#edit to add: what if everyone is in grey except him?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelguk · 3 years

Note

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence.

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?).

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut.

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow.

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up.

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead.

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled.

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt.

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to.

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head.

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way.

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too.

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks.

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside.

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone.

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed.

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance.

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his.

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces.

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck.

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away.

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #au: jock!jaykay #i really abused the hyphen in this but oh well

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writtenfangirl · 3 years

Text

A Special Fabrikator pt. 2

A Kaz Brekker Fanfic

Since so many people asked, I had to make a part two!

I wanted to write one in Kaz's POV just cause morally grey characters hold a special place in my heart.

I was way too excited to post this so I'll have to edit it again for grammatical errors and spelling errors so I hope you can bear with it!

Part 1

If Jesper uttered one more idiotic sentence, Kaz might actually punch him. In the face. With a chair.

He shouldn’t blame his mild-mannered friend, of course not. Jesper was one of his lieutenants and one of Y/N's closest friends. When they had learned that Y/N had disappeared, they had all gone in a panic.

The most recent job that they had done had ended in a shootout that nearly took Kaz’s life. They had all decided to lay low for a while before they went to enjoy the spoils of their efforts so it wasn’t exactly an unnatural occurrence not to hear from any of the Crows for a while, even Y/N.

But then Inej had started to worry. She hadn’t heard from Y/N in nearly two weeks which, according to her, was unusual. And so she went straight to Kaz and reported his missing… lover?

The word seemed wrong, almost foreign. Kaz hadn’t tried to initiate a relationship with Y/N despite the words uttered after the shootout. They’d held hands, sure, but even Kaz knew that to other people, holding hands were things friends did too. And the kiss that they’d shared in the Slat had ended so abruptly, the only thing that kept Kaz from thinking it was an imagination concocted by his head was his embarrassment and Y/N’s look of hurt as he pushed her away.

Her look of hurt somehow always managed to wiggle its way in his mind, burrowing beneath it like an unwanted parasite. Every time he looked at her, he saw that flash of hurt and the disgust he felt at himself for pushing her away deepened.

He imagines that her look of hurt, the unshed tears, the vulnerability in her eyes played at her face right now as she was probably kept locked up and beaten.

He knew that Y/N would never break. Not for anyone, not even for him. She was special that way. She would bow to nobody but herself and if there was one look she would be shooting at her captors, it would be a look of pure, white hot hatred and malice.

But knowing that didn’t exactly clear his mind of his awful thoughts and every time he thought of her hurt expression being seem by her captors, he saw only red.

With Y/N being a part of the Dregs, she didn’t have a shortage of enemies. Kaz had often used her for intimidation. Her face when she was angry was usually enough to make grown men wet themselves before running. Add to the fact that Y/N was an extremely skilled fighter as well as her fearsome reputation for drinking the blood of her enemies—a rumor that Jesper had spread at the behest of Y/N in an attempt to make her even more intimidating to their adversaries—the list of possible suspects grew each day.

Kaz’s frustrations were mounting. He hadn’t slept since Inej had told him that Y/N had gone missing and that was three days ago and he knew he would never rest until Y/N was back to him.

“Kaz, what if… what if instead of finding Y/N, we find her body instead?” Jesper asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

This is it. He’s going to punch Jesper.

The rest of the Crows, with the exception of Wylan, who was notably absent as he followed a lead he'd heard, looked at him, looks of quiet acceptance in their faces. They had all been thinking this and Kaz knew he shouldn’t blame Jesper simply because he had the guts to voice out his thoughts while the others didn’t.

“Then we find her body and we avenge her,” Kaz replied, his voice as hard as gravel.

If Kaz had to raze all of Ketterdam to find Y/N, he would happily light the match and burn it to the ground. He didn’t care if he had to leave a bloody trail of bodies behind him to find her. He will hurt anyone, kill everyone if it meant she came back to him safe.

“It’s been three days,” Inej said, twisting her hands nervously. “We’ve looked everywhere. Asked every gang. If she’s alive, we should have found something by now.”

“And if she’s dead, her body would have turned up.” Kaz snapped at the Suli girl. “She couldn’t have been missing that long.”

“Kaz,” Nina said, her voice full of worry. “Y/N means a lot to all of us but—“

“We are not giving up!” Kaz’s fist slammed against the table causing the items laid on top of it rattle. The map of Ketterdam that was laid on top of it was full of markings, places where they’d looked and asked around for information. Kaz had pulled nearly all of his favors, only for it to end in dead ends.

“And we’re not telling you to give up,” Nina insisted. “But you haven’t slept since you found out Y/N was missing. That was three days ago. You’re exhausted and you’re not thinking straight right now. If Y/N was here, and one of us were missing, she’d force you to sleep too.”

“Nina’s right,” Matthias agreed, his Fjerdan accent thick. “We will keep searching. You need rest. If we find something we will wake you.”

“You think Y/N is resting?”

“Kaz, the bags under your eyes are darker than your suit. You need to rest. I’m not giving you a choice,” Nina said determinedly. “I’ll put you to sleep if I have to. I—“

The door to Kaz’s study slammed open, revealing a sweaty and panting Wylan. His alabaster skin was flushed and his flaming red hair was plastered on his forehead. Kaz would have thought he’d brought bad news if it wasn’t for the bright, blazing look in his eyes. “I know where she is and I know who’s holding her.”

Kaz didn’t think he’d come back here again.

He wasn’t a big fan of the place. The mansion’s imposing walls, despite their pristine appearance, reminded him a little too much of a prison.

The one good thing about the place was his memories of Y/N in her beautiful dress of silk and velvet. They had danced once, at the party and Y/N had held on to his gloved hand so tightly, it was like she wished to feel his skin on hers. Kaz almost wished that he could touch her, if only a little. Then that stupid, grubby little merchant dragged her away to another dance, sullying the memory.

Now he just wants to burn the stupid mansion away.

Kaz strolled down the driveway, his pace emanating a casual elegance that he spent years drilling into his body. He was dressed impeccably well and the bags under his eyes that Nina had said was darker than his suit had disappeared thanks to Nina’s tailoring abilities. He hadn’t slept in days but he didn’t even feel the least bit tired. All he felt was rising anticipation, a roiling feeling that churned in his gut. The sound of his cane hitting the manicured stone pathway seemed to echo against the silent air.

The likelihood that this was a trap was astoundingly high and although he’d plan contingency plans with the rest of the Crows, his scheming could only get him so far. There were too many variables he didn’t know, too many things that could go wrong, too many ways it could go wrong. He couldn’t possibly plan an attack against all sides, not like this. His skill set, after all, was playing the long game. It’s what made him such a good thief. His patience and analytical mind made it so that he could see everything that could go wrong and plan for it. It took him weeks, months, to plan heist after heist. Today, he only had a few hours. It didn’t help that his skill set involved stealing and not hostage negotiations.

His footsteps were steady, betraying none of the nervousness he felt. He couldn’t see Inej but he knew that she was likely already positioned on the rooftop of the mansion, awaiting his signa;. Jesper and Wylan were doing their part in securing the plan by placing the necessary explosives around the mansion while Matthias and Nina took out the guards surrounding the perimeter.

Two, large men greeted him at the entrance, their faces brutally scarred and angry. They opened the door and let him in the mansion and when he was through, he saw them come in after him, this time guarding the exit.

Gone were the party decorations from a few weeks ago. Without the presence of people, the mansion felt cold and desolate.

The merchant, dressed just as impeccably well as Kaz, strutted forward, the image of casual grace. “Mr. Kuznetsov if I remember correctly?”

Kaz didn’t say anything. He simply schooled his features into a blank, unreadable look.

“Perhaps your real name, Kaz Brekker, is more fitting,” the merchant said with a magnanimous smile.

“I don’t have time for your games. Where is she?” Kaz said in his deep, raspy voice.

A thoughtful look passed the merchant’s face, like he couldn’t possibly know who Kaz was talking about. “Ah. Did you mean, Y/N? She’s quite special, though I’m sure you know that. Would you like a drink, Mr. Brekker? I could have my servants fetch us a round.”

Kaz hadn’t even replied before the merchant clapped his hands and a quivering Suli servant girl emerged from the shadows. Blood dripped down the sides of her face from fresh cuts and it was purple from numerous bruises. She couldn’t have been older than 15.

“Drinks for my guest,” the merchant told the young girl.

The girl bowed her head.

“QUICKLY!” The merchant said in a sudden explosion of anger, his once benevolent facade dropping. The girl flinched at her master’s tone but nonetheless scurried off with a squeak.

“It’s so difficult to train Suli girls,” The merchant said, almost glumly. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Mr. Brekker? You keep quite an assortment of... strange friends.”

A deep feeling of fury flashed through Kaz like a bolt of electricity. How dare he mention Inej after he took Y/N. Kaz’s face was still composed in that same blank look and if it wasn’t for his grip tightening around his cane, people wouldn’t even know that the merchant's words affected him.

Luckily for Kaz, the merchant was too much of an idiot to even notice the subtle action.

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself,” Kaz said in his gravelly voice, low and dangerous like the rumble of a tiger before their ferocious roar. “Where is she?”

“Your a smart man, Mr. Brekker. I’m sure you know what I want back.”

“Your money.”

“No.” The merchant said with a sniff. “10 million kruge, though a considerably large amount of money, is something I can quickly make after six months of work. I want my ledger.”

The merchant’s ledger was a tiny black book full of names, ages, dates and amounts of money. The merchant had the names of all his slaves and the slaves he’d ever sold written on it. It was incriminating evidence that could land the merchant in prison if it was conveniently left behind at the right places.

Kaz had, by happenstance, stumbled upon it when he snooped around at the party. He’d taken it with him and it was likely why the merchant was particularly vengeful. Money gets stolen around Ketterdam all the time. Proof of guilt? Rarely.

Kaz pulled open the flap of his coat, reaching inside to grasp the small black book. He opened it at the first page that showed the merchant’s name written in his elegant script.

The merchant reached for it but before his fingers could so much as feel the leather-bound cover, Kaz snapped it shut and slipped it back in his coat.

“You don’t play nice do you, Mr. Brekker?”

“I don’t play at all. Where is Y/N?”

“I could have you killed right now. You and her. The ledger’s already with you.”

“You could. But then, you wouldn’t know how many of my strange friends have copies of that ledger.”

The merchant’s pale blue eyes narrowed into a glare before he said “Follow me.”

The merchant led him up one of the winding staircases of his home before stopping at a door in the second floor. He opened it, revealing a dark room that smelled rank with the scent of spoiled, rotten blood.

The merchant reached out into the darkness and Kaz heard the clicking sound of a light switch. Orange light flooded the empty room. Empty, save for the person hanging by the chain and shackles wrapped around their wrists. The person was a mess of blood and sweat, their face so impossibly swollen that it wound have been hard to identify who it was. The girl looked up, her E/C eyes clear and alert and Kaz knew exactly who the person was.

“Kaz?” Y/N said, her voice feeble and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if she was really seeing Kaz or a delusion of him.

It took every bit of Kaz’s restraint not to rush to Y/N and cradle her in his arms. And it took even more of him not to beat the merchant beside him and make him hurt the same way he hurt Y/N.

“I’m sorry, Kaz,” Y/N wheezed. “I didn’t tell them anything, I promise. I didn’t—“ a cough racked her chest and a spray of blood bubbled from her lips.

“We beat her for seven days,” the merchant said nonchalantly, like he was just discussing the state of the weather. “Seven days and she didn’t break. She really is special. It’s a good thing your strange friend found me when he did. I was about to cut off her fingers.”

“Can you walk?” Kaz asked Y/N in straight Ravkan.

“He broke my legs,” she answered back in straight Ravkan. A look of pain passed her face. “I can’t put pressure on it.”

“Can you use your abilities?”

“No. My hands are tied and even if it wasn’t, I haven’t slept in seven days. My mind can’t focus.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” The answer came fast, like that was the one thing she was sure of.

The merchant, studied their exchange. “My father hired tutors to teach me Ravkan, did you know? Pity I was never a studious child. I abhor the language. It sounds terribly barbaric in my opinion.”

“Good thing we didn’t ask for your opinion,” Y/N spat in Kerch.

Quicker than Kaz could anticipate, the merchant had sent a fist flying, straight towards Y/N’s nose. Blood gushed from it, a steady trickling stream of red. Y/N didn't even let out a cry of pain. Insted, she simply sent the merchant a venomous smirk.

“I don’t take kindly to my investments being damaged,” Kaz said, his tone a thinly veiled threat.

“Is that what you call her? An investment? Horrible investment if I ever saw one.”

“And yet you called me special just a few minutes ago. Are you being mean simply because you’re hurt I jilted you? That's horribly childish. You're not my type. I like my men tough, something you clearly aren't."

Another punch to the face, this one hard enough that Kaz was sure even the merchant was hurt by his blow. Kaz’s grip on his cane tightened, it made his hand hurt.

Y/N let out a loud, breathy, wheezing sound that Kaz could only call a mocking laugh. “Is that the best you can do? My grandmother can hit harder than you and she’s dead.”

The merchant made another move to hit Y/N but this time, Kaz had his cane up, catching the merchant off guard with a giant blow at the back of his head before the merchant could land another hit. He crumpled to the ground by Y/N’s feet without so much as a protest. Y/N spat a wad of blood at his head as she said, “Weak.”

Kaz fished his lock pick out of one of his pockets and unchained Y/N. She landed to the floor with a loud thud, letting out a pained whine as she went. Kaz limped towards the window located at the back of the room and opened the latch, letting out a loud and swift whistle. He stepped back and moments later, Inej leapt through the small window.

Upon seeing her fallen friend, Inej let out a curse, rushing towards Y/N.

From outside the door, Kaz could hear the sound of two footsteps, one heavy and the other light. He pulled the door open and peeked out to see Matthias and Nina. “She’s in here.”

Nina entered the small room and gasped at the sight of Y/N’s injured frame. “I ought to kill him. Inej can’t kill him but I will.” She casted a look of hatred towards the fallen merchant. “He deserves a painful death for what he’s done.”

“We don’t have time,” Kaz said, even though he wholly agreed. “Wylan and Jesper’s rigged this place to blow at any minute. Matthias, Y/N can’t walk.”

The Fjerdan nodded and ducked into the room, scooping Y/N’s fragile frame.

Inej had walked over to the corner of the room, setting into place an explosive device that Wylan had rigged. Inej gave Kaz a nod, signaling that the explosive is well and truly activate.

“Let’s move out,” Kaz commanded and they each all filed out of the room, leaving the unconscious merchant locked in.

“Nina, Matthias, you’re sure you got the slaves out?” Kaz asked the two as they descended the stairs that the merchant had led him through.

Nina nodded. “We’re sure. The only person left in here is the merchant.”

The exited the building and found Wylan and Jesper waiting for them by the entrance.

“Getaway horses,” Jesper said, leading them down the winding pathway that lead to the mansion where several horses waited for them. “Asshole only has one carriage and it can only fit two people.”

“Does Y/N have any injuries that you need to immediately tend to, Nina?” Kaz asks the heartrender.

“No. I managed to heal her broken ribs on the way here,” Nina replied. “She should be able to survive the rest of the journey.

“Then I’m staying with Y/N,” Kaz said without hesitation. “Jesper drives the carriage and the rest of you leaves on horseback.”

The other Crows gave him firm nods and Matthias loads Y/N on to the carriage.

“Wylan,” Kaz barks when he was in the carriage, with Y/N’s head resting on his lap. “Blow it up.”

Wylan simply fished his detonator from his pocket and pressed a button. After a second, Kaz heard the sound of explosions and the bright sight of a thousand explosions activating all at once. In a few minutes, the whole mansion was engulfed in flames. They were far enough that no debris flew towards them but close enough that Kaz could still feel the oppressive heat of the explosion.

They left after a few minutes without a single trace that they were even there in the first place.

The sound of Y/N’s screams echoed around the Slat, a piercing yell that rattled around Kaz’s chest, squeezing his heart so tightly that for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

“Nina, just put me to sleep,” Y/N begged, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t keep—“

There was another loud crack as another of Y/N’s broken fingers were snapped back by Matthias and another piercing scream erupted from Y/N. Inej winced at the sound but nonetheless stayed put.

“I’m sorry,” Nina said shakily, close to tears herself at what she was forced to do to her friend. “I’m so sorry. I can’t knock you out. You have a brain injury and if I put you to sleep you might not wake up.”

“Then fix that first!” Jesper said as he paced around the room.

“I can’t!” Nina snapped at the sharpshooter. “There’s only so much I can do to her brain before I damage it. It needs my full attention. Her broken fingers and all of her other injuries are easy and fast enough to heal but the brain takes time.”

“But you’re breaking her fingers!”

“Because that bastard merchant broke them first. If I don’t break it again, they’ll set this way. We have to straighten the fingers or she may never hold anything ever again.”

“Just do it!” Y/N said, her teeth gritted. A sheen of sweat covered her now clean and unmarred face and Kaz was certain that some of the wetness on her face came from her tears. Her eyes, though decorated with large and dark bags, were wide and alert, as if any moment now, someone will barge through the door of her room and attack.

“Y/N, this is the last one.”

“I said just do it!”

Nina nodded to Matthias, who bent another one of Y/N’s fingers. A new round of screams erupted from her.

A slew of curse words flew from Y/N's mouth, as she panted in pain. "I think I actually hate you, Nina. I love you but Saints I hate you so much right now."

Nina cracked a small smile. "That seems like a lie."

"It is." Y/N said, reaching for the water on her nightstand. Before she could grasp the cup, Inej already had it in her hand, helping Y/N drink from the cup.

“You know, Jesper, Inej and I had a running bet that with my room being so small, Matthias couldn’t fit in here. I guess we all owe each other a bit of money.” Y/N said after a few mouthfuls of water.

“You all bet against me?” Matthias asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Just them. I was always on your side, Matthias.”

“You liar,” Inej accused with a smile. “You bet against him first. Jesper and I just agreed with you.”

“That doesn’t sound like me. I always have faith in my friends. Like I always knew that you would find me. That it was just a matter of time.” This time, her eyes shifted, meeting Kaz’s own. “All I had to do was wait it out and you would find me.”

“We should have found you sooner,” Wylan frowned.

“We were so scared that you were already dead,” Jesper sighed. “That instead of you, we would find your body.”

“Kaz didn’t even sleep for three days,” Inej chimed, sharing a secretive look with Jesper. “He wouldn’t rest until he found you.”

Y/N’s eyes shifted towards him again, dancing with an emotion that he couldn’t describe. “Really?”

Inej and Jesper shared another look, a small smirk curling at the edges of both their lips. “Yes. It was almost like he—“

Kaz cleared his throat, interrupting Inej. Embarrassment crept up at his neck at the thought of Y/N finding out about his feelings for her. “I need to protect my investments.”

“You never had to pay a single cent to get me,” Y/N snorted though a smile was starting to form on her lips. Kaz knew right then and there that he would do anything to protect that smile. “I was never indentured like Inej and unlike Jesper, I don’t have a gambling addiction.”

“You spend more than the other Crows.”

“I do not!” Y/N said indignantly. “Look at my room. There’s hardly anything in here.”

“That’s because you give away most of the things you buy.”

“Well—“ She paused and a guilty look crossed her face. “Okay, you have a point, Brekker. But in my defense, it’s not like I give them away to strangers.”

Kaz could barely count the number of times Y/N had bought something and given it to him. Most of the clothes in his closer was given by her as were some the knickknacks he kept and Kaz was absolutely positive that the others were exactly the same. Even if Y/N didn’t have a lot of things for herself and her room was empty save for her furniture, she permeated the spaces around her. Kaz couldn’t look around the Slat or the Crow Club without seeing something Y/N bought.

“I think your brain injury is starting to heal,” Nina said as she examined Y/N’s wide and alert eyes. “Do you feel nauseous? Disoriented?”

Y/N shook her head.

“You're alert and you’re speaking straight sentences. Do you feel any pain?”

“No.”

“Good. Now you can rest.”

“You’re telling me you could have knocked me out this whole time and instead you let me feel all that pain? Nina Zenik, you truly are a monster.”

Nina let out a laugh. “The monster who healed you right up. Can you move your fingers?”

Y/N moved her hands deftly, as though she had never been injured in the first place.

“The pain in your leg should disappear in a few days,” Nina said, standing up from the bed. “You can rest now. I’ll come check on you tomorrow morning.”

Kaz, who still sat at the foot of Y/N’s bed, sent Inej a quiet look. The Suli girl ushered the rest of the Crows out of Y/N’s room almost immediately, leaving him and Y/N in silence.

Kaz’s focus was wholly on Y/N. Despite her clean face, Kaz could never erase from his mind Y/N’s broken face. The bruises and the blood, the matted hair, the almost crazed look in her eyes as she laughed at the merchant who beat her. He would never forget her screams of pain, the tormented look in her eyes as her bones were broken over and over and over again. All he had to do was close his eyes and he would see all of it.

“I’m sorry,” Kaz said into the silence. “I should have found you sooner.”

“You found me a lot sooner than I expected if I was being honest,” Y/N replied weakly. “I thought I’d have to hold out longer. Maybe another week.”

“I would never have let that happen.”

