#girl the right hates you what are you doing? aside from carving out a place in the “most insufferable type of centrist” category

[silversiren1101]

Br!@nna Wu, of all people, outing herself as a truscum terf self-proclaimed zionist was not on my 2024 bingo card

[stromuprisahat]

Question: how do you justify what the darkling did to Genya, Alina and Nikolai? I don’t even mean this to sound rude, but I’m just genuinely curious how you just brush past that when you say the Darkling never did anything he’d have to apologize for 🙃

I'd start with stating that I don't like the word "justify". Google says its meaning is "to show or prove to be right or reasonable", which to me sounds like something that's expected whenever you're about to do something that might offend or hurt anyone. Like pre-made apology you owe people even though you might not have anything to apologize for in the end.

It's really about lack of better words. Czech dictionary translates "justify" as "odůvodnit" or "ospravedlnit", out of which the first one is strictly without that moral baggage. Closer to "give reason".

Aleksander's actions are often perceived out of context, as malicious crimes he committed for his own enjoyment, or whatever suits the antis best, while there are plenty of factors we shouldn't fail to consider.

Ravka- The country he loves, even though it doesn't love him. Rarely peaceful- according to Shadow and Bone, current wars last for over a century. Drained by both its neighbours, split in two for long enough it's pretty unbelievable the West is only planning to secede, poor, with ruling class, who doesn't care and has no reason to.

Grisha- From outright hated to respected, but in constant danger anywhere else, Aleksander manged to carve out a place for them under conditions. The Crown allows Grisha to live right on its backyard (to better keep an eye on), safely train and serve as soldiers or servants of noble houses, as long as they're useful, but... also has no need or intention to take it further. Grisha are glorified, envied serfs in fancy clothes. They're used by monarchy, despised and distrusted by masses, as proved by several little things throughout the first book and instant pogroms once the Fold moves (And don't forget there were no survivors- no true witnesses-, aside from few of the Darkling's people.).

His own lives' experience- Let's be honest- centuries of watching his people- however close- die, drawbacks, betrayals, constantly repeating history... gives one quite a perspective. It's a miracle the Darkling is merely numb and tired, yet somehow hardly unfeeling. Unlike the young heroes he possesses enough self-control not to start begging, crying, screaming... He's lashing out, when he has a reason to believe it won't bite him in the ass, he's petty and hurts others, punishing them for hurting him.

setting- Forget 21st century morality. If we're talking about 19th century-esque world, it wouldn't only have fancy nobles, dashing princes to play pirates privateers and masses of uneducated peasants. The reason people think the way they do is they got there somehow. Ravka still has servitude, for gods' sake! Lives don't matter the way people want them to today! It won't be only about some being rich and some poor, there should be huge differences depending on one's circumstances of birth, bloodlines, wrongs or slights generations old... I'm aware we're suppose to pretend Alina get a pass, because she's "Living Saint", but for example slapping a member of royalty should cost her. Bastard or not, you let it slide once, and next thing you know people are getting ideas and building guillotines.

Now to your question:

Genya is the easiest. She got punished for disobeying direct order, betraying the Darkling for a girl she hardly knew and who was too self-involved to truly act like the friend Genya for some reason suddenly feels her to be.

Aleksander let Genya close enough to be considerably honest around her, at least regarding his intentions with Lantsovs. Dangerous thing to do for a man in his position (and although I have my theories, this reply is no place for them). That's why he made it personal. She didn't only abandon their cause, she hurt him, so he took what she valued most about herself, fitting his revenge into her expectable punishment.

He could've had her whipped. To death even. Instead he chose more personal approach.

Alina's the messiest, because way too many feelings got involved and Aleksander's shit in handling those. His only lasting relationship is his abusive mother, others tend to die on him. Alina's a personification of a dream. Someone to keep him company for the rest of eternity. A companion he longed for for so long, he's not able to handle the bitter truth. I don't think he ever considered his "One and Only Equal" might not be interested in his goals and while he might rationally understand Alina's so much younger, he quickly loses his patience and decides to speed up her development because her young self is interfering with his general plans.

Now, while younger Aleksander might have been more passionate, he was never allowed the luxury of recklessness or even childhood, as a consequence of which he has no idea how to handle hormonal teenagers. Alina's worldview is incredibly narrow and she has several mental mechanisms to prevent her from changing that, while Aleksander's living in constant paranoia, possibility of fight or flight 24/7. They're incompatible the way they are- Alina unwilling to change, Aleksander too rigid and lacking the luxury of choice- yet in each other's way too much to merely split up. The Darkling needs the Sun Summoner as a tool and a symbol, and as long as he breathes, Alina won't have a chance to regain her beloved anonymity.

What he did to her?

The Collar was his hand forced. Unreliable deserter possessing the power he needed to ensure ceasefire.

What else is there that couldn't be explain by simple "They're on opposite sides of a conflict."?

The only other moment that comes to my mind is him burning down the orphanage, one of my favourites. The situation is thus:

The Darkling occupies the Throne (Yay!), but he lacks wide support, numbers and resources, therefore he's forced to rule by fear, which is no way to go, when he wants to build future, where Grisha are accepted. Who does have the love of masses, is an undeserving "Saint" and rogue prince, starving his own people, while being cheered on for it, because he's thwarting the Darkling at the same time. I'll ignore Nikolai for now. So, how do you catch a single person, who could be hiding anywhere, with help from anyone, while you can count on no one? You make them come to you. You make them show themselves under circumstances you control.

Alina already fled slaughter of others three times, one she even directly caused. She might pretend to be a do-gooder, but she truly cares only about herself and her otkazat'sya past. Threatening Malyen already proved to be fruitful, but that one's out of Aleksander's reach, so he tries the next best thing. Destroying her "home". There's also poetry in it- he lost his mother for Alina, it's only fair she'd lose hers. As a symbol of the past Alina's so stubbornly clinging to, there's even some chance it WILL really hurt her, which is certainly plus for his vengeful self.

Eventually it proves to be ruthless, simple and utterly brilliant. Alina falls for his threat and meets him in the Fold.

It's a beautiful example of sacrificing a few (The Grisha teachers probably stayed with the children for their sake, and residents of the orphanage were also just doing their jobs as far as we know.) to end civil war and bring the other side to heel. Ravka wasn't able to handle two-front war, opening third one was insanity and I'm genuinely surprised the country didn't fall (or that West didn't use it to finally free itself from East). With Alina's power under control the Darkling could've attempted "Peace or the Fold" again, perhaps even succeed this time.

And then we have Nikolai.

Second-born Lantsov thwarting his plans, proposing "his" Sun Summoner, loved by masses and army alike because unlike Aleksander, he's otkazat'sya. Goals? Same. Positions? Incomparable. Willingness to give everything? Yes for both.

In better world, they could've been allies. One easily accepted, the other highly experienced. But the story doesn't want that, so Nikolai is serious contender and an obstacle in Aleksander's way to "Fine, I'll do it myself.". He needs to be gone. Killing him would be easiest and most permanent, but Kolya fucked up, when he made it personal.

Tricking the Darkling, shooting him, proposing to his "not"gf, evacuating royal family AND Baghra, starving his forces once Darkles sits on the throne... taking away Nikolai's most valuable quality, while keeping him conscious enough to comprehend it is the way to go!

There's also a POV that says showing your essence down your rival's throat to irrecoverably change him might be seen as a romantic gesture or outright foreplay, but I happen to be a Fannibal, so I'm aware the majority of Grishaverse fans might find my ideas of romance a bit harder to digest (pun absolutely intended).

To sum up: Most of the Darkling's actions corresponds with his position of 19th century-esque war general and revolutionary attempting Coup to save his bankrupt country, while hated by masses and lacking resources. Plus a drop of clever, petty vindictiveness.

(And whole bucket of bad writing, because there are things that just DON'T MAKE SENSE- both regarding worldbuilding and characterisation.)

[ambcass]

ᴛᴇxᴛ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ || ᴊᴀɪᴍᴇ ʀᴇʏᴇꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

a/n: thank you all for your requests! A lot of the fic is in my drafts rn but I can squeeze in a few more. if u see this, feel free to request smth :) THIS IS MY FIRST DARK FIC

MDNI! DEAD DOVES DON'T EAT

tags: Yandere! Jaime, swearing, female reader, helpless reader, kidnapping, angst, fluff if you squint your eyes, obsessive praise (if that makes sense), drugging, needles, fight scenes, knife, blood, PET NAMES USED (babe, baby, good girl, pretty, ect.) NO HAPPY ENDING😊. OUT OF CHARACTER BEHAVIOR

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Jaime loves you so much. He tells you every day how much he can't live without you being in his life. He clings to you like a lost puppy. Following you where ever you're headed. He tries to calm down when you're talking to another guy. Hell, he hates it even more when that guy you're talking to is one of his friends. After your conversation with Bart ended, Jaime walked up to you two and asked you to wait as he pulled Bart aside before coming back. Ever since Bart doesn't speak a word towards you. You obviously knew your boyfriend had something to do with it.

Later that night you guys had an argument. Like all arguments, he says things like “you wouldn’t leave me if you didn’t care.” , “Where’s the old you”, “C’mon my love, don’t act like this.” You always stayed. He said you were the problem and you believed him. You wanted to change, just for him. Not last night though. He sang the same song but you took it from a different approach. You spoke about possessive he’s been acting but he says that “it’s for your own good.”

You stormed out his house with so much frustration flowing through your body. Should of waited until the morning. You walked out his home and into the cold, dark night. Suddenly your phone kept buzzing. You opened it and it’s Jaime begging you to come back. Pleading you to not leave him but you don’t answer.

My Beetle💙: Eres tan dramatica! (You’re so dramatic) You know I just wnat the best for you… please baby text me back❤️

you ignored him. A few minutes later, your phone rings again.

My Beetle💙: I miss you bebe.

ignored again. At this point you were back home, lying on your bed. It got hot, really hot, but you had no AC nor a fan. Best idea you came up was to open your windows, wide. The air ran through your hair like a Disney princess singing a love song. Once more, your phone rings. This time you took a peak at the message.

My Beetle💙: Stop being for difficult for me. Don’t make me get you myself.

You didn’t think much into it. He has never physically hurt you. So you ignored it and went to sleep. What a mistake you made.

You next woke up to beeping and metal softly clashing to each other. Slowly opening your eyes, a head of dark blue and bright, glowing yellow eyes stared at you. You were about to scream for help but this figure covered your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth. You kicked its stomach, rolled out your bed, and ran straight for the door. Before could run out, you turned back around to glance at your bed. He disappeared from your view and nowhere to be seen

I can run now, you thought. You turned back to the door and POW. A punch directly to the face. You fell to the ground. You, knocked up, on the cold bare floor. Your vision was blurry but you felt two fingers pulled your eyelids down to close them. Before you were completely out, you felt yourself being dragged by foot off to somewhere.

Once you woke up and your vision was starting to clear up, it didn’t take you a long time to realize that you were tied up to a chair in an empty room. You tried breaking free but the ropes were too tight. You shouted,

“Help me! Someone please…” Foot steps slowly creeped behind you. That gradually got louder and louder, until they stopped. You felt a presence lean behind you. Then a tip of a knife was then placed right beside your lip.

“Nu uh. Don’t speak sweetheart, unless you want me to carve this pretty little mouth into pieces” This tender, chilling voice could only belong to one person.

“J-jaime!?” Before you knew it, your cheek to slashed. You didn’t scream but you cried. Cried like a little baby with blood oozing out of you and dripping on the floor. Jaime circled around you until you met your gaze. He lifted your chin.

“Let’s take a look at you, shall we?” He pulled out a white paper napkin and started to wipe the dripping blood from your cheek. “Isn’t that much better, mi amor?” Tears were flooding down your eyes. You had so many emotions packed up but you knew you couldn’t show them. The consequences may cost your life.

He whipped out another napkin and wiped your tears for you. “It’s okay pretty, you’re safe with me…” he wrapped your head around his arms and held you close to him.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jaime lets go. The blood on your cheek stained on to his shirt. He bends down and kisses your wounded cheek.

“Well, my sweet girl didn’t want to listen to me. She didn’t understand how much I wanted to protect her. She insisted on talking to some other guy but me-“ you cut him off before he could finish.

“He’s your best friend! And I’ve known him longer than you did. I don’t know why-“ you tried to prove your point but he slapped you for cutting him off. Left a red handprint on your face.

“You need to learn how to be a good girl for me,” Jaime said in heartless tone. “So the two of us will just spend some quality’s time with each other. For a very long time.” He smirked when he saw you shake your head nonstop. He had the apprehend here. He had full control of you now. He pulled out a needle with some type of drug in it.

“Please Jaime, I’m sorry. I’ll never talk to any guy but you. Don’t do this, I love you.” You pleaded him to stop but he doesn’t. He slowly circled behind you. He brushed his fingertips starting with your head to your arms. He moved your hair aside and kissed your neck softly. You were so focused on this caring side of him, you failed to notice the fact that he was injecting that needle into your immune system. You got tired. Very tired. Your eyesight slowly blurred up as you fluttered eyes more frequently.

“You’ll be good as new when you wake up, I promise” was the last thing you heard from Jaime before it was all black. Last thing your own conscious heard and felt anything.

[kittyt-hexxed]

Forget About Your Ex

Sub!Abby Anderson x Dom!Reader

Warnings: Brat!Abby, Angry sex, Rough sex, Knife play, Carving your name into her skin, Sadism/Masochism, Slapping, Degradation, Insults, Bruises, Fighting, Strap-on use, Throat Fucking, Hair pulling, Establishing a Dom/sub relationship, Friends to Lovers

Summary: You’ve always had issues with Owen. There was something about him you didn’t like, and that only got worse when you found out he was leading Abby on. You hated him. Then, Mel told you she was pregnant and tensions rise among the group. An argument with Abby leads to you taking your frustrations out on each other.

You glare across the room at the man that has your best friend’s heart in a chokehold. If anyone asked you who you hated the most in your group, it would be Owen. To you, he was such a fucking sleazeball that you wanted to punch him every time he was next to you. You knew Abby was next to you chatting with a girl who was hoping to hook up with her. Unfortunately, with her still pinning after Owen, not a single person has had the opportunity. Those girls usually ended up in your bed by the end of the night, not that you minded. What you really cared about was the fact that Abby was getting her heart played. Mel had pulled you aside at the start of the party to let you know that she was pregnant and the flames of hell ignited inside of you. She begged you not to tell Abby, and you only agreed because if Abby found out right now it would destroy her. You owed Mel nothing after you’ve seen how she treats Abby, but you owe Abby.

A tap on your shoulder has you turning around to see Nora and Leah behind you. They grab your arms and drag you away to a corner of the room despite your protests. They place you against the wall and stand in front of you to block your view of Owen, making you huff and cross your arms.

“You seemed really angry over there, Y/n.” Nora smirks, crossing her arms, “What’d Owen do to you?”

“Come on girls, you know why I’m angry. I’m sure Mel told the two of you as well.”

“She did.” Leah nods, “I’m just as pissed off but I’m not glaring Owen into an early grave. I know what he’s doing to them isn’t right, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Now that there’s a baby on the way, that makes everything more complicated.” Nora sighs, glancing over her shoulder, “I’ve tried talking to Abby about moving on from him, but she won’t hear it.”

“I did the same with Mel before she told me that she was pregnant. She insisted that it was because Abby wouldn’t back off, not that it was Owen being a dick.”

“It makes me so angry.” You sigh, deflating, “I’ve tried so hard to get her to talk about it, but they’ve been friends for years. Abby’s known him since she was a kid.”

“We need to try harder then.” Leah chews her lip nervously, “If she’s not over him before he tells her…” You all flinch and peer at Abby who’s still talking with that girl from earlier.

“We’ll figure something out… Hopefully.” You say while gazing at your best friend.

A week flew by and all of you were on edge except for the oblivious three people you were all stressed about. Manny had come to you worried out of his mind after Owen told him about the pregnancy. The two of you spent a good chunk of time cursing out the man and his hate of condoms and Mel and her goddamn stupidity. It was dangerous being a dumbass in a world like this when people or infected could take you out in a minute. Manny himself decided to get the ol’ snip so he didn’t have any accidental children. Then the conversation turned to Abby and Manny expressed his concern for her. He was always given the room for hookups and she would pass out in the library for the night. There was never a time when he was told to get lost so she could have sex instead, and that was a worry because you both knew it used to be the other way around. The conversation took a sad turn after that.

The day after that was the weekend so you didn’t have to do anything around the compound. You were allowed to relax and do whatever you wanted, and on days like this, you could walk around while packing. It was normal for girls you’re sleeping with to grab you as you’re walking through the compound, so this made it easier. Except you weren’t expecting to be grabbed by Nora, who hurriedly told you that Manny and Abby were fighting and you needed to go calm her down. So you ended up racing to their apartment where you paced back and forth while you wait for someone to answer the door. You could hear them arguing through the door and that made you feel a bit apprehensive about going inside.

“Fucking hell, Abby! It was only a question!” You hear right before the door was yanked open and Manny comes storming out of the room, “She’s all yours, Y/n! Good luck! I’ll be gone for the night until ABBY PULLS HER HEAD OUT OF HER ASS!” He screams back into the room before stomping down the hall. You blink before sighing and heading into the room, making sure to lock it behind you in case Abby decided she wanted to beat up her roommate. It wouldn’t stop her but it’d slow her down enough for you to talk some sense into her… or knock her out. When you turn around, Abby is sitting on the edge of her bunk with her fist clenched and leg bouncing. You have to hold in a sigh as you approach her, Abby glancing up at the sound of your footsteps.

“Do I even want to know what the fight was about?” You put a hand on your hip.

“Manny’s just being a bitch.” Abby scoffs, “He thinks Owen isn’t a good friend and he’s leading me on. He’s not leading me on! Owen told me that he’s not serious about Mel!” You thin your lips, trying to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret. You have to calm Abby down before you're forced to try to wrestle her to the ground.

