aggression, therefore they tend to be natural leaders and leaders are ones who set the standard for others, they naturally think of others as being a few rungs below them since they're always on command mode.

Mars is the master however, so Mars influence makes a native exercise immense self control. Its VERY easy for them to shun certain things and abstain entirely. Mars natives are very disciplined and are almost Saturnian (a good/stabilized Saturn influence that is) in terms of their work ethic. Its interesting because even though Saturn is associated with hard work, discipline etc it often manifests as laziness, sluggishness etc because the extremes of anything is a meeting point with its opposite. They are prone to feeling burnt out.

Adriana Lima, Mrigashira Sun, Chitra Moon was a virgin until she was 27 years old and married.

She was a bikini model since she was a teenager but she chose to abstain from sex until she was married. I'm not saying the two are contradictory but its unusual in the sense that its not something that's expected from someone in her position as one of the sexiest women alive.

random observation but Mars rules over eyebrows and gives its natives very thick lush eyebrows with no arch that are a standout feature and thick dark eyebrows are considered a sign of sexual maturity which makes sense consider the over sexualization of Mars natives

Brooke Shields, has Mrigashira Moon & Venus as well as Rohini Sun (Rohini & Mrigashira have similar themes and often manifest as incestual/sexual abuse, stalking, obsession etc in the lives of its natives).

She was pushed into acting and fame by her abusive, controlling mother at a young age and was very sexualized by the public and media even as a child. She has talked about how obsessed her mother was with her and how she remained a virgin until she was 22years old despite being a hugely renowned sex symbol for most of her life.

Drew Barrymore, Mrigashira Rising

Drew grew up with a mother who was obsessive & controlling with her and almost grew up too fast before turning to a playful and childlike personality as an adult.

She also spoke about how she's been celibate since her 2016 divorce. She also underwent a breast reduction in her 20s because she did not like being sexualized by men.

This interview where Drew & Brooke talk about their mothers is so Mrigashira coded, its especially telling when Brooke says that despite everything they've been through neither of them emerged from it "jaded" or "angry".

I've noticed this with a lot of Mrigashira natives, they have very playful, happy go lucky personalities despite all the abuse and trauma they've endured.

There is an unhappy pattern in the lives of many Mrigashira natives of having been subject to incestual abuse or sexual abuse as children.

Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen have Mrigashira Sun and although there is no actual evidence of it, there are many speculations as to whether they were subject to abuse as children and their subsequent withdrawal from public life as adults only added fuel to the rumours.

Many child stars who gain notoriety or are sexualized from a very young age tend to have Mrigashira placements or other Mars ruled naks in their big 3.

Judy Garland, Mrigashira Sun & Mercury

It is very well known how she was exploited by her mother who gave her "performer pills" to keep her awake and then to help her sleep, all before she turned 10 years old.

Shirley Temple, the OG child star had Mrigashira Moon, she was severely abused, exploited and overworked since childhood.

Natalie Portman has Mrigashira Sun and she's talked about how being sexualized as a child made her relationship with her sexuality very fraught.

“Being sexualised as a child, I think, took away from my own sexuality because it made me afraid and it made me like the way I could be safe was to be like, ‘I’m conservative,’ and ‘I’m serious and you should respect me,’ and ‘I’m smart,’ and ‘Don’t look at me that way.'”- Natalie Portman

Many famous women and men who have either very few sexual partners or lose their virginities later in life or wait until marriage often have Mars ruled nakshatras.

Tina Fey lost her virginity at the age of 24 to the man who would become her husband. She has Chitra Moon

Jessica Alba, Dhanishta Moon said this:

"I didn't really [seriously] go out with any guys until I was 18 and met my ex-fiancé, Michael Weatherly,"

"It just didn't work out. I was so young, 18, when I started dating him. I was a virgin. I knew I wanted to be in love with the first person I slept with, because for almost everyone I knew, the first experience made them feel like shit," she continued. "So I wanted to be really careful that he was going to be in love with me and wasn't just going to leave me."

Celine Dion, Ketu in Chitra lost her virginity to her husband Rene Angelil.

Courteney Cox, Mrigashira Sun, lost her virginity at the age of 21

Another nakshatra(s) that I've often noticed coming up in the charts of many people who are sexually conservative or have traditional values is Punarvasu and Pushya.

Tamera Mowry waited until she was 29 to have sex and then felt guilty about it and was celibate until she got married. She has Punarvasu Sun (amatyakaraka) and Jupiter in Punarvasu (atmakaraka) along with Moon & Mercury in Pushya

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu Moon & Pushya Rising dated her now husband for 3 years before marrying him and they waited until they were married to have sex.

"Not until after we get married," she said "He is very traditional. We can't … I mean we're just … waiting."

Jennifer Lawrence, Mrigashira Moon has said this:

"I always talk like I want d---, but the truth is when I look back at my sexual past it was always with boyfriends," the actress told The Sun. "I am mostly also a germaphobe. I have made it this far without an STI. D--- is dangerous. If I was at the point where I could get an STI, doctors have already been involved. That is how much of a germaphobe I am."

She has admitted to never having had casual sex and has often been subject to stalking, and following the leak of her private pictures, she's talked about how violated she feels about the whole experience. All of these are themes that manifest in the lives of many Mrigashira natives.

Jessica Simpson, Punarvasu Sun & Mercury was a virgin until she married her husband Nick Lachey when she was 21

Justin Bieber, Chitra Moon, Dhanishta Mercury & Mars went through a period of celibacy and waited until marriage to have sex with Hailey.

“[God] doesn’t ask us not to have sex for him because he wants rules and stuff. He’s like, I’m trying to protect you from hurt and pain. I think sex can cause a lot of pain. Sometimes people have sex because they don’t feel good enough. Because they lack self-worth. Women do that, and guys do that. I wanted to rededicate myself to God in that way because I really felt it was better for the condition of my soul. And I believe that God blessed me with Hailey as a result,”

Kevin Jonas, Mercury & Mars in Chitra was a virgin until he married his wife when he was 20.

Lady Gaga, Mrigashira Rising once said:

"I don’t really have sex. I’m quite celibate now," she went on, "I don’t really get time to meet anyone. don’t trust anybody. And I don’t know if I ever will. But it’s okay. It’s the trade-off."

While revealing that she was 'perpetually lonely' when it comes to relationships, Gaga also understood that it's her 'condition as an artist'.

"I also think I’m afraid of depleting my energy. I have this weird thing that if I sleep with someone they’re going to take my creativity from me through my vagina."

the story of Rapunzel is intricately connected to Mrigashira.

we're familiar with how Rapunzel is held captive in a tower with an evil witch pretending to be her mother gaslighting her into thinking the outside world isn't safe enough for her to navigate, the myth behind Mrigashira nakshatra is of how Brahma tries to have an incestuous relationship with his favourite daughter Rohini who tries to escape this by leaving heaven behind and coming down to earth and taking the form of a deer. This deer is Mrigashira.

due to this background, Mrigashira natives often spend their lives running from things or feeling like they're being chased. Being gaslit is also (unfortunately) a big theme because they're running away from their home where they were being abused and its looked down upon as them misbehaving or causing trouble because its considered taboo to run away from your home. even though they're the victim they're constantly gaslit into thinking otherwise. this is the reason why so many Mrigashira natives stay in abusive relationships/homes for far too long.

in Tangled, Rapunzel is voiced by Mandy Moore who is Mrigashira Rising

in the movie A Beautiful Mind, Jennifer Connelly, Mrigashira Moon plays the wife of an economist with schizophrenia. She initially believes that his hallucinations are real and only learns of his condition much later and even though her and her baby's safety is under threat she still chooses to stay by his side and support him.

Jim Carrey, Mrigashira Moon plays the titular Truman in the movie The Truman Show where a man unbeknownst to him is a character on a show that is telecast to the world.

Being gaslit and struggling to fully understand the nature of reality is a common theme in the lives of many Mrigashira natives.

Returning to the theme of how sexualized Martian women tend to be, here are several examples:

They tend to be so sexualized by others that they feel cut off from their sexuality themselves, i.e, it does not feel safe to indulge in pleasure.

Jennifer Lawrence, Mrigashira Moon

"Anybody can go look at my naked body without my consent, any time of the day,” she says. “Somebody in France just published them. My trauma will exist forever.” She shakes it off with a wincing grin. “Have you ever wanted to be an actress?”

Pamela Anderson, Mrigashira Rising

Her sextape was stolen from her house and circulated widely and later on a biopic about her and Tommy was made which portrayed her in the worst possible light. She has been deprived of autonomy over her own narrative.

Another thing to keep in mind is how Mrigashira is the only Deva gana nak among the Mars ruled nak, both Chitra & Dhanishta are Rakshasa gana and as such they feel little shame or guilt in owning and embracing all aspects of their sexuality.

Here's an example of Amber Rose, Chitra Sun who was similarly sexualized and slut shamed by the media and she had a vastly different response that some of the above mentioned women who sort of went incognito and dialled down on things:

"I just got to a point where people were saying: “She’s sex, she’s a slut, she’s a ho, she’s this, she’s that…” and I thought, okay, well I’m going to piss you off even more and come out with a sex toy line. There you go people, you can have that. You get to a point where you literally can’t give a shit and live your best life."

Kim Cattrall, Dhanishta moon

“It was so much fun to leave behind this kind of sexual icon thing. I was so ready to shed it. I’ve been sexualised since a very early part of my career. I understand it, I’ve made it work for me, but I’ve always felt that I’m a character actress stuck inside a leading lady’s body. Now, I feel like I am doing my best work.”

Look at how different their responses are in comparison to many Mrigashira natives.

Many Martian women attain fame and notoriety for their bodies and sex appeal

Kate Upton, Sun & Venus in Mrigashira

Marilyn Monroe was Dhanishta Moon

Kat Dennings, Mrigashira Sun

Dita Von Teese, Mrigashira Moon

Claudia Schiffer, Mrigashira Moon

Candace Swanepoel, Chitra Sun

Ashley Graham, Dhanishta Moon

Denise Richards, Dhanishta Sun

Ariel Winter, Dhanishta Moon

Carrie Fisher, Chitra Sun

Jennifer Garner, Mrigashira Moon

In 2013, Jennifer gave a testimony to the California legislature about her experience and urged them to pass a bill that would grant children some protections from paparazzi. That bill ultimately passed. She has talked extensively about being stalked and how she lives with a lot of anxiety because of it.

Sandra Bullock, Dhanishta Moon , with Mrigashira stellium (inc Rising) experienced a horrifying home invasion in 2014 when a stalker broke into her house. He killed himself in 2018. She's had multiple stalkers and has chosen to live a very lowkey life to protect the privacy and safety of herself and her family.

Nadya Suleman better known as Octomum is a Dhanishta Rising and became notorious for her brief tryst with porn stardom and posing nude along with working as a stripper after initially becoming infamous for having octuplets.

Janis Joplin, Dhanishta Rising grew up in a conservative household and ran away to San Francisco as an adult where she entered a relationship with a man who soon left her. As he was walking away from her, Janis literally grabbed his leg and was dragged along the way. At that very moment, she decided she would never again beg for love.

“I’d’ve fucked anything, taken anything…I did. I’d take it, suck it, lick it, smoke it, shoot it, drop it, fall in love with it….”

"My music isn’t supposed to make you wanna riot! My music is supposed to make you wanna fuck!”

I mention these two as examples for how Dhanishta natives are examples of the type of Martian women who don't feel guilty about their desires or urges and refuse to be shamed for it; they may be hypersexual or chaste but they do not let others tell them what to do.

......................

This post is a bit all over the place but I hope you'll excuse that, I wanted to talk about the relationship with sex, sexuality (among other things) that Mars natives have, I feel like went into several different tangents but :/

I hope this was informative and interesting.

Happy New Year!! <333

[duchess-of-mandalore]

I cannot tell you how over-the-two-moons-of-Mandalore I am about the Bo-Katan we got in “The Mines of Mandalore.” While I was hoping they’d treat her character with nuance and not make her a villain, I did expect that they’d immediately set her up as an antagonist to Din’s story. I also expected that we’d pick up in Season 3 with a Bo who was angry, frustrated, despondent, rude, and impulsive and I was ready to defend every one of those emotions.

I never expected the Bo we got in this episode.

She’s fierce and tough, depressed and hurting, but then we also get these sad smiles and longing looks and these beautiful moments where her gentler side comes through.

She’s wields the Darksaber with skill and precision and the expertise that comes with both practice and willingness to connect with the saber the way Kanan taught Sabine to do. That’s her sword.

But she’s honorable. She could have killed Din (or at least let him die) several times over. She could have taken the Darksaber. She could be bitter about the fact that he has it. 

Instead, we see her wield the Darksaber as an expert, and then place it back on the ground with the rest of Din’s weapons. 

I was scared we’d get a Bo that disregarded her character development in Rebels, but she’s proven that she’s still committed to fighting honorably for her people, just as she told Sabine to do.

And she’s just so ... beautifully soft.

We saw Bo be soft so rarely in TCW and Rebels, but Katee is leaning into giving Bo that gentle side.

Her immediate concern when Grogu shows up alone and willingness to go find his dad even though at first she’d been like “It’s Din Djarin. Let’s get rid of him once and for all.”

Each and every time she talks to Grogu, she’s so tender and calm. She encourages him when he’s scared and pushes his pram out of the way when she senses danger. She talks to him and knows he understands and tells him at least generally about the connection she’s had to Jedi in her life.

(In short, Bo loves babies!)

The way Grogu looks at her tells me he already likes and trusts her.

Plus she’s saved his dad several times now.

To be clear, I’m sure there’s going to be tension going forward, and I don’t expect Bo to always act as calmly and nobly as she did in this episode. She can be catty and rude and violent and I love that those are all parts of her character, too. 

But I also think it’s already clear that in terms of her desires for her people, this former terrorist is done fighting over petty differences. She doesn’t dismiss Din even though he’s a part of a group she considers a cult (and she would know) because he’s still her people. And she’s still has no higher desire than the reunification of her scattered people and for them to be able to live in peace in spite of their long history of (and her own participation in) civil wars. 

“I am not my sister.” 

No, but Bo-Katan is currently more like her than she ever has been.