“I know. It’s why you don’t have to apologize.” Y/N was looking at him earnestly, like she truly wanted Kaz to believe that there was nothing to forgive about what happened to her. Her hands were placed openly on her lap, so close to him that it wouldn’t take much of an effort for Kaz to reach out and hold it against his own.

“What happened to me happened because I’m a Crow through and through,” Y/N continued to say. “Inej could have just as easily been taken or Nina or Jesper or Wylan or, Saints, even Matthias could have been taken. Being kidnapped and tortured, it’s an occupational hazard. Don’t take it personally. If I wasn’t stolen by the merchant, any of the other gangs could have stolen me. It’s why it took you so long to find me, right? You searched them first.”

Kaz simply nodded, confirming her theory.

It was silent for a few moments before Y/N spoke again. “When did you learn fluent Ravkan?”

“From Nina. I asked her for extra lessons,” Kaz answered honestly. A rising blush threatened to creep up his face as he spoke the next words. “I wanted to surprise you with it.”

“Surprise me with it?” A look of shock entered Y/N’s face.

“You rarely have a chance to speak Ravkan in Ketterdam. I thought you might want another person to talk to in Ravkan aside from just Nina.”

Y/N’s look of surprise softened into one that Kaz couldn’t describe. All he knew was that he would do anything to have her look at him like that everyday of his life.

“Thank you,” she whispered in Ravkan.

“I should let you rest,” Kaz said in Ravkan, making a move to stand.

“Wait!” Y/N said suddenly, tugging at Kaz’s coat. “I—“ a blush dusted her cheeks. “I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes… Do you think you can stay with me? Just for a little bit?”

This time it was Kaz’s turn to be surprise.

She wanted him to stay?

“You can even lay here,” Y/N said as she shifted to the left of her bed, patting the now unoccupied right side. “I just need someone to ground me so I can fall asleep. I promise not to touch you. Please, just stay with me.”

Kaz didn’t move as he studied Y/N’s face. Her eyes held a deep rooted fear, one that Kaz suspected came from the recent trauma that she’s experienced. She was absolutely terrified and Kaz couldn’t blame her.

So he removed his coat, hung it on one of Y/N’s bed post, pulled his gloves away and place it on Y/N's nightstand, kicked off his boots and laid down next to Y/N. Almost immediately, her body relaxed. Her unbound hair framed her face, her eyelids fluttering softly as sleep threatened to take her. Kaz could feel his own tiredness catching up to him, his eyelids pulling itself down.

“Thank you,” She whispered again in Ravkan, her voice soft and sleepy. “For saving my life.”

Kaz took Y/N's hands in his. He was so tired, he couldn't even feel the tide of fear that usually came when he touched other people. Instead all he could feel was her.

He was sure that he was going to fall asleep right then and there. Kaz pressed Y/N's hand against his chest, the motion swift and decisive.

Holding hands may be a trivial thing to other people but to Kaz, it meant the entire world. Somehow, despite the vulnerability of their situation, he felt safe. Like he was at home where nothing and no one could harm him. The words that came out of him were an echo of the words that Y/N had told him just a few weeks before. "Anytime, Y/N. Anytime."

#kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker x reader #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #six of crows #wylan van eck #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker oneshot #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows series #six of crows oneshot #six of crows fanfiction #matthias helvar #nina zenik #ketterdam

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asterekmess · 3 years

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Been seeing you getting hate mail and while I absolutely can't understand why anyone would go to all the trouble to make some one else feel bad... I also kinda really love the discourse on Scott? Like YOUR RANTS oh man. On point. Always. Tbh I tried giving Scott a chance... He is the main char after all... But I was like??? Wtf? That dude does nothing but refute others and does whatever he wants. And this was when I didn't particularly like Stiles either (first time watching Teen Wolf). But then I got to know more of him and like Tony he went asshole to lovable asshole—seriously, Stiles might not be the ‘nicest’ but he tries and his heart is in good place—while Scott is just... self-righteous. Someone pointed out that he sees people as possessions and that irks me too that I can actually see it being true. The dude has literally nothing going on except for being the one that gets bitten. And the Romeo-and-Juliet-esque romance he has.

Okay, okay, where was I going with this?? Right. LOVE YOUR RANTS. People need to understand that Scott not being liked isn't because of his race or anything trivial like it—he just happens to be—but because of his actions. Or inactions, as it were. *remembers the pool scene and Scott saying he's busy and resists the urge to chuck a shoe at him*

Basically, love you, love your work, and love your words! ❤️

I've talked with some friends about it, and our number one issue sort of...boiled down to the hypocrisy of the show? I....sort of rant a lot here, and I would add a Read More, but I can't find the option anymore?? I fucking hate Tumblr. EDIT: I found a post that told me how to do it!

So, since he's the character I focus on the most, let's talk about Stiles' morality. Because, you're right. Stiles is an asshole. He does some fucking awful shit in the first season, and even if he had a Reason to do it, it was still bad. And I still don't like it. But I understand it.

Stiles' lack of shits about what is 'lawful' is literally established in the first ten seconds of the show. He's a sheriff's son who sneaks onto people's roofs in the middle of the night bc they aren't answering his calls, who listens in on his dad's work conversations and is willing to fuck up a crime scene because he's so excited about getting to see a dead body. He doesn't care about laws. He doesn't even care about most basic manners (invasion of privacy much, with having Scott sniff Lydia to see if she liked him?). He's a dickhead, even to the people he cares about sometimes. But personality and morality aren't the same. Stiles' entire actual morality system is based around whatever he needs to do to keep the people he loves safe and happy. Lying to his dad so he doesn't get murdered by hunters? Totally fine. Telling Scott that it was "Jackson's own fault" that Scott attacked him with superstrength and dislocated his shoulder, so Scott doesn't feel like an asshole? That's just best friend duties! He will lie, steal, cheat, and he will kill to keep his loved ones safe (let's not forget this boy threw molotovs at Peter, knowing damn well what they would do to him). We can headcanon all we want about all the different people who are in this group of loved ones, but the list is canonically very short: Scott, his dad, and Lydia. Later on, like, past s3B? It includes Derek. Canonically. Stiles puts his life and the lives of others he cares about on the line while he lies to the matriarch of the Calavera hunter clan, to save Derek Hale. Derek is just canonically a part of that group now, and he fucking knows it bc Stiles is his anchor (that's canon too bb). End of Story, Sterek or no Sterek. It's why we get that insane number of lookbacks when Derek is dying before his evolution. Because Stiles is being forced to choose between two people who are BOTH in his ride-or-die group. He Cannot Pick between Scott and Derek, until Derek begs him to leave.

SO, yes, Stiles does fuckface things, and I don't always agree with what he does, but it is ACCURATE TO HIS CHARACTER. He is morally grey. He NEVER CLAIMS to be pure or good or just or righteous. Stiles knows who he is, and he stays true to himself. And I love him for that.

The same goes for a bunch of other characters! For Peter, who is strikingly similar to Stiles, in that family goes above literally everything. Screw the idea that he was following Derek around waiting for the chance to steal back the Alpha spark. That man put his life on the line (his second life, no less) to get the shit beaten out of him until Derek let him help save Derek's life Again and Again. Family Comes First.

Scott's morality is...confusing as fuck. I thought at first he was similar to Stiles, in that family came first, but...while he's protective of his mother, he also does a lot of stuff that puts her at risk without seeming to care/worry (like leaving Peter alone with her once Stiles hits their car, so he can chase Jackson) (or asking her to come to the high school when he's convinced there's a bomber in it)? Seriously, he's more protective over Allison, than his mother. It's very black and white the rest of the time. Very "this bad" "this good." And if you do "bad" then you are bad forever, while if you do "good" you are only good until you do "bad." The Betas were "good" until they asked for the bite, and then they were "Bad." Derek was "bad" when Scott met him and scared him, so after that, no matter how much "good" he did, he remained "bad." But only when it suits him. Allison is good even when she does bad, because he wants her to be good. Chris is good even though he's done mountains of bad, because of the minuscule amount of good that Scott has seen him do, because Scott wants him to be good. Even DEUCALION is good, despite the crazy CRAZY amount of bad he's done and despite having seen him do NO GOOD, just because Scott wants him to be good. Lying to those closest to you is bad, unless Scott is doing it, and then it's good, because he knows HE is good. Killing people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Letting villains go is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Biting people is bad, unless Scott is doing it. Protecting family is good even if it requires killing or lying, unless it's not Scott doing it. Revenge for past slights is good, unless it's not SCOTT doing it. And you try to understand it! You try to say, okay, then he's morally grey, got it. He plays with the rules to suit his own morality, whatever. Except that Scott, the other characters, and THE SHOW ITSELF, are all telling you otherwise! They all say that Scott is morally pure. That he is good and righteous and lawful. That he always does the "right" thing, and that when he does "bad" things, it's justified and he had to. THE HEAVENS THEMSELVES say Scott is somehow better or more righteous than the other characters by MAKING HIM AN ALPHA OUT OF NOWHERE. (I'm talking abt canon here, not going into deaton conspiracy theories) It's like....Like in the hate mail response I did, where I pointed out that Every Single Thing people get angry at Derek for doing, Scott did too. Lying, killing (or at least attempting it), attacking innocents, losing his temper, keeping secrets, refusing to work with someone who could help, etc etc etc. Everything Derek has done that is morally "wrong," Scott has also done. And that's okay! Doing a bad thing doesn't make you a bad person, and even if it did, Scott is ALLOWED to be bad! GO FOR IT.

Except that he is sinless. It isn't that he learns from the bad things he does, it's that they aren't treated like bad things in the first place. Because Scott did it, and Scott always does the right thing.

Derek's behavior is reprehensible at times, but the show ADMITS that and frames it as bad. Frames it as him doing a bad thing when he scares Isaac or throws Peter or tells Erica who to date. And that's fine, because Derek is established as not being morally pure.

But SCOTT IS. And because they were so desperate to make him continue being "Pure" they didn't frame the things he did as wrong, or if they did, they absolved him of it immediately, using the exact same reasoning that works for Derek's situations, but this time Actually Accepting it.

He scares Stiles, well it's because he's scared. He throws Isaac, it's because he's upset. He attacks Jackson well it's because Jackson was being a dick. He orders Allison to date Matt, well he had a goal to accomplish. Every reason is treated like a fucking doctor's note that erases the bad things he does.

Being scared, or angry, or retaliating to someone being an asshole, or trying to protect himself, was NEVER a good enough reason for Derek to do ANYTHING "Bad." It was never an acceptable excuse.

IF IT WERE: If the show were making a statement about how fallable people are, how they do bad things, but they do them for a REASON. How people will do wild and terrible things out of fear, and how that doesn't make it less bad, but it makes it understandable, so don't demonize them out of nowhere. If that were the case, I would HAVE BEEN FINE WITH IT.

Scott is held to COMPLETELY different standards than everyone else in the show! And I DON'T mean that people held him to higher ones. They dropped that bar so fucking low. Anything was allowed, and any excuse was good enough.

He made out with a girl who was dating someone else, who his best friend was in love with? It's just the full moon, he's angsty about losing Allison. He ducttapes Liam to a bathtub and starts throwing random phrases at him that he hated Derek for saying to him? He's freaked out! He doesn't know what to do with a bitten wolf! It was an accident! He works with a mass murderer behind people's backs without telling them the whole story? Am I talking about Gerard or Deucalion? Who fucking knows. Either way, it's okay, because he was protecting his family. He plots to murder a cancer patient slowly and painfully by replacing meds that likely included painkillers with mountain ash, and the uses someone else's body to deliver the killing blow, and it's okay because he was just being smart! He was just working ten steps ahead! He was saving his mom and the whole town! Who cares if it DIDN"T WORK?

He walks into his ex-girlfriend's hotel room and scares the SHIT out of her while she's naked and alone in the shower? It was the wolfsbane. It doesn't matter that no one else's impulses included HARASSING someone. He lies to his girlfriend's face about her own life because he doesn't think it's important enough for her to know (who am I talking about, come on, take a guess, which one is it? Allison or Kira? Trick question: it's both). He was just being kind! He didn't want to worry her! He didn't want to make her feel bad! She didn't need to know!

I'm so far off track it's not even funny. My point was that Everything the other characters in the show are demonized for or framed as evil or bad or wrong for doing, Scott is shown to do and it's treated like at minimum a comedy, if not a Perfect Brilliant Strategic Move.

God, fucking hell. I mean, the PARALLELS you see in this show, between Scott and others. The scene of Alexander Argent going to the hotel after being bit? That bit where he pulls his shirt up in the mirror? It's a near PERFECT replica of Scott looking at his bite at Deaton's. They paralleled SCOTT MCCALL with AN ARGENT. Deaton has this whole line in S2 where he's bitching at Derek about "the person you should trust the most doesn't trust you at all" And then seasons later, we have Scott look his best friend in the eye and refuse to trust him, only to get upset later because Stiles doesn't want to work with him anymore and he "lost them." Scott goes running into Derek's house in S1 to accuse him of killing the bus driver, and when he can't get a real response, he EGGS HIM ON by accusing him of Murdering his SISTER, just to get Derek to react. Which is the EXACT same thing Kate did when she showed up and wanted Derek to lose his temper. Scott is CONSTANTLY paralleled with villains and assholes, and constantly does the things that others are persecuted for. But instead of feeling regret or learning something from it, instead of growing AT ALL. Those actions are treated as good. We are told they are righteous. And clever. That they are what heroes do. AND YES: There are parallels between Derek and Stiles' behaviors and villains/morally grey characters! Of course there are!

BUT THEY AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THE TRUE ALPHA MAIN CHARACTER. SCOTT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD GUY. HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO MIMIC/EMULATE THE VILLAINS, AND HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE REWARDED WHEN HE DOES IT ANYWAY.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I understand the urge to think that the Teen Wolf writers did all of this on purpose. That they built Scott up as an unreliable narrator, so that we're forced to come to terms with a protagonist who isn't good, and we watch them fall into a villainous role while thinking all the while they are a hero. That all these parallels are intentional and the writers just couldn't Tell us what was going on bc they didn't have enough power.

And sometimes I play into it. I will lie to myself about Scott being the 'narrator' of the entire show, and that we're seeing it all through his eyes so of course things are biased and conflicting, just so I can actually Enjoy watching it.

But I think it's absolute bullshit that this was done on purpose. It wasn't. The parallels appeared because they Wanted Scott to do the badass things that they had all the villains doing, throwing people and being sneaky and clever, and stopping the bad guy, and they didn't want to deal with the fact that they were having him do bad things. So they just pretended he wasn't and refused to acknowledge that they'd already punished other people for doing the same exact shit, but somehow Scott was getting rewarded. They wanted Scott to be the hero, so they made him the hero, and screw everybody else.

#personal #anti-Scott McCall #go for it #love mail #meta ramblings #rant #long post #WHERE IS THE READ MORE BUTTON HALP

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Good Omens - Taking the Cake (Rated G)

Summary: When Aziraphale decides to host Warlock and Adam's 12th birthday down at his shop, he tells Crowley they'll be doing it without magic. That's all well and good until Crowley is called upon to finish decorating the cake... (1551 words)

Read on AO3.

“Ho there! Mmph... angel? Ngk... ” Crowley grunts, stuffing himself through one door of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the other holding stubbornly to its frame. He barely makes it through, lugging copious bags bulging with party gear, his long fingers curled around handles strained thin by the weight.

"In here, dear," Aziraphale replies, giving no indication that he's coming to help. Crowley picks an aisle and starts walking, navigating the narrow expanse between late 18th century classics and Roman philosophy.

“I got everything on your list," Crowley says when he spots his husband. "Goodie bags, balloons, streamers, poppers… “ He pauses inventorying when he comes up behind Aziraphale, deeply engaged in the creation of a buttercream rosette.

By hand, no less.

Aziraphale insisted they throw together this entire party like natives, and that meant no magic whatsoever. Crowley couldn’t understand why. Miracling together a party is literally a snap. They'd done it hundreds of times over the years. It's how they hosted their wedding.

With a snap.

That did, however, create a mountain of paperwork, which led to Gabriel and his henchmen finding out about their shindig and showing up uninvited. Surprisingly, they didn't cause much in the way of trouble. They snickered a little, made a few snide remarks, but they mostly spent their time "observing" from a table in a far corner, mingling with no one as if above it all.

Crowley tensed when they arrived, but having a few party crashers didn't go too badly... until the karaoke began.

“Is that the cake then?”

“Yes. I’m almost done.“ Aziraphale pinches his tongue between his teeth, steadying his hand as he adds a peony this time.

"It's gorgeous," Crowley says in awe. "Truly stunning."

"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale says, glowing from his husband's praise.

"But... "

Aziraphale's shoulders instantly go rigid.

Crowley hates to do this to him. The cake really is a masterpiece of confectionary construction. But it needs to be said. "Warlock and Adam are turning twelve."

"And... ?"

"Don't you think they might appreciate something a bit more... I don't know.... befitting of a pair of former antichrists? Like a zombie with bleeding eyes? Or a raven with sharp, pointy teeth?"

Aziraphale glares over his shoulder at Crowley as if insanity has finally set in. "Ravens don't have teeth!"

"I know! That's why it would be terrifying! Right up their alleys!"

Aziraphale shakes his head, going back to his peonies. "This is a birthday cake! Not a Halloween cake! Besides, I only know how to make flowers. Anything else would require magic, and you know how I feel about that. Besides, I'm certain they only care about the insides anyway, and it's crammed full of chocolate. I don't think they'll mind a crocus or two."

"Fair enough," Crowley concedes.

The clock in the corner chimes, and Aziraphale sighs. He looks over at it, then double-checks the time on his pocket watch. Crowley checks the time on his watch, too, although he doesn't know what for.

"Three o'clock," Aziraphale observes. "Damn."

"Wot's wrong?"

"I’m afraid I’m running a bit behind.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Crowley asks, piling his sacks on a nearby chair.

“As a matter of fact, I have to pop out for a few," Aziraphale says, handing Crowley the piping bag, "but this cake needs one final touch.”

“And that is?” Crowley holds the bag between his fingers the way he would a dead rat, wary that he might be called upon to construct the same delicate flowers Aziraphale has. Without his magic, Crowley doesn't have anything near Aziraphale's talent with icing.

Warlock and Adam may just get a gruesome cake after all.

“I just need it to say 'Happy Birthday Warlock and Adam'.” Aziraphale bustles about, grabbing his coat off the tree and throwing it on. “The handwriting doesn't need to be immaculate, just legible. Could you do that for me?”

“Pfft. No problem," Crowley says, secretly perceiving a problem. "Piece of… “

Aziraphale stops on his way out the door to give his husband an exasperated look. Crowley snickers.

“Well, you know,” Crowley finishes, shooing Aziraphale out the door. "Ta-ta now. Mind how you go."

***

"Damned antique dealers and their damned negotiations! Ignorant bast---" Aziraphale stops short of cursing. It doesn't matter what happened, which was extremely upsetting. There is no need for bad language. He hurries down the crowded sidewalk, going over the details of the past hour-and-thirty in his head. "I was doing them a favor, and look how I'm repaid! I'm late to the party I'm hosting! There's a fine how-do-you-do! Ungrateful humans! See if I stop another Apocalypse for you, in your tacky grey suits and your cheap pointy shoes... "

Aziraphale stomps up to his door, keys in hand, but stops outside when he hears laughter on the other side. He peeks through the dusty glass, and his shoulders sag.

The party is for the kids. He knows. But he was so looking forward to celebrating with everyone from start to finish. That and he didn't think he'd take this long, so he neglected to relocate his first editions somewhere secure.

He fears for their safety.

Icing is notoriously difficult to get out of parchment and ligament, even through the use of miracles.

He should have never taken that stupid meeting to begin with. He had a feeling it wouldn't pan out.

Oh well.

No need wasting any more time on that than already has, he thinks, bucking up and unlocking the door. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start celebrating while I still have the chance...

Aziraphale takes a step in, ready to announce his arrival, but stops dead when he hears jazzy scatting in a sonorous voice.

A voice that doesn’t belong to anyone he knows.

Aziraphale walks in further, scanning those gathered, and makes a minor correction to his original assessment - doesn’t belong to any human that he knows. His eyes blow wide, his cheeks burn red, and his husband's name explodes off his tongue before he even opens his mouth.

"Anthony J. Crowley-Fell!"

Aziraphale doesn't say anything other than his name and Crowley starts apologizing. "I'm sorry, angel!" he says, running across the shop to greet him, but not looking the least bit sorry.

"I gave you one task!" Aziraphale bellows, snapping his fingers and slamming the door shut, his no-magic edict flying out the window. "Just one little thing! And you couldn't do it!"

"I'm no good at writing!" Crowley defends with the shadows of an infuriating grin on his face. "My hand gets all wobbly! I didn't want to risk ruining any of your lovely flowers!"

Aziraphale, splotchy-faced and buggy-eyed, glowers. "You couldn't write a simple Happy Birthday, so you enchanted the entire cake!? That was your brilliant plan!?"

"I'm a demon! Of course, that was my plan!"

"Crowley!"

"They showed up right after you left! I had no time! I panicked!"

Aziraphale drops his head into his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. Crowley reaches out to put a comforting hand on his husband's shoulder until he hears him counting backward from one hundred... in Akkadian. Then he creeps his hand to his side and quietly steps off.