“Okay.” You exhale, “Talk to me about it then. Tell me your side of things, Abs.” You sit next to her, placing a hand on her thigh. Abby glances at you, sighing before she nods.

“Fine, okay… I think I do need to talk about it with someone.” Abby turns so she’s facing you, and you do the same, “Owen and I have been friends for years. We dated for a while and then broke up because… honestly, I don’t even know. But, I haven’t lost my feelings for him and he says he hasn’t lost his for me either.” She sighs.

“Don’t you think he could be lying? If he wanted to be with you, Abby… he wouldn’t be with Mel.” You say gently.

“No, No.” Abby shakes her head, “Owen isn’t serious about her. If he was, we wouldn’t have had sex last night.” She says out loud but it seemed like she meant to say it to herself. You freeze, eyes going wide in shock and anger at her confession. Abby’s head snaps up when she realizes what she said, eyes wide with panic.

“Holy shit, I didn’t mean to say that. Please don’t tell anyone, Y/n. Please.” Abby begs, grabbing your shoulders. You close your eyes, trying to keep your anger down but it’s not working.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Abigail?” You hiss, jerking away from her grasp and standing up, “I’m sick and tired of trying to be nice to you about this! Everyone has been trying to get you to move on from him and you had sex with him?! Are you crazy?!”

“I didn’t mean to! It-It just happened!” Abby stutters, shocked that you’re upset with her, “We were drunk!” You’ve never been one to raise your voice at others. The only time you did was during sex but even then you preferred to be a more commanding domme than an angry one.

“It just happened?” You laugh incredulously, “Things like that don’t just happen! Oh my god, what does that sack of shit have that keeps you coming back? It’s definitely not his face or his looks and it can’t be the sex because I’ve heard not-so-great things from other girls.”

“Hey, don’t say that about him!” Abby glares at you.

“I’m only telling the truth.” You huff, crossing your arms, “Owen is nothing special for you and Mel to be fighting over his tiny ass dick. There are so many other people here who are interested in you, and they’re all better than him. You’re letting him play you and I fucking hate it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you! I like him!” Abby throws her arms up in exasperation.

“Have you ever tried moving on from him?” You raise an eyebrow. Abby goes silent, awkwardly glancing away, making your jaw drop.

“You haven’t?” You gape at her.

“I-I did, sort of… I haven’t found anyone that can really top him.” Abby rubs the back of her neck.

“Top him? Where? His personality?” You scoff. The silence from her has you frowning. ‘Does this sorry excuse of a man really have such a hold on her that sex with him is more fulfilling to her?’ You stare blankly at her, “Abby. You’re serious?” You deadpan.

“…Don’t judge me.” Abby huffs.

“It’s a little too late for that! You cheated with him, Abby! Cheated!”

“He cheated on me with Mel! How is that-!” Before you know it, you lash out and slap her. The sound echoes in the room and you feel the sting of your palm. Abby stares at you with shocked eyes as her hand comes up to her cheek. You couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction at the way she was looking at you. ‘Fuck, now’s not the time for that. My kinks have no place in this conversation.’

“You’re better than that. That’s how it’s different.” You hiss, gripping her jaw, “Listen to me, Abigail. I’m tired of trying to not hurt your feelings. Owen doesn’t care about you! He only cares that you’re there as a backup for when shit with Mel goes south.” You stare her in the eyes. Her eyebrows draw together, lips curling into a snarl as she jerks her chin from your hand and stands up.

“Fuck you, Y/n.” Abby spits, shoving you backward, “You’re just a jealous bitch!”

“Get out of my face, Abby.” You say with a warning tone. You were pissed and she was really pushing your buttons. How could she still defend Owen after everything he and Mel put her through?!

“And if I don’t?” Abby says lowly, stepping further into your space, “What are you going to do? Fight me?” She shoves you back again. You grit your teeth as she stares at you.

“You’re not worth it.” You scoff, turning around and taking a few steps away. With the way she was acting, you wanted to shut her up for five seconds about him. If you stayed any longer, you might just punch her, and wouldn’t those bruises be fun to explain?

You feel something collide with your body, and then you’re on the ground. You grunt as your body slams onto the floor, the weight of Abby on your hips. Your reaction is quick, twisting your body around as you aim for her throat. Abby doesn’t let it connect, moving out of the way in time. Any control you were holding onto vanishes and you’re fighting her. The two of you snarl at each other, wrestling and throwing punches while trying to be the one on top.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Abby!” You hiss, pinning her shoulders down, “You’re pathetic for letting him do this to you!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Abby shouts, using her hips to throw you off, “He loves me!” You get up off the ground, lashing out and grabbing her by her braid before she can get off of her knees. Abby hisses in pain as you yank her head back, glaring furiously at her.

“Shut UP!” Your grip on her hair tightens, “You make me want to shove my dick down your throat just to shut you up!”

“As if you have the balls for that.” Abby scoffs, a fire burning in her eyes.

“Oh, so you want to chance that?”

“You know what? Yeah, I do! Do it!” There was something in her tone of voice that irked you, and you were yanking your strap out of your pants before you can think about the action, “I bet you’re too much of a bit-!” Abby’s cut off by you shoving your strap into her mouth. Your blood was boiling from the snippy, bratty attitude she was giving you. She gags as you force her mouth to take your strap, holding it to the back of her throat as she struggles to breathe.

“What was that Abby?” You taunt her, pulling back enough for her to get a breath in, “I couldn’t hear you.” You thrust back into her mouth, making her gag more. You twist your fingers to get a better hold on her and start fucking her throat. The sounds of her choking, struggling to get a hold of herself as you use her throat brings you a sadistic glee. Tears gather in her eyes and start to stream down her face, making you coo at her.

“Hearing you choking on my dick is much better than that bratty voice of yours.” You smirk down at her, “I’ll stop as long as you’ve learned your lesson.” After a few more thrusts, you stop and pull your strap from her mouth watching as she coughs and greedily takes in air.

“Is that- all you’ve got?” Abby rasps out, chuckling, “Thought- you were this bigshot here. Must be lies.”

“Are you seriously questioning me after that, Abby?” You crouch down, getting eye level with her, “Would you prefer I make it so you can’t talk for the rest of the day? Cause I can do that.”

“That’s all you can do.” She gives you a taunting smile, a fire blazing in her eyes.

“Stand up!” You snap, jerking her up by her hair. Abby stands up and although she’s bigger than you, you weren’t intimidated in the slightest.

“Strip.” You demand, crossing your arms, “Strip and get your ass on that bed.”

“No.” Abby says smugly, intentionally trying to get you to react. You reach into your pants pocket and take out your switchblade, letting it spring open. Abby’s frozen, eyes wide as you press the tip of it to her throat.

“I said strip.” You hiss, and she’s hurriedly taking her clothes off, bra and underwear dropping to a pile on the floor. She makes her way to the bed and you take your clothes off as she does. With the switchblade in hand, you rest it against her throat and settle between her legs.

“Not so bratty now, are you, Abs?” You hum, lightly dragging the tip of the knife down her body and tapping the flat of the blade against her clit. Her eyes are trained on you some apprehension creeping into them as she bites her lip.

“I’m just waiting for you to do somethi- Fuck!” Abby jolts, from the impact against her cunt. Your blade is at her throat again, a snarl on your face as you work your fingers against her wet slit.

“Waiting for me to do something, huh? Are you getting off on this, Abby? Is that why you’re so wet?” You slap her cunt, making her gasp, “You actually want this, don’t you?”

“As if I want to be fucked by a bitch like-” You slap her again, but that doesn’t deter her, “-you!” The blade of the knife presses deeper into her skin and she hisses at the sting.

“A bitch like me?” You bring your face close to hers, inches away from being able to kiss her, “Do you want to bleed, Abigail? You’re not in the position to be saying these things.”

“Fuck you!” Abby spits, and you’ve had enough. She hisses as the blade digs into the skin of her collarbone. The thin line of blood stands out from her creamy skin. You growl, sinking your strap into her without a warning and making her yelp.

“Every time you’re a brat, I’m going to make a new line in that soft skin of yours. So be a good slut and take my cock.” You purr, thrusting back into her and getting a whine. You were taking your frustrations out on her, fucking her like you didn’t care about how she was feeling. Abby pulls you into a rough kiss, biting at your lip and drawing blood. You subsequently cut a new line into her skin, but continue kissing her.

Abby would hiss out stuff to make you angrier, and in your already agitated state, it did. The woman underneath you was spitting vitriol at you and goading you into hurting her. You were impressed that she was speaking with an aching throat, but knowing that it hurt her to speak because of you made you want to cum. Her blue eyes were dark with deep anger and lust, becoming hazy with every thrust from you. No matter what she said to you, it took a well-placed thrust and she was losing her words. You were enjoying watching her fall apart underneath you as her words failed her and were replaced by moans. She was always so composed around the compound. A friendly face and a sweet smile with some kind words or a joke. Even out on runs she stayed focused and didn’t let anything rattle her. So to see the fear in her eyes from the knife, the way she grips the blankets when you slam into her, it makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“I bet he can’t fuck you like this.” You smirk, nails digging into her hips as she moans wantonly, “You’ve been dying for a Dom haven’t you, Abs? Your pussy was ready for my cock. Can’t you hear those filthy sounds?” The wet sloshing sound coming from her pussy fills the silence between her moans. You were mocking her. Telling her that she’s not so cocky now that she’s under you. Threatening her that if she moves too much, your blade might go too deep into her skin, and she’d be left with scars from this. She was so wet that you were gliding in and out of her with no resistance. You were getting off on her pain, feeling your own slick on the inside of your thighs as you watch your strap disappear into her. The rush you were getting from this is intoxicating. So, you drew it out. You denied her of her orgasm to hear her struggle to curse at you with her raspy voice. You paid close attention by listening to her moans get louder as she gets closer, only to stop before her orgasm can break. You were torturing her, waiting for her to beg you, to fully submit and Abby knew it. You couldn’t help but feel smug when she finally did.

“Pl-Please!” Abby whimpers as you deny her orgasm again, “Let me- cum!”

“Beg me, Abs.” You demand, “I’ll only do it if you beg me.”

“No!” Abby groans in frustration.

“Then you’re not cumming.” You smirk, slowing down, “And, you know I think I’m getting tired-”

“No, no, no!” Abby sobs, tears falling from her eyes, “Please! Please, Y/n! Please, let me cum! I need to! I’m sorry for being a brat, please!”

“Only because you’re begging me so nicely, baby.” You coo, pecking her lips and finally letting her cum. Abby whines out your name while you continue to fuck her through it. Your anger has fizzled out, but you still felt hurt from the situation your friend was putting herself through. You needed to take a deep breath before you could come back and properly take care of her. But, when you pull out of her and go to stand, she grabs your wrist and gives you a pleading look. Tears well up in her eyes and you sigh, cupping her cheek in your hand.

“Please don’t go.” Abby whimpers, a tear falling down.

“Let me run to my dorm, grab a few things, and I will come back.” You say softly, her vulnerable state tugging on your heart, “I promise I’ll come right back.”

“Hurry.” Abby whispers, wiping a tear away and you nod. You get up and put your clothes on, tucking your switchblade back into your pocket and leaving the room. True to your word, you go straight to your apartment and put your strap away after cleaning it. Grabbing a pair of pajamas, some ginger root, and your box of hair ties, you make your way back to her apartment. The door is still unlocked when you get there and you slip in and frown when you hear Abby sobbing. You put your things down and rush back to her, gathering her in your arms and letting her bury her face in your neck.

“I didn’t mean to leave you for that long, Abs.” You rub her back, “I came back as fast as I could.” You feel her shake her head.

“It’s not that. You’re right. Owen doesn’t care about me.” Abby sits up and you wipe her tears, “I just kept deluding myself because he’s the one person from my past that understood me, and made me feel wanted and I let that blindside me. The truth is that I’m so lonely. Sure, I have my friends but everyone has their own things going for them. And, I’m really craving intimacy and one-night stands definitely don't fill that void.”

“Abby. No… Honeybee.” A soft blush appears on Abby’s face at the childhood nickname you gave her. You shift and start undoing her braid, “It’s normal to want intimacy past hookups. I’ve had a few girlfriends over the years. Your issue was that you couldn’t see all the people who want you, and trust me there’s a lot. You’re Issac’s top dog, sweet and insanely attractive.”

“Really?” Abby slightly turns her head to look in your general direction.

“Really.” You snort, her hair coming undone and falling over her back, “Go shower and clean up. Then we can cuddle, okay? The sub-drop you’re going through will only get worse if I don’t take care of you.” Abby nods and goes into the shower. While she does that, you prepare her some tea for her throat, remembering to put in a generous amount of honey for your friend. ‘Craving intimacy, huh?’ You idly stir the tea. ‘Maybe I could offer to be her Dom? I know she’s not ready to be in a relationship with someone right away, and I know her well enough to properly provide for her.’ You hear the door open and Abby comes out in her pajamas. You smile at her, picking up the cup and handing it over to her.

“Ginger tea. For your throat.” You blush, “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“No, no. It’s fine, I um… found it kind of attractive?” Abby blushes heavily, drinking from her cup to hide her face, “Everything you did was um… very attractive. Even the whole… knife thing.”

“Oh, shit!” You gasp, your fingers flying to her collarbone where your name was carved into her skin, “Shit, I went too deep. That’s going to scar.” You curse, your fingers brushing over the inflamed skin. ‘What the hell? I’m very good with my knife work to know how deep to go, but...’

“Sorry, Abs. I didn’t mean to do that.” You sigh.

“It’s okay. At least it’s your name.” Abby chuckles, “I can live with that.”

“Why don’t I be your Dom? Temporarily, at least. That way you get the intimacy you’ve been craving and there’s no strings attached. Just a friend helping you out until you’re comfortable.” You suggest.

“I’d like that.” Abby smiles shyly, “Can we… talk about earlier?”

“Of course! Why don’t we cuddle while we do that? I can care for you.” You smile, and Abby nods.

You became Abby’s Dom after that, but you didn’t tell anyone. You’d have her come over to your apartment instead of bothering Manny since you didn’t have a roommate. And you learned that Abby could be a real fucking brat when she wanted to be. You found yourself being rough with her on days she really needed to have some form of release. The carving of your name scarred quickly, oddly staying a soft pink as if her body didn’t want to hide it.

Your relationship was kept strictly in the bedroom but slowly started to leak into your everyday life. Abby admitted that she liked when you caught her off-guard so when you went out on patrols, you couldn’t stop yourself from cornering her for a quickie. When you were bored in the company of your friends, you’d play around with your knife and she’d lose focus and watch you. Sometimes she’d surprise you, dragging you into an empty room and begging to eat you out. You’d relent, seeing the needy look in her eyes, and spend the next few minutes swallowing your moans.

During all of that, you were watching with your own eyes as Abby got over Owen. It started off with her being able to be in a room with him and not glance at him ten times in a row. She was more comfortable when Mel and Owen showed affection to each other. Not flinching or looking away. Then, she excitedly told you that she set some boundaries with him after he tried making an advance towards her. If he touched her in any way that was more than friendly, she’d stop talking to him. Her demeanor towards him changed as well. So much so that the rest of the group was beginning to notice. You were proud of her for that, and you rewarded her every time you noticed her progress.

Abby was very needy when she got comfortable with you and you found yourself loving it. If she was spending the night at your apartment, she’d ask to suck on your clit or have you touch her when she got sleepy. Falling asleep in bed with her ended up with you trapped between her and the wall, tangled up and feeling warmer than you’re used to. In the mornings she’d sleepily bury her face in your neck, leaving kisses while caressing your hip. She’d even take a chance to hold your hand when out on patrol, later saying that she wanted to feel closer to you.

With all of these little moments, it was no surprise that you started to fall in love with her. One night the two of you sat down and had a serious conversation about your relationship. You admitted to falling in love with her and told her that if she wanted to be your girlfriend, you’d stop seeing those other women. You also admitted to knowing that Mel is pregant, and you’d understand if she didn’t want to be with you after keeping that secret. Abby practically tackled you on the couch, kissing you senselessly and admitting that she had fallen in love with you, too. She wanted to be your girlfriend, and to hell with Mel and Owen. She didn’t care about them anymore. And with the number of women you were keeping company, it only took a week before rumors started to fly around the compound.

“Hey, Y/n!” Nora plops herself down on the couch next to you as the group comes into the party room. You had been the first one there since you had been helping Issac with adjusting the borders of the WLF territory.

“Hey, Nora! Guys.” You nod at everyone, flicking your switchblade shut and letting your eyes linger on Abby. ‘Damn, I love it when she’s wearing tight shirts like that. Those muscles are just inviting me to run my blade over them.’ Abby sits down on your other side, her hand twitching as she fights the urge to hold your hand.

“So, have you heard the rumors?” Leah grins at you, kicking your foot from her seat next to Jordan.

“What rumors?” You furrow your brow. The only rumors you’ve been hearing is that the Seraphites were starting to get deeper into WLF territory, and you knew that was true. There wasn’t anything else you’ve heard down the grapevine.

“You stopped sleeping with all of the girls you’ve been seeing!” Manny points at you, “People are speculating that you’ve gotten a girlfriend, because you wouldn’t have stopped out of nowhere.” You internally chuckle. You knew it was spread quickly but not this fast.

“Is it true?” Nick leans forward in his chair. You look around the room at everyone and take in their intrigued looks.

“That I have a girlfriend?” You clarify and everyone nods, “What do you think, baby? Would you call yourself my girlfriend at this point?” You turn to Abby, putting your hand on her thigh. You meet her eyes, giving her a mischievous smile that has her blushing.

“Considering that I’ve been referring to you as my girlfriend for two weeks now… I’d say yes.” Abby responds, grabbing your hand, “I do call myself your girlfriend.” She leans in and pecks you on the lips.

“WHAT?!”

“YOU’RE DATING ABBY?!”

The two of you laugh while your friends freak out at the casually dropped news. You move so you’re sitting on Abby instead of next to her, and she wraps her arms around your waist. She pulls you to her chest and you can feel her relax underneath you. After two months of keeping how close you two really were a secret, it felt amazing to be affectionate in public.

