#everyone is grey - there is no good or bad choices

[pinkyjulien]

Learning that apparently people hate Reed is so wild to me

He reminds me a lot of Goro, in a way? Surface level reading here; they're both corporate tools who uses V as an asset to get what they want, what they need (the relic for Goro, So Mi for Reed) to appease whoever is holding their leash, they both live for their ""boss"" (Arasaka for Goro, Government for Reed) that's their whole purpose

Reed strikes me more of a lone-wolf, he has more "freedom" than Goro (who rushes back to Hanako as soon as V saves him from death after the parade, rushes back to his cyberware and to his ""home"")

They're great characters, their writings is amazing- they show a lot of nuance and humanity when you dig pass their blind automatic loyalty and cold armor

Knowing how overwhelmingly loved Goro is, I always assumed it was the same for Reed, because again, to me, they're really similar (and yet so different) but can't say I'm surprised gfhhgf

[espectres]

so tempted to add npcs. extensive ramble in the tags.

[beetlejuicyy]

criston cole is such a female-experience coded character and it is exactly why he is hated so much hear me out

his whole character is built around the idea that rhaenyra seduced him, had taken his dignity and made him feel like her whore. his vow and his duty are close enough to the idea of women's purity and value. you were sullied, you have to marry the man that devalued you, otherwise you are spoiled and unworthy.

on top of that, his identity as a knight, as kingsguard means he is submissive. he is not seen having a lot of opinions or plans to how things are done, the big guys in the council decide and he has to obey to their orders.

on top of that, when he does act at last, it's portrayed in the form of scheming, behind the backs of people, and it's mostly attributed to his sentimental nature, to his inability to think straight, be logical because of his personal feelings. that's how women have been portrayed for centuries.

another thing that makes his character harder to grasp is the choice to have the same actor play the pre-timeskip and past-timeskip criston. 20 years have passed and yet people see him as the same person who refused to be rhaenyra's whore but now he is hypocritical because he is alicent's whore. 20 years have passed and, even if you can't see it on his face, he's bound to have changed too.

in his relationship with alicent he doesn't talk as much. he is obedient, she's the one in charge. she gets to say when and how things happen, he is just at her service.

his entire character is build up to revolve around rhenyra, like women's lives are supposed to revolve around men. if he refuses to acknowledge his status in his youth he is no longer allowed to later (after 20 years mind you) find some sort of comfort in another master. it's like saying "if you say you hate the system why take part in it"?

his pent up rage and hatred is evil, because what happened to him was behind closed doors where no one saw or heard of it. because if they knew of it he would lose everything, exactly the way women have often refrained from talking about their condition in fear of being villainized themselves. in the meantime, the one in power will keep their dignity and spotless reputation like rhaenyra is not even held accountable for having bastards pushed forward as heirs, not to mention the fling she had with criston.

this rant is in no way trying to portray criston cole as a saint or a good guy or trying to justify his behaviour. this is actually the problem with hotd, the effort to draw a line between the good guys and bad guys. have it be either balck or white. it's not, it can't be. you either have complex, morally grey characters with flaws and mistakes or you go watch marvel or something. even there villains are more humanized than in this petty effort of righteousness.

LE: thank you everyone who mentioned the aspect of criston being a man of colour from dorne and the power dynamic between a royal and a lower born who fought his way into the world! this rant was written in a rush and while i couldn't express the latter as eloquently as most of you in the tags/comments, i completely overlooked the former. i love looking through everyone's tags and comments and seeing your takes. as @jazzyclarinet pointed out in the comments, seeing criston's character in this light does not erase or diminish the injustice other women in the story experience.

on another note, i feel like part of the blame is on the way hbo marketed the season with the pressure to pick a side. however, i think what we've been lacking as a society in the post covid years is actual unbiased analysis of art. swallowing up content without any question and making said content a personality trait is harmful. as i said, i don't like criston as a character, but i can make these points about him simply because i watch the show critically and i don't blindly defend a character while trashing another.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

I Need You

The TWST Cast's reaction, (under the preamble), when you tell them you're going home (assuming close platonic relationships, and reader having expressed uncertainty of wanting to return home at some point prior to this/has underlying doubts that they would be missed if they did leave) May be a little OOC sorry, and there are inconsistencies but it's not bad, still, sorry

Approx. 7.6k words, but separated by character so feel free to just read the character you want lmao (unless it's Malleus, sorry) ----------------------------------------------------- You had expected to happy. Overjoyed, excited, if and when the headmage finally told you he had found a way for you to return home, now that you had 'seen your use' here in Twisted Wonderland. Of course, he was no monster, and in his abundant generousity allowed you to have your time to say good byes and collect your things before he would send you on your way. He seemed to take your pure shock as a positive thing, ushering you out of his office in glee as he had finally fulfilled his promise he made to you when you first arrived.

There was so much you wanted to say, to protest, but the headmage was adamant and quick, and the words swirled in your head. Had you really just been a tool for him? Had he summoned you in the first place merely to take care of issues he had an inclination would arise? Your feet had never felt more leaded, your heart had never felt so heavy, and breathing had never required this much effort. Why did it hurt so bad? You were going home. But it wasn't the place you had come from that was associated with that word anymore, instead it was Ramshackle, complete with three ghosts and a grey, cat-like creature sitting in front of it, waiting for you to return. You couldn't just leave, could you? At least when you'd been brought here, you hadn't been given a choice, it just... happened. You may not have been happy at first, but it wasn't like there was much waiting for you at home either, nothing you really felt was worth giving up the experiences you had here; good and bad as the memories had come, you had friends and....family here that you wouldn't give up for the world. But the headmage seemed to have his mind set on sending you home.

You hugged yourself, doubt forming nasty storms of thoughts you'd rather not have, wondering whether anyone here would miss you if you left, especially now that everyone's problems were well on their way to being solved. You knew you had contributed, but was this a job or were you friends? It was getting hard to tell. You realized you would rather just tell them you were going home...and if they wanted you around, they'd tell you, right?

You sought out your closest...who you thought was your closest friend, looking for comfort and their opinion, unable to meet their eyes as you quietly told them, "I'm going home."

Heartslaybul

Riddle It seemed so out of the blue. You had come over for tea as per usual, though more pensive than normal, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Your words hit Riddle like a truck, making him audibly gasp softly. He looked down into his tea, struggling to hold back tears as he ran his thumb over the small hump of the handle on his teacup, his reflection rippling from the tremble in his hands. After some silence and practiced, slow breathing, he spoke, though neither of you made eye contact. "If that is what you want....I support you wholeheartedly...though I must admit...you will be...dearly missed." He tried to hide the shakiness in his voice. You had always been so supportive of him, so eager to ensure he had a place and people to turn to when he needed them, if all you needed was support from him in this moment, he would provide it...even if it hurt him.

You looked up from your tea sadly, only to watch as fat tears rolled down Riddle's cheeks. You struggled to hold back your own tears as you reached across the table and offered your hand to him. He looked up at you at first in surprise, then took your hand and wiped the tears from his face with his other hand, rather hastily before laughing softly, though it sounded pained.

"My apologies...I do not wish to influence your decision in-"

You cut him off squeezing his hand gently as tears began streaming down your face, your voice quiet, but desperate.

"Please...just tell me to stay....or...or go."

You swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of what you would do if the redhead told you it was best if you left.

Teary, stormy grey eyes finally looked towards you, first in confusion, then in fondness and relief as he smiled a bit and tried to inject some authority into his voice.

"My word is law. As of this moment, rule 811 and is as follows." You looked up in confusion and anxiety - there were only 810 rules, and Riddle had made it clear that he never wished to amend them in anyway. His smile only grew softer as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently so as to try and comfort you, though a small laugh bubbled out of him.

"I was going to try and make it all official sounding...but the truth is I need you...so please...if it's my input that will make your decision, I implore you....stay with me."

You couldn't help the smile that bloomed, and the relieved laughter that left you as you wiped at your eyes a bit more as both you and Riddle stood up from the table, the boy opening his arms to you for a hug.

"You scared me there for a moment."

"I scared you? You practically informed me that this would be one of our last times together unless I convinced you to stay! I thought a rule may be more convincing than...just my begging but..." he trailed off, snuggling into you a bit more and holding you a little tighter. "It worked. That's all that matters to me."

Trey

You were sitting at the island in the Heartslaybul kitchen, just watching Trey bake. You told him you had something important to tell him, so he had tilted his head and told you he was listening. However, after telling him that you were headed home, he didn't so much as glance back at you; he had just continued measuring out cups of flour, leaving you feeling rather dejected and hurt.

"Did you hear me?"

Trey glanced over his shoulder a bit, continuing to work. "I did."

You were somewhat baffled that he didn't add anything, watching him in mildly offended disbelief.

"You have nothing to say on the matter?"

"I do. But I don't think you want to hear it." He moved to wash his hands in the sink, his side profile now visible to you, and disturbingly absent of any trace of sadness. If anything, he was wearing a small smirk. Did he really not care if you left? You were disgruntled, allowing a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke up.

"Well I do want to hear it."

At that, Trey turned and looked at you, his smile only getting a little bigger.

"You're not going home. Your heart's not in it. You're just echoing what you've been told because you think you have to go but you don't. The headmage can't force you to go home, so just say no thank you to him and let it be done with."

You sat in baffled silence for a moment before somewhat timidly asking, "Was it that clear I didn't want to go?"

Trey chuckled softly, returning to his work. "It was clear from the moment you walked in here you weren't happy about whatever you were going to try and tell me. Once I get these baked off, I'll come with you to the headmage. You're not going anywhere unless you want to, I promise."

Cater

You had texted him that you had something you wanted to tell him, but never in a million years did he think you meant you were leaving him.

He thought he had been in this position a million times before - you make a friend, you get their contact information, you fool around and then it's time to leave.

Only you were an actual...friend not an acquaintance. Not to mention, you could have moved to Atlantica and he was sure he could have found a way to keep in touch with you at the very least.

But you were going to leave this world. This pocket of space and time.

Cater rapidly blinked back tears and forced a cheery smile and an uncomfortable sounding laugh as he took your hand in his.

"Ok, haha, funny prank, now where are the cameras? Like, this is a bit, right, something you're gonna post on Magicam to start a trend?...it's a prank, right? Do you need a bigger reaction? I can give you a bigger reaction, we can do this take again, just tell me it's a prank." He bit his lip, fighting back tears as he squeezed both of your hands in his, emerald eyes desperately searching your face for any hint that this was meant to be a joke and nothing more. You knew how much you meant to him, you knew about the pattern he'd been forced to fall into, even if this was a bad joke, it was better than it being the truth.

You had to blink back your own tears, turning your face away from him a bit as a small sob left you and you closed the gap between the two of you in a hug, burying your face into him as you started to cry. He held you close and tightly, afraid that letting you go would mean letting you go forever as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check, sniffling.

"Do you really have to g-go?" He choked up over the word, shallow, panicked breathing not helping his emotions.

You sniffled and looked up at him, tears streaming down both of your faces at this point.

"Please don't go...not if it's making you this upset to leave...and you have a choice...please don't leave me" He begged you softly, waiting with bated breath for your decision.

You looked up at him tearfully, trying to smile as you made up your mind.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Those words alone were enough to bring Cater to his knees, his body giving out on him from the sheer amount of relief he felt knowing...he wouldn't be alone again. As long as you were around, he had someone to keep living for. You sat down on his bed, gently patting the mattress beside you as a silent invitation for him to join, but the most he could manage was a mumbled apology for getting your pants wet as he cried into your lap, too exhausted to pick himself up off the floor.

Deuce

It took a moment for him to process what you were saying. He had barely walked through the doors of Ramshackle at your request for him to come over, and now you were telling him you were leaving??

You had been waiting anxiously for his arrival, so before you even got through the niceties of thanking him for coming, you had kind of just blurted it out to him.

The shock was still running through his veins, so he also blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"But I already told my mom that you're coming for Thanksgiving next year!"

You both stared at each other in silence for a moment, before reality sunk in. You started laughing a little bit, but not without tears starting to well up.

"Well then I guess I've got to stick around until Thanksgiving."

Deuce didn't get the joking tone, tearing up, his bottom lip quivering a bit.

"So you're gonna go home after Thanksgiving? Why are you laughing, this isn't funny." He couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit as well, confused and upset at your reaction.

You shook your head and wiped your eyes a bit, smiling a bit "Well I mean...if I'm invited over for every Thanksgiving, I can't exactly go anywhere because skipping out would just be rude, wouldn't it?" In truth...the fact that he had gone so far as to plan at least a year in advance was enough to confirm that at least one person here wanted you to stay.

Deuce picked up on it now, beaming and tackling you in a tight hug, crushing you more than he intended to. You could feel the tears on his cheek still though as he spoke.

"You're invited to every Thanksgiving at my house from now until the end of time, okay?! You have to be there!"

Ace

It felt like the world stopped moving. He was just planning a prank to pull off on one of his upperclassmen, and was about to share his masterplan with you until he'd seen your face and made the mistake of asking what was wrong.

He just sat himself down next to you on the old Ramshackle couch, arms on his knees, his head down and pensive.

"So that's it? You're just going to up and leave?" You could sense there was more he wanted to say, but was biting his tongue for once, for your sake. His eyes were fixed on the uneven flooring beneath his feet, expression stern and unmoving as he tried to rationalize why you would want to leave.

You took in a sharp breath, trying to respond, but nothing came out.

Ace's brow furrowed in frustration, but tried to hide it by turning his face away.

"I thought you said you were happy here. Sure, things haven't been great, but I thought you had made peace with the fact Crowley is a lazy piece of shit that wasn't going to do anything to get you back where you came from. I thought...." His voice caught for a moment, his breath shaky. "....I thought you'd already decided to stay...because this is home now...I thought the friendships you've made here would be enough to keep you here since you never talk about the friends or family you had back....wherever you came from." He had to stand up at this point, pacing in front of you.

"You have people who care about you here, okay?! You gotta give us more than a days notice or so, don't we deserve that in the very least? Like at least give us time to throw you a party or something but more importantly, give us time to adjust to the idea that our friend is going to be out of our lives forever!" He took a few shaky breaths, panting a bit as he pushed his hair out of his face, trying not to let tears form. Not now. Not in front of you.

His words made you recoil slightly as you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I don't want to adjust to a life without you guys either!"

He looked at you dumbfounded and unamused.

"Then why the fuck are you leaving?"

It took you a moment to process, looking down a bit before responding.

".....I didn't know what I wanted until I heard the opposite of what I wanted...and...well I guess it's kinda dumb, but I think I needed to know that I would actually be missed."

Though you didn't see it, Ace's expression softened immediately. He sighed and sat back down next to you, hugging you tightly to him. "Yeah idiot, I, for one, would miss you a ton...I mean who else is gonna talk Riddle outta givin' me the collar?"

You couldn't help but snort a bit at that, making Ace grin. Thank the Sevens, this wouldn't be the last time he'd try to make you laugh.

Savanaclaw

Leona

You barging into his room wasn't exactly unheard of, rather, your footsteps had become a very comforting sound as they approached his bedroom. He had pretended to be asleep as he heard you coming this time, but just wanted to silently enjoy your company for a bit before "waking up".

Your announcement had him upright in the blink of an eye though, tail flicking in discontent behind him. He studied you for a mere moment before yawning and laying back down.

"If that's so, you better get over here. I demand at least one more nap together."

You didn't really know what to make of his reaction, curiosity over whether that was really "it" or not getting to you as you ventured closer to his bed. As soon as you were close enough, he yanked you close to him, making you yelp. He immediately maneuvered the two of you so that he could lay his head on your shoulder, effectively hiding his face from you...and keeping you somewhat pinned.

"Good luck leaving now herbivore...you're gonna miss this too much if you leave...and you'll no longer have a prince taking care of your every need...and-" He sounded almost like a child, pleading in his own way to be good enough for you to want to stay. If he couldn't be good enough at home, he wanted to know he would still have you.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair.

"Yeah you're right...I think I've gotten too used to this lifestyle to ever go back."

You could feel the tension leave his body as he pressed his head against your hand a little harder.

"Good. You're stuck with me forever."

You couldn't help but smile, any doubts you had melting away with those words alone.

Ruggie

You caught him off guard while he was on laundry duty for Leona, his back to you as silence so thick you could cut it filled the space between you two. Ruggie's ears were pressed flat against his head, his tail had stopped wagging, and for a moment, he didn't move, his hand gripping onto the useless piece of cloth in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but he turned to face you, looking over you for a moment.

"Y'know, usually in moments like this I quote my grandma..." You looked a bit confused, thrown off by where he was going with this as his tail started to wag the slightest bit.

"But I don't think she's got anything better than the kids at home do for this situation." He grins and covers his ears with his hands, tail wagging faster. "I didn't hear you so it doesn't count!"

Despite his playful demeanor, you could see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"Ruggie-" he immediately closed his eyes so he couldn't see your lips moving either, shaking his head as he tried to deny the news you'd given him.

"I...I can't hear you....please...just...if...if I can't hear you....I can pretend you're at Ramshackle...or somewhere else on Sage Island....I can...it'll be...." his rambling tapered off into soft, gaspy sobs, his hands falling away from his head, moving to hug himself instead. "If you leave...I can just pretend l-like you know how to get back....even..even if your world has no magic."