Aziraphale breathes in deep through his nose and out through his mouth, struggling to ground himself. He has no one to blame but himself. That's the painful part. In the back of his mind, he knew something like this might happen.

He's impressed it isn't worse.

He should have never left his husband alone.

Next time, he'll hire a sitter.

Aziraphale continues counting, continues breathing, and as he does, he pays more attention to the goings-on around him.

The cake singing is quite unsettling, but the children are gleeful, the adults joyful. Joking, teasing, and enthusiastic conversation fill the spaces in between.

Much like their wedding reception, except there isn't an archangel in sight.

And Crowley's magic was instrumental in making that day memorable.

Maybe Aziraphale overreacted with that 'no magic' rule. Crowley's face fell when Aziraphale told him they'd be hosting the boys' birthday at his bookshop sans magic, but he'd recovered quickly. The streamers and balloons Crowley managed to toss on the walls look plenty festive, but they don't compare to what could have been had Aziraphale allowed Crowley to tap into his imagination.

Their guests are having a grand time despite the modest decor, but it could have been so much more. They are an angel and a demon! Between the pair of them, they could have whipped up a true spectacle, if for no other reason than they still owe poor Warlock after last year's fiasco.

What would have been the harm of calling upon a little divine intervention?

An alarming thought pops into Aziraphale's brain, and his head snaps up. “They’re going to cut into that, you know. Is that when the enchantment ends?”

“Nope.” Crowley rubs his palms together. “That’s when the fun begins.”

"Uh... "Aziraphale's jaw drops. "Good Lord," he moans, Crowley cackling when Adam runs to fetch the cake cutter. Aziraphale's mind whirls with thoughts of what fun could imply, but there's no time to ask. While Crowley starts laying a drop cloth, Aziraphale puts his coat away and relocates his favorite books into his back room for safekeeping.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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vivian24l · 3 years

Text

DamiraeWeek2021

Day One: Family/In-laws

The Second Wayne Reunion

Damian tapped his fingers against the wheel.

“Anxious?” asked Raven.

“You know how last year turned out. I was surprised Father agreed to another reunion this year.”

One year ago, Dick had come up with the idea of having a family reunion. He had invited the whole Wayne family together under one roof once again. The results of the party didn’t end so well. Dick clearly wanted to make the reunions annual, because he once again invited everyone.

Damian took another left. They had to drive across Gotham to reach Wayne Manor. After getting married, he and Raven bought a stretch of land on the other side of Gotham. Together they designed their house and hired people to build it.

Damian let out a sigh. “That bastard, Grayson.”

“Language,” said Raven.

He glanced at the rear view mirror. Their daughter, Rashida, was asleep in the back. Although, she could be pretending. Rashida is an intelligent child, more mature than her actual age. However, she does tend to do dangerous things.

They pulled up at Wayne Manor at long last. Rashida woke up instantly.

“We're here!” she announced. The five year old got out of their car immediately to stretch her legs.

“Rae! Watch this!” shouted Mar’i. She flew up into the sky while Rae watched from the ground. Mar’i shot a green starbolt at a low cloud. The cloud lit up in green light before evaporating into thin air.

“Impressive,” commented Rae. She joined her cousin in the air. The two girls turned the clouds green and purple.

Sitting in deck chairs, Raven and Koriand’r watched the kids flying around.

“Did you teach her that?” questioned Raven.

Kori let out a laugh. “Of course not, Mar’i and Jacob discovered it. Speaking of Jacob, where is he?”

It was Raven’s turn to laugh. “I saw him with Jackson, they were building something out of Legos. How do you not know what your son is doing?”

“I’ve been very busy lately,” Kori defended herself.

“Hey sisters! Mind if I join you?” Stephanie didn’t wait for an answer, she took a seat in a chair across from Kori. “Cass and Babs will be here with the food in a few minutes.”

“Is Valkyrie joining us this year?” asked Kori.

“She sure is! Val better not drop out last minute,” said the blonde. “I can’t believe Dick allowed her to skip last year. I mean, like seriously? This is a family reunion and therefore Val can not be missing out.”

“She was on a mission,” said Raven. “Then again, you can’t blame her, this family can be quite a handful.”

“Makes me wonder how we are able to put up with them,” joked Stephanie.

“How’s the cooking going?” asked Raven.

Damian turned around to face his wife. “Fairly well,” he answered.

Raven nodded. She took in the scene. Pots and pans were on the stove. A large bowl of lettuce sat on the counter. Nearby stood a container of tofu, waiting to be opened.

“Where’s Richard? I thought he’d be cooking as well,” said Raven.

Damian let out a “tt”. He stirred the soup inside a large pot. “Grayson left an hour ago, he said something about napkins.”

“You do know that not everyone here is vegetarian, correct?” questioned Raven as she noticed that there wasn’t a single speck of meat in any of the dishes.

“I also know that they will have to pay for making me cook a meal for twenty people.”

“21, actually,” corrected Raven. “Valkyrie’s running late.”

“And there I thought she would skip like last year.”

Raven grabbed a spare apron. “I suppose it’s up to me to save everyone from eating tofu turkey tonight.”

“How heroic.”

“Mother? Father?” called Rashida.

“We’re in the kitchen, ibna,” answered Damian.

“What are you making?” Rashida stood on the tip of her toes and watched as Raven mixed together the stuffing for the turkey.

“Dinner. Would you like to help, love?” asked Raven.

“Actually I can not,” said Rashida.

“And why is that?”

“Mar’i and I are in need of some pots. We’re going to make popcorn the old fashioned way! But instead of making a fire, we’ll be heating it with our powers,” explained Rashida..

“Is anyone supervising you?” asked Damian.

“Of course, Uncle Jason’s helping us.” Rashida pulled a large pot out of the cabinet. “This will do perfectly,” she said. “Good luck on your cooking!”

“Should I be concerned that Jason is overseeing their popcorn-making?” asked Damian.

“You should have some faith in him,” said Raven.

“I think we’re done here,” said Raven.

Damian nodded. “This should be enough food for the whole family, including leftovers for everyone to take home.”

They have made a total of twelve different dishes, two-thirds of which are plant-based. Raven have also made five different types of pastries for dessert.

They left the kitchen to join the rest of the family in the living room. Selina was reading a book to her grandchildren. Rashida, however, was not with her cousins, she was throwing knives with her uncle. They took turns throwing from different positions, each time getting bullseye on the target board.

“Why couldn’t our daughter have some non-violent interests,” sighed Raven.

Damian smiled. “She’s the granddaughter of the first Batman and Trigon, and great granddaughter of Ra’s Al Ghul. And I should add that her adoptive grandfather also happens to be Superman. So I would say that throwing a few knives is perfectly fine.”

“I just want her to have a childhood full of peace and innocence, unlike ours,” Raven murmured.

“She is habibti, she is.” Damian held his wife close. They seated themselves on the couch and silently watched the scene before them.

The peace in the room could not be contained for long. Dick burst through the door holding a large bag.

“Guess what I got?” he sang.

Rashida didn’t even spare her uncle a glance. “A bag full of games,” she answered.

“Uh, yeah. Great guess, Rae,” stuttered Dick. It still intrigued him how she knew what was inside. Well she is her parents’ daughter.

Dick laid out the contents on the table. There was a wide variety of games from classic card games to Twister.

The doorbell rang as soon as he took out the last game.

“That must be Val!” Kori rose to answer the door.

A minute later, the said woman arrived in the room. She could’ve been a younger version of Cassandra, except her features are more sharp. The youngest of the Wayne siblings, Valkyrie was adopted at the age of thirteen. That was ten years ago.

She came just like her oldest adoptive brother, holding a large bag. All the kids, including Rashida, ran over to see what was inside.

“Alright, settle down first,” Valkyrie said. She pulled out four colorfully wrapped boxes and handed one to each of the kids.

Mar’i opened her box and gasped in surprise. “Thank you so much Aunt Val! They’re beautiful.” The twelve year old has received silver bracelets, similar to her mother’s, but with detailed markings on them.

When Jackson opened his box, his jaw dropped. Inside was a Build-Your-Own 3-Dimensional Holographic Projector. “Thank you Aunt Val!” said the eight year old.

Jacob’s gift was eight limited edition action figurines. “How did you-? How is this-?” The boy was so shocked to see eight expensive figurines, that were probably worth a hundred dollars each, in front of him.

“I have my ways, little one,” answered Valkyrie.

“Thank you so much,” he said, giving Valkyrie a big hug.

“Your welcome, and please I’d like some personal space.”

Rashida slowly opened her box. Inside was a white cloak. The fabric was quite unusual. It was soft, stretchy, thin, and light. Yet the fabric also felt strong, and sturdy. The bright ruby glowed in the golden clasp. Unlike Raven’s cloak, this one had sleeves. The hems and cuffs of the cloak were embroidered with intricate designs. Rashida slipped on the cloak, it fitted perfectly. “Thank you, Aunt Valkyrie,” said the five year old.

“There are no gifts for your siblings? Wow, how kind of you,” spoke up Jason.

Valkyrie smiled. “Of course not, only ones for the kids,” she pulled out two more boxes, “and the parents.”

Selina and Bruce gave her their thanks then proceeded to open their gift. Silent received a full set of cat themed jewelry, while Bruce received a grey tie.

“I actually needed a new tie,” he said.

#damirae week 2021 #damirae #damian wayne #ravenroth #damian x raven #demonbirds #rashidawayne #batfam

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Sad nessian part 3

Nyx pov

This is not a super popular fanfic of mine but I had this written (truly it is not edited) but I hate leaving anyone hanging so this is for you! @haepaw

Nyx loved pissing off his father. Even at the young age of 137 (young in fae years) Nyx found any excuse to disobey his father, including participating in underground fighting rings. He wouldn't lie, he also liked the boost to his ego his undefeated title gave him, but mostly he did it because his father told him not too.

"Remind me why I come to this again? Mom would kick all of our asses if she knew about this." Velaris grumbled from her seat next to them. Nyx's two younger sisters came to these fights with him. They always said it was because they didn't want him hurting himself, but he thought part of them wanted to disobey their father as well.

"Mom won't find out." Violet rolled her purple eyes- the only one to receive that trait from their father. "And because we can't let him get killed. It would be terrible for the night court's image."

They all sat side by side on a bench, waiting for the next fight to begin. Nyx was fighting someone new tonight and he was excited about it. He was tired of easily defeating the same fighters every week. He began to wrap his hands while his oldest sister, Velaris, continued to ramble.

"I'm a terrible liar." She groaned. "One look from Azriel and I'll jabber like a canary. I cannot believe I have managed to keep it a secret this long. I have to avoid everyone for at least a day after. Ugh why must you be on a mission to piss off dad at least every five seconds. Could you not try getting along for moth-" Thankfully Velaris was cut off by the announcer. Nyx jumped to his feet, hopping from one foot to the other as his fight was about to start. He began walking to the ring when Violet called out.

"Good luck."

"I don't need it." He sent her a cocky smile before stepping on the mat. He cracked his neck then looked at his opponent. It was a female- Illyrian by the looks of her wings. He was surprised to find they were not clipped. As much as his father tried to put a stop to the outdated practice, most females found themselves being clipped at some point anyways. She was beautiful, almost looked familiar to him. He felt as though he knew her, but at the same time knew he didn't. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a way that showed off her sharp cheekbones while her large eyes were hazel- a typical Illyrian trait. He was trying not to seem thrown off by the pretty female, however, that was much easier said than done. He had only fought one other female and she closely resembled a troll, so her looks had not played much of a factor. The female sent him a wicked smile before tapping both wrists. Illyrian armor began to cover every inch of her as seven, red siphons appeared. Nyx finally let his astonishment show. Not a single Illyrian female was awarded siphons. So how did she get seven of them?

"Where did you get those?" He narrowed his eyes at her. She didn't appear as thief's normally do. She also didn't appear to be a female to participate in an underground fighting ring, so perhaps his radar was off.

"I didn't steal them if that is what you are insinuating." That same coy smile graced her lips. Her voice was low for a females, but once again it sounded almost familiar to Nyx.

"Fight." The announcer sounded off, and the female was instantly a whirlwind of movement. Before Nyx could even reacted, she slammed her fist into his face.

"Fuck." After that stunningly powerful punch, Nyx focused himself into fight mode. He found it hard to keep up with the raven-haired female though. She was using a blend of fighting skills that Nyx was unfamiliar with, and he felt as though he was playing the game of catch-up the entire fight. He was always one step behind her.

"Come on, Nyx! That was pathetic." The oldest brother rolled his eyes at the shout that could only have come from Violet. It was not until the female back-handed Nyx that he realized she was toying with him. His face burned with embarrassment.

"Fucking fight. No need to go easy on me." He grunted as he spit blood from his mouth. The female- he realized he did not listen when the announcer said her name- laughed. She was bruised up pretty badly herself, but Nyx knew it was nothing compared to how he looked. Her siphons flared brightly.

"Aww. Poor High lord's son. Has anyone ever fought you with all their strength?" She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout to continue to tease the male. It struck a chord with him though. He was tired of being babied. He was the oldest son of the two most powerful fae in Pyrinthian and heir to the night court-dammit. He suddenly realized why he liked this fight so much though, she had gone harder on him than anyone else ever had- except for his dead cousin. It fueled him to fight harder. He threw out a fist that connected with her temple. She was definitely seeing stars from the way she stumbled. He guessed she was not expecting that. It had Nyx snickering. She returned with a few well placed jabs that the male knew would be sore in the morning.

"You look Familiar. Do I know you?" Nyx found himself saying as they circled one another. They were both breathing heavy at this point.

"No. Might know my sister though." She threw a kick that connected with Nyx's head. His body splayed out on the ground as he groaned. She did not let up. She sent punch after punch to his face while locking his arms down with her legs. He knew the knockout punch was coming, and so did she because her mouth was by his ear as she whispered.

"Tell Rhysand that Amara sends her regards." His eyes did not even have time to widen before she knocked him out. His last thought revolved around Amara.

Amara was dead and had been for 37 years.

When Nyx finally came too, his sisters pounced on him instantly.

"Oh thank the cauldron! I had no idea what we were going to tell mom and dad if you did not wake up within the next thirty minutes." Velaris practically screeched. He realized then that he was in his room, laying in his bed. Both Velaris and Violet were sitting on the end of it staring him down.

"What happened?" He groaned. Last thing he remembered was the mystery female telling him something about his dead cousin. Violet snorted.

"You lost dumbass. Velaris and I had to fly you to the house of wind by ourselves after you refused to wake up. She knocked you out cold." That would explain why his head was pounding. Fuck, she destroyed him.

"Yeah and you are heavy as shit." Velaris felt the need to chip in. He rolled his eyes before sitting up.

"Did either of you manage to catch her name?" It was impossible for her to be Amara. He remembered what Amara looked like and it was not that. Though, now that he thought about it, he realized why she looked so familiar. She looked similar to Amara. Perhaps a sister? Not impossible, but severely unlikely. His aunt Nesta struggled to conceive any children the entire time he knew her.

"I think it was Elle something? They did not announce it like normal, but I overheard someone call her that." Velaris answered while beginning to look over his injuries, her blue-grey eyes a mask of concern. Nothing seemed to hurt quite as bad as his head.

"I think I could sleep for three hundred years." He muttered.

"Good thing we have dinner at the house in thirty minutes." Violet chirped up. She was looking way too perky for someone who just watched their brother get the shit beat out of him.

"There's no way I'm going to that." He fell back in his bed and pulled the covers over his face once Velaris was done with his exam.

"Too bad." Violet replied in a sing-song voice. "Mom said she had something important to share with us and I am putting money down that she is pregnant again." Velaris groaned.

"She better not be. I am much too young to be taking care of their child while they galavant off to gods knows where." The oldest of the high lord's daughters had always taken on a motherly role. Even though, Nyx was five years her senior, she found herself babysitting both Nyx and Violet more often than not growing up.

"You better get your ass up, so Velaris can cover those bruises with makeup- wouldn't want to keep mother waiting." The younger sister strolled out of the bedroom, her purple dress sashaying behind her.

Nyx did not know how to broach the conversation about Amara. There was no sly or subtle way to insert it into the conversation. He did not want to discuss it at all, however, he felt this was too important to keep from his parents. They all sat around the dinner table while discussing very unimportant matters. Mor and Velaris were squabbling excitedly about something, Gwyn and Azriel were discussing daggers with Violet, and Feyre and Rhysand were murmuring quietly amongst each other. Only Nyx remained silent. That was enough to catch his mother's attention apparently.

"What troubles you, Nyx?" Feyre's eyes brimmed with concern for her oldest son. He was hardly ever quiet, usually deciding to pick a fight with his father.

"There is no way Amara could be alive right?" He spit out. The silence the befell the room was deafening. His mother's concerned look turned to a sharp one- almost a glare while his father ground his teeth together. Both his sisters gave him a look. A look to say shut up before it is too late. Mor finally spoke up after almost five minutes of silence.

"Amara is dead. I saw Koschei kill her myself. We all did." He looked toward the beautiful female. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes.

"Why do you ask, son?" His mother responded in a defeated tone. He did not mean to cause all of this, but apparently time had not lessened the pain of her death.

"I met a female." He started. Both his sisters' eyes widened as though they thought he was going to out all of them. They clearly did not need to add underground fighting rings to the list of things that will piss off mom and dad tonight. He also did not miss the look that Gwyn and Azriel shared. "She said to tell you," he gave his father a pointed look. "That Amara sends her regards." His father's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his son. Rhysand wanted to make sure this was not another ploy to piss him off.

"What was her name?" Feyre interrupted her mate before he could say anything. Nyx began to shift in his seat uncomfortably. Clearly he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Elle something? I did not catch all of it. She looked like Amara. I mean she looks different than her, but similar enough that maybe they are sisters?" Nyx suggested. He watched as his mother and father shared a meaningful look.

"Who is Amara?" Violet had the courage to ask. She was much braver than Nyx. If their positions were switched, he would have kept his mouth shut. He always forgot that Violet was born the year after Amara died. While Velaris was only five years younger than him, Violet was one hundred and one years his junior. She was practically an infant in fae years at only thirty six years old. Technically, fae reached full maturity at twenty-five years, but when you live an immortal life, thirty-six seems young.

"Your cousin." Feyre whispered. Nyx's attention was caught by Azriel's shadows that were clearly hard at work. They were moving around much more than they had been earlier, indicating they were on a mission for information.

"I did not know Aunt Elain had another child." Violet offered to ease the tension. It only seemed to make it worse though.

"She does not." Their mother began. She finally set her silverware down and pushed her plate away. As if she knew that she would be unable to eat anything else for the rest of the night. Her voice was filled with such sorrow and regret that Nyx wished he never brought it up. If only to avoid hearing his mother sound that way. "I have another sister, Nesta. She is mated to Cassian, who I am sure you have seen pictures of around the house. She struggled to have children and when Amara died, it destroyed her. She blamed all of us and denounced us as family. We have not heard from her since."

"Do not leave out why she blames you." Gwyn snapped. It was the first she had said since Amara had been brought up. She was clenching her knife tightly. A stray shadow wrapped around her wrist causing the mates to have some sort of silent conversation.

"She blames all of us because of me." Rhysand finally admitted. Not even Nyx knew the whole story and Amara was his best friend at the time. Nyx sat at the edge of his seat, anxious to finally hear what happened to his cousin.

"I sent Amara on a mission she was not prepared for. She was captured by Koschei and killed in front of Nesta and Cassian, killed in front of all of us." His father's voice was tense- for obvious reasons, but he could see the hurt behind his eyes. Nyx could see the pain his father felt about the role he played in Amara's demise. "Your mother and I thought Amara was immortal- more so than the rest of us anyways. Nesta had great power that was passed to Amara and it manifested in such a powerful way that we assumed she was more immune to death. We were wrong. Nesta was a dangerous female with unknown power. She had threatened to take your life, Nyx, in retribution for the role I played. Cassian, himself, threatened to kill me. However, when the opportunity presented itself, the mates left and have yet to return. I suppose Nesta being pregnant at the time would explain why neither of them have sought revenge after all this time." Rhysand let out a long, contemplative sigh at the end of his explanation. Nyx was more than a little shocked to discover his favorite Aunt had threatened to kill him. He was devastated by her disappearance especially since no one would explain why they left. He found it hard to believe that his uncle Cassian would allow his mate to do something so drastic, but perhaps grief makes monsters of us all.

"Befriend the female, Nyx." His father suddenly demanded. His tone changing from one of grief and regret to his commanding High Lord voice. Nyx found it grating. "Many fae learned of Amara's demise. Someone could be trying to trick us. Best to keep the enemy close, yes?" Rhysand lifted an eyebrow at his son. The entire table knew that Nyx could not disobey the High Lord command. They also knew he would try his damnedest to piss off his father.

"And what if she is Nesta and Cassian's daughter? What then?" Nyx held his breathe as his father contemplated.

"Then we kidnap her and hope the couple will hear us out before killing the entire city of Velaris."

#nesta acheron #cassian #nessian #nyx acotar #acotar #acosf

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wonda-cat · 3 years

Note

You mentioned rewriting that one analysis post on Tommy’s revival stream and I’d really look forward to it! I never got to read the full og post and that’s the only place I saw these takes. Especially the one about the afterlife being too depressing. It’s not even just about Tommy, the implication that even if every character is safe and happy by the end, this is their inevitable fate is messed up. It’s not “a neat subversion” it’s just depressing and doesn’t add anything.