“H-How did this happen?” Owen stutters, looking shocked and a bit angry.

“If you really want to know, I fucked her and things developed from there.” You shrug.

“Oh, and I know about the pregancy.” Abby adds on, standing up with you, “Congratulations, you two. I hope things go okay.”

“You’re… not upset?” Mel questions carefully.

“Nah, I’m over it. I’ve got my girl right here.” Abby gives you a fond smile, “She’s everything I’ve been looking for.”

[bokettochild]

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones

Angst! My Beloved!

Not a lot of whump here, but I put Wild through the wringer!!! Lots of BotW2 ideas and concepts here, but nothing really cannon.

Also, disclaimer: I think Flora is a wonderful person, a bit harsh and sometimes unkind, but I feel for her a lot. The prompt submitted to me however asked for her as an ass, so that's what's here, for angst reasons. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLAN ON WRITING HER NORMALLY!!!

When Wild left the Chain behind in the woods, it was with a soft smile and a hesitant wave of his right hand. It was with a gentle ‘See y’all later’ that made Warriors shake his head with a sigh while Twilight offered a wobbly grin.

He would join them again, he knew that. After all, Hylia wouldn’t have chosen him to go with them in the first place if he was only supposed to leave before they’d even really started to know what it was that they were meant to be doing.

He’d see them again, and he’d fall back into a routine with all of them, sparring with Warriors and teaching Hyrule to cook and shield surfing with Wind and learning to carve from Sky. He’d go back to sewing with Legend, to exploring with Hyrule, to learning the Ocarina with Time and teasing Twilight about his terrible singing. He could work with Four on the Sheikah Slate and experimenting with different plants he’d gathered. He would see them again, and he’d go back to being busy and smiling nearly every day.

For the time being however, he had to square his shoulders and harden his jaw as he stepped through the swirl of black that had repulsed all the others every time they tried to enter. He had to tame his mind and wild spirit and come to stand before the Princess of Hyrule in all of her stern glory and receive the scolding he was due for wandering off without permission.

He never had time to question what she meant by being gone for ‘two whole weeks’ before she was marching off towards the labs and explaining that there was a new task for them to complete.

Such a task was one that left in his mind no time for thoughts of his brothers save on the lonely nights in the sky when the islands above the clouds were silent save for the birds about him that reminded him of Sky, or when he ran across the forests and was reminded of the wolf that once ran at his side. And, alright, the tiny people in the grass and the fountains reminded him of Four and Hyrule. When the wind sang strong in his ears as he dove towards the earth from the highest places in the sky, he couldn’t help but envision a small hero whose laughter danced like the sea and who’s fingers mastered the currents of wind and sea both.

It was a lonely quest, just like his last before it, but somehow it was more painfully so, now that he knew what it was to have brothers at his side to catch a monster’s blade when he was too slow or to help him patch himself up afterwards. It was quiet when the Princess and he sat around the fires as night, she studying him as he sat still and stonelike as she worked.

The hand that had waved goodbye to his brothers now flickered green and ethereal in the night shades, iron bands clinging to the wisping appendage and acting as a bond to hold its form together. It was nothing like what he’d known or studied in the Sheikah technology, or even what he’d seen from the many worlds he’d traveled with the other, and it earned many a stare and twist of the lips from those he met and traded with during his journey.

The arm was only the first of many changes, it’s power seeping through his body and altering him before he even knew what was happening. He’d hated it at first, disliking how it changed him, made his eyes glow and his hair touch with the same ethereal shades, red bleeding through at the roots and earning him even more wary looks.

Ganon, in all his terrifying power, had been a surprising comfort during the quest, an aid to discovering his new abilities and training them to bend to his own will. The Princess had been wary of their relationship, but had accepted it when she saw what he learned to do, and every evening she would require a report of his newfound skills, as well as the occasional demonstration or examination.

It all came to an end both too soon and not soon enough.

Ganon was gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and the Princess was as cold as ever even after their second adventure at each other's sides. And now there was no use for the abilities that had fused to his soul like the arm had to his flesh. He’d asked Purah if there was something that could be done to restore his body to its normal Hylian state, without the glowing limb that earned his only stares and insults from the village people, but the Princess had overheard it and declared that such a thing should not even be attempted.

“You don’t understand, Link. Don’t be foolish! We have here a scientific marvel ready for our investigation and exploration and you want to get rid of it just because it looks odd?”

He’s shuffled his feet slowly, resisting the impulse to rub at his chest where the Hylian part of him ended and the eldritch horror began. “I can’t live like  Hylian anymore.”

“Because you aren’t one!” Her Highness rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sir Knight, after everything I certainly doubt that Hylian even applies to you anymore! Hylians do not possess the qualities that you now do, and they most certainly do not travel through stone or time or any other such thing at will. Think would you! You’re something else entirely, and I intend to find out what that is!”

Purah had frowned at that, eyes full of sorrow as they met his own with an apologetic sigh. But there was nothing the de-aged scientist could really say against the royal Sovreign of Hyrule, not as a Sheikah sworn to the service of the royal family. The woman/girl had offered him a sympathetic pat on the head later after climbing up to reach high enough to do so, as well as a few dumplings that Paya had sent on her grandmother’s behalf the day before. It was a welcome gesture, but amounted to so little on the grand scale of life. Not when so many others he had once called his friends had so blatantly rejected the mere sight of him.

Bolson and the other carpenters shied away from him with harsh whispers as they spat insults across the distance.

‘Half-blood’.

‘Gerudo Bastard’.

‘Freak’.

‘Demon’.

There were favorite insults spread from stable to stable and up and coming village to up and coming town and slowly all of Hyrule knew of the monster that had once been the hero. Gossip abounded, and he couldn’t even turn to shield his face with his hood without drawing attention to his arm.

It was only the koroks that welcomed him, themselves all too accustomed to the strange and ethereal. Them and the blupees.

Maybe it was the knowledge of how it felt to be shot at for his oddness that allowed him to ease into the graces of the flighty animals. And maybe it was his lonely heart crying for comfort, but when nestled in their midst, it almost reminded him of how it felt to be hugged by the salty veteran, on the rare occasional that the pink-haired hero had let down his guard.

The fairy’s tangled themselves in his hair and the blupees gathered at his feet, koroks dancing around him and flying to his side as if he was some sort of forest god, but the strange rise of his spirits in their presence shattered the instant a traveler caught sight of him.

Arrows and fire, once his favorite of weapons, were turned against him as words in every language of the New Hyrule had burst from the mouths of its people, and like his namesake, he ran before them, darting through the forest and fading in amidst the trees, hiding, incorporeal and translucent within the halls of the forest as those he’d once seen as allies pushed him away.

He’d begged the new Queen for aid, for relief or even just a word to the people that he wasn’t the evil they had come to think he was, but she only waved him aside with a purse of her lips. “You are not meant to be here without first asking.” The Child of Hylia declared, eyes as cold as the Shrine’s waters themself. “And why should I make a declaration on behalf of a man who refuses to even speak to me properly? You come groveling like a worm, yet for years it was I who you ignored. See how it feels, Sir Hero, to be the one left helpless at the hands of the country. Know what it is to be scorned by those who you thought would love you.”

He’d barely made it out of the window before the trainee guards of the newly repaired Hyrule Castle had caught him and Queen Zelda Diana Hyrule had stared after him with eyes colder than Hebra’s tallest peaks.

It was the Father Tree -the Deku Tree as the Queen had called it, but the koroks laughed at him for using the name, so he’d adjusted in kind- who suggested that he hide the changes, and he’d begun to wander Hyrule as much as possible to find the materials he would have needed.

The Queen still required his presence regularly so she could inspect him; her love of science no ways tainted as to stop her from ordering him to appear regularly, as there was now no need or safety in his acting as her guard. The Queen sought her people’s respect, and to employ such a being as himself, not Hylian and not quite mortal, would be to spark fear in the people. Indeed, when he skirted villages, he would wince at word of ‘the queen’s monster’ as gossip was traded. Those who didn’t see him themselves knew him as a beast of feral nature who lived amid the lost woods and destroyed any who came close.

“A specter that glows with the light of the shrines.” They would tell each other over campfires. “It has eyes like a ghost, empty and lost, with no care for humanity or Hylia’s chosen. They say it was once the Hero of this world, but he died ages ago.”

“I heard it’s the body, possessed by a being beyond this realm, a monster escaped from the edges of reality that tried to hide in our midst but corrupted it’s host so that it only scares away others, leaving it roam the earth in a shattered body. If you get too close to it though, it’ll take your instead.”

He’d stayed away from towns after that.

The blupees and koroks had been happy to help him to find what he needed to hide among the Hylians should he wish though, and two in particular guided him; the korok swinging little twigs like they were batons and humming swinging little shanties as it hopped along the path, the blupee snorting softly and nipping at his heels when he wandered too far, unnatural purple eyes staring up at him with something that was fondness and a reprimand all at once, and in their care he’d made his way across the land of Hyrule to find what would be needed to return to his once life.

The fairies and their Great cousins had been welcome help, and in time, he’d been able to walk amid the populace of Hyrule like any other, as long as he kept a long cloak about him and his hair pulled back to hide where the roots would begin showing again in gold and ethereal blue.

Once Hyrule had talked about needing to hide in his world, about the curse that followed him and made the Hylian people afraid. He’d thought it bizarre and ridiculous of the people at the time, but now he understood what it was to live it.

When the portal opened beneath his feet the day that the Queen had reprimanded him for concealing and potentially damaging the strange limb, startling the Skeikah scientists and Queen both, he’d nearly cried tears of relief.

He was going away, somewhere where he wasn’t a science project and where, unless they traveled to his world’s future, no one would know how much he had changed. His copy of the slate had enough hair dye to last him a few months, and he was certain he could make more over time, and as long as he continued wearing the tunics and gloves the fairies had helped him to adjust to hide the glow the others would probably never catch on. Or well, he could extend it anyway.

His brothers greeted him with open arms and teary eyes, and in a strange parallel to his adventure, he found himself thinking of blupees when Legend had curled against him, stiff and cold on the outside, but with fingers that clutched his tunic just a bit too tight to really be reluctant. And Four, Hyrule and Wind’s exuberant hugs and chatter brought to mind tiny forest people and koroks with twigs for batons.

It was good to be home.

It was good to cook for other people again, and they were glad to have him cook for them, even if his fondness for both Gerudo spiced dishes and fae like sweet things had increased exponentially during his newest adventure. It was good to fight at their sides, even if it was strange to once again have to take others into account before he could select a weapon. It was good to sit around a fire and talk with the others too, but that was perhaps the hardest one; it had been ages since he’d had a proper two-way conversation with anything other than a tree or a korok, and neither of those was good at either staying awake or staying focused for very long.

There were some harder things to adjust to though. Fire, for one. Unlike before when he’d have been happy to burn an enemy camp to the ground, now he was wary of using faming weapons or spreading heat further than necessary. The same went for hunting; he couldn’t bring himself to shoot an animal unless it attacked first or they needed the meat it would provide, and even then, he felt a bit bad for doing so. Is this what Twilight had felt like? Is this why the rancher never liked hunting? Because he too knew what it was like to be on the other end of the bow?

But the hardest thing by far to readjust to was his name.

‘Wild’ they had called him again, and after months of ‘the wild one’, ‘wild beast’, ‘monster’ and every other insult, slur or title that had been used on him, it made him flinch ever so slightly at the words. And unlike the other things where his brothers dismissed it as a change caused by his adventure or an increase of maturity, it was something that the others seemed to either not notice or to excuse as situational.

He had adapted though, learned to keep a smile on his face where blankness had once been required in his knightly duties, and the more he wore the mask the easier it was to put on again.

He’d reveled in traveling across time again, in dancing through battles and exploring the world without the Queen reprimanding him in her cold tones to stop wandering off. He’d pushed himself to learn more music in the last adventure, and even if his experience was more with what few instruments Ganon had had time to help him learn, he’d enjoyed sitting down with the others and borrowing one or another instrument to play a tune and sometimes he even got to sing.

He fell to comfortably into his role though, even with the changes, and he hadn’t even noticed when they’d come back to his world. To be fair, it was different in the daytime, and Hyrule had changed so much in the absence of her hero as he hid himself away from the eyes of civilization. Towns and roads had sprung up where there had only been fields before, and the Guardians that had littered the land had all been dug up and hauled to the castle to be either restored or destroyed by the Sheikah, depending on what Queen Zelda decided after she looked at them herself. The world was so different to him, so unlike that which he knew, that he’d failed to keep as alert as he ought to have been when he wandered about an open market with the others, laughing and chattering away with the other younger ones as Time and Legend herded them towards the needed stalls.

It was a traveler that was his downfall, a man who’d seen the Monster Hero and had been among the first to discover the disguise he wore.

No questions were asked when the word spread, and Wild hadn’t caught on to the whispers until a stone had struck his cheek and he was stumbling forwards on the path.

“Wild!” Twilight was at his side in a minute, Time right after him as Legend launched a barrage of insults at the guilty party who’d thrown the thing.

“’m fine.” He was careful to wipe the blood away with his cloak, holding the fabric to the wound to prevent bluish blood seeping down his face and exposing him to his brothers. He wanted to keep them as long as possible and proving himself to be a monster, not even Hylian, would surely have them turning their backs on him.

“Get away from him!” A woman scolded, grabbing ahold of two of the younger heroes while several other shoppers had like ways grabbed Legend and Sky. “Are you dears alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Freaking what?” Legend shrieked. “Who’s the injured party here?”

“I’d avoid that thing, son.” A man huffed through a frankly walrus like mustache, eyes hard as they trailed to where Wild stood, cloak still pressed to his cheek as he attempted to wave off a fussing Twilight and Time. “It’s not natural. Sure, it looks like a normal Hylian, but that’s just an effective ruse.”

Another villager nodded. “It’s one of the Calamity’s puppets, a Gerudo-Bastard set on destroying the kingdom!”

“He’s the freaking hero!” Legend shrieked, barely being held back by a steely eyed Sky. “He saved all your freaking asses and all you can do is insult his flipping guts? Who’s the-”

“Enough.” There were few times that Sky’s voice reached levels worse than Twilight’s growls, but the stern command, regal and firm, froze all present as the man stiffened with a cold nod towards the villagers. “I see we are unwelcome here, and with that being the case it would be wise to spend our rupees elsewhere. Legend,” A tug to the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s join the others and be out of their hair. If they cannot be welcoming and kind to our brother than they will not receive our patronage.” And like a swan gathering it’s cygnets, Sky swept down the street, cape fluttering as he ushered the rest of them out of the town and back to the safety of the wilds. The village stared after them with wide eyes, as if they’d just been judged by a breathing god.

The stiffness in Sky’s shoulders faded as they neared the edge of the forest, and instantly the Chosen Hero been tutting over Wild, gently but firmly prying his hand away from his face with a kind smile that almost set Wild at ease. Almost.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“Still.” Sky crooned softly. “I’d rather we clean it up now and make sure it’s nothing worse than let it sit and get infected later.”

And though he’d tried to fight, his single Hylian hand was no match for the firm grip of the Skyloftian, and within minutes his face was exposed to the shocked faces and flickering eyes of his brothers.

“It’s blue...” Wind breathed as Hyrule darted forwards, hands already glowing softly only for them to stutter to a stop over Wild’s skin.

“It’s... Wild, why is your blood- why is-” The healer’s eyes had flickered golden for a moment, wide as they stared up at him. “What happened to you-”

“What the freak!” Legend had startled, blinking in surprise as he stared. “Your eyes are glowing!”

Shit! The healing properties of the arm had already taken affect and it was making everything act up all weird! He shot a glance down at his arm, one hand raising to tangle in the long hair he couldn’t even see at the moment, praying silently beneath his breath that nothing was showing through. It wasn’t, but that didn’t change how Hyrule had come to fixate on his right arm, or how the healer's fingers hovered over it sparking and eyes twinkling as he whispered softly under his breath.

“Wild.” Time had sighed. “I think this one is going to need an explanation.”

All the breath left his lung in instants.

He’d panicked to say the least and Time had eventually shooed the others away to make camp as the eldest hero had sat at his side, waiting silently for him to regulate his breathing. Touch was too much right now, and any attempts from the others to ease him down or help him level out his breathes had only made him panic more. But when at last his blue eyes blinked back to clarity it was to see Time sitting at his side, a gentle tune wafting from the Ocarina at his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, trying his hardest not to startle Time or otherwise make the situation worse. “I should have said something, I know. I just- missed being Wild and I wanted to come back and be normal and I didn’t want to-”

“It’s alright.” Time’s voice rumbled softly, a single blue eye turning to him with a pained look, even as the man offered him a hint of a smile. “None of us talk about our adventures either.”

“Yes, but you’re people.” He sighed, rubbing the fingers of his glove together. “You’re allowed to choose things.”

There was pain in Time’s voice when their leader answered. “And you’re not?”

“I’m not Hylia anymore.” He whispered. “I don’t count.”

“You count to us.”

“That’s because you don’t know.”

Time shifted, turning to face him fully as the ocarina was set firmly in the grass. “That’s because you’re family and we care. Wild, I don’t care if Demise himself named you the king of the dead, you’re still my kid and Nayru knows I’m not going to let you go without a fight. If that means fighting you, alright, but you’d best better believe that no amount of physical or mental changes will break the bonds we all have with you.”

Something, something damaged and crushed and stitched up and torn open again clenched inside of him, tears pricking at his eyes as he stared up at Time’s royal blue gaze. “W-what?”

“You could be granted godhood, made a monster, I don’t care. You’re ours and you’ll have to deal with that.” Time smiled, warm even with the pain in his eyes as he looked down at him. “So how about you start again, maybe with the facts rather than the insults. Or,” Time softened, brows furrowing lightly. “If you want, we can just sit here and you can choose to talk about this later. We do need to know, so we can help you and keep you safe, but you don’t have to tell us right now. You can take some time to figure out what you want to say if you need.”