As soon as your arms wrapped around him, he was hugging you instead, burying his face into your neck and sobbing, his voice cracking as he asked softly, "This...this isn't a g-goodbye hug yet, right?"

"It's not a goodbye hug at all." You nuzzled into his hair a bit, causing him to relax in your hold.

"....do I have to prepare for a goodbye hug in my future?" You didn't have to think about it, shaking your head immediately, and causing him to cling onto you as if to convince himself you weren't going anywhere.

Jack

At your request, Jack had made the trip out to Ramshackle, rather happy that you wanted to see him - though he didn't want to admit it. However, his demeanor shifted as he saw you sitting rather dejectedly on the stairs outside of your dorm. He quickened his pace, before rather awkwardly sitting in front of you on the ground instead of beside you.

Upon checking in on you and receiving the news that you were to go home, his tail curled up beside him and his ears flattened, though he looked more pensive than anything.

"....do you want to go home?"

You looked at him, rather exhausted and rubbed your eye a bit. "I don't know anymore Jack and that's half the issue...I mean at the beginning of the year, yeah, that was what I wanted more than anything but now..." He watched your expression sadden a bit. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you stewed in your conflict and he tried to brainstorm a way to get you to stay without coming off as desperate.

"....you know....they say home is where the heart is..." He looked away a little awkwardly, feeling you silently ask for an explanation with your expression. "....so...if you can figure out where your heart lies....maybe it'll make your decision easier...but for me it's always laid with my family and I uh...consider you family too." He couldn't help but blush a bit at the admission, but felt a little guilty saying it out loud. Though you'd never really talked about your family at home, it wasn't fair to assume they weren't important to you, or to make you feel like you had to choose between one family and the other- if you felt the same way about him, or other friends at least.

His guilt faded as soon as he felt your cool hand against his cheek, a smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. His tail started wagging a mile a minute as your choice became clear, that you saw him the same way.

Octavinelle

Azul

He was grateful you had come to talk to him in his office. It was much easier to keep his composure between the two of you, though you didn't miss the way his expression darkened for a moment immediately after hearing the news.

You watched curiously as Azul fished a document out from his desk, raising it so as to hide his face as he began reading off of it.

"In the event that the Ramshackle prefect, (i.e Yuu), and any Ramshackle resident(s), excluding any ghosts, are to leave campus permanently before the year 20XX, this letter gives the recipient, (i.e Azul Ashengrotto, Owner of Mostro Lounge), permission to alter, upgrade, and otherwise renovate the Ramshackle dorm building in accordance with Sage Island's building and infrastructure laws and regulations in order to establish another restaurant on Night Raven College school grounds. Signed by Dire Crowley, Headmage of Night Raven College."

You stood there in silent disbelief at the sheer audacity he had, though in the silence that followed, you swore you heard a shaky sigh coming from behind the parchment.

"This would be so much easier if you had just decided I wasn't worth forgiving the first time I attempted to take over your dorm." He groaned softly, now hiding his face in folded arms against his desk as the letter from the headmage drifted to the floor.

"Oh so it's my fault for being nice that you can't take over what's been my home since I've gotten here?" Azul shook his head, sitting up, but rubbing his face with his hand, still adamant on not showing you his real emotions on the matter, before sighing and looking down, his voice wavering.

"....it's your fault that I need you as badly as I do....it's your fault that I've come to look forward to your daily visits...it's your fault that I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, and instead of thinking about how vile I am I remember the things you've said to me that make me smile...it's your fault that there's no way I could take over Ramshackle now that the place has sentimental value to me, as ridiculous as it seems to me, the memories we made far outweigh the economic benefits, and it's your fault I think of it that way."

He refused to look up, even as the soft tap of your shoes on the floor approached his desk, taking a seat across from him.

"I can take the blame for all that...but know that you're at fault too...because it's all your fault...that I'm staying here."

Jade

You had found him in the greenhouse, attending his beloved mushrooms when you dropped the boot on him. He debated for a moment, whether it would be worth it to make you eat one, or to put you to sleep, or otherwise incapacitate you for a short amount of time to give himself more time to process and enforce one of many long term plans he had to keep you here. He mulled over the possibilities rather numbly... in a world where had been taught ruthlessness and that only the fittest would survive, you had been that small sliver of mercy he'd come to love and appreciate. He thought he had done a fairly good job showing you what you meant to him as well, with a constant influx of shiny rocks he found on hikes, or petrified wood, or otherwise sharing his interests and listening to yours. He had shown you that he understood what you had taught him to be a little more comfortable with - vulnerability. So why were you trying to tear him apart now? Was this just another cruel lesson in fate?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to realize how long silence sat in the air after your announcement. He only snapped back to reality as your hands wrapped around him, your face against the back of his lab coat as you shuddered and sobbed.

"Please, Jade, if I go I'm gonna miss you, don't ignore me right now....please just...at least acknowledge I'll be gone."

He pulled your hands away from him gently, initially causing you more distress until he pulled you close to him again, your chest pressed against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. His hug was gentle, yet felt all-encompassing as he kept his voice low, as if he was afraid anyone else would hear, despite the two of you being the only ones around.

"I would miss you too. So if you must go, promise you'll spend one more day with me before you leave."

A relieved sob left you as you clung to him weakly.

"I can do you one better."

He smiled, rocking you gently side to side, glad that he wouldn't have to risk betraying your trust to keep you there with him.

Floyd

You caught him right after basketball practice, high on life from the endorphin rush he was on. You hated to potentially put a damper on his mood, but you needed him to know. However, he had just laughed off your announcement, trying to walk away from you.

"Floyd please, I need you to listen, I'm being serious."

Floyd stopped in his tracks, just sighing tiredly and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere."

"But the headmage finally-"

"NO!...Who gives a fuck what the headmage's done, he ain't done shit for you since you arrived, you worked your ass off, lived in a shitty little house, dealt with crazy magic users and barely got paid your worth! But through all that, y'stayed. Things are better now. Just...just stay 'nd enjoy it with the people who care 'bout'chya k? I ain't lettin' you go back until you've at least had a vacation, k? It's your turn to get a happy endin...and you can't lie to me and say that's back in whatever timeline you're from cuz....cuz you told me once that I make ya happy...." His expression had been manic and angry at first, but as his rant came to an end, he looked like he was close to tears.

You couldn't help and smile a tiny bit, moving to hug him, though he met you half way, and the two of you crumpled to the ground as he found ways to wrap around you that you didn't think were humanly possible...but it made you feel safe, secure as you nuzzled into him.

"Just stay ok...I'll talk to the headmage for ya...but don't leave me, ok?...I gotta see ya smile til your cheeks hurt one day."

Scarabia

Kalim

When you had let him know you were coming over, he had asked Jamil to set up a small platter for the two of you to share. At first, he had just whined a bit - why were you going back to Ramshackle so soon? You just got to his dorm, now you wanted to leave? You'd at least take some snacks with you, right?

You sighed a bit, before trying again.

"Kalim...the headmage...has found a way for me to go home home." There was a beat of silence between the two of you, before the boy became a sniveling mess across from you, quickly devolving into full blown bawling as he all but launched himself at you, hugging you around your waist as tears started to soak the fabric of your shirt. He was near incomprehensible, though the message was fairly clear in his sobbing that he wasn't ready to let you go, and he'd do anything to keep you with him.

Jamil

He was busy cooking in the kitchen, enjoying your company, though it was clear you had something on your mind. He didn't pry, but eventually it came out. He just kept working, glad that he had prepared for this day to come.

"Well if you want me to wish you well and see you off, then I suppose now's a good a time as any to say goodbye." He barely glanced over his shoulder, giving you a subtle nod. "Goodbye."

It stung more than you expected it to, but at least he had been decisive, and made it easier for you to walk away from everything. He watched as you got up from your seat and walked towards the door, looking rather sad. He sighed a bit, wiping his hands off on a cloth.

"Did you really think leaving was going to be that easy? You know too much about me. You're not going anywhere. Follow me."

The apparent switch up in attitude had you hopeful and curious as he led you to his room, unlocking the door, then unlocking a small drawer at his desk, pulling out papers, which at a glance, had your name on them.

"I figured since you've shut down any conversation of your personal life at home, the only reason you'd ever want to return would want to return there was because of the financial stability you may have had, and the idea of needing financial assistance was daunting or embarrassing, same with getting your citizenship and passport for Twisted Wonderland. But I've gone ahead and pulled a few strings and made deals with some of Kalim's aunties. Now....you've got a deed to a home once you graduate, you have health insurance, you have a citizenship from Scalding Sands, and a passport from Scalding Sands."

He stacked each wad of paper in your hands as he explained them, before looking rather smug and booping your nose.

"Of course, if you still plan to leave I could just hypnotize you."

Pomefiore

Vil

You had gone to him to his room, sat on his bed and just watched him paint his nails at his vanity. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you, but he had the time, so he waited until you told him yourself rather than pressing you. He could hear the way your breath trembled, uneven gasps for air that you tried to keep under control as he just shook his head.

"Do I really need to tell you how all this is going to play out?" His icy violet eyes locked onto your startled ones in the mirror, as you tried to wipe any evidence of crying away from your face. You were confused, and conflicted, making Vil's face soften just the smallest bit as he redirected his gaze and attention to his nails.

"You tell me you want to go. As your friend, I'll support you in what would make you happiest, though I'm not going to tell you what would make you happiest, that's for you to decide. You'll go back to Ramshackle, start packing your things, still second guessing yourself. It won't be until you're in front of the mirror and the gravity of the situation hits you that there's no way for you to come back that you'll finally tell Crowley you'd like to stay..."

He finally turns around to look you face to face.

"So skip the song and dance, come to terms with the fact you'd like to stay, and I'll speak to the headmage on your behalf to inform him you'll be staying as long as you damn well please."

He had more conviction in both his expression and tone than you had heard before, and you certainly hadn't heard him cuss in any meaning of the word. It only took a moment longer of searching his expression to see the emotion behind the mask he was wearing was fear.

You couldn't help but sniffle and rub at your eyes a bit, nodding and laughing through your tears a bit.

"You're right. You always are. Thank you."

Visible relief, though subtle, was clear on Vil's face, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Really now, did you think I was just going to let you walk out of my life like that? Absolutely not."

Rook

Rook had seen you leave the headmage's office looking incredibly upset, so moments later he fell into step beside you in silence. Without saying a word, the two of you headed in the direction of the woods, cutting through paths Rook had taught you to see until you reached a small clearing, a place Rook had shown you as his safe haven. The two of you had been laying silently on the grass, only broken by the sound of you beginning to cry as you confessed the reason you were upset.

He moved to hold you close immediately, letting you turn towards him as he gently rubbed your back and let you cry.

"Why are you letting this rest on you so heavily, mon trickster, when it's clear the thought of leaving is causing you so much distress...why would you want to go to the one place where I could not hope to follow you?"

He took your hand gently, placing it on his chest over his heart. "If you left, my heart may explode. You can feel it racing now....the thought of being without you may be too much for even me to handle...and you know I can take much more than I show." He bumped his head against yours lightly, not unlike a cat as he closed his eyes.

"Please...I can only handle so much heartache...stay where I can reach you..."

Epel

He ran into you quite literally, trying to make it back to Pomefiore after spell drive practice in time to avoid Vil's rant on punctuality. However, when he registered you were crying rather than laughing the impact off, he was worried he had hurt you more than he had gotten hurt himself, checking in on you anxiously until you let it spill.

His immediate reaction was like that of a toddler, a very determined expression as he just went "Nuh-uh."

It was enough to shock you out of both the pain you were in and to make you laugh a little incredulously, causing your tears to stop flowing for a moment.

"W...what?"

Epel's expression only deepened, though it was a little difficult to take him seriously.

"I said, nu-uh. You ain't goin' nowhere, not if I got anythin' t'say on the matter, y'hear? Your family's here, your friends are here an' the headmage can't do shit if y'up 'n' tell'm off for tryna send ya home just cuz it makes him feel better he finally kept a goddamn promise, no way, nu-uh, that ain't flyin' with me!" He huffed and grabbed your wrist gently.

"Now come on, you get to to be the one to tell Vil why I'm late."

Ignihyde

Idia

Usually, you would just sit in Idia's room, enjoying each other's company in silence as you did your own things. You had a keycard to his room, and he would get a chime in his headphones that let him know it was you coming in. To him, nothing was amiss as silence hung between the two of you for nearly two hours, though his headphone was slightly offset his ear in case you needed anything.

So when you all but whimpered "I can't do this anymore" his headphones all but flew off his head as he whirled around his chair to face you, confused and off put by your tone until you told him what was wrong.

He just paused, before a wide grin spread across his face, slightly manic.

"What you think I'd just let you leave? Just 'oh Idia, I can go home now so goodbye forever', you seriously think I'm going to let you walk away? You're my closest IRL friend, and I've....I've lost enough already, I'm not letting you make me loose again." He laughed, but it was pained as he pushed back his hair, trying to calm down and failing as he stood up and started pacing.

"You're....you can't be serious, right? You're just gonna leave? Did I do finally do something wrong? Wrong enough that you want to be sent to another timeline where I don't exist, where our friendship doesn't exist, like this was all for nothing?!" He stopped and looked at you, hurt and distressed, his voice shaky and small.

"....was it all for nothing?"

His intensity wasn't anything new, but it had never been directed at you specifically. The ends of his hair were flared up and tinted orange, but his expression was nothing but pleading until you burst into tears again, apologizing and promising you'd stay.

Ortho

He knew exactly why you'd been called into the headmage's office, and was waiting for you as you stepped out of the room, only to take your hand and drag you right back in, first, angry whirring leaving him, before he settled enough to say anything that you and the headmage could understand.

"How dare you! You can't make them feel like they don't have a choice, just because it gives you a sense of doing something right doesn't mean it is! You're gonna let them stay or I'm leaking the security cam footage of what you do in your office all day- then it'll really be confirmed that you're nothing but a useless pile of-"

"Ortho-"

His head whipped around at your warning tone, eyes wide. "What?....I was gonna say crap, not the other word."

You couldn't help the small chuckle that left you before Crowley spoke up.

"Now there's no need for all those threats Ortho-"

Ortho's attention whipped back to the headmage, and in the blink of an eye his face was directly in front of Dire's, uncomfortably close as two sets of slightly glowing yellow eyes focused on each other.

"Don't you even think about trying to send my sibling away again...or the security cam footage is going to be the least of your worries."

Diasomnia (sorry, Malleus and Lilia lovers this is the best I got rn)

Malleus

Nope. You've either read chapter 7, you're reading through chapter 7, or you will read chapter 7. Sorry, he's just as you'd expect him to be. (read as: I think writing this out will feel tedious and boring and I'll loose motivation in these last few characters because bro is the most predictable dude ever)

Lilia

It hadn't been difficult to find him - in fact, when you got to Ramshackle, he had helped himself to some rather questionable looking hot chocolate and was sitting on your couch, patting the space beside him, smiling a bit.

"From what I understand, you've got plenty to think about. They say all good things must come to an end, but if you're writing the story, why not add a few more chapters where you're happiest?"

Silver

You had found him napping under one of the trees on campus, surrounded by furry little friends as per usual. You made yourself at him, laying next to him with your head on his shoulder, just watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as you snuggled your friend for what felt like could be the last time. You weren't sure how much time had passed until a sharp inhale signaled he was waking up, snapping you out of your own dissociation. The familiar weight of you on his arm just made him give you a gentle squeeze as he woke up, softly greeting you, taking a moment to listen to his animal friends, then asking you what was wrong as he pulled you a little closer, turning towards you and placed his hand behind your head protectively.

Upon hearing what was bothering you, he shook his head a bit, and many of the critters that were around the two of you found ways to cuddle the both of you. With how much you were crying, it was only fair that they were concerned.

"Don't go home...clearly you're not happy...if the headmage is trying to force you to return home, tell him that you consider this world your home. Or Ramshackle...or Briar Valley...if you just say the word, I can ask fa- Lilia to start getting you a citizenship...then you'll not only be registered in Briar Valley...but we both know that Malleus would never let any of his citizens suffer either...and disobeying a direct order from fae royalty would put Crowley in a bad position." He hummed and pulled you a little closer. "Besides...without you, I'll only ever wake up to Sebek for the rest of my life...I adore him like a brother, but I admit I prefer your method of rousing me from slumber." It was subtle, but you could tell he tried to inject humour into his tone as he sighed deeply, but stayed tense until you gently played with his hair, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as you nodded and agreed - both to finding your place in this world permanently in Briar Valley...and as Silver's designated waker-upper.

Sebek

He had seen you while he was on his horse, excitedly riding over when he saw you wave, though as he got closer, your expression seemed less and less happy to see him. You wished he had waited until he was in front of you to ask what was wrong, but as you expected, as soon as he noticed something was amiss, his voice boomed across the field between the two of you, his poor horse startling some. It took him a moment to get control of his horse once more, before he managed to make it to you, hopping down and holding onto the reins tightly as he looked at you expectantly for an answer.

"WHAT DID THE HEADMAGE SAY TO YOU?!"

Both you and his poor horse flinched and startled, but Sebek scooped you up, mounting his horse easily with you in front of him, boxed in and secure in his arms as he was set and determined, heading towards the main school building, though when you looked back at his face, the trails of a few tears were clear on his cheeks.

"If the headmage's mind will not be changed, then we must inform Malleus. He will ensure you stay here with m- us. With us."