Hey, anon!

I sorta decided to not rewrite it? I feel a bit differently about the essay in the end, although I still believe in most of my points. I’m also just not nearly as passionate about it as I was when I wrote it (I finished it in a single sitting, which was... interesting.) However, yes, the afterlife stuff still bothers me just the same, as well as the odd changes to Wilbur’s characterization... post mortem.

But—just for you, anon—here’s the entire meta-analysis essay anyway, with some minor edits to the stuff I don’t agree with anymore!

My Many Narrative Issues with Tommyinnit’s Revival Stream

I want to preface this by saying that I dearly love the Dream SMP and understand it isn’t exactly comparable to other mediums like TV and film. With this being the case, most criticism against it is generally in bad faith or strange in foundation. Complaining about streamers for bad acting is the best example that comes to mind.

These aren’t professional actors. Most have never acted in this sort of setting, or even at all. Quite a few have admitted to never roleplaying before. Which is why it’s warranted to praise Tommy, Dream, Wilbur, Ranboo, and others when they deliver stellar performances. The same applies to criticism of music choice, dialogue delivery, focus, tone, etc.

However, one such category I cannot overlook is in regards to its writing. The writing of a story is its entire foundation. It encompasses many things—conflict choice, character development, themes, and morals. The author creates the blueprints for the architect, who then expresses the story with light, sound, color, pacing, and music. It is in its execution that we see if this connection is made or broken.

The reason I find poor writing mostly inexcusable is because it is one of the most available skills to practice and perfect. I don’t mean to say that it’s easy, I mean to say it is something anyone can attempt to cultivate. Whether they do it well or not depends on their methods and experience. If anyone can self-publish a novel and be criticized online for its quality—and even compared to the works of Mark Twain—then I find critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP to be perfectly reasonable.

However, since the Dream SMP script is a set of loose bullet points, tearing apart dialogue and scene continuity—which is nearly all improv—is rather useless. It doesn’t exactly have a clear focus as the plot plays out. The characters talk in circles until they hit the story beat required, and then they move onto the next. Thus, when criticizing it, one should generally critique grand events and narrative-specific shifts, more so than small-scale character interactions.

Which brings me to my main point: The broad narrative choices taken in Tommyinnit’s most recent livestream, ‘Am I dead?’ may lead to disastrous writing pitfalls in the future.

I’ll be outlining each of my issues below, in hopes of creating a better understanding as to why I feel this way.

This might become quite lengthy, so please bear with me for a bit.

Tommy’s relationship to Wilbur has flipped. This change is jarring and seems out of character.

Tommy and Wilbur’s friendship is rather complicated. While Wilbur does care for Tommy immensely, especially during the L’Manburg Revolution and the Election Arc, his mental spiral during exile put a massive strain on their relationship as a whole. Wilbur brushed off Tommy’s feelings and wants, while clinging to him and pushing everyone else away. He was simultaneously distant and suffocating.

Tommy, on the other hand, has an unclear view of his mentor. Since the beginning, and even long after Wilbur’s death, Tommy held him in especially high regard. He saw him as a brother-figure and a wise leader. He followed what he said and did everything he could to impress him. Yet, Wilbur still hurt him while the two were together in exile.

When speaking of him, Tommy tends to flip infrequently between remembering Wilbur the way he was before his mental decline and thinking of him as a monster. Both of these images conflict with each other, but they weren’t nearly as extreme as what Tommy described Wilbur as when he was revived from death. The fear Tommy displays to Wilbur is beyond intense—it feels as if the audience may have missed a month’s worth of character development.

This can make sense, especially since it was stated that he’d spent what felt like two months in the void. However, this shift is still deeply at odds with Tommy’s previous impressions of Wilbur, which is both disheartening and confusing. The fact that Tommy would agree to stay with Dream—his abuser and murderer—over his past mentor is simply head-reeling. It paints a very different picture of Wilbur’s character, somewhat conforming to the fandom’s ableist impression of him—the idea that Wilbur is insane and irredeemable, and always will be.

It also ignores Dream being the driving factor in Wilbur’s downfall, as well as the double-bind deal with Dream which required him to push the button, no matter the outcome. Others have pointed out that Tommy may be lying to get Dream to bring Wilbur back, and there’s compelling evidence for that. For one, Tommy and Wilbur’s conversation seemed uncomfortable, but it was certainly nothing like Tommy implied. (Unless this fear comes from something Wilbur said off-screen.)

Tommy also begged Dream to not bring him back multiple times over, which he should know would make Dream even more tempted to, simply because he likes seeing Tommy in pain. Tommy is also a known unreliable narrator. He may be making Wilbur out to be worse than he is by accident (even still, I’d argue this is a bit of a stretch.)

However, there are some issues with this theory. Tommy offered himself as payment to Dream if he chose to let Wilbur rest. This is a deal Tommy knows Dream is extremely unlikely to refuse. Tommy is what Dream has coveted all this time. If Tommy genuinely wanted Wilbur back, he would not offer this. This sort of compromise is Tommy’s greatest nightmare—something he would only do in response to his friends being threatened or his home being destroyed.

To add, Tommy is not great at lying. Unless he was taught by Wilbur for those two months* in the afterlife, there’s no chance Tommy would be this good at it. Thirdly, Tommy is terrible under pressure. He uses humor to cope. When he can’t, he cries and shouts and spills his heart out. While cornered, Tommy will tell the truth about anything, especially if Dream casually debates killing him again, just for fun.

For now, it’s too early to tell how the relationship shift will play out. In the grand scheme of things, this issue is rather minor.

Season three’s writing is needlessly bleak. The portrayal of the afterlife is a nightmare. There is no rest, not even in death.

I adore the Dream SMP storyline in its entirety. I believe the first season is fantastic, and while the second season has some narrative clarity issues, I enjoyed it just as much. Although, I would argue season one had a more concrete understanding of its Hope-Conflict balance.

To briefly explain, the Hope in stories are its ‘highs’ and good moments. These appear when a character the audience is rooting for is narratively rewarded. They happen during character building in the text—it’s the downtime and peace that allows for connection and relatability. It’s a moment for the viewer to breathe easy.

The other half is Conflict, an obstacle in the story that gets in the way of the main characters’ goals, beliefs, and motives. These are the ‘lows.’ They give the narrative focus and weight. They make the highs feel even higher. They establish consequences and force the characters in the story to change in order to adapt and overcome them.

I bring up the Hope-Conflict balance because a traditional hero’s journey would have an appropriate amount of both. Their highs and lows are generally equalized, as the name suggests. However, this balance has been awkwardly skewed in the latter half of season two and in the current plot of season three. To clarify, it is perfectly reasonable, and even common, for some stories to tip the scale more to one side.

But a common mistake for amateur writers is to create their stories as either hopelessly dark to cause the audience continuous distress for the sake of distress, or to keep everything entirely conflict-free for most of the plot. What do these both have in common? They each make the story boring and predictable.

Season three has taken this concept and thrown a monstrously heavy weight onto the Conflict side and flipped the scale so hard it has crashed through the ceiling. The viewers are hardly given time to find any joy in Tommy’s character, as he’s thrown into yet another abusive situation, just barely after his first narrative reward. The world is painted as relentlessly violent and traumatic.

Every person Tommy meets is morally grey, unhinged, or out to hurt him. Everything most of the characters love is taken from them by those in positions of power. Ranboo cannot even grieve properly because it scars his face. Puffy, Sam, Ranboo, and Tubbo all blame themselves for what happened to Tommy.

The audience watches lore stream after lore stream with the same depressing tone (with the exception of Tubbo’s, but I assume that’s unintentional.) Tommy is revived after being brutally beaten to death by his abuser, surrounded by all of his greatest fears. The afterlife is revealed to be akin to inescapable torture. It’s a colorless void that wraps the individual like fabric.

Time moves thirty times slower within. There’s nothing—nothing but the voices of others who’ve passed on before him. Dying in a world already devoid of happiness takes the characters to a place worse than hell. When a narrative delivers unfair suffering to the entire cast without a moment of joy to speak of, the story will feel simultaneously overwhelming and pointless.

Why watch characters suffer when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel? What happiness could they strive for when we know they’ll never get to keep it? How can I be satisfied with a good ending, if I know that an afterlife too terrible to name is what awaits them, truly, at the end of their story? Death isn’t even a white void that offers rest—it is eternal torment.

Obviously, it isn’t a good message to send by making the afterlife seem like a quiet, perfect place or an escape from pain. But making it an unspeakable anguish which awaits, assumedly, every character who will die in the future? I deeply hope Tommy was only being an extremely unreliable narrator.

More likely, I hope the place Tommy was taken to was a Limbo of sorts, not an end-all-be-all destination for everyone.

The degree of Tommy’s narrative punishment continues to escalate, to an almost absurd degree.

Tommy is one of the most tragic characters to exist in the storyline. He was sent into war at a young age and experienced two traumatic events during it. He was exiled by the newly elected leader and witnessed his mentor Wilbur spiral and break down with paranoia. Tubbo is executed publicly in front of him. When expressing rightful anger at the person who murdered him, he’s beaten nearly to death and never receives an apology.

Schlatt dies right in front of Tommy, after his initial refusal to hurt the ex-president. His brother-figure and mentor is killed in assisted suicide on the same day his nation is blown up. His best friend exiles him from his home for the second time. He routinely self-sacrifices to protect his country and those who live there. His most treasured possessions were taken from him and he was called selfish for trying to retrieve them (although his methods were self-destructive and volatile.)

He was pushed to the brink of suicide after being relentlessly abused and isolated in his exile. He was horrified when he thought he was responsible for drowning Fundy. After making an objectively good decision to stand by his old friends and change for the better, his country was obliterated by the man he once idolized, his father-figure, and his abuser.

He was left scattered and without purpose for many days. Then he fights against Dream and loses, while also reliving his trauma. He watches Tubbo almost die at the hands of someone he once thought was his friend. He doesn’t tell a single person about what happened to him in exile. The day he tries to sever his connection to Dream and heal, he’s trapped with him for a week, surrounded by everything that terrifies him.

He threatens to kill himself, speaking about his own life as if it were an object—something to hold over Dream’s head. He blames himself for everything bad that’s ever happened to L’Manburg and his friends—internalizing a mentality as a scapegoat for everyone around him. He is forced into the role of ‘hero’ despite the title being unfair and distressing to him.

As if that weren’t enough, he’s then beaten to death by his abuser and spends what feels like two months in an afterlife that is worse than hell. When he returns, his senses are excessively heightened. Dream can cause him excruciating pain, just by pinching him. He can send Tommy into an instant panic attack, just by raising his voice.

The punishment Tommy’s character receives is a thousand times worse than everyone he has ever met, or ever will meet. And it shows no signs of stopping, as Dream now has control over Tommy’s very mortality. Tommy now fears the slightest damage and feels as if he’s losing his best friend all over again. He is also forced into a position where he has to kill Dream out of necessity, to protect everyone he cares about.

Characters need fitting punishments in relation to their actions. Not always, but in order to be satisfying? Yes, they do. It is preferred that a main character deal with unfair situations and difficult conflicts, but this is borderline torture p*rn. Putting Tommy in these distressing and abusive situations on repeat and punishing him for doing objectively moral or healthy things is exhausting to watch.

To quickly add, I find the general insinuation of Tommy going to hell distasteful, especially considering the contents of his storyline. I know this may be hard to believe, but Tommy is one of the most moral characters in the plot, besides Puffy and Ghostbur. He’s also the only character, followed by Ranboo, to recognize that they can be wrong and make mistakes. He changed himself in order to heal and be a better person. He was in the process of paying people back for the things he’d stolen.

He’s learned to be hard-working and less violent through the guidance of Sam. He has apologized to everyone he’s ever hurt (with the exception of Jack Manifold, because that man is allergic to communication.) He puts himself in harm's way to protect others. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt anyone. He goes out of his way to make connections with people and maintain them, even if others don’t reciprocate.

He’s hopelessly optimistic, despite his outwardly bitter façade. He loved so much and put meaning into the smallest things. The thought that a person like him—a suicide and abuse survivor—would go to hell after being beaten to death by the man who took everything from him; it makes me sick to my stomach.

The only thing more morbid than Tommy’s afterlife being different than everyone else’s, is the concept that everyone will end up in this same eternal torture, no matter what they do. Take your pick: Tommy is sentenced to anguish until the end of time for no reason, or everyone will receive the same disturbing ending, regardless of their actions.

The narrative weight of Ranboo’s character is potentially out the window.

For the past few months, I’ve watched all of Ranboo’s lore streams faithfully, curious to see what role he would play in the future. His ‘hallucinations’ of Dream seemed to be sowing the seeds for a plot that has Ranboo taking the fall for every single insidious thing Dream has done. It would also be a tragic parallel to Tommy’s trial.

Ranboo being convinced he was the one who blew up the community house, when Dream himself admitted to doing it, was one of the bigger indicators for me. This is just one of many other unexplained occurrences. Dream seemed to be making an effort to trigger and control Ranboo, especially after Sapnap’s prison visit. It appeared, from the way he went about this, that Dream had some grand use for Ranboo as part of his plan to be freed from Pandora’s Vault.

However, after Tommy’s stream, the way Dream explains himself makes it seem like there was no plan besides seeing if the book worked on people. And if he didn’t after all, then what was Ranboo for? Was Ranboo unimportant? Was Ranboo just some weirdo who happened to phase out when seeing smiley faces and imagined conversations that may or may not have happened?

I bring this up more as a worry, and much less so as an active problem in the narrative. They haven’t actually thrown Ranboo to the way-side or written themselves into a corner yet. In future streams, this could very easily be explained away or developed as more information is revealed.

Only time will tell.

The potential for Wilbur’s future development and importance to the plot is unfeasible.

I feel as if I am the only person on earth who doesn’t want Wilbur Soot or Schlatt revived. There are many reasons for this, but one of them is not a dislike for these characters. I especially adore Wilbur, as he’s one of my all-time favorites. I don’t want either of them resurrected because their stories have already been told. They each had a fitting conclusion that ended their involvement perfectly.

Bringing Wilbur back would especially cheapen the impact of the War of the 16th. It’s the end of a man who was brought to the absolute edge and out of desperation, shame, and self-hatred, he destroyed himself alongside his creation. Bringing him back would leave the climax of the previous story hollow. My biggest issue, however, is that a lack of story importance would likely follow his return.

The only real impact I’d like to see is through a healing arc with Tommy, an apology to Fundy, or a confrontation with Phil/Niki. But that’s really all the potential I can realistically see. While I don’t doubt Wilbur as an agent of chaos, able to create plot out of thin air; what is he going to do now? His country is gone, his friends and family are scattered about, and his mission from the 16th is already accomplished.

What is a well-educated, charismatic politician supposed to do in a world already broken and without nations? Read poetry to himself and cry evilly? However, this is working off the assumption that Wilbur would be returning as his old self.

If Wilbur is resurrected as a ‘villain’ of sorts, then what? He’s not good at fighting in the slightest. He would have no materials. There are no real allies he can make, other than the arctic group. On top of that, there are already more than enough villains to last a lifetime.

We don’t need any more, I promise. Quackity seems to already be shaping up as another antagonist, alongside Sam’s slip into darker and darker shades of moral ambiguity. We also have Philza and Techno, which are already overkill. But then we have Dream who, despite being in a prison, has the ability of selective revival. This is mercilessly overpowered, especially if he makes many allies. The dude could just bring his dead friends back so they can keep fighting forever.

Then there’s Jack Manifold and the Crimson followers; Antfrost, Bad, and Punz. That’s not even including characters who are refusing to get involved. How are Tommy, Tubbo, and Puffy expected to do literally anything to fight back?

Dream’s experiment on Tommy implies he had no backup plan to begin with. This makes his character seem both short-sighted and foolish.

When Tommy woke up after being brought back to life, Dream sounded surprised that the revival worked at all. This instantly shatters the perception that Dream was highly intelligent and thought ahead. With just a few lines of dialogue, it’s implied that Dream killed Tommy, unsure of if the resurrection would even be possible on humans.

Which, to risk something that important, seems unbelievably stupid. Dream needs Tommy, from his perspective. Tommy is his ‘toy,’ the one who makes everything fun. If he lost him and couldn’t get him back, what then? Oh well, everything Dream was doing was all for nothing, I guess.

Why not attempt this experiment on literally anyone else first? Like Sapnap or Bad or, hell, even Ranboo. I suppose it could be that, as soon as Dream got the book, he experimented with it after the 16th. This appears to be insinuated with Friend and Hendry’s revival, although this is uncertain. But even then, he was still unsure of the book’s effect on a human being.

Also, this means, hypothetically, Dream’s entire plan of escape hinged on the experiment working, to begin with, and also on bringing back Wilbur if it somehow did. I find this even more ridiculous. Why Wilbur? That man couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone get through the traps in Pandora’s Vault. Even if he is intelligent after years* in the afterlife, that’s also a strange assumption.

How do people learn things in the void? Where do they even get this knowledge? I’d honestly argue Techno is a far more competent choice than Wilbur. And even if Dream did bring him back and tell him he owed him his life, what’s to stop Wilbur from just killing him permanently? Or killing himself, continuously?

No way would Wilbur want to be controlled by anyone, ever. The dude would sooner fuck off into the mountains and become a nomad than help a neon green bodysuit cosplay as Light Yagami.

Dream’s discussion about Sam implies that he wasn't playing any part in Dream’s plan, making Sam appear entirely incompetent and neglectful of Tommy.

Dream talked about Sam in a way that seems detached and unaffiliated. He also mentioned him being broken up about Tommy’s fate and not being aware he’s still alive. Dream not being partnered with, or not using Sam in his plan leaves many plot holes. I’ll go through each one. The initial incident was an explosion, coming from the roof of Pandora’s Vault. This did not affect the Redstone mechanism for the doors or dispensers.

Meaning, Sam could’ve had Tommy leave the way that was expected for visitors after he investigated and found no issues. This likely couldn’t have been done in less than a day, but it would be better than an entire week. If Tommy was required to stay for longer, due to protocol, he could’ve gotten Tommy out and then placed him in one of the minor cells for the remainder of the time.

Also, no one else lost a canon life for leaving via the splash potion of harming and returning outside the maximum-security cell; why would Tommy? To add, Sam being uninvolved means that the explosion could have only been caused by Ranboo or Foolish. That, or it was placed long before and timed for the moment Tommy entered the main cell. (I’m going to ignore how ludicrous it is that someone would know the exact time Tommy would’ve entered the room with Dream.)

If Ranboo was the person behind the detonation, this implies he was necessary for Dream to kill Tommy to test the book. But that makes it even stranger. If this was Dream’s goal all along, why not kill Tommy the instant he was trapped with him? It makes no sense for him to wait so long.

Sam is also directly at fault for not letting Tommy out, even after the week was up. There was no reason not to. He already knew there were no issues with the prison at that point. Although, to be fair to Sam, his character may have been paranoid and checking everything more than necessary, just in case. But this still isn’t a good excuse for him ignoring protocol in this one instance, and yet, not in any of the others.

All of these plot holes or inconsistencies would be removed if it was revealed that Dream was blackmailing Sam in some way, or Sam had been working with him since the get-go. That Sam was the person who set off the explosion in the first place to trap Tommy inside. It would also explain Sam’s refusal to let Tommy out and by keeping him in there for longer than necessary.

This can also coexist with Sam’s attachment and care for Tommy. He probably wasn’t told about Dream’s plan to test the book and genuinely believed Dream wouldn’t hurt him. On top of that, Dream is known to be a pathological liar, so his statements about Ranboo and Sam could be entire fabrications.

Who knows?

The Book of Revival invalidates death entirely. The narrative now lacks both tension and consequence.

Another way the Dream SMP differs from other storytelling media is in the way it goes about its character deaths. In a TV show, for example, there will be characters who die just because, or when it’s important to the plot. However, it seems as if the Dream SMP is hesitant to commit to killing its characters. And there are many reasons for that.

The most important one being, killing someone’s character excludes them from the story and some of their livelihoods depend on them regularly streaming on the server. There is also the issue of the cast becoming extremely sparse if characters keep dying. Typically, in stories, when you kill a character, you should introduce another.

This keeps the cast from dwindling as the storyline goes on. This means the writers would have to find new streamers to join, who will develop their own characters and relationships with the plot’s continued momentum. This can be stressful and daunting to those who may be newly added in the future.

Keeping this in mind, the Book of Revival is annoying from a writer’s perspective. When death is no longer an issue for a story hinged on its characters’ mortality, then what do you have as a consequence anymore? We’ve explored every kind under the sun; from abuse, to betrayal, to loss, to destruction.

In stories, traditionally, death is a finality. It’s a conclusion. Whether it’s good or not depends on the character’s actions, its build-up, and the event’s execution. Without this lingering sense of danger, tension evaporates from the story.

Why should I care if Tommy loses in a fight to someone, if he’ll just come back a day later? Why should I care about what happened to Wilbur, if he just returns as if nothing happened? The answer is simple: I won’t. I will no longer care if Tubbo or Ranboo or Sam die in the story, because the idea of revival even being a possible outcome leaves me unenthused and uncaring.