[ladybirdswritings]

Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: The crimson phantom steals you to keep for himself… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

TW: mentions of kidnapping, abuse, and other dark subjects.

two

The scream, it was an awful and otherworldly sound. A thing meant to only exist in the skin glistening terrors that greet you at nightfall. Yet you were very much awake.

Mother…

Your flame dances by the wind of your hasty departure, it had been serving you well as a gold star lighting the ridiculous letter from lord Wickham of Newbury, a town away. You’d met him once, and a handsome thing he was, undeniably. Yet he was also most successfully a bore. A great one at that.

Perhaps you’re just picky with your men. His sapphire eyes and blonde locks tied back by onyx colored ribbons just weren’t enough to catch your steady eye— much to mama’s dismay. He was far from a poor man, quite the opposite. Yet you swore this to yourself, you wouldn’t marry for anything other than true love. The purest, truest love and adoration like that of storybooks. Like that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy or Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre.

So you wouldn’t marry at all, you’d decided. For that kind of longing was far too grand for this simple world with its simple people. This you knew well.

The ink stained paper was waxed and perfected. No stroke faltered or bled from its place. An invite to a ball, as if you had anything other than wool tresses and scratchy cloth to don. You’d prepared to have a laughing fit in your tiny cot at the thought of it all, of a man’s stupidity and their clueless nature but— the scream.

You took the steps two at a time, ignoring their complaints by noisy creaks. Shadows of your siblings circling mama in panic greeted you round the corner. All but the moon and her stars lit the wooden home— besides a single wick candle that dripped on to mama’s wrinkled palm.

She’s a mess of sobs and panic when you reach her, immediately snatching the candle from her palm and placing it in its rightful russet holder. You turn your eyes to your sister, nearly the eldest had you not beat her by a month.

“What’s happened?”

The poor thing, her eyes are wide as the moon herself. Perfect, round circles they are— adorned with cyan and onyx to craft the most delightful gaze. Men throw themselves at her, and for good reason.

“S-she claims to have seen a phantom…”

“I did see a phantom you foolish girl! Right there in the window, clear as morning hour. Can’t you see how my nerves have betrayed me you rodents!? I am being truthful!” She sobs again, face scrunched up into an unpleasant expression.

You swallow, knowing full well what this means. Your eyes shift to little Thomas, adorned in a frayed night shirt and a flimsy cap. His bright blue eyes are worrisome, looking upon you for aid. He’s only six.

You place a cool hand upon his reddened cheek before ordering your sister to help him find slumber in his cot.

You know familiarly what this is and how insignificant it is for him to see it. For you’ve dealt with it in all your time here and it has done nothing more than cause you worry and heartache.

Your palms halt themselves, then find courage in the moment to cautiously rest upon the shoulders of a madwoman.

“Mama, have you taken your medication this evening?” It’s a weak, gentle whisper.

First, you believe yourself to be in the clear. She snaps her head up in panic, and the itch of realization that bites at her gaze relaxes your shoulders for a quick moment; but then, she squints. Before you can straighten your back or step apart from her, she slams her hand hard against your flushed cheek— turning it the color of the mysterious bloom you’d seen in the bend.

Your siblings gasp, falling quiet. Particularly your brother is dismayed, for he averts his eyes and clenches an angry fist. You stumble backward, fingertips grazing the heat of the slap with a certain shakiness. It is your nerves that have fallen sickly now.

It is far from the first time, and it most certainly won’t be the last. You breathe out your frustrations and pain through petal-pink lips— allowing the night itself to have them. Reminding yourself that she is unwell in mindful matters.

She is overtaken with sobs again, murmurs of the phantom and a disappearing flower being planted throughout her words. You swipe away at the warm water rolling singular down your cheek before straightening your back and snatching at the candlestick. You’ll remain strong as the eldest should for your siblings, and for your mother.

“I’ll go search for the phantom, mama. You may watch me from the window if you’d like.”

Worry embroiders itself in her wrinkles, and she reaches a weak hand out for you. You ignore it before making your way past your siblings and out into the icy night.

The creak of the window follows not long after, and your candlestick flame dances wildly with the wind, as though they are in a quarrel. As though they are cross.

You squint, midnight surrounding you. Blackness, nothingness.

Yet even so, you make a show of searching the grassy plain for this phantom she speaks of. You don’t seem to find him.

“Oh sweet girl, have you found the creature yet!?”

Your mother cries. You ignore it, inhaling a shaky breath as the wind lashes its anger upon your skin. The grass is dampened and soft, you’ll have to find new socks for they are browned now by dirt.

A bite of breeze steals the flame from you, and your siblings gasp as your glowing features are taken by the night.

“Be calm! It is just the wind! It is creating faces in midnight, mama. That is all!”

A softer sob now, one of realization and perhaps shame. It renders you content, you can rest now. For the hunger of her paranoia and fantasies are fulfilled.

“Follow the sound of my voice!” Your youngest sister Charlotte calls. It is a faint thing beyond the wind. A faint call.

It is as if onyx curtains have been veiled around your eyes. You search the night for a glisten of light and yet there is none.

Your sister calls again, and you stumble over a vine as you walk further toward her humming.

Your eyes shift to the earth’s core to find that odd blossom from earlier on. A strong color of red and blue— and it seems as though it has the power to shine brightly even at the devil’s hour.

You gape at it, grazing your fingertips cautiously against the petals. You must pluck it and use it to lead your way. Yet soon as your touch greets it, it disappears into darkness— into the night.

You gasp, falling onto your bum at its little trick.

It is you know that has fallen ill with ailments of the mind, it seems. The thought frightens you, enough so that the darkness seems to create more faces now. Enough so that you feel far from alone in the dead of nightfall.

Panic constricts you.

“Call for me again, Charlotte!”

A soft hum, but it sounds so far away now. You take a steeling breath and focus, taking only a selfish moment to hesitate before chasing after the sound. Closer and closer, your arched feet press against soft soil as you near the moonlit window.

Your brother holds a match flame so to find you, and you breathe in relief once you near it. Your nightgown is now stained with mud and the earth, you’ll have to sew another one.

The greeting of panicked eyes settle to relief once you near the window— and yet it is not so far after that they widen to saucers again. Another scream from your mother, then from small Charlotte with glossy eyes.

You gasp, turning against the hold of the night to find two crimson orbs staring right through you.

The phantom.

You know those orbs well.

The mysterious townsman who snatched you from immediate death.

Your body finds itself still, but your mind cannot be. It overtakes you, stumbling you backward till your eldest sister’s palm grazes the muddied gown you wear through the window. Reaching for you through the cries.

She cannot snatch you so soon- for the phantom beats her to it.

The sky itself cracks open in a flash of all the colors your mind can create, and a shadowed creature you’re confined to by the night itself snatches you by waist into the painful sight. It is far too bright for gentle eyes.

The sounds of fading screams and panic pools at the bottom of your pounding chest as you’re rushed through a space only meant to make your head ache. You’re certain you’re stuck in a terror now; but your mind is far too weak to bare it. So? You faint.

In the arms of mother’s phantom and his crimson gaze…

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019

[shkika]

So on the topic of iterators playing video games, this:

which is a part of the set of holograms Iggy can show Moon after Rivulet powers her back up. Which based on the colors, grid, and way the tiles change, is probably Moon and Pebbles playing the iterator dominoes

(It's funny to think one of first message Moon sent to Pebbles after hundreds of cycles was essentially "Hey you wanna play games")

(I need Saint playing Dominoes with Moon now)

I'm beyond mentally ill for those two! I'm very aware of their domino shenanigans. If you pay attention to Moon's projections you can see a lot of neat stuff. Actually let's talk about that!

I think them playing together is just so.. fitting and beautiful. It's such a simple way to connect with others. Playing games is one of the easiest ways to build or rebuild friendships. Any kind of games. Something casual you can talk and share while you do. And those two have plenty to talk about.

Aside the games though..

Ramble about a bunch of her projections in Saint and Riv campaigns below! It was very fun!

Moon also remembers her various slug cat companions through the cycles.

She tells Hunter how she wishes she could remember them. And now she can. Moon can remember her savior and remember just how hard her family and peers tried to contact her, to reassure her, to show how they cared. Even this image on it's own speaks a lot. Moon couldn't have taken it, because she was offline before that key ended up in her chamber. So it was Iggy. One of the overseers she no longer has control over yet tried to help her anyway. It's sweet.

It makes it canon that Monk met her and gave her two neurons! A thoughtful and kind creature.

Pet pictures of course! Here is little demon baby.

Moon also has pictures of the local group in the distance! She never stopped trying to look after them and be a local group senior. Checking up on them in the only way she really can. I think that's sweet.

And what honestly breaks me is uh..

These. She also never stopped being Five Pebbles' administrator.. or more accurately his big sister. Checking up on how he is doing and the situation with his rot. It just makes me ache a little. It's been way too long for her to be angry anymore. She can finally talk to him and they both know it won't be for long.

Moon also has pictures of Silent Construct.

Unless I am mistaken of course. But I get the idea that she has trouble reaching him. Or she can't find him. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Moon's overseers can’t reach Five Pebbles anymore. I don't think she'd stop being his company otherwise. Silent Construct is a place that has crumbled very badly and who knows in what state overseer tunnels are.. especially with the dense scavenger populations, it must be difficult to reach him.

Of course we also have the fallen buildings of her local group in the distance. No longer standing. Their time is over.

And! Something a little more fun is that she has a projection of the Moon. Looks to the Moon alright! How silly and sweet.

Hope you like the view Moonie.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Thor, Lu bu, Loki, Odin, and Buddha meeting a moon goddess that lives in her own sub universe because of how big she is, she’s bigger than the earth

-It was an accident, (Love) stumbling into your domain. He had been looking for someone else, and opened the clearly marked door that had your name on it, and he wasn’t prepared to find himself on a floating platform in space, with the door behind him.

-He had no idea where he was, looking around in confusion, “Where…?”

-He had turned back to the door, seeing it still open, seeing the hallway that he had just been in, and he started towards it before a voice filled his ears, “Oh~ and who are you that has visited my domain?”

-He turned, hearing your voice, but his eyes went wide, seeing a massive form swimming through space, dancing amongst the stars, coming towards him.

-Your long robes flowed around you, making you look so ethereal, like you were truly swimming as you approached. You were massive, even bigger than the earth itself, towering over him as you lowered yourself to be beside the floating platform, your fingers, which looked like mountains, on top as you peeked over the edge, seeing your first guest in who knows how long.

-You were so beautiful, your hair floating around you, your eyes sparkling like the stars around you, with a hauntingly beautiful glow, almost like a bright moon.

-Despite your large size, there was no malice, to intent to do any harm, so (Love) was calm, mostly unafraid, as you were rather intimidating, due to your size, as he spoke, “Who are you?”

-You smiled warmly, your voice airy and gentle, but a bit loud, due to your size, “My name is Y/N, Moon Goddess- and who are you?”

-He introduced himself to you, amazed as he had never met someone so large before, even another deity.

-He found you charming and intelligent, you were so sweet and gentle, but also funny, and you found him to be charming in his own right- as it had been many years since you had spoken with another.

-You told him that due to your large size, you lived in this pocket dimension, ruling over your massive section of the universe, but those in Valhalla could come and see you, motioning at the doorway he came through, and he grew angry as you told him that it had been such a long time since anyone had come to visit you.

-You were flattered by his offer to come and see you, and even offered to bring others, and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing how your eyes sparkled, seeing your bright smile. You were so happy with something as simple as wanting to have someone to talk to.

-He made good on his promise, bringing others to meet you and your charm was quick to work on them as well, as many of those you had met before had forgotten about you, mainly because you were out of sight, out of mind.

-(Love) enjoyed seeing you so happy, your joy became his own and he was happy to do whatever it took to make you happy, even if it was just him coming by and spending time with you, talking to you, telling you stories of his past, telling you of the world outside your domain.

-He grew fond of your meetings, talking with you, and he enjoyed watching you dance around the star speckled darkness of the universe when you would come to greet him. He adored you, finding you so beautiful and so stunning- you quickly became the moon of his life and you grew fond of him as well, even if you couldn’t do anything together other than just talking.

-That’s all the two of you needed to be happy, just being together, spending time together.

[heartsofminds]

Blooming (II)

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.” or Bradley Bradshaw is emotionally immature and he knows it, but she just wants to kiss him. 

Warning: Contains curse words, a failed age-gapped relationship, and sexual connotations. 18+ readers, only. 

A/N: Welcome to part two of my new series, Blooming. Here we learn about Rooster and Hangman’s past and his lack of emotional stability. Stay awhile, and enjoy 9.1k words in honor of our favorite aviator’s birthday.

Read Blooming and Blooming III here. 

i. 

Bradley knows he has a temper. 

One that makes his face hot and his chest flush a deep pink. His ears are always scarlet and the vein in the side of his neck attempts to become four-dimensional. The voices of everyone around him become muffled and he breathes deeply through his nose. His view of his immediate surroundings becomes blurred; almost as if he’s underwater and opening his eyes without goggles. 

And although Bradley knows he has a horrible temper, he also knows that he desperately needs to work on keeping it in check. It’s been a long time since he’s blown up. It’s been an even longer time since he’s felt so angry that he couldn’t breathe; his lungs feeling crushed and like he’s up in the air with no oxygen. 

He doesn’t know who he inherited his short fuse from. His mother was the most patient and kindhearted woman on Earth and his father, from what he had been told, was an oddball who was so obnoxiously goofy that nothing would ever be taken seriously enough by him to set him off in such a volatile way. 

And then there was Bradley. 

Bradley Bradshaw, who already had a chip on his shoulder from his father’s reputation, his mother’s death, and the fact that his beloved godfather didn’t believe in him enough to hold his own that he pulled his papers from the Academy the first time he applied and refused to acknowledge why Bradley was so pissed at what he had done.  

So that’s how he found himself in a class with people younger than him, literal infants in his humble opinion, and was embarrassed knowing that he stuck out the minute someone asked him how old he is. 