And, well, shoot him, but Time’s arms had always been a safe place and there was one thing he’d wanted more than anything since he had come back. Wild threw himself into his grand-mentor's arms with a soft sob, clutching tightly to the other, ignoring the armor and its sharp points and awkward shapes as he tried to hold back all the emotions swirling in his chest.

Time’s arms folding around him broke the floodgates though, and when the man’s hand had stroked through his shortened hair, he’d had to bury his face in Tim’s neck to muffle his sobs.

“There, there,” Time hummed softly, rocking slowly as he held the broken wild hero. “Let it out, little one. I have you, I’ve got you and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”

[pekotranslates]

Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I’ve been thinking about one piece of dialogue Violet has when you’re walking back to Ericson, right before the bridge: “I've always wanted a basketball hoop.”

One of the issues I’ve always had with Violet’s writing throughout the whole season is that it never feels like she has anything to call her own. So much of her story revolves around Minerva and Clementine, which would be fine if I also felt like I got to know her more than I do. 

Like... aside from survival, what gets Violet out of bed every morning?  What does she like? We always hear about things she doesn’t like, but what does Violet do that is hers? I mean within the text of the story, not headcanons. Aside from her romantic relationships, there really isn’t something so tied to her character, if that makes sense. Something that’s in a more positive light.... though I guess her relationships aren’t always that positive.

I get that when the twins died, Violet shut down a little bit and turned everyone away, but do they ever make a point to be like “Violet used to enjoy doing this, but when the twins died, she stopped and hasn’t picked it up since.” because for the life of me, I can’t think of anything. 

Everyone memeified the chicken nugget thing but that doesn’t add much to her character. She makes Clementine a pin, but admits that artsy stuff isn’t her thing. I get that’s supposed to make you feel special because she likes you enough to do something she doesn’t like for you, but again, art isn’t her thing. If you say that she likes stars and that’s her thing, that’s not exactly true since it was Clementine who knows about constellations and Violet admits that she knows nothing about that stuff, so they’ll just make it up. I guess you could make the argument that she took an interest in it because of Clementine, and that’s fair, but that’s the thing.... why does Violet’s romance scene take place up on the bell tower in the first place? 

Like.... okay, Louis has his romance scene in the music room, right? That makes perfect sense with his character. It’s where we first meet him, and music is so interwoven with his character that it holds together his backstory of why he broke up his parents marriage, his coping mechanism, how the others view him, and how losing his tongue is even more tragic since he won’t ever be able to sing again. So having him and Clementine tune the piano, carving their initials into the piano, him naming a song he wrote after her, it’s all romantic and it makes so much sense. They didn’t do it just because they thought it would be romantic. 

The thing I struggle with the Violet scene is that I feel like if I asked the devs why they chose the bell tower and how it ties into her character, they would say “well, it’s romantic under the stars.” like.... they’re only doing it for the sake of romance without thinking about anything else? because when doing that scene we get the terrible mini-game [sorry, but I reeeeally don’t like the mini-game hahaha]  and it feels like we’re wasting a little too much time because I’m not learning anything about Violet through it, but we’re also not talking about anything important. The most I learn is that if I remain silent, then Violet will say that Minerva reminds her of the fish constellation: “Bright, pretty, good with other people. Always moving, tons of energy.”

Which, by they way, Clementine’s face when she says that? Oof. 

By the end of the mini-game, Violet finally says something about how she didn’t mean to talk so much, and how how she’s watched people leave before and all that.... stuff that I already know about her, and it’s not that it isn’t important for her to admit that she wants us here and she can’t imagine what it would be like if we weren’t now, because it is.... I guess I just want everything to tie together better?

Okay, when we first see Violet, she’s laying up on a high wall and you could link that to the bell tower [high places], but she never mentions it or how she goes up there when she needs the quiet until that very moment. And the more I think about it, I’m like..... why didn’t they give her something? 

Violet’s supposed to be this character who needs to warm up to you, who has shut everyone out for a year, she’s not a people person and has a hard time relating to others, she snarky and can come off as aggressive, she knows how to fight, she was in a romantic relationship with Minerva, she’s close with Tenn, she’s got a strained relationship with Brody and hates Marlon and...... like okay, this is going to sound harsh and I don’t like it either, but sometimes if feels like the writers neglected parts of her character for the sake of focusing on her relationships with Minerva and Clementine, that when you take them away, there isn’t a lot left... as if Violet’s only important or special if she’s in some sort of relationship with Clementine and I don’t like that. 

Characters, like people, should be more than just their sexuality and relationships. If Violet and Louis are supposed to be important characters in the game, they need to stand on their own outside of Clementine. 

You guys know me, you know every time I play I romance and save Louis, but in doing that, I learn pretty much nothing about Violet and that’s dumb. At least when you romance and save Violet, you know about Louis and his tie to music. The most I tie Vi to is Minnie and aggression because she and I spend two episodes butting heads about most things until she’s captured, and then she yells and attacks me in the cells and what was the plan here writers??

I get that they don’t wanna info dump about these characters and they want to leave things for when you play the different routes but that doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t give Violet anything to call her own because even when I played her route, it still didn’t feel like I got to know her and everything was done because you thought just having a queer option smothered in romance that doesn’t have to make sense was enough.

Are my ramblings making sense yet? I dunno!

This leads me to this piece of dialogue you get when Clementine says silent when Violet asks her what her favorite part of her house was: “I've always wanted a basketball hoop.”

Now stick with me a little longer and hear me out........ why wasn’t basketball Violet’s thing? I know this is a bit of a throwaway line that a lot of players probably didn’t even get, but think of the possibilities of extra layers to Violet’s character?

Instead of hanging out on top of a wall when we first see her, Violet’s off dribbling a basketball and shooting hoops when she spots you and Tenn goes to her, and she stops to stare you down as she holds the ball against her hip, or she continues to dribble but now she’s watching Clementine. A little intimidating, but enough to peak your curiosity about the girl shooting hoops. 

When Louis says he used to love baseball and Violet says baseball sucks, it’s because this is an inside joke they have about baseball vs basketball.

“Basketball/baseball sucks.”

“YOU suck.”

“Not as much as baseball/basketball.”

Instead of going up to the bell tower, Clementine and Violet shoot hoops together while talking about how Violet’s feeling about the situation, let her get some of those thoughts about Minerva out so they’re not weighing down on her, and then segway into her talking about how she’s glad Clem is here and let the romance/friendship play out. Hell, you could either do this in a gym or outside if you still want them under the stars. 

As far as this tying into her backstory, maybe her grandparents had a basketball hoop at their place, and after church her grandma would grab fast food and they’d go home where she and her grandpa would play while grandma watched. 

Then when you don’t save her, Violet becoming blind has a whole other layer to it because now she can’t fucking see to shoot hoops, something she genuinely enjoyed and can’t anymore. 

This would also compliment Louis and his tie to music. Violet’s more active, aggressive, sporty whereas Louis is musical, artsy and calmer. 

I dunno, what do you guys think?

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Oh! Can you write a Spencer x reader fix based on Dress by Taylor Swift? I feel like it fits it so well, like hiding the relationship from the team/friends to lovers? Love your work!

Thank you darling! ❤️ italics are flashback

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They've got no idea about me and you

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

“She’s going to be ok you know?” you spoke, snapping Spencer out of his thoughts.

He looked up at you, wide eyed and scared. It broke your heart to see him like this.

“She hates me,” he sniffed back tears.

“No she doesn’t.” you took hold of his hand. “She’ll understand, it’s the best place for her.”

You couldn’t comprehend what he must be going through. No eighteen year old should have to make the decision about whether or not his mother should be committed.

“I hope so.” his bottom lip quivered as though he might cry but he managed to keep his tears at bay.

“We’ll go visit her this weekend ok?” you squeezed his hand, shuffling closer to him on his bed.

“I’d like that.” he nodded.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from holding back from all this (ha, ha, ha, ha)

You wanted to kiss him so badly. It really wouldn’t have been hard to, he was right there and his lips looked so inviting.

But he was your best friend and he had never given you an inclination he liked you in that way. He’d never given any inclination of liking anyone in that way.

You pushed your own desires aside, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had built up over the years on a whim.

But god his lips felt as though they were calling to you, just begging to be kissed.

But how long were you supposed to ignore your own needs? Honestly, you didn’t know how much longer you could just push them aside.

Spencer Reid had lips that needed to be kissed. And by you.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off (ha, ha, ha)

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Two weeks later and his mood had lifted a little. You’d been to visit his mom a couple of times and each time she was getting more used to the sanitarium which allowed Spencer to sleep better and the weight of his decision weighed on him a little less.

Tomorrow you were leaving Vegas for college in New York. Honestly you had thought about not going. Because the thought of leaving Spencer almost broke your heart in two.

“You look nice Y/N.” he smiled a little at you as he spoke.

You felt your cheeks burning as you played with the hem of your new dress.

“Thank you Spencer.” you swallowed.

You wanted to make your move before it was too late. What if you went off to college and he forgot all about you? You wanted him to have a lasting memory of you.

You’d bought a new dress and spent ages on your hair and makeup. Just to hear Spencer say you looked nice was worth it.

But you needed more. You needed him to know how you pined for him for so long.

But the words got lost in your throat somewhere and they never came out.

When he hugged you before you left you felt a piece of your heart break off and entwine with his.

And you’d never fully get it back.

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about

The music was loud and the room was crowded. You threw back glasses of wine like they were going out of style.

Your girlfriends laughed at another joke one of them told that you’d missed due to the volume of noise but you laughed anyway.

“It’s your turn Y/N,” one of the girls yelled to be heard over the music.

“I think I’m going to sit this one out.” you shook your head.

“No way!” another said. “It’s my bachelorette party! And you’re the only single one of the lot of us so we’re all going to live vicariously through you.”

You sighed, knowing resistance was futile.

“Fine.” you rolled your eyes. “Who?”

The girls looked around, conferred for a moment and the pointed across the bar.

The man they’d chosen had his back to you. He was tall, skinny and had a mess of brown curls.

“Sweater vest.” one of the girls said. “He’s your target.”

The game was simple. You went up to a stranger of their choosing and without saying a word to them, you had to plant one on them.

You downed the remains of your glass of wine and put the glass down on the bar.

You smoothed down your dress, inhaled a long breath and then headed over.

You heard the girls behind you cheering you even over the music.

This man was about to get the surprise of his life. So were you, you just didn’t know it yet.

His friends noticed you coming just as you reached him but he didn’t have time to turn to see you before you grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed your lips hard against his.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from holding back from all this (ha, ha, ha, ha)

He froze up completely at your kiss which was completely understandable.

His friends stared on in confusion.

When you pulled back you went to speak. You went to explain to him that you were sorry but it was a dumb bachelorette party dare.

But your words got lost when you looked into those eyes.

“Spencer?”

“Y/N?”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know what to do.

So you ran.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off (ha, ha, ha)

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

“Hey you.” you smiled a little awkwardly as you approached him. “Two years is a long time not to visit.”

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry. It does work both ways though. You’ve not been back to Vegas since you left.”

“Ah but I have the excuse of being busy with college.”

“I am working on my third PhD Y/N.” He laughed.

“Fair enough.” You toyed with the hem of your dress. Another new one, just for Spencer’s visit. “I missed you Spence.”

“I missed you too.” He smiled shyly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

Beautiful. He called you beautiful.

Was this your chance?

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself Mister. Or sorry, is It Doctor now?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” He swallowed and if you weren’t mistaken, he’d moved closer to you.

You moved closer to him too, now so close you could feel his breath on your face.

Year’s worth of longing rushed to the surface. You couldn’t hold back any longer. You needed to kiss him.

Clearly he felt the same as he was edging even closer. His eyes closed. This was it. He was going to kiss you. Finally you were going to know what it was like to kiss Spencer Reid.

And then, he pulled back.

“Uhm…” he scratched the back of his head. “So, are you going to show me around New York?”

Flashback when you met me

Your buzzcut and my hair bleached

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me

Flashback to my mistakes

My rebounds, my earthquakes

Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth of me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this (ha, ha, ha, ha)

You shyly clung to your dad’s side on the lawn of your new house, chewing your lip frantically.

“New neighbors, say hello Spencer.” Mrs Reid motioned her son forward. He had large, thick rimmed glasses that seemed to take up his whole face.

“Hello.” he gave you an awkward wave.

“Hi,” you returned the gesture.

“This is my daughter Y/N.” your dad introduced you.

“I like your dress.” Spencer smiled shyly at you.

You felt yourself blushing and found yourself playing with the hem of your dress.

“Thank you Spencer.”

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Spencer found you hiding out the back of the bar, completely mortified. Of all the men in all the bars in the all the world you could have kissed, it happened to be your childhood best friend.

Why was the world so cruel?

“Y/N?”

Hearing your name from his lips made you shudder. It had been a long time since your name had sounded that good.

“Hi,” you chewed your lip. “Look I am so sorry about that. I had no idea that was you and it was a dumb bacherlorette party dare-”

“It’s ok.” he smiled sweetly at you, coming closer to you. “It only took us nearly twenty years but we finally had our first kiss.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s really good to see you. What has it been, ten years?”

“Nine years, seven months and two weeks.”

“Wow.” you chuckled. “I forgot about that eidetic memory of yours.”

He was really close now, you had backed yourself up against the wall outside the bar.

“You look as beautiful as ever.” he whispered.

Before you could respond, Spencer pressed his lips to yours.

It was completely different to the kiss you’d just shared in the bar. He took hold of your face and pressed his whole body against yours. His tongue worked its way into your mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into the kiss.

It was all you’d ever wanted. Spencer Reid’s lips on yours.

And it felt better than you ever dreamed it would.

You were both panting when the kiss broke, smiling at each other.

He ran his hands down your sides, taking you all in.

“I really like your dress.” his eyes turned dark. “But I think it would look better when I’m taking it off.”

There is an indentation

In the shape of you

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

[atlafan]

Boo!

a/n: alright, I think this is the last Halloween fic I’m gonna due, I had one more in me. Thank you to everyone who sent me requests. I tried to sprinkle them all into the four different fics I wrote. This one was mostly inspired by someone who asked for a scared neighbor, and someone who asked for one of them to work at a haunted house! Reblogs and feedback are always helpful! Enjoy! (not proofread)

Warnings: pining, fluff, and smut at the end

Words: 6.6K

Y/N was a scaredy cat, plain and simple. She loved Halloween, and the fun that came with it, she just hated the things that absolutely made her skin crawl like jump scares, fake blood, movies that were made with the sole purpose of scaring you, and haunted houses. Never has she once wanted to go to a haunted house in her life. She went when she was a little girl, and she ended up being one of this kids that just screamed and cried the entire time. She somehow made it through both It films, but had nightmares for weeks, so she just stays away from these things.

She was a recent graduate, just starting her master’s program, and living on her own for the first time. She loved her flat a whole lot, getting to decorate it however she wanted, and only having herself to blame if the dishes got stacked up or if the bathroom needed tidying. Another reason she loved her flat? Her very cute next door neighbor. She wasn’t sure if he was also in grad school, or was just from the area. She learned his name was Harry one day as they were both checking their mailboxes, and from there they would exchange pleasantries in the elevator or if they saw one another coming or going.

Harry was a tad mysterious in that he was quiet, but his smile always let Y/N know she wasn’t a bother. She had no idea if he was single or not. His apartment was often quiet aside from the occasional person he might bring back with them. She only ever heard muffled giggles, and the sound of his voice lowering an octave, but her bed wasn’t pressed up to the wall they shared, so she really didn’t pay much attention to it. It did make her more mindful for when she brought someone home, though, not wanting him to hear her.

Y/N always liked the little interactions she’d have with her sweet neighbor. It made living alone a little more exciting. She’d have her friends over when she could, and sometimes they got a little glimpse of Harry, and then they’d understand why Y/N couldn’t help but word vomit about him sometimes.

One day, a couple of weeks before Halloween, Harry spots her in the hall just as she’s keying into her place. He grins and comes up behind her.

“Boo!”

“Ah!” She turns around and nearly decks him. “Jesus Christ, Harry!” She clutches her hand to her chest.

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d be so jumpy, I’m sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“No offense, but you’re a large man coming up behind a small woman to scare her on purpose…I think anyone would be scared.” Her face flushes with embarrassment.

“When you put it like that…yikes.” He clears his throat. “Um, I’m glad I caught you, though.”

“Oh?” She perks up a bit. He had genuinely wanted to talk with her?

“Yeah, I work seasonally at this haunted house downtown every year, it’s a lot of fun.” He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I’m supposed to give out some coupons, if you bring a group of five you get a discount, see?” He hands her the coupon and she looks it over.

“You…you work at a haunted house?”

“Just seasonally as a side gig, it pays pretty well. Plus, I get to dress up as different things and scare people.” He smirks.

“Well, I can see you definitely enjoy doing that.” She chuckles slightly.

“I really am sorry about that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a charity thing, so half the proceeds goes to UNICEF…if that persuades you at all.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll see if my friends want to go, thanks.”

He smiles at her and nods.

“Well, have a good one.” He says, and continues his way down the hall and to the elevator.

Y/N goes into her flat, and sighs heavily. She was fucked, absolutely fucked. She knew her friends would be down to go, but she more so worried about needing to wear a pair of depends or not because she was sure to wet herself at a haunted house.

//

“Why didn’t you just tell him you don’t like haunted houses?” Billy asks her over coffee.

��Isn’t it obvious?” Niall says to the group. “It’s the first time the guy’s said more than a few words to her, she wasn’t going to turn it down. Isn’t that right, Pet?”

“On the nose, Ni.” She sighs. “I looked like enough of a wimp when he scared me in the hall, I didn’t want to look like a total baby by telling him they scare me. Maybe we could go and I could just putter around outside.”

“Why don’t like you like them again? They’re harmless.” Sadie says as she sips on her tea.

“I don’t like the jump scares. I wanna see everything clearly in front of me. I also feel bad for clowns.” Y/N pouts.