The Dream SMP likes to flirt with death. It teases the demise of its main characters many, many times. More so Tommy’s than anyone else’s. Wilbur’s failed resurrection, which had unforeseen and unfortunate outcomes, is now strange in comparison to Tommy’s, which happened without a hitch.

To be fair, we actually don’t see how many attempts it took. But here’s the problem; Dream could do it without the book being physically present. He’s trapped in a prison with nothing on him, meaning he doesn’t need any materials either. It’s also implied he could do this as many times as he feels, for anyone he wants. This would be exceedingly overpowered, if not for one thing—Dream himself is mortal (at least, I fucking hope he’s mortal.)

If someone kills him one last time, that knowledge is gone forever. And I’m glad they’ve established at least some way for Tommy to win. Because at this point, I was losing faith.

There is also the bare minimum establishment that Dream can refuse to bring back those he doesn’t care for. He can also use it as a shield, holding this power over other people. If Dream is gone, death is permanent. But isn’t that how death is supposed to be, anyway?

What a bleak premise—the afterlife is pure eternal torture while life is cheapened by a lack of consequences.

Conclusion

All this to say, I am cautiously optimistic for the future. I hope dearly that every single one of these can be disproven or developed in the coming livestreams. Obviously, there’s not enough information to really determine what the end result will be, or how everything will fall into place.

Every time I have theorized about the story, it has done something completely different and pleasantly surprised me. I want this trend to continue.

Surprise me again—I’ll be here to see where it goes.

#answered asks #long post #tommyinnit #dream smp meta #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #this is slightly outdated still but whatever #hope this was helpful anon #tw abuse #tw suicide

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star-spangled-bingo · 3 years

Text

Star Spangled Bingo 2021

Purpose of the bingo

The focal characters of this bingo are the three Caps (Steve, Bucky, and Sam).

- You don’t have to choose one for the entire bingo. You can do one for Steve and the ten for Sam and the rest for Bucky or any combo thereof. You can also only write for two of them or one of them for the entire card.

- You can pair them however you want - with each other, a reader, an OC or a different character from the MCU or entirely other fandom. You can also write a general fic

- No matter how you chose to pair them the focus must stay on one of the three Caps. So if you write fx. Winterwidow focus still has to be on Bucky over Nat - or you can write a general fic as long as the focal character is fx Sam.

- The pairing involving one of the three has to be the main pairing. You can’t write Tony x Reader and have Stucky as a side pairing.

- Even if we describe them as the three Caps it’s up to you if Steve, Sam or Bucky hold the mantle in the fic/artwork. Fx. you can have Steve be Cap but still write a Bucky x Reader fic. Or you can write a Sam x OC and have no cap present at all. The focus is on the characters above the mantle.

- You’re fic also doesn’t have to be canon-compliant. You can write an AU if you want or you can make it as close to the MCU or comics as you choose.

OBS: 2021 dates are used in the following - search #round 3 or #rules to find 2021 important dates!

What you have to do

- Sign up - sign-ups for 2021 are open December 21st, 2020 to January 3rd, 2021 - We will open too late sign-ups late spring/early summer if you missed the window.

- Your submissions must be open to pictures on your chosen Tumblr otherwise we won’t be able to send you your card, and we will for normal signups send out cards between Dec 21st 2020 - Jan 13th, 2021 - if you haven’t received your card by then let us know.

- If you haven’t written any squares for your first, second or third card you got from them 2020 bingo, you can ask to transfer it to 2021. You can only do it with an entire free card and not just selected squares.

- You can get up to five squares changed (this does not apply to transfers) or a new card. You can only do this for your first card and only once.

- You can ask for a second card once you have filled the first and a third when you filled the second.

- You can write as many or as few squares as you would like. There are no scorecards but the one you may or may not choose to keep yourself. If you do choose to keep a score card you will get a badge per card to fill if you submit it to us. More on that later.

- You can start posting for the bingo Jan 1st and final day to post for this round and have it count towards a badge is December 31st, 2021.

- Last day to submit your masterlist for reblog/badge January 15th, 2022.

FIND MORE IMPORTANT DATES HERE

What do you get

- A card is 5x5 with one free space. You can ask to get up to 5 squares changed. More than that and you’ll have to ask for a new card. You can get changes once or a new card once. Not both or multiple times. You ask for changes via submit by submitting your card via photos to our blog and telling us which squares you want changed - same goes if you want an entirely new card. You still have to submit the old back to us (that way any of the admins can work on your remake, not just the one that created it for you).

- If you fill out a card we will create a badge for you. You can fill up to 3 cards per round and get up to three badges. Read more on submission of masterlists for badge here.

- A lot of prompts to play and have fun with under very few restrictions.

Restrictions

- No abusive ships are allowed. Some ships like Winteriron can be abusive if you focus on the negative but can also be based on healing, therefore they are a grey zone and fall under think about what you write, if you chose a pairing such as that one. Shipping Bucky with Rumlow will always be abusive and as a rule no villains shipped with heroes allowed. (Loki might be an exception cause he is a grey character, just think before you write with him too).

-No pairing an adult with an underage character. No aging up or down. This goes for side pairings as well so no Starker!

- No incest - that goes for Thorki as a sidepairing as well. Adopted or not they grew up as brothers.

- No non/dub con are allowed either.

- You can’t write smut if you are under the age of 18. If we catch you doing so you will be blocked from the bingo page and banned for participating.

- You can’t write smut if you are under 18. Everyone can write fluff, angst, crack, etc.

Formats and requirements

- Fics must state what square you fill, warnings, word count and pairing - if no pairing just write general (check the format page for ideas on how to format your post)

- Social Media AUs, Aesthetics, Edits, Fanart, Fanvids, podfics must have square filled, pairing and if needed warnings.

- Everything you post as a fill must be original and new content - or if you read someone’s fic as a podfic explicit consent from the author must have been given and they have to be credited on your post.

- Fics must have a minimum of 250 words - fics over 500 must have a keep reading to be reblogged.

- Use common sense for when posting artworks into long posts. They might need a cut too.

- Aesthetics have a 4 picture minimum and preferably accompanied by a 100-word description or drabble - words are not a must

- Gifsets has a 6 picture minimum.

- One piece of fanart in form of a drawing by hand or a computer program is considered a fill.

- Social media Aus must be a min of 6 pictures.

- Podfics must be a min of 3 min.

- Fanvids must be a min of 30 sec.

- All content can be added via link not to an original Tumblr post if you so choose as long as there is a Tumblr post with the format requirements we can reblog and the Tumblr post must be linked too on the masterlist you create when your card is filled.

- IF WE FORGOT YOUR TYPE OF ARTWORK SEND US AN ASK AND WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO WORK SOMETHING OUT - we are pretty open to all types of creative outlets but it’s hard to put restrictions of stuff we don’t know or know very little about.

- One square per fic/artwork. If you write a series each chapter can be considered a fill or the entire series can be a fill if you so choose. No combining squares within the bingo.

- You are free to combine our bingo with another bingo with no additional requirements added from our end. Just make sure you follow the other bingos rules too.

- Warn accordingly. If warnings are spoilers put them in the tags and tell people to check your tags for additional warnings on the post.

- You don’t have to use the same media for the entire card. You can have 3 fics and 1 vid and the rest fics fx.

- Tag us @star-spangled-bingo and make clear the fic is for SSB 2021 and use the #SSB2021 (in one word) on each square you fill.

Sanctions for breaking the rules

- If your post lacks a keep reading we won’t reblog it but it will still count as a fill.

- If you don’t tag us we can’t reblog you and if you don’t say it’s for SSB2020 in your header we won’t count it as a fill until you edited it into the post. This seems strict but we got 2019 floating and it is impossible to know which card what is for if you don’t mark it down for us.

- If your fill fail to meet the minimum requirements your fill will be reblogged but won’t count as a fill unless you add to it to meet the minimum.

- If your post doesn’t clearly show square filled, we won’t reblog it and it won’t count as a fill until you edited it in.

- If we discover you write smut and are under 18 - you will be blocked from the bingo blog and banned from participating in the bingo in the future even when you reach the age of 18.

- If you break this rule: No abusive ships are allowed. No pairing an adult with an underage character. No aging up or down. No incest and no glorification of non/dub con are allowed either. All of these go for side pairing also so no Thorki and Starker. Your post won’t count as a fill, nor will it be reblogged. You’ll get a reminder of our rules the first time you break it and the second you will be banned from the bingo.

HAVE FUN

is the most important rule and if you got any questions please direct them at the bingo blog not our personal blogs. We are happy to answer all your questions and we will get to all the asks as soon as we can!

#ssb 2021 #round 3 #round 3 rules #rules

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honnybunnie · 4 years

Text

Mc stuck or getting caught in the rain.

Lucifer:

It was late, he spent most of the day at rad, as he was exiting rad their you were laying in the ground. He was aware of the petrichor in the air, but he hadn’t bought an umbrella to shield himself.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were going to be drenched in rain water soon. The clouds looking more heavy as the seconds passed. Lucifer was not aware that you were welcoming the rain.

Drip, drip, and suddenly a downpour. All he could do was hover over you. With eyes closed you felt droplets, and a sudden weight over you. You unfurled your eye lids, to see Lucifer on top of you. He spoke “I can’t allow to get sick, it will disturb your studies.” You were a blushing mess, “ I Was waiting for you to leave rad, so we could walk together.” There was no change in Lucifer’s stern face, he retorted, “I see shall we rush to the dorm then.” “No we can stay like this until the rain dies down,” you reply not making eye contact. Lucifer Laughed a bit, displaying a small smile, “Yes lets stay like this a while,” he muttered placing a hand on your cheek.

Mammon:

He was out on a beauty errand for Asmo, Drizzle formed in the air. Looking for some shelter he rushed under into a coffee shop. They informed him that if he wanted some shelter he’d have to buy something. Without thinking he used the money for Asmo’s errand. “Oh crap” he thought, he may face the 5th’s temper.

He sat at the window in the coffee shop. He started to play on his D.D.D. to think of his next scam. Both of you not noticing each other for a bit. You took off your hoodie, and extended your arms, letting the precipitation hit your face. Triggering Mammon to look outside at you, “Oi!,” he shouted not knowing that you couldn't hear him. As soon as he was gonna bolt the coffee shop, he felt some warmth wrap around his eyes. One of the witches that he had a pact with Uttering “Guess who?” you spotted him finally, but felt in this situation you should let him be. You don’t want to fathom the thought of what she can do to you and Mammon. Putting your hoodie on and jogging to the house. At the same time Mammon finally removing the witches hand stating to her “your hands are too warm.” You were no where no longer there. He sighed realizing he missed a chance to walk home.

(Hooray if you knew what Kdrama I was referring to)

Leviathan:

Its like hes cursed or something, though he didn’t dislike getting caught in the rain. But the one time he leave the house to get something to match his otaku self. The thought of his limited edition Ruri-Chan Ur card getting wet terrified him. He felt one drop on his cheek and retreated to a nearby park. He found shelter under one of the seating areas. It looked kinda abandoned, but he saw one person there, skipping, and spinning in the rain. ‘What a normie,’ he thought. Glaring in their direction. The rain was hitting so hard, and the Normie was still embracing the droplets as it hit their surface. It wasn’t, they stopped, that Levi realized ‘Wait that’s my Normie, they’re going to catch a cold.’ “Mc,” Levi shouted, placing the card down, and running over to them. The confidence faded when they finally were face to face. “w-w-what are you doing,” he stuttered, “I-I don’t want to have to cancel any matches or tournaments to take care of you,” he mumbled becoming increasingly drenched by the minutes.

You cupped his cheek, “I don’t think I’ve seen it in anime, but I have in Korean Dramas,” you grazed his hair with your other hand, and leaned in half way hoping he’d meet halfway too. Very reluctantly, he leaned in, finally connecting the lips together.

You indeed got a cold, none the less, he was at your side for the most part.

Satan:

You watched in horror, the sudden grey skies, and water flooding the air. You weren’t expecting it. Its difficult to know if its going to rain, the sky only illuminated black skies. Sighing at the book in hand, you returned into the building the book recited in. The bookstore, you acquired a book that Satan desired to add into his piling collection. It had been the last one, he was smart enough to always place a order before the release date. However Lucifer had placed you into the care of Satan for exams, so he lost the opportunity to do it on time.

You rested in the area, where others who were also seeking shelter were, reading their books. It seemed appropriate to do the same. Upon placing a finger on the first page, you felt a very forced tap. Responding to the touch and viewing up. Realizing the Demon in front of you now looked embarrassed, He sighed. Meeting eye level, “I’m sorry if I startled you,” he avoided eye contact, “they said the last person to buy the book had h/c hair, and was in store. I should have know it was you.” You relaxed your shoulders, retorting “then lets read it together. He nodded in agreement and sat next to you.

Asmodeus:

The pour down had been passing though for a while, thought maybe going to Majolish, skimming thought the new “fall” collection and testing out outfits would help pass the time. “Devildom doesn’t even have any season,” you snickered, “but I’m a sucker when it comes to autumn colors.” You wanted to view yourself in the bay mirrors. Taking a peek behind the curtain, there was no one in sight. So quickly you took a stance in front of the 3 sided mirror taking a quick spin.

Taking a glance on behind you though the mirror., there was a familiar pink haired demon. You didn’t want to be spotted, right now was the best time to be alone without any of the brothers.

Organizing all the scattered clothing in the dressing room, rushing the process causing you to fumble a bit. “Are any of these dressing rooms opened,” he shouted, “everyone saying except you. He placed himself in front of yours, jigging the handle. The door was neglected to be locked due to your earlier panic. The door was swung opened. Quickly covering what you could, a surprised yet amused Asmo entered the enclosed space. Eyeing you head to toe, toe to head. He hurriedly progressed into the room, and locking the door behind him. “MC, if you wanted me to see you so bad, you should have just said.”

Beelzebub:

He was out for a run being a practically hot day at devildom, he decided to run in the rain without a shirt. He definitely caught the eyes of many admirers. He passed Madam Screams, without the desire to munch out on the pastries. The smell that usually allures him, was washed with the rain.

Passing the buildings into the forest, he picked up the aroma of someone familiar. Trailing the scent, he spotted you, leaning and sleeping against a tree which. There was enough coverage for you in the rain. The sight of your damp body, lured him closer, ‘Were they okay,’ he thought. Scanning you, he was only able to spot red tint on your cheeks. “Are they sick,” he whispered, connecting the foreheads. You were warm.

He wasn’t as soaked as you, but he didn’t want you to be exposed to the precipitation again. So he positioned you next to his chest, concealing you from rain. Shielding you from the rain with his Sweater.

You woke up when the rain had transformed into drizzle, with mist. blinking you eyes, only now noticing the warmth, and figure cuddling you. “Beel?,” you questioned. He smiled setting his head on top hers, a blush running across your face. “you don’t have a fever no more,” he mumbled. Blanked stared, he laughed at the expression, dragging you close. “Lets stay like this longer,” he stated.

Belphie:

I was in the middle of my afternoon nap, repeating the words that Lucifer Scolded him for. He wasn’t interested in the task that Lucifer was about to pass down to him.

He groaned at every word, Lucifer spoke. “Belphie, stop,” Lucifer scoffed, “Look Mc is still out in the gloomy weather, Take this umbrella to her. No more complaints. GO!”

Remembering his task, he smiled a bit, only he was available. He was going to be able to share a umbrella with them. Reaching the destination, he spotted you making conversation, with Solomon who was offering to share his umbrella with you and to walk you all the way home. Belphie wasn’t having any of it, he bolted forwards, snatching your waist. You were shocked, glancing into his eyes, him glaring you down. “I’m going to take them home, after all we sometimes sleep together,” Belphie sputtered. Solomon was amused by Belphie’s sudden open affection towards you. Smirking at his jealously. Pulling you under the umbrella and laying his arm on your waist. “Mc, if you can’t nap with other men, you can’t share umbrella’s either,” he vocalized. You could only smile, and nodded in agreement.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obeymeshallwedate #obeyme #shall we date #obey me leviathan #obeymemc #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obeymelucifer #obey me luci #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me mammoney #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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wiener-soldiers · 4 years

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how to (not) be internet famous - peter parker

summary: peter parker becomes internet famous overnight and doesn’t exactly know how to deal with it, which causes him to end up in a precarious situation.

words: 4k

warnings: rien, mes amis!

a/n: part of the unsolved mini-series! just wanted to write a lil blurb w some world building before i go into more ghost/ghoul hunting. also goes without saying that this is minimally edited, sorry lol

unsolved masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist! | faq

Peter Parker did not intend on becoming famous.

It was quite literally an accident—a byproduct of being in the right place in the right time. But, completely out of his control, Peter Parker helped solved an Unsolved mystery.

It was one of Buzzfeed Unsolved’s most viewed episodes; the story of Peter Quill, a little boy who went missing right after his mother died. Of course, one theory was that he was abducted by aliens. That was the joke theory.

Until Peter Parker and Y/N Stark proved that theory to be correct.

Being fans of the show, the duo was vaguely aware of the existence of Peter Quill, the mysterious boy who went missing. It wasn’t until Thor traveled back to Earth with the rest of the Guardians did Peter and Y/N recognize Peter Quill.

Of course, their first instinct was to interview him about how he got abducted and ask about some space stories. Their next instinct was to invite Ryan and Shane of the Unsolved Network to interview him as well.

This subsequently made the internet blow up. And Peter Parker became famous because of it.

The video titled “We Solved A Buzzfeed Unsolved Case” garnered millions of views overnight, with thousands of comments flooding the video. Peter’s Twitter went from less than a hundred followers to more than a hundred thousand overnight, and his Instagram blew up in a similar fashion.

He was used to Spider-Man being famous, but Peter Parker had never gotten that much attention before. It was surreal.

He found himself sitting on the brown leather couch at the Avengers Tower (where the Stark family alose happened to reside) the morning after the video was released, staring at his texts blow up in front of him.

Ned: Dude you’re famous?? You’re on the YT trending page!!

MJ: can i meet ryan and shane? also warning: flash and brad don’t know you’re dating y/n so their texts may be a little hostile…

Flash: Damn Parker, how do you know Y/N Stark???

Brad: Why haven’t you brought Y/N around?

Betty: Peter you HAVE to let me interview you for the school news! When are you free??

“What the hell is going on…” Peter whispers, jaw unhinged as notification after notification caused his phone to ‘ding’ out of control.

“Hey Pete,” he hears a voice flow into the living room. His girlfriend walks past him, not before pressing her lips to his cheek. His cheek warms at the contact and his eyes follow her pajama-clad body into the large kitchen.

“Did you see the video you posted?” Peter calls after her. Y/N shakes her head as she throws a banana along with other frozen fruit into the blender.

“No…why?” she calls back. “Do you want a smoothie?”

“No, but thank you,” Peter replies quickly. He turns his body to face her and raises his voice at the sound of the blender turning on, “It’s trending. Like, everywhere.”

“I figured it would,” Y/N calls back, the hum of the blender drowning her voice out.

“How are you so chill?” Peter asks her, slightly bewildered.

“There was paparazzi in the hospital waiting room when I was bored. You get used to stuff like that,” she answers, before making her way back to Peter, smoothie in hand. She positions herself on the couch, placing her legs overtop Peter’s lap.

He places his arms over her shins instinctively. “I’m definitely not used to stuff like that,” he mumbles, still scrolling through his notifications.

Y/N scoffs, “You’re Spider-Man, honey. That comes with press.”

“Spider-Man is famous, not me,” he counters.

The sound of the elevator opening and deep voices conversing cut the couple off as they turn towards the door. Tony, followed by Steve, Bucky, and Natasha file into the common floor, all deep in conversation. They don’t seem to notice the young couple, so Y/N decides to make them known.

“Morning!” Y/N calls out.

Tony’s head snaps up towards his daughter, before shifting and narrowing his eyes at Peter. “We were just talking about you,” he says, walking towards the two.

“Oh?” the younger Stark challenges.

Natasha lets out a soft laugh before patting Peter on the shoulder. “You need a public relations lesson,” she says to Peter.

“A what?”

Y/N lets out a fit of giggles. “It’s to make sure you don’t say something stupid to a large audience,” she tells him, and Peter scrunches his nose.

“Why would I need a…oh.”

Tony smirks at him before showing him his ever-rising Twitter followers. “Yeah, oh. That video you posted basically broke the internet. Even old man Steve is talking about it.”

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles sympathetically at him before handing him a grey folder. “Protecting Spider-Man’s identity is still your number one priority, right?” Steve asks and Peter nods. “So, we need to make sure you don’t say anything stupid or post something that gives away who your alias is.”

“So, what’s in the folder?” Peter asks the adults in the room.

“Homework,” Natasha answers. “I’ll help make sure that your identity stays a secret, but I need you to make sure you read that document very carefully. They’re full of general best-practices and protocol for if your identity is exposed.”

“Got it,” Peter whispers, mostly to himself.

“Great,” Tony says with a pat to his shoulder. “It was a funny video, by the way. Can’t wait to see what you kids come up with.”

Over the weekend, even though Natasha, Tony, and Y/N prepared him as best they could for the storm that would most likely ensue on Monday at school, Peter still didn’t feel prepared.