He made friends there, of course. He even had himself something sort of a girlfriend too. Her name was Tanner, and she was a knockout; tan skin and curly red hair with freckles that dotted her skin like how craters kiss the moon. But she was only nineteen and here he was at twenty-four; hopelessly in love with her and treading in the dangerous waters of knowing that their relationship was going to inevitably end. Mostly because they lived in such different worlds. 

Venus always looks close to Mercury until you realize that they orbit at different speeds. 

And despite it all, he was ready to bite the bullet for her. He was ready to settle down the minute she said: “Go.” He was ready to do any and everything she wanted if she just as much as felt the need to ask him. She was his everything because he had nothing and he knew it was a dangerous game to be playing; putting all that trust and responsibility in a person, let alone a nineteen-year-old girl. But Bradley pushed this fear aside and realized that this was his new normal. With his mom dead and Maverick out of the picture, she was the sole proprietor of his grounding and he assumed that he would be her’s as well. 

Bradley knew that he liked being comfortable and because he loved this girl so much, he was willing to swim in a sea of unknowns and discomfort. It was uncharted territory but it couldn’t be so bad. And boy, how that came back to bite him in the ass. 

While he did trust her fully (well, three-quarters of the way if you were to be exact), Rooster knew that they probably were not on the same page. Reading the same book? Yes. On the same page? Maybe sometimes, but definitely not reading the same paragraph and he’s for certain they’re not comprehending any of the words the same way.  

He knew she was young and still in college, a breeding ground for meaningless hookups and boozy frat parties, but he never wanted to be too controlling. He had seen enough of that bullshit in his fellow midshipmen. He had witnessed the kicking of walls when their significant others pissed them off or even the disgusting “locker room talk” that he assumed all guys grew out of after they graduated high school. But with each “Her tits are huge!” and “God damn I’d do anything to fuck her!”’s he hears when getting dressed after an intense training session, he realizes that a lot of the people he’s around are still boys and teenaged ones, at that. 

And then the realization clicks again that man, sometimes it fucking sucks being so old. 

But despite it all, Bradley knew that he wasn’t in control of her and couldn’t make himself have the heart to if he tried. So he didn’t loom over her the way that he would’ve liked to sometimes and understandably, he did get rather jealous every now and then. And he was working on being more open and communicating what he’s feeling when he’s feeling it or whatever his friend Phoenix was always on about when he came to her with relationship troubles. 

While Phoenix’s advice did work and he had admitted to himself that the female pilot is more emotionally intelligent and sensitive than she ever let on, the fights and disagreements still happened despite him using her tactics. Sometimes he would find himself shouting hurtful things at her or refusing to speak whenever she was attempting to rile him up so he would yell at Tanner. She had told him once during a late night pillow talking session that she picked fights with him so she would have some reason to actually be mad at him. 

But whenever he felt his cheeks get hot and his ears turn red while arguing with her about spending too much time with one of her male friends (for what feels like the eightieth time in the nine months they had been dating), Rooster remembered that he was yelling at a nineteen-year-old girl, with turquoise bedsheets and fairy lights all around him in a shitty dorm room with a nosy roommate on the other side of the door.  

So while Bradley does have a temper, he learned rather quickly when to pick his battles. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. He clenched his fists at his sides and closed his eyes. His thumb rubbed circular motions over his pointer fingers and he would picture his mom’s face, bleach blonde hair, and ocean blue eyes giving him a soft smile and saying, “You’re alright! Just calm down, babycakes.” 

When he would get like that he would always think of what his mom would do and he knew that his mother was the kindest woman in history and that she raised him well. He would always see women as an extension of themselves and not an extension of him. 

Girls have their own brains and own consciousnesses and own sets of morals. Bradley recognized that keeping his unwarranted thoughts to himself was easier than letting them out and causing an F6 tornado of problems that were just a poor projection of his own unhealed trauma and insecurities.

And while this along with Phoenix’s pep talks helped him be the best man and boyfriend he thought he could manage to be at the ripe age of twenty-four, Rooster realized that he had some shortcomings and that he kept failing to realize one thing: That not every girl he’s with is meant to be his. 

One thing that routinely had Rooster seeing red regardless of how much self-soothing or how much he tried to focus on his mother’s voice in the back of his head is whenever Tanner would visit him on base. 

Jake Seresin was not shy in the slightest and Bradley was (and still definitely is) convinced that God put him on this Earth to see if he had a hidden brain aneurysm because he’s sure one will erupt from how much stress the blond regularly puts him through. And yeah, Hangman’s annoying, and yes, Rooster is definitely not one of his biggest fans, but his girlfriend’s wandering eyes on the younger pilot wasn’t Jake’s fault in the slightest. But since he can’t force himself to be angry with Tanner, he settled for directing his anger towards Hangman and God, did that make his blood boil.

He had already brought it up to her numerous times before; telling her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick or prove that he was an Alpha male. Just that the idea that she always seemed more intrigued in what Jake had to say or was doing whenever she comes around bothers him like no other. Of course, that started a screaming match with her face as red as a tomato and his breathing resembling that of a woman experiencing contractions, but he had thought they worked it out. 

Well, shit, the make-up sex they had after was enough of an agreement, he had thought, but obviously not because it was happened again and this time, it was enough to make Bradley lose it entirely. 

Bradley knew that their relationship was probably coming to a close soon. He had a sixth sense for these kinds of things and he didn’t know if his intuition was really strong or if he just had a propensity to worry himself to death, but he felt like he could always tell when people’s feelings about him had shifted. 

Well that, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Tanner was losing interest. She didn’t remember the small things he had told her in passing like she used to and she never divulged much into her daily life with him over the phone anymore. She always sounded tired. Bored, even, and he couldn’t tell if she was bored of the conversation or bored of him. 

He chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore the sounds of unfamiliar voices in the back of their phone calls. He chose to ignore the fake interest she had while giving him the little reactions people usually have when you’re talking to them. He had caught her a few times laughing at morbid things he would say, which proved his theory that she was hearing him but never really listening. He chose to ignore the fact that she never told him she missed him anymore or that all the letters she would send would be signed with her name neatly at the bottom. 

She clearly had surpassed the need to declare her love for him with a comma following her signature on a piece of stationery paper.

Bradley chose to ignore all of this because living in denial is always better than having the burden of proof thrown in your face for you to forcefully accept it. 

So as a last-ditch effort to mend the relationship before biting the bullet and calling it quits with her, he invited her to the base to visit him. He made a deal with himself; if it went well, he would leave it alone but if she seemed like she’d rather be strangled with barbed wire than be there with him, he would let her go. 

When Tanner arrived, it was all butterflies and rainbows. She engulfed him in a hug and kissed his face like crazy. He didn’t remember her being such a fan of lipgloss when he had seen her two months prior, but he figures a lot can change about someone when you very rarely see them. So when she laid sticky cherry flavored kisses on his cheeks and neck, he didn’t question her on it and relished in the fact that she was there with him and that maybe, quite possibly, she was still in love and that this was it for him. 

She’s eager to hold his hand and to listen to his stories about whatever bullshit he has going on at the moment. She even gives him a rundown of her current friend group at college and what drama is brewing between whichever group of people and how she found out about it and what she intends to do to prevent things from getting so insanely messy. 

She’s basically glued to his hip the entire weekend. Her hand is always twisting their fingers together and the band of her purity ring (which has definitely been rendered useless since she’s been dating Bradley) rubs against the junction between Bradley’s thumb and pointer finger and fits like a cog in a wheel; as if it had always belonged there. She smiles sweetly at him, and he has her full attention whenever he speaks or walks into a room. 

When Tanner asks to use the bathroom and insists that she can find it herself without his help, Bradley doesn't think anything of it. She’s a big girl and as much as he wanted to go with her so he could soak up every second of the limited time they had together, he had to be laissez-faire. He couldn’t control her and he knew that lurking around every corner would make her feel like a child. 

So Bradley settled on passing the time by sitting down and relaxing. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows rested on his knees and his legs were spread enough to be proportionate with his torso. He tapped his feet, drummed his fingers on his legs, and fiddled with his watch. He knew that she was a slow walker with zero sense of urgency to her. There were some exceptions to that; those only being if she was running late for class and she had an exam that specific period or if she was horny beyond belief and was begging him to “fuck the shit” out of her on a shitty ass college dorm mattress. 

It didn’t seem weird that fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no sign of her. As a means to prevent himself from worrying to death or pacing around the base like a fucking lunatic, Bradley decided to busy his mind by going over his ever-growing “to-do” list that he kept in the back of his head. 

Despite all the mundane tasks and intrusive and borderline obnoxious thoughts he had going a mile a minute in his brain, Bradley was surprisingly an organized thinker when it came to remembering all the things that he had to do. He carefully sifted through his responsibilities and assigned them blocks of time and where they would fit in his day before he checked his watch again and realized that an entire forty minutes had passed since he had last seen his girlfriend. 

Something was off, and the familiar impending pit of doom that often plagued his stomach made a reappearance as he sped walked up and down the hallways of the base. 

She’s fine, right? The base is huge and she’s terrible with directions so she may have just gotten lost, right? And figured that he would come looking for her, right? She’s fine. She had to be. 

And when Bradley rounded a corner and was met with a supply closet at a dead end, he paused at a loud thump that followed a high-pitched moan. 

“Oh God!” he heard a breathy squeak from a female voice, “Harder, daddy. Please, I’ve been so good!” 

The pit in Rooster’s stomach turned into a ball of fire. He recognized that wheezy gasp anywhere. Hell, he had heard it two nights ago when he had her face down in the backseat of her 2002 Ford Focus. 

He should be the only person eliciting those kinds of sounds from her. He had a death wish for whoever was on the other side of that metal door, because one thing about Bradley Bradshaw was that you never messed with anything that was his. 

Rooster kicked open the door with his fists clenched to his side. He knew his ears were bright red and he felt himself starting to sweat bullets through his uniform shirt. The anger was hot as hell, and if he was in a better mood, he would make the joke that hell was right in front of him.  

Her blouse was unbuttoned and it's been shifted over to one side of her chest, her nipple poking out through the gaped hole the button was supposed to secure. Her bra had long been taken off of her and the denim shorts she had worn to the base are hanging off of a random filing cabinet that was stored in there; showing that they were taken off in a frenzy. 

And low and behold, the man of his disdain (even more so now than ever before) was in front of her, hoisting her up around his waist and fucking into her relentlessly. His uniform top was unbuttoned and his slacks were limp around his hips. 

The sudden kick of the door opening did little to interrupt them, but Jake noticed Bradley standing in front of them; a damn near homicidal gleam in his eye and his entire body flushed pink with red hot anger. And like the asshole that Hangman is, he sent him a smirk and a wink before leaning forward to suck a hickey behind the redhead's ear. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley screeched, “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He barreled his way into the small and rather dingy supply closet. Bradley grabbed Jake by the collar of his shirt and pushed him into the wall. Jake sputtered a cough; the wind knocked completely out of him. 

His girlfriend (or soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, really) shrieked and gawked her eyes in horror at the scene taking place in front of her. Bradley wasn’t supposed to find them, and he wasn’t supposed to know that the reason for their break up was because she was unfaithfully faithfully fucking another man. 

Tanner buttoned her blouse as fast as she could and pushed her denim shorts up her legs speedily. She had been embarrassed and ashamed before, but this was a whole new level. Not only had she been caught red-handed, but caught doing something dirty and quite possibly something illegal. 

Hangman had finally caught his breath. His blue eyes gazed up at Rooster with a gleam of mischief. He knew that there was no way for him to charm himself out of this one, and if he was gonna get his ass beat, the least he could do was have some fun with it. 

Jake sits up, tightening his belt his head, a smirk still on his face as he pulls up his pants and tightens his belt. “Oh look, it’s Chicken,” he scoffs, “I mean Rooster. How are you, man?” 

Bradley seethed with rage. His fist went straight to Jake’s eye, the impact making the blond pilot stumble back a bit. Jake had to admit, Bradley was one strong mother fucker and his eye swelling shut definitely proved his realization right. 

Bradley paused, trying to calm his breathing a bit before speaking. He knew that if he didn’t get himself under control, he may actually fucking murder Jake Seresin and although that wouldn’t be half bad, he worked too goddamn hard to get kicked out of the Navy and face criminal charges on the base. 

His ears were still glowing red and his breathing even heavier than before. Tanner stood in the doorway of the supply closet in shock and utter panic. 

“Ooh, you’re lucky you didn’t get my good side, Bradshaw,” Jake taunted, “But I’m sure Tan over there thinks every side is my good side. Don’t ya, baby?” 

And oh shit, Jacob Michael Seresin did have a fucking death wish and in that moment, it was evident that he really didn’t give a fuck what Bradley could do to him. Any opportunity to get underneath Bradshaw’s skin was a golden one, and Jake just couldn’t bring himself to not be an asshole. 

And oh, how Bradley fucking hated that. He grabbed the blond pilot by the collar and yanks him up to stand. He was too angry to speak. Shit, his brain was so fried from all the heat his body was exuding that he couldn’t even begin to think of words to put into sentences that would even make any fucking sense. 

“Bradley, stop! Let him go!” Tanner yelled, and all of his senses in his body are turned off except for his tunnel vision sight and his sense of touch. That was made unmistakably apparent as each blow delivered to Hangman’s face and torso kept coming and coming and coming. 

Jake’s face was black and blue and he’s sure he has baseball sized bruises all up and down his upper body, but he didn’t care. He finally had another missile to add to his arsenal of things to fuck with Bradley’s head. The result of that alone outweighed the healing time he would need. 

Eventually, a commander walks by and pulls Rooster off of Hangman, and that was how he and Jake and Tanner all found themselves outside of Admiral Gadson’s office to tell their accounts of why Tanner’s bra was in the hallway and why Bradley’s face was beet red and why Jake’s right eye was swollen beyond belief. 

Rooster sat straight up and looked ahead, choosing to ignore the sounds of Tanner and Jake’s hushed conversation beside him. 

So that’s how Rooster found himself on garbage duty (”indefinitely”, Admiral Gadson had said, but he liked the kid and felt bad for him, so really, he said it meaning two weeks) and with no girlfriend. 

And yeah, Bradley Bradshaw definitely had a temper and was definitely naive. And as he’s picking up orange peels and scrubbing dried piss off of toilet bowls, he made note of two things: One, he desperately needed to keep his temper in check and two, he would never make the same mistake to trust a young girl like that ever again. 