“Clowns?” Rob questions.

“Yeah, like, clowns are supposed to be sources of joy, and they’ve been turned into these scary monsters for no good reason.” She takes a bite of her lemon-poppy scone, and swallows. “So…I mean, I have the coupon, would you all come with me? At least he’ll know I have friends.”

“What’s his name again?” Sadie says, taking her phone out. “Harry Styles?”

“Yeah, don’t bother looking him up, he doesn’t have any social media. Or if he does it’s all super private.” Y/N says.

“Of course you’ve tried to look him up before.” Niall teases her.

“Well, he is my neighbor, I wanted to see if I was living next to a creep or not.”

“I think we should go.” Billy says. “We haven’t done anything spooky this season yet.”

“That’s because you’re all too grown to come carve pumpkins and bake cookies with me.” Y/N huffs.

“Tell you what, you roast the seeds from the pumpkins and I’ll come bake with you.” Sadie says, throwing an arm around her friend, and they both giggle.

Later that day, Y/N happens to get into the elevator at the same time as Harry, and she was excited to give him the good news.

“Hey.” She smiles at him. “Um, I talked to my friends, we’ll be at the haunted house this weekend.”

“That’s great! I’ll be there Saturday night for sure.”

“What will you be dressed as? Will you be walking around outside, or will you be inside doing the real scaring?”

“If I told you any of that it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it? No built up suspense.” They both get off the elevator and head down the hall. “See you then.” He winks at her, and she stands by her door a moment going over the interaction in her head.

She just wanted to prepare herself as much as possible. She knew half the fun for the stuff was to actually get people scared, but there was a difference between jumping and laughing at something, and genuinely screaming to the point of tears. Would she actually survive this?

//

Saturday evening, Y/N and her friends head downtown for the haunted house. There was a lot to do outside, so they stop off for candied apples before getting their tickets. She shows her coupon to the cashier, and the group gets their discount. It was just starting to get dark outside, and there were tons of people in costume walking around outside. Some people were taking pictures with them after getting spooked, and Y/N started to feel herself getting nervous.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” Niall throws his arms around her shoulders. “Bill and I are gonna make a little sandwich with you so you’ll be right between us to grab onto while we walk in.”

“Thanks.” She says.

“Do you see him anywhere, or do you think he’s inside?” Rob asks.

“He wouldn’t tell me when I asked, so I have no idea.” She sighs.

“Well, let’s go get in line, it’s starting to fill up.” Sadie says, and they all head to the line to get inside.

There was someone dressed up like a witch scanning the tickets, and reminds everyone it is single file as you enter the house. Everyone nods, and Y/N grips onto both Niall and Billy’s hands as they form their line.

Harry was outside at the front of the line scoping out the scene. He was taking a little fresh air break before he needed to get back into his room. He was dressed like a dirtbag with a fake chainsaw in his hand. As he scans over the crowd in line he spots Y/N. His eyes widen as he practically sees her trembling. He watches as one of the boys she’s with raises her chin with their finger and says something to her. She smiles at him, and kisses his cheek. Harry furrows his brows in disappointment, and goes back inside.

It’s dark as they all step inside, and her death grip on the boys grows stronger.

“Y/N, close your eyes if you need to, we can guide you in.” Billy says to her as he grips her shoulders.

“Yeah, don’t feel like you even need to-“

“Ahhh!!” She screams when a few ghouls pop out at them. She nearly jumps on Niall’s back from it. “I should have just stayed outside.” Her bottom lip quivers.

“We’ve got you, just keep going.” Sadie says from the rear.

It really was just the jump scares and the darkness. The rooms they were walking in weren’t that scary. Some of them have flashes of lightening and rumbles of thunder, creepy music and floorboard squeaking. Harry’s room was up next. All he had to was pretend to saw into someone’s neck, and let some fake blood out. The only thing was, his room was pitch black, so no one could what was happening until he ripped the cord for the chainsaw.

He recognizes Y/N’s pitiful scream instantly. Usually he gets a kick out of it, from anyone, but when he glances over at the group, and sees her cheeks stained with tears, he feels terrible. The scene is supposed to last a little longer, but he gives a signal to the lighting crew and they make it go dark again. His room was last, so Y/N practically gasps for air once she’s back outside.

“I’m sorry if I ruined it for you all.” She sniffles and wipes her cheeks. Niall sighs and helps her clean her face up.

“You didn’t, Lovie, it’s fine.” He says to her.

“You actually did a lot better than we thought.” Rob says.

“Are your panties dry?” Billy asks.

“Well…yeah.” She giggles.

“Then you did amazing!” Sadie says. “I have to say, I’ve been to my fair share of haunted houses, and that one was fucking scary.”

“Can…can we go get some pizza or something? Maybe some hard ciders? I need a fucking drink.” She jokes, and everyone agrees. She wished she had Harry’s number so she could at least text him that she actually showed up. “Wait! I just wanna go inside and leave a note for Harry.”

Everyone waits outside as she goes back up to the ticketing register. She asks if she can leave a note for him, and the girl at the register all but squeals, and says yes.

Made it through the house, just wanted you to know. Thanks again for the coupon!! – Y/N xx

“I’ll make sure H gets it.” She smiles at Y/N.

“Thank you.” She says, and out the door she goes back to her friends.

Harry felt even more gutted when he received the note. He had been part of the reason she was crying. Why would she have gone if she really didn’t like being scared? Did she go just for him? No way, that other guy she kissed had to be her boyfriend, right?

//

For about a week Harry contemplated knocking on Y/N’s door. He even thought to slide a note underneath, just to be cute, but he chickened out. One night he was getting some studying done when he heard a loud yelp. His head turns in the direction of the sound. Did she have someone over? He’d occasionally hear the squeal of her bed, but in all honesty Harry had a feeling Y/N wasn’t exactly getting her shit rocked. Either that, or she was just one of those really quiet girls. Not a minute later does he hear a quiet tap on his front door. He gets up and pads over to it to look through his peephole. It was a shaking Y/N.

“Y/N?” He says as he unlocks and opens his door. “Are you alright?”

“N-no, I…I don’t know what happened, um, I think something short circuited, and I…I feel so stupid for saying this but I don’t know where the breaker box is.”

“Oh, Pet, you’re not stupid. Took me forever to find mine, do you want some help?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He follows her out into the hall, and into her place.

“Gave you a bit of a fright, didn’t it?” He asks softly.

“Y-yeah.”

Poor thing must have been embarrassed. She was in a pair of pajama pants and a tee shirt, clearly not wearing a bra. He thought she looked adorable, and just wanted to scoop her up, but he couldn’t. He uses his flashlight on his phone, and she involuntarily latches onto his wrist.

“I’m sorry, I’m petrified of the dark.” She tells him.

“It’s alright.” He shifts so he can hold her hand. “The breaker box should be in your pantry, that’s where mine is anyways.”

He heads her over to it, and she lets him open the door. She had a tidy flat, nothing to hide. He opens the box, looks away, flips the switch, and the lights all come back on. She lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god. I thought I was going to be without heat! Thank you, I have no idea what happened. I don’t have anything overly plugged in.”

“No problem at all.” He smiles at her. “Sometimes it happens at my place, it’s not exactly the newest building, Love.”

“Right.” She swallows and lets go of his hand. He looks in the direction of her kitchen and sees she has a couple of pumpkins on the table.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, well, I was going to get some cookies in the oven, and then carve some pumpkins. My friends aren’t really into it, but I like it.”

“So you don’t totally hate Halloween then?”

“No, not at all! I…I’m just not a fan of the scary stuff.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Would you…would you care to join me?” It was bold. He probably had plans, or probably just didn’t want to hang out with her.

“I’d love to! Can’t remember the last time I carved a pumpkin.”

“Oh! Well, alright then.” She smiles and leads him into her kitchen. “I have those sugar cookies with the pumpkins and black cats on them. I was about to slice them up before the power went out.”

“I love those, can I help?”

“Sure.”

She preheats the oven and gets a baking sheet out with some parchment paper. She lets him slice up the roll with the black cats as she does the ones with the pumpkins, then she pops them in the oven. She grabs a couple of bowls to place on the table and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“My friends like when I roast the seeds, so we need one bowl for all the guts, and then one for when we separate them.”

“Gotcha.” They each grab one of the little carving knives and cut open the tops of the pumpkins. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t like the scary stuff then why did you come to the haunted house?”

“Oh…well…I didn’t want to disappoint you. You invited me, and…well….I’ve always wanted to get to know you better, so I thought that would be a good start.”

“You have?”

“Well, yeah, I think you’re the only other young person on our floor.” She laughs. “Are you still in school?”

“Yeah, I’m in grad school.”

“Me too!” She says excitedly and starts scooping the guts out of her pumpkin. Harry does the same.

“You could have just told me, you know, I was using the coupon as an excuse to talk to you.”

“R-really?”

He nods and starts separating the seeds. She watches as his fingers work nimbly. She frightened when she hears the timer go off for the oven.

“Jesus, Y/N….I feel terrible that you’re so jumpy.”

“I think I’m just still a little worked up from the power going out.” She takes the cookies out of the oven and puts them on a cooling rack.

She comes back over and sticks her hands in the bowl of guts along with Harry’s, and they brush together. They look at each other and blush.

“Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

Everything sort of happens quickly from there. Without caring about the mess, Harry cups her cheeks and pulls her into a tender kiss. He backs her up against the wall next to the fridge, and she groans into his mouth. Her messy hands tug at the collar of his shirt to pull him down more to her so she can wrap her warms around his neck. He smiles against her.

“Were you eating some of the cookie dough earlier?”

“M-maybe.” She giggles. “Why?”

“You just taste really sweet.” He leans down and sucks her bottom lip between his teeth, and lets it snap back. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, to be honest with you. You just seem like such a nice person.”

“I’ve…I’ve wanted to kiss you too.” Her heart was beating like crazy. Her eyes glance over at the pumpkins. She really did want to carve them. “Um…would you…would you like to get the pumpkins carved? And then maybe we could watch a movie while the seeds roast?”

“I’d like that.” He steps back from her. “I got your cheeks covered in guts, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She chuckles and grabs a paper towel, wetting it under the sink faucet. She wipes her cheeks and continues to separate the seeds with him.

Harry begins carving his pumpkin while she lets the seeds rest on some paper towels. They munch on cookies, and giggle as they make horrible designs with the pumpkins.

“Okay, hold on.” She says and grabs two little lights to put inside the pumpkins. “Aw, they look so cute.”

“How come your friends don’t like doing this? I had a great time.”

“It’s a lot of work to them.” She shrugs. “Kinda glad they’re not here, wouldn’t have needed you to rescue me.”

“Guess it all worked out for the best.” He smiles at her.

“Go get get comfy. I can make us some tea while I ge the seeds in the oven if you like.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

It was a Wednesday night, Harry had class tomorrow, but he truthfully didn’t care. He was enjoying getting to know his neighbor, and he was hoping to get to know her a bit more.

“Alright.” She sets the mugs on the coffee table and grabs the remote. “I don’t know about you, but I’d love to watch Halloweentown.”

“A classic, throw it on.”

She feels almost giddy at his willingness to humor her. She flips the TV to Disney+, and puts on the movie. Just as she’s biting into another cookie after the opening the credits, she asks him the question that had been rattling around her brain over the last week.

“So, are you going to tell me who you were dressed up as at the haunted house?”

“Oh…I was the chainsaw guy at the end…”

“Oh.” She says quietly.

“I had them end it quicker when I saw how scared you were, I felt terrible.”

“Great, so you saw me crying like a baby.” She sighs.

“Hey.” He smiles at her. “I think it’s really brave that you went through the whole house.”

“You’re just saying that.” She pouts at him.

“No, I mean it.” He lifts a hand to stroke her cheek.

“You never responded to my note.” She says, just above a whisper.

“I…I didn’t know how. I didn’t know if one of the guys you were with was you boyfriend or not, and I didn’t want to just slip a response under your door.”

Her body relaxes under his touch, and she smiles softly at him.

“The guy who willingly scares people to the point of tears was too shy to slip a note under my door?” She smirks, and he lets go of her with a scoff.

“I resent that. There’s a crazy amount of confidence you get when you dress up like someone else”

“Sort of like stage presence?”

“Yeah, sort of.” He puts his arm around her and pulls her close to him. “Be quiet and watch the movie, would you?”

She giggles but listens to him. After she pulls the seeds out of the oven to cool, they get especially cozy on the couch with him laying behind her to spoon her. It was incredibly cozy, and everything she could have hoped for with him. The kiss earlier was nice and all, but she was hoping this was the sort of guy Harry was. One to be okay with staying in and watching a classic movie with a plate of cookies close by.

//

He was reluctant to leave, giving her smooch after smooch at the door, but he didn’t want to be groggy for class, and she had class too, so it was best for them to part ways. He did, however, ask for her number so he could ask her on a proper date some time and she happily gave it to him.

Y/N told her friends about the previous night, and they were really excited for her. They couldn’t believe the two had kissed over pumpkin guts, but hey, whatever works, right?

“You should invite him to my Halloween party.” Sadie says.

“He probably has to work at that stupid haunted house.” Y/N sighs.

“You won’t know unless you ask. Besides, it’s not like that place will be open super late. He could meet up with you.”

“That’s true. What if he thinks my costume is lame? I’m only dressing up like a witch.”

“The cutest witch as that, he won’t be able to resist.” Niall winks at her and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll text him.” Her eyes grow wide as she takes out her phone.

“What is it, Peanut?” Billy asks her.

“He texted me this morning and I missed it!” She scrambles to open the message and text him back.

Harry: morning, beautiful, I had a lot of fun last night. Can’t wait to do it again…8:09AM

Y/N: so sorry for just responding, I’m horrible at texting! I had a lot of fun last night too. Do you have plans on Halloween??...11:17AM

She sets her phone down with a sigh, taking a sip of her tea as her friends continue to chat about Sadie’s party. She sees her screen light up and she smiles.

Harry: lol no worries, I’m sure you’re a busy person. I have to work the day shift at the haunted house, don’t worry, we tone it down for the kids, but I’m free in the evening, why?

Y/N: oh, well, maybe I should have gone during the day then haha my friend Sadie’s having a party and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me? It’s okay if you don’t…

Harry: don’t be silly, I’d love to go! I’m assuming it’s a costume thing?

Y/N: great! Yeah, it’s a costume thing, but it’s not like over the top, I’m just going as a witch

Harry: bet you’ll be the cutest witch there 😉

Y/N: oh stop 😳

Harry: I mean it! I definitely have plenty of costumes, so I can pull something together. What time’s the party?

Y/N: I was hoping to get there for 9

Harry: works for me, see you then!

Y/N: see you then

“Oh my god.” She giggles to herself.

“What?” Sadie asks. “Is he gonna come with you to the party?”

“Yup?” Y/N grins. “And he thinks I’ll be the cutest witch there.”

“Oi, I literally just said the same thing to you!” Niall says.

“Yeah, but…I’m interested in him romantically so it means more.”

“Piss off.” He says with a glare and it makes her laugh. She throws her arms around her friend and kisses his cheek.

“Don’t worry, Ni, you’re still my number one man.”

“Mhm, sure.” He scoffs, and everyone else laughs.

//

Y/N never really fretted over a Halloween costume before, and she felt silly for being so nervous, but she just wanted to look…sexy? She sighs as she changes her outfit about three different times. She also wanted to be comfortable. She slides her legs into a pair of black slacks that come up just over her belly button, and had a slight flair at the bottom. She pairs it with a black lace bralette so only a sliver of her torso was showing. She curls her hair and brushes it out to look wavy, and applies some fun makeup to make her eyes pop. Last, she puts on her small witch’s hat, and waits for him. When she hears the knock on her door at ten of nine she takes a deep breath, grabs her purse, and opens it.

“Oh, Babe, you look amazing.” He says almost immediately, giving her a hug. She smiles up at him when she sees he’s dressed like a casual vampire. Donning similar black attire (slacks and a button up), along with some fake blood painted at the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, is that what you wore today?”

“Yeah.”

“Way less scary.” She chuckles, and locks her door.

“Do you wanna wear my jacket?”

“Maybe later? I’m okay right now, but thank you.”

He nods as they step into the elevator. He casually takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The walk to Sadie’s doesn’t take too long, and Y/N lets herself in when they get there. It was the usual group, plus some other friends from school and work. She introduces Harry to all of them, and get the two of them some sherbet punch.

“It’s spiked, is that alright?” She says to him.

“Yeah, thank you.” He takes the small cup from her and takes a sip.

Harry gets on with Y/N’s friends way better than she expected. It eased a lot of her anxiety because it wasn’t often she brought a guy around them so soon, but she talked about the him enough that they all already felt comfortable around him. He was also really funny, so that helped.

It was a great night all around. Y/N won a couple of round of Cards Against Humanity, and partnered up with Niall for a game of beer pong. Somewhere between midnight and one in the morning, Y/N and Harry decide to call it a night, he had worked all day after all.

“Care to come to mine for a nightcap?” He asks her as he shimmies his jacket off his shoulders and onto hers for the walk home.

Normally she wouldn’t yes so quickly, but they lived right next door to each other, and they had already gotten the first kiss out of the way, so she agrees. She was also curious to see how he had set up his place compared to hers. He leads her inside, and she stays wrapped in his coat as she goes to sit on his sofa. He comes back shortly with two glasses of red wine, only a little in each.

“Thank you.” She says as he hands her a glass. He sits down next to her, and grabs two coasters for his coffee table before setting his glass down.

“I had a lot of fun with your friends tonight. They seem like really nice people.” He sits with one leg underneath himself, and an arm slung over the back of the sofa.

“They are! I couldn’t ask for better friends, honestly.”

“Maybe you could meet mine sometime.” He blushes. “I don’t have as big of a circle as you do, but the friends I have are great.”

“I’d like that.” She smiles at before taking another small sip and setting her glass down. “I can’t believe I’ve been living next to you since June and it’s taken us this long to get to know each other.”