Extra (pretend you didn't say anything to him yet lol)

Grim

You had been sitting in Ramshackle for a while, the headmage's words eating away at you like acid, leaving you in a dissociative state on the couch. You were so out of it, so caught up in your feelings, that when Grim finally came home after messing around with some of the first years, you immediately felt your heart drop as he very gently, very concerned looking, put his paw on your arm, checking in on his favourite hench human.

"Y'look like you're gonna c- MYAH!" You couldn't help but pull the cat into your arms, your whole body curling around him as you cried softly into the bow on his back. He squirmed around, fighting to face you as he gently held your face in his paws, looking kinda mad. "Who made ya cry, huh?! Tell me and I'll light'em up! Nobody messes with my hench human!"

You couldn't help the half laugh, half sob that left you as you just gently bumped your head against Grim's.

"Nothing you have to worry about Grim...I'm just...um...I'm really glad to have you in my life." You offered him a small smile as he tilted his head, bumping you back softly as his tail swished curiously.

"I..I mean I am too, but that doesn't tell me why you're cryin'!" He rubbed his face against yours again, trying to dry your tears,

"The headmage was gonna try and send me home...but I'm not...I'm not going to do it." Grim looked shocked for a moment, before more aggressively snuggling against you, purring.

"Good...cuz even if you did go home, ya couldn't get rid of me that easily!...I'd come with you!"

You laughed softly, mostly in shock and shook your head. "There's no magic back home...or talking animals...I'm not sure that would be the best idea."

He looked sad for a moment, curling up in your hold more so you wouldn't see his face. "Yeah but...you're all I got...so anywhere you go, I'll go...no matter what.

-------------------------------------------------------- I hated this the longer I wrote it but it wasn't until I was like at Vil that I started to get unhappy so I decided to say fuck it and just stick to it anyways. Yes I've been procrastinating hw shut up. Love you.

[inkdragon1900]

The way each pov in the locked tomb series is from the view point of an unreliable narrator drives me crazy in the best way.

Gideon is an unreliable narrator because it’s so dependent on her first impression of a person. For instance Ianthe, Coronabeth, Palamedes and Camilla compared to everything we learn later. Even her viewing of Harrowhark feels so jarring compared to Harrow’s view of herself in htn. She also knows very little about necromancy so everything feels less like science and more like something out of her magazines.

Then we have Harrow. Who literally has gaslit herself and trying damn hard to gaslight the audience that the last book never happened. Everything is a lot less black and white compared to GTN but her shades of grey still feel muddy. her depression seeps through every interaction she has that by the time it switches back to Gideon’s pov I literally felt like I had whiplash.

in NTN we have the John chapters and Nona.

Nona for her part seems like she see’s everything in black and white but as we see her mentally mature instead of seeing just shades of grey she see’s everything in vivid color. She loves everyone the good and the bad. She’s an unreliable narrator in the sense that because she loves Cam, Pal, Phyrra and Corona in a black and white fashion in the beginning she does not acknowledge their flaws in their choices. It’s only when she’s emotionally matured that she can see everyone she loves for the three dimensional people they are.

John for his part is so unwilling to forgive that we see that it doesn’t stop at B.O.E or the trillionares it extends to the unwillingness to forgive himself for a situation that I genuinely think no one could have handled. He refuses to look at himself for what he is and what he was in that moment, a scared man with to much power. (Unlike the Lyctors who were quite on quote “playing with the reflection of stars in a puddle and thinking it’s space.” He’s thrown into space and rapid fire has to learn how to tread or die drowning.) He lies because he doesn’t want to appear insane or weak or horrible not realizing that by doing that he’s removing the sympathetic parts of himself. Like Mercy and Augustine said they most likely would have forgiven him if he had just told them he fucked up. His point of view is so similar to Gideons black and white thinking that it works so well contrasted with Nona’s pov.

I can’t freaking wait for Alecto

[coeurify]

perfect girl | ellie williams.

tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. word count 6.8k. proofread barely. part two here

ellie is the most known dealer on campus, and reader is a stuck up, bitchy, sorority girl. somehow ending up near each other at every party, despite constant fighting. this party is no different, at first

this is smut, 18+ only. included use of pet names, mean!ellie, mean!reader, name calling.. fingering r!receiving.. etc. its a bit filthy. i wrote when high

Honestly, you hated frat parties. The loud music, the humid air and noisy college students that all reaked of jungle juice and sweat. None of it appealed to you— you always left feeling dirty and with a headache. But being in the university’s biggest sorority meant it was sort of a needed appearance.

Even now, when you were stressed beyond belief over the three different exams on monday morning. You had still been dragged out by your sorority sisters with the promise of a great party.

It never was great though. Never.

Usually you found yourself shoo-ing off shirtless frat boys advances, cup in your hand that had a bit too much cheap vodka and too little juice. If you had to deal with these things, you may as well be tipsy enough for it.

Though, the alcohol never made you any less in control of yourself. Control was what you valued most, being able to easily keep yourself in check. Making sure your well taken care of clothes never crinkled, ensuring no piece of hair was out of place. This in turn usually meant you took the role of watching over your sorority sisters. Eyeing any boys who got too touchy when they were drunk, snapping at frat guys when they didn’t take a hint. cleaning their face of tears or sweat, reapplying their mascara or lip gloss when they couldn’t. Holding their drinks with your perfectly manicured hands when they needed to pee.

You didn’t judge them for how they acted, you knew they were just having fun. Sometimes you wish you could let go like that too, join in on their dances.. giggle loudly and flirt with boys with drunken courage. But you never did. You probably wouldn’t tonight, even when your friend Dina had taken the role of sober one of the group so you could try and have fun. You still just stood straight up and watched on.

You were untouchable, everyone knew it. You saw the way boys looked at you— like they were falling over themselves just for a chance you might talk to them. Girls whispered about you, whether it be good or bad.. you didn’t exactly care. You had been called a prissy bitch one too many times to truly give a shit what other twenty somethings had to say about your attitude. You enjoyed being something no one could reach. It made you feel powerful. You rarely gave anyone that wasn’t your friends the time of day at these things, and god did it drive people crazy.

You always positioned yourself somewhere like the drink table at every party, watching on as if it was a live show for you to consume. In some ways it was.. you were always a watcher, never involved. So looking on was usually your only source of fun at these things.

Tonight was no different— eyes steady on the large group of people dancing, more so falling over each other, in the center of the room. It was grossly humid, and the flashing lights hurt your eyes. Everyone was pressed too close together— far too big of a crowd for this tiny off campus fraternity.

You found a more open place between the scratchy and old couch and the pop up plastic table. It held half empty bottles and a punch bowl full of some concoction that made you shake your head at girls when they tried to take a cup.

You stand stiffly against the wall— refusing to sit, let alone lean against the couch next to you. You didn't even want to imagine how disgusting it was.. swearing it was a lighter shade of grey last time you were here. This choice of station however was opening yourself up to a night of pure torture from a particular presence that seemed to haunt every. fucking. frat party.

Ellie Williams. Right on cue she walked over, ignoring you as she plopped down onto the couch with a few of the frat boys. She opens a little bag and turns in to face them. Of course. Obviously the stoners would choose the couch as their designated spot for the night.

Even if she had not acknowledged you, you already were burning with annoyance. The orange lighting currently overhead painted you the same color your insides felt. A growing flame, dull and orange in the pit of your stomach.

Ellie was a usual attendee at these parties. But not with a group of friends or some sorority like a normal person. No, Ellie was the chosen dealer for most fraternities of the university.. meaning she almost always showed up to smoke and give out to stingy college students.

But god, you could not understand what made her the choice for these people. You found her utterly obnoxious. She was loud— had the mouth of a sailor, and was always making god awful jokes. She had no shame— outwardly talking to whoever she wanted however she wanted, flirting with girls no matter the situation. Because Ellie also referred to sit out on the side of the parties, it meant you unfortunately spent a lot of time around her. You heard every stupid joke, smelt every gross joint, watched every girl swoon over her atrocious flirting. It was miserable really.

And god did she love to annoy you. It was too easy. She had discovered that at the start of last spring semester, and since then, almost a year ago, had made it a fun game for her. It became routine — and you swore she did it on purpose. Found somewhere close to you, invaded your space, and made the party even worse. Ellie would never admit that though.

Tonight wasn’t different. You couldn’t avoid your eyes drifting to where she was collecting cash from a few frat guys, loudly laughing and making jokes about some Jurassic Park movie that a frat guy promised to put on the projector later.

“Nah, the second one is way better!” The frat boy, Josh from Sigma something-something (you didnt care to remember the names) argued.

Ellie quickly shook her head, and you noticed she was wearing that messy half up half down hairstyle you once told her looked dumb. “You fucking idiot, the first is way better! It's iconic and so are the dinosaurs in it!” she fights back, lightheartedly shoving Josh’s arm.

God, did she have to be so loud? It was already loud enough with the shitty music playing. You tuned out the rest of the conversation.. or attempted to. Ellie’s laugh made its way up and over the beat of the song playing. You looked over again, watching the way her head fell back. Even from here you could see the freckles on her face. The low colorful flashing lights of the room made them hard to see sometimes, though. Not that you cared.

Eventually, Josh and the three other boys got up and moved away from the couch— emptying the line of sight from you to Ellie. She caught your gaze before you could look away, and smiled that stupid cocky smile she always did.

“Need somethin’ princess?” Ellie questioned as she scooted to the seat closest to the edge you stood closest to. The name made you clench your fist tightly around the cup in your hands. She had adopted this nickname for you after commenting about 1200 times how you dressed and acted at these parties. ‘Stuck up princess’ she had called you after one particular comment. It stuck after that.

“Nope,” you popped the P, sipping at the vodka in your cup and refusing to meet her eyes again.

“You were staring.”

“Was not, you got my attention by being obnoxiously loud,” you bit back.

Ellie held her hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.”

You scoffed, turning your nose up and looking at the center of the party again. Mentally you counted your friend group and where they all were in the crowd. One finger came to press a strand of hair back into your hairdo, and then press a hand to smooth your shirt. You just wanted to get through the next hour or two and get home to study.

You can hear the flick of a lighter next to you, and bite back a sigh. Ellie had been sitting here all of five minutes and had already resorted to smoking. Unsurprisingly.

When the smell soon invades the small space between you, and that flame of annoyance in your belly grows to a small blaze.

At first you ignore it, sniffing and rubbing your nose like it would make the smell disappear. You glance around the room, eyeing some particularly loud and annoying men who were whooping and hollering. Soon though, the smell became too much. You turned to face the couch.

“Ugh,” you make a noise of disgust, loud enough for Ellie to turn her head to you. You pair the sound with a (very dramatic) scrunched up nose. “You smell horrible.”

Ellie smiles in a lazy sort of way, legs spread comfortably on the couch and head leaned slightly to look at you. She makes it a point to blow the next puff from the joint straight at you— enjoying the way your hands come to swat away the smoke like it was poison. “S’ just weed princess.. can't hurt you.”

Your arms cross, and Ellie watches as they press against the pretty baby blue lace shirt you're wearing.. too clean, too soft for a party like this. “It can make me stink though, like I already pointed out. Some of us care about things like personal hygiene, Williams,” you argue, to which she whistles, adding a quiet, “damn, low blow..”

She sits up straighter, leaning forward to inspect you. Seeing the pretty skirt that falls to your mid thigh— Ellie doesn’t doubt even for a moment that the white fabric caught lingering stares of every horny drunk college boy in the room when you walked in with your group.

But here you were, choosing to insult her instead of entertaining a single one of them.

“What's the reason for stick up your ass tonight?” She asks, making your eyes roll.

“Oh screw you, I’m acting perfectly reasonably.”

Ellie actually laughed at that, loudly enough to make you turn your head in embarrassment. “The way you act with me is never reasonable actually, but tonight is extra bad. You look stiffer and didn’t even attempt to be civil.”

It annoyed you even more that she noticed the stress radiating off of you so easily. She always could— it made her even better at pulling on the threads of you that made you most annoyed. She knew how to get a rise out of you.

“It's absolutely none of your business, Ellie,” you snap. Maybe it was a little harsh for such a simple question, but the auburn haired girl beside you got that out of you easily.

“God, would it kill you to be a little less bitchy for one night?” her green eyes narrowed in at you and she took another puff of the joint. Your eyes followed as she tilted her head up to the ceiling to blow out the smoke.

“Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Fuck you too, princess.”

There's a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, lights flashing now between a deep blue and green. The toe of your shoe tapped into the wood of the floor, the repeated motion serving as a distraction from the annoyance that Ellie caused. Your mind falls back to the exams you have to study for tonight.

The distraction quickly ends when the voice you had come to recognize anywhere popped up again. “Can you chill out? I can hear your shoe tapping from here.”

You huff, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can you shut the hell up? Go back to your joint and leave me alone.”

Ellie just scoffs, mumbling something about you needing the smoke more than her.

You ignore it, but can't deny how your mind wanders to the comment. What would it be like to smoke? Would it take the edge off like everyone said? You had only tried once or twice before.. both at a small get together where you ended up having to sober up quickly to care for your drunken friends.

“Seriously,” Ellie says a bit louder. “Come sit and have a smoke.”

“Excuse me?” you look at her like she had suggested the two of you take your clothes off mid party. Or she had suddenly grown two heads. It would offend her, the clear disgust— if she didn’t know you so well.

“There's a huge group of drunk guys walking over right now-“ she pointed with one of her fingers to where they were passing some game of beer pong. “If you stay there you’ll just get more pissed off and strung up when they bump into you and shit.”

You eye the group, slightly annoyed that Ellie was again right about how you would react. You glance then at the couch, at the weird dark stain and uncomfortable looking material. “I'm not smoking. But if you want me to sit? Take off your sweatshirt.”

Now it was Ellie’s turn to ask, “Excuse me?”

You make a face at her, pointing to the gross couch. “I’m not sitting on that nasty couch. If you want me to sit? take off your sweatshirt and let me use that.”

You know it's a bratty request, and neither you or Ellie look away from each other for a moment, not knowing who was going to make the first move. You almost regret it, and then Ellie reaches to the bottom of her sweatshirt.

It sends some sort of shockwave through you when she pulls the material over her head. You convince yourself it's because you feel like you have won, gotten your way over the girl you hated. Definitely not because her undershirt rode up for a moment, or that her sleeve tattoo was now on display.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” she says in a exasperated tone, but still lays the sweatshirt across the seat on next to her on the couch.

You smile sarcastically, “Mhm, thanks,” you move to the front of the couch, holding your skirt down as you sit on top of her sweater and press forward, sitting straight up so the back of your shirt doesn't hit the couch. You felt Ellie’s eyes on you, on the very large gap between you. “I can't infect you with something you know?” the auburn haired girl says a bit slowly.

“Haven’t I said it a million times? You smell bad.”

Ellie’s lip quirk into a smile and she doesn’t reply, placing the joint between her lips again and lighting it for another drag.

Just like she described, the group of college boys clambered over to the drink table, invading the corner you were just standing in to shout loudly and put the bottles wildly into cups. You cringe, shifting in your seat. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were glad Ellie had asked you to sit now.

The two of you didn’t talk, for a moment you watch Ellie’s freckled cheeks suck in slightly as she takes a drag, and watch her lips part to blow it out. Unable to tear your eyes away until a new voice comes from in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N right?” Ellie glances up for a split second before going back to looking uninterested in the boy trying to start conversation with you.

“Yep,” you answer plainly as you look at him. You recognized him in a blurry sort of way. His name started with an L… Lucas.. Leo.. La-

“Im Liam, from the last party,” he explains before you finish your train of thought. “Right, Liam.”

Liam bounces a bit on his heels, which embarrasses you. You fight the urge to curl your lip at the sight. “I was wondering if you wanted to go chill with a few of my friends and girls from your sorority upstairs? We’re gonna smoke and play games like seven minutes in heaven.”

Beside you it feels like someone has stiffened, but you ignore it. You let your face drop to look even more uninterested. “Seven minutes in heaven? Really? What are we? Fifteen?”

Liam flushes, clearing his throat to talk again. You just shake your head to stop him. “I don't smoke either so no thank you, Liam. Im good.”

The boy slumps a little. “Right. Maybe next time,” and then he turns on his heel and walks off.. looking like a dog with its tail between their legs.

Ellie chuckles, making that fire come back to your belly. You turn quickly— eyeing her. “What's funny, Williams?”

“He totally wanted to fuck you,” Ellie shrugs, watching until Liam disappears up the stairs.

You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, picking at your painted nails to keep the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Fuck off.”

“Trust me, I know these guys. Every party one of them tries to get in your pants, and you turn them down every single time.”

Ellie looks smug as she says it— and you want to wipe the look off her fucking face. Acting like she knew something, like she could tell you more about what was happening than you could.

“You don’t know shit Ellie,” you argue, unable to bite back the slightly misplaced anger anymore, leaning forward. “Why do you even care? Are you obsessed with me or something? Not everyone wants to fuck everything that walks.”

The words have a bite to them, bitter on your tongue. Your chest’s rise and fall is speeding up as you finish speaking. You watch as Ellie’s eyes get darker in the light, the flashing lights stop into a solid red as some song with the color name begins.

“And why do you care who I fuck? hm? Maybe you do need to get laid by one of those guy’s falling all over you. Might make you a little less of a strung up bitch,” Ellie’s voice is harder now, aiming to displease you more so than before.