Man, does it fucking suck being so fucking old. 

ii. 

(Y/N)’s body is on fire. 

She’s not particularly hot, per se, but she most certainly is flustered. And for once, the source of her panic isn’t from a deadline or an application or some bill she had to have transferred over from her college apartment to the new one she would be living in come fall semester for law school. 

No, (Y/N) is on fire because of the sandy-haired pilot beneath her right now. 

Bradley Bradshaw’s old Bronco was a lot roomier than she ever anticipated it being, but then again, she wasn’t that great with dimensions (Damn you, astigmatisms.) and she wasn’t big on cars or motorcycles or boats or planes or anything that supplied humans with transportation, really. 

She had just been responsible for closing the Hard Deck by herself again and like clockwork, the handsome aviator wandered his way inside to tell her about how he had misplaced his sunglasses and despite the fact that they were closed, he just had to find them tonight. 

(Y/N) knew it was a ploy for him to get to talk to her alone. The mischievous glint in his eye when the words came out of his mouth told her so and besides, his beloved aviator shades were practically glued to his face. So how the hell did he manage to lose them? 

“Crazy how they’re basically glued to your damn head and you managed to lose them,” (Y/N) teases, rounding out from behind the bar to help Bradley search for the glasses, ”How the hell are you a pilot? Get lost often, too?” 

Rooster shakes his head, his gaze falling on the floor and his hands finding the sanctuary of his front pockets. The smile on his face gives his true intentions away, but he’s unaware that (Y/N) notices this. 

“Directions are different than placement,” he jokes, “I do happen to be smarter than a fifth-grader, you know.” 

The joke sits in the air for a few seconds before (Y/N) realizes that she has a stupid grin on her face and that damn, he looks really good in the lighting of Hard Deck. 

“Obviously not because you can’t do simple math,” she chides, “I’m twenty-one. Not ten, jackass.” 

“Hmm,” he leans on the side of the bar top with a smug look on his face, “Couldn’t tell. That baby face of yours says otherwise. I think it’s the dimples.” 

She scoffs and puts her hand to her chest. “Jesus, Bradshaw. Weren’t you just trying to take me out on a date last week? Now I’m in fifth grade?” she starts looking around the bar floor for his sunglasses, “Seems pretty fucked up for a Navy man, don’t you think?” 

“Pretty fucked up that you know I’m in the Navy and have a rank but refuse to use it when you address me,” Rooster quips. He starts to look on the floor of the booths near the area (Y/N) is searching. 

(Y/N) stands up straight and crosses her arms. She takes a deep breath before approaching Bradley, putting a hand on his chest and giving him her doe eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she adds extra thirst to her tone, ” How could I ever can I make it up to you? I’m just so young that I don’t know any better.” 

Bradley grins and takes (Y/N)’s hand on his chest in his and entangles their fingers. He looks down at their conjoined hands, his pointer finger running across her newly obtained class ring. 

His tongue comes out to lick at his bottom lip before his gaze shifts from their hands to (Y/N)’s face. 

“I can think of a few things.” 

He reaches up to grab the side of her face and pulls her in for a kiss. It’s soft, sweet even. It reminds her of how grooms kiss their brides during their wedding ceremonies. His lips are soft and plush, she thinks, and that was the best goddamn kiss she’s ever had in her entire life. 

(Y/N) detaches their lips and reaches up, taking both of her arms and looping them around Bradley’s neck. His hands move to her waist and he leans down to kiss her once more. This time he deepens it. The kisses are still soft and on target, never leaving her lips once at all. He’s not messy or miscalculated. It’s almost eerie, how his kisses are deep and starting to get rough but yet he was still thoughtful and delicate with her. 

His tongue swipes against (Y/N)’s top lip, and she opens her mouth to let it enter. (Y/N)’s not super experienced. She’s only ever kissed her college ex-boyfriend like this and they had broken up the summer going into her Junior year so it’s safe to say that it’s been a while. 

The sparkle in both of their eyes says the same thing, and she’s taking his hand in hers and leading him out of the front door of Hard Deck. He hugs her from behind as she struggles to lock the door, the kisses he’s planting on her neck making her giggle and lose focus. 

“Stop it, Bradshaw,” she says between laughs, ‘Penny’ll kill me if this door doesn’t get locked which means you can’t keep coming back to get me alone because I won’t be allowed to close by myself again.” 

Rooster giggles into her neck, his chuckle and the hairs from his mustache tickling her neck. 

“I bet I could sweet talk her,” he says, landing another kiss on the dip of skin just behind her earlobe, “She doesn’t call me sweet pea, for nothin’.” 

(Y/N) turns around and kisses him on the lips. “You stole my nickname, you fucker, so matter of fact, maybe I won’t lock the door because you can’t be trusted anymore.” 

Rooster brings her face closer to his again. His teeth tug on her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make her wince. 

“She was my aunt before she was yours,” he says, lips grazing over hers, “Remember to respect your elders, chick.” 

“Well if you’re going off of that guise, I’m not sure how Penny would feel watching us make out in front of the door when she watches the cameras back tomorrow morning.” 

(Y/N)’s statement makes Rooster back up and embarrassment washes over his face. (Y/N) had only ever seen the pilot with a smirk on his face; confidence and glee the primary emotions energizing his expression. To see him embarrassed was a sight for sore eyes. 

“Let’s move our transaction to my car, hmm?” he asks, hands finding her hips. (Y/N) nods eagerly and Bradley takes her to the beloved 1977 baby blue Ford Bronco that he had inherited from his father when he had turned sixteen many moons ago. 

He opens the passenger door for her before walking to the driver’s side. (Y/N) climbs in and shuts it, and the soft sound of metal falling on the floor of the car can be heard. She cranes her neck and moves her knees to the side to retrieve whatever had fallen from the force of the door closing.

And fuck, Bradley Bradshaw was either blind or a liar because low and behold, his “lost” sunglasses are in her hand. 

He shuts the door to his side of the vehicle and a small smile is on his face. He doesn’t turn to face her just yet. He knows that she’s found them and if he’s starting to figure her out as well as he thinks he is, he knows that her voice will be pipping up from the right side of his car in three, two, one- 

“You know, if you wanted to make out with me, Bradshaw you could’ve just asked,” she says, placing the aviators in his cupholder, “I’m not a floozy, but I wouldn’t have said no to you.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, turning to face her head-on, “And I don’t think you’re a floozy, baby. If so, only for me, right?” 

He gives her a smile and the inky blue of the California night sky paints a mural for her eyes. She never thought she would be into pilots, let alone older men, but yet, here she is in the passenger seat of a Ford Bronco, trying to debate if she should leave him hanging and only make out with him, or go all the way. 

He’s so damn fit and such a good kisser. The way he looks at her makes her mouth water and the way he teases her makes her so fucking wet. The ball is in her court and the hard part isn’t playing, but deciding when to start. 

(Y/N) leans over to kiss him again and this time, she grabs his face with both hands. There’s a warmth in the pit of her stomach and a hunger in her eyes. Bradley reclines his seat with one hand and guides her over to straddle his lap with the other. 

He thought he was way past the need for messy sex in the driver’s seat of his car, but you can never set expectations without some minor setback now, can you? 

(Y/N) is so goddamn horny and ready for him. She can’t remember being this desperate for anyone, really, and of course, she’s had sex before but she never remembers it being exceptionally good. It was just okay enough to get by and she always figured that she had enough time to have all the mind-blowing sex in the world the older she got. She was only twenty-one now, for fucks sake. 

Bradley’s as hard as a fucking rock and he doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his veins at fucking in the parking lot of such a popular place or if it’s exciting because he has a knockout sitting in his lap, her clothed cunt (that he knows has to be absolutely soaked for him) grinding like hell over his growing erection. 

He’s not been this horny since high school and if he was in a clearer state of mind (and maybe a better man too, he thinks) he would’ve opted to have taken her to dinner and then back to his place. At least there he had a bed and a couch they could fuck like rabbits on. Both pieces of furniture are government property technically, but then again, so is he until his service duty is up, so what even is the big deal? 

“Fuck, chick,” he breathes, grabbing her hips to push her down on his hardened clothed cock even more, “You’re such a good kisser.” 

She giggles into his mouth and fuck, he’s a goner. 

‘Yeah?” she asks, grinding herself even more onto his erection. She lets out a small moan (one that she thought Bradley couldn’t hear but his slight chuckle of amusement lets her know that she’s been caught) as the layers separating her bare pussy from his denim-clad package catches on her clit just right. 

“Yeah, baby. You’re a fucking knockout.” 

This makes her smile even more. Their kisses are sloppy now, the constant grinding crafting a veil of ecstasy around them both. 

“(Y/N)?” he asks. His fingers unbutton her shorts and starts to slide them down her legs.

“Yeah?” she answers. Her cut-offs are completely off her legs and on the floor near Bradley’s feet. The lilac-colored panties she had on were completely soaked where her weepy hole sat. 

If it was under any other circumstance or with any other person, she would find herself flushing pink and attempting to hide her face in her hands. But her arousal and also the fact that she feels so secure in what Bradley is doing with her prevents that. 

“Are you awake?” he asks. 

She doesn’t answer him, just continues to move her hips in circles in his lap. Her head is thrown back and the pressure and slight burn his jeans are providing her hardened clit feels like a slice of heaven. 

“Sweet pea? Are you awake?” he asks again, but this time, his voice doesn’t sound like his. 

It’s too high pitched; too womanly. 

“What the fuck?” she questions and then she hears it again, and the view of her surroundings starts to blur and everything starts to fade.

She’s completely pantless standing in a sea of black and then she hears it again. 

“(Y/N )? I’m headed out. Text me if you need anything!” and she recognizes it as her godmother’s voice. And then it clicks, and holy hell, the idea of Penny finding her like this terrifies her. 

(Y/N) shoots up in her bed, the sleep shirt she had worn completely soaked through with sweat. 

“Jesus Christ,” she sighs to herself, palms rubbing at her eyes to help process what the actual fuck just happened. 

And as she stands in the shower with the cold water running and the sunlight shining through the stained glass window Penny had in her guest bathroom, she feels ashamed. 

She just had a wet dream about Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking teenager and shit, maybe he was right. She was too young for him to take her out. 

iii.

Bradley was always surprisingly nervous. 

As a pilot, he was a total adrenaline junkie and small things that make his heart race satiate him enough to get through the day. He was naturally inclined to panic but every time his stomach dropped or he felt like his heart would stop from how hard the muscle was pumping, it filled him with a sense of euphoria. 

Pilots can’t be nervous wrecks. Especially naval pilots, and that was a lesson he had learned rather early. He picked this up through recounts of his Uncle Mav and Uncle Ice’s stories when they would be in charge of watching him while his mom worked the night shift. The mission impossible-like stories replaced his bedtime stories when his mom wasn’t home and Bradley never had the heart to tell her, but he would rather listen to Maverick and Iceman before he ever heard her rendition of “Goodnight, Moon” ever again.

But one thing was sure and that one thing stuck with him forever. Pilots can’t be nervous. Getting nervous would get you killed; whether that be shot down, captured, or ejected from your aircraft was up to the pilot and the cockpit was already small enough as is. There is absolutely no room for such a large feeling like nervousness. 

So his entire life up to this point at thirty-five years old, he always found a way to dodge his nervousness. Is it healthy? Not really. Does it help? Well, not really either but he doesn’t really have much of a choice now. 

Wanting to ask a girl he liked out on a date? Oh, the fast beating of his heart when he approached her wasn’t nerves, it was just because he liked her so much. She thought that him saying his heart “Beats louder for you because it wants you to hear how much you mean to me,” was endearing and Bradley knew he was lying and he was literally about to shit himself from the anxiety looming in his chest. 

He was the starting pitcher for the boy’s high school state game? He wasn’t nervous, just excited, he would say even though the blown look of his pupils and the gnarly sweat stains near his armpits told everyone else otherwise. 

He was getting ready for his promotion to Junior Lieutenant and had to be absolutely perfect and could not afford to fuck up under any circumstances? Bradley wasn’t nervous. He was just so undeniably ready to work his way up the ranks. But really, his palms were so goddamn sweaty he’s sure that he grossed out two Captains and one Admiral when he went to shake their hands. 

And there are so many other instances that he could name and correct his nervousness for another feeling, perhaps. 

Unbeknownst to him, Rooster Bradshaw never really knew that thinking about his feelings this way was unhealthy and was probably (well definitely, really) preventing him from being a fully emotionally intelligent man the way his mother would have liked him to be. 

So no, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t get nervous per se but when the dark-haired pilot walks into a room filled with twelve of the best naval fighter pilots in the nation, he’s alarmed. Bradley is competitive, no doubt about that, but at the end of the day he can’t help but remain the team player his parents had raised him to be. 

His “no man left behind” mentality had gotten him caught up numerous times before and his need to ensure that everything was fair made him known to be a stickler. 

But is he nervous? Hell no. Just slightly worried; scared, even because when the nation’s best is sitting in a squad room with their flight suits on and no information about what was going on, whatever was to come had to be huge; even bigger than all their egos totaled together. 

Hangman makes some shitty joke about Bob’s glasses; something along the lines of “four eyes” and how the Navy doesn’t need satellite cameras to spy on people. They could just look through Bob’s glasses and see all that they need to see. 

It earns a few chuckles from the other pilots sitting around and even if Rooster was itching to talk or do something to occupy his mind, he absolutely refused to acknowledge Jake Seresin more than what was necessary. 

Phoenix walks to her seat and “trips” on Hangman’s chair, tugging the leg back not enough to pull him out from under completely, but enough to startle him and make him choke on the words he was fixing to leave his mouth. 

Everyone chuckles a bit before they’re made aware of Admirals Simpson and Bates coming to speak to them. Bradley straightens up in his seat. He was always so painfully self-aware and he didn’t need something else to pick apart about the interactions he had had today while he lays in bed at night.

They’re given the run down of why they’re all there which, in Rooster’s mind, is always the same. 