“Feels silly now, doesn’t it?” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“Yeah.” She inches closer to him, and looks up at him with wide eyes. “Would you kiss me again, I really liked it last time.”

He smiles at her and leans in, pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes flutter closed as she tastes the sweet red wine pass from his lips to hers. He tugs her onto his lap to create a more comfortable position, causing his jacket to slip from her shoulders, but neither seem to care. She laces her fingers into his hair, and opens her mouth for him. He licks into her as his hands splay on her back, not wanting to be too grabby too soon. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she moans softly into him. He had the first few buttons of his shirt undone already, so it was easy enough to kiss from his jaw to his neck. He holds her close to him as she mouths at his sensitive skin. She moves to his collar bone, and bites down, sucking on him. He groans and squeezes at her back. She moves to look up at him, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Would you…like to see my bedroom?” He asks, clearly testing the waters.

“Yes.” She says, much to his surprise. She was full of surprises tonight. He pecks her lips, and lets her get off of him. He takes her hand and leads her to his bedroom. “It’s nice in here, Harry.” His bed was made, and his desk was tidy. A few clothes on the floor, but that’s much to be expected.

“Thanks, the, uh, comforter is new.”

“Looks comfy.”

“It is.” He cups her cheeks and kisses her. Her hands go to his love hands and she squeezes him.

They make their way over to the bed, and they lay down with him hovering over her. She wraps her legs around his waist while he kisses on her neck. His lips move down between the valley of her breasts, and nipping at the parts of her that were spilling out of the lace.

“This is such a sexy outfit.” He says, hot breath against her skin. She groans and pushes her hips up towards his to feel his growing bulge.

“What, um, what do you feel like doing, Harry?” She runs her hands through his hair.

“Honestly, I’d like to fuck you, but-“ She yanks his face up to hers so she can kiss him. He chuckles as he pulls away. “We can, uh, wait if you want.” He clears his throat.

“Do you want to wait? I wouldn’t mind if you fucked me.”

“Well, look at you! The girl who’s so bloody afraid of the dark and haunted house and all things spooky is up for a little shag?”

“I may be scared in the streets, but that’s not how I am in the sheets.” She grins at him and his eyes darken a little.

“Alright, then.”

He sits up and takes his shirt the rest of the way off. She gazes up at him and runs her hands up and down his stomach. He was toned, yet soft, the perfect mixture. She reaches to undo his belt, and unzip his pants. He gets them the rest of the way off, and then kneads her breasts through the bralette. She arches up into him, and moans when he sucks on her nipple through the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He breathes.

“Please.”

She sits up a little to help him, and he tugs it off of her. His large hands cup her breasts, and he goes back to sucking on them, leaving little love bites behind. He works his mouth down her stomach, and his hands work to undo her pants. He looks up at her and she nods, lifting up her hips to help him get them off. He leaves her underwear on for now, kissing on her hips, and opening her legs up. He sucks a bruise on her inner thigh, and she gasps. He kisses her over panties before hooking his fingers into them, and dragging them down her legs. She blushes as she opens herself up for him. She had done a full body shave, and now she was regretting it because she must look like a child to him even though she was the same age as him.

“I…I’m sorry, that must look weird.” She chokes out.

“What?”

“M’like a little too smooth, don’t you think?”

Harry runs his fingers over her folds and up her pelvis.

“Listen, whether you look like this, have a full bush, or something in between, I wouldn’t really care. It’s all about comfort, right? Does being shaved like this make you more comfortable?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Okay, so, no problem, Babe.” He smiles. “It’s actually kinda cute.”

“Harry.” She whines and runs her hands down her face. “Will you get on with it?”

He nods and lays between her legs. He uses his thumbs to spread her apart, and starts by licking at her clit. She gasps as he flicks the tip across the bud, and then laps around her folds. He licks over her center, and presses circles with his thumb into her clit. He dips his tongue inside her, only for a moment, before looking up at her. He runs a fingers around her wetness before pushing it inside, and putting his mouth back on her clit. She watches him with her mouth hanging open.

“God, that feels so fucking good.” She praises him, and he moans against her in response.

He gets a second finger inside her and makes the ‘come here’ motion over and over, petting over her front wall and pushing against her g-spot. His tongue continues to work her clit, and she starts to feel her orgasm approaching.

“Oh, oh my god, oh my god, Harry, fuck, I’m gonna come, ugh, don’t stop, I’m…I’m, fuck!” She all but screams as she releases around his fingers.

He fucks her through it, removing his mouth, but still pumping her slowly with his fingers. She was unraveling for him, and he loved the sight. He retracts his fingers and cups her cheek with his other hand.

“Liked that, huh?” He smirks.

“Felt amazing.” She smiles up at him dreamily. “Do you want me to, um-“

“As much as I’d love to get those pretty lips wrapped around me, I really just wanna fuck you, is that okay?”

“Works for me.” She chuckles, and watches him reach into his side table for a condom, which makes her smile grow more.

He slips his boxers off, and her jaw drops as he rolls the condom on. She was definitely thankful he fingered her first. He gets back between her legs, and runs his tip between her folds. Her hips buck up towards him, just wanting him to put it in already.

“Want me to fuck you?” He says.

“Yeah.”

“How bad?” He says as he just presses his tip against her and then pulls it away.

“R-really bad, Harry.” She nearly begs. “Please, fuck me.”

He presses his bulbous head into her, and she moans out from the stretch. He feeds her, inch by inch, and bottoms out. Her nails dig into his forearms.

“M’gonna move.” He says and she nods.

He rocks his hips in and out of her at first, letting her adjust, and then he grabs one of her ankles to throw over his shoulder, and he drives it in deep. Her mouth falls open, but no noise comes out. No one had ever filled her up like this before. He grips the head board with one hand and continues fucking into her. She moans out, maybe a little too loudly, but it wasn’t like his neighbor was home. No wonder she could hear whoever he brought home sometimes, he really knew what he was doing. With a stroke of boldness, she slides her hand up to his neck, and grips him lightly. He looks down at her, a little shocked.

“Is this okay?” She pants.

“Yeah, do it harder.”

She groans and does as he says. He grunts and moans as he starts to hit her g-spot again. It was quite the hot sight, seeing her small hand around his thick throat. Her other hand moves to rub her clit, and he almost loses it watching her.

“Y/N, I…fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can go, I’m s-sorry.” He bites his bottom lip to try to focus on something else.

“I’m almost there, almost there! Just keep going, please!”

Her back arches as he gives her a sharp thrust and she comes around his cock. He spills into the condom not too long after and collapses on top of her. She hugs him to her chest, and runs her fingers through his now damp curls. He lifts his head to kiss her, licking into her mouth. She welcomes it, molding her tongue to his. If he wasn’t so sensitive he’d probably grow hard again. She winces as he pulls out, and he quickly goes into his bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her up.

“You don’t have to do that, I can just use the bathroom.” She says as her legs lay limp. He chuckles as he runs the rag over her.

“I know you can, but I thought I’d help out a bit.” He knees back on the bed to lay next to her. “Will you stay the night?”

“You really want me to?”

“Yeah.” He runs his fingers up and down her torso, raising goosebumps over her body. “I don’t know about you, but in about ten minutes I for sure could go again.” Her head turns to him and she scoffs. “Or…not, we could also just cuddle if you like.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that.” She rolls over onto his chest, and he kisses the top of her head.

“Did I go a little too hard?”

“Maybe, but I like it like that so it’s fine.”

“You’re full of surprises, I like you a lot.” He blurts out, and she looks up at him.

“You do?”

“Mhm.” He smiles.

“Good, because I like you too. I’m glad you’re not a proper dick and didn’t kick me out.”

“Couldn’t do that to you, Babe. In fact, tomorrow morning, I’m gonna make you a big breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and then we’ll get cozy and eat it in bed. Have a nice lazy day…you know, if you want….”

She giggles and moves to straddle him. He grips her hips and looks up at her confused.

“You’ve sold me, I can go again.”

[petitelepus]

44 with Ratchet!!! Yep, numbers are strange!!! Have a happy holiday season!!!

Christmas was closing in quickly so you had to prepare yourself. That didn't however mean that you wouldn't be able to try new recipes for Christmas!

...Okay, you didn't cook it, you bought the star of the dinner from this amazing butcher in downtown Detroit. No one can tell the difference from the one you burned last week!

"What the frag is that?"

"It's turkey! We humans enjoy it during Christmas time!" Sari said happily and you nodded as you placed the huge tray with equally huge turkey on the table.

"Now, I know you guys can't eat this, but you can watch me and Sari enjoy this delicious smoked turkey!"

Just as the tray touched the table, you pulled out the biggest knife the Autobots ever saw humans hold and they all got cold feet. You just smiled as you traced your finger carefully against the blade.

"Now, to get to cutting!" You cheered and you were about to slam the tip of the knife into the dark bird, but just as you were about to make contact, Ratchet's electromagnet yanked the knife from your hand.

"Hey, I was using that!" You exclaimed and Ratchet gave you one of his famous glares.

"No offense meant, but I do not trust you to carve this bird!” The grumpy old medic grunted as he took the knife and his other optics zoomed in as he started the careful operation of cutting the turkey.

You hated to admit it, but the medic knew how to cut meat. He got the flesh clean out and with minimum effort. You frowned and twisted your arms together. "I could have done that."

"Yeah, and I'm Sandy Claws." Ratchet grunted and you rolled your eyes. "It's Santa Claus. And besides, you certainly fit the request, only you are as old if not even older than dinosaur's fart and stubborn like a fucking donkey."

"Oh yeah? Well, you are as annoying as a pest like rust rats and you have absolutely horrible manners!"

"Primus, you're always at each other's intakes!" Bumblebee said as he rolled his optics. Sari smiled and joined in on shaming you and Ratchet. "Yeah, you should just kiss each other and make up!"

"Sari!" You and Ratchet snapped in unison and the young girl shrugged and rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you know the saying?"

"The horse kicks out of love, too?" You asked and Ratchet snapped his helm in your direction. "Wait, scrap, you love me?"

You blinked before realizing that you had just confessed. You blushed violently and frowned as you tried to play it off. "Wh- what?! Me! No, never!"

"C'mon now! Kiss, kiss, kiss!" Sari and Bumblebee started to chant together and Ratchet and you looked at each other, clearly still very annoyed.

"I ain't kissing you unless you want to." You said and Ratchet scoffed, "Right back at you."

You and Ratchet glared at each other so closely that you missed how Sari and other bots moved aside.

"I swear, if we don't get those two together by Christmas, I don't know what we can do!" Sari whispered to the rest of the team Prime and the Autobots shared a look between each other.

"I think we should get some mistletoes." Bumblebee said and Sari nodded as he and the yellow Autobot shared a very careful high-five "Let's go get them and make those two grumpy cats realize their feelings!"

"I think we should get them something to do together." Bulkhead suggested, but Optimus shook his helm. "We shouldn't disturb them. Who knows, maybe they do not really like each other?"

"We don't know until we get them to kiss!" Sari said and Bumblebee nodded, "Yeah, so we are leaving to get some poisonous plants which makes people kiss!"

"I think that is unnecessary. We should let nature and their feelings blossom on their own." Prowl said and Bumblebee and Sari turned to look at the ninja bot. "Oh, come on Prowl! When has that ever worked?"

Prowl grinned smugly and pointed at the table where the turkey, Ratchet, and you were... Kissing each other. Bee's and Sari's jaws nearly dropped on the floor at the sight of you two kissing.

It didn't take much from them to recover and they were all smiles as they looked at each other.

"We are good! So good that it's almost scary but good!"

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

[shadowturtlesstuff]

Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2? 

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

~

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell. 

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead. 

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation. 

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again. 

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money.  I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them. 

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’. 

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne. 

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.” 

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from. 

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.”  we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst. 

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party. 

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now. 

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice. 

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her. 

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.” 

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind 

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil. 

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met. 

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely. 

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives. 

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud. 

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion. 

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen. 

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.” 

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile. 

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again. 

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see. 

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.” 

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie. 

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be. 

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it. 

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both. 

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance. 

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean,  I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

~

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow. 

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start. 

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

[hiccanna-tidbits]

“Let her come to me.”

Cyan waves ripple aside, and Moana steps onto the wet sand. In the distance, glowing veins of bright red stand out against pitch black and smokes and sparks and cinders fill the sky.

All fire and fury and burning...like the worst of you. And the best.

The creature in the distance shrieks, drops to all fours and starts crawling across the seafloor. Mindless, furious, feral--far out of her reach. But she has to try.

Water coats her like a protective shell, flowing and rippling across her skin in a sort of dancing armor. Her hair rises and falls like ocean waves, encased in a little pocket of sea.

I have crossed the horizon to find you.

She’s come so far, sailed oceans and followed stars and felt so lonely and pained and lost she feels like she might die--but she kept on anyways. She kept on because all she wants in the world is fiery hair and eyes like the morning sky and the loudest presence she’s ever known and if she fucks this up now, she might never have that again.

And Moana would cross another horizon, if she had to. If that’s what it took to get her back.

Searing, clawlike fingers throw up wet sand. Moana keeps on. 

I know your name.

“You’re Merida Dunbroch,” she says, voice cracking. “You’re the best archer I’ve ever met. You’re crude and brash and unapologetic and fearless. You’d take on the whole world if it meant you could prove yourself. You love empire biscuits and apple tarts and you’d finish a whole roast chicken yourself if no one stopped you. You snort when you laugh and you eat like you’ll never see food again. You love feeling the wind in your hair, and getting it even more tangled because your mom used to hate brushing it out afterwards. You’ll climb to the top of any rock or cliff you can, no matter how dangerous it is, just so you can take in the view and drink in the wind. You’d do anything in the world for your little brothers, but you’d never, ever tell them that. You carved my name into your bow and told me it was so...so you could always take me with you, wherever you went.”

Moana’s voice breaks.

They have stolen the heart from inside you.

She remembers the smoke coming in and clouding the island, Te Ka lunging across the waves and onto the beach. The villagers screaming, fleeing to the top of the mountain to get out of the beast’s reach. Merida, the outsider, the one who fled from a kingdom far, far away to escape a destiny she didn’t want, the one whose boat had washed up one day and forced her to integrate to an entirely new way of life, bravely standing her ground with her sword brandished. The way she swung and struck and screamed with everything she had, trying to take down a monster twenty times her size to protect a village she had only called home for a little over a year. The way she kept fighting even as Te Ka closed her hands around her and black rock began to grow on her skin.

She kept fighting until the very end, when Te Ka took her away. When Te Ka corrupted her, made her into something just like the vast, wrathful goddess.

When the lava coursed through her, it must have burned her heart away until she was left with nothing, like Te Ka.

But there had to be something still in there. Moana had to believe that.

She couldn’t come all this way to find out she was wrong.

But this does not define you.

The lava beast draws closer. Moana can see the eyes. They’re vast, golden-orange pits, impossible to read.

Impossible to see if the girl she knew was still behind them.

But she had to be. Merida Dunbroch was not one to go down with a fight. Not one to let herself be lost completely. She was the strongest person Moana had ever known.

This is not who you are.

The anger. The rage. The hatred. The pain. Moana knew they all belonged to Merida--all things Te Ka could feed off of to power her little double. Anger at being forced to be someone she wasn’t, rage at being “auctioned off” into a political marriage when she knew she could never love a man. Hatred at a world that didn’t care to understand her, that told her every time she was loud or impassioned or stubborn that it made her shameful and disgusting and worthless. The pain at being trapped and alone in a place where she was going to have to put on a facade for the rest of her life.

But there was more in her. She smiled radiantly, she laughed hard, and she loved fiercely. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for people who showed her kindness and care. She loved amusing the other villagers, loved making her friends happy. She doted on Pua and HeiHei with surprising gentleness.

There was so much more in her than anger and chaos and cruelty and destruction. And that was what Moana needed her to remember.

You know who you are.

The lava creature pauses, snarling mouth hanging open, hair flowing behind in billows of smoke. Moana steps forward, willing her to remember. Needing her to remember. The playful shoves, the evening dance lessons, sipping coconut water as they watched the sun go down. Moana knew all of it still had to be inside of her somewhere.

What had once been Merida wouldn’t be pausing in attacking her if it wasn’t.

Moana steps forward, and the lava creature doesn’t move. Taking a breath, she presses their foreheads together. It burns and sears like anything, but Moana just doesn’t care. The lava creature closes her eyes, still and calm in a way Moana never thought she’d see again.

“Who you truly are,” she whispers.

She reaches up and places a water-cased hand on the hard, rocky chest, and the lava beneath sizzles and steams as it dries and hardens into black rock. A soft rumble fills the air as the rock begins to split, water snaking over it and burrowing into the cracks. Chunks begin to shear off and thump into the sand, and Moana catches sight of pale skin and a torn dress.

She watches in wonder as the ebony shell crumbles away--first her chest, then her arms, and finally her face. Two wide, pale blue eyes stare at her in amazement as smoke disperses and lava slides away and what’s left is a head full of bouncy orange curls.

“Mo?”

Merida says it uncertainly, like she’s in the strange space between wake and sleep where she can’t quite tell what’s real and what’s in her mind. Moana laughs, and she wraps Merida in her arms and crushes the other girl against her--so she’ll know this is real.

“You’re back,” Moana sniffs. Somewhere in her laughs, tears have begun to fall. “You came back to me.”

Merida laughs, and holds her back. They both sink into the sand, clinging to each other like there’s nothing else in the whole universe to cling to.

And maybe there isn’t.

“What are yeh doin’ way out here?” Merida murmurs against her ear, tone surprisingly stern. “The ocean’s a dangerous place, lassie. And Ah know damn well yeh can’t actually sail, no matter what et is yeh tell yerself.”

“I had to come to you,” is all Moana says.

Merida seems to melt even further into her grip. “Yeh...came all this way...for me?” Her voice breaks as she says it. “Why?”

“I love you.”

The words slip out before Moana can stop them.