It works, the flame in you spilling over to a whole fucking house fire at the comment. Your hand instinctively grips your cup, reaches forward and dumps it all over Ellie’s chest.

Silence follows, and you immediately regret it.. knowing you took it too far. This quiet is uncomfortable enough to make you squirm, pressing further away from the wet patch growing on the cushion. Ellie looks at her shirt, very slowly raising her head to look dead at you.

“Get up.” It's not a question when she says it, harsher tone than she had ever used with you.

For once, you don’t immediately bite back. “Wha-“

“Get up. You just fucking dumped your drink on me, you can help me fix it,” Ellie demands again. She puts out the joint on the table nearby, messy enough to make you cringe.

You can't tell how red her face is because of the lights.. but you are sure she is fuming. The way she is stiff and slow with her movements to stand a clue enough.

That’s why you don't fight to scramble to your feet after her when she starts walking. Your fingers grip at the sweatshirt under you, holding it in your hand as she pushes past people to get to a room nearby. You follow quickly behind— watching curious eyes follow you chasing after the other. The red lights hide the growing blush on your cheeks, the music pounding in tandem with your heart.

When she pushes open a door, you squeeze in quickly after her.

Ellie’s tattooed arm reaches to the side of you where the doorknob is, and her fingers move to lock it. You swallow at the proximity, ducking away quickly.

She doesn’t speak as she peels the now wet shirt from her frame— throwing it on the floor near the bed. Your eyes don't look away as she does so. In fact, you can’t tear them away.

Her body is toned, more so than you would have expected. Not that you thought of her shirtless before or anything. Her fingers ghost gently over her own skin, wiping any extra wetness. Your pupils follow the way the digits move.

What doesn’t surprise you however, is the sports bra that lays beneath the shirt. It's snug against her skin, and you watch as she tugs it back into the right place. You watch her breathe, heavy and unsteady, a clear sign she is not exactly calm at the moment.

“You are such a fucking brat, you know that?” Her blazing eyes meet your own— and you almost shrink. This Ellie.. She was different. You are no longer burning with the anger her face usually ignites in you. No, this fire is all different.

“Oh cat got your tongue now, princess? for once you don't have a stuck up comment to make hm?” She steps closer to you, looking down to where her sweatshirt hangs from your fingertips.

“Put my sweatshirt back on me.”

The words make your mouth go slack, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “Fuck off, Ellie.”

“Im serious,” her hair is more messy now, strands falling in front of her face as she stares at you. “You made me take it off for you, so now you can put it back on me. Fair is fair, princess.”

“You can’t be serious,” you scoff, shaking your head at the suggestion.

“You do it or I go out there, tell the frat hosting that you’re a crazy bitch who spilt her drink on me. You and your sorority sisters would get blacklisted from every party before those pretty eyelashes could even blink.”

It's a threat. A threat to your power, the social standing within your group and the general university. A threat to your ego as a whole, the thought you would be the cause of something like that. It also was a quick reminder that no matter what you said to her at these parties, she was the one with the power. You could insult and poke at her all you wanted.. but Ellie was the one with half of the people out in that room down the hallway wrapped around her finger. Her.. business determined that.

You purse your lips, meeting the green eyes staring at you again. It's another fight for power. Seeing who will crack under the tension first. You find yourself noticing the freckles that dust her face again, and a small red mark on her cheek you had not really paid attention to before. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you look away in defeat.

Ellie knows she won, stepping even closer to you, enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of her. It does something to you that you wouldn’t like to admit, your knees going ever so slightly weak. She pushes a fallen strand of auburn hair back behind her ear while waiting for your next move.

It comes a second later, shuffling the sweatshirt in your hand to the right position, leaning forward to push the hoodie part over Ellie’s head, fingers shaking when they brush against her bare shoulder. You can't admit to yourself that it isn’t because of some annoyance that you were reacting like this. She helps a bit when you drag the sweatshirt down her chest by pushing her arms through the sleeves.

When it's finished, you both linger for a moment, your nails still near her waistline. It only ends when she steps back, gaze still set on you.

“You gonna say sorry?” she asks, eyebrow raising expectantly.

You shake your head. “Fuck. Off.”

Ellie tsks, watching your every movement. She didn’t ignore how your eyes had been all over her tonight, how you couldn’t look away when her shirt was off. And god, what would be a better way to win whatever this was than taking what she wanted from you.

“Cmon, you know I was right about what I said,” she steps around you and then forward, smiling as you continue to back away everytime she gets closer. when the back of your leg hits the bed, you stop. “You do need to get fucked, might make you a little less miserable to be around.”

Her voice has fallen more quiet, a little something new to the way she spoke.

“But you don’t want one of those dicks outside to do it, do you?” it's accusatory when it's said, enough to make you realize where this conversation was going.

God, you would never admit it out loud. not even to yourself. Everytime you avoided a guy’s advance to instead bicker with Ellie all night. The times you insulted her about something because it made you warm all over, like a certain hairstyle or shirt. You blamed her a lot for annoying you, for those jokes she makes— for how she bothers you. But in honesty, you just hated that you couldn’t look away. Not from her face, her hands, the way she smokes, or spreads her legs open when she sits. It’s absolutely infuriating how much you think of her. But you had always kept it deep enough to not think about it until she brought it up herself.

“No, that's why you always turn them down.. why you always look at me after you do. God, you don't even realize it do you?” A shocked sort of chuckle escaped her lips, like she couldn’t believe this realization either. Her finger moves to a strand of your hair that must have fallen while you chased after her.

“You want me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you princess? That's why you are always such a little priss, isn't it. Get you so hot and bothered you just can't help but be mean?”

When you don't answer, Ellie reaches forward quickly to grab your wrist, gaining your attention. “Answer me.”

“No- I don’t fucking want you Ellie,” you choke it out, like it burned your throat to say. It was worse than a shot of whatever they had outside this door.

“If you don’t want me, then walk away right now. But this is your only chance. No more after this. You can't get one of those asshole frat guys instead. No more entertaining the little arguments you start. No more ignoring when you stare at m-“

You can't even let her finish her words before you crash forward, meeting her lips in an immediately messy kiss. She swears against your lips before dropping your wrist, arms instead moving to your hips, pressing you flush against her body. You want to pull away, regain the control you so desperately cling to— want to run off and out of the party.

But once the kiss deepens, once her tongue swipes against your lips.. you’re a goner.

You whimper when she bites your bottom lip harshly, and she swallows the sound with another burning kiss. You pull her to fall back onto the bed with you, and she immediately manhandles you further onto the bed, taking position over you and not apologizing when your head slams roughly into the headboard.

“Asshole,” you whine, she digs her fingers into your hip to shut you up as her teeth drag down to your neck, wet kisses and small bites pressing there until she finds the spot that makes you shiver, hand slapping against her arm, pretty nails pressing into the skin.

She bites harder, pulling a louder yell from you. She then sucks over the spot, soothing it with another swipe of her tongue. The throbbing feeling will no doubt result in a mark— and Ellie seems to know exactly that.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” she mumbles against your skin as she sucks another spot, controlling your hips with one hand when they try to buck up.

“All those other girls are gonna know when you wake up with these littered all over your neck tomorrow-“ another bite. “Gonna know what happened, what the perfect little sorority girl did with me.”

The comment draws another noise from you, and the heat pools between your legs, embarrassingly turned on by the thought of that humiliation sure to follow walking out of this room later. You can feel your panties going damp when she doesn’t let up the assault on your neck and collarbone.

You can smell the weed on her when her head dips closer to you again, and for once you don’t mind it. You meet her lips, shaky hand still gripping at the inked skin of her arm.

She's so controlled in her movements, enjoying how you are already a squirmy mess, enjoying how she has control. It's nothing like the Ellie she was in public, loud and joking. No, she was completely serious and calculated with every single swipe of her finger, every movement of her lips. One hand roughly goes to your chest, pushing up your shirt above your breasts, not bothering to even do the kindness of taking it off all the way.

“Mm, no bra?” Ellie questions mockingly, pulling back from your wet lips— acting like she hadn’t noticed the lack of one the moment you turned to face her at this damn party.

You shake your head, reduced to little words.

Ellie watches you carefully, at your puffy lips, at the way your perfect hair is now falling in chunks against the pillow. God, what a sight. You, untouchable and pristine.. reduced to being fucked on a stranger’s bed in a frat house. By her.

“Want me to touch you here?” she questions, fingers ghosting over your nipples.. smiling when they pebble at the softest touch. Your back arches, searching for more skin to skin as you nod quickly.

“Nuh Uh- words, princess, need you to say it.”

You glance at her, one side of you fighting against this feeling of submission you can feel yourself falling into. In an act of defiance, your hand comes up and over her larger one, pressing it down against the skin of your breast, breathing out a moan instead of answering her question.

This however was a bad idea, and she immediately pulls completely back, quick to grab your face harshly between her palm. “You fucking brat,” Ellie seeths, your lips pressing open just slightly at how hard she is pressing her hand. The roughness only makes you wetter, and you attempt to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.. but Ellie is faster, slotting a knee in between your legs as she looks down at you, free arm holding herself up.

“No, you don’t get anything from me, no relief for that throbbing feeling you have im sure,” she says it so cockily that you think you may melt into the sheets beneath you. “Not till you admit you want me. Admit you want me to touch you.”

Your face burns a bright red, angry and embarrassed at the same time. You tried to avoid this admittance, ready to die on the hill to protect your already bruised ego.

But then Ellie moves her knee slightly, a shock goes straight through your core. Even the smallest movement had you trying to push down against her needily. She squeezes your face harder. “Just say it, I can make you feel so much better if you just admit it.”

The line your dignity was tiptoeing on is fraying, taken over by the bowling ball amount of weight from the desire in your stomach. The second her knee moves again, the string breaks.

“Please,” you beg, watching as Ellie’s eyes light up at the words, “Ellie I want you to touch me.”

Ellie smiles, reveling in how embarrassed you look. “Where baby?”

You suck in a breath, too far gone to keep fighting, “my pussy, please, please Ellie.. need you to.”

You’re squirming all over now, whining and feeling your throat tighten. Your lip gloss is all over your (and Ellie’s for that matter) chin, and your shirt is still just pushed over your chest. It makes Ellie shake her head. “God, you look pathetic. What happened to you hm? Where’s that put together girl you love to brag about being?”

Any words to snap back die in your throat, her mean tone is making your mind too foggy. The way you are totally at the mercy of her body, of the way she talks to you.. It’s addicting. The feeling of letting go of that control and power you hold so tightly onto.. It's almost as good as the sensation of her knee starting to move more regularly against your center.

“You look like a whore,” she laughed meanly. You are sure it’s true, your skirt is falling down, your hair has snapped out of its tie. Her hand lets go of your chin, and you move your mouth slightly at the soreness. The freedom is short- lived however, and two fingers are tapping your cheek soon after.

“Open,” Ellie says, smiling when you do so immediately. “See, it's not hard to be a good girl.”

She sinks the two fingers into your waiting mouth, one quick demand to, “Suck,” is all you need to close your mouth around them.

You aren’t careful about it, drool seeping out the corner of your mouth when she starts thrusting the fingers in and out slightly, watching in amusement as she curls her long fingers slightly, making you gag. “So fucking messy,” she mumbles.

Her pupils are just as blown out as yours when she speaks again, pulling her fingers out after deeming they were wet enough. A line of spit follows, connecting to your lips.

She wipes the excess across your face, furthering that deep embarrassment that builds in you. “‘m gonna fuck you now, princess.”

She says it as she makes you sit up with her on the bed, arm pulling to set you up how she wanted, knees tucked under your thighs on each side of her lap. You let her push and tug you around— fully dumbed out for her at this point. Desperate for some relief.

her fingers play with your skirt for a moment, and you both watch intently as they disappear under it. You push into her, earning a quick look. “Be good,” the girl demands.

You stop your movements, mumbling something Ellie can't understand. The pad of her finger slides over your clothed slit— humming at the wet feeling.

“You’re fucking soaked,” she shook her head, “All from what? Cause I was mean to you? Just from my knee, baby? How pathetic.”

Another whine rips from your throat, head falling to her shoulder. She shrugs it to force your head up again. “Want ya to look at me while I do this,” she explains— green eyes now mostly black as they meet your own. You nod, trying to please her enough for the next move.

“Atta girl..” she praises.

Your panties are pushed to the side as she sinks a singular finger into you— both of you moaning at the feeling. You’re so warm and tight around her that she gets dizzy, a warmth pooling in between her own legs. But tonight, It was about you. It was about proving who had the control here.. who could make you feel so good.

“Fuck,” you blubber, not getting a chance to savor the feeling before shes moving it in and out quickly, and then she is adding another finger.. and a minute after that, another. It's stretching you so well, so perfectly that you swear you could come right there. But you don’t, eyes set on her own— a hard look on her face as she watches your reactions. She leans closer, wanting to hear every little breath, every whimper.

“What would they think, hm?” Ellie huffs, pressing further into you. “All those frat boys who eye you up at every party,” she adds with a particularly hard thrust. “What do you think they would say if they found out it was me you got up that pretty little skirt first?” She whispers against your ear. Each word is emphasized with a press of her fingers, each rougher.. deeper, than the last.

You can feel your cheeks burning, and you blink away the tears welling in your eyes. You can't help the reaction— it's too much. She’s too much. The feeling is stealing all coherent words and thoughts from your mind— making you a teary and whining mess.

It made a fire flick in Ellie’s lower stomach— knowing she was the cause of pristine, pretty, perfect you— looking so messy. So fucked out. All from just her fingers. From her words.

“Too dumb to answer?” she teases, “too drunk on my fingers to even say anything?”

You shake your head like it isn’t true, and she slows her hand. You shake, trying to thrust yourself down onto them.

“Tell me then princess, tell me none of them could fuck you like this. No one could get you this fucking pathetic other than me.”

Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks now, lip quivering as you search for more friction. “Please, please el,” you cry, “No one else no one else, just you-“

All of your words slur together, and your nails dig into Ellie’s shoulder enough to make her hiss. The answer seems good enough, and she resumes her quick and harsh movements, fingers curling to hit that spot that made your mouth fall open, tears dripping past your lips.

“Fuck yea, only me,” she groans, your words pushing her to make you come even more now, thumb rubbing against your clit. It coaxes downright pornographic noises from you. Ones that someone had to have heard. You don’t give a fuck though, not right now.

“M’ gonna come,” you whine, face falling to Ellie’s shoulder again, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck. This time Ellie allows it— too focused on the wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of you under the now ruined skirt.

“Alright baby, you can come,” Ellie coos— finally showing a bit of kindness to you as you clench around her fingers. “Come for me, princess.”

The cord in your stomach snaps, and you have to bite at Ellie’s neck to stop from screaming. The orgasm hits you like a fucking train, shaking harshly.

Ellie works you through it, mumbling compliments against you. “So pretty, so messy and perfect for me,” she hums. When she is sure you have calmed down enough, she slowly pulls her fingers out, and then lays you back against the bed. You sink into the mattress, cheeks red and wet with tears. She admires you, messy fingers pressing to her own lips to get a taste. The flavor of you, god Ellie thinks she may be addicted. She sucks her fingers clean and for a moment debates ringing another orgasm out of you with her tongue. But the look on your face, how tired you look.. she decides to save it for another time.

For now she stands, searching around until she finds the attached bathroom, disappearing into it.

Your eyes search for her, feeling needy. “El-“ you whimper.

“I'm just getting a rag to clean you up baby,” she explains from the open door— and you relax when she walks back out with a warm small rag.

She joined you back on the bed, coaxing your legs open as she very carefully cleans you off. The friction makes more tears drop from your eyes.

“Aw princess,” she pouts— wiping with her other hand to get the tears off of your cheek and drool off your chin. “So pathetic looking.. so pretty.”

The switch between praise and degradation makes you dizzy again, eyes closing for a second.

When shes done cleaning you up, you grab her wrist when she tries to stand. “ w’nna make you feel good el,” you beg. It takes Ellie a moment to match your whiny voice to that of the girl she knew outside of this bedroom, but when she comes back to reality— she shakes her head.

“Later baby, promise. You’re too tired, wanna get you back to your place.”

The promise to not just abandon after this makes your heart twist in your chest, that cold front that Ellie put on while fucking you straying away now.

You nod, letting Ellie help you sit up.

“Ready to walk through that door?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

A tired laugh bubbles in your throat just at the thought, cheeks hot all over again.

“Yea. Yea, I’ll just say we got into a fist fight.”

“Fucking brat.”

[poisonheiress]

Someone needs to say it: The "Heaven is actually bad" plot line that Hazbin is based around is useless when you spend more then 2 minutes thinking about Vivzie's Hell and her characters.

Besides it being much too early for this idea, the revelation that Heaven or at least the beings running it aren't good people has little to no impact when the people who are being harmed by this are all horrible people. Stay with me here. None of these people are people who were unfairly brought into hell and we are never ever introduced to someone who was either. Why should we care that Heaven is "evil" and blocking redemption when all the sinners in hell we see are the worst of the worst who would have never gotten in even if it was fair.

For the "Heaven is bad" plot line to actually work, you need people who were just one sin away from Heaven, who would've gotten into Heaven if circumstance hadn't forced them down a path that stole it from them. You need characters who aren't comedic villains but land in the middle of morally grey. Those who deserved to be in Heaven but because Heaven refused to consider their circumstances, they were tossed to burn with people much worse than them. Those are the people who should be your main cast cause those are the people who would actually be impacted by Heaven being bad/ Heaven lying.