They get told how talented they are and how well they perform in their roles. It’s always one big confidence boost before getting pushed off the cliff to the reality of the situation. Because they’re so good they’re going to be shipped off to play mission impossible, and because it’s mission impossible, there’s an even larger chance that they won’t make it back alive. 

Rooster’s had at least twelve of these talks in the last ten years he’s been flying and before, the thought of being up in the air, unaware if clouds and a blue sky were the last things he would ever see scared him. 

But then he kept making it back and he kept getting “invited” (more like ordered) to carry out more prestigious and dangerous missions. So no, Rooster isn’t nervous at all. There’s nothing new to the expectations he and his fellow pilots are under. The word “curveball” ceases to exist in the Navy’s vocabulary, anyway. 

And as much as he tries to be respectful and attentive, his mind starts to wander and the evasive thoughts that he usually has take precedence over what’s currently unfolding in front of him. 

He looks the Admirals in the eye, but little did they know that his mind was far from the pupils of the respected Navy men in front of him. 

It’s not until he hears the word that he freezes. His heart stops. His blood runs cold. His ears start to glow red and he has to flex his fingers on both hands repeatedly to keep it together. He’s not felt like this since high school when he had to give his Valedictorian speech. 

“Maverick.” 

He didn’t know that the word alone would make his blood run cold, but it does. 

It’s then when he realizes that fuck, he should’ve allowed himself to feel nervous every once in a while because he’s not even sure what feeling he’s feeling right now is even called. 

He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He’s saddened. He’s resentful, and he guesses that all of this can be added up and made to equal out to simply being nervous. 

Bradley figures that Maverick feels the same way too because it’s obvious that his gaze refuses to catch his the entire time he’s speaking. He hadn’t seen his Uncle Mav in years, and he certainly wasn’t planning on the first time he saw him being today of all days. 

It’s hard to believe that he was his stand in dad for so much of his life. He was the guy that attended his Kindergarten graduation. The guy who taught him how to shave his face and how to talk to girls. He was the guy who came to as many baseball games that he was able to fit into his busy military schedule and the guy who he practiced his Valedictorian speech in front of for weeks. He was the same guy who held him when his mother finally passed away and the same guy who let him sleep in his bed while he slept on the floor when he had nightmares after her death.

Maverick encapsulates what Bradley’s childhood was and even though he can’t help it and wants to hate him, he can’t stop himself from looking at his godfather with child-like wonder. 

But then Bradley shuts that down as soon as it enters his mind. 

Fuck that. 

He was Bradley then. He’s Rooster now, and Maverick had his chance and blew it. 

Pilots don’t get nervous because it can get you killed. But what they don’t clarify is that you can be killed physically or emotionally and Bradley is too damn prideful to figure out which one they really meant. 

iv. 

It’s been two days since (Y/N) found herself closing the Hard Deck by herself with the unwarranted help of Bradley Bradshaw. 

It’s been forty-eight hours since he flirted with her and offered to take her out on a date. It’s been two-thousand eight-hundred and eighty minutes since he smiled at her and asked her how old she was. And it’s been one-hundred seventy-two thousand eight hundred seconds since he laughed at her and told her that she was too young. 

And although two days isn’t a long time (unless you’re five years old and your perception of one minute is a literal fucking second) it feels like a lifetime and God, the counting and the flashbacks and the remembering has been eating her alive; even more so than her being bored. 

The embarrassment of her recent wet dream is all consuming too, but she knows she’s too shy to ever utter that admission out loud. It’s one less thing she has to worry about, but five new insecurities and emotions she has to face now. 

(Y/N)’s kept her eye out for Bradley the entire night. 

She had seen the familiar gang of Navy pilots come in. Hangman had come in and sat with her at the bar for a little bit, telling her about his day and throwing in some cheap flirtatious remarks here and there. She has half the mind to ask him where his friend is, but from the interactions between the two she had clocked from the corner of her eye two days prior, she knows better than to do so.

Jake would probably laugh in her face and accuse her of having some school girl crush on Bradley. The blond was relentless with his teasing, and if he had come across a weak spot, he would use it until the river of discomfort it caused the other person ran dry. 

“Don’t look so sad, pretty girl. I’m here now,” he had said, and all (Y/N) could offer him was a free beer and a soft smile. 

But that was two hours ago and the fleet of Navy pilots had long since left Hard Deck. Jake had mentioned something about early training tomorrow morning and how he had to leave so it left no surprise that once he headed out, everyone else who was in Miramar for the same mission followed. 

(Y/N) is slightly relieved that she didn’t have to face Bradley tonight. She knows that she has a tendency to ramble when she gets extremely nervous and the fact that she dreamt about dry humping him in the driver’s seat of his car definitely adds fuel to the fire of embarrassment that burns deep in the pit of her stomach. 

It’s a Monday night and the bar closes at midnight rather than its usual 1 AM. Aunt Penny had let (Y/N) close the bar by herself for the past two nights so when she had slipped out with some excuse about Amelia (which (Y/N) knows is bullshit and that her godmother was really going to visit Maverick, but nevertheless she doesn’t call her out on it) it was decided that (Y/N) was responsible and ready enough to close on her own. 

Even though the bar has been closed since midnight, (Y/N) can’t help but take her time shutting down for the night with hopes that the brunette pilot would show face before she turned the lights off and locked the door. 

The jukebox had been unplugged and the glasses had been washed and set out to dry. The bar top had been scrubbed clean and all the napkin dispensers were full. (Y/N) even went the extra mile and made sure all the bathrooms had soap and paper towel because she was that desperate for stupid Bradley Bradshaw to come in and kiss her breathless. 

She doesn’t think of herself to be a hopeless romantic, but she does have a tendency to hope for the best and sometimes the best isn’t realistic in the slightest. She would probably never see him again and he probably was turned off by how young she was. He was probably ready to settle down soon and get married and be a homeowner and have kids and the thought of something so permanent made (Y/N) a little nauseous. 

Sure, she wanted to be a wife and a mom and a homeowner but that’s some day and not any day soon. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to live by herself with no roommates yet, so how could she possibly be ready for marriage or kids? 

(Y/N) then realizes that she’s being extremely theoretical and that she should just turn her brain off and stop being delusional. Bradley Bradshaw was not walking through those doors tonight and Bradley Bradshaw was definitely not thinking about her the same way she was thinking about him. 

So as she scrubs the bar top counter one last time before she gets ready to leave, she hears the bell above the front door go off. She has half the mind to look up and to yell out that they’re closed, but she stays quiet. She figures the person who walked in would take the hint and see the bar basically abandoned and would turn on their heel and walk right back out. 

But when (Y/N) doesn’t hear the bell ding again signaling that the person had left, she puts the rag down and looks up. 

And holy shit, it’s Bradley standing right in front of her with his arms outstretched and leaning on the bar. 

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt with “NAVY” written in the middle and black running shorts. He has on Birkenstocks and his sunglasses are pushed up to rest on the top of his head. 

“Penny here?” he asks, “It’s kinda urgent.” His eyes look around, taking in the surroundings of the bar and fuck, he may be too late. Matter of fact, he knows that he’s too late. 

(Y/N) shakes her head. “We close at midnight during the week and it’s,” she looks at her watch, “Nearing one-thirty. You missed her by like two hours, Bradley. Sorry.” 

Bradley shakes his head and locks eyes with her. His eyes are filed with so much emotion and she can almost see his subconscious drowning in whatever sorrows he was battling with internally. He looks hurt, scared even. It was totally opposite the fire and childish twinkle they held two days prior as he mindlessly flirted with her when searching for his wallet. 

(Y/N) knows something had happened but she figures that it’s not her right to pry. She’s quite a private person herself and knows how annoying it is when people try and get into her head. 

Some things just aren’t for other people to know. 

“Hey, why don’t we go for a walk or something as soon as I close this place up?” she offers. 

She only does because she knows that he needs someone to talk to and something to take his mind off of whatever was troubling him, but she also does it selfishly; knowing that this was also an opportunity for her to get him alone and actually get to know who Bradley Bradshaw is. 

He offers her a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah,” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his pointer finger and thumb, “I would like that. A lot.” 

(Y/N) offers a grin and a light laugh before exiting the bar and turning off the lights. He opens the door for her and she locks it, putting the keys in her car before they head out to the beach near the strip of buildings where the Hard Deck is located. 

The inky blue sky takes (Y/N) back to her rather embarrassing but hot dream about the Lieutenant and she feels her cheeks getting pink. She thanks God that they’re outside and that it’s dark and that he’s not really looking at her because her sudden flush would be hard to explain. 

While they walk down the beach they talk about any and everything. 

She tells him how she choked on a Lifesaver once in first grade and cried so hard that she threw it up. He tells her about how he sliced the back of his ear open in third grade from climbing on top of his kitchen counter and banging his head on the door to his mom’s spice cabinet. She talks about how she had totaled her first car when she was sixteen because she was riding an old lady’s ass and didn’t have enough time to brake before a turn. He tells her about the time he concussed himself from hitting his head on the glass of his aircraft because he wasn’t strapped in tight enough. 

The silences in between stories is comfortable and his voice soothes her. Her heart isn’t beating out of her chest like she thought it would be doing. She’s not anxious or panicked. She’s relaxed and she realizes then that that’s what Bradley Bradshaw’s aura does to her. 

They walk back to the parking lot of Hard Deck and he walks her back to her car. 

He opens her car door for her and she teasingly gasps, “Oh, what a gentleman, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley gives her a grin, “Can say my momma raised me right. Nothing but the best for you, chick.” 

Chick. 

It makes her tingly inside that he calls her that. It’s her nickname for him and although it’s kind of funky, it’s sweet, in a way. Well, she relishes in the fact that Penny calls her sweet pea still so chick can’t be so bad in comparison to that. Besides, what else did she expect from a guy who goes by “Rooster” casually? 

“Told you I wasn’t cheap, Bradley. None of this should be a surprise to you.” She smiles at him and he steps closer to her. 

He looks down into her eyes and his hands go up to cup the side of her face and for a second, (Y/N)’s heart stops. Is this really happening, or is this some plot to another one of her embarrassing wet dreams again? 

Bradley wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her so fucking bad but it’s almost like there’s some invisible force preventing him from moving. He knows that that’s not true and that the force is himself because he tends to be his own worst enemy in situations like this. 

So instead he settles for an affectionate squeeze to the right side of her face with his palm. “I wish you weren’t so young.” 

And with that, he walks to his car and shuts the door, starting his car and sitting in it until (Y/N)  decides to pull out of the Hard Deck parking lot. 

He wishes she wasn’t so young and that he wasn’t so old as he drives back to his government supplied housing and little does he know is that (Y/N) lays in bed with a frown on her face thinking the opposite. 

[missmielyhoran]

Nightmare

in which Harry cheated on you...

[Warning- Angst, cheating, pregnancy, Breakup, crying, Fluff, really bad grammer cause I'm tired and wrote this cause I couldn't focus on studying]

*****

Two years, seven months, eighteen days...

That's how long you knew Harry or so, you thought.

Your relationship with Harry was pure bliss. He cared for you, loved you in a way no one ever had. So, never in your nightmares you thought he would just up and break up with you only to find his arms around some blonde a week later.

It broke the worst way possible. For weeks, you stayed in your bed and ate when your best friend force fed you, which ended up in your toilet anyway.

That was almost a year months ago.

You still were very much hurt, and the sight of Harry still almost sent you down a spiral. So, when Jeff asked you to come back as tour manager, you tried to deny it, but there was a contract, and nowhere in hell did you have 10,000 laying around to break it.

So, you went back and did everything in your power to avoid Harry and his girlfriend.

But fate was never in your side.

Just a few days in tour, and you were already having a bad day. You saw a woman standing in the cafeteria with her back to you. Hair cliped up in a bun, a mask covering half of her face and her hand caressing her huge belly.

You immediately got up from your place on the couch and offered her. Her eyes squinted, which you took as a smile.

Then she removed her mask, and you couldn't breathe.

It was the same woman of your nightmare.

"Thank you so much sweetheart, can't tell you how much this pregnancy has been killing my feet," She said, huffing and laughing.

You couldn't say anything. You just stared at her belly. She was almost 7 to 8 months pregnant, you thought.

Was it an accident or did they planned it? Harry always wanted family with you, he talked and raved about having a little you and him.

Now he was having that with someone else.

You ran when you saw Harry walk in the room from the corner of your eye. You couldn't do this, you didn't care you had to fight in court or you had to pay hefty amout you to get out you just couldn't work there anymore.

Tears streaming down your face, you ran to Jeff's office and slammed open his door. He looked up from his laptop annoyed at first, then concerned when he saw your state. Then realization hit him, and his face morphed into guilt and sorrow.

"I can't do this anymore, Jeff. I can't." You cried more. He got up and took you in his arms, and you sobbed harder.

"I know. I know." He assured you his hand running up down your back consoling you.

"I understand baby, but I need you to wake up now," He said suddenly. You removed your face from his chest and looked at him weirdly, surprised by the nickname and the sentence.

"What the fu-"

"I need you to wake up Baby" He said again a bit harshly this time, his eyes a bit serious and panicked, "Y/N wake up-"

You jolted up from bed heaving. Your body was covered in sweat. Confused, you looked around and found a dark room. Moon was shining brightly from the window, and the soft buzzing of AC and your pants were filling the room.

A large hand came up to your jaw and then the brightest green eyes. Harry looked at you sweetly and smiled.

"There she is. You were having a bad dream, baby." He said softly, wiping sweat off your face. You looked down your hand immediately, going to your belly almost protectively, and Harry's followed right after.

Then you turned around and hit Harry's bicep harshly. His eyes widened, "Ow baby. That hurt." he said, holding your hands in his.

"How dare you" You said angirly, "What did I do-" He asked confused.

"How dare you cheat on me?!" You exclaimed. Harry looked at your wide-eyed and then started laughing hysterically.

At this point, you also realized how ridiculous you sounded and your face turned red with a grumpy pout. Your arms around your belly, you looked like a cute angry baby chicken.

"Oh sweetheart, what will I do of you?" He said, lovingly leaning down to take your lips into a sweet kiss.

*****

Hehehehehe...I was bored

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

Please Like, Comment and Reblog!