He stood in the middle of his room, gnawing at his lip and choosing between the dark blue sweater and the maroon sweater. Granted, the sweater wouldn’t make that much of a difference and hide the fact that Peter was still a big nerd, but he had a feeling he needed to make a good impression today.

“Babe, you are overthinking it,” Y/N mumbles from Peter’s bed. Like most weekends, she spent the night at Peter’s place. Although things do tend to get a little heated, most nights the couple just watch movies, play video games, or take a walk around the block.

“You’re not the one going to a public school,” Peter mumbles back. It was true; Tony had tried sending Y/N to Midtown, but the paparazzi was getting unbearable, so she took online classes instead. Y/N didn’t mind missing out on the high school experience—her life was so surreal that nothing could make her feel normal, except Peter or Morgan.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Y/N groans and rolls out of bed. She shivers at the cool breeze caused by the AC being blasted on high as she wraps Peter’s flannel around her body even tighter. “I meant that you’ll look really good in whatever you wear, honey.”

Peter rolls his eyes but turns to face his girlfriend, dark blue and maroon sweater still in hand. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he admits.

“Afraid everyone will look at you differently?”

“Afraid everyone will think I don’t deserve someone like you…”

Y/N gives him a soft smile before closing the gap between them. She peppers kisses along his shoulder, his neck, then finally his lips. Peter ducks down to look at her, wrapping his arms underneath the flannel she’s wearing and around her waist.

“I love you, ya know that right?” she whispers into his collarbone.

Peter hums in response.

“And the world doesn’t get to decide who or what you deserve. Because you deserve a hell of a lot more than what I can give you.”

Peter groans, “Don’t say that. You give me everything I need.”

“And that’s what matters,” Y/N replies. “Not what anyone else thinks. Okay?”

Peter pulls away and gives his girlfriend a sincere smile, “Okay.”

“Good,” she muses before pressing a final kiss to Peter’s lips. She then takes the maroon sweater from his hands. “Wear the dark blue sweater, I want to wear the maroon one.”

---

Despite Y/N’s encouraging words, Peter’s still nervous.

He’s nerves kick in as soon as Y/N has to leave his place while he packs his school bag. He’s nervous on the subway on the way to school. He’s nervous as he crosses the street towards campus. He’s nervous when he’s walking toward the school entrance, so much so that he can hear his heartbeat over the podcast he’s listening to. And he’s especially nervous when people openly gawk and stare at him as he makes his way to his locker.

Luckily, MJ and Ned are there to save him.

“They’re all staring,” MJ comments as Peter yanks his locker open and reaches for his calculus textbook.

Peter laughs nervously, “I’m aware.”

“You know that clique of really hot sophomores who won’t shut up at lunch?” Ned adds on as he stares at his phone, “They’re all thirsting over you on Instagram.”

Peter slams his locker shut in surprise, “Wh-what?”

Sure enough, Ned’s phone is filled with screenshots of the video on Allison’s Instagram story with the caption ‘hmu peter ;) or i may have to fake needing a tutor to talk to you.’

Peter gags. MJ snickers.

“Oh my god, this is awful,” Peter shudders as he turns around and makes his way to first-period calculus. Ned and MJ follow suite. “Don’t they know I’m dating someone?”

“Peter, if we barely knew you were dating someone until we met her and started handing out with her,” MJ deadpans.

“Speaking of your girlfriend,” Ned butts in, “are you going to tell her about Allison?”

“No, she’d probably laugh. And it’s not a big deal, right?” Peter answer honestly, smiling slightly at the thought of Y/N laughing her ass off at the thought of sophomores at his own school acting thirsty on main.

Ned stops dead in his tracks, “What if she was actually talking to you?”

“Ned, what—”

“Hi, Peter!” a high-pitched voice attempting to sound sultry cuts him off.

MJ laughs in amusement before walking away as Peter squeaks out, “H-hi, Allison.”

Ned pats his shoulder encouragingly before walking away, giving Peter a ‘you’re on your own’ look.

She bats her eyelashes at him, giving him a shy smile. Peter’s distracted by her bright pink outfit—she looked straight out of an early-2000s movie. It suited her, but it wasn’t really Peter’s preference.

“I watched your video, it was really funny,” Allison says, inching closer to Peter.

“Thanks, um look, I gotta go—”

“You doing anything tonight?” she immediately asks.

No, Peter thinks, but he racks his brain for an excuse. May is working so he can’t use her, Tony is at the Avengers’ Compound, MJ has art class, Ned is working on a group project, maybe Y/N…

It’s too late. “Great!” Allison quips, “I’m having a party tonight and you’re invited, hottie. I’ll AirDrop you the details.”

“Uh, thanks,” he mutters pathetically as she practically skips away.

It wasn’t just Allison’s invitation that stuck out to him; it seemed like everybody more popular than Peter was giving him some sort of attention. If Peter didn’t know better, we would’ve been flattered. Instead, he was suspicious.

By lunch, Peter had been invited to three parties, a football game, a boat ride, and more invitations to hangout than he could count. Even Mr. Harrington made a jab at Peter’s internet fame.

As soon as the bell rang, Peter bolted out of his English class and ran out the front gates to take a breath. Even as Spider-Man, public events often felt overwhelming. Now, with no excuse to leave and no disguise to hide his flustered expression, the few minutes of silence he had at beginning of lunch was the only break he got all day.

“You don’t look too hot, babe,” he hears a voice say. From his spot leaning against the railing of the school entrance, he lifts his gaze and finds Y/N Stark staring up at him from the bottom of the stairs.

He stands up immediately and meets Y/N halfway down the stairs. He smiles widens as he gets close to her, “What are you doing here?”

“MJ texted me—said you were feeling overwhelmed,” she says nonchalantly, but concern laces her features. “You doing okay?”

“Just not used to so many people giving Peter Parker attention. And the feeling that they probably just want to hang out with me because they want to be famous makes me icky.”

Y/N hums and reaches for his torso to give him a hug. Peter is on the step above her, so he wraps his arms around her shoulders and rests his chin on her head. “I know how you feel,” she mumbles.

Peter laughs half-heartedly, “Got invited to a shit ton of parties, though.”

Y/N chuckles into his chest, “Oh really?”

“One of which is tonight. Got any plans?”

“Hmm…maybe,” she tells him. “Dad wants me to be his plus one to a gala thing, but I don’t really want to go.”

“You’d rather go to a shitty high school party?”

“I’d rather do anything, honestly.”

A honk from a car parked on the curb catches their attention. Peter looks up and finds Happy peering his head through the window of a black sedan. “Hate to break you two up, but I really don’t want to be swarmed by high schoolers,” Happy shouts, “so we should get going, Y/N.”

Y/N sighs, “And, that’s my cue.”

“I’ll see you tonight, maybe?” Peter asks hopefully, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

“Maybe. Text me the address, but don’t bail on the party,” Y/N tells him before giving Peter a proper kiss. Another honk from Happy causes them to break away, followed by the school doors opening and more and more people filtering outside. A series of shocked gasps at Y/N Stark and Peter Parker in such a compromising position prompt Y/N to start walking down the stairs.

“See you, Peter,” Y/N shouts as she quickly makes her way down the steps.

Peter waves to Y/N in the passenger seat as her and Happy drive away. His phone the buzzes with a text from Y/N:

Y/N 🥰: hang in there bb, love you!

“Yo, dickwad!” Peter hears Flash shout from behind him, “Why didn’t you introduce me to your Stark friend?”

Peter sighs. This was going to be a long day.

---

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I want to May…it’s just that—”

“It’s just that you want Y/N there?”

Peter sighs and shakes his head. He sits in the passenger seat of May’s car as she’s parked outside Allison’s house where the party is taking place. He’s beyond uncomfortable: the girl who was shamelessly flirting with him was sending him DMs, asking him when he was going to show up to her party. His skinny jeans—the nice ones saved for special occasions—were still a little stiff because he never really wore them, and he’s sure he’s made sweat stains on his white t-shirt.

“I guess, I just want the high school experience, to feel normal. Even if it’s a fake normal,” Peter says honestly, fiddling with his hair in the mirror. “But everything is easier with Y/N around.”

“Did she answer your texts?”

“I sent her the address and she said she would try to find an excuse to leave the gala early, but I don’t know if she’s gonna make it,” Peter says dejectedly.

May nods understandingly, “If you want to leave, just send me an SOS. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Thanks, May,” he says before pressing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn’t feel his body move, but his feet carry him out of the car and towards the front steps of the house. He doesn’t realize he’s reached for the door until he’s already inside, looking around at the darkened house illuminated by colourful lights and blaring with music.

“Peter!” he hears someone call from the top of the stairs. It’s Allison, clad in a sheer top, lacy bralette, and tight leather pants. He tries not to gawk at her, but he gulps in nervousness as she approaches.

“You made it!” she exclaims over the rumbling bass. Without warning she pulls Peter into a hug, pressing her body close to his. His muscles tense in surprise, but he feels Allison shiver.

Fucking great, Peter thinks as Allison eyes him up and down, biting her lip.

“Do you want a drink?” Allison says, latching onto his bicep and guiding him further into the house.

“Um, sure,” Peter says as he tries to remove his arm from her grasp while still remaining subtle. He fails, and Allison proceeds to run her nails up and down his arm.

Someone shoves a solo cup in Peter’s hand, and he takes a few big gulps immediately. His powers can’t get drunk, but he can sure as hell try if he has to handle Allison’s not-so-subtle advances towards him all night.

“I’m glad you came,” Allison suddenly whispers in his ear before biting his ear lobe in an attempt at seduction.

Peter whips his head around to confront her but before he can say anything, she’s left him to chat with her friends who have been watching the whole interaction in jealousy and awe. Great, Peter thinks before wiping his earlobe clean of her spit.

The party isn’t too bad; a few games of beer pong are going on the patio and people are taking turns jumping into the pool in just their underwear. Peter makes small talk with some people he recognizes, but for the most part, he leans against the wall and watches Flash pretend to be good at beer pong. Every few minutes, he checks the time on his phone and hopes for a text.

At 9:15, Peter has been at the party for forty-five minutes and is on his third drink. He still doesn’t feel buzzed.

At 9:24, Allison checks up on him again and tries to get him to strip with her and jump into the pool. He declines.

At 9:32, Flash loses his third game of beer pong in a row and a heard of angry freshmen finally scare him away from the table.

At 9:47, he hears excited commotion inside the house. He doesn’t bother to look inside and instead stares at the amber liquid in his cup.

He feels a hand fall on his shoulder, and he groans, finally fed up with Allison’s antics. “Look Allison, I think you’re sweet and all but—”

“Who’s Allison?”

Peter’s face breaks into a huge smile at the sight of Y/N Stark, still in her formal evening wear. The dark green, straight gown falls to the floor and the simple dress is bedazzled by nothing except the gold necklace Peter got her for her birthday and the million-dollar Stark smile.

“You made it,” he says in relief and excitement.

Y/N smirks back, “I’m overdressed.”

“You look beautiful.”

Y/N examines Peter’s outfit, “You look good too. This shirt makes your arms look huge.”

Peter blushes but takes a hold of her hands, only half-aware that half of the party is probably staring at them right now. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Y/N laughs, “We were stuck in traffic. Dad wanted to get out of there too, it was pretty boring. We had to drop him off at home, first.”

“You left a boring party to come to another boring party, then. The difference is that you don’t get free dinner over here.”

Her laugh draws more attention to the duo and Peter finally finds the balls to look at the decent-sized crowd accumulating around them. He then notices a familiar face push through the people.

“Oh my god, you’re Y/N Stark!” Allison gushes as she approaches her, “Can I get a picture with you?”

Y/N smiles at her, “Um, sure?”

Allison squeals and shoves her phone into someone’s face, demanding them to take her picture. After a few photos are taken, Allison grabs her arms giddily and says, “You should totally follow me on Insta, these pics turned out really cute.”

Y/N looks amusedly at her, “Yeah, for sure…”

Allison then gasps, “You know Peter, too! We go to school together.” Allison then wraps her arms around Peter’s bicep and Y/N and Peter lock eye contact; Peter looks at Y/N in a state of panic and Y/N looks at Peter with nothing but amusement.

“Yeah, I figured,” she tells her, the amused expression growing.

Allison gasps again, “Peter! We should get a picture together too!”

Before he can really process it, Allison is pulling Peter close and shoving her phone in front of their faces. As Allison makes several different selfie faces, Y/N laughs softly as Peter smiles awkwardly at the camera. Suddenly, the feeling of lip-glossed lips touches his cheek and Peter raises his eyebrows in surprise and watches as Allison presses a kiss to his cheek in front of his girlfriend and what seemed like half the party. Her kisses trail down his neck, jaw, and ear before Peter finally gets over his initial shock and laughs awkwardly.

“Okay, um. That was kinda weird, Allison. You see, I’m ac—”

Allison juts her lip out and pouts, “But these were turning out so cute, Petey!”

Y/N Stark finally breaks out into a fit of hysterical laughter and both Peter and Allison turn to her with a bewildered expression.

“What?” Allison asks accusingly, thinking that she’s being mocked.

“Honey, he’s not interested.”

Allison’s jaw unhinges, “And how would you know?”

“Sweetheart, you’d be embarrassed if I told you.”

She scoffs. “Try me.”

“I’m dating Peter.”

Allison’s eyes bulge. The group of people watching the interaction gasp. Peter chokes on his own spit.

Allison’s face suddenly gets very, very red. “Miss Stark, I’m so, so sorry—"

Y/N holds out a hand to stop her rambling. “Don’t worry about it, love. If I wasn’t already dating him, I would be all over him, too,” she quips before grabbing Peter’s hand and leading him out of the party.

“E-erm, bye! Thanks for inviting me,” Peter calls back as Y/N leads him out of the house and towards the black sedan where the driver was waiting for the two to be done partying.

“All things considered, I would call that a pretty tame first fan interaction,” Y/N tells him as they walk towards the car. Her arm is wrapped around his torso as she leans her cheek on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter’s arm slings around her shoulders and looks down at her face. Her eyes twinkle in the moonlight and her features are light with amusement. “You’re not mad?” he asks her.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because another girl was kissing me in front of you. And that you had to out our relationship.”

“Not a valid reason to be mad, to be honest. She didn’t know, and our relationship was bound to get out anyway.”

Peter laughs lightly, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Y/N hums, “Yeah, I know. But so are you. And don’t worry, after a few weeks, the whole school will be a little chiller about your internet fame.”

A week later, Y/N and Peter uploaded a video where they went ghost hunting with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes and it broke the internet yet again. Needless to say, the whole school was not very chill about it.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #tom holland #unsolved #bf unsolved #wiener soldiers

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zekroudon · 3 years

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Dinner with the in-laws

Adrien's first dinner with Marinette's parents since they officially got together. A lot of puns ensues. As usual, you can read it on Ao3 here.

This was the fic I wrote for my application for the Totographs zine, but I didn't get picked, but I'm proud of myself for applying! Once again, beware, lots of puns ahead.

P.S. I won't be writing fanfics during November since I'm attempting Nanowrimo for the first time! It might not have been the best idea since I still have my classes, but I'll manage.

Edit: Thanks @komorebirei for beta-ing and their insightful tips.

As Adrien stands in front of the door to Marinette’s home, the bouquet he got for her feels heavy and useless. He has already given so many roses to her, but they feel meaningless compared to how grateful he is to still have her in his life. Her parents must know how amazing she is — they’ll be disappointed…

He’s hit by flashbacks to the events that led to Tom being akumatized into Weredad. Coming to the bakery after a lonely breakfast. The grey gloomy sky. The awkward kissing Marinette on the cheeks. The pink rose. Admitting he loved Ladybug, Ladybug and not Marinette, an irony Plagg kept teasing him about now that he was fully aware of her identity. Marinette being too good of an actress at being hurt. The enormous tower of vines with the angry beast on top protecting his princess. Ladybug only appearing at the end when everything was crumbling…

Even though Nino assured him it was casual enough, yet fancy, and that Marinette would like it—a light green buttoned shirt, with only the top two buttons undone, and dark jeans—Adrien feels like he’s underdressed. Plagg phases through his shirt and looks him in the eyes.

“Just press the doorbell! I’m starving and I can’t wait to see Sugarcube!”

“Plagg, what if I mess up again? What if they hate me?”

Adrien starts fidgeting with the bouquet in his hands. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

“How could they hate you? I’m pretty sure Pigtails couldn’t hate you.”

“But, what if…”

The kwami presses the doorbell and returns to his warm pocket while dread fills Adrien. He hears the steps creak lightly as someone comes down to open the door. Is it Tom? No probably not—he’s heavier and the steps would creak more. Maybe Sabine? She can also be very scary when she wants to…

The door opens and relief floods his body at the sight of his lady, princess, and girlfriend. Marinette is wearing a pink dress with a black jacket. He didn’t fail to notice the small cat paws and the kitty she embroidered on the jacket. The dress is fairly simple to the casual eye, but having been raised in the fashion industry for so long, he recognizes all the hard work she put into the hems and her trademark flower motif. Her black hair, free from the usual pigtails, cascades in waves over her right shoulder.

“You look… beautiful,” are the only words that escape his lips.

“Thank you, you look great too!”

“So… These are for you!” he says, extending the flowers to her.

“Thank you! They’re pretty...” She leans her head into the bouquet, smelling its perfume. “They smell amazing too! Let’s go upstairs so I can put them in some water.”

Adrien follows her as they enter the apartment over the bakery. Delicious scents hit him as they step inside. Except for the usual sweets from the bakery, he can smell a plethora of aromas he is not familiar with. An overly excited Tom practically bounces to him, followed by Sabine, who looks more calm and composed. Adrien swears the man is about to burst from how much he is shaking and buzzing with energy. He kisses Sabine’s cheek and extends his hand to shake Tom’s, who gladly accepts.

“Welcome, Adrien, we’re glad you could make it! We could not wait to meet the young man that stole our little daughter’s heart.”

“The pleasure’s all mine! Thank you for having me for dinner.”

Once Tom let go of his hand, it instinctively went to rub the back of his neck, his usual tic when he’s nervous. Fear fills him as the man’s eyes grow big like saucers when a ray of light hits his ring, making it shine a little. Does he recognize him as Chat Noir? Marinette looks at him, unsure of what to make of her father’s reaction.

He then turns and picks up Sabine. He whirls her before doing a pirouette himself.

“Our little daughter is engaged! She proposed to Adrien! We need to prepare the wedding cake, it’ll be the best Paris has ever seen!”

“Tom, dear…” Sabine says, trying to bring back her husband to Earth, with no success.

“What?” is the only word that escapes Adrien’s mouth.

“Is it another case of Oblivio?” Adrien asks himself. ”Last time I checked, we were only dating…” He realizes at the same time as Marinette what gave Tom the idea, but she’s quicker to react. He thought that Adrien’s miraculous was an engagement ring. Though, it’s not on the correct hand…

“We’re not engaged, Papa!!” shouts Marinette, calming her father. “The ring’s, um…”

“It was from my mother, it’s not a wedding ring. Not that I would mind being engaged to Marinette, she’s amazing and any guy or girl would be crazy to turn her down. I mean, I’d gladly propose to her, but I don’t want to go too fast and I’d rather have your blessing before…”

He is stopped by a hand on his arm. Sabine looks up sweetly at him, just like she did with Chat Noir all those years ago.

“It’s okay, dear, we know you love our daughter very much—it’s obvious in your eyes. Tom just tends to get ahead of things. That poor Chat Noir, I hope he wasn’t too traumatized.”

“I don’t think he is…” Adrien shyly replies.

Since he arrived a bit early, Adrien offers to help make dinner. Considering his lack of ability in the kitchen, he gets vegetable duty, since it’s pretty straightforward and he won’t risk ruining the meal with a beginner’s mistake by putting in too much spice or causing a fire.

“You know, I can’t believe no one ever taught you to cook—but at the same time, knowing your father, it does make sense.”

“Yeah, I carrot believe it either. I guess he expected me to stew in the mansion and have a cook for my entire life.”

“Even for you, that was pretty bad,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Finish slicing them, it’s nearly ready...”

“I don’t know about that, young lady—there’s always thyme for puns,” replies Tom with a smirk, a fire lit in his eyes. “Once you’re done Adrien, I’ll knead some fruits for dessert

“Of course! Would you help me, gourdgeous princess? We make the perfect pear , after all.”

“I think you’ll be apple to do it yourself, my prince.”

“Ah, you leave me floured ! You know I only have pies for you.”

“You’re such a weirdo…”

“Maybe, but I’m your weirdough and you loaf me.”

“See, Sabine, they were baked for each other. I’m sure muffin could break them apart.”

A little bit later, once they are all sitting at the table, plates set and food served.

“This is so delicious! I don’t think my chef has ever made me something this good!”

“I doubt your chef would have cooked this—it’s not really suited for a model’s diet,” Sabine says. “But thank you. I could show you some recipes if you want.”

“I’d love that, Mrs. Cheng! Well, I’m bacon track now, I’m no longer following a diet as strict as before: no more drumsticks and crumbs. Dough , I have to admit that I would have been toasted if my father had found me eating a meal like this.”

“You can call us Sabine and Tom, dear, no need to be so formal.”

“I’m glad to hear that! You sure could add more meat to those bones of yours,” Tom adds jokingly.