Angel dust, for all his trauma, was still part of the mafia and likely had killed people before (showing to almost take joy in it). Husk became an overlord and gambled souls, so he had to have had blood on his hands before hell. Alastor is a serial killer, and the list goes on and on. Sure, these characters are (somewhat) interesting, but they don't make for good characters to have when the key plot line is that Heaven is a scam. Even if that fact is true, none of them were ever going to get there in the first place and this is something we also se in every single background sinner shown in Hell too. They were never close to getting there, so why would they or we care that Heaven is bad when all sinners are shown to be horrific people who are at best in the dark grey area of morality.

If you look at it from the "angel's are unfairly killing sinners" route, it still doesn't work. If the angels are killing them, what makes it different then the sinner on sinner violence that hell is full off? Why is them dying by angels this bad thing when they are just as likely if not 10x times more likely to get knifed in the back by other sinners in hell the other 364 days, especially when everyone here apparently is just as horrible as the next person. You cannot condemn the angels for killing demons and then make a joke of out sinners killing each other and never show sinners who doesn't want to kill people. Life either matters or it doesn't and when the main cast doesn't even show a care for life (outside of Charlie's who's entire flaw is her naivety), why should the audience.

On top of that, Vivzie's whole overpopulation aspect and the Heaven plot line would connect better if she actually had people like those I mentioned above, people who stole to survive but got tossed out cause stealing is technically wrong, people who killed another to protect someone else but were still sent to hell because even though they saved that person's life that person wasn't supposed to be saved, people who passively engaged in sins but never really did anything harmful under them. This would add into how Hell is so overpopulated and highlight why its so important that Heaven is evil/ why Charlie's plan isn't just a naive pathetic fever dream.

In the end, Vivzie should have never made Heaven the central plot of this show nor tried to assign this blatant good vs evil to that conflict. Neither her characters nor her writing choices are able to respond to this conflict in a way that will end or even tell the story in a satisfactory manner.

[achaotichuman]

If a character's actions are justified by the narrative, especially to the point that they do not at all need to apologise for them in any way. Then they are not morally grey, they are morally white.

If a character's actions are not justified by the narrative, and result in consequences that hurt the short term, or hurt the protagonist, but overall help further the plot and help the protagonist succeed. Then they are not morally white, they are morally grey.

Rhysand SAing Feyre, kidnapping her, physically abusing her, overstepping her boundaries, touching her without consent, lying to her by omission, is all justified by the narrative, he is never held accountable, and is never needed to apologize.

Tamlin locked Feyre in his house so she never ended up being injured, kidnapped or killed by Hybern when he was going on a potentially life-threatening mission. Though it traumatized Feyre, it was the better choice out of a group of bad choices. But he is consistently held accountable. He makes deals with Hybern to get Feyre back after she was kidnapped by Rhysand, and despite the fact he used this as a means to spy on Hybern and in the end win them the war. Feyre destroys his Court for it.

Rhysand is not morally grey.

Tamlin is not the morally white hero.

Rhysand is the morally white, clean-slate, can-do-no-wrong-ever love interest that everyone claims to be so sick of it.

Tamlin is the will burn the world for those he loves, knows he is doing something wrong but does it for the greater good, morally grey anti-hero that everyone claims to utterly adore.

[tiyoin]

me yapping about azul

since seeing the recent 'leaks' for the new octavinelle 'chapter' in the twst manga

I was wondering how Azul would show you he likes you

maybe its from him boasting his achievements while you're in ear shot to let you know just how accomplished he is. because after all, the3 ladies love a well rounded guy 😼

but he makes sure to reel it down a bit when he thinks you might think of him as full of himself (to which he is to some extent.) mainly because he heard you grumble the other day about how pretentious some of the students are. he agrees! stop acting like you achieved something when you haven't!

he's different because[insert list of achievements]

he seems like the type of guy to subtly listen to your food preferences (by sitting near you in the cafeteria during lunch time) and oh boy! there's now a special dessert at the monster lounge for a limited time only!

oh no... one of the twins are serving you and he/ one of them creates some kind... spectacle in the lounge. yes its unprofessional and it kills him. but he makes it seem like some customers had a bad day and decided to take it out on his poor helpless employees

(boohoo, cried the wolves in sheep's skin)

he has no other choice but to go up to your table and apologize for you... rowdy neighbors.

"it's fine-"

no! he cannot have a first time guest think so poorly of him. here- you already ordered their limited addition dessert, how about he gives you another one for... 15- no! 20 percent off! everyone else has to pay full price though... yes even your other neighbors who he merely apologizes to about the disruption

azul is a cocky coward to sum it up

he plays the game well, but also has no idea what to do. plan all he like, charm all he likes. the reality is, is that is not getting him closer to you. not yet that is.

he's calculative. I mean, you have to be to be running a successful business at 17. see! he is good at everything (why are you bringing up gym. that's pointless in the business world. is he not in good enough shape? he is strong despite his skinny stature... so who cares about stamina.-)

he's smart, kind (eye roll), and a hoot to be around!

after azul has 'crafted' his personality to you through subtle gestures (he only does around you), kind gestures (only to you...) and his off handedly brags about his feats and reasons he’d be a great boyfriend (through 'subliminal messaging'

he's going to move onto plan B! where he slowly intagrats himself into your life. mhm.

so when you and grim are looking around for a partner in the first year second year crewel assignment, azul is a kind enough senior to offer his assitan- no there's no catch.

he just thought that you would need all the help you can get- not that you're dumb, but with... azul doesn't even need to finish his sentence before you’re both eyeing grim sashaying his way to the chemicals.

so prefect? what do you say?

oh no, you happen to bump into the table and am falling with the beakers and test tubes? no worries! azul is there to play knight in shining armor and grab you, hoist you up, and protect you from the falling glass that shatters into smithereens on the ground.

yes crewel is yelling at you but see how reliable he is!! not only is he smart and... handsome- but he is a natural protector!-

just dont smile at him like that while you tuck your hair behind your ear- it makes him feel... queasy (that's what they call butterflies azul)

while merpeople are shown to be more touch centric than everyone else. when you accidentally touch Azul's finger when handing over a beaker, azul is lucky that you're on his right side where his long strand of grey hair. effectively blocking your vision of his blush striken face-

NO HE'S NOT ILL- does he look it?” “well… your face is blue-“ (you're so innocent he just wants to strangle you ugh. how utterly adorable) it's just... ridiculously hot in here, dont you think? boy he's parched.

he swiftly makes an exit to the bathroom to get. a. grip. he almost let his carefully crafted charismatic personality slip and show you-… no time to dwell on the past.

something tells him that he shouldn't be leaving you, grim and chemicals alone.

WHY IS JADE FUCKING LEECH AT YOUR TABLE??

THAT NO GOOD-

he was just helping? azul narrows his cerelium eyes at his vice dorm leader. helping with what exactly, jade? the project? …ha yeah right you no good leech.

when you tell azul about how jade was saying he- azul- was just as good at potion making as the benevolent sea witch. azul 'humphs.' why of course he is. as the dorm leader of- ....yes he did have a lot of time to study in his childhood and has been doing stuff like this for a long time. what about it.

azul can't help but feel.. irritated. what else did jade say to you? hmm?

oh.. that was all? clearing his throat, he looks back at jade who is wearing a shit-eatting grin. the eel-mer lowering himself into his seat, eyes looking up as the amber eye catches the light of the potion room. it's that sadistically percerted grin he likes to wear when he's up to no good. having sowed the first seeds of his discord and is waiting for another opportunity to tend to his garden of chaos.

whatever. lets just focus on the assignment. yes prefect he is fine.

azul doesn't like for things to go sideways. he has plan A through Z all thought out and ready to go at any minute. but when a number is added to his perfectly organized letter plans, that's when his knuckles turn white and his nails dent his palms.

the leeches are always there to keep him on his toes. he just thought that he kept his... admiration for you under good enough wraps that his two pesky workers wouldn't find out, not until later when your relationship is closer. but nnooooOOOoo

it was his own fault for underestimating them after all.

but time and time again he has prevailed through such hardships and will continue to best them when they think they can toy with him. and to win, means getting you no matter what those two whisper in your ear, and what they don't.

[fellshish]

I understand that. Michael Sheen is attractive but the more I think about Aziraphale, the more he pisses me off because the worst thing he could have said was turning Crowley back into an angel. Crowley hates heaven and doesn’t wanna be an angel. Why does Aziraphale refuse to admit that both heaven and hell suck and why does he say that Crowley is a bad guy when he isn’t one?

Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were calling Michael Sheen unattractive :))

Ok, a lot to unpack here. But i love thinking about good omens so thank you for asking.

First of all, Aziraphale didn’t say Crowley is a bad guy. Crowley said that they asked him back to hell but he’s “not rejoining their team” and he said no. To that aziraphale replied “obviously you said no to hell, you’re the bad guys”. Not the most diplomatic way to say it, he should have said “they’re the bad guys”, but beneath the words is this: he thinks it’s logical crowley said no because he doesn’t think crowley is a right fit for hell. Because crowley is good.

Does he think crowley is right for heaven, then? Not as is — but perhaps as it could be. They could make it better, together. Crowley would be safe there: no longer hated and hunted by heaven or hell. Under aziraphale’s protection. The metatron made it very clear he knew what him and crowley had been up to for all those years, and there was a veiled threat in that, in my opinion.

Now aziraphale & heaven — it’s complicated. Aziraphale doesn’t like thinking about it. He likes living in blissful ignorance enjoying human delights such as books and theater. The last thing he wants to do is work. And over the past 6,000 years he has learned to see shades of grey but he’s also been unable to make real changes. And overall he considers heaven to be better than hell, still. There’s no real alternative.

His choice at the end of season 2, to me, makes a lot of sense. Let’s put it this way. Let’s say you’ve been working for a big charity for the longest time. There are flaws in the company: not everyone who deserves it, is getting help. The charity is being run really badly.

Then, they offer you a new position. You can run the charity. You can change it, but it’ll be hard and you’ll have to give up your current life. Your best friend says: we should just run off together and be happy together. Could you turn your back on the charity? Knowing you could’ve made a difference — or at least tried? That there are people who need help, that aren’t getting it, because you made a selfish choice?

Aziraphale and crowley both have their own flaws in their reasoning, their own motivations. I don’t think aziraphale is more wrong for choosing heaven than crowley is wrong for wanting to be cut off from everything.

The truth is this: the second coming is being put into motion. Aziraphale and crowley are humanity’s only hope.

Aziraphale thinks he can make a difference by influencing heaven. I don’t think he’s mean, or out of character, for that choice.

I do think he should tell crowley he loves him though.

[alicentsgf]

this show would have been so much better if they’d made both sides way more equal. Because at the moment they’re not. There's a good side and a bad side. Like theres no way I can argue the greens are as ‘likeable’ as the blacks, even if I prefer to watch them. If they were so dead set on making the ‘choose a team’ thing such a big deal (which is all annoying promotional nonsense anyway but that's a point for another day) then I want to be TORN. they could have at least made it so not every bad thing that happens to the greens can be blamed on themselves. the writing just can't shake off the underlying heroes and villains narrative long enough to realise the whole point of this story is these are all meant to be complex, entire individuals who were for the most part just trying to survive. Both teams should be further into a grey area than they are. Ultimately both Alicent and Rhaenyra are just trying to keep their familys alive. That doesn't make them villains, even as it puts them at odds with each other. Why was this not dealt with in a more interesting way? It was right there to play with.

it would have been so easy to make us torn over who to support. Instead, the fanbase is split between a majority of team black, which is usually people who are approaching this from a watsonian perspective where they have bought into the ‘rightful ruler’ thing and also kinda understandably think rhaenyra would make a better monarch than her siblings, and a minority of team green, as people who are approaching it from a doylist perspective, meaning they just find team greens characterisation more interesting and don't rly care about the throne bc everyone dies anyway. And that's disappointing honestly. It should be split more evenly, that would make this story so much more engaging. Holding the greens in some way accountable for everything bad that happens to them and the blacks accountable for nothing does absolutely nothing to flesh out the core reality of this tragedy - the reality that this was always going to be the ending no matter the choices these characters made. It was set in motion before most of them were even born. The shows even written it so the death of poor little jaeherys can be blamed on his family. After daemon sent an assassin into their home!! Like are you serious. Its a weak disneyfied retelling of the original story, which is what literally no one comes to asoiaf for. stop trying to spoonfeed us and give us some real emotional turmoil for once!!!

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

honestly, i think the double standards with catra and glimmer stems from something other than pretty privilege, and it's something i've seen in a lot of media.

take, for instance, the atla fandom demonizing aang and katara but coddling azula. or the su fandom villanizing steven but making excuses for spinel and lapis.

and the reason for this is that villains or antagonists are always given more freedom to make mistakes, to do heinous shit, to be cold or rude or insensitive to others. the logic being that "they're the villain, of course they're gonna be horrible".

with heroes, on the other hand, there's this subconscious judgment whenever they make a mistake. heroes are meant to be perfect and as much as people say that they want more antiheroes, they always judge a hero based on how morally good they are.

which explains why katara is hated on for saying something insensitive out of repressed grief and trauma, but azula is coddled for committing multiple war crimes.

why glimmer is bashed for being kinda mean and making some bad choices due to grief and pressure, but catra's conscious choice to attempt genocide and willing participation in war is justified.

why steven is villanized for having a mental breakdown after years of suppressed trauma, but spinel's attempts to kill dozens of people on earth are excused.

why mabel is demonized for being kinda selfish sometimes and for being manipulated into giving away something she didn't know the importance of, but bill is loved by everyone.

why korra is blamed for trusting her uncle and losing her connection to the previous avatars, instead of unalaq being held accountable for manipulating her (unalaq isn't really coddled by the fandom but there's a huge victim blaming problem).

simply put, people want heroes to be pure. they want surface-level flaws like clumsiness and awkwardness, not REAL flaws. as much as these people say that they want more morally grey or complex heroes, the truth is that they can't even handle their hero being kinda rude to someone.

especially with characters like glimmer, mabel and katara, who have a more traditionally feminine aesthetic and is generally a good person, people expect them to be well-behaved and perfect all the time. even though both these characters were shown to be passionate and stubborn and fierce from the very beginning, people are still blindsided when they actually take a bold stance or act on their emotions.

and with steven, he was a nice, happy, easygoing kid in the beginning and he tried to remain optimistic throughout all the trauma he went through, so people just expect him to do that forever. to always repress his feelings and never give himself the space to express them, to always focus on being a therapist for literally every other character and to never prioritize himself.

and like sure, villains are meant to be evil. i'm not telling anyone to water down their villains. but there's a difference between liking a villain and excusing their actions. i like azula. i like all of the villains in tlok. i like bill cipher. i even like catra and white diamond minus their shitty redemption arcs.

but i'm not going to set double standards by justifying everything that a villain does and demonizing a hero for acting out of line once. especially if the hero actually takes responsibility for their actions and tries to be better, and the villains just get forgiven for doing the bare minimum.

[littlemisssatanist]

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x01

Aaaaaaannnnd we're back!!

OMG I cannot tell you how good it feels to be back writing costume meta - I have missed it so very much and this first episode has given me lots and lots to talk about so lets crack on with it shall we!

Where to start?! Firstly - Its amazing to have Alayna Bell-Price back in the driving seat and she is a genius because she knows the characters better than anyone and I have to say from my perspective there is a pretty clear difference between this episodes costumes and the ones from season 6 - not that s6's costumes were bad, just that you could see the shift of having a designer who didn't know the characters to the same level. I’m going to go in order of character appearance in a non uniform capacity for this one I think so we’re going to jump around from character to character a bit. There is no Maddie or Hen this week, as we don't see them out of uniform, but every one else is accounted for and I've included Norman and Lola as they've got a multi episode arc and their costumes are interesting and playing into a colour theme!

putting it below the cut as its a long post and I on't want to overtake everyones dashes! Enjoy!

We start off with Athena in this pale pink high neck ribbed sweater with large bell sleeves. I've spoken a fair amount about pale pink over the last couple of seasons of costume metas and how, in clothes its representative of childish and immature behaviours or thoughts. That holds true here - the pale pink is playing into Athena's childhood - when she developed her fear of cruise ships - its creating a connection between her childhood experiences and the woman sitting in Franks office.

We get a flashback that shows her in yellow and orange - the yellow for communication and the orange for transformation. A literal moment where we see Athena transform from the innocence of youth to her developing anxiety and fear around cruise ships. Its really clever visual storytelling connecting adult with child and shows us her fear is genuine and founded in something that she may not have been able to articualte fully as a child, but she can as an adult, even if she doesn't actually articulate it to Bobby.

Our next non uniform costume is Chimney. The lighting is really low in this scene, so it's kind of hard to be 100% sure of the colouring, but he seems to be wearing either a dark navy or black button up shirt under a dark green and black bomber jacket. The use of really dark green in combination with black, Back is a colour that can be about hiding ones vulnerabilities - concealment and masking, but it is also a colour associated with magic (generally dark magic) as well as pessimism. The green is growth and renewal, and the hope for a better future. to use them in combination i this way is playing on Chimneys insecurites and fears, his desire to keep the 'magic' alive in his relationship with Maddie, but it also speaks to his growth, that he goes home and talks to her about it (even if he does come up with an insane plan to 'date forever').