Merida leans back and studies her inquisitively, and all Moana can think is I’m fucked.

The next second Merida’s hands are on her cheeks and she’s pulling the other girl forward to kiss her ferociously.

Moana is frozen, stupefied, completely unable to move. She never thought she’d be here, living this moment--but bringing Merida back was only the first of the miracles to happen today, apparently.

Moana slowly lifts her arms, draping them over Merida’s shoulders and melting into her.

“Ah love yeh, too, lass.” Merida pauses long enough to breathe it into her ear. “Ah just didn’t know how tae say et. Ah never thought yeh’d look at me that way. Ah was scared yeh might think et was...wrong.”

Moana responds by kissing her again. Before they know it, they’re tipping over, lying entangled on the wet ground. Sand stirs around them, slowly coating their skin and already-dirtied clothes as they press closer and closer into each other, but they realize that they just don’t care.

Moana is filling with warmth--so vast and full and overpowering that she can’t help but wonder if Merida still has some of that lava left in her. Whether she does or not, Moana can only form one thought as she laces her fingers through sandy red curls.

I’m never letting you go again.

***

When Merida next feels lava on her skin, it’s dozens of years later.

She doesn’t know what to make of it, waking up with cracked black rock on her skin again and streams of lava curling away from her scalp in fiery hair. But it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t hurt--it feels all too right. The power, the passion, the vigor of when she was taken over by Te Ka is there--but this time, she can control it.

Merida lived a long life. A happy life. She stayed on Motunui--even when the village began voyaging again, charting new lands, she always came back to their home with Moana. Her Moana. They passed together on a summer evening, lying on the beach with their hands entwined and the tribe safely in the hands of the fine young man they had chosen to be the next chief-to-be.

When Te Ka became Te Fiti, it appeared a vacancy opened--the need for a goddess of volcanoes and lava, now that the goddess of life had returned. Life was a cycle, after all--you couldn’t have green and growth and lushness with burning magma and barren rock and life sizzled out. That’s where Merida guessed she came in.

It baffled her, why some outsider like herself would be chosen for such an honor. She had worked hard at becoming a great warrior, protecting the people she had adopted as her own. But ascending to godhood? She didn’t deserve something like this.

And then she sees her walking over the horizon.

Her body is made entirely of water--curves in shining cyan, dress splashing around her laced with foaming whitecaps, hair whipping behind her in rippling ocean waves. But her hands, her face, her eyes--there’s no mistaking it’s her.

“Moana?” Merida whispers.

They run to each other, ripping across land and pounding through sea to reach one another. When they crash together, steam rises around them in graceful billows--the heat of lava and the cool of ocean, united into a gentle mist.

“Moana? How are we here?”

“The ocean chose me a long time ago, to return the heart of Te Fiti and restore life to the world,” Moana murmurs into her shoulder. “And now it’s chosen me again--for something more important. I’m one with the ocean now, making sure it brings and sustains life for all the generations to come. But you...you deserve to be here with me, contributing to the endless cycle.” She leans back and gives Merida a soft smile. “So I may have put in a good word for you.”

Merida laughs. “Are yeh sure et isn’t cuz yer too clingy tae let me go?”

Moana just smles. “That too. I guess eternity seems a lot more tedious to pass when you’re not there.”

They’re an odd pair. The goddess of the ocean, who gives homes to sea turtles and whales and bright fish, who guides ships between islands, who’s always there for someone to dip their feet in on a hot day...and the goddess of volcanoes, who explodes with burning magma, who rains ash and smoke across the sky, who brings unquestionable death to all those who don’t get away fast enough. But when they touch, when they kiss, when they tangle themselves up in one another, pieces of volcanic rock topple into the sea and grow lush and full with life bursting from every seam. The goddess of the sea and the goddess of lava make more life together than they ever could apart. 

Sometimes they must temper one another. An especially vicious volcanic explosion is stopped only by the cool calm of the sea. Fierce stormclouds that could sink ships are pulled apart by clouds of smoke and ash. Magma rises from the ocean floor, calming tsunamis. Rain puts out the worst of the fires from spewing lava. It’s a balance.

But at the end of the day, when the sky clears and new islands come to be, green and lush and full of fruit and palm trees and vines and animals that hum and chirp and buzz, there can be no doubt that the two goddesses can’t be without each other.

There can be no doubt that the goddess of the ocean and the goddess of volcanos are deeply--and eternally--in love.

***

WELL WELL WELL! A lot of people seemed to really like my Moanida Goddess AU, so I made a moodboard and started writing a drabble and...this happened, I guess? The story came out a lot longer and more angsty than I planned, but oh well--hope y’all like it!

Legit love how these two balance each other out. I feel like the chaotic, reckless “fire energy” of Merida definitely needs kind of a calm, rational “water energy” from someone like Moana. Merida needs someone level-headed to talk her out of doing Dumb Shit without being mean-spirited or talking down to her about it, and Moana needs someone like Merida to drag her out of her comfort zone and help her face off her demons and self-doubt and whatever. Literally a perfect match! God I fucking love Fire x Water pairings so much. Can you tell I’m also a fan of Zutara

Also yeah I’d definitely be on board with Moana x Te Fiti if Fi wasn’t a giant-ass goddess like 20 times Moana’s size. Can you tell? But sue me, that entire scene did in fact have sapphic vibes.

@takaraphoenix Moanida time!!!

Pic credits available upon request!

[stardancerluv]

Is There Love When Dating the King of Gotham?

Part One of Two

Summary: Roman’s been away and you realize what you need from him.

Note/Warning: small consensual sex scene, marking.

“Welcome Home, Romy!” You were tickled with delight. Roman had been gone for almost two weeks but now he was home. You had missed him terribly.

To pick him up at the airport, you had worn a lovely dress and had your hair and nails done. You even wore a necklace he bought you, that made you nervous, to be fair that necklace was worth more than what your business pulled for two years.

When he gave it to you, you had promised him you’d wear it on special occasions for him. So today with how much you missed him, you decided to wear it.

The rolls dipped and bumped its way across Gotham. He slipped his sunglasses off and sat looking you over. You could practically feel his eyes, that were as turbulent as an ocean, moving over you. “Baby,” He rasped, a smile spread across his face. “You’re so beautiful. Now, come here.” He beckoned to you.

Easily, you slid over to him. You shivered as you felt his hands on you. The smooth leather, the warmth of his hands just under the surface.

When your lips met you could taste one of his favorite scotches. He must have enjoyed it on the flight home.

Minutes later, barely able to part you managed to make it to the elevator to get up to the penthouse. Your clothes had become a serious annoyance and the kisses made your heart race.

******

“I love you.” You breathed. You arched against him as you came hard. Sweat dripped between the two of you. Barely able to focus, you clung onto him as he rolled and moved so he was above you. The sight of his hair hanging in his face and the sounds that poured from his lips was enough to get you excited all over again.

His lips pulled at your throat, as he sucked and nibbled against it. Scarves would be essential for the next few days, but you didn’t care. Part of you always found his marks delicious, they made your heart skip when you’d eye them later in the mirror.

“Y/N,” was a moan as it poured from his mouth, his breath hot as you felt him cum hard, deep within you. He rested his forehead against your shoulder as he trembled. You ran a hand through his wet strands.

His eyes were hooded with pleasure when he met yours. You shared a tired smile. Finally, slowly he came to rest beside you with a sigh. He held out an arm and you cuddled to his side. His arm came back around and held you close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Will you be running off later or will you be sitting with me at my table, my first night back after being away?”

You tilted your head so you could smile up at him. “You have me all night.”

“Good.”

You gently yawned. He had thoroughly tired you. You drifted off feeling his fingertips play absently with the necklace still on your throat.

*****

Stirring, you slowly let yourself wake up but then as you reached out and felt a cold bed, your dreamy state shattered. Your fingers felt a piece of paper and you snatched it.

Baby,

Headed down early.

Can’t wait to get my hands on you again.

See you at the table.

RBS

Annoyance crept over you and took ahold. “RBS.” You said in a snarky tone. You don’t know why then but suddenly it really irked you. Like you’d ever forget his name. Couldn’t he scrawl a heart, was it too much to write love Roman.

Just before he had left on his trip to solidify some business in Europe, it had hit you that he had never actually said I love you. You had. You knew in his own way he showed you that he did.

He had carved out a portion of his penthouse for you to have a studio. He made those men pay after kidnapping you. Now, you knew you were dealing with Roman Beauvais Sionis. He was incredibly feared in the underworld. He did not fuck around.

Until you, he was the only man in Gotham that came close to giving Bruce Wayne a run for his money when being seen as the richest or the handsomest bachelor in Gotham.

You also knew he had his share of heart ache, from past relationships and from his godawful family. A slap across the face was more of the norm than a slap on the back of encouragement. So you knew it had taken a lot for him to even be exclusive with you.

When you'd given him your unwavering loyalty and love, you had hoped for something. A little crumb. You knew he had missed you. This afternoon the intimacy had stolen your breath. But you still needed, wanted to hear the words. Even a little heart on the note would be a step in the right direction.

You swallowed back the tears the moment they filled your eyes. “You’re dating Roman. You should be happy someone like that even wanted to commit.” That night when you, Rebecca swished into the Black Mask, had swished in Rebecca had tried to catch his eye. But somehow, he liked your looks more.

With that as comfort, you pulled aside the blanket and got up. Shuffling past the end of the bed, you saw two very beautiful dresses. You stopped and gasped. Then you saw a little note.

Wear one for us tonight!

Saw these in a little boutique in Rome.

The scarves will be an amazing accent, work them like only you can.

RBS

This time reading the RBS, you rolled your eyes and your stomach churned. How had your throat ended up looking.

*****

You gasped, looking your reflection over. He certainly had been enthusiastic. You pressed your lips together. Delight filled you. A part of you enjoyed the sight of his marks besides the incredibly elegant necklace. But that was Roman’s effect on you. Something about it was sexy, but yes one of those scarves is going to be twirled around you.

******

Walking in, a smiled played on your lips. The place was buzzing. As you walked over to his table you stopped. You really should have slept longer or even taken longer with the scarf.

When your eyes landed on Roman, he had a wide smile across his face that made your heart squeeze. His arm was resting above the head of some girl who was looking up at him with sparkling eyes and a bright smile. He looked so relaxed, happy. Turning towards him she said something and you watched as he threw his head back and laughed.

You don’t know why, but all of a sudden you felt like some kind of kept puppy. The necklace suddenly felt heavy. As your thoughts began to swirl, you tugged at the scarf.

You went to the bar. On the side away from the patrons, you slid onto a stool.

The bartender looked bored. “Here you go, princess.” He slid your usual over to you.

You looked at him and swallowed the drink and attempted to swallow down your anger. “I’ll take another.”

He rose an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to ask again.”

He nodded and as he slid you the second one, you were nibbling on one of the cherries.

“One more.”

“Y/N.” You slightly jumped in your seat. As Victor then came around, you eyed him up and down from the corner of your eye.

“Roman is expecting you.”

“He seemed indisposed when I just saw him.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come to the table.”

It finally dawned on you, it was a bitch. That’s what they called female dogs. You felt like a kept bitch.

He had given you a collar, that let you know exactly what you were in the relationship. He wouldn’t want you straying, so he set up your studio to keep you within reach. And finally a good fucking here and there, to keep you loyal. It all came together.

“Y/N.”

“I heard you, Zsasz.” Carefully, you slid from the stool. Walking to the table, you now saw a sour expression splashed on his face. Yeah, he was so thrilled to have you sit with him after her and however many others. You couldn’t do this.

You undid the scarf. “Victor said you were ready for me?”

He looked up, his brow wrinkled as he sat there. You saw as he began to get up.

“Don’t unless you’re making rounds.”

His brows furrowed more.

“Here.” You dropped the scarf.

His eyes grew as he saw the marks. He held up the scarf. “Baby?”

“I... I...” You were at a loss of what to exactly say. “Never mind, Mr. Roman Beauvais Sionis.” So you turned and left.

You realized he had not followed you. You had not looked back, but you knew he wasn’t there.

Once upstairs, you went to his office. You unclasped the collar. As you did, tears finally filled and a few fell from your eyes.

Going to the bedroom, you slipped the dress off. Finding the dress you had worn earlier wrinkled and flat, you slipped it back on.

You managed to go down the hall to your studio. Opening the door, you flipped the light on. You pressed your lips together.

******

Roman sighed, as he disengaged his arm from Annie, he thinks that was her name. He managed to get his arm on top of the cushion.

“Listen, I will have you start off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

She smiled up at him with the eyes that caught the light. They would look good on stage he hoped. “But Mr. Sionis...”

“Roman, dear.” Oh he hated to be referred to as Mr. Sionis. He resisted the urge to shiver, it reminded him too much of his father.

She smiled a little brighter. “Roman, but I want a Friday or a Saturday.” A small pout formed on her lips. “Do I have to sleep with you to get a Friday or a Saturday?”

He threw his head back and laughed. Then he grew serious. “Darling, you better learn this fast. I am committed to my girl. And if you are going to work here, you will respect her like you would respect me. If you don’t, I fire you.”

Her cutesy face dropped. “I understand.”

He gestured to Zsasz, he came right over. “Find Y/N.” Zsasz nodded.

He turned his attention to the girl. “Ok, our little chat is over. Need money for costumes, write up a budget and we can talk again.”

Roman finally relaxed once the girl shifted and finally slid out of the booth. He was eager to have you by his side. With his time away, he realized just how much he missed you.

He grimaced as he looked at all that was his. It pleased him. But damn, seeing you today when you were there waiting at the gate. The way you ran over and felt against him when you wrapped your arms around him. How had he gotten that lucky, he was a cold hearted bastard. He had no idea but he was grateful.

The scent of your perfume tickled his nose just before he heard your voice. “Victor said you were ready for me?” He watched as you undid the masterpiece you had managed to make with your scarf.

Looking up, confusion filled him. As he looked closer, just above that beautiful necklace he bought you, he could see the marks he left on your throat. He was amazed. He had certainly been swept away by his passions. Though the way the diamonds twinkled on your slim throat and his marks, his stomach churned. Easily he wanted you all over again. He started to get up to welcome you to his table; he did enjoy being a gentlemen towards you.

He watched as you made a dismissive gesture with one of your hands. “Don’t unless you’re making rounds.”

His grew more confused.

“Here.” You then dropped the scarf in front of him.

He grabbed it. “Baby?”

“I... I..." He was at a loss. Were you upset? Who had bothered you? He’d wring their neck. Were you upset because he told you to wear the scarf? He knew how you liked to look classy and there was a chance with his love marks others would say other things. You were at a loss of what to say exactly. “Never mind, Mr. Roman Beauvais Sionis.” Your voice had become clipped as he then watched you turn and walk away.

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewamode @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @blackmasque @mrskenobi19

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Demon Alya submission (starts off angsty, gets fluffy at the end) made by Anon

Alya hissed with pain and strained to get up, but the magic sigils which had been chalked around her blazed with a strange pale light and her body slammed back to the hard cement floor. Her tail lashed back and forth wildly, hard enough that it hurt when its tip smacked against the wall, and her wings beat futilely to break out of the iron bindings that bent then flat against her back. “You sure we can’t work this out?” she asked in the best ‘temptation’ voice she could muster despite her pain. “I can give you power, wealth, fame…”

“I need no fame, demon scum,” boomed the exorcist who had bound her. He was an older man whose hair was going silver and who wore what looked like a cross between a priest’s cassock and a military uniform. He had a sword at his side whose blade was carved with holy sigils, and a few other exorcist accoutrements hung off his belt. Now he raised a book high while his eyes, which seemed almost to be trying to bulge out of his head, fixated on her. “All I need is the knowledge that you shall be destroyed forever, as God intended!”

Alya bit back a curse. She was still mad at herself for letting this guy get the jump on her, but by the time she’d realized that she was being followed, he was close enough to use some kind of magic spell to make her pass out. She’d awoken in what looked like a cheap basement, with a cement floor and bare plaster on the walls, and with sigils and iron bonds preventing her from escaping. “You can’t destroy me forever,” she snapped. “You might be able to banish me back to Hell, but I’ll be back on Earth eventually.”

Of course, that wasn’t a great scenario for Alya. Not only would she get in trouble for losing a fight with an exorcist, and not only would she fall behind on her soul quota, but her classmates wouldn’t know where she’d gone. It would be just like she’d abandoned them. And Alya couldn’t bear to think of how sad Juleka would be if Alya cut and run, or the rest of her cult, or… or Marinette. Alya knew Marinette would be devastated, and she desperately wanted that not to happen, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it.

Then the man laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little depraved beast? You’d love to be able to turn and wreck havoc once more. But I’ve found a way around it!” He tossed a little voodoo doll next to Alya. “I will bind your spiritual essence to this doll, then burn it. As the doll crumbles in the flame your spiritual essence will be split asunder. When I’m done you’ll be little more than millions of tiny bits of demon, each tied to a tiny bit of ash, and that ash scattered to the winds.” He grinned. “It could take thousands of years for the bindings to weaken enough for you to reconstitute yourself and even begin trying to regain a corporal form. And seeing as how you’ll be in utter agony the entire time, I highly doubt you’ll be sane enough to tempt any more innocents into your clutches!”

Alya gasped. What the man proposed might actually work, and would subject her to millennia of torture. And worse than that… by the time she put herself back together, her classmates would have been dead for millennia. She’d never see them again unless they went to Hell. And she’d never see Marinette, period, because that girl was so pure she’d surely get rushed right to Heaven the moment she died. 

She’d never see her best friend again. 

“You can’t do this!” Alya said, almost ashamed of how terrified her voice was but not being able to help it. “Please!”

“Silence, demon scum,” said the exorcist. “All your kind deserve this.” He began to chant, and Alya cried out in pain as she felt her essence being pulled towards the doll. She tried to fight it—

And then the door to the basement smashed open.

By the time Alya realized what was happening, she saw Rose—holding a flaming sword, wings spread to their full length, halo blazing such a righteous fire above her head that Alya could barely look at it—looming over the man, whom had been knocked into the wall and slid down. “YOU DON’T DO THIS!” screamed Rose in genuine rage. “EVER!”