I will be back with posting from next monday♡

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 9

Propaganda:

Shinpei -

"Has a tendency to ignore his emotions in high stress situations in favor of looking at everything logically, even when it is detrimental for him to take that approach. Keeps meticulous track of everything that happens around him."

Sunny -

"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."

Yuki -

"He has difficulty communicating with other people and suffers from extreme social anxiety, feeling like he's drowning when placed in uncomfortable social situations or scenarios where she doesn't know how to respond. This also causes him to go red in the face and clench his jaw, which other characters wrongfully interpret as him becoming angry. Through meeting Haru (and getting pulled into his plan to save the world), he becomes friends with him and Natsuki and develops his own strong interest in fishing."

Meursault -

"not only is he based on the character from camus' l'étranger who has actual scholarly debate on him being autistic, meursault is just… so autism. hes this stoic, terse guy with resting bitch face who doesnt really seem to fully process that he isnt showing any emotions and that that offputs people, and hes very blunt and literal with things. once another character asked if he had metal for brains as an insult and he responded by telling him the exact chemical composition of his brain to show that it is not metal. once the other characters made food so bad that when he tasted it he went on a minute straight long monologue about how much it sucked. he then proceeded to cook his own food which the giant evil chicken monster man that was judging the food tasted and said was so intensely done to the letter of the recipe that it was too boring. hes like if autism was a guy and that guy was french."

Zack -

"does things based almost solely on whether or not he wants to, at one point in the series, he doesn't tell the rest of the cast that he can fly a spaceship because he doesn't feel like it. he also take everything everyone else tells him seriously, such as when another character he knew as a kid said they were going to get married one day, he took it very seriously and was confused when said character tried to confess her feelings again and he said he thought their promise from when they were kids was still on."

Joujirou -

"This boy is autism incarnate. No social skills, no normal pain perception, complete weirdo. He even has a special interest which becomes a mild issue when he joins the main cast lol."

Alus the Star Runner -

"He’s a three-armed wyvern gunslinger with cool goggles and a lightsaber. Need I say more? …Okay then. Alus was born as a mutant cripple and rejected by his kind but managed to overcome this and rise up to become Flying Reptile Indiana Jones. He’s famed as the greatest adventurer in the land, but also struggles to keep up a conversation and prefers to remain on his own (which is especially unusual for wyverns, who usually gather in giant flocks). He has exactly one (1) friend, whom he completely fails to understand as a person but still values and respects immensely. Despite his difficulties with social interaction, he’s repeatedly shown to be incredibly resourceful and intelligent, with a single-minded drive and persistence unmatched by anyone else in the series. (Also canonically asexual, because who needs a family when you can fight dragons perfectly well on your own?)"

Mamoru -

"the ORIGINAL autistic magical boy."

Shizuka -

"he's the most emotionally intelligent & mentally stable member of the cast & he's in love with the least emotionally intelligent & most emotionally volatile character ever. he's constantly got the vibe of looking into the camera like he's in the office while he's dealing with everyone else's bullshit. he's so steadfast & loyal that it makes me want to cry. he's so bad at expressing himself in a way that other people understand that for the longest time the boy he's in love with thinks that Doumeki doesn't even like him."

Idia -

"He’s a shut-in weirdo with long messy hair, a sleep deprived look in his eyes, and one of the few students to have a hoodie as part of his school uniform. He’s a prodigal tech genius with the vibes of burn out and depression. He’s usually quite meek around people, but when he clicks with a conversation topic, he gets all energetic and fired up and sometimes a bit haughty too. To avoid going out of his room and interacting with people face to face, he invented a mobile tablet with text to speech. He stays up all night playing video games and while he has trouble with IRL relationships, he’s made a genuine friend out of one of his gaming buddies (who he doesn’t realize is actually one of his classmates). He stans an idol group and once got into a hacking war against some dorm mates over it. He rebuilt his dead brother as a robot who has become somewhat of a therapist to him. The only reason he went out on a holiday vacation with school acquaintances is due to the location being featured in an anime, then bonded with the one guy’s grandma when he realized his favorite girl was based on her. For the Halloween celebration, he convinced his dorm to theme themselves after his favorite B horror movie, constantly infodumping to people about it and going all out in recreating the special effects. In Book 5, he has a minor background arc of being forced to do public speaking. In another Halloween event, he was forced to be a back-up singer and managed to pull through despite the social anxiety. He’s the most autistic student in all of Night Raven College and possibly in all of Twisted Wonderland too."

[idkfitememate]

Got bored, got too many brainrots and obsessions rn and wrote this “super fast” just to prove a point *AHEM*

(Also you kinda have a “set” look in the beginning, but that’ll change! It’s for stories sake I’m sorry-)

((Also also, I’m so sorry guys… you start off as a Texan I’m so sorry-)) [Fun fact I have a slight southern accent and it’s wild when I hear it-]

Yes this is the Adam/Eve!Reader x Obey Me. It has been rotting my mind for months I’m not sorry-

The Garden of Eden.

Never was it, nor its human counterparts spoken of in a negative light in the Celestial Realm.

Talk of trees that grew above the clouds and lakes so crystalline that you could see every grain of sand under the perfectly glowing sunlight flew out of Angel’s mouths, some even admitting small amounts of jealousy at how finely those mortals were living.

It interested Lilith.

Youngest of seven siblings and one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues - that Virtue being Patience - she was of high status and importance among those lucky enough to live under their Father’s light and guidance.

She wanted to know more than what those baseless rumors and tales could offer her, so one night, beneath the many star like moons of her home, she flew down beneath the clouds but above the stony bridge that would have snatched her away, down into the depths of the Devil’s Realm.

Her wings, as pure as a dove, flapped endlessly to carry her over gorgeous mountain ranges and wide plains of golden grass, over the bluest of oceans, to find this fabled Garden.

And finally? She came upon it.

Landing gracefully on the emerald green grass, she took in the sight. She supposed this Garden truly was what one would get if you took a piece of The Celestial Realm and placed it in the Human Realm.

Colorful birds filled the sky with trees of every type surrounding her. Animals she had never seen before lunged around her. Feeling giddy, she began to run with the multiple groups, eventually taking off.

She flew over a lake, lowering herself right above it to gently grace her fingers over the top, ripples feathering out and creating small waves behind her. Fish kept from the water around her in grand arks, and with a giggle she pushed herself higher with a great flap.

Liliths giggles bubbled into loud laughter, as she soared over tree tops with beautifully colored birds, spinning and diving with no one to tell her no.

She felt free.

That was, until she didn’t manage to catch herself in a dive and crashed through the treetops.

She slammed into the grassy floor of the forest, dragging through the dirt as rocks flung out of her way, eventually being stopped by a tree. It took her a moment to really get her bearings, but when she did she was suddenly all too aware of her surroundings.

It wasn’t nearly as bright here as it was out there.

The shadows of the trees were long and bird song was suddenly silenced. The winds picked up and branches shook harshly, leaves being pulled from their trees.

She could barely make out the sun, clouds blocking its path, and the lack of other creatures was deafening.

Something was watching her. Not unlike the gazes of her elders when she made a small mistake on a document or once again had a day where she stole her closet brothers away to just have fun.

Its gaze was attached to her back, and she curled into herself. She was wrong, this gaze was worse.

It wasn’t scrutinizing her, it was observing her. Watching her movements. Taking her in.

She felt something she couldn’t identify. She hadn’t felt it before. Something crossed of anxiety and that feeling when someone was angry with her.

She was… scared?

That word flew through her mind. She heard it scarcely with fellow Angels. It wasn’t something usually felt in her home, as it’s wasn’t truly necessary. They were supposed to be happy in the Celestial Realm, and fear was not positive, it was a negative, something Demons would usually deal with.

So why was she…

A branch snapped in the background, echoing through the empty forest around her. She jolted upright, grabbing her knees and wrapping her arms around them.

Her breath grew heavy as she began to look around wildly, her wings puffing up as she curled into herself tighter. Her knees to her chest, she instead took her arms from her legs and wrapped them around her head.

“Whoever is there… please…”

Her voice was weak. She shook in the breeze, the delicate flowing fabrics of her gown dancing wildly in the wind with her hair. Her sniffed, trying hard to hold the tears that had suddenly formed in her eyes at bay.

“Please…”

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, fast and steady, rushing towards her. Her head shot up as they grew closer, fight or flight kicking in immediately. She jumped up, arms cradling her chest.

“W-wait!-“

Deciding against talking, she ran.

She hadn’t thought she’d have to fight, so she saw no need in bringing her holy weapon. Her bare feet pounded against the earth. Wildly thrashing through branches, leaves and sticks got stuck in her hair, scratching her face, ichor slipping from the wounds. She pushed through the forest, looking for a space to take off. She heard the footsteps growing closer and faster, nearing her with animosity.

Finally she burst from the forest line and down a hill, tumbling down and landing on her wing awkwardly, causing a dull pain to scream through the joint. White feathers flew as she fell, small screams falling from her throat. She finally rolled to a stop, tears and ichor mixing on the ground. Her shaken sobs making her body shiver on the ground.

She turned and laid eyes on mask, painted with gold and black accents.

Long flowing golden hair trailed behind them as they walked towards the fallen Angel. A tight black top clung to their chest, sleeveless and cut off right below the pecks. A pure white sash wrapped around their shoulder and down onto their waist, a bow on their thigh tying it together. Large, black flowing pants with golden accents ended at their ankles where their feet were wrapped in bandages. Armor clung to their arms - black with golden trimmings - one arm having slimmer armor that ended at the wrist, revealing an archer’s glove, the other arm ending in a gauntlet with sharpened claws for fingers. A small amount of the same armor rested on their waist, held together with a golden chain. A white scarf that flowed behind them covered the bottom part of the white mask with golden inlays that hid their face from Lilith.

What brought it all together were the feathers that attached to one side of their mask. A large golden one, two pure white ones on either side of it, and a small row of black feathers behind them.

A bow rested on their back, large and black in color with golden accents, made of the same metals that made the armors that covered their skin. A long sword rested on their back as well, under the bow. A circular shield rested atop the bow, though from the angle she lay at, Lilith could not see the design on its front. The sheath was beautifully decorated with golds. A quiver rested on their hip, filled to the brim with arrows begging to be used, surrounded in smaller bags and satchels. And finally, in their hand, was a large and imposing spear. Long and thin, yet it looked to be made of a strong metal, one light enough to glide through air if thrown.

They slowly and antagonizingly made their way towards the fallen Angelic girl, who in a last ditch effort shot a weak burst of light from her palm. It was hot, but if not hot enough to injure then it would be bright, to blind. Though unfortunately, the person just smacked it away with their spear.

They made it in front of the still downed Lilith, who was preparing to prey to The Father for safety, before they crouched down and kneeled before her. They both stared - Lilith assumed they were anyway - at each other for a moment. Then, the clawed hand came to their mask, and slowly pulled it above their head.

Lilith’s eyes widened.

“A genuine Angel..? Here..? Well, I do apologize for our horrid meeting. Hadit been in my hands I’d’ve had you land safely into m’ arms, pretty lady. Now, what can this a-humble human do for a graceful lil’ thing such as yourself? Father got any new messages f’ me?”

Soft (e/c) eyes stared back into Lilith’s with a soft smile as well. A hand was offered to her as well, which she took. The spear in hand was safely placed on their back as they pulled her up gently, their un-clawed hand gently wrapped around her waist.

“Oh! Where are my manners! S’cuse me, but I’m The First. Eh, heard from the last Angel that visited that ya’ll might call me Adam? Or Eve? Couldn’t really tell. You can pick though, pretty lady. Speakn’ of, what’s your name dove?”

They gave her a toothy grin as she stared wide-eyed at them. They were… Adam… and Eve? Looking at their body they looked neither feminine nor masculine, a perfect mix of the two. As did their face.

“L-Lilith…” “Well nice to meet you, Lilith! As I said, Adam or Eve I don’t mind neither, course you could come up with somethin’ of yer own!”

Lilith continued to stare at the human-you as you walked her through the forest she just ran through. Taking her through a small yet visible path into a small clearing, sat in the center was a small little hut of wood with a high standing brick chimney.

“Oh! Darn, yer wing! Ah, my apologies Lilith, I assume this happened when ya took that real big tumble down the way? Now, I ain’t ever heal no Angel wing before, but I’d be a fool not to try for you, dove.” Their hand brushed over her wing gently, smoothing down some feathers. Lilith looked at them, taking in their features once more. They looked… young.

“How long have you been here..? Alone..?” The looked at her with widened eyes, before turning back to the hut.

Silent with a thoughtful look on their face, they opened the polished, wooden door and showed Lilith inside first, closing the door behind them. With a flick of their wrist, a flame enveloped their hand, and with another, shot out of their grip, startling the Angel.

It flew to different corners of the house, bouncing off walls and other surfaces until they found their placement in various lamps around the room, bathing the small house in a warm glow.

“How did you… you spoke no words-“ “Yeah, been doin’ things of that sort for as long as I can remember. Didn’t mean to startle you. But to answer your other question… I don’t know, truly. Been left with my thoughts for ‘bout as long as I’ve been alive, not countin’ the few Angels that may come down with a message from The Father anyway.”

They sat her down in a small chair, and she really took in her surroundings.

It was all one room really, only a wall separating what she assumed was the kitchen from the living/bedroom. The kitchen had the bare minimum, a wood fire stove and a couple small chests and cabinets. In the living room was the base of the chimney, a fire having been lit inside it with a large pot rested against it. In front of it were two wooden chairs, each draped with thick woolen blankets. Behind the chairs was a bed that took up a large corner of the home, pressed to the wall next to the door. A small window rested above it, as well as a shelf with small pots containing various flowers of different sizes, shapes and colors. Beside the small kitchen area was a small circular table - where she was sat now - with four chairs surrounding it. It sat in the corner opposite to the bed, with a window beside it as well and a potted flower in the center.

It was small, but cozy. As she looked around, Lilith barely noticed as the human, who had placed their weapons at the foot of the bed and mask on a hook next to it, took a look at her wing, gently flexing it and feeling up the joint to get a better feeling for the injury.

“S’nothin’ too bad. Pulled a muscle, might be a sprain. I’d say stay off it for a bit, maybe ‘bout a… week?” Lilith looked at them incredulously.