Eddie in the locker room - aside from being shirtless for much of it and pulling some epically good faces - was a super interesting costume choice. Especially the use of his watch! first though - Denim shirt time! We don't actually see Eddie in a denim shirt all that often and we've seen him in the super washed out one far more than dark denim shirts. I've been laughing a little bit at a few people (on twitter mostly) claiming its the same shirt he was wearing at the hospital during and after Bucks coma and it being a play on bringing Buck back to life. While I like the theory, its actually a very different shirt - the one in the hospital was black with a grey wash out and was made of velveteen - so different colour and fabric.

This shirt, is however one we have actually seen Eddie wear before and its far more telling than if it were the hospital shirt. You need to bear in mind that this scene is about Buck and Eddies respective girlfriends (or lack there of) and the fact that Christopher has a girlfriend now as well. This shirt is the same shirt Edie was wearing when he (re)introduced Ana to Chris in 4x08 (breaking point my beloved! the gift that keeps on giving!) and this puts a conversation about Marisol and things going well with her into the same category as Ana - suggesting she is ultimately destined for the same fate as Ana. the other thing that plays into this narrative is the use of the watch.

Eddie does not put the Christopher watch on until after he has found out that Buck has broken up with Natalia - so during the entire conversation about their respective girlfriends, he is only holding the Christopher watch, rather than wearing it.

In the picture below from 4x08 you can see that Eddie is wearing his black 'work' watch rather than the brown strapped 'Christopher' watch. Remember that the first time we see the Christopher watch is when he goes for his first date with Ana in Jinx, so he already has this watch and in theory should be wearing it in this scene. The fact he isn't is pretty telling and I'll go into that a bit more later when we get to Chris's (and Eddies) date scene.

Then we have Buck in his outfit of many colours! The white trainers, continue to play into my theory of Buck wearing them when he is in key points on his journey to discover his self - her it is about showing his growth - that he ended the relationship with Natalia - this is a massive thing when we saw how long it took for him to end things with Taylor - The man who clings is growing and getting out before it drags him down!

The jacket is similar in style to many of the ones we've seen him wearing in season 5 and 6, but this one is much brighter and more colourful. I know I go on about white meaning bad things for Buck, but that isn't relevant here - the white bad things happen to Buck theory is much more about t-shirts, jumpers and shirts rather than jackets - its an under-layer rather than a top layer that = danger. So i'm not thinking of its relevance here for this scene. What I am going to say is that this (according to my spreadsheet!) is the first time we've seen Buck in a white jacket of any description. To me, it's playing into the idea of purity and rebirth which is what white is often associated with. This plays into the comment Eddie makes welcoming Buck back to 'the land of the living' but also implies that Buck is starting a new chapter and making a fresh start - the check patterning suggests it might not all be plain sailing though.

The check pattern is an interesting one, obviously check pattern theory comes into play here, but whether its only in relation to the reveal that he split with Natalia, or if its also foreshadowing Buck getting himself into danger/trouble down the line, remains to be seen.

I'm going to quote myself again because I did predict that this scene may be about his relationship with Natalia when we got the stills dropped - the costume department never let us down!

The only thing I can do is scream into the void about check theory because check does't bode well for people - they always end up in the middle of the drama (see my check theory posts linked on my pinned post for more) and while they come out the other side (99% of the time) Buck in check for that scene in 6x18 pretty much doomed his relationship with Natalia (its specific to her and not C&K's baby as Buck wasn't wearing it when he delivered it!) and as that shirt in the still is very un Buck like, has not only yellow ochre in it, but also its a white base (and we all know buck in white is a bad sign!!) and its check patterned - my theory is that this scene is connected to Natalia in some way - either Buck is not being true to him self in more than one way - that things are going to/have come to a head for their relationship (my kingdom for a reverse of Buck to Eddie about Ana in 5x03!!!) and lead to a pretty big change in some way (fingers crossed for Buck to end it and then finally break down and deal with his trauma!!!) Some other things about that shirt - the colour combination - the green blue and yellow ochre are giving me call backs to coma Buck (another reason I think it might be connected to Bucks unresolved trauma around his death and Eddies absense in his dream)

In the quote above, I was also referring to the blue and white check pattern shirt he was wearing when he and Natalia got together, but there was also the fact that in the balcony scene at the end of 6x18, we also saw her in one of Bucks white shirts. I wrote in my 6x18 meta about how those two things combined didn't bode well for that relationship going forward, and thats what leaves me unsure about the check pattern on this white jacket being purely about something that has already happened. If I put my Buddie goggles on, I would perhaps suggest that the troubled times ahead may be more connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, and this would fit in with a couple of the things Oliver and Ryan have said. The thing with check theory though, is that generally speaking if it's on one of the mains, they come out the other side of the dram/trauma stronger than before. So if it is connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, then we can expect it to be in an even stronger position on the other side of whatever goes down (and at this point you can't strengthen their relationship any further and keep them as just friends imo!)

Chimneys forever dating proposal to Maddie, connects with his outfit when he's talking to Hen - it's the same jeans and black shirt, so the meanings of black, can be continued on into this scene - the idea of magic and hiding his vulnerabilities. The addition of the jacket with this brickwork pattern in its weave is a fun choice, it's playing into the idea of building something, but also plays into the idea that Chimney has his walls up - again fitting in with the black meaning of hiding his vulnerabilities - because instead of expressing his fears to Maddie ad then them talking it thorough, he comes up with his insane forever dating concept. the fact that much of this scene is a contrasting parallel with the scene from season 1 when he is pretending to be someone else entirely for Tatiana all ties in perfectly with this costume. The fact that he reverts to wearing blue (ran out of picture spaces so I couldn't include one) later on - when he's realised his plan isn't realistic, talks to Maddie and they end up back on the same page is really good to see - the blue being a signature Chimney colour and is indicative of him being true to himself.

Bobbys blue suit and blue check patterned shirt. The brightness of the blue is a really important choice - it's the only time we see him this brightly coloured on the cruise until he ends up in the bright red at the end. This is important because this is the moment when he's still all excited and hopeful for his honeymoon cruise - everything is good in Bobby's world at this moment in time - the check pattern is telling us that it's not going to stay that way for long. From her on out we see the colours of Bobby's costumes slowly beginning to dull and take on a washed out tone, but here in this moment all is good.

Athena's bright yellow dress is all about making her stand out - communicating with the audience, she is the brightest person in the room (in more ways than one!!). The thing with yellow, apart from the communication aspect, is that it can also be a symbol of anxiety and fear, so this dress plays rather nicely into the theme of Athenas fear of being on that ship.

The colour does have other good traits too - its fresh and bright and is a colour of happiness in its more jewel like tones and I think we can see all of these meanings in these scenes - Athena might be anxious about being on the ship, but she is also happy and enjoying herself with Bobby in that moment.

Lola and Norman. Lola is the one we need to focus on in her very bright very check patterned Victoria Beckham dress. Obviously the check pattern plays into check pattern theory, but the red also acts like a neon sign to the audience - highlighting that Lola is in danger - the ga won't pick up on check theory, although they might connect the dots about the fact this check patterning looks very like a cage - foreshadowing her being held captive later on, but also as a nod to the fact she was incarcerated previously.

The red is also a nod towards romance and love - playing into the rekindling of their relationship and romance in the aftermath of the freeway 'see me Norman' incident.

Ok so Christophers date night and by extension Eddies date night! This is where this meta is goingto get a bit messy and I'm goingto jump around a bit becasue I need to talk about the way colour theory is at play in all the scenes in Christophers bedroom, so we're going to talk about Christophers bedroom as one big thing rather than the two separate scenes that it actually is. They are extensions of one another and build on so much of the groundwork we've already seen in previous seasons.

Chris in plaid check yellow and red check plays perfectly into check pattern theory - it’s a signifier that something is about to go down with him - namely that the fact he’s dating multiple girls at the same time. 

He’s also wearing a white shirt which is not a colour we see on him all that often - in fact, the only times we’ve seen him in a completely white shirt is with his suit in 5x01 when suit shopping and again in 6x08 for his school dance. He did wear a white vest when dressed as wolverine for halloween  So as you can see its not a common colour for him, but the times have seen him wear it as a solid colour have been connected to school/girls and dating (i’m including the suit shopping in this because Ana was there and it was kind of a Eddie and Ana date of sorts - in that it was suppose to be for this Christening - meet the family - date type thing).

The most interesting thing is the plaid hooded shirt though. It was such an interesting choice to go with for a couple of reasons. the colour way is especially loud - we tend to see Chris wearing greens and blues and greys, with the odd other colour thrown in occasionally. So red and yellow are not common colours for him to be wearing.

On the red front we see him in it a couple of times - the adapted skateboarding scene and the scene in 4x10 when he joins Eddie and Ana on the sofa - getting in the way of their date night. We do also see him wear red in Christmas related episodes (so I don’t tend to count them in the same way as the Christmas colour theming will nearly always override any other colour theming intention - the use of stripes or check or other patterning is more important in those episodes!). 

On the yellow front things are even more clear cut - the Tsunami arc, the aftermath of him falling off the skateboard, Mays graduation party and 5x03’s Eddie Ana break up! These (apart from the tsunami shirt) were all bright almost neon yellow.

This new plaid shirt is more into the yellow ochre part of the yellow spectrum, therefore tying much more to the tsunami arc, which is actually really fitting if you think about it in a little more detail - its a connection, not only to Buck, but also to loss and grief. Eddie might have been using his secret weapon (Chris) to get Buck out of his moping (read mourning) over not being able to go back to work, but Christopher is also still grieving the loss of his mother at that point as well, so its not just about cheering Buck up, its also about giving Chris a chance to do something fun and distract him from his own grief. That is why the use of yellow then ties in so nicely with its use on Chris now.

The other thing that really grabbed my attention about this shirt though is the fact that the two times we’ve seen Buck have a conversation with Chris in his bedroom, he has sat in the same spot and has been wearing one of those two colours - post shooting in maroon and this episode in the yellow ochre - if you watch those two scenes side by side, you see that they’ve used almost identical camera angles as well to film Buck.

I've spoken a lot about the use of maroon as a colour connected to parenthood - especially fatherhood , which is how its intended to be read on Buck - connecting to Eddie and his being shot, pushing Buck into a parental role in Eddies absence.

That alone is a pretty loud reference to Christophers connection and relationship to Buck, but then we have the yellow ochre of it all.

I feel a little bit insane about how close my prediction was on what the Buck Christopher scene was going to be about - this is from the meta I wrote when t he stills dropped;

Whatever this scene transpires being about, based on what we've seen with Buck wearing yellow ochre, we can assume its going to continue to play into this idea of Buck not being fully truthful with people and fitting into the role he thinks people want him to pay rather than being true to himself. I do want to add to this theory by looking at Christophers shirt as well. The grey/ yellow combination is a bit reminiscent of Breaking point (the episode that really is the gift that keeps on giving) because we get Chris in grey and Eddie in tan - that is yellowish toned whilst not actually being yellow There isn't a good screenshot of them together, but the placing of Chris and Buck in the new one has echoes of Eddie and Chris in that scene (one that is interestingly enough playing into the idea of changing family dynamics, but also the moment before and the one that happens afterwards at Bucks loft, directly placing Buck into a parental role (as an aside the idea of Buck being a miracle worker plays into the theme of Eddie looking for magic, just saying!))

Indirectly this scene was about Buck not being true to himself with people and fitting into whatever role he thinks people want him to fit into, only this wasn't an active situation - this was a scene where Buck could draw on his experience of having done that in the past to help Christopher - the line from Eddie 'you didn't end up being like you' is such a call to this and actually shows how valuable Bucks own experiences and learnings are in helping Chris (we've all been joking about Eddie choosing Buck to help him with this Chris's issue, but in actual fact he was the perfect person for the job - not just because of his being a 'reformed player', but also because of his relationship with death and the death of a loved one where you are reliant on others for their memories of a person rather than having your own)

The thing with the Yellow ochre (this meta here that i've already quoted from above is the place to go if you'd like more detail on its use on Buck more widely) isn't just its about it's connection to Buck, his place in Christopher's life and more loosely to the will of it all, (the fact that Buck and Eddie are both wearing the same colour ways as in the hospital bed will reveal scene and are both on the same sides of the screen in both scenes is a stroke of genius and is meant to connect these two scenes together) its also its connection to Shannon.

The first time we meet Shannon, she sits on Christophers bed in more or less the same position as we see Buck and Eddie sit, and looks at where Christopher has been positioned in all these conversations, and she is wearing a burnt orange top thats pretty close to the dark yellow ochre we see Buck wearing. Shannon wears a lot of yellow - as in it there are only a couple of times we don't see her wearing something yellow or with yellow in it and those are key scenes (which I will talk about later on).

Shannons appearance in Christophers room to read the letter she wrote him had her in this black top with a floral patterning on it. She was also wearing green trousers (which can be seen in the still below but aren't actually seen during the scene.

I actually really loved the green trousers and black top as a choice because the top is very Shannon - it sits perfectly with the floral patterns we saw her wearing when she was still alive. The green trousers are a bit of a departure for her, but I think its very intentional for two reasons .

The first is that they are very much in the Eddie trousers wheelhouse, especially in combination with black - he wears green khaki trousers a lot. The inference being that the black and green combination is an echo of Eddie.

The second ties to Christopher. Green is also a colour we've seen on Christopher a lot, it's probably the colour we see him in most. It's being used as a reflection of the fact he is growing and transitioning from child to teenager. But having it here in this scene - on Shannon connects a Christopher growing up without his mom.

Both of these combined really connect into Shannon in this scene, tying the three of them together and on Eddies efforts to keep her alive for Christopher - the underlying implication that his growth into who he is so far is as much to do with Shannon as it is to do with Eddie.

Her necklaces were not identical to the ones we saw her in in season 2, but that's most likely because they don't have them any longer, so they've replicated them as best as they can. The other little nod that I enjoyed is the brown bracelets on her right wrist - the same place Eddie wears his brown strapped Christopher watch!

But the top they have her in plays into a couple of other things - the prominent yellow flowers make an obvious connection to Buck from the previous scene, but they also tie into the 'I want a divorce' scene from 2x17 where she is wearing a dark blue dress with bright yellow ochre flowers all over it. the dress is not especially close to the top in the wider sense - blue dress with white squares v black top with florals in a variety of colours, but the yellow flowers are the prominent aspect of both items of clothing and play into the yellow theme connected to Shannon and then to Buck.

This is espeically relevant when you remember that Eddie is in a black suit in that scene and he's wearing black when he gives the letter to Christopher.

The black for this sequence of scenes is such a poignant choice - its Eddie mourning all over again, not for his loss, but for Christophers loss. I did find it telling that again in this scene, we have the absence of the Christopher watch. Eddie has very rarely not been wearing a watch in his scenes, so the times when we don't see him wearing one are very telling.

For me, in this sequence of scenes, it's about the fact that they are not about Eddies relationship with Christopher, but about Shannons relationship with Christopher. The watch is much more about Eddie and Christopher, so to have it absent from this story arc makes total sense and is symbolic of Eddie being a good father

Then we have Christophers grey shirt - I said when we first got the stills from that scene, how it was likely to be connected to complex family relationships - a la when we’ve seen Buck wearing his grey shirt. And what do you know - the scene was about complex family dynamics/ relationships.

It wasn’t perhaps in the manner I was expecting, but that series of scenes played with the full scope of Chris’s complex family relationships - from the relationship he has with Buck -not only as Christophers friend, but also as more or less Eddies co-parent (the way Eddie asked for Bucks help screamed co-parent rather than friend imo - that whole burnt out car scene was two co-parents discussing their child!) to the relationship he has with his dad - which is a pretty great relationship, but it is a complex one.

The relationship he has with his mom - or the fact he feels he doesn’t have a relationship with her despite Eddies best efforts, because as he grows up she feels further and further away. 

Eddies 'date' night with Marisol. Again I ran out of pictures (30 is not enough!) so you're going to have to use your imagination or go back and rewatch the scene for yourselves, but trust me when I say that Eddie is wearing the same shirt he was wearing for this date night as he was in 4x10 - when Christopher interrupts because he can't sleep!

It's also a similar tee to the one Eddie wears when he has his breakdown and trashes his room (that one was more green when this one is much browner). Its slouchy and has cut and stretched raw edges at the sleeves and on the pocket - in the same way his breakdown shirt did. there is an element of being in familiar surroundings and being comfortable at home, but stretched out raw edges and Eddie generally tend to mean not so great things.

Of course there is the element of his parenting skills being tested by Christophers having more than one girlfriend, but if that where the only reason, then it would've made more sense to have him in that shirt when he's listening in to Chris talking to Buck, rather than when he's on a date with a new girlfriend.

This is especially true as the screen time for that tee has more connection with Marisol than it does with Chris. Combined with the fact that once again, like in the locker room scene, he is not wearing his Christopher watch in this scene and that speaks volumes.

If we are to read the scene as being about Christopher soley, he should be wearing his watch because that watch is a physical embodiment of the importance of Christopher in Eddies life - that he puts Christopher first in all things.

Got to say I was a bit shocked to see Marisol in his bright magenta silk spaghetti strap top when you consider the costumes we saw her in last season - mostly dressed down, t-shirts, jumpers and dungarees so this is a complete 180 for her character.