The man stared at Rose in terrified shock. Rose glared at him, then turned to Alya and swung her sword at the sigils. They burst into a bright flash of light and vanished as soon as her holy blade touched them, and Alya was able to scrambled out of the former circle. A couple quick, careful strokes of Rose’s sword sliced the iron bindings from Alya’s back, and she sighed with relief as she stretched her wings.

“What are you doing?“ the man demanded. “Don’t free her! You are an angel, you must support our battles against demons. They are evil beasts who tempt others, so it is right that we hurt them! That we banish them and make them suffer all the pain they have inflicted—“

“IT IS NOT YOURS TO JUDGE!” screamed Rose loud enough that the man flinched back. She took an angry breath and said, “If a demon is doing something bad, then it is permissible to oppose that demon. I have opposed demons who were about to hurt or damn someone. But Alya was doing nothing, and even if she was, ‘opposing’ does not mean ‘torturing!’” She took a step closer and raised her sword. “The job of a holy warrior is never to inflict pain for the sake of doing so! To never do more damage than necessary to fight evil, to always show mercy where possible and encourage others to repent!” The fire on her blade blazed higher. “YOU ARE NO PALADIN!” she went on, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. “YOU ARE JUST A KILLER, AND—“

Alya hesitated, feeling on one hand that she really wanted to see this guy get absolutely thrashed by Rose, but knowing on the other she had an obligation to her friend. “Woah, woah, hold it,” said Alya as she quickly grabbed Rose’s hand to stop her from stabbing the exorcist. “He’s defeated, okay? You don’t need to kill him.”

“But he tried to kill you!” Rose said through teary-eyes. “You’re one of my best friends—“

“And I’m here to remind you that the stuff you said about you guys not being supposed to do more damage than needed applies to you too.” Alya bit her lip and looked at the exorcist who was now trembling with fear, his glee at his earlier successful tortures of Alya having seemingly already been forgotten. “Look, Rose, even if you can get away with killing the guy and not Fall or be stripped of your angelic status, you’ll still hate yourself for it tomorrow.”

The exorcist stared at Alya with bewildered eyes. “You are a demon!” he rasped. “You want her to Fall! I know it! All demons want angels to Fall!”

Alya frowned. “She’s my friend,” she snapped. “That’s more important the feud between our bosses.”

Rose was still standing with her blade raised. “But he hurt you,” she whispered. “You’re wonderful, and he hurt you, and I can’t just let that go.”

“Who said anything about letting it go?” Alya said. “Like, he tried to torture me to death. That’s really evil, so I’m pretty sure his soul’ll go to us when he dies, and that means we’ll have all eternity to get back at him.” Unless he repented and went to Heaven in the end, Alya thought, and if he did… well, that would be a bummer. She really wanted to get her claws at this guy. But she’d rather let this guy have that chance than have Rose kill him right there and suffer regret for it every day after for all her eternal life. “And even setting that aside, I can get the guy in jail with my Whisper powers. That way we know he can’t hurt anyone else.”

Rose was still hesitating, so Alya gently helped her lower the sword. “He’s not worth it,” she said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Finally, still trembling with rage and sorrow, Rose let Alya escort her out of the basement.

###

It only took Alya about ten minutes to jail the guy. She was quite skilled with Whisper, the power of demons to, well, whisper evil or hurtful thoughts into the minds of unsuspecting mortals. During her training she had learned how to convince humans that everyone hated them and was only pretending to befriend them out of pity, or that their spouse was cheating on them, or that—whatever the priest at church said—they really had done something beyond forgiveness and so might as well go forth and sin some more.

Now, though, Alya used that power to Whisper into the fanatic’s head. “There are demons everywhere!” she whispered. “In that trash can! On that curb! On top of that police car! If you don’t fight them, they’ll destroy Paris!”

The fanatic raved and ran around, swinging his sword wildly at the demons his mind convinced him were all around him. That, of course, led to police officers swarming and tackling him. Alya smiled as she watched Roger Raincomprix bundle him into his police car and take him away, saying something about asylums and institutionalization. “He won’t be bothering anyone ever again,” she said. Then she turned to Rose. “How did you find me?”

“You didn’t show up for that thing you were doing with Juleka,” Rose said. Both girls were hiding their spiritual forms and looked fully human, but Alya got the sense that if Rose’s wings had been visible they would have been curling around her like a cocoon. “She got worried and used a spell from your library to track you down. I was closer so I got to your first, but she’ll probably be here soon too.”

“I should text her to let her know I’m alright,” Alya noted. She took her phone, which the fanatic had left in a corner of the basement and which Alya had reclaimed, and sent a message to Juleka. “Want to get home?”

Rose nodded weakly.

Alya frowned. “Don’t beat yourself up over losing your temper,” she said. “It happens to all of us.”

“Sure.” Rose shrugged. “Uh huh.”

Alya paused. Clearly, she thought, Rose needed more help. And now that Alya was out of her bonds and was back in action, she was just the girl to help her. “Anyways, I’m going back to my place, and you’re coming too,” she announced.

Rose blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I said, we’re going to my place,” Alya announced. “Come on, Rose. You saved my life and I owe you one. Let’s get going.”

Rose clearly didn’t know what was going on, but she smiled a little and let herself be dragged along.

###

When the pair got back to Alya’s apartment, they dropped their guises and Alya sighed as she flopped back in her bed. “I never thought I’d see this bed again,” she murmured. “I didn’t think I’d see you, or Juleka, or… or Marinette again either.” She shut her eyes, knowing how badly she would have been hurt to never see the adorable fashion designer, and also knowing how much pain Marinette would have been in if Alya had just vanished. “Thank you again, Rose.”

Rose nodded weakly.

Alya got Rose over to the couch and settled down with her. “Why are you still sad?” she asked.

Rose hesitated, and Alya said, “If you don’t want to share it with me, that’s fine. We can just rest here; I’ll put on some cartoons or something until we both feel better. But if you’re sad, you can talk to me.”

It took a few moments for Rose to say something, during which time she slumped over and snuggled against Alya. One of her wings tickled Alya’s nose and she sneezed, which made Rose giggle. Then Rose cuddled deeper against Alya and said, “Am I a bad angel?”

“No way!” Alya said. “You’re awesome at what you do, and I’m saying that even though what you do makes it harder to me to tempt souls a lot of the time.”

Rose smiled at that. “But I almost didn’t save you,” she said. “And I almost murdered that guy after he was already defeated.”

“You did save me in the end, which is what counts,” Alya said. “You did your job. And while you got mad at the fanatic, you didn’t kill him.” She paused. “We’ve never had an all-out fight, so I can’t say for sure what would have happened if you’d tried to break my grip and kill the guy, but based on what I know of you I think you could probably have thrown me aside and killed the fanatic if you really wanted to do so. You didn’t, so you knew on some level killing him was wrong.”

“Right, but I still want him to suffer for what he did to you,” said Rose. “And I’m not supposed to. Angels aren’t supposed to hate, even when we’re fighting evil.”

“I’m not exactly an expert on what you guys believe,” Alya said slowly. “Since we demons and devils have a different system. But I think I read somewhere that your boss is really big on forgiveness and understands that everyone screws up sometimes. I don’t think He’d want you beating yourself up like this, and I think He’d be satisfied with how you saved the victim—me—and didn’t do any more damage to the guy once he wasn’t a threat anymore.”

Rose mulled that over for a few moments. “You really think so?”

“Sure,” said Alya. “Besides, any God who would get mad at you over—what, yelling a bit after stopping a torturer?—wouldn’t be a God worth worshipping.”

“Don’t say that about God,” murmured Rose, but she sounded a lot calmer. “That makes sense, though. Thanks, Alya.”

“Happy to help.” Alya gingerly scratched at the base of Rose’s wings, and she sighed in contentment.

“You know,” said Rose after a few moments of that, “You’d make a good angel.”

Alya jolted in shock at that, and Rose laughed. “Don’t say that!” Alya feebly protested. “Seriously, I—I would not want that job. I don’t like the idea that I’d have to be nice all the time because my boss demanded it. I like what I am, where I have the freedom to be how I want.” She realized she was blushing and tried to make herself stop. “Besides, I’m not that nice in general,” she went on. “You’re an exception.”

“Nah,” said Rose. “You’re nice. If you wanted to be an angel you’d be great at it.” She chuckled, and then she asked, “But I’m curious about one thing. That guy said that demons want angels to Fall, but you worked really hard to stop me from Falling today. Was that just because we’re friends, or do you oppose angels falling in general?”

Alya didn’t know why, but she was blushing again. “Uh,” she began. “Look, I’m all about freedom. That’s why I like my side of things in the first place. I think you should have freedom too, and if I thought you really, truly wanted to Fall, then I would offer my help to you—you know, finding some sin for you to commit that wouldn’t do anything too bad or hurt anyone you didn’t want to suffer—so you could live as you wished. But I know you, and I know that in your heart you don’t want to do anything so bad that you Fall. You like being a holy angel warrior for God. You love being able to spread blessings and help usher souls into eternal bliss. And if that’s your choice, I want to help you maintain it. Because we’re friends.”

The idea of friendship was still a new one to Alya, who of course came from a place where there was no such thing as friendship, where everyone was out for themselves and anyone dumb enough to admit to weakness would find that weakness mercilessly exploited by classmates, neighbors, and random strangers. But now that she was in the human world, she had friends, and she found that she liked it. (Granted, she had to keep her friendships hidden from her bosses—especially her friendship with Rose—but she was a demon and deceit came naturally to her, so that wasn’t too hard.)

Rose smiled gently. “I’m glad we’re friends,” she said.

The two stayed still for a few moments before Rose reluctantly raised herself up. “I guess I should go,” she said. “I’m sure you and Juleka need to do whatever you were planning on doing before you got abducted.”

“We were just planning on watching some fun anime and having some snacks,” said Alya. Then, as if on cue, she heard a knock on the door and grinned. “It’s open!” she called. Then she turned to Rose and said, “When I texted her earlier, I told her to get back to my place so we could resume our plans. That must be her now.”

Rose tried to get up, but Alya wrapped her tail around Rose and tugged her back down. “I don’t want to get in the way,” Rose said quickly. “I’ll leave.”

“No, you’ll join us,” corrected Alya. “Because this is my room, so I can invite who I want, and I want you here. Because this is my cult, so Juleka has to do what I say, and I say you get to stay.” Her eyes twinkled. “And because I know you and Juleka love spending time together, and so since you also had kind of a rough day, a little time with your favorite paladin and my favorite priestess is just what Dr. Alya ordered.”

Rose grinned at that. 

Then Juleka entered the room carrying a bag.  As soon as her gaze fell upon Rose she smiled brightly, and Rose returned that smile. “Alright,” Juleka said. “I’ve got the DVD for that anime you told me to find, ‘Kill La Kill,’ and your snacks.” She took some cups out of the bag. “Three hot chocolates—one with cinnamon, because I know that’s your favorite, Rose—some microwave popcorn, and pastries from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.” She paused. “Marinette told me she’ll be free in an hour or so. Would you want me to invite her?”

“Sure!” said Alya at once. She’d have to hide her demon form once Marinette arrived, of course, but it would be worth it to hang out with the fashion designer. Marinette always seemed to brighten up any room. “And thanks for helping Rose save me with the tracking spell. I owe you one.”

Juleka waved that off. “It’s a friend thing,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Such a sentence was something Alya would never, ever have heard in the demon world. Debts there were jealously maintained. But she liked this way, she found… even if she did intend on finding some way to reward Juleka for saving her life. “Sure,” she said to change the subject. “But I still appreciate it. Anyway, what kind of pastries did you get?”

“Angel food cake for Rose, lemon cake for me, and chili-chocolate cake for you,” said Juleka as she passed out the treats. Rose sniffed her cake and sighed at how wonderful it smelled. “I’ll pop in the DVD and then we can start the show.”

Juleka did so and then sat on Rose’s other side. Rose grinned and spread her wings wide enough to give partial hugs to both Alya and Juleka, and Alya’s tail flicked a bit before running against the other two girls’ backs. Rose giggled. “That tickles!” she said.

“Sorry,” drawled Alya. She bit into the delicious cake and grinned. Chili and chocolate was a hard combination to get right, but the Dupain-Cheng family were masters, and the cake was absolutely perfect. “My bad.”

“You’re not sorry,” said Juleka lightly. “That’s a lie.”

“Well, lying’s a sin,” chirped Alya. “And as a demon, that’s kind of my thing.”

Both of the other girls laughed, and then Rose draped her arms as well as her wings around the other two. Juleka hit the button on the remote and the show started.

Alya sighed, her pains from earlier almost completely forgotten as she relaxed with her friends. The human world was good, she thought. She was very glad she hadn’t been kicked out of it. And she’d try to stay in it—and be with the people she cared about, including the wonderful angel and the amazing human currently sitting on her couch—for as long as she could.

———

AW THAT WAS WONDERFUL

GO ROSE

I like how its been decided that between Rose and Alya theres a bad cop and good cop dynamic going on

Alya is the good cop

[rappaccini]

What do you mean by Lila being Vanya?

alright... something that always kind of eluded me about the character was why the things that worked clashed with the things that didn't.

because lila is a character that feels like she should be here, yet the way she is here is just so wrong. aside from the shitty sexism floating around the way tua's written it's female characters, and how it coagulates in lila being oh-so-special, it just always felt like something was broken about the way the character was conceived.

this ask, plus a little rewatch project i'm doing while i'm answering this, kind of... cleared that up?

lila pitts is two characters crammed together: lila pitts, and vanya hargreeves.

lila pitts is a mimic who works for the commission to cause chaos for the family while they're in dallas. she is a villain, the true spiritual successor to hazel and cha-cha, the chaos-loving commission agent who is here to fuck up number five in particular and carves a path through the hargreeves to do so. she is the secondary villain to the commission's primary, and because of how tua structures its antagonists, that means she needs to be the primary villain of season three.

as for the rest... lila's personality is such a goddamn mess because that isn't lila's personality, it's vanya's. lila's sudden be-our-sister redemption turn makes no sense because it isn't lila's plotline, it's vanya's. lila's romance feels so clunky because it's vanya's. the way lila dresses feels so out of place because it's the way vanya dresses.

she’s vanya’s replacement. she's vanya's younger, sexier, straighter replacement. and knowing that, i truly do hate it when i hear people praising the character.

"wow, lila's so snarky and fierce when she fights the umbrella academy? her one-liners are all so much fun! i love how much she delights in this!"

oh? like vanya in the comics?

“i love that lila's got such a sharp, biting personality and that she gets to be angry. i love how she always demands attention!”

so vanya, in the comics.

“i love how lila's past with abuse is given such a strong emphasis and how even though she pretends she's over it, she does sincerely need help. i love how that's the centerpiece of this story!”

right, like vanya. in the comics.

“i love lila's punkish aesthetic. i love that she's this sharp, chain-smoking badass.”

so ... vanya. in the comics.

(i swear to god if she gets vanya's platinum hair in season 3)

“i think it's so neat how lila faces off against number five! their scenes are so electric with how much they hate each other!”

yeah. like vanya in the comics.

“lila's so powerful! she's the most powerful of them all!”

uh huh. vanya. in the comics, and up until s2, the show.

“lila's the foil to the umbrella academy! the one super powerful girl, always alone, aligned with destroying the world, up against the family of less-powerful people, working together to save it!”

vanya. in both the comics and the show.

“i love lila and diego's relationship! i love how they’re the two edgy loners, together! they have such strong belligerent enemies-to-lovers chemistry!”

so. vanya, with diego, in the comics.

“i love how diego gets to show how gentle he is under that rough exterior through how he earnestly believes in the good in this girl he loves and asks her to stop being a villain and come home to the family with him!”

uh huh, and who do you think that girl in the comics was???

“i love how lila's getting a redemption arc and she's going to join the family because she was One Of Them All Along!”

yep. vanya. in the comics.

god. i get why people like the character. she was literally designed and framed to be as likable as possible.

but i hate it. when i see people lavish praise on the character i just... flames. flames on the sides of my face. nothing against the people, and everything against the thing they like. because lila is just a frankenstein’s monster of an actually original character concept being stitched together with pieces of a character that was here first, is native to the source text, and was its protagonist until that role was taken from her... for this oc to be given it on a silver platter.

the writers stripmined vanya's character, carved every scrap of her loose-- her arc and story beats from the show, and every single piece of who she was in the comics that wasn't yet adapted-- and handed it over to this newer, sexier, bouncier character because the powers that be decided that, oopsies, they actually did want comic vanya after all, but they did so after committing to a totally different version of the character. and they refused to do the work to build that character into her because they'd already concluded the vanya they had was only useful as glaad award bait and that page could only be trusted to play a flat, sanitized, underwritten version of himself and not the character he, a highly-acclaimed and experienced professional actor, was hired to play.

it's even more aggravating because lila-in-concept is phenomenal. she belongs in this story in a prominent role. she feels like the evolution of the john perseus* character in the comics.

*john perseus: the secondary villain of the dallas arc, who then takes hotel oblivion by storm as its primary antagonist. an abused, neglected single child of a corporate magnate (of the same gender as the child) who is an archenemy of the academy that they previously defeated. said child is set up as a foil of sorts to the umbrellas themselves, and they are determined to take after their abusive parent and avenge them by taking on a set of superpowers and using hotel oblivion as a weapon against the umbrella academy.

that's lila. that's who lila needs to be. not vanya, but a genderbent, racebent john perseus figure.

it's a good evolution. lila pitts is a strong enough character to be worth keeping and investing in, but you have to separate her out from vanya hargreeves first, and give vanya back what was taken from her.

this is to the benefit of both characters: vanya gets to be herself again and take her place back in the center of this story, and lila doesn't get saddled with someone else's leftovers-- she gets an arc of her own that she's actually suited to, so she can shine in her own right. she has a place in this story, but that place isn't vanya's.