“A WEEK!?! I NEED TO BE BACK BY TONIGHT!!! I can’t stay here… I need… I can’t-“ She kept up from the chair, causing it to clatter against the floor. She flinched as it fell but the human simply stared.

“Is there anything you can do?? I need to leave, this was a on a whim trip and no one knows I’m here-“ “No one knows?” They interrupted.

“Well now dove, ain’t that a bit irresponsible of you?” Lilith sighed with a grimace.

“Well… yeah. BUT I WAS CURIOUS!! I couldn’t help myself! I just had to see the Garden of Eden. It sounded to pretty a magical and and… oh isn’t there anything? I’m not the greatest at healing magic, my brothers usually take care of all my cuts and scrapes…” The human smiled at her while gently rubbing her back.

“Now don’tcha worry your pretty lil’ head dove, ya interrupted me ‘fore I could say that’d be if I couldn’t heal it, which I can. So you just sit back down an’ led me work my magic, alright?” They picked back up the chair she had knocked over and sat her back down.

“Plus, a week ain’t that bad compared to what it woulda been f’ me. I’da been outta commission for at least a month. But with y’all’s fancy Angel bodies, healing is all quick like. Notice here? Ya face scratches are all gone dove.” Lilith gently placed a hand on her face, noticing the dull throb of any of the scratches she sustained in the chase were gone.

“I-I guess I never noticed, considering we don’t regularly get hurt in The Celestial Realm…” She mused. The human chuckled.

“Heh, wouldn’t expect y’all too. Anyway, gonna have this wing fixed up faster than double-struck lightning.” The Angel looked that them.

“What?” “Eh?”

They both stared before the human chuckled.

“Don’t mind me, let’s just get this here wing fixed up. I’m gonna count to three, and then you’re gonna hold ya breath, alright?” She was confused, but Lilith nodded.

“Alrighty, one…” She closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Two…” She felt the humans hands wrap around the injury.

“THREE!” A loud *SNAP* sounded through the room, and her eyes shot open. Before she could scream or anything of the sort, a cooling sensation flowed through her wing, the dull pain she felt washing away. She sighed in relief and leaned into the touch of the human. She couldn’t see it, but a sweet smile crossed their face.

“Thank you… so much…” “It’s no problem, dove. My fault you even got hurt in the first place. Again, my apologies f’ that.” Lilith huffed.

“No, it’s my fault for even getting in this situation in the first place, I shouldn’t have left without permission. Maybe I would’ve known where your dwelling was and could have made a safer landing.” That human chuckled and gently pulled her up.

“Now now, don’t go gettin’ your knickers in a twist over this, alright? Here, we both take blame.” “No no, I did more harm in the long run-“

They placed their hands on her shoulders, mindful of the claws on their single gauntlet.

“Nope. Not hearin’ you out ‘bout this. Anyway, you best be getting outta here now dove. Wouldn’t want’cha getting in no kinda trouble just cause you came down and visited this mortal. Come one now, let me show you out.”

A arm wrapped around her waist, gently leading her back to the front and out the house into the small clearing.

“Next time ya come ‘round here, make sure ya got some kinda permission, alright?” They asked. Lilith blushed as she looked back, an embarrassed chuckle following.

“I will. Promise.” The human smiled back.

“Alright then. Now then, it’s time f’ you to swap spit an’ hit the road.” The Angel looked back, aghast.

“It’s time for us to WHAT?!” She screamed, leading the human the lift their hands in surrender and laugh.

“Sorry, I just meant it’s time for you to leave, dove.” Lilith sighed and chuckled with them.

“Alright, thank you again! I will visit, I hope you know that!” They nodded and she smiled.

With a final smile, she leapt into the air, wingbeats echoing through the landscape. As she cut through the sky, she took a glance back and noticed them enthusiastically waving her off with a big silly grin, causing her to grin.

Yeah, she’d be back.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

Belphegor had begun to notice Lilith’s absences were increasing.

It wasn’t odd for the youngest of the seven to go missing on one of her little adventures, but for them to be happening so often?

And on top of that, she seemed happier. Now, don’t get him wrong, Belphegor loved seeing his sister so happy, but the thing was he couldn’t tell what exactly was making her so happy.

Also she called him “as pretty a peach”??? Whatever that means??? What even was a peach???

Anyway, he was determined to find out what it was, especially since last night she came home THREE HOURS after dinner all giddy and stuff.

Today was the triplets day off and with Beel out for the moment and her in her room, Belphegor figured this would be the best time for questioning.

Knocking on her door and waiting for the muted ‘come in’, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“Yeah, Belphie?” Lilith was sat on her bed on her stomach, legs swinging above her. Her head was resting in her palm as her other hand held a letter.

“I just had a question, nothing serious. May I sit?” Belphegor asked from the door. He pointed beside the laid down girl who giggled.

“Yep! Go right ahead.” She said, rolling over and sitting up. Belphegor sat by her feet and looked at his sister.

“My question is… what’s been making you so happy lately?” A sour look crossed the man’s face as Lilith only stared… Before bursting out into laughter over his expression.

“PFFFT- WHAT KINDA QUESTION IS THAT BELPHIE???” She laughed. Belphegor coughed into his fist to hide his now embarrassed expression, causing Lilith’s laughter to only grow in volume.

“W-Well I only ask because you’ve been so... so… Giddy! Lately! Like your head has been in the clouds!!” Belphegor defended, Lilith’s laughter quieted.

“Well for one, aren’t our head technically always in the clouds?” Belphegor stared at her as she grinned. With a chuckled, she continued.

“Besides, it’s nothing super important. I just maybe… kinda… might think I’m in love?” Belphegor did a double take.

“You might be… what?” “Okay head me out Belphie-“ Belphegor shook his head in shock. His little sister? In love? With who? What were they like? Likes and dislikes? How old? So on and so forth. Questions ran through his mind a mile a minute.

“Before you ask ANY questions, they’re younger than me, super nice and take my wants into consideration, cares for nature, and is just the sweetest person I’ve met. They even cook and clean and can sew and even crochet! Isn’t that just amazing…” Lilith immediately looked away from her brother, clutching the letter she was holding to her chest.

Belphegor figured the letter might be from the person in question, so in a moment of selfishness - to which he knew he would pray about later - , grabbed the letter from her, causing a gasp from his sister.

She immediately complained, pushing at her brother to get it back, but he stood up and held her back with one arm, reading the letter aloud.

“- Don’t worry about the bruise, it isn’t nothing to worry about. Anyway, those Celestial flowers you brought me are doing wonderfully. You were right, all they needed was a bit more sunlight than the regular flower, like a sunflower. Might show you the sunflower field I found the other day if you want. Don’t feel rushed to come back down, however. And please say thank you to Yael for making the trip to and fro. Glory to The Father, may he smile upon us. Goodbye, my dove.

- A.E.”

Belphegor looked at his sister who was flushed in embarrassment. She had given up fighting in the middle of his reading the end of the letter, and was sitting on her heels on her bed.

“A.E.? What kind of name is that? And why are they acting as though they don’t live here? “Those Celestial flowers you brought me are doing wonderfully.”? That’s not something someone who is here would say, Lilith. Just who is this?” Belphegor looked to his sister whose blush had disappeared by then.

She sighed as she looked to her brother, gaze clouded for a moment before huffing again.

“If I tell you… promise to not tell anyone?” Lilith’s voice was uncannily soft compared to her usual loud and outgoing self. A little uneasy with her sudden change in tone, Belphegor nodded.

Lilith hesitated and opened her mouth, then shut it, then thrust her hand into her brother’s chest, pinkie out turned.

“Pinkie promise?” Lilith’s eyes held… worry? Fear? Belphegor couldn’t read it well but whatever it was it immediately sent signals off in his head.

“Yeah… yeah of course.” Belphegor held out his hand with pinky extended, wrapping it around hers.

“I may have… gone to the Garden?.. And talked to a…” she hesitated, “human..?” Belphegor looked to his sister with now widened eyes.

“You went to… the Garden? Like, THE Garden? Of… Eden? Where the… humans live?” Belphegor spoke their name like a taboo, which made Lilith cringe.

He knew why, humans were still relatively new and were more or less a hot topic. Either you never spoke a word or they were all you could talk about. They were something of a passion project, as was rumored. Something that was aloud to have varied results, and more importantly:

To make mistakes.

The was the supposed “beauty” of what would soon be humanity.

Or so Belphegor was told, anyway.

He never got it, as the Virtue of Diligence, it was literally ingrained in his being to always be alert to any mistakes and correct them as quickly as possible, to ensure everything ran smoothly. Sure, sometimes a mistake could prove to be beneficial, but more often than not, that was untrue.

So how an entire race could be conceived from the idea of mistakes propelling them was… Belphegor just couldn’t understand.

So to hear his sister, LITTLE sister mind you, had gone down and… interacted with those things?? He was a little upset but… her eyes.

Lilith’s eyes shined with a wonder he hadn’t seen in them in a while, life finally growing bland after their millions of years of existence. She had something new, and it clearly brought her happiness. Who was he to take that from her.

In the grand scheme of things it didn’t affect her work to much, and Father had never explicitly told them to stay away…

“Does this human seem to have any intentions of hurting you?-“ “NO!”

Lilith raised her eyes and flinched back in indignation at the words, looking offended, a hand landed on her chest.

“They would never! I’m impressed you’d even say such a thing!” Chuckles rung from her as she began to kick her legs slightly, covering her mouth with a hand. Belphegor smiled.

This may not have been his favorite predicament, but she was happy. Perhaps he could give these humans a chance.

…

This would be his first time making a “mistake”.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

Years went by and Lilith’s visits to you didn’t stop.

Nearly every weekend was spent with you, sharing stories and otherwise. You’d taught her a few tricks of your trade as well, such as sewing and wood carving.

All was well.

Of course, until it wasn’t.

Yael, the Angel you and Lilith had trusted to take your messages to and from each other, had “crumbled under the pressure” and told a higher up. Who told someone higher than them, who told someone higher than them and well…

You hadn’t seen or heard from Lilith is weeks.

You were getting worried, but you had no way of getting to the Celestial Realm to check on her. So you waited.

And waited…

And… waited…

Lilith, meanwhile, was trying her hardest to convince the others to allow her back down into the Garden.

she had been forbidden, Angels weren’t meant to meddle in the affairs of mortals unless explicitly instructed too, after all. The Realm was still figuring out the logistics of Guardians, so no one Angel - without permission - was allowed down there.

Lilith begged and cried and sobbed, doing everything in her power to convince them that she deserved to go back down. That nothing had truly changed or happened. That’s she hadn’t fully interfered with the mortals.

All it took was an image of your now sullen face staring at the sky awaiting her return for the council to agree that she would never again be allowed to see you again.

She had exposed you too much.

You’d most likely not move on for years.

And she sobbed.

Her brothers had never seen her cry like this.

She fell to her knees and sobbed and pleaded with the council to reconsider, to give her another chance;

To at least allow her to say goodbye.

All requests were denied.

And her brothers were forced to watch her fall into something they had only heard from Demons, a “Depression”.

No longer did she go on spontaneous adventures, nor did she make jokes or try anything new.

It was simply work, eat, sleep, and staring longingly at the gifts you had given her.

Her colors dulled as time went on, and she slowly lost her glow.

Lucifer just couldn’t take it.

He tried to reason with the council. Asking them time and time again.

Always getting denied.

He only got more desperate as days past and she got duller and duller…

And finally he snapped.

Lucifer didn’t know how it happened. Once second he was asking peacefully.

The next he was chocking someone.

He let go after regaining control of his body, breathing heavily and palms shaking. After which a shouting match broke out.

And soon after that meeting, things only got worse.

Chocking turned to punching, punching turned to full on fighting, and fighting turned to the first angelic death by angelic hands in history.

Then the declaration of war.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

The days seemed to pass like a blur to you.

From days filled with planing of what new thing you could introduce to Lilith and where you could take her, now filled with the monotony of what like was before.

Farming, hunting, animal watching.

Barely did you touch your loom or carving tools, only when you needed a new utensil or blanket.

You hated it.

You missed her smile, and her laugh.

You sighed as you polished off another deer skull, taking a hammer and smashing it across a rock. Picking up the pieces, you take them to a small plot of land and begin to bury them beneath the tilled dirt.

though your eyes immediately met those of a dove, and you smiled.

“I’ll wait as long as you need, dove.”

It fluttered softly onto your upturned hand, cooing softly at you. Your eyes softened and you ran your free hand through the feathers on its head.

“As long as you need.”

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

Years passed without much thought.

You remained oblivious to the war raging on above you.

Angels blood was technically on your hands and you couldn’t be the wiser.

Masses fell into their graves, simply because you needed to morn.

And now here you were, staring into the sky in shock as you watched the body of the woman you loved streaked across it, obviously mortally wounded.

You cried, and with a yelp, leapt into action, rushing behind her as she fell.

Your weapons discarded, you ran through rivers, jumped over rocks and basically glided through fields, all to catch her.

You barely noticed when you left The Garden.

Rocks dug into the skin of your feet but that was the least of your worries as you screamed her name, begging the Father to wake you from this awful nightmare.

Your arms raised high to catch her, begging her to please land in your grasp, barely paying attention to the cliff before you-

You fell.

You had never fallen from such a hight before.

Your long hair billowed through the wind with your clothes as you watched through tears as she hit the earth.

Then you hit a cliff.

A *SNAP* rang through the air as you landed on your back, head over the edge, perfectly positioned to see her and her… brother?

Two other men came as your breathing shallowed, a conversation you were too far away to hear taking place before you, before the man with the leathery wings performed some kind of spell, and her body ignited in a flame.

Your vision grew blurry as blood seeped from your mouth, coughs mixed with crimson bubbles escaping your lips as she disappeared. Her brother - who you realized was Lucifer, though his color pallet was much different than what she described - kneeled before the men.

With what little strength you had left, you clasped your hands together.

‘My Father who art above, please heed this prayer. Let be me reborn and find my love once more. Let us continue to be the star crossed lovers we believed ourselves to be. Please Father… and if one must be punished let it be me, for I had forsaken her from your land when my mortal lips met hers. Allow me this repentance and… let me… see… her once… mo…r…’

Your thoughts were silenced as you slipped away.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

You hated that prick in the sky.