“The yeast he could have done was to let you see your friends more often,” Marinette replies drily.

“It’s okay, it’s all behind us now. The bread of akumas, the pain …” He adds, giving Marinette a slice of bread. She shakes her head, but still takes it.

“Doughnut worry, son, you’ll always be welcome here. I could show you the ropes of a baker’s job! I croissant your talent.”

The rest of the main meal goes well—more puns, talking about their future and hopes. Adrien loved the fact that Tom and Sabine didn’t expect him to follow in his father’s footsteps and take the reins of Gabriel, unlike almost everyone else in his life. Instead, they encouraged him when he said that he would need some time to figure out what he really wants to do with his life, to forge his own path.

As Marinette ices the cake, Adrien finishes slicing the fruits and placing them. His fingers are all sticky and stained from the juices, but he’s the happiest he’s ever been. He feels like he’s part of a family, in a house filled with love, warmth, and fun. He dips his finger in some cream that has fallen from Marinette’s pouch. She’s fully focussed on the task at hand, just like when she was figuring out an especially complicated lucky charm in a face-off with a strong akuma. He gets an idea. It’s a bit mischievous, but a good one.

Smirking, he carefully sneaks behind her, channeling his inner Chat Noir. Once he’s close enough, he pokes her nose with his cream coated finger. She jerks back into his arms and squeezes the icing bag, making it explode. Their faces and clothes are covered with icing.

“Ch-Adrien!”

“See, m’ lady, I always told you that you’re la crème de la crème . Getting my miraculous was an ameowzing day in my life, but meeting you was the icing on the cake ,” he whispers in her ear.

“Shh! They’ll hear you!”

Her scolding expression lingers for a bit longer, but she soon bursts out laughing.

“I can’t believe you! All this for puns?”

“I felt like I needed to remind my girlfriend of how amazing she is...”

Tom and Sabine turn the corner to the kitchen, taking in the mess the two made.

“What are you two loafing about… Oh, that’s quite the mess, isn’t it?” Tom asks, stopping in his tracks.

“Go change into your pyjamas, I’ll finish icing the cake in the meantime,”Sabine sweetly adds, opening the fridge to get more icing.

As they walk past the counter to go change, Marinette picks a cherry and perches it on Adrien’s nose.

“You don’t need to remind me, Adrien, I’ll always cherrysh the koalaty time I get to spend with you.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tom dupain #sabine cheng #fluff #humor #puns #lots of puns #ml fic #fanfic #zekroudon's fics

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chocoholicannanymous · 4 years

Text

Cautionary Tail (Glee)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

A ficlet that’s been lying around in my outlines in need of some editing and a paragraph or three - perfect to deal with on a grey and dreary Sunday.

Cautionary Tail

The tale of Mister Whiskers is one warning sign after the other, from start to finish – from before the start even. It's just that Kurt doesn't see them, or doesn't recognize them, or connect the warnings to the correct things.

It starts like this. First day at NYADA – NYADA! – Kurt meets Annie. Annie who's from Dallas, and who is almost embarrassingly welcoming, and who tells Kurt way too much about herself.

Still. Except for Rachel she's the only one who even tries, while everyone else is gleefully whispering about how Kurt's only there because someone else dropped in, and how Madame Tibideaux took pity on him.

(That's...not quite how it went, with the truth being that yes, someone dropped out three and a half weeks in, and yes, NYADA prefers full classes so they looked for someone to fill the empty spot. But Kurt didn't get it because of pity, he got it because out of all the candidates that the Mme found acceptable he was the only one willing and able to show up in class the next morning. Anyway, the important thing is that he's here now, and he's going to make the most of it.)

So. Annie it is, when it comes to hanging out with classmates-who-aren't-Rachel. And that means listening to her stories, and trying not to judge. Just, it's not always easy.

Take her boyfriend, for one. David, who's super-cute, and who she's going to be with forever, and who didn't get accepted to college this fall but came with her to New York anyway and got a job just so they wouldn't be separated. Yeah. That...doesn't sound too healthy. In fact, it sounds a bit like Rachel and Finn, back before Finn started thinking for himself.

(And yes, Kurt knows how mean that sounds, just, Finn? When it comes to girls he really doesn't have a history of thinking for himself. He really, really doesn't. Just like Kurt maybe doesn't have a history of thinking clearly when it comes to boys, and ignoring how maybe it also sounds a little like him and Blaine.)

Anyway. That's Annie, with her super-cute boyfriend, and their super-cute apartment, and their super-cute plans, and Kurt's impending diabetes from all the sugar, and then the next super-cute thing. Which so happens to be Mister Whiskers.

Mister Whiskers is an eight week old kitten, who's the cutest ever, and Annie's baby, and Kurt's being bombarded with so many warning signs he can barely breathe. Two nineteen year olds, who have barely left home, who are still adjusting to living together (and no, Annie, three weeks alone in David's family's summer home does not count) and might implode any day now from adult life, and they're bringing a helpless living being into it.

(Kurt's just happy it's not an actual baby, which, yeah. Good thing Annie's almost as eager for a Broadway career as Rachel is or it might have been.)

This is never going to end well, Kurt thinks, as he listens to Annie bubble on about one cute thing after the other. Because everything is cute with Annie, until one day it's not.

Their apartment is too claustrophobic, and David's too boring, and doesn't understand her ambition, or her classes, and doesn't like her classmates, and he's holding her back. And just like that Annie's moving into the dorms, and David's never mentioned again.

(Kurt thinks, but never even hints at it out loud, that this is what would have happened to Rachel and Finn.)

That should be it, but of course it's never that easy. Because there's one thing left to stop being cute.

Mister Whiskers.

Because as cute as kittens are, the truth is that kittens always become cats, and cats are many things, but Annie-cute isn't one of them. Of course, that's not how she sells it to Kurt. Oh no. It's that cats aren't allowed in the dorms, and it doesn't feel right for David to take him alone, because it's their cat, and well, Kurt's the only one who isn't living either in a no-pets building, or with an allergic roommate, so can he please adopt Mister Whiskers?

He says yes, obviously, because it's not the cat's fault that Annie's not nearly as mature as she thinks. David walked into this eyes open, but Mister Whiskers? Had no choice.

And so Kurt has a purring, loving bedmate.

Over the months that come Mister Whiskers becomes Kurt's steady ground.

Mister Whiskers is the one getting cried on when Kurt breaks up with Blaine for cheating. He's the one listening to quiet confessions about not being able to truly let go of Blaine even when the option of Adam and all his sunshine becomes available. His fur is damp with tears when Adam tells Kurt that he's moving to LA after graduation.

Mister Whiskers is also the one listening to Kurt's worries about having gotten back together with Blaine too easily, and his guilt about telling Blaine to halt his proposal – because shouldn't he have been willing to go there too, if he really loves Blaine?

Maybe it isn't so strange that Mister Whiskers is also the one giving Blaine a haughty look before walking away and refusing even treats from him?

O---o--o---O

As June becomes July Blaine starts talking about how amazing it'll be with the two of them in New York, together all the time, with references to the loft, and Kurt starts getting flashbacks to Annie and her super-cute life. (Annie who just so happened to be dating one of their classmates two months after breaking up with David, and whose last email to Kurt talked about – you guessed it – the apartment the two of them are going to share with another couple this year, and how cute it'll all be.)

He agonizes about it, but in the end there's only one thing to do. Set things straight – and isn't that a joke – before it's too late.

“So you never told me where you are going to live,” Kurt breaks off another one of Blaine's soliloquys about fall in the City.

He listens to Blaine's verbal version of stomping the breaks, followed by a more than fair amount of spluttering.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sorry, did you tell me and I missed it? Because if so, I apologize. I wanted to know where you're going to live. I wanted to check up subway lines and such.”

“I'm going to live at the loft, obviously.”

There's an incredulous tone in Blaine's voice, with a darker undertone Kurt doesn't like, and together it reads as a warning sign. “Don't continue this line of thinking” it says. It is where Kurt's supposed to back away, with an apologetic line or three about of course Blaine's going to live there, Kurt was just being silly. Except Kurt can't take that easy out. He's got a lap-full of reminder why exactly he can't.

“No, you're not. No, listen to me. You can talk all you want about how we've been fine in the loft together, but that's never been for more than 3 days, and quite frankly that's not the same. That's been you being a guest in my home, where I've had all the responsibility.

“Blaine, you're 19. You've never lived alone. You've never been responsible for bills and food and cleaning, and you need to learn that before you move in with someone else. Because I don't have the time, or the energy, or quite frankly the desire to do it for you. If I'm going to be in a relationship I want to be so as a partner, not as a mom-replacement.”

He gets enough of that from Rachel, thank you very much. (Interestingly enough Santana, with all her bitchiness, is the easier person to live with. Even counting her complete disregard for privacy.)

Blaine starts talking again, and the longer he talks without Kurt backing down, the angrier he gets.

Finally Kurt sets his foot down.

“If you can't respect my desire for you to become a somewhat functioning adult without me holding your hand, then how am I supposed to trust that you'll respect anything else? Am I supposed to be the one to tell you what needs to be done, and how to do it, and keep track of you actually doing it – and doing it properly – and dealing with you not wanting to do it right then?

“If you live on your own and decide it's more important to go to Callbacks than to clean the bathroom,” something Blaine had done on his last visit, cheered on by Rachel, “then you're the only one dealing with a disgusting mess. If you live here then not only do I get to deal with it too, but I'm most likely the one having to clean it instead. I'm not doing that. Show me you can live on your own and we can talk about living together. Or don't. It's up to you.”

It's harsh, he knows it, but it's also necessary. Kurt's already responsible for taking care of himself and Mister Whiskers. He's not going to add another person to that. And he's definitely not going to let Blaine's dreams about “super-cute” steamroll over reality and back him into a corner.

Not even if it means being single again.

Yes, chances are Rachel and Santana will take Blaine's side in this and things will become very uncomfortable at the loft. But if so Kurt can take his own advice. He's never lived completely on his own after all, which might be a nice change.

He knows he'll do well on his own though – him and Mister Whiskers.

~The End ~

#chocoholic fics #kurt hummel #kurt fic #cat fic #haven't we all met an annie

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vesuviansunshowers · 4 years

Text

Apprentice Introduction: Orelia F. Soranzo

Hello everyone! I hope all is well~ I have been (and currently) in the process of sorting out a more thorough and comprehensive bio of my fan OC, Orelia for the longest time. While I was initially hesitant to post about her before perfecting her bio, I was very inspired by others posting about their lovely OCs~

I do have a backstory and other details in the works but, I was tired of her hiding her away from you guys. This is an introduction to my girl! I hope this finds everyone well, and I hope you all like her~ Feel free to ask about her if you have a liking towards her! (o^ ^o) A special shoutout to @thecardsimagine and @arcane-doodles for helping me shape her while creating her! They are talented and sweet people! Please do check out their blogs and content once you have the chance! I also want to note that it is very likely that I will edit and add more to this post to add more details about her and such! Without further ado, her bio is under the cut! Enjoy!

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EDIT 7/10/2020

Soo I have been encouraged by many people, to finish her bio! ^^ You guys know who you are, thank you so much~

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Disclaimer: All events(s), place(s) and people(s) in this OC introduction are fictitious and purely based on my imagination, except the mentions of the characters, places, and events of the game, The Arcana, which belongs to Nix Hydra.

Orelia Faven Soranzo

(Made in Picrew, link here)

Full Name: Orelia Faven Soranzo Height: 156cm/ 5′2-ish Zodiac: Taurus Birthday: May 17 MBTI: INFJ Age: 23 (Beginning of gameplay!)

Appearance

Skintone: Warm-toned Golden Brown.

Eyes: Dark-brown doe-eyes. Virtually looks black unless in the light. When practicing magic, her eyes glow gold.

Nose: Nubian nose (think of Beyonce’s or President Obama’s nose!)

Lips: Full and plump lips. Sometimes would wear lipstick.

Hair: Deep Brunette hair. Wavy/ Type 2a-c hair texture. Waist-length. She will pin up her hair with a hair stick if necessary or braid it back.

Physique: Mesomorph. Slender yet a soft and rounded form.

Miscellaneous

Favorite Meal: Beyaynetu Favorite Flower: Peonies and Red Carnations Favorite Fruit: Soursop Favorite Drink: White Rosehip tea blend Role: Fan-Apprentice, Fan-made Love Interest Love Intrest: Julian Devorak Familiar: Reu, a Rufous Hummingbird

Personality

When she was young, she was spirited and bright. However, due to her past traumas, she is reserved, however, she is warm when she is comfortable.

Sugar and Ice Personality: Stoic upon meeting with a saccharine essence once she warms up to others.

~Her positive traits: Attentive, Calm, Educated, Sentinent, Altruistic

Poised but down to earth. While she was raised with both privilege and simplicity, Orelia is modest.

She maintained some of her regal upbringings despite her hardships (this attributes to some people believing she’s hard to approach). Once she warms up to someone

She is very attentive and careful with her words, doings, and reactions.

~ Her negative traits: Reserved, Cool, Formal, Conflicted

Bottles up emotions, as she is wary at opening up to people.

She so private, that took years to tell her friends and loved ones about her past (and even still, she gave them a highly abridged version).

She tends to be conflicted about her thoughts and how she opens up to others.

Backstory

《 Content Warning: mentions of death, abduction, s*xual *ssault, pregnancy. Any sensitive topic will have a warning, as well as a downward arrow (↓) Next to the text 》

→ Born to Larion Soranzo (a Nobleman, Member of the Royal Chorus) and Nardos of Ezana (A Courtesan), in the land of Elgonia, North East of Praka

Larion is the second (Middle Child) son of Silvius Tiziano de la Soranzo (Duke) and Ersa Bianchini (Silvius’s wife). His siblings include Desdemona (his half-sister, Wizardess, lives in Vesuvia, shop-owner), Johannes, and Katerina.

Nardos is the 3rd daughter of Beruk (A farmer) and Eleni (a Seamstress, wife of Beruk). Her siblings include Maryam, Daveed, Zaira, Seyon, Makena, and Lishan.

→ Orelia has two half-siblings (of her mother, Nardos), Nasi and Addis. She is also the youngest of the three.

↓ Nardos suddenly falls ill and passes away from consumption (also known as tuberculosis, not the plague) when Orelia was 8 years old.

《CW: The next bullet point is grey as it mentions kidnapping and forced labor. Feel free to skip.》

↓ After she turned ten years old, Orelia, brothers and father were ambushed by an enemy of her Grandfather, Silvius,(he was a shady guy, screwed many people over, abused his power, and such.)

↓ The adversaries of her grandfather ended up abducting Orelia for ransom in Odaesi, a peninsula South of Elgonia. The only one who knew this was that grandfather, but the whole family thought of the worst.

↓ Her abductors ended not getting their money but felt somewhat remorseful. They took Orelia to their lord and had her pay off her grandfather's debt in servitude for 4 years.

→ At this point, Orelia was convinced that she was an orphan but missed her family deeply. So her main motivation was to go home at least to see her aunts, uncles, and cousins. She went through a lot in Odaesi (the country where she worked).

→ During her tumultuous time, she had two friends; Tiya and Cyril (who eventually becomes her boyfriend uwu.

→ After she completed servitude, she worked a few jobs so she can have money to leave. She was a seamstress, a dancer, and a gardener.

《CW: This next bullet point is grey as it mentions s*xual assault and death. Feel free to skip.》

↓ During this time she was violated by a stranger and ended up getting pregnant. She decided to proceed with the pregnancy after a failed attempt of abortion, however, the baby dies shortly after preterm birth.

As a way to protect Orelia to the harsh and traditional culture, Cyril proposed to her and promised to raise the child like his own ( his brother ended up finding the guy who hurt her and fatally attacked him though, karma’s a b*tch)

→ Cyril proposes to Orelia and they are betrothed. They decide to relocate to Vesuvia for a new start, but Cyril is drafted in a war. He goes back to Odæsi to fight.

→ Orelia bumps into her Aunt by chance at the Shopping Center while looking for work (at Flooded District). Desdemona takes Orelia in to live at the shop and introduces her to Asra and Muriel (Asra and Muriel were Desdemona’s apprentices. She was also the duo’s caretaker at the time.)

→ Meets her familiar Reu, the Hummingbird at a valley in the outskirts of Vesuvia.

↓ Desdemona passes away 3 years later of hypertension, and Orelia becomes the shopkeeper at age 19.

→ The plague reaches Vesuvia and begins its torrent. At age 20 Orelia begins her apprenticeship under Julian.

↓ At age 21, she contracts the plague and dies. Asra revives her months after discovering her death

Few headcanons about her:

Her first and middle name together means "Golden light". She was born during a sunshower

Multilingual (Fluent in about 3-4 languages, before her memory loss)

Adores scenic views.

She is musically inclined and knows how to play several instruments. Her father taught her how to sing and play the harp and bass flute. However, her favorite instruments are the djembe and the zither.

She always wears her necklace no matter what. It belonged to her late mother (it looks like the Ethiopian Orthodox Cross, google image link here)

She is a fast learner

She hates asking people for favors. Rather than pride, she fears to be burdensome to others.

Super fastidious about hygiene + skincare. She has sensitive skin which is reactive depending on the environment. She uses products such as; Aloe Vera, Oils, Tigerlily Balm, and Shea Butter (Sometimes even the products Nadia gives to her). Always moisturized✨

Sugar and Ice Personality: Stoic upon meeting with a saccharine essence once she warms up to others.

Was not very close with her Half-Aunt, Desdemona, until her adolescence and young adult years.

Knows healing and solar-based magic, as well as divination.

Her magic abilities were “gifted” to her by her Half-Aunt, Desdemona.

Orelia didn’t really want it and was indifferent to magic. However, she began using magic after inheriting the shop. She lessens her use of magic slowly after the end of the game

Can dance well, but is shy about it.

With that in mind, she’s very flexible.

Loves limericks, especially when drunk (She isn’t much of a drinker, so that is a rare sight).

Was inspired to be a plague doctor, in reverence of her late mother.

Valerius is the only member of the Court she feels comfortable with. The rest frightens her.

She wakes up before sunrise without fail, even when staying up late.

Greatly resembles her mother.

After her abduction, she is hypervigilant of her surroundings.

Seldomly smokes weed. If she has the time or is in the mood she’ll roll a joint

Was counted as one of “Vesuvia’s 12 Beauties” in a column of the Vesuvia Daily News. She didn’t care. Was mainly confused since she isn’t Vesuvian

Does end up going back to Elgonia for some time after regaining her memories (with the help of Julian of course!). She reunites with her dad and brothers♥

#fan apprentice #my apprentice #my oc #nix hydra #oc introduction #Orelia #Orelia F. Soranzo #picrew #the arcana #the arcana apprentice #the arcana game #Orelia's memories #Larion Soranzo #desdemona #Nardos of Ezana #Cyril #headcanons

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axwalker · 4 years

Text

The Trade 7

Synopsis: Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel? (AU)

Pairings: LiamxMC DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it.

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback. Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien). I also used a line from Grey’s Anatomy that really made me think about Drake.

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld for being my incredible beta reader and always being there to answer my questions and her support, to @burnsoslow for helping with the first part of this episode, it was very difficult to write. and to @mskaneko for the beautiful edit of Drake and Alexis in the mood-board (I can’t stop looking at it) ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I'm only tagging those who asked if you want to be tagged, I will be happy to add you to the list

@mskaneko @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @burnsoslow @pug-bitch @pedudley @msjr0119 @lauzales @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @desiree-0816

The debutant’s ball was all Sienna O’Brien could think about. She adored her granddaughter and was absolutely proud to present her to her high society friends. Alexis was a smart, poised and beautiful young woman; Sienna couldn’t understand why her son had been adamant to send her to that French boarding school. The old woman admired how the sunny fifteen-year-old girl managed to make everyone around her happy. It was a miracle considering her father’s coldness and her mother’s inattention. Sienna knew that deep down, Elena loved her daughter but after years of living with George, she had become a ghost of herself, always drunk or heavily medicated. It all broke her heart, so when George took some interest in Alexis’ date to the ball, the old woman felt almost happy thinking that her son might love his daughter after all. They had finally agreed that she was going to be escorted by Bradford Davenport III, the son of a wealthy and renowned businessman. Alexis couldn’t believe her luck, Brad was extremely handsome and, even if she didn’t go to his school, she knew he was the most popular boy there; that all the girls at the cotillion wanted to be escorted by him. According to her grandmother, he was a true gentleman; the heir of a very good family. Even her father was pleased with the choice. The young girl had learned a long time ago not to seek his approval, but she was thrilled to get it when she could. As the date of the ball approached, Alexis was so excited about it that she had tried her white gown a hundred times and rehearsed more different hairstyles that she would ever admit. She felt like a princess.

Finally, the day had arrived. It had started as a dream. Brad was certainly good-looking and could dance perfectly, spinning her all over the dancefloor while he made her laugh. He took care of her, making sure she always had something to drink and he didn’t leave her side for a second. The adults left the ball early so he promised her father that he would drive her before 1 o’clock. Alexis was feeling too drunk, so she asked him to take her home at midnight. They hopped in the backseat of the car, so she could recover a little before getting back. Brad gave her a soft kiss that made Alexis feel like she was floating. Emboldened by her response he kissed her again, harder this time. Then he went further and grabbed her by her waist knowing that she was almost out of it after all the alcohol he had given her. Brad was convinced that she desired it as much as he did. After a few seconds of kissing her she started to resist him, she didn’t want this, her first time had to be special, not in the backseat of a car. Alexis could smell the alcohol in his breath, feel his sweat, and his hands everywhere. She tried to fight against him, but she wasn’t a match for him. He didn’t want to listen to her cries or see her tears. He ripped her dress and after he took what he wanted, he drove her home."