There are a few interesting things connected to her outfit, firstly it low key ties into Natalia - we saw Natalia in a red version of this top for her first proper onscreen date with Buck (when they go to the badge and ladder joint) so there is an interesting low key parallel to draw there. There is also the fact that her bracelet is a chain one - much like we've seen on all of Buck and Eddies previous girlfriends - although those have been necklaces, so I'm undecided if this chain bracelet is paying into the same trope as those.

Then there is the pink of it all.

You see Eddie and Pink on his girlfriends doesn't bode well for Marisol.

Both Shannon and Ana wore pink. Ana wore it a lot - there are two examples below, but generally speaking its her most commonly worn colour - including on her first date with Eddie in Jinx.

The first example below is from the first time we see her in the Diaz house. the shades are different, but the fact that the first time we see both characters in the Diaz house they're both wearing pink, speaks volumes.

The other key use of Pink is when Shannon is at the beach with Eddie and Christopher and she tells Eddie she's pregnant - Eddie takes it as the sign he has been looking for - the chance to effectively start over with their marriage, but this is the beginning of the end for their relationship, even if she hadn't died a short while later. She is wearing pale pink in that scene and it's the only time we see her wear the colour in the show.

The fact we can also contrast the use of pink with when Buck wears it is telling in its own right - we see the relationship between Buck and Eddie strengthening when Buck wears pink - May's graduation party, the tsunami, the Hildy coffee machine - all moments (big and small) that show the development of various aspects of their relationship and its ability to endure.

Essentially all this use of pink on the women he has had previous relationships with, doesn't bode well for Marisol and the longevity of her relationship with Eddie. How quickly it will end I can't say, just that it will end.

I spoke earlier in this post about colour theming for the episode and this is where I talk about it!

Pink - and in particular the very bright pinks we saw scattered across the episode. Marisol above wearing it, isn't just about connecting her to Ana in costume terms (especially as at this point that costume is a departure of her costumes from s6) it also connects her to the other characters we see wearing bright pink in this episode - Lola and Norman.

At this point in time I'm not sure if we're going to see it play out as a theme across the season, but its use in this episode was very loud on characters that are going to be around for more than 1 episode. It suggests that there is some underlying theme that connects them (by this I don't mean that they're gonna meet and hang out I mean that personality traits are going to be similar)

Magenta and bright pink in colour theory means a few different things, and like with all colours, has positive and negative traits. Generally speaking its a loud and brash colour thats designed to stand out and draw attention to it's wearer.

Things that are considered positive traits for this shade of pink are; intensity, acceptance, kindness and it's supportive and uplifting nature. It's connected to naive love (as in lust rather than the passionate and enduring love of red) can also be considered a nurturing colour.

Negative traits are; intensity, volatility, arrogant and impatient, irritability and irritating and frustration. it is also said to be a stress inducing colour and is said to be overly emotional.

Theres a clear and fairly loud connection between Lola and Norman getting into danger - Lola is in magenta trousers when she is kidnaped. Norman also has bright magenta flowers on his shirt at this point as well. My guess at this point is that we're supposed to lean into the stress inducing element, and also the irritating nature of the colour (On Athenas part at the very least!) and we'll see if those are the themes that play out for Marisol as well down the line.

Norman is in bright pink when he's lying and claiming she's unwell from being outside or too long. We also see that he is wearing pink in the ditsy print shirt later on (again I ran out of picture spaces!)

Athena's black top in this scene is much like the use of Chimney in black in his scenes. It's all about power and authority but it's also about her hiding her vulnerabilities. The other thing it does is creates a huge contrast with Bobby and all of the other passengers - she is the only one in black in the scene and it contrasts her with the underlying white of Bobbys shirt - juxtaposing them and visually putting them at odd with one another.

Like I said above about him becoming increasingly pale - here we see Bobby in a sea-foam green shirt - its the palest and washed out colour we've seen him in on this cruise (grey pyjama shirt not being included as its blink and you miss it and a pyjama tee!!!). Sea-foam green doesn't really play into the traditional meanings of green - there is still the element of renewal about it (the sea washes the sand etc)but its mostly a self-conscious and uncertain colour - both things that perfectly sum up how Bobby is feeling in this moment.

The other fun thing about this outfit is the palm tree shorts the patterns Bobby has worn in relation to this cruise, up to this point (and that includes the shirts from season 6) have all been tropical themed but on his shirts, the fact that they've now slipped down onto his shorts is a visual representation of him becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the way his honeymoon is going - that the tropical vacation vibes are slipping away.

Athenas red and white shirt, in my opinion is showing her cross purposes - its the duality of investigating and being on a cruise in a shirt. The bright red ties into the red and blue first responder colour way the show uses (for obvious reasons) while the white and the palm fronds, the lei flowers and the watery theming of the pattern fit into the troipical cruise they're on.

Bobbys red shirt contrasts with the lavender that we see on Athena - its not a colour we see on Bobby all that often and that makes its use all the more important. Especially considering the entire cruise thus far we've seen him in blues and greens - especially pale closer to pastel tones.

This red is bright snd bold and unlike his usual choices. Red is a colour of cross meaning - there is obviously the connection with love and the heart, which is absolutely at play her - his love for Athena is spurring him on and is part of what is pushing him in to investigator Bobby mode - and its representation of love is what is going to be the key player in the up coming episodes on the ship - when he is looking for Athena during the evacuation etc. But the other meaning of red is war, courage and anger and that is very much present here in this episode, and will (i'm assuming) be later on in 7x02 and 3.

The other thing I think its worth pointing out at this point (which is pure conjecture on my part at this moment in time but that I think will become relevant in the next two episodes rather than this one) is the foreshadowed parallel with Buck in season 5 when he broke down Eddies door. The bright red we saw him wearing then was an uncommon colour for him, in the same way it is for Bobby here. It's paralleling the way Buck was prepared to go into battle for Eddie, with the way Bobby is prepared to do so for Athena - going to war for your closest person, your loved one and doing what you need to do to save them.

Putting Athena in lavender the moment she gets to go into cop mode was a choice that had me giggling! Lavender is a colour of relaxation and order so for her to start wearing it the moment she gets to start being a cop again - speaks volumes for her state of being - it shows that her fear of being on the cruise ship and of being alone with bobby, has been overridden by her need to do her job and start investigating things. Its the perfect colour for this moment and for the impeding trouble brewing on the ship - Athena will bring order to things as order has been restored to her inner world.

Hopefully you've enjoyed this little canter through the costumes of 7x01 we're back in business and I can't wait to read your comments in the tags and comments 🥰

Tagging for those who've asked to be tagged - drop me a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the list for the next meta 😎

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mandzuking17 @spotsandsocks @loveyou2thecore @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @nathleigh @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @inandoutoffocus @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @lemotmo @bi-moonlight @satvojihusana @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @mongreloer @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud

[extremely-judgemental]

Subtext is completely lost in this fandom. I partly blame SJM for it. This is a rant from both reading and writing standpoint and leans towards the characters since I like to psychoanalyse them.

The one thing that tired me the most in these books is the excessive narration. I don’t mean the wordy description to support world-building but the never-ending monologues. SJM takes ‘show, don’t tell’ advice literally with the visual cues when it should apply to the characters and their personalities as well. Where subtext usually exposes depth of these characters and lets you decide who they are, SJM strips away that chance by writing it down for you word by word. The reason so many are going with 'in the book' argument is exactly this.

Here’s what I mean.

In real life, people don’t think linearly. They have an idea about themselves as much as they have about everyone else around them. There are self-imposed restrictions on their thoughts based on who they believe to be and who they strive to be. And it shows in their interaction with outside world. Say, when someone is ashamed of their actions, they will deny it for as long as possible. Someone who regrets something, they will sugarcoat it.

But in her books, her characters think clearly—way too clearly so that you latch onto the ideas she perpetuates. You don’t get to know them based on their thoughts, words, and actions, and see how these three support each other. You don't get a chance to draw conclusions as to if they are the hero/villain and good/evil based on their actions. If their behaviours match their words or if their choices are acceptable. Because SJM sets it in words for you. The characters come with a label beforehand. (Feyre, Rhysand and Inner Circle are good guys. Tamlin, Eris and Nesta, sometimes Lucien are evil.) It's why so many toxic and abusive themes are dismissed because it’s the 'good guy' or the 'morally grey guy’ who does it.

And so, her lead or ‘good’ characters fall flat since they have everything figured out. They know themselves inside out. They are never wrong about themselves, there’s no part they hide from themselves or the others. There’s nothing for you to read and identify the beauty or ugliness in the character. There’s no depth in them because they don’t contradict themselves, they don’t struggle to be someone they always believed to be. They don’t have to prove anything to themselves or others. They say what they think and they do what they say. They are very aware of their shortcomings and they all seem to know the exact consequences of their decisions.

Feyre doesn’t change in the three books. Her ‘rags to riches’ story doesn’t lead to much character growth. She starts out as an adamant, reckless child and ends up being arrogant, reckless woman with a crown. She doesn’t undergo a shift in personality but climbs up the social hierarchy. And that’s considered character development. Rhysand remains the same throughout. He starts out as a villain but later revealed as a good guy playing bad. Instead of growing into a hero—given his crimes, his ill deeds are negated with sympathetic backstory. And from there, it’s a flat line. There’s no growth.

In the end how does the character change in the aftermath of the events? Which of their beliefs are shattered and rebuilt? What is the emotional impact on the other characters? SJM does offer some closure on these regards but they are solely focused on a list of traumas and specific reactions set by SJM herself. And so readers refuse to think for themselves how these scenarios may play out and take the words relayed through the unreliable narrators who are essentially preaching SJM’s biases. Also, when they are so explicitly written down, there’s not much room for subtext. After going through pages and pages of justification, it tires you from using reason.

Even if we get past this (writing) flaw, there are other major issues. Story telling is a way of experiencing life. It helps build empathy, compassion and understanding of the world. Even in a fantasy book, when that world doesn’t exist, when the characters aren’t real, their journey are drawn from real life experiences. Relating to these characters is subjective and solely depends on the reader, but determining the rightness of their actions is not. This too is warped as SJM dictates which behaviour is acceptable and how far through her lead characters(Feyre vs Nesta imprisonment). Instead of allowing you to judge the choices, the verdict is spoon-fed through the ‘hero’. If the characters are forgiven, it’s not abuse. It’s a simple mistake. (It’s a mistake if it happens once and if there’s a changed behaviour after the apology.) If the characters are happy in the end, their acts are admissible. Unless SJM stamps the word ‘abuser’ and ‘bad guy’ in block letters herself(Tamlin), it's not even considered a possibility.

In short, ‘reading between the lines’ exists as long as it supports what the author preaches. When it contradicts ‘it’s in the books’. Logic is valid only if you use it to justify the fan favourites and applaud them. Empathy is conditional. Compassion is conditional. Critical thinking is so discouraged in this fandom that it’s pitiful.

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Alpha!Billy Hargrove X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Summary: It was hard to pretend that everything could just go back to normal once your best friend present as an Alpha and you knew you were doomed to become a Beta. But can one night change it all?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18 + Only. Language, talk of eating, bad mother figure, smoking depicted, friends to lovers, slight angst, crying, kissing. Omegaverse themes including: scent, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, mating

A/N: I have never written anything like this before but I love to read Omegaverse (guilty pleasure) please don’t hate me but constructive criticism is always welcome. 🧡💜

Stranger Things Master list

*~*~*~*~*~*

Something about today as you woke up just felt wrong. The sun lit the room through your window, bathing everything in its golden rays. You blink wearily against the light, pulling your baby blue comforter around your shoulders, something deep in your gut is begging to stay, to avoid the day like it and everyone in it didn’t exist; but the yelling from down stairs won’t allow it. So with no other choice you throw the covers to the foot of your bed and shuffle to your closet.

“Well about damn time.” You amble into the kitchen, meet not only with the sour look on your mother’s face but the almost permanent ring of smoke circling her head. Ignoring her you head straight for the fridge. The hinges creak, the small bulb illuminating the nearly empty shelves as you snatch up the brown paper bag.

“Listen, Jerry is taking me out later so I’m not gonna be home, fend for yourself. ” Her scratchy voice irritates you further, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who? Jerry? Have I met him?

“Okay.” You glance at her briefly, bright pink curlers standing out amongst her greying hair, her attention fixed on the newspaper and Virginia Slims in her hand. The hard lines around her lips have turned her face into a scowl, and you briefly wonder when the last time you saw her smile was.

A horn blares outside in a short pattern, giving you your cue to leave. You force yourself to hurry to the door flinging your pack over your shoulder and shoving your feet into your shoes.

The late summer sun has already started baking the little town, the dew on the grass chilling your ankles as you make your way to the blue Camaro. Music rattles the windows as the driver drums to the beat on the steering wheel. You can faintly make out his head bobbing, blond curls swaying with the movement.

You pull the door open and flop in ungraciously, letting your head fall back against the leather seat with a groan. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Billy laughs from beside you as he starts to reverse out of your drive way, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“Nothin’ good about it.” You mumble, only loud enough for him to hear over his music.

He glances at you fully, focusing on the bags under your eyes, how your skin is slightly paler than usual. You’re dressed simply in an old black shirt with your favorite jeans, the jeans you almost always wear because you’ve ‘broken them in just right’.

“You feeling okay?” Billy flicks off his music as he peels off down the backroad towards school, the long way.

You let your head lull to the side, managing a small smirk at the fact that you two had unknowingly coordinated your outfits, yet again. Though he fills his shirt out more, the arms tight on his biceps just how he likes, the bottom tucked into his jeans military style. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird.” You make a face, focusing back on the road watching the green trees zip by. The leaves are starting to brown, a result of being at the highest point of summer.

Billy pulls his own face, propping his elbow on the door, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, twirling it between his fingers. “Weird how? Like sick weird, throw up weird, period weird-.”

You groan again cutting him off, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “Just weird. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Wanna play hooky?” It’s a genuine question and you like the idea of it, a lot, but you shake your head.

“No. It’s the day before break and if they find out you’re skipping again you’ll get a detention.” Billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue because he knows you’re right.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, letting you doze off for a few more precious moments before the engine dying startles you awake. You sit up straighter, running your fingers through your hair as you glance around, suddenly catching Billy’s unwavering stare.

“What’s that smell?”

A look of horror crosses your features, suddenly grabbing your shirt to bring to your nose. “What smell? I smell?”

“No, no, no. like… did you get a new perfume?” You shake your head slowly, watching him try to piece together in his head what it could be. “It smells good, like really good.” But he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is, so he leans closer, sniffing the air around you.

“God you’re weird.” You laugh, smushing his face with your palm as you push him away. You grab your bag as he mutters under his breath, reaching behind the seat for his own. You both step out onto the gravel parking lot, other student milling about making their way towards either the high school or the middle school next door. You start to walk off, expecting Billy to follow only to have your arm tugged back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, wait.” Billy looms over you slightly, making you crane your neck to keep eye contact. You still weren’t entirely use to that new aspect. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We really haven’t hung out outside of school since…” He trails off, looking at you hopefully and you feel your muscles tighten, prepared to give an excuse.

It’s been months since Billy presented as an Alpha, months since everything between the two of you had suddenly shifted. On top of the ego and hot attitude he already possessed, people suddenly expected more of him, respected him like they hadn’t before. An Alpha in a town run by Betas.

Coming from a family of all Betas, watching your best friend become suddenly so… important made your insides tent with green jealousy. As happy as you wanted to be for him you felt yourself pull away, not wanting to stand in his shadow.

“I don’t-.”

“Look, it’s still me, Y/n. It’s still just Billy. We can grab dinner, watch movies, I’ll even do those stupid mud masks if you want just… just come over.” Please. Billy was never one to beg, but for you he made an exception. He had a soft side he kept behind mean words and cruel actions, and only you were privy to it.

Sighing you glance at the ground, analyzing the different sized rocks and tuffs of grass that managed to grow between them. The yellow dandelions turning their faces to the sky. “Okay… I’ll think about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

By lunch time you’ve progressively gotten worse, your body on autopilot as you move at a snails pace from class to class. Even most of your teachers have noticed, their honor student with her tired eyes, deciding to keep their questions for the rest of the class as you struggle to keep up. Currently you sit slumped over your food, your head in your hands, eyes closed and focusing on your breathing.

In your head you’re over thinking everything it could be, from the mild to the extreme. The flu to an aneurism, a common cold to a heart attack. Your paranoia latching on and prying deep. It’s only when you feel a presence creep up on you, no his presence, does something in your chest relax, letting your body shake off the unease.

“Hey, dolly.” Billy’s voice is warm and heavy when he drops into the seat beside yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you into his side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming, and it’s different, not the usual one he wears or the one you gifted him for his birthday. Pine, and leaves, and rain but something underneath that is entirely him.

“Hey.” You lean into his touch, your muscles relaxing and a soft sigh slipping past your lips. You don’t bother opening your eyes, just pressing your cheek into his chest, breathing him in.

Billy watches you, the soft lines in your face, the curve of your lips. Something in his brain demands to protect, the impulse so raw that it takes him by surprise. He tightens his grip on you, little to your notice.

“Still not feeling good?” You only shake your head in response. “Still thinking about coming over later?”

Yes.

It’s all you have been able to think about. It wasn’t like you had never spent the night with Billy before, either at his place or your own. That wasn’t what was bothering you.