You had given Him your everything, pledged yourself to Him.

You thought He was merciful, well apparently not.

Hundreds of thousands of fucking years.

You’ve had to watch her descendants live their lives, always finding a way to bump into them.

If this was His idea of a cosmic joke, then you wanted to bash your fucking skull in.

I mean, you’ve tried but he made you immortal on top of everything.

You had been reborn, as you asked, then to find that she’d been reborn as a human too. Great! You even had all your memories so you assumed she had her and…

…

…And then you were getting invited to her wedding as her ‘best friend’.

Never did you ever think you could’ve experienced a pain like that, like your soul shattering and being crumbled into dust but there you were. Watching her get wed off.

And have children.

And die.

You grew numb after a while, because why wouldn’t you. Seeing them grow became a past time, seeing where they ended up and then how many people attended their funerals.

Morbid game but it helped pass the time.

You got to watch as humans evolved and took over the planet, eventually coming to a point where they might destroy it if they aren’t careful.

You’ve watched technology grow and tack over and magic users be forced into hiding.

You’ve watched kingdoms rise and fall, nations grow and shrink, the belief of Angels and Devils become lesser and lesser.

You remember when Solomon, the big bitch of magic users and demon pact collector extraordinaire, was born. That was fun.

You remember when The King of the Devildom went to sleep, that was also neat, though you’re pretty sure that happened just a while before you died… time was a blur.

And naturally, you remembered when the brothers officially became “The Demon Brothers.”

You never forgot.

When out with “friends” - they were more people you surrounded yourself with to numb the pain of life - you just said you had Hyperthymesia, which led to more questions and other shit you couldn’t be bothered with.

The Father only know how many times you’ve gone through Highschool and Collage for the hell of it, there was shit else to do and at this point you were a hidden billionaire with how long you lived, plus it was nice to stay up to date on current affairs.

You had cut and dyed your hair same near every color under the sun at the this point, now at (h/c) for the time being.

One of the shittiest parts, however, was your morals.

The Father must’ve thought he was the funniest fucker in reality because he basically singed the Seven Virtues onto your soul, the on top of that made you the living example of the Seven Sins.

You couldn’t do shit without feeling torn apart.

Couldn’t spend large amount of money on yourself without feeling the need to give it away, but when you did you just wanted more money.

Never got a good nights sleep anymore because part of your brain would want to stay up to make sure nothing bad happened.

Couldn’t gouge yourself on a mountain of food without wanting to hurl halfway through because it “was enough”.

So life was shit in every way.

And then, the fucking cherry on top?

When a friend - who you knew full well was a decadent of her - got a letters from the Devildom about some “exchange program”. They tossed it because they thought it was a scam, which was fair.

You only read it out of curiosity, and when you say your jaw dropped? I mean it fucking dropped.

You knew all about Diavolo’s little “re-connection” thing, had since he announced it really, but to see it actually coming to light was… an experience you weren’t expecting.

Honestly you didn’t want them to go.

This descendent, MC was their name - such a weird fucking name - was one of your favorites. They were a chaotic little shit and you lived for it. Unless you had to pull them from a problem they caused. Then you didn’t.

But soon you got involved with their shit and completely forgot.

And there you were when they got sucked to hell, hand in hand…

… Also handcuffed but we don’t talk about that-

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

“AW FUCK-“

“SHITTY TITTES AUGH-“

Both you and MC gripped each other, them screaming and you gritting your teeth with arms around them to protect them.

It took a second for them to stop and you to finally look up.

Before you was a judges seat with eight seats, five of which were filled. Though, a man stood beside the tallest standing seat.

Wait…

Orange, blond, strawberry blond, ravenette, red head - literally, and deep blue to teal?

Oh fuck-

The man in the tallest seat began to speak.

“Welcome to the Devildom MC… and friend?”

Diavolo looked down at the two of you, MC looking confused and you well… you looked uncomfortable but not unknowing.

“We can deal with that in a moment but, pardon my abrupt introduction. Feeling a bit shocked, I’m sure? Well that’s understandable, you’ve only just arrived, after all.”

MC looked around at the men confused and obviously scared while you just sighed with a hand pressed to your forehead. MC tried to stand only to trip back when the cuffs holding you both together. You noticed some of the brothers staring at you two, but you looked away. Diavolo seemed to ignore you both, however.

“As a human, it will probably take a little while for you to adjust to things here in the Devildom.”

“What the fuck is a Devildom-“ MC was cut off by a glare from Lucifer.

“Haha! Calm yourself Lucifer they were just asking a question! Now, before we introduce ourselves, who are you?”

You glanced over at the male and glanced at everyone else. Tugging on your shirt and running your hand through your hair, you finally met Diavolo’s eyes again.

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

“Now I call you dove, you ain’t got any kinda name f’ me?”

You both were sat on a cliff you had just recently found overlooking your home with a great view of the sky and sun, which was setting at the moment. She was sat beside you, head on your shoulder with you both in the grass. A small wind blew through, making your hair wave like a sea of gold. She ran a hand through your hair, you humming at the feeling.

Your easygoing grin made Lilith’s heart melt, but she focused up back on your question after a moment, humming.

“Well… I want it to mean something.” “Dove means somethin’!” Lilith giggled.

“Oh yeah, and what would that be?” “Well you’re an Angel… n’ doves are connected ta Angels n’ stuff…” you groaned after, shoving your face in your hands, causing the Angels laughter to grow.

“Don’t laugh at me! It was cute how you reacted when I first called ya it!” Lilith continued to laugh, you whining and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling close and placing her head on your chest. Then, you grabbed her face in a huff. You forced her to stare at you as she bit her tongue with blush on her cheeks.

Finally you both broke out into laughter, her falling onto you. You both fell back into the grass giggling. She laid on top of you and you both breathed and took the moment in.

“… I think I have an idea.”

You glanced at her. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you pulled her up and rested your head on top of her hers. She nuzzled into your neck.

“Idea for what, dove?” “A nickname.”

You smiled and looked down at her, causing her to look up.

“Well then get on with it, I’m excited as a cow to a good wooden post.” “A what… to a what?” “Heh, nothin’ dove.”

She smiled and snuggled into you.

“I think you deserve your own name. Not what they call you up there. Something like…”

‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧‧꒰˚ʚ🎀ɞ˚꒱ ‧

You stared Diavolo in the eyes, and smiled somberly.

“…(y/n).”

WOOO FINALLY I FUCKING FINISHED IT WOOOOOOO-

This has been sitting in my drafts for fucking months :)

Yes this will be getting a part two this is for me I’m the target audience-

My fucking hands man… they hurt-

Please god tell me someone appreciates this-

… is this my longest fic?-

[angelltheninth]

Scared of Makima? You should be. could you maybe do some toxic relationship headcanons for Denji, Ak, Power and Makima? I think it'd be different since I don't see anyone do these.

She is hot don't get me wrong but... fuck woman, dial it back a little, I can only take so much.

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa, Denji, Power, Makima x Reader

Tags: toxic relationships, possessive behavior, praise, manipulation, rewards, worshiping, cuddles, kisses, petnames, gifts, biting, protectiveness

A/N: I had way too much fun while writing these, more than I should have. It was just so funny to write it out, like one of those "what liking this character says about you" videos lmao. Also this goes without saying but if anyone treats you like this, get out, leave them, you deserve the best.

AKI HAYAKAWA

At first he's just very protective of you, which is understandable, you're his sweetheart, of course he wants to keep you safe

But oh boy it gets to be a little too much at times, he always texts or calls you, even when he's out in the field to make sure you have everything you need

Doesn't trust anyone else with your well being and has even threatened those who he feels could be a danger to you

Gives you lots of kisses and brings you little gifts when he comes from a mission

He is very dotting and attentive of your needs, almost a perfect boyfriend if he wasn't so damn worried about you all the time, almost suffocating at times

Even goes so far as to do a background check on your friends to make sure it's okay to be around them

DENJI

Clingy as all hell, he's constantly hugging you and nuzzling against you like a puppy

Thrives on any kind of praise and positive words, no he craves it from you, he wants to know he's making you as happy as he can, and if he's not then he'll bend over backwards to make it so

Has to kiss you whenever he can, alone, in public, even in front of his team he can't keep himself from giving you a quick smooch and telling you he loves you

Doesn't take well to being denied something from you, it's the only time you see him a little angry at you and withdrawn

Will be over the moon for you when you flirt with him, especially in public so everyone gets the message loud and clear, see who's gonna doubt how he has a hot partner then

POWER

Well for starters she has a bit of a complex about being worshiped by you so you have to reaffirm her all the time

She wants to be dotted on and cared for but she will return those a hundred times over and then even more

Takes your clothes without permission to show she's yours and always makes sure to leave bites of ownership on your neck so anyone who sees you knows you're taken

Kisses you even when she's covered in blood and gore, she has to assert her dominance in her team and make sure no one gets any ideas of stealing you from her, she's been known to glare at both Aki and Denji a lot when you're around

Wants to be spoiled with gifts, a lot of gifts and likes to go shopping a lot, buys matching bracelets so you could show off that you belong together

MAKIMA

Have you ever seen a walking, talking red flag? Well now you have, it's Makima, as crafty as she is beautiful, if not more so

She has chosen you to be her new beloved pet, you will be the recipient of all her affections for as long as you can amuse her

Praises you to no end when she's happy with you but is quick to either put you down or straight up ignore you when you mess up, she doesn't even tell you what you messed up, she keeps you guessing, further wanting her approval and love

Calls you cute petnames and gives you lots of cuddles and kisses when you do things right, her affection is your reward, and her denial your punishment

You need her, want her, and she will dangle that in front of you like a treat always just out of your reach

[theskysungqueen]

to make things brief cause I suck at organizing what I have to say, the live action was definitely Something™.

Cast: 10/10 kinda biased personally but yall can't take this from me

Gordon as Aang and Dallas as Zuko were the standouts imo. Gordon needs some direction on line delivery and the angstier scenes but overall he's very charming and I'm so proud of him for getting so much exposure!

Ian as Sokka was great, I just wish he was allowed to be more...messy? like Sokka pretends to be chill and all that but he's actually dramatic so I hope that gets improved in the next season if there is one

speaking of improvement, Kiawentiio as Katara brought out a softer side to the character but sadly diminished her spark and passion. I like that Katara now actually feels like a younger sister, it makes sense within the context of the story that Sokka and Gran Gran would shelter her after what happened, but as someone said, her anger is so central to her character and I just wish that got shown more. It's more of a script and direction problem tbh, if you look at Kia's interviews she has the sass and feistiness Katara needs

Lizzy as Azula is great, the writing is a bit clunky though so she did the best she could with it. Can't really comment on Mai and Ty Lee yet because they're kinda just there but it's a nice setup

Maria as Suki? perfection show stopping never the same she is a queen and I love the tidbit of Suki backstory which she never really had in the og show. I love her being such a loser around her crush we love to see girlfailures girlfailing. I wish the writers didn't make them KISS though 😭 slowburn ftw

the adults were great

Writing: 6.5/10

There were genuinely good moments and I love the concept of mixing up certain plot points to condense the story

But they just suffered from too much Telling instead of Showing WRITERS PLEASE LISTEN TO THE CRITICISM YOU HAVE TIME TO IMPROVE PLEASE

Omashu, mechanist, and Jet plot mixing as a concept was fine, but it dragged on and my friends and I got bored of it. I like it in theory but if it was going to take THAT long couldn't they have just separated one of those storylines for a different episode?

I appreciate that they tried to develop the water siblings' relationship by making them the stars of the Secret Tunnels, but I would've changed the way they "conquered" the problem (really? badgermoles respond to love? cute in theory but like why). If anyone's watched Barbie: A Fairy Secret there's a part where Barbie and her frenemy accuse each other of why their friendship failed, and it helps them make up and breaks the curse put on them. So that's what I would've done, force them in a life or death situation in which they have to say the unsaid things, maybe hug it out and boom

The way they handled Koh and the Spirit World was a Mess™ but the effects were decent

Zhao meeting horrible ends in every incarnation is so deserved

Yue having more agency was a welcome change AND I LOVE THAT SHE WATERBENDS. Then waterbends even when the moon is gone. It's such a nice visual nod to the fact that she has the moon spirit within her

That said, the show could definitely use more visual storytelling, less weird dialogue. Like it's so strangely common for shows or adaptations these days to exposition dump. Like they did not have to make Yue say that the ocean spirit was angry, literally just show me the dead moon fish and I'll get the idea. Then Iroh says "That's Wrath" that's just redundant now isn't it

I like that they saved Katara bringing Aang out of the Avatar State until last even if it could've been done better

HOW DARE THEY MAKE ME LIKE HAHN HE WAS A JERK IN THE SHOW BUT THEY MADE HIM A GENUINELY GOOD CHARACTER. Yes to brown men not being portrayed as jerks but also in the original it was a nice contrast to how far Sokka had come because Hahn reflected who he used to be. But live action Hahn </3

I like that they showed the deaths and blood. I wanted a live action that was both lighthearted but more realistic when it came to the injuries and death, and that'd kind of what I got

Other thoughts + overall

You can tell they put so much heart into this show, watching the bts, the bending boot camp with the correct martial arts, the easter eggs, the nods to the comics, the beautiful adaptations of Cabbage Merchant and Secret Tunnel nomads, there's so much passion behind the show it's a shame it suffered in its writing

which is why if they read reviews and criticism from the bigger name fans (TheAvatarist, HelloFutureMe, etc.) it would really help them improve for future seasons! The cast is stunning already and they have great chemistry (hopefully gets improved too!)

The live action is just a different angle to the show. And I'm saying this as an Avatar fan–the original wasn't perfect, either. I had some problems w it but the overall show was genuinely so good and heartfelt, those problems weren't glaring enough to put me off (unlike The Dragon Prince, sorry). The live action definitely wasn't perfect, but it tried to give us a new look into Avatar. Again, no adaptation will ever be a 1:1 remake and none should be. Where's the fun in that? But while the show is so full of heart and with actual fans working behind the scenes, I doubt if they listen to any criticism that they can't pull this off better next season.