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Alexis had woken up happy and excited. The moment she had spent with Drake gazing the stars had been incredible. He was all she had imagined, behind that brooding and strong façade hid a sensitive man and she couldn’t deny any longer the indescribable power he had over her. She shivered remembering his touch when he held her hand and the warmth emanating from his body when he had hugged her after she had almost fallen.

It had been the first time in her life that she had felt completely safe.

Suddenly, she thought about Liam, and a pang of overwhelming guilt replaced the excitement. Alexis knew what a good man he was, but now she was sure she would never love him back. Maybe Liam’s interest in her was simple infatuation, but she didn’t want to make him suffer. The seed of a solution started to grow in her mind, it was a long shot but maybe if she asked him for help, he would do it. She would have to arrange a meeting and make him understand that it was in his own son’s best interest.

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Constantine decided to wait for George’s daughter in the breakfast room.

“Good Morning, Alexis.” He smiled politely pointing to the seat across the table so she’d sit. “How can I help you?”

“I need to ask you for something” She didn’t have the energy to be polite anymore. “It’s not for me, it’s for your own son, but maybe this is not the best place to talk.” She paused looking around her

“Don’t worry, the staff won’t bother us. I ordered them to leave us alone when you called.”

“I wanted to talk about Liam, about what you and my father are trying to make me do to him.” She sighed trying to compose herself. “Please Constantine, think about your son. He’s an amazing man, he deserves a woman who loves him. I’m not, or never will be, that woman.” She stopped talking to gauge his reaction. “I know you made a deal with my father but I’m sure you can continue without me. If you tell him you don’t need me, he will let me go-”

He interrupted her smirking “Oh, but I do need you, Alexis. First, because as you can see the press is already starting to associate the two of you as a couple.” He showed her the paper he was reading with pictures of her and Liam at the Masquerade ball and paparazzi’s photos of their date at the Mexican restaurant. “That was brilliant by the way, taking him to such a poor place, they’re presenting him as the people’s candidate.” She rolled her eyes as he continued, “but I’m digressing. I also need you as a guarantee that your father will complete his part of the bargain.”

She couldn’t help but snicker at him. “If you are thinking to use me as leverage, you’re sorely mistaken, Constantine. You can be sure, that if my father thinks is in his best interest to throw me under a bus, he would be driving that bus himself. Having me does not give you any advantage.”

“I’m not going to discuss this any further with you. If you’re having doubts about my son because is too soon just give it time” He stood behind Alexis putting his hands on her bare shoulders. She shuddered at the contact. “However, if it’s because there’s someone else, that could be dangerous for everyone involved. I hope you fully understand me.”

She realized how stupid she had been to believe Constantine would help her. “Yes, I do. Perfectly.” After that, she left the room, leaving the ex-president alone. He picked up the phone and called his associate number.

“George, we have a problem. I need you to control your daughter”

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Since he had met Alexis O’Brien, Liam had been feeling like a 15-year-old teenager again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her day and night, and he was really excited to start working with her on the campaign. He had read all the articles she had wrote and they had fascinated him even more.

With his heart threatening to go out of his chest, he heard the soft knock on the door and opened it.

“Hi Alexis, please, come on in.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She sat in the chair across from him. “Are you ready for me to pick your brain?”

He smiled gently “Of course. What do you need?”

She ran her hand through her hair “Well, I’d like to know more about your motivations as a candidate, about what drives you. A good speech has to reflect your personality above everything else. If it feels fake, you’ll lose the public’s trust immediately.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s see, when we met, I told you that it wasn’t until I became senator that I truly understood the value of politics” She nodded “For the campaign, I had to visit all these neighborhoods that I didn’t even know existed before. I had the chance to see real people facing problems that were completely alien to me” He sighed “There was this school we visited. There were 45 children in a class with only one teacher, and the conditions weren’t the best either: no computers, the state of the desks and chairs were deplorable, the teachers seemed completely overwhelmed by the whole situation. They were teaching, but they didn’t believe they could actually help these kids anymore” He paused again thinking “Here I was, this privileged man thinking he was living in a great country, one that gave everyone the same opportunities to go far in life, but actually ignoring everything about the people he wanted to rule. That day was the day I knew I wanted to make a change. Starting with the reform of the education’s program of Cordonia”

Alexis looked at him impressed. His passion was contagious, he had a real desire to make things better, to help others, and to improve his country. He would be an outstanding president.

“Let’s start with the anecdote and then we will move forward to explaining your education reform.” She smiled.

After a few hours exchanging ideas, they had finally written a speech draft they were equally satisfied with. They were both tired, but Liam didn’t want their time together to end so fast.

“How about we take a break before the ball?” He stood up and walk around the desk to sit on it, in front of Alexis’ chair.

Remembering the earlier conversation with Constantine, she answered trying to seem joyful “Sure! What do you have in mind?”

“There’s this amazing terrace in my room, maybe we can have a few drinks there, the view is incredible.”

Alexis' eyebrows almost touched her scalp. “Your room?”

“Hey, I’m a gentleman” He winked. “If you want me to be one of course.”

She let out a hearty laugh that almost made his heart stop. “Aren’t you smooth?” She sighed amused “Let’s go have that drink.”

Liam smiled relieved “Just give me five minutes, I have to make a call.”

Fifteen minutes later, they entered the room to access the terrace. It was magnificent. The beautiful panoramic was breathtaking, they could see the huge snowy Lythiko’s mountains, the shimmering lake that surrounded Olivia’s property, the hundreds of pines that seemed to have been planted in the snow, the wooden cabins all around the place. It felt like a Christmas fairytale. And the terrace was incredible too. Awfully sunny even in the wintery day, spacious, and luxuriously decorated. It had an outdoor couch full of beautiful cushions, and the small table in front of it was set with a rose’s bouquet, some candles, and a bucket containing a freezing bottle of champagne.

Alexis was in awe at the view. “Wow, Li. It is amazing”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Now you see why I wanted to share it with someone.” He stood close to her, brushing her hand with his thumb

“And all of this?” She pointed at the table “You were with me the whole time”

“I have my ways,” he said grinning “and I wanted this to be magical for us”

They sat on the couch.

“You didn’t tell me if you liked it” He was looking softly at her

“Liam…” Touched by the gesture, she wasn’t sure how to answer “It’s very nice. I love red roses”

“I have to be honest with you Alexis. I’ve never really had someone I wanted so badly to please. I feel like I would do anything to make you smile and know that I am the cause”

Another pang of guilt in Alexis’ chest almost made her jump “Liam…”

He blushed “Ahem, anyway, what if we open this bottle of champagne”

After uncorking it and pouring two glasses, they toasted.

“To a great life” He clinked her glass without taking his eyes off her.

“To a great life” She repeated smiling and drank “This is so good Liam; I love it”

“There are few things better in life than a good bottle of champagne shared in good company” He took one of Alexis’ hands and kissed her palm “Alexis, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment the entire trip”

She smiled at him, unsure of how to behave, torn between her task of making him love her and her reluctance to hurt him.

Liam put his drink at the table and turned to watch her “You make me want so many things, things I never wanted before. I want to be careful with you, I’d hate to hurt you in any way”

“Don’t worry about me, Liam. I will be fine. I know what I’m getting myself into. Besides, you’re the model of a good person” Even if she was certain that her heart wasn’t hers to give anymore, she sincerely liked him and knew that if she hadn’t met Drake before, she would have fallen for Liam.

He caressed her cheek “If I’m not, I hope I will be, for you. You inspire me to be a better man”

He leaned to kiss her when the room’s phone rang.

“Well, if that’s not bad timing” He smiled taking her chin between his fingers “I do not know what is. “Wait here, love”

She waited a while but when it became evident that the call was going to last more than a few minutes, Alexis went into the room and waved her hand to say good-bye. They would see each other at the ball.

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Kiara left her lover’s room as quietly as she could. Even if she was perfectly aware that Rashad couldn’t care less who she was sleeping with, and if It had been months since the last time he had touched her, she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, face the scandal. She had too much to lose.

Rashad was also very careful when he left the room at the end of the hall that afternoon, if Kiara or her family knew who he had been sleeping with, he will lose everything.

They almost crashed into each other in the hall.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” And with last night’s clothes.

Kiara looked angrily at him “I… I don’t want to lie anymore Rashad. If you’re so interested in my life you should come to my bed more often. If you can’t do that, we’ll continue our relationship because that’s what’s best for us, but we will lead separate lives. I’ll go prepare for the ball, we have to arrive together. See you at 7 at my door”

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Olivia was more than content with the result of Max’s and Penelope’s work. With a bit of luck, they would be able to attract the most prominent men in Lythikos and make them contribute to Liam’s campaign. She sighed when she saw Drake arriving without a bow tie.

“God Walker! Couldn’t you make a fucking effort and dress properly for this?” She rolled her eyes, giving him his accustomed glass of whiskey “If he wins, you’re going to be the new Chief of staff”

Drake chuckled “Ha! If Liam chose me for my fashion sense, he’s gonna be in a lot of trouble”

“I think it will always be a mystery for all of us why he chose you,” she answered teasingly. “By the way, as you can’t behave like an adult around that toad Neville, and Kiara bores you to death, I seated you with Hana Lee and the new ‘speechwriter’” She almost spits the last word

“I can tell you really like her, Livvie” He smirked at her and then added more seriously “Be careful with her though” he looked pointedly at her “she’s…not bad”

Her eyes narrowed to slits “Why are you protecting her? And what have I told you about calling me that?” She arched her brows “Do you want everyone to know your nickname? Little marsh-“

“Shut up, Olivia. I’ll go find my seat” He watched her knowingly and pointed his index at her “And you better behave”

Drake was nervous to see Alexis again but with Hana acting as an unknowing buffer, the diner had gone smoothly. After it, the girls had stood up to dance, so he moved to his favorite spot at the bar and watched the dancefloor, his eyes irremediably going to her. He wasn’t disappointed at the sight; she was dancing like a goddess in Maxwell’s arms. Iit made his heart swell to see her smiling and laughing freely. Sometimes he got the feeling that there was something haunting her; some dark secret that prevented her from being truly happy.

He saw his best friend take a stool next to him, then look around the dance floor until he found her too. The goofy smile on his face while he watched her move let no doubt about Liam’s feelings. The waiter gave Liam a glass of scotch that he downed in one gulp.

“I’m falling hard for that woman,” he told Drake, nodding in Alexis' direction.

Drake’s heart literally stopped at Liam’s words, in almost 23 years of friendship, it was the first time Drake wanted the same thing that Liam did.

He sighed before answering “I know”

“Do you think she feels the same?” Liam smiled sheepishly

Drake knew that any other woman in Cordonia would have fallen instantly in love with the rich and promising candidate but he wasn’t so sure about O’Brien. In all the moments they had shared together, even the one where she had rejected him, he had felt something strong brewing between them, something he couldn’t quite define.

He exhaled. “I have no idea, Liam. I think she’s very closed-off.” Then remembering that morning’s newspaper, he added unhappily, “but she seemed to be having fun with you in those pictures.”

“Yes, my father had us followed. I was very angry at first but as he pointed out, it all turned out well.”

Drake growled. “What do you mean it turned out well? They followed you, took pictures of you… of her, of a private moment. Doesn’t it drive you crazy that your father is trying to use Alexis like that? Like she’s a pretty object that he can use for your advantage?” Drake knew he had sounded angrier than he had intended.

Liam stared at his best friend coolly. “I don’t understand why are you angry Drake; you know perfectly how a campaign works. You know I was trying to find someone to help me boost my image. I would’ve thought you were happy that I found someone that I actually like,” he paused, “that I’m starting to love.”

Drake knew Liam was right, his biggest fear since he had entered the campaign had been to live trapped in a loveless marriage, it looked like he was going to be able to avoid it, and as his best friend, he should be happy about it.

Before answering, Drake allowed himself to look at her one last time “I apologize Li. I’m actually happy for you.” Trying to hide the pain he was inexplicably feeling he stood up patting his friend in the back, “you deserve the best and she seems… incredible.”

“Thanks, Drake, I know you only want what’s best for me.” Liam was grinning again

“Of course, Liam.” Drake felt a sudden urge to breathe fresh air. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Without waiting for Liam’s answer, Drake left the ballroom.

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Alexis was dancing with Maxwell again, but despite the fact that he was trying to be as joking and chatty as usual she could see that something was tormenting him. It killed Alexis how hard he was trying to hide his misery, so she finally grabbed him by his hand, stole a bottle of champagne from the bar, and took him out of the ballroom into the library.

“Ok Max, you’re gonna tell me exactly what is going on,” She said passing him the bottle after drinking from it.

“What do you mean Lexie? I’m fine, just a little tired. I’m sorry if I’m not a lot of fun tonight, though.”

“Maxwell! You’re under no obligation to be fun and sparkly all the time. And you certainly don’t need to apologize for having a night off. I only brought you here because I thought that you might want to talk to someone.”

Max sighed sadly “Remember when I told you yesterday that I was sort of in a relationship?”

She nodded

“Well... I’m not anymore”

“Aw Max I’m so sorry,” she said hugging him “I remember how happy you were. Are you sure it is final?”

“Actually, is not. I can even bet that he will be calling me tonight to patch things over but,” He took a large sip of champagne, “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“What do you mean Max?”

“People see me like this immature boy, but the truth is that I’m proud of myself. I came out when I was sixteen, and I’ve never looked back, but now here I am 12 years later struggling in a relationship with a man that can’t accept himself” he sounded almost angry “I love him but I just can’t do this any longer”

“If you love him and he loves you back, and I can’t imagine him not to” she smiled at him “Maybe you should give him some time. Not all of us are as comfortable with ourselves as you are, Max. If he comes from a more traditional family than yours, then he needs love and support to take that step. I know it’s not fair. How long have you been together?”

“Uh, almost a year” He drank again.

She put her arms around him “Maybe you can give him a deadline, like six more months, a little time to think. If he doesn’t do it, then you’ll probably have to move on; But at least you’ll know that you did everything that you could”

Max nodded pensively “Yes, I’ll talk to him tonight. Thank you, blossom, you’re the best” He hugged her, then offered her his arm “Want to be my lady for the rest of the evening?”

“Go on without me and find him. I’ll take a tour through Lythikos mansion, it seems fascinating”

“Ok, but don’t get lost” He shuddered a little scared “The Nevrakis love secret passages”

She winked at him “Don’t worry. I will”

She started walking, lost in her thoughts until she saw a light at the end of the corridor. She approached it to discover a spiraling staircase. Without thinking it twice, she climbed it down and found a cellar at the end of it. Her heart missed a beat when she saw Drake sitting there, looking at an empty glass.

He looked up when she entered, his heart missing a beat as well. “First the snow and now here, I’m starting to think that you’re stalking me, O’Brien”

“You wish Walker.” She arched her brow smirking “Drinking alone?”

“I needed to get out of that ballroom for a second”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Can I sit?” She asked, smiling.

-God that smile is going to be the death of me- He moved to let her seat next to him on the floor, immediately drunk with her scent.

“What are you having?”

“Nothing yet. Olivia has a very extensive collection of fine Cordonian wines, nothing here is under a thousand dollars”

“You want to drink Olivia’s wine?” She added playfully “I thought you were more of a whiskey guy, Drake.”

They both looked at each other thinking about the night they had met, an electric tension starting to grow.

Drake broke the stare clearing his throat “Ahem, I brought this bottle of Dalwhinnie, here, taste it” he poured her a glass.

She licked her lips before taking the glass to her mouth savoring the sour smell of the beverage. It took all of Drake’s willpower not to throw the glass away and kiss those full lips until she couldn’t breathe anymore.

“So?” He asked arching a brow, trying to hide his thoughts.

“Delicious.” She gazed at him thoroughly “Care to tell me why did you want to get out? “

There was no way in hell that Drake was going to tell her the real reason “I wanted to be alone in a place where I don’t have to bow and kiss ass for five minutes. It’s fucking exhausting trying to get all those rich bastards to donate to Liam’s campaign.”

“Please Drake, tell me what you really think,” She said playfully.

He snickered and the wrinkles around his eyes made him look so handsome when he smiled that she couldn’t stop herself from carefully putting her hand in his arm, savoring the electricity that immediately passed between them. “Seriously though, if you hate politics so much, why do you stick around?”

He looked at her cautiously, her opinion mattered to him much more than anyone else’s “It must seem ridiculous to you.”

She stared at him. “No, it’s not ridiculous, Drake. I’m just trying to understand why a brilliant man as yourself is wasting his life doing something he so clearly hates.”

“It’s for Liam, it has always been for him. I would’ve left a long time ago, but Liam needs me. Growing with Constantine was especially hard for me and Olivia. My sister was so obedient that he never had to complain about her, and Leo and Liam were his sons. But the old man was very hard on them too. Eventually, Li, Liv and I became very close and we swore we would always protect each other”

Alexis looked at him with piercing eyes, biting her bottom lip, clearly wanting to say something.

He stared at her amused. “I know you’re dying to say something O’Briens. Spill it”

“Well, it seems to me that you and Olivia do all the protecting” When she saw he was about to protest, she added “Don’t get me wrong, Li is a very good and caring man. It’s just that I have the feeling that you were raised to move around him like he was the sun. And now, you’re stuck in that role. But you’re an extraordinary man, handsome, brilliant and funny. He’s not the sun Drake. You are” She blushed to realize she had said much more than she had intended.

Her words melted all of Drake’s resolutions to keep her at arm’s length, he reached her face with his thumb stroking first her cheek, then her nose and mouth, his heart threatening to go out of his chest as he looked her bright eyes and that smile he had learned to adore.

He approached her gently, pulling her to him with his left arm. Suddenly Drake felt her hands around his neck; he heard her breathing accelerate and he smelled her cherry fragrance. He stopped to inhale it and savor every single second. His eyes fixed the mouth that was driving him slowly crazy and kissed a corner of it, making Alexis softly moan, he smiled to himself and kissed the other corner, producing another tender moan. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and crashed his mouth with hers, trying to convey everything with a single kiss. He kissed her with all the passion, the desperation, and the pain he was feeling, he kissed her knowing that it would be the last time. After a while, the need for air made them break the kiss, and the spell was broken.

“I’m sorry Drake.” She struggled to breathe normally again. “I don’t know what we were thinking, we can’t do this anymore. “I- I should go.”

He stood up first, giving her his hand to pull her up.

“I know Lexie,” he said softly. “I know we can’t. I just needed one more time” He caressed her face with the back of his hand “Come on, we have to go back to the ball, everyone must be looking for you.”

“You go first, my father is waiting for me at the office Olivia lend him.”

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George knew that her daughter’s secret was the only means he had to control her. He had lost all of her respect after that debutant’s ball ten years ago and the truth was, he didn’t care. His daughter only existed to remind him about the worst mistake of his life. As he poured brandy into his old associate’s son glass, he congratulated himself. Calling him had been the right move. After seeing him, Alexis wouldn’t have any other choice, but to do what she was told.

At 9 pm sharp, his daughter knocked on the door. Alexis entered the office where his father was talking to another man turning his back at her.

“Good evening, Alexis. I called you because there is an old friend of yours visiting Cordonia, and I thought you would enjoy reminiscing; he’ll be staying here with us.”

The man turned and Alexis couldn’t believe her eyes. Even if she was aware that her father didn’t have any limits and that he would do anything to assure her cooperation, she didn’t want to believe he would go that far.

However, there was no denying it. Bradford Davenport, her abuser, was standing in front of her, his obnoxious hand reaching hers. She jerked away stupefied. The hatred was consuming her entirely. She looked at one then the other contemptuously.

“I will never, hear me, well father. Never sleep under the same roof that this excuse of a human being”

“Always so dramatic. Bradford is an associate and a friend; I couldn’t care less of your little teenage romance”

Maybe it was the fact that her father has referred to the second most horrible experience of her life as a “teenage romance” but Alexis was so filled with rage that the next thing she knew she was slapping Brad.

His father was furious. “Alexis, apologize, now!”

She turned around slamming the door after her and ran to the garden.

When she was sure that they couldn’t see her any longer, she fell into the grass and the tears started to come. All the old feelings resurfaced: the shame of the next day, the acute pain, nausea, the deep sadness that would become depression, the sensation of being dirty all the time. In a few minutes, the tears had muted into gut-wrenching sobs, until suddenly she felt his presence standing a few inches of her.

“O’Brien?” in two steps he was on his knees next to her caressing her hair “God! What’s going on?”

As she continued to cry Drake took her in his arms and rocked her. “Oh, Lexie, baby, please tell me what happened”

Suddenly she knew there was only one thing that would make her feel safe again.

“Please, Drake, take me far away from all of this. I just can’t take it. I know I can’t”

Drake looked at the damaged woman before him and his heart broke. He stood up determined.

“Come on, I know where we can go”

#tw rape #tw noncon

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