You’d just never been alone with an Alpha. You’ve only meet three in Hawkins, the chief being one of them, and the other two married and mated. You’d heard the rumors that young Alphas were far more aggressive, unable to restrain themselves if their instincts took over, it was preached in every health class.

But what if he’s right? What if you’re just over reacting?

“Yeah, I’ll come over… but only if we go to Bennys tonight.”

Billy chuckles, and it’s a deep noise against your ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy had made good on his promise.

He took you straight from school to the Family Video in town, letting you pick out whatever you wanted with the promise that it wasn’t going to be sad.

Then it was on to the little five and dine, Bennys, the one that has your favorite pancakes and fruit salad. He blared the mix tape you had made months ago, despite your groaning, feeling accomplished when he caught you nodding along.

The house is empty and dark, Billy explaining that Neil had taken Max and Susan off somewhere for the week, as the two of you bring in everything from the car. He flicks on the lights as you drop onto the couch, rubbing your clammy palms against the front of your jeans.

Billy hums softly as he walks around the small living room, setting down the movies and food on the low coffee table. He glances over at you, your face pinched, lip caught between your teeth, and leg bouncing a mile a minute.

“Dolly.” Your eyes snap to his, a little wide at the curt clip of his tone. Billy stops in front of you, holding out his hand, watching as you shakily take it, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I think I should go home, really I just feel-.”

“Weird. I know.” He ducks his head slightly, searching your face with sympathetic eyes, “But we’re gonna get it figured out. I want you to go grab a shirt from my closet, get on something comfortable and come back in here.”

His expression leaves no room for argument, so you do as you’re told. His room is lit only by the small desk lamp, but you know you could find your way around in total darkness. Billy always leaves your favorite shirt in the same place in the closet, the stained grey one that reaches the middle of your thighs and hangs loosely about your frame. Leaving your jeans and shoes pooled by the foot of his bed, you steal a look at yourself in his mirror and cringe. You look as tired as you feel, shoulders slumped, ghostly complexion like you’d never seen the sun before.

You turn away with a disgruntled grunt. When you come back out the living room is dark again, the tv and kitchen light your only guide as you pad across the burnt orange carpet. You step around the couch, avoiding the gym equipment laying against the wall so as to not stub your toes like you are prone to do when you are over.

Billy’s dumped fresh popcorn into a giant blue bowl, a snack he knows you can never resist, as he meets you in the arch way. He smiles down at you as he passes the dish over and turns you back towards the couch. Throw blankets are pulled out over the cushions and the tape is already playing through the advertisements. Your meals are set up on your respective ends of the table and you feel something in your heart tighten painfully.

“See, just like old times.”

And he was right.

The night crept away filled with laughter, food, and cheesy horror movies that had you groaning more than trembling. Half way through the first one you’re both complaining about the terrible quality and laughing at the others jokes. Half way through the second you’re throwing popcorn into the air to see who can catch the most while gossiping about the latest ‘Small Town Scandal’.

By the end of the third you’re curled into Billy’s side, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you struggle to keep your eyes open. He’s warm with his arm tucked around your shoulders, and his heart beat is steady against your ear. It lulls you in and out of sleep as the credits begin to roll.

“Billy…” You whisper, poking him in the side with your finger.

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

He groans and starts to sit up, helping you with a hand on your back. “Next time I pick the movies.” You both sluggishly move to his room, crawling under the grey covers of his full sized bed.

“Told you.” He mumbles, sleep making his voice deep and gravelly. “Right as rain.” You only give a small grunt though a smile pulls at your lips as you nestle under the covers, surrendering easily to the peaceful sleep that over comes you.

For a few hours at least.

*~*~*~*~*~*

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here, but here you are, curled in on yourself on the cold tile of Billy’s ugly green bathroom going into heat.

A heat you aren’t supposed to be having.

Tears steadily stream over your pink painted cheeks as you hug the side of the bathtub, another burning cramp sending a rush of pain through every nerve in your body.

It’s as if someone has doused you gasoline and struck a match. Your body burns from the inside out with an intensity you’d never felt before, the cramps in your lower stomach hurling you into the fetal position as the continue to seize your body. But above it all was the ache between your thighs. Your sex pulsed and squeezed, fogging your thoughts through the waves of arousal soaking your panties and dripping down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Why is there so much?

You desperately try to think about anything you’ve learned over the years about Omegas and their heats, but all you can focus on is the ache in your body. What good are you as a straight A student if you can’t remember a simple health class?

You groan, pitchy and breathless, trying to muffle the noise by biting into your lip. Subconsciously, you’re praying that something, anything, anyone, would save you from this hell as you sob harder, another cramp slicing through your abdomen.

“Y/n?” Billy’s voice floats through the wooden door and you freeze, even the tremors in your muscles stop momentarily. You don’t dare make a sound, don’t even breath as you wait, hoping it’s your imagination until the white door rattles under his knuckles. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in…”

Your head snaps up, eyes landing on the unlocked brass handle and you nearly slip on the small rug in your efforts to get up. A fresh wave of pain seizes your body with a whine as the door swings open.

The low amber light illuminates him against the dark hallway, his curly hair tussled from sleep, pressed down on one side. He’s only wearing those annoyingly short gym shorts, his bronze skin and large frame on display. His chest is rising and falling quickly, like he’d just ran miles to get here.

Billy had woken to that same scent from earlier pelting his senses, stronger, and all fully feminine. Lavender and vanilla and lilac but earthy and natural and purely his. It covered his sheets and comforter and filled his room. He followed it straight to the bathroom, his wolf guiding him more than himself and now he’s entranced, bewitched even as he stares down at you.

Your cheeks are wet, hair teased like you’d been pulling on it. The shirt you are wearing is soaked with cold sweat, and he can smell your slick, making his mouth water.

A deep rumbling growl escapes from his chest before he can even register it’s happening, pulling a submissive whimper from you as you drop onto the edge of the tub, staring wide eyed like a lost puppy. He takes a step closer and you flinch involuntarily, embarrassed and horrified this was all happening right here, right in front of him as your wrap your arms around your center.

“I… I need to go home, Billy.” Your voice is uneven and octaves higher, your chest constricting with each painful breath as your watery eyes drop away from his smoldering gaze. Billy couches down in front of you on the shaggy bath mat, wrapping a large palm around the back of your calf. He gives the tense muscle a firm squeeze, trying to ground you in anyway he can as you whimper and squirm, his presence worsening the pain.

This is what Alphas do to Omegas, unknowingly spur this heat into overdrive.

Billy takes a steadying breath, licking his lips, and searches your tear streaked face. “You’re in heat, little Omega…” It’s like his words amplify everything by ten and your suddenly teetering on the edge of the tub, your hands flying out for support as a wave of pain makes you cry out.

Your palms land on his chest as you finally drag your gaze to his, his blue irises hooded with that animalistic need, mirroring your own. “I don’t… understand… why?” You pant, his scent intoxicating making you lean in, unable to get enough.

Billy only shakes his head, pressing in closer, spreading your knees around his waist as his hand travels up to your thigh. “You’re presenting, it’s going to be okay.” Billy’s other hand finds your hip, and it takes every last bit of concentration you have to focus on him as your sex pulses with need, demanding attention.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… it hurts so bad…” Your voice breaks, shaking harshly as your hands slip up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer without a thought because he feels so good, so right against your skin as his width presses your thighs farther apart. Billy doesn’t stop you either, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your fingers tangling into the hair at the back of his neck. Your scent is over powering at this proximity, his grip tightening on your body to control himself.

He coos lightly, his eyes dropping to your lips, specifically your plump lower one now darkening as a bruise forms in the shape of your teeth. “I know baby, I’m here, I’m going to help you.”

“How?” You croak, the uncertainty in your voice stabbing Billy in the chest.

“You trust me right?” He drops his voice to a whisper, his body flush with your own, hands slowly skimming up your body to rest against your neck. You swallow thickly, before nodding. Billy leans forward, closing off that last little bit of distance with a testing kiss.

Need shoots through you, stronger that ever and you respond hungrily. Your arms slip fully around his neck, sliding off of the tub with a desperate moan. Instinct takes over, your submissiveness showing as you open yourself to him, Billy’s tongue licking into your mouth as the kiss turns more wild.

Billy stands, holding you easily with two large hands cupping your ass, as he turns heading for the door. Your legs wrap around his waist, humming into the kiss as he bumps into a wall, his steps uneven as he makes his way into his bedroom.

You gasp for breath as he lowers you both onto the bed, his weight warm and welcoming. “Pretty Omega, my sweet girl.” His lips tickle your ear as he leans in, his hands fisting the blankets by your head as he starts to leave the bed. You whine loudly, your legs locking around his hips forcefully. Billy chuckles, a deep sound that makes your back bow up. “Gotta let go, let me up honey.”

“Please…” You beg, “Don’t leave me, Alpha.” It is the first time you have ever used his new title, his pounding heart going into double time. He shifts his weight, cupping your face with one hand, as your squirm. You desperately try to rut your hips against his, the feeling of having him so close but not close enough making your chest constrict and your head spin.

Somewhere in the back of your lust addled brain you knows you should be embarrassed, your desperation turning you into someone you’re not. But the new beast prowling under your skin refuses to let that happen. She knows just what she wants and will have it.

“I’m right here baby, but you’ve got to let me help you. You can do that, can’t you?” Billy’s words are laced with a calming purr, thumb swiping carefully over your lips, catching on the bottom one and pulling it down slightly. Only when you nod, your limbs relaxing around him, does he let it go with a soft plop. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t bother with formalities, instead gripping the collar of the old t-shirt in both hands and tugging. He rips the worn material down the center, making you yelp in surprise. He’s more forgiving with your panties, fingers dipping below the elastic as he tugs them down your legs. The pale purple cotton is drenched with your slick, turning the color a dark shade that makes him moan at the sight. Billy tosses them over his shoulder carelessly, fixing his attention on your trembling body laid out before him.

“You’re so wet, just fucking drenched.” You jump and moan as he swipes a finger through your puffy lips, watching as your cunt squeezes around air. He wasn’t lying when he said you were drenched, your slick glistening off of your thighs, slipping down the curve of your ass to his bedsheets. The sight alone is enough to have him throbbing painfully in the confines of his shorts.

He can’t help himself as he starts to play with your pussy, barely dipping his long fingers between your lips before dragging them up to your clit. He circles the bud slowly, watching in awe as you respond so eagerly, head thrown back loud moans filling the space around you. You cry an abundance of pleas, his name mixed with any other words you can manage to string together. Your hips rock to take his fingers deeper each time he circles your opening, face scrunched with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Finally pulling himself away from your body, Billy nearly shreds his shorts in his haste to get rid of them. His cock springs free with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as his head drops back. It’s pulsing and uncomfortably hard, beads of milky precum roll down his thick shaft, catching in the corse blond hair at the base.

“Look at me, Omega.” His demand washes over you, compelling you the only way and Alpha can, to do as your told. You lift your head, dazed eyes settling on his handsome face. His kiss swollen lips are parted slightly, eyes wild with need as his gaze consumes you. You never felt more exposed and yet safe at the same time.

Then your eyes flicker lower.

You let loss a wavering moan, fingers curling into the covers as you openly stare. Billy smiles, enjoying the way you follow his hand as he wraps it around himself, pumping his shaft slowly. He’s big, bigger than you would of imagined him to be. His fingers barely wrapping around his girth and if you want to be honest with yourself it’s intimidating.

“Billy… I’ve never…” He climbs onto the bed between your thighs, rough hands slipping down your skin, squeezing the supple fat under his fingertips.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you.” Billy leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, distracting kiss. Your eyes fall shut, arms slipping around his shoulders as he slowly aligned himself with your entrance. He presses forward and you gasp against his lips. The thick mushroom head squeezes in with a soft pop, breaching your walls and already making you feel so full and empty all at once.

Billy’s hand makes it’s way down to your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open as he drives his hips forward. He moans loudly, pressing his forehead against yours as he stills, a little under halfway inside you. “Takin’ me-fuck- you’re takin’ me so well.”

Your nails are digging into his skin, leaving big red lines in their wake as you try to hold onto something. You’d feel bad under normal circumstances if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it so much. Billy’s lips find your neck, nuzzling the underside of your jaw, and trailing down to your shoulder. He’s breathing you in between sloppy kisses, your scent somehow sweeter than before.

“Please… please Billy.” Your leg hooks around his hips to encourage him to move and with one finally thrust he bottoms out into your spasming cunt. Your head presses back into the mattress, a low moan rattling out of your chest as the feeling of it all washes over you. You’re stuffed full, his weight bearing down on you, but for the first time in hours you feel a sense of calm settle into your bones. You were made for him, made just for this.

Billy lifts his head, your eyes catching in the dim light, and he gives you a lopsided smile. He pulls nearly completely out before filling you up again. You cry out his name, voice cracking on the syllables.

“That’s right baby, just like that.” Your walls flutter around his cock, his thrusts evening out as he finds his pace. Your hips rock to meet his, soft noises falling from your lips to accompany the harsh moans leaving him. The head of his cock is kissing your cervix, bringing in an entirely different kind of pain with the pleasure.

“Alpha… please… gonna cum!” Your fingers find his hair, tugging harshly as your body shakes harder. Billy slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing clit. You scream as your orgasm washes over your body so quickly it leaves you dizzy, your release gushing and coating his cock.

“Fuuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth bared as he fucks you through it. Your cunt trying to milk his own from him as he picks up his pace. You sob loudly, tears rolling down your temples as your hands slip to his sides, urging him not to stop.

“Please… Alpha… I uhh-.”

He slams into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You’re so pretty on my cock, I just want to keep you here. Fuck your like this for the rest of my life.” His hand skims up to your abdomen, he presses down ever so slightly and you gasp, hips bucking at the sudden pressure. “This pussy was made just for that wasn’t it? Made just for me.”

Billy pulls out at a maddeningly slow drag, your cunt fighting to keep him in as he rubs along every right spot, making pleasure bloom at the base of your spine and radiate outwards. Only the tip of his cock rests between your folds, anticipation and excitement humming adding to the trembling of your limbs.

“Tell me baby.” Billy mumbles, cupping the back of your neck, squeezing and lifting you up from the mattress slightly. Your eyes lazily slide open, a languid smile spreading across your face that makes him falter. His heart suddenly beats impossibly faster, all of his thoughts flying from his brain except one.

This girl is mine.

“S-so good, ba-baby… d-don’t stop.” You stutter out between chattering teeth, hips rocking up taking him a few centimeters deeper.

Billy growls lowly pushing in all the way before pulling back out, he falls forward, bending you nearly in half as he cages you in. His mouth finds yours, sloppy and clashing teeth as his hips piston against yours, driving himself impossibly deeper as you cry and moan for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” He pants, lips skimming along your cheek, past your slack jaw and to your throat, nuzzling the delicate area where he can see your pulse pounding. “Always knew you’d feel this good.”

“B-Billy… Billy I’m gonna…” With each thrust your orgasm draws closer, pushing you to the limits of your pleasure, head tossed back and toes curling as you cling to him. Your cunt squeezes around him, pulsing rhythmically, letting him know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come Y/n, I’m gonna fuck you full of me and you’re going to take it all, are you? Gonna let me breed you, baby?” Billy isn’t graced with a reply, instead your body draws taught against his as you scream his name. Your orgasm rushes over you, washing any sense from your brain as your hips buck against his, and it’s his undoing.

Billy bottoms out, rope after rope of thick cum spilling into your spasming pussy, his knot swelling and locking you in place as he ruts into you. You can feel each pulse, and twitch, his spend filling you and sedating that insatiable need for the time being. Your body relaxes into his, that smile never leaving your lips.

“My Omega.” He whispers against your skin, teeth dragging and scratching your skin as he fights himself, his wolf demanding to lay its claim. “I need you.” He breaths, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time morning seeps in through the blinds, neither of you have slept. Currently your laid out on his chest, the sheet draped over your backside as his seed fills your cunt. Billy’s hand is imbedded in your hair, the other on your hip, gripping you to him as he moans into the air.

It takes several minutes, and by the time his grip slackens there’s a small bulge in your abdomen. You’re blinking lazily, the haze of the night slowly clearing itself from your mind. “Billy?”

“Yes, baby?” His heart beat is evening out, the rhythmic thump seeping into your body.

You swallow, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. His eyes are closed, head tilted back relaxed against the pillows. His palm rubs up and down your side, gentle and calm.

Sometime during the night, between lust filled spurts of need, you had felt the mark. Your fingers had traced over the raised indents his teeth had left, several times. The realization that you were mated to your best friend hitting you like a crushing pile of bricks, and yet…

“We’re mated.” You whisper, feeling his chest stutter slightly. He clears his throat, the hand in your hair twitching slightly.

“I should of asked you. I’m sorry.” His voice holds a note of something you can’t place, his eyes are still closed, refusing to look at you. You sit up slowly, his knot still firmly in place, moaning a little at the feeling. That grabs his attention. Billy’s gaze snags on your face, where he finds your softly smile and gentle eyes.

“There are worse people to be mated with, I suppose.” Billy smiles, his hands resting on your hips, his grip firm and comforting.

“Definitely, could of been Danny.” You shudder at the thought of Billy’s little minion of a friend and he laughs loudly. “Come’er.” You happily oblige, kissing him slowly, pouring yourself into him as he does the same. Everything falling into the perfect rhythm.

There are definitely worse ways to find your forever.