#i do get new followers over time tho so my audience has more or less stabilized

[scribespirare]

So I'm considering starting a Miguel O'Hara x Reader on AO3 and was just wondering if you may have some ideas and tips, considering you masterfully capture Miguel's character in your flowerbite/flowerfang oneshots and whatnot. I've read them all, don't worry. I wouldn't say I'm new to the idea of writing fanfiction, but it's more or less finally putting myself out there as my primary audience has been my friends and, you know, could use some minor pointers, if you will. You don't have to answer. I'm just wondering because you're the main Spider-Man Across The Spiderverse Tumblr account I follow, so... idk.

Hey! I don't mind answering at all. X reader fics are very much not my thing but they have their place in fandom as much as any ship material. I'm gonna put this under a readmore cause it might get a little long!

First I'm gonna talk about some general stuff about adapting just about any character for fic! You might not need this anon since you sound like you already do some writing, but I figured I'd include it anyways

The best advice I can give is to spend time learning a character's voice and mannerisms. Even if you're not writing from their perspective, getting dialogue and movement down accurately can allow you loooots of leeway for being out of character in other areas, either on purpose or unintentionally. This can look like speech patterns, intonation, word choices, and accent, as well as when a character speaks up (are they a chatterbox? Are they the silent type? Do they have a tendency to butt in?). Physical mannerisms can look like nervous tics or habits (hair pulling, biting a lip, shifting weight), ways a character might move when they're speaking, or things like how they walk, run, sit, or fight.

OKAY so onto Miguel. The thing about Miguel is that...I actually don't know him as a character all that well. I'm just pretty good at doing all the above stuff and extrapolating what I can from atsv and fandom posts to fill in the rest. What I've put together so far is that he's a hero at heart, but one who's been pushed past the point of having hope in the world or future. He has resigned himself to doing the dirty work that no one else wants to because it's the only way he can imagine a future at all. This manifests in him being terse, angry, and difficult to be around or work with. When writing him I try to picture what could be the absolute worst case scenario of his current situation, and have him react as if that scenario is inevitable. That means disregarding his own emotions over every little thing and bitterly accepting losses or defeat in situations that aren't literally world ending, such as being broken up with or an having an argument (this makes him highly susceptible to manipulation btw if u like angst).

I don't always write him as miserable as his movie version tho, b/c I'm a softie and like fluff lmao. So for softer stuff I just kinda follow a tsundere archetype. He's gruff and rude but he will always always always support anyone he cares for, even if he'd never admit to it. With a lover I picture him as a little overbearing and possessive but squishy once you get to the core of him. The kind of guy who knocks out someone who slapped his partner on the ass and also cooks regularly for them and remembers important dates. But at the same time gripes at/about said partner, maybe shoves them around a little, and threatens them semi-regularly if they're tough or outgoing. For a softer love interest id imagine him as being overly careful with them instead, worried about hurting them with his size or strength or general shit attitude constantly.

As for the speech and physical aspects I was talking about, it's key to remember that he's quite literally part spider. Like has spider dna, not just magic spider powers like the others. He's faster, stronger, and has sharper instincts and reflexes. He moves and behaves like it. Like a predator in an overstimulating environment.

Speech wise, I find I like to have him slip into Spanish for particularly emotional or impactful statements, as well as for those little common expressions people use without thinking about them (hello, goodbye, how are you, curse words, stuff you say on auto pilot). He also mumbles a little and has a very casual speech pattern like any day to day American but not so casual as to use slang often or slip into AAVE the way Miles does. Very rude too, cutting people off or talking over them.

Okay I have prattled on for fucking ages now fjejdjsnsd I hope some of this helps???

[oswald-privileges]

ALL RIGHT BUT YOU ASKED FOR IT

Power of Three as a series is just. full of weaknesses, most of which come down to poor continuity and structure. I'm not gonna try and fix ALL of those, bc that'd be laborious as hell, but I will pick out things that I feel are the most egregious as case studies.

What Po3 does have, tho, is an absolutely shining strength in the concept of its three main characters. After twelve books of Blandly Heroic Protagonist Syndrome, Jayfeather is an absolute godsend. He's angry! He's rude! He's unhappy! He's not nice. I Love Him And He's My Son. Lionblaze has his invincible pride (hah) and emergent bloodlust, and Hollyleaf has her moral absolutism and certainty. These are good starting points for characters. Sadly, the lack of continuity undermines what could have been three really good character arcs.

So! I present to you:

HOW TO MAKE "WARRIORS: THE POWER OF THREE" NOT COMPLETELY SUCK ACCORDING TO MY PERSONAL TASTE; A NON-EXHAUSTIVE, NON-CONSECUTIVE LIST BY ME

ONE

- Have there be a persistant, overarching series threat. Sol is a character with amazing villain potential who does literally nothing except hang around, and do exactly 2 Bad Things completely off-screen. This Is Not Good.

- Instead, have him be present from the second book onwards- initially introduced as a friendly but enigmatic outsider who is slowly revealed across the series to be a complete black hole of a personality, a social parasite quietly rearranging whatever community he's a part of to just-so-happen to benefit him as much as humanly possible. His "preach individualism not starclan" methods are not so much values as one strategy out of many. (to those who know me- yes i have a type. no i will not apologise.)

- Maybe his ultimate goal is to dissolve and centralise the clans or something so that he can live out his life as a political puppetmaster in all the cat-luxury he likes. idk it's hard to imagine overall stakes for this rewrite BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL DOESN'T HAVE ANY

TWO

- For gods sake you don't have a series based on the premise of "the main characters develop super powers" and then only have the second power confirmed by the end of the fourth book. I understand the first book mostly focusing on Jayfeather- his powers are obvious from the start, he's got the strongest personality of the three, he gets access to most of the prophecy plot stuff because of them. But you NEED to have the other two show an interest in something concrete happening to them beyond that, and you need to at least hint towards the other two having something unique to them even if nobody clocks it yet.

- Have Jayfeather tell his siblings about the prophecy by the end of book two at the latest. The amount of time he spends noodling around not sharing it with them is inexcusable. It's not that it's out of character for him to hang onto a secret for a bit, it's just that there's no point and it slows everything down. It would be equally in character for him to go to his siblings and be like "look, i'm SPECIAL. well you as well but ALSO ME". Boy starts off as desperate for recognition, what can I say

THREE

- Have Jayfeather discover that StarClan don't withhold signs or information on purpose for the sake of "building courage and faith" or whatever nonsense. Seeing and communicating the future is metaphysically very difficult, so interpreting signs and messages is a genuine skill, or even an art. The cats of StarClan, however, really are just ghosts, much more similar to living cats than the currently living believe. This is the impotus for Jayfeather's discarding of his reverence for StarClan, which remains consistent throughout the series.

- Have Hollyleaf and Jayfeather both still change their cat careers in the first book, but put place more attention on the fact that they basically switched jobs. Have a scene where they end up yelling at each other, because can't the other see how lucky they have it? The tension breaks when they realise they've both lost something important to them- Jayfeather his chance to prove he's as capable as a sighted cat, and Hollyleaf her path to helping her clan in the way she thinks is best. They commiserate together, and reluctantly promise to do the best they can with their lots, so they don't waste the path the other wishes they'd taken. This closeness is eroded over the series as they disagree more and more on the subject of StarClan and its role in their moral choices and obligations.

FOUR

- Speaking of Hollyleaf! I nearly threw my phone across the room when the first Omen of the Stars book claimed that Hollyleaf "worked so hard to discover her power to help her clan". Where, Ms Erins??? I would have LOVED to have seen that!! Hollyleaf expresses absolutely no concern over the details of what power she has/will develop, and only has a couple of scenes even touching on her ambitions to help her clan. She has some vague ideas about becoming leader and like one scene where she gets to do some leadery things, but that never gets followed up on. What does happen is that the whole "warrior code" thing becomes more and more a part of her personality (for no clear reason) until she snaps.

- Hollyleaf going off the deep end is something I wanted so badly to get into and be moved by, because I could see where it comes from! Her moral certainty is fascinating, especially since it's based in something as abstract as the warrior code- which, when you think about it, isn't really... anything. There's no concrete set of rules that make it up, no traditional wording or cat philosophers, not even any fables. It's a handful of agreed-upon, common sense rules- don't cross boundaries, don't take prey that isn't yours, respect your ancestors, and don't murder. That's it!

- So, combining the above points, I think Hollyleaf not being one of the Three should stay, but both the audience and the characters are given good reason to believe she is. By around the third volume, make it so that Hollyleaf has found that her power is to get cats to "Do The Right Thing"- i.e. what she wants them to do. She sneaks off often to see Sol, who teachs her how to use this power. Her siblings are concerned about this new power, having already gotten a glimpse at what Sol can do, but she's confident that she can only use this power for good. Volume-specific plot happens, Sol manipulates her into causing him to win, she is shocked and horrified, and vows to stick ridgedly to what she knows is right i.e. The Warrior Code

- However, the more fervently she tries to stick to this abstract idea, the less it gives her results, the more her power seems to be failing. Believing that StarClan is taking her power away from her, she becomes caught up in a faith-guilt spiral that puts her in the position to snap at the end of the series. By that point it's clear to her siblings that Hollyleaf has no power- she was just very, very good at persuading people to do what she wanted.

FIVE

- Lionblaze is a girl now because I Said So. This Cat Is Trans And There's Nothing You Can Do About It.

- Her relationship with Heathertail stays the same- childhood sweethearts who are torn apart as they begin to understand the nature of the societal divides that exist between them.

- This can be used to contextualise the whole "half clan/outsider blood" thing as a cultural contradiction. In reality, inter- and outer- clan relationships aren't at all rare. They can't be, otherwise the whole society would be inbred out of existence in like five generations. But if at least one society of humans can spend a good 200 years pretending Sex Is Bad And Sinful Actually then cats can have persistant cat-racism in the face of all logic. Heathertail clocks this contradiction, Lionblaze doesn't.

- Her relationship-to-power arc doesn't need changing all that much either, other than starting much sooner and being more consistent. At first, she's completely overjoyed by her power, since unlike her siblings, it lines up so well with her ambition- become the finest warrior any of the clans have to offer. As the berserker rage aspect becomes more prevelent, she becomes more and more disturbed by the fact that she isn't disturbed by what she can do, and that she doesn't want the escalation of her power to stop.

- Tigerstar still does his thing, but Brambleclaw knows about it. He recognises the signs from when his father used to visit him, and tries to train Lionblaze in his own way. She ends up caught between wanting to be a good warrior, and testing the limits of her power.

SIX

- Jayfeather can stay basically the same because he's my perfect little angy boy and nothing needs to change. His arcs can be strengthened by having a more robust relationship with Yellowfang where they try to out-bitch each other, and coming to terms with his internalised ablism. Maybe he has a chat with Mothwing about faith a couple of times. Him furiously lashing out at being offered help transitions into an acceptence and understanding of his abilities more naturally. He never stops being A Grumpy Old Man.

- All fucking past-lives unexplained time travel goes in the BIN. Doesn't fucking happen. You can have that lore dump sprinkled across the books, or come from going deep into the tunnels and having a surreal meeting. Make it properly eldritch-level scary, shake Jayfeather's confidence in the idea of them being just a bunch of ghosts.

SEVEN

- Have the way Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight present very clearly as parents to the Three be explicitly, textually unusual. One of the things I liked so much about the first series was an almost total lack of emphasis on who was mated with who, and who was related or not. It felt very real to how feral cat colonies form, where raising kittens is a communal job. This gets completely dropped the moment series 2 starts and now the cats have monogamy.

- This emphasis on the family unit and fostering close relationships between parents and kittens is deliberate on the part of both Leafpool and Squirrelflight. Their aim is to cover for Leafpool so she doesn't lose her role as medicine cat- something she already gave up Crowfeather for before she was pregnant.

- In that little bit of backstory, have a robust reason for both Leafpool and Squirrelflight to leave the camp while Leafpool is pregnant and giving birth, possibly one that ties into the present day story in some minor way. I don't know how, it would just make that element of the story a lot more ground than "we left, the kits were born, then we came back and everyone was cool with it"

- When it comes to the "I am Not your mother" reveal, Jayfeather and Lionblaze are confused and hurt that they were lied to, but come to the reasonable conclusion that well, since they were raised mostly by Squirrelflight, saw Leafpool often, and are loved by both, they don't hate her. Lionblaze has something of a crisis over being half-clan, possibly initiating an attempted reunion with Heathertail. Jayfeather is more concerned with how other cats will think it makes him lesser, something he's still sensitive too.

- Hollyleaf, meanwhile, completely fucking snaps at the way her mother Violated Part Of The Code. It's a completely irrational reaction, but expected because she's been growing more and more reliant on The Code for the whole series, and less and less stable in her attempts to aid her clan and train to be its new leader.

- Squirrelflight is the one to murder Ashfur. This is easy to work out while reading- she's literally the only one of the four with a motive who isn't a perspective character. The mystery is less around finding out who did it, and more about why she did it (it's very ambiguous as to whether it was an accident or not). The main tension comes from who finds out when.

- Lionblaze is shocked, awed by how far she'd go to protect the three of them, and reassures her she did the right thing (as a way to salve her own uncertainty over her own longing for violence). Jayfeather makes it all about himself because he's Jayfeather- upset that he didn't know immediately, instead of, you know, figuring it out in a few hours because he can basically read minds. They try their best to hide it from Hollyleaf, who is already rattling around the final volume as a full-on antagonist, but are unsuccessful. This almost costs them something incredibly important- possibly Squirrelflight's life.

EIGHT

- the whole plot with the Tribe Of Rushing Water is a MASSIVE can of worms that could be removed from the series without issue. As it is:

- Characterize the Tribe as uncertain of how to fight other cats, because yes, they haven't had to do this before. DON'T characterise them as pathetic, doing whatever their leader says without thinking, and with ancestors who have Given Up

- Have some of the Tribe be really good at the violence. Worryingly good. Have others be sickened by what they're being asked to do.

- Have some of the clan cats reflect on what they've done. Hollyleaf would be all for introducing this society to jesus The Code, but even she might be horrified at being thanked by a tribe cat who can't wait to get out there and win themselves glory, only to be killed a few hours later

- The Tribe begin a new tradition of marking the walls in the mud they use as camoflage in order to commemorate their battles, and memorialise the fallen. One of the characters reflects on the fact that in a generation or two, the Tribe will feel like it's always been this way. How many of their own traditions- those that feel almost like natural law- started out the same way?

- Have Sol as the leader of the invaders, or maybe having insinuated himself into the tribe as a "mediator" and doing his charismatic cult leader thing.

NINE

- Cinderheart isn't a reincarnation of Cinderpelt. She's just named after her bc Cinderpelt saved her mother from a badger. this is because I think the reincanation thing is stupid and I can't think of a way to make it good.

TEN

- No more using tails as hand gestures like covering people's mouths. Never. None of it. It's expunged from existence.

Disclaimer: I haven't read Omen of the Stars yet, so I can't account for anything that might happen in that series that's grounded in Po3. I'm like... two thirds of the way through the first volume. I'm Not Impressed.

[ourownsideimagines]

Hide My Wings Tonight: Not Another Gloomy Play (Chapter 5)

Surprise! Not dead! I suddenly got the oomph today to finish not one but TWO chapters. Chaoter Six will be posted later, but I figured after two years of waiting I would go ahead and put up Chapter 5 right now.

Read it here on AO3!

Or read it below the cut

Based on the one-shot request by @jinxthequeergirl

---

Aziraphale had not seen his sister filled with such joy in centuries as he did in the years following the beginning of her and Crowley’s arrangement. Not that he knew of said arrangement of course, but he didn’t question what his sister did as long as she was happy. He worried about her, that much was for sure, but after she’d blown off his question the first twenty times he’d stopped asking, and started to enjoy the smile she once again gave so freely.

And (name) enjoyed learning to dance. Her demonic partner was not the best at the task, but they were learning together by watching others, and interacting. No one would question their presence at parties and masquerades. And though (name) would never admit it, she enjoyed spending time with Crowley. There was something about him that drew her in. Perhaps that was just how demons were. Enticing to even the purest of minds. Or maybe just to her.

She didn’t like Crowley, Heaven’s no - how could she, he’s a demon - but his company was a nice change from her doting brother and the snobs up in Heaven.

And of course, with their first arrangement, came another one. One that would change the world forever

You see, arrangements can be a tricky thing. 

The one that (name) had with Crowley was simple enough - Crowley would help (name) learn any new dance she desired, as long as she was willing to help him with small things. She had been a bit reluctant to these terms at first, but found that there was some joy in her disobeying Heaven. It was like a huge fuck you to Gabriel behind his back.

Did his coat need mending? Simple enough - it might not look beautiful, but it was presentable. Did Crowley need a name? Most certainly, (name) could get that. Did he need help getting into somewhere he couldn’t get into otherwise? Not a problem, (name) was good at talking her way into places. Did he need Aziraphale distracted for a while while he did some misdeeds? (Name) could turn a blind eye and take her brother out to lunch. Whatever he asked for, (name) was willing to do it.

Aziraphale had caught onto them rather quickly, much to (name)’s dismay. He’d been upset. He didn’t know about the dancing, but he knew that she’d been sneaking off to see Crowley and to help him with his hellish intentions. It had taken hours for (name) to get him to calm down and listen.

And that was how the second arrangement began. This one was just a bit trickier to get away with. After all, hiding something from Aziraphale was one thing. But hiding something from heaven was another - they had eyes everywhere. Even if it didn’t seem like it, someone was bound to be watching. And if not now, then later.

Aziraphale had been against the idea for so many years, helping  Crowley, or God forbid, getting Crowley’s help. But with the way (name) and Crowley insisted it could do us some good, how was he to resist?

So that was how it had been, for many years. The angels helped the demon, and the demon helped the angels. Heaven hadn’t noticed, and as far as (name) knew Hell hadn’t either. That didn’t mean any less sneaking around - Aziraphale refused to meet with Crowley privately. It always had to be in a crowd, somewhere inconspicuous.

And the Globe Theater during the preview of Shakespeare's new play, Hamlet, was anything but.

Aziraphale had promised a crowd, but (name) could count no more than fifteen heads among the crowd - that included the Bard himself, and the woman carrying snacks, Juliet. As they waited for Crowley, Aziraphale purchased himself a bunch of grapes, miracaling a coin out of nowhere.

“If you were going to do that,” (Name) said as Juliet walked away. “You could have just miracled yourself some grapes.”

“Now where would be the fun in that.” Aziraphale said, smiling down at the fruit before popping one of them into his mouth. He glanced around quickly. “He’s late.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.” She teased. “Stop looking so nervous. You’re the one who wanted to meet with him here.”

“Yes, well, I assumed there would be a much bigger crowd.”

“There’s never a crowd for a show like this.” (Name) argued. “People are depressed enough as is, they don’t want to be going to a show that will just make them feel worse.”

“I don’t feel any worse.” Aziaraphale argued.

“Yeah, well, you’re also not like everybody else.” The two were silent for a moment. Then, almost as if she could sense him, (name) turned her head and watched as Crowley sauntered into the arena. He saw them, and took no time at coming to stand beside (name).

“I thought you said we’d be inconspicuous here. Blend in with the crowd.” (Name) wanted to smile at this. Aziraphale, on the other hand, huffed, and ate another grape before he spoke.

“That was the idea.” He grumbled, glancing over at the demon. Remembering his manners, he offered the fruits to him. Crowley, however, ignored them. 

“Ah, hang on.” The demon grimaced. “This isn’t one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones, is it?” He scrunched up his nose. “No wonder nobody’s here.” (Name) smiled at this.

“Shh, it’s him.” Aziraphale grasped his sister's arm, catching her attention.

“Prithee, gentles, madam.” He said. “Might I request a small favor? Could you, in your role as the audience, give us more to work with?” (name) tried not to frown at this, but she had never been very good at controlling her mouth - both what came out of it, and what shapes it decided to make. Shakespeare didn’t seem much interested in her tho, his eyes focused more on Aziaphale who asked;

“You mean, like when the ghost of his father came on, and I shouted ‘He’s behind you!’?”

“Just so!” Shakespeare said. “That was jolly helpful. Made everyone on the stage feel appreciated. A bit more of that.” (name) wanted to argue. She wanted to say that it made no sense, but she didn’t have the chance. “Good Master Burbage, please! Speak the lines trippingly.” The actor on stage didn’t take the advice too well, and (name) was sure he was ready to explode on the bard at any moment.

“I am wasting my time up here.” He hissed.

“No, you’re very good!” Aziraphale insisted. “Isn’t that right, my dear sister?”

“I-” She bit her tongue. Aziraphale has a bad habit of putting her on the spot like this. That, plus a loose tongue, was never a good pairing. “Yes. I just love all the… talking.” She said.

“And what does your friend think?” The actor asked, clearly looking towards Crowley.

“He’s not our friend. We’ve never met before, we don’t know each other-”

“I think you should get on with the play.” Crowley interrupted Aziraphale, and (name) had to raise a hand to cover her mouth. If Aziraphale heard her laugh, he would surely lecture her later.

“Yes, Burbage. Please.” Shakespeare said. The actor continued.

“To be or not to be - that is the question-”

“To be!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “I mean, not to be! Come on, Hamlet. Buck up!” He turned to (name) with excitement, but it quickly died when he saw the bored look on not only her face, but on Crowley’s as well. Still, the actor gave him a grateful thumbs up and continued on. (name) had to keep from laughing when she noticed Shakespeare mouthing along to the soliloquy, looking very proud of himself.

“He’s very good, isn’t he?” Aziraphale gushed.

“Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety.” Crowley dramatized. (name) watched as Shakespeare reached for his pocket, stating how he ‘liked that’ and wandered away while scratching it down on a scrap of paper.

They stood there a few moments longer, listening to the soliloquy.

“What do you want?” Aziraphale finally spoke, popping another grape into his mouth. (Name) took this opportunity to snag a few, cradling them in her hand as she trained her eyes on the man standing on stage.

“Why might you be insinuating that I might possibly want some?” He was behind them now, coming to stand on Aziraphale’s side.

“You’re up to no good.”

“And the two of you are up to good, I take it? Lots of good deeds?” (Name) spared him a glance. He wasn’t even trying to pretend that he was watching the play. Even behind his glasses she could see him glancing at her, then back to Aziraphale.

“Well there is no rest for the…” Aziraphale paused, causing (name) to snicker. The actor on stage threw her a look, which she chose to ignore. “Good.”

“We’re meant to be heading up to Edinburgh at the end of the week. Aziraphale has a couple of blessings to do and I have a minor miracle to perform.” (Name) popped a couple of the grapes into her mouth - they were the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, causing her to hum with joy.

“Oh? Is that right?” Crowley looked at her again and (Name) fought to keep a smile off her face. “Well, I’m meant to be heading to Edinburgh end of the week as well - tempting a clan leader to steal some caddle.”

“Doesn’t sound like hard work.” Aziraphale piped in, too focused on the play and his food to realize what was coming next.

“Well, that’s why I thought…” this caught Aziraphale’s attention, and he all but snapped his head in Crowley’s direction. “Well, it’s be a bit of a waste.” Crowley was starting to smile again. He knew exactly what he was doing. “All of us going all the way to Scotland.”

“You cannot possibly be insinuating,” Azirapahe was beginning to raise his voice, and (Name) hushed him before the actor could throw another tantrum. “What I infer you are implying.” He said in a hushed tone.

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.” Crowley was turned to watch the play now, but (name) never looked away from him. “The arrangement-“

“Don’t say that.” Aziraphale demanded.

“Our respective head offices don’t actually care how things get done, they just want to know they can cross it off the list.

“Yes, but if hell found out they wouldn’t just be mad,” Aziraphale reminded him. “They would destroy you.” The joy of seeing the demon had finally worn off as (name) let Aziraphale’s words sink in.

They would destroy you.

“Nobody ever needs to know.” Crowley said, lifting a hand to show them a rusted coin. “I’ll toss you for Edinburgh.”

There was a pregnant pause. (Name) could feel the words forming on the tip of her tongue. We shouldn’t do this, she wanted to say. It’s way too dangerous. But she couldn’t. Because a life without seeing Crowley every now and again would be… well, she’s not sure it would be worth living.

“Fine,” Aziraphale sighed. “Heads.” Crowley smiled. Then, he held the coin out to her.

“Would you do us the honor?” He asked. As (name) took the coin, her fingers brushed gently against his own, and despite how well dressed he was and how warm it was, his fingers were cold. Aziraphale’s eyes were trained on the coin so he didn’t see when Crowley gave her a sly wink.

The other arrangement.

(Name) held onto a sigh as she flipped the coin, fingers snapping gently as she did. When the coin landed, she knew it would be tails, but she played her part and gave a small groan of annoyance.

“Well, brother of mine, it looks like we will be the ones going to Scotland.” She displayed the coin. “Guess I’m just a bit unlucky.” She lied.

Before either of them could speak, they heard the bard moaning from the other side of the pit.

“It’s been like this every performance Juliet, a complete dud. It would take a miracle to get anyone to come and see Hamlet.” (Name) didn’t miss the look Aziraphale gave Crowley. The same face he gave her when he wanted something sweet, or was begging her to help him get a new book.

Crowley scrunched up his nose, but let out a defeated sigh.

“Fine, I’ll do that one.” He said. “My treat.”

“Oh, really?” (Name) shuffled a bit, annoyed words threatening to spill from her lips. But Crowley spoke up quickly.

“I still prefer the funny ones.” He gave (name) one last glance before making his way toward the exit of the theater, probably on his way to start on his demonic miracle. It was at that moment that (name) realized she was still holding Crowley’s coin.

“Oh, bugger.” She muttered. “Could you hold on a moment, brother. I will return in just a moment.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Quite. Just need a breather, is all.” He didn’t seem to like that answer, but didn’t argue as (name) tore away from him and walked towards the theater exit. As she popped out onto the empty streets, she could feel eyes on her. To her left, Crowley was leaning up against a wall, waiting for her.

“Sneaky bastard.” She said, “You forgot something.” She said, holding out the coin to him. He stared at it for a moment, but didn’t hold out a hand to take it. So she pulled back, slipping the coin into a pocket she had secretly sewn into her dress. “Is everything okay, Crowley?”

“How are you?” (name) was taken aback by the question, but Crowley seemed genuine in his curiosity.

“I am… fine.”

“You seem happy.” He said. “Even if you weren’t enjoying the show, you just seem… happier.”

“Well,” (name) started. “I am. Times are changing. I haven’t had to visit upstairs in quite a while. And Aziaraphale is happy. So I am happy.”

“Good. That’s… good.” There was silence between them. “I still owe you from last time, too.” He said. (name) hummed in agreement - she hadn’t gotten her promised dance lesson for the last temptation she had assisted him with.

“I guess this next one will just have to be a bit longer, then, no?”

“It would seem.” Crowley was smiling. “Have fun in Edinburgh, Angel.”

“Have fun with Hamlet, Demon.” She shot back, trying not to laugh as he grimaced. Crowley pushed off the wall and began to saunter off, leaving (name) to return to her brother. When she reached into her pocket, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself.

The coin was gone.

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Continuing on from part 1 - 

https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/635068926214258688/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzels-return-part-1

Summary: When Rapunzel tries to defeat the Saporians by herself she gets captured; but once Varian realizes that the Separatists plan on using one of his potions' destructive properties to destroy Corona, he and Rapunzel work together to stop it.

Let’s Talk About What a Let Down the Sapiorans Are

Throughout seasons one and two the Sapiorans were built up to be this intriguing race of people with a complex past and real problems that are sadly relatable to this day. They had a history, goal, motives, and special abilities like magic.  

Yet all we got was a really bad hipster parody. 

Heck, the crew can’t even keep it’s stereotypes right because they mostly slide into hippy territory instead. Hipsters, Yuppies, and Hippies are three distinctive counter culture movements for three different generations with completely different social concerns and fads. 

Basically Chris tried to “stick it to the kids” again and just wound up insulting his parents' generation instead because he’s that oblivious of other human beings.

And that’s not even taking into account that previously the Sapiorans were living on the run as nomads in caravans not dissimilar to common Romani stereotypes, so the show is once again making negative racial connotations due to thoughtlessness.

Why Do You Have a Secret Underground Room Hidden Behind Your Workshop Xavier?

Like that not a thing normal people happen to have lying around there workspace. We still are given zero explanation for why Xavier has all this plot convenient knowledge and rare unordinary plot useful stuff. 

Given his previous connection to Saporia and Zhan Tiri wouldn’t it not have made more sense to reveal that he is an actual plot important character in season three rather than keep him as just the exposition fairy? 

So Was This Before or After the Saporian Take Over? Cause Either Answer Makes This a Dumb Plan.

Why would the guards, especially Cap, just give up? Did they even bother fighting and then lost to Varian’s weapons or were they told to stand down by a brainwashed Frederic? If they knew something was wrong then why not stay and help? What makes them think they even could find Rapunzel given how no one knew where she was heading and her letters were infrequent? What difference would they think finding Rapunzel would do? 

Basically, just like with the “former cellmate” line, we needed to actually set up and establish this conflict rather than relying solely on exposition dumps. Because what we get here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It goes against established character and leaves a lot of unanswered plot holes. 

More Promotion of Authoritarianism From the Show

Remember that these are the same people who formed a lynch mob to hunt down a fourteen year old all because the king told them to. The same king who had been lying to them for years and placed their lives and homes in danger for months. The same king who persecuted the poor and orphans for years. Him suddenly sending townsfolk to the mines isn’t anything new, so what are these people’s breaking points? Anyone else would have revolted by now.  

But noooo, they need Rapunzel to do it for them. Cause Rapunzel is royalty and they can’t do anything without royal permission because they’re sheep. Sheep that’s been subjugated for years and conditioned to be afraid of their “beloved ruler”. 

I understand from a meta point of view why you would want your main character to take charge but...

Like this isn’t inspiring.

It’s disturbing. 

Why are we promoting blind loyalty to a person who’s not earned it just because they were born special? In a freakin’ kids show no less! 

Oh and still no one bothers to call out King Frederic’s abuses here, FYI. 

Take Note That Quirineon is Activated By Heat

This will be important later on in the review. 

He’s Already Built Grenades For You. Wouldn’t Those Be Better Because They’re Easier to Control?

He’s already built explosive chemicals for you. You just used them in part one of the episode. And it came in an easy to use form rather than an unstable, and untested, mess that could literally blow up in your faces since no one, not even Varian himself, knows how to control it yet. 

You Don’t Hammer Out a Cast Iron Pan

It’s literally in the word. To make a cast iron pan you pour the metal into a casted mold. You don't hammer it out like you would with a sword or something. And you can’t even go with the “rule of cool” here cause Rapunzel surrounded by molten metal and fire would have been far more impressive looking.  

Yes I’m being picky cause I’m stalling. I don’t care. This is just yet another instance of the crew not paying attention to details like they should. 

Behold The Final Time Eugene Will Ever Call Out Rapunzel’s BS

This is the last time Eugene will hold an honest discussion with Rapunzel like an equal to her. By the end of this episode he will have transitioned into full on doormat mode. 

Also burying negative feelings and not addressing issues is who Rapunzel is. She’s been pulling this shit since day one. It’s what causes 90% of the conflicts in the show. Have you not noticed Eugene?  

So This Episode Has Contradictory “Lessons” 

The episode presents this idea that Rapunzel needs to open up to others and trust again after Cassandra’s betrayal. The problem is that the episode doesn’t follow through on that. It makes a knee-jerk decision to go with a “responsibility” lesson that wasn’t built up to instead at the last minute. 

More on this later.    

Varian Doesn’t Actually Interact With the Saporians at Any Point.

The only person Varian interacts with is Andrew. We have no concept of how he fits in with the rest of the group and what his dynamics are with them. What do they think of Varian? What does Varian think of them? The consequence to this is to further divorce Varian from narrative, even though this is supposed to be his redemption episode. 

As I said in the last part, you can easily write Varian out of this episode and nothing really changes plot wise. That’s bad writing. 

Also I was robbed of Khary Payton and Jeremy Jordan exchanging lines. I was this close to having audio material for my BH6 crossover, dang it! 

Behold The One Time the Black Lady Gets a Line!

I think her name is Juniper? 

You can tell it’s her because of the shadow on the wall.

Anyways they casted this part and only bothered to give the character a single line? What a waste! 

But this just goes back to the series' poor representation. The only WOC in the show are presented as “shifty” and untrustworthy, even when they are ultimately “good guys”. The majority of them are straight up villains tho, and even as antagonists they’re not afforded any real screen time. 

And the only other outright black women on the show is the inventor lady who was given zero respect and the ghost of a barbarian. 

Once again, I don’t think the crew are intentionally racist. I think they’re just sloppy. They wanted to be more inclusive but they failed to actually give voice to minorities behind the scenes and so failed in representing them well. This is a problem with the industry as a whole, not just this one show, and must be talked about as such if we wish to change things for the better. 

None of this “Stuff” Holds Any Real Meaning

We get several callbacks to season one through Cassandra’s personal things that she left behind, but none of this stuff holds any real personal meaning. It’s just there. They wind up triggering these big emotional reactions from both Rapunzel and Cassandra but the audience is just left confused because what they’re crying over are things that have little significance to these characters. Even this line from season one is just dripping with sarcasm and not some pleasant past memory that either Cass or Raps holds dear to their hearts. 

Way To Go, Dumbass

It’s not that she went alone, or that she broke down when it finally hit her that Cass left, that I’m making fun off. The episode already addresses those two points. 

No, what ticks me off is that Rapunzel has taken down killer robots, ghosts, and monsters before now with her magical hair but a handful of regular dudes can just bring her down? I don’t care how much alchemy they got. Depowering your main character for no stated reason just for narrative convenience is poor writing. 

Because If He Didn’t He Would Have DIED, Rapunzel!!!

He literally would have freakin died had he not done something! He was left inside a jail cell to rot away! Before that he was threatened with hangman’s noose! Before that violence from an angry crowd! Before that he was left alone to starve and/or die from exposure! There was no way out for him except to fight! 

And here you are inside the very prison that you kept him in and you still don't have the fucking self awareness to put two and two together! 

This Right Here the Assassination of Rapunzel’s Character and the Killing Blow to the Series

Yeah, and what about after the storm? Hun, bitch!?

We’ve spent two damn seasons watching Rapunzel stepping on people and making excuses for herself and the one time when she should realize her actions are wrong and finally own up to her behavior and she still does not fucking change.

This is supposed to be a coming of age story! That means the main character is supposed to grow and learn shit! But when it matters most, Rapunzel only digs in her heels and refuses to change! 

Why should I care about this character anymore if she’s just going to keep on being selfish no matter what? Why should I bother watching the show if it fails to deliver on its premise? How is this in any way shape or form an appropriate message for children!? 

If you’re watching the series for the first time, then it’ll take awhile to register just how awful this scene is and how it really is the beginning of the end, because they did have time to turn things around after this. But they didn’t, and here we are. 

This Isn’t a Real Apology

It’s not a real apology if all you do is make excuses for yourself. Rapunzel doesn’t address what she actually did wrong here and it has nothing to do with her stupid promise. 

She neglected and enabled the abuse of a child for a year and three months, and she’s not even sorry for it! 

You Were Never a “Friend” Rapunzel

Friends, actually do shit together. They enjoy each other’s company. They care when the other is hurt or in trouble. 

Rapunzel only came to see Varian when she needed him for something. Even now, after this confrontation, that’s all she’ll ever do. She does not actually care about Varian, because the creators will not let her care. 

And Here Comes the Death of Varian’s Characterization

In order to make this stupid, forced, “redemption” work the writers had to do a complete 180 with Varian’s character and his motivations. Instead of freeing his father, seeking revenge, or just, you know, surviving, he now suddenly cares about “being friends” and “being accepted by people”, only he has no reason to want any of that! 

Rapunzel is a shit friend. Heck all the mains are crap friends to him. They ruined his life and the townspeople tried to kill him. Why would he want anything to do with any of these a-holes!? 

Varian doesn’t get assassinated in the same sense as Rapunzel and Cassandra do. He doesn’t suddenly become a hateable dumb douchebag or anything, but he nevertheless has his character retroactively sabotaged by the writing.  

Uh, Were You Not There When Your Dad Rounded Up a Lynch Mob Against Him, Raps?

I believe you were. Also Varian literally told you to your face that he had to go into hiding cause the townspeople were willing to attack him just because those rumors that you failed to stop and pretended not to know anything about. 

Just because the characters shout something repeatedly does not make it true. The audience isn’t dumb. They can remember what happened only two seasons ago. 

Where Was the Inciting Incident For This Change of Heart?

Why should he even want their forgiveness? Why has he given up on freeing his father? Why is he having second doubts about overthrowing the kingdom that persecuted him? 

If you’re going to drastically change a character’s motivations, goals, and moral alignment then you need to present an in story reason for that change. We don’t get that. There’s no inciting incident on screen for us to see the shift in his character development. 

The audience is left to only infer, and that’s poor writing. The audience shouldn’t have to do the work of the writers for them.  Characters’ motivations and goals  should not be guess work. 

The only thing we can glean from this is that he had a change of heart while in prison and that’s a horrifying thing for the show to suggest. That’s basically justifying Frederic’s abuse. It also recontextualizes Varian’s arc into one of submission to his abusers and not one of learning to do the right thing simply because it’s right. 

Once Again, Were You Not There For Season One Rapunzel?

They had a year and three damn months of chances. These people actively tried to do him harm just for simply seeking help. He has no reason to trust them nor you. 

Why Are We Shoulding All of the Blame Onto the Abused Child?

Yes, he did do all of those things, technically, but they’re being presented here without context.

The Queen enabled his abuser who was threatening his life and destroyed his home. He kidnapped her as a last restore when all other methods to get out of his desperate situation failed. 

The princess he threatened neglected him for three months and repeatedly refused to help him, even throwing him out into a deadly snow storm. Despite him being her responsibility, thereby making her neglect a flat out abuse of power.  

He would have died a slow and painful death in prison had he not helped to overthrow the kingdom that persecuted him. 

I’m not going to pretend that what Varian did was right or that he shouldn’t feel sorry for what he did, but this is a highly skewed version of events that are being recounted here just to create bias in the viewers. It’s manipulative writing intended to gaslight the audience. 

Also, why does he even want a second chance!?   

Doesn’t This Undermine The Saporian’s Goals?

The Saporians wanted to reclaim their ancestral homeland so that they would no longer be a displaced people. How does blowing up that homeland help them? 

Season three just throws all logic out the window. There’s barely a single villain who doesn’t undermine their own goals at some point with their stupid actions. 

So Why Varian and Andrew Not Some Other Team Up?

Out of all of the various recurring baddies in the show Varian and Andrew have the least in common. I’m not saying that they couldn’t work together, but doing so required more set up than this. Because as is, this is a very contrived teamup. 

They have diametrically opposed goals and moral alignments. Varian doesn’t bring anything to the table that the Saporaions couldn’t have supplied themselves. Meanwhile the Saporians have failed to offer Varian anything that he could want. 

At best it’s a marriage of convenience for them to both break out of prison together, but even that is contrived because we don't know why neither of them were sent away on the prison barge with the rest of the season one villians.  

Better combinations would have been 

Varian & Lady Caine

Andrew & Lady Caine 

Varian & Cass

Andrew & Cass 

Varian & Zhan Tiri

Andrew & Zhan Tiri

Varian & Hector

The Baron & Varian

Andrew & Staylan 

King Trevor & Varian 

Like there were tons of options here that the writers just ignored, even though any of them would have made more sense than the one they went with.  

The Andrew and Varian Dynamic Can Be Seen as an Allegory for Grooming; Unfortunately the Writers Didn’t Consider That Implication.

Yeah... That’s pretty much what Andrew has done here. He’s groomed this desperate and lonely teen to become a child soldier for him. And one only can only pray that’s all he tried to groom him to do since they were trapped inside a confined and enclosed space together for several months. 

Listen, I don’t mind children’s shows touching upon darker subjects. Often fantasy is a good way for people to process complex themes and uncomfortable real world situations through the safety of fiction. It can even be helpful for those who have had the misfortune to experience certain traumas. 

I’m not complaining that TTS is too dark. 

I’m complaining about it being shit. 

All of the crap Varian goes through is just thrown in there for shock value. It’s not here to commentate on the real world nor provide a complex story. The situations are brought only to then be outright ignored. This isn’t thoughtful nor deep. It’s not meaningful nor heartfelt. It’s just hollow drama done in bad taste. 

You’re Not In a Position to Judge Rapunzel 

You got captured first because you decided to throw yourself a pity party. 

Would He Though?

I’m pretty sure Quirin is very well aware of how shitty Frederic is. If anything I would think he’d be pissed that his son, that he tried so hard to protect, was mistreated in such a hordenous way. 

This isn’t some satisfying ending to Varian’s arc. It’s a heartbreaking revelation that he’s been beaten down by his abusers.  

Varian’s Arc Isn’t Actually About Validation, and Rapunzel Giving It Here Doesn’t Really Change Anything 

I spoke about this before on its own, but Tangled the Series places far too much stock in validation. Yes, it’s an aspect of his character arc, but it’s not the end all and be all of his motivation. It’s not the force that drives him to do what he does. 

His primary goal is survival, both for himself and for his father. His secondary goal is gaining his father’s approval, but that’s not because he’s seeking generic praise, it’s because his father is emotionally distant. The “validation” is a mask for the real issues which are to fix his relationship with his dad and avoid the guilt of having possibly killed him in an accident. 

Rapunzel has fuck all to do with that. 

He doesn’t need to hear approval from her. He needs her to get her shit together and help him! 

Rapunzel’s and Varian’s Situations Are Nothing Alike and Rapunzel Doesn’t Know Jackshit

Rapunzel you were dumped by your bestie because you’re a shitty friend. 

Varian was neglected and abused by those who were supposed to take care of him. 

Unless you’re drawing parallels to how Frederic and Gothel treated you, and even then neither of them denied you basic fucking needs! 

This should be an “Oh Shit! I’ve become just like Mother Gothel” moment for Rapunzel, not an “Oh yay! Someone to share in my personal misery” moment. 

Man, Rapunzel suuuuuucks! 

Also This Still Isn’t An Actual Apology

Once again, Rapunzel is not admitting what she did wrong here. She’s not actually acknowledging Varian’s pain, nor what she needs to do to make admins with him. 

What she’s doing is making things all about herself again. She’s talking about her feelings. About what she is facing. Rapunzel is an incredibly selfish and egotistical person and the show is trying to present this as a positive thing by rewarding her for such behavior. 

Varian’s Redemption Should Have Nothing to Do with “Friendship”

Varian has no reason to want to become friends again with the woman who ruined his life and abused him. 

But more than that, redemption shouldn’t be dependent upon Rapunzel’s friendship, nor even her ‘forgiveness”. Varian should be able to do the right thing just because it’s the right thing, Rapunzel be damned. 

This cheepens not only his character development but also Rapunzel’s development as well. Rapunzel is not allowed to grow as a person and accept that not everyone wants to be her friend, and that people may have valid reasons to hate her even, and that doesn’t make them evil. 

It also rushes through Varian’s arc undermining what the audience had to get through to get to this point.  

OK, Let’s Talk About The Goatee

I wouldn’t have minded the beard had it just not looked like a fucking barcode. There’s production art where it looks fine. But just wiping it away ties back to what I was talking about in part one. It’s denying Varian the chance to grow up. This is supposed to be his coming of age story as well but the crew won't let him do that because “rule of funny” apparently overrides what the characters actually need in order to develop.  

Once again, the show isn’t a sitcom. You can have comedic moments but the comedy doesn’t need to outright undermine the drama. 

Once Again, Shouldn’t Eugene Be the First Person to Jump to Varian’s Defence?

You mean the orphan on the streets who stole stuff and fought to survive when the adults failed to take care of him? Is that what you’re talking about Eugene? Cause if I remember correctly that was you not just three years ago. 

You Mean Rapunzel Needs Him To Make Her Feel Better About Herself

Spoiler alert, but Varian doesn’t actually do anything after this point in the episode. His entire “redemption” is just about making Rapunzel feel better about herself after Cass has rejected her. He’s literally become the rebound. 

How Come Varian Suddenly Became Shorter Just for This Shot?

I know the meta reason is to reflect that scene back in Queen for a Day when Rapunzel promised him that she'd help him before everything went tits up. Where he was also drawn shorter in that episode to make him seem more verunable, but here he’s just suddenly shorter for only two shots and then suddenly back to his usual height. 

Crap like this is why I insist that Varian didn’t actually get any taller in season three. The show just has always been inconsistent with his height and most of the “evidence” for his growth are cherry picked instances where the show drew him smaller than usual for reasons, like here.   

So Where Did They Get That Much of the Explosives and How Did They Get Them So Fast?

Only Varian knows how to manufacture that stuff. Why would he make that much of it if he was still in the experimental phase with it? He’s even surprised that they have so much, so where did they get it? If they made it then, how did they make it so fast? 

So This Plan Goes Nowhere

Spoiler alert: Varian doesn’t actually get to do any of that. In fact he’s kind of pointless for the rest of the episode. 

Why Would the King and Queen Care About a City That They Can’t Remember?

Like this revenge doesn’t make sense. It’s just a contrived way to get Eugene and Lance out of the way.

If the Quirineon Explodes From Being Exposed to Heat Then What Good Does Just Dropping It Do?

Yeah, remember? The stuff explodes when heated. Simply dropping it shouldn’t do anything other than make a mess on the ground maybe. 

All That Build Up and Varian Still Doesn’t Get to Do Anything Useful

Up till this point, Varian was shown to be the most competent threat in the show. Yet here they have him be a screw up twice in a row just for comedy antics and to glorify Rapunzel again. 

If you got to nerf other characters just to make your main look good then you’ve failed to establish your main character as being capable in their own right. 

Remember That This Boy Was Trapped in a Jail Cell With This Guy for a Year!

No, I’ll never be over this.

Andrew is the most directly violent and scummy out of all of the villians in the show. 

If he’s willing to do this now, if he was willing to do this to his ex-girlfriend, then what the heck was he willing to do when he and Varian were trapped alone together? 

So Andrew Just Willingly Sacrifices His Own People Here....Even Though His Goal Was to Give His People a New Home....

People need to use this gif more often when concerning this show and the villains’ ass-backwards plans.

And yes they survive because of Varian alchemy. But that was on accident. Andrew had no way of knowing that would happen. He’s willing to destroy his own people just to blow up his ancestral homeland and for what!? What does he gain from this action?  

The Mind Wipe Kills Frederic’s and Arianna’s Characters; Littraly

Frederic and Arianna are effectively dead at this point. Anything that made them, well them, has been wiped away. Their personalities, hopes, dreams, their on going stories and development, just gone. And we never get them back, even when their memories supposedly return. 

Varian’s Not Even Allowed to Get the Idea On How to Save Corona...In His Own Redemption Episode No Less

This is his episode! We’ve spent two years building up to this point and you can’t even let him help? He’s denied the chance to make up for his own mistakes! Just so Rapunzel can play hero and be a very shallow representation of what a bunch of men think a “strong” woman should be! 

It’s fucking insulting. That’s what it is. 

Making a female character the center of the universe to the point where other people are just props for her is not empowering! 

No It’s Not!!

Uh you wouldn’t even be here had you just fucking helped Varian to being with you dumb bitch! This is very much you and your father’s mess! 

Even now, while pretending to be responsible, Rapunzel can’t actually be responsible and own up to what she did! 

She’s fucking 20 and the 16 year old shows more maturity than her! 

Also Your Hair Can Protect Two People at Once Rapunzel; Remember?

There’s no excuse for leaving Varian out of the action. We’ve been shown multiple times now that Rapunzel’s magic hair can protect her and other people at the same time. 

Having Rapunzel Save the Day By Herself Undermines Everything the Episode Was Trying to Establish

What happened to needing to “trust again” and letting other people help you? Having Rapunzel save the day alone just tosses out the lesson that the show was trying to build up to. 

The show tries to frame this as Rapunzel learning “responsibility” but that also does not work. For one it was never established that she needed to learn that within the episode itself and secondly, she doesn’t actually do anything different from what she usually does. 

Being an action hero isn’t the same thing as being responsible. Being responsible is being considerate of others, doing the borning shit or mundane crap that you hate, and being mature enough to recognize your own failings and admitting when you were wrong. 

So in the end Rapunzel is neither responsible nor more open to others. 

And There’s the Death of Eugene’s Character

Lance, who has maybe exchanged all of three sentences with Raps, is more distrught than the guy that supposedly wants to marry her. This isn’t heartwarming, nor it is growth. It’s just lobotomizing a character right in front of our eyes. 

In this very episode he was worried about Raps going to face the Saporians by herself and was, guess what, fucking right to do so. But he doesn’t give two shits if she gets blown up!? 

Ooookaaaay.....

This is the completion of turning Eugene into a doormat. From now own he shan’t be allowed to have any thoughts or feelings of his own that disagrees with Rapunzel. 

The Eugene we knew is now dead. 

But Of Course the Show Rewards Everyone for Behaving In the Dumbest Way Possible Anyways

Don’t expect any of these grossly out of character moments and oxygen deprived logic to be addressed nor fixed within the show. The series will keep on shoving unearned endings into our facing while insisting that this is positive development. 

How Did Y’all Get Here Before Varian?

Yes, he was left on a roof, but he can climb and y’all were outside of the city. 

Yeah... A Year and Half Fucking Later!

Ok, a year and three months, but that’s still not any better. Worse, all this implies is that Rapunzel would not have ever concerned herself with trying to free Quirin had Varian not broken out of prison. She would have literally left them both for dead and we’re supposed to find her suddenly doing the bare fucking minimum heartwarming and inspiring?

Where Was the Inciting Incident to Use the Decay Incantation for This? 

How did Rapunzel come up with this plan? When did she come up with it? 

When the hurt incantation was first found no one mentioned how it could be used to save Quirin. No one even gave Quirin a thought. Since then the incarnation hasn’t been brought back up, ever. This is a pretty big leap in logic for Rapunzel to suddenly think of this. 

All it highlights how Varian was originally meant to be there to translate the scrolls and incantations in order to establish all this but of course it got cut so now it just comes the fuck out of nowhere. 

Not Letting Varian Have Anything to Do With Saving His Father Is Even Worse Than Not Letting Him Save the Day

This has been his motivation since the beginning. It’s been the driving plot for a season, and now that the time has finally come what does get to do? 

Hold a dang bucket. 

Part of coming up with satisfying endings is following through on what you’ve established. The audience needs closure. Simply freeing Quirin isn’t enough, we need the carthartis of Varian specifically fulfilling his goal. 

I don’t know how to break this to you Chris, but this isn’t Rapunzel’s story. Not this segment of it anyways. It’s Varian’s and it just so happens to connect to Rapunzel’s. She shouldn’t have been center stage for this. 

The Series Blows It’s Load Too Early with the Incantations

This is the last time we’ll hear any of the incantations sung on screen, cause someone in budgeting didn’t know what was important to throw the money at and what was not. 

It’s not bad here, but if we could only hear one incantation only once this season it needed to be in the finale with the final heal incantation. 

Varian Was Right All Along

Also, all this does is justify Varian’s actions in season one. Rapunzel was indeed the only one who could free his dad according to this. For a series that desperately wants to shove all of the blame onto an abused child’s shoulders they sure go out their way to prove him right. 

So How Is the Hurt Incantation Suppose to Work?

There were so many fan theories after this scene because Varian and Quirin don’t respond to the hurt incantation the same way previous characters had. 

No one is gasping for breath, Varian can touch Raps without burning his hands, and Rapunzel can control the direction of her power. ect. 

Turns out there was nothing there, the writers just didn’t know what the fuck they were doing and made the hurt incantation very inconsistent just like all of the magic in this show. 

BULLSHIT!!!

You literally turn into a villain because she gave up on you!!!!

She also didn’t give two shits about you throughout the entirety of season two. 

Why are we just pretending like season one didn’t exist!? 

Why!?

The Note!!!

No It Fucking Didn’t!

Does That Look Like “I’m Proud of You Son” To You?

Chris went on to confirm that, yes, the note did hold more information that then got cut. Pretty much confirming all that we suspected. That Varian was cut from season two and his story hastily shoved back into season three at the last minute. 

Below is the link to the tumblr post he made.

https://cnotes.tumblr.com/post/190534585146/apparently-one-of-the-writers-said-a-while-back

What’s worse is that his defense is such bullshit. The below exchange pretty much sums it all up.

This Doesn’t Actually Resolve Anything and Is Therefore Unsatisfying to Watch

Part of the reason why this conclusion doesn’t work is because it doesn’t actually address any of the problems that they have in their relationship. Quirin never owns up to what he did wrong. There’s no discussion of what Varian was up to while he was entrapped, no conversation about what secrets Quirin hid from his son, and zero admission of wrongdoing on either side.   

Also Varian has done nothing significant to earn those particular words. Saying I love makes sense, but in context saying “I’m proud of you” does not. It doesn’t even work on a meta level cause the episode prevented Varioan from accomplishing anything. 

It’s empty. 

There Could Have Been More Screen Time to Fix This If Not for Season Two Mucking About

https://discord.com/channels/427940661589704715/569296212218347522/777635115978457098

Above is the link to the original storyboards. It doesn’t fix everything but there’s a lot more satisfying emotional beats including adding Ruddiger back in who is suspiciously absent for the entire episode for no stated reason. 

This version was cut due to time. Which, like with the Crossing the Line song, didn’t need to be had they been more effective with their usage of time in season two. 

They also could have had a better conclusion to Varian’s arc in general had he not been cut from season two altogether. 

So What Does Freeing Quirin Add to the Series?

I’m serious. What does freeing Quirin at this point and time do for the story?

It doesn’t add any character development, Quirin just wanders around aimlessly in the background until the finale and even then his part in that is a pointless dead end. Varian doesn’t gain his emotional closure, just empty, hollow “praise”. Nor is he allowed to accomplish any of his established goals. No new lore or history is exposed. No mystery uncovered. 

There’s no reason why this couldn’t have been done later in the season. Provide more tension and keep up the consequences of the characters actions. Give the mains something to do and work on until Cass and Zhan Tiri show up again.  

The only reason why this is here is to wrap Varian’s story up as soon as possible so he won’t “steal Cassandra’s spotlight”. That’s it. He’s rewarded for conforming to Rapunzel’s will and all the fans should shut up and be grateful, at least according to Chris.

I Like This Song But It Wasn’t Needed

It doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s just a generic celebration song. Which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that we have a limited number of songs, even less than in previous seasons, and the story isn’t over yet. This is the wrong place to put a victory song at. 

Especially when we could have had a song that furthered Varian’s redemption instead.  Yeah, that was cut too. 

So Is Varian the New “Lance” This Season?

He’s right there! This is his dang focus episode! 

Why hire Broadway singers and not let them sing!? Why waste talent and money like that? 

Also These Lyrics!

Did Glenn Slater just not read the scripts before writing the songs? That’s all season three ever does! Give the mains what they want without earning it. Even in this very episode!

So Is This Rapunzel’s 20th Birthday or Not?

Ok I have gotten into many a heated debate about how long season three is supposed to be. And that’s because what the crew says doesn’t match what the series shows us. 

By all accounts this should be Rapunzel’s birthday. According to season two she’s been gone for one year, and there’s the lanterns that they fly specifically on her birthday. 

But no one verbally says it’s her birthday and I’ve heard conflicting accounts from different members of the crew. Some stating that it is her 20th birthday and some disagreeing that it is. 

Well I’ll take what evidence that the show actually presents to its audience on screen over what the cast and crew says after the fact any day of the week, so I’ll be gathering up this evidence and proving by the end that season three is two years not one. 

But the fact that I must comb through series to prove this, the fact that we can even have this debate, and the fact that the crew have to state basic info after the series is over is just proof of the bad writing. 

Fun Fact: Cupcakes Weren’t Invented Until the 20th Century

Yeah, that’s the fault of the OG film, and yeah it doesn’t really mean much, but still it’s one more thing to add to the pile of stuff that doesn’t fit. 

Plus I’m just a hardcore nerd for historical cooking and I like to share my knowledge.  

Yeah But How Can He Trust All of You Again?

You’re the ones who let him down first; repeatedly. And you only started to make things up to him once he became useful to you. What assurance does he have that you won’t mistreat him again next time he’s in trouble or is no longer of any use to y’all? 

Yes, Let NOT Show What the Main Character Is Actually Going Through

Yup, this is “Rapunzel’s show” but we’re not going to let Rapunzel have any focus on her feelings or give any insight into her thought process about what is the main conflict of the series now.

Conclusion

Ducktales was robbed! 

I can’t believe this shit won an Emmy for “best writing.” It utterly fails on every possible level. It fails to be a continuation of the ongoing story and it fails to be a stand alone episode. Even the very structure of the story is fundamentally flawed. The only reason why it’s not the worst episode of the entire series because the finale and the penultimate episodes exist. 

Anyways...I finally made it through. It literally took my entire weekend but I’m finally caught up. Next week I’ll be going back to the usual one episode a week schedule. 

[emmaswanned]

3 months ago I rewatched ouat and when binge watching, yeah captain swan gets together fast. They met, were something like allies and then enemies again, and they pretty much don’t get more interactions until the very last episode of s2 and just for a handful of minutes (in s2 they were still a “crackship” not for me tho😂) Then neverland’s pinning from hook and Emma obviously didn’t think it was for real, cursed for a year, Emma not wanting to acknowledge that she was into Hook and the last 2 episodes of s3 are literally captain swan heaven ending with them getting together. Back then it felt like ages😂 but we knew they were gonna get together (for me s3 made it obvious) and they might have kissed only once but they had beautiful moments in between that were much more meaningful and the pinning… 😮‍💨👌

But when you think abt it, shows nowadays are not even capable of that because like you say, they only have 8-10 episodes. And like 90% of them release the whole season the same day, so no weekly episodes or season hiatus. Maybe the waiting between seasons is 1-2yrs long but honestly the excitement is not the same, everyone is hyping for like 2weeks and then it quiets till next season comes out. Kids are not even used to watching a show of more of 15 episodes a season, I’ve heard them say “nah, too many episodes” and honestly I’m horrified 😅

So while I love captain swan with my whole heart, they’re not slowburn, if they had extended s3 pinning for more seasons we might have exploded 😂 And since ouat didn’t have a ton of seasons, Im glad they got together when they did because that way we got to enjoy them as a couple for 3 seasons (I still wanted to see them with their baby/toddler for more than 5 secs tho😭)

For example Mulder/Scully are slowburn, specifically since they were supposed to be “just friends”. Jane and Lisbon got together after 6 seasons, Brennan and Boot too, so yeah for 2000’s-2010’s that was slow burn, now it doesn’t exist

Im sorry for the long ask 🥺

No worries about the long ask anon friend!

The thing about OUAT too is it’s much more of an ensemble show than, like, Bones or Castle or X-Files, which gives OUAT less time to spend a ship like Captain Swan so they have to get together quicker than on a show like that if, like you said, they want any time at all to see them interacting as an actual couple. Now, I WISH OUAT was more of an emma swan character study than an ensemble piece but that’s another story LOL.

Anyway, I’m like you in that I shipped captain swan since early s2! That said though I STILL think they could’ve teased out the will-they-won’t-they vibes for, like, another season. They were uncertain allies/sort of enemies throughout s2 then they kiss just a few episodes into s3 and it’s really not long after THAT that they really get together. I just think they could’ve DANCED a little longer because the chase is fun :)

I really miss long tv seasons. 🥺 I miss knowing when OUAT would go into production and following the news throughout the year - I really think that’s the last show of its kind I really watched, everything else is pretty much short streaming seasons. The law and order franchise is still out there I guess… (and incidentally, rollins and Carisi on SVU are a GREAT will-they-won’t-they slow burn).

But yeah I get how the 20-25 episode season is a little too long for today’s audiences just because the face of tv has changed so much unfortunately. I advocate for compromising with 15-16 episode seasons like USA Network and TNT used to do. That leaves a chance to develop relationships over a long period of time while not dragging on too long for the tiktok teens….

[pinkmingi]

V.I.P // C. San ~ (m)

Description: A wealthy, rising young star stumbles into your camming liveshow one evening and immediately becomes your highest paying client. Needless to say- that role comes with certain added benefits, including private shows that San has every intention of using to his advantage.

word count: 5.3k

Features: San x Camgirl!Reader, mutual masturbation, cum play (light), edging, being paid for sexual services (i.e. camming) etc.

2:04am. You squinted against the harsh light of your phone screen as it vibrated in your hand.

New Message From:

Choi San- Tier 6

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat, even if just for a moment, when you saw his name flash across the screen. You weren’t exactly surprised, between his work schedule (from what little he’d told you about his work) and the time difference he tended to send his requests at all hours of the night, long after you’d finished your regular liveshow and gone to sleep—yet you always seemed to wake up when he messaged. If just 3 months ago you’d been told that you would be willfully getting out of bed to put on your prettiest set of pink lingerie and reapplying your livestream makeup for a single customer at 2 in the morning—you would’ve never believed them. Then again, 3 months ago there was no such thing as a Tier 6.

 *3 months earlier*

 “Thank you again to all my beautiful new viewers, I see some of you guys in the chat, don’t be shy say to say hello! I promise there’s no judgement here…” You smiled sweetly, flashing the camera your undeniably charming face that had so many clients coming back to your liveshows on a regular basis—you fulfilled their wildest fantasies and you did it with seemingly no effort.

“I’ve been feeling so restless lately, I don’t know what’s gotten into me—there must be something in the weather here…everything’s making me feel, hmm..needy I guess?” You laughed at the way you spoke so casually in front of an audience of strangers, though many of them were regulars and in that sense seemed less strange to you.

“How’s everyone been feeling lately? Don’t be afraid to open up, I really wanna know.” You smiled as you leaned towards the camera, casually showing off a bit more of your cleavage in the delicate and intricate lace bra that hugged you perfectly. 9.3k viewers, your streams really were growing fast.

 Kinkydaddyxx76 (Tier 2) has sent you a donation!

Erenda_903 (Tier 1) has sent you a donation!

Justcurious111 (Guest) has sent you a donation!

Lovemeharddom_ (Tier 4) has sent you a donation!

You smiled to yourself as you thanked the members by name for their donations, it was about the personal experience for many of them, and as regulars of your streams you’d always found it important that they be recognized and treated with special care—it was one of the reasons that your streams had become so popular so quickly, despite only camming for a little over a year you’d acquired a large and dedicated group of viewers who you always made sure to treat with great care and respect. That was just part of the job.

“I’m gonna be wrapping up the general admission stream soon you guys, but don’t forget if you want extra access to the after party live show you are always welcome—I have 5 tiers of access available for my very special VIP members, the descriptions of each are listed on my profile. I hope to see as many of you there as possible, my members know how much I love an audience.” You winked playfully, adjusting your seat on the perfectly made bed, giving the camera a killer view of your legs and booty shorts as you read through the chat one last time before getting ready to log off. Just as you were getting ready to wrap up, however, a series of notifications appeared in the chat.

ChoiSinForMe has entered your cam room!

ChoiSinForMe has subscribed!

ChoiSinForMe is now a Tier 5 member!

 You eyes widened as you read the last message again—Tier 5. You could probably count on 2 hands the number of Tier 5 subscribers that you had, it was a pretty expensive and elite level—and those who did purchase that level of subscription had been watching you since practically the beginning. You’d never seen this account on your streams before, he was completely new and already he’d become one of your highest paying clients. Taken aback, you nearly forgot to thank the new account for subscribing, your hands fidgeting slightly as you tucked a strand of hair nervously behind your ear. Who was this person?

“Uhmm, whoa…this is unexpected, thank you @ChoiSinForMe for becoming my newest member, welcome to the Princess Playroom, I hope you’ll enjoy your time here!” You smiled sweetly, still feeling a bit giddy and on edge at the prospect of the new member messaging you—that was a perk of Tier 5 members, they had the ability to private message you, as well as make special requests that lower tiers were not permitted to make.

You had just finished thanking everyone for coming, turning off the stream and sitting back against the headboard of your bed as you started at the computer monitor in front of you. You couldn’t get the strange new account out of your head…you couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something so sexy to you about the mystery. After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the private message tab of your account, a notification ding sounded through the otherwise quiet solitude of your apartment bedroom. Jumping slightly, you didn’t hesitate to scroll up, unable to contain the intrigued smile that played against your lips as you saw that, in fact, it was from your new subscriber.

New Chat!

ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I’m sorry if I startled you in the live stream earlier

I’ll admit I liked the way your face froze tho

 You wouldn’t like to admit the amount of times you read that message over again, overwhelmed with the butterflies you felt in your stomach, and the way your cheeks flushed at the idea that you were getting so worked up over a client. Sure, you’d heard of people camming and getting turned on by the people watching them, but you’d honestly never really experienced that with any one subscriber in particular—they were mostly just nice, slightly older men with more money and time than they could handle. So why did this feel different?

 PrincessPlayroom (Host):

It’s nothing I can’t handle, welcome though ~ I’ve never had anyone become a member so quickly after entering my stream before J

 His reply was fast, and it sent you into a state of shock almost as quickly.

 ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

I know what I like. Figured this was the best way to get your attention

I have a proposal, actually—I don’t wanna waste your time, my tastes are specific and I don’t share.

I’m interested in private video calls, noticed that you don’t have that as a feature…but if you’re down to try something like that let me know. The price is…inconsequential.

My name is San, by the way.

 You weren’t exactly sure what to say. He was right, that wasn’t something you’d ever offered before. No one had ever requested it before—that wasn’t to say you didn’t receive strange requests because your chat room was filled with out of the ordinary things. But for such a high-paying client to make a request for an individual stream…you weren’t sure what to say. For some reason, you weren’t ready to immediately shut down the request—maybe it was the prospect that this guy, at least from his messages, sounded like he was genuinely ready to pay anything for what he wanted. Something about that confidence made you squirm.

 PrincessPlayroom (Host):

 That’s certainly a unique offer, you’re right though—that isn’t a Tier 5 perk.

I’m curious though, indulge me in these “specific tastes” of yours, San

 You couldn’t help but bite your lip at what he might say, subconsciously squeezing your legs together slightly as you waited for his reply. When your computer dinged again, the message was shorter than you’d anticipated, and very much left you wanting more.

 ChoiSinForMe (Tier 5):

 I’m not a big texter. Call me on Skype and we can talk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX

And in case you thought I wasn’t serious—

Xoxo, San

 ChoiSinForMe has sent you $1000!

 Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel heat building in the pit of your stomach—should you call him? Who the hell was this guy, who sent you a grand just for entertaining the idea of calling him? Part of you wondered if something like this was really the smartest decision, but the other half of you couldn’t help but follow the intrigue of it all. This had never happened to you before, sure you had a few higher paying clients but none of them were like this. This man was something new. Without giving your mind time to cloud you with reasons why this probably wasn’t a good idea, you’d logged onto your skype account, connected your camera to the computer monitor and turned it on. Sitting upright on your bed, legs outstretched, you fixed your hair slightly before dialing his number. What the fuck were you doing…was this a mistake? Was he gonna end up being a creep or—the sound of the call being answered interrupted your thoughts.

“You look good like this, Princess.” His voice hit your speakers before his camera came into focus, but you swear if you’d been standing his voice alone would’ve been enough to make your knees a little weak. The instant his camera came into focus, your greatest worry came to life—he was ridiculously handsome. Maybe this was why you’d always preferred streaming to a faceless audience, it didn’t feel real. They were just names in the chat, but him? The man in the black t-shirt and grey sweatpants sitting on a king size bed with his head resting in the palm of his hand as he eyed you with a smirk on his lips…he was doing things to you. He was making you nervous, and you never got nervous over things like this. It’s just work, Y/N…it’s just work. He’s a client, that’s it.

“H-hi, I’m sorry, hah...this is all very new for me. I’ve never had a live conversation with a member before.” You blushed, running a hand through your hair as you watched San’s dark eyes, they never wavered from you as he clearly trailed the length of your body—taking his time as he took in the view.

“I guess I must be special then, hmm?” He smiled softly, leaning back on his hands and giving you an all-too perfect view of how tight his sweatpants already were. For some reason, this gave you a surge of confidence. Sure, he may be wealthy, and he may be getting special treatment, but this was your client. He was paying you, he wanted you—you were in charge. You smiled teasingly as you trailed your hand softly down the expanse of your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear as you casually played with the thin elastic band, biting your lip slightly.

“We’ll see…I’m charging you by the hour, by the way.” San laughed slightly at this, nodding in agreement.

“That’s fair…since you’re on the clock, why don’t you tell me your name?” He wasn’t jumping into any far out requests, even though a twisted little part of you wished he would. If he’d asked to see you undone for him right that instant, however, you might be embarrassed by how wet you’d already become.

“You can call me Princ-“

“Your real name, baby.” He interjected, his face unwavering. You never shared your real name with your clients, even your highest tier members.

“You sure do ask for a lot for a Tier 5, don’t you?” You teased, sliding closer to the camera as you watched his face give way to a sinful smile.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be a Tier 5 then…tell me.” He was breaking down your walls quickly, but the thrill of it all outweighed the reservations and rules you’d made for yourself when you first entered the world of camming—things like not letting a client in too close to your personal life, never blurring the line between customer and relationship, never—

“Y/n.” You blurted out suddenly, trying your best not to get flustered at the way San’s eyes twinkled and his pants grew tighter as he repeated your name aloud, humming in approval at the way it fell from his lips.

“Pretty…” He muttered softly, shifting in his seat on the edge of the bed as he watched your gorgeous frame, how your lace lingerie clung to your body just right and the way your hair framed that perfect face of yours—he was especially entranced by your thighs and the way they spread out perfectly against your plush mattress. God he wanted to watch you in every position imaginable.

“I know this must be a bit strange for you…why don’t you ask me a few questions, it might make you feel more comfortable. I’ll do the same, hmm? Let’s say, 3.” San suggested casually, rubbing his finger thoughtfully against his bottom lip as you blushed at the fact that you were supposed to be the professional, yet he was guiding the conversation. Laughing softly, you nodded.

“Hmm, someone seems to know what they’re doing, do you do this with other content creators here?” You were laughing, but a small part of you hoped he’d say no. San smirked, running a hand through his dark black hair as he shook his head.

“Is that your first question?” You blushed slightly, rolling your eyes as you nodded.

“Yes.” He smiled.

“No. I’ve actually never done this before either, I’ve always wanted to…but I never really found a person I was…interested in like this before.” He paused as you tried to hold some semblance of professionalism together, nodding thoughtfully as you felt your stomach knot.

“My turn…why’d you agree to try this?” You didn’t have to think long on your answer before you replied.

“You intrigued me, I think something about you was just…sexy.” You loved the visibly turned on reaction that San tried to suppress as the last word left your lips, his hand coming to lay across the inseam of his sweatpants in a half-hearted attempt to disguise what was becoming an increasingly noticeable erection. Clearing his throat, he chuckled softly. You knew what you were doing to him and it was driving him wild far more easily than he’d anticipated.

“How old are you?” You asked back, playing absentmindedly with a fluffy throw pillow on your bed, laying down in a more comfortable and relaxed position now as you felt the chemistry begin to unfold between the two of you.

“I’m 21. Younger than you’re used to?” You laughed softly, nodding. How was he so wealthy and still so young?

“So are you a self-made kinda rich boy, or the old family money kind?” A cheeky grin spread across San’s face as you asked your final question.

“I’m fortunate to have a good job, the details aren’t important but…it’s given me a comfortable life. I try to keep my work and private life separate, I’m sure you’re plenty familiar with confidentiality though…” You nodded thoughtfully as you eyed his broad shoulders and veiny arms, even through a computer screen his incredible shape was apparent.

“Last question, y/n…” He murmured softly, causing shivers to run down your spine at cadence of his honey voice.

“Mmm…” You replied, squeezing your thighs tightly together in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the built up tension this almost stranger was causing you feel. What he said next, however, would send you completely over the edge.

“Are you wet for me right now?” Your body froze as you attempted to collect your flustered self, hating the way he was clearly eating it up as his hand slowly palmed at his fully hard cock through the fabric of his pants, not even trying to hide the large bulge that was begging to be released.

“Y-yes.” You muttered softly, entranced by the way he took control of the situation. He hummed lowly in approval, sliding his hand underneath the waistband of his sweatpants as you watched the outline of his fingers stroke himself. He was ridiculously hot, but you figured he already knew that. You blushed, doing your best to bite back the sinful smile that threatened to flicker across your face as you felt your aching needs growing stronger by the minute. This man was really something if his presence alone was enough to make you falter—but you couldn’t forget, this was your show. Pulling your hair back away from your face and sliding yourself closer to the camera, you flashed him a knowing look as you tilted your head slightly. Your confidence was back.

“Did I say you could stroke yourself already?” Your soft voice echoed out against the speakers of his laptop like honey, and there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in his mind that if you’d been in the room with him this would’ve been the moment where he’d pin you against the wall and dare you to disobey him. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his gaze low and his hair hanging over his eyes as he slowed the pace of his hand.

“Mmm, it’s cute you think you’re in charge, (Y/N)…Truly.” He wasn’t going to cave easily, you didn’t expect him to. Truthfully, you didn’t want him to. Something about the chase, the push and pull—the rising tensions of the seemingly endless back and forth, it fueled you.

Not backing down so easily, you retorted,

“You can’t even help yourself around me for five minutes—I think that’s proof enough.” San smirked, biting his lip shamelessly as he pushed his hair away from his face. Making eye contact with you through the screen, he watched in enjoyment as your cheeks flushed slightly while his hand tightened around the sizeable bulge in his pants, quickening his movements slightly and raising an eyebrow as though challenging your previous statement.

“I’m paying you to say pretty things and watch me jack off, princess—that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you have your way with everything…” You could feel your core heating up when he called you princess, it’d always been a favorite pet name of yours. Fiddling with the hem of your panties, you slid a finger just below the waistband as you teased him with the image of what you’ll look like without them. It wasn’t hard to tell his eyes were glued to your body, his eyes dark and filled with lust as you continued to tease him with your words.

“Mmm…my show, my rules. I’m not just gonna sit here and obey your every order, yknow. I’m not that kind of girl, Mr. Choi.” His jaw went slack when you addressed him that way, his mouth hanging just slightly agape as he threw his head back, the prominent veins in his arms showing as he balanced his weight on his free arm that propped him up—his right hand pre-occupied as he continued to quicken the pace of his strokes. You could see the swelling in his sweatpants and you could feel your panties becoming soaked at the mere idea of him finally releasing the beast he was fighting to hold back. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower and more gravelly than it had been before, he was becoming more and more depraved the longer you teased him without touching yourself—without showing him everything he was hungering to see.

“A good girl?” You smirked, you had him exactly where you wanted him. You had to admit though, he may have had you right where he wanted you as well.

“I’m nothing of the sort.” His long strokes slowed slightly as he began to pace himself, not ready to tip himself over the edge without watching you cum all over your fingers. He could tell you were wet for him and, though he couldn’t be sure, he had confidence that that alone made him stand out amidst your other clients. He’d only just met you, but it only took one look in those sinfully pure eyes to know that he desperately wanted—no, needed—to make you cum.

“And what kind of girl are you then, hmm?” The heat and pressure rising in your core was too much to bare at this point, and you’d decided that the poor man had earned what he was so obviously craving—you. Without another thought, you unclasped the back of your bra, letting it fall to the side as your breasts were now fully exposed for him. A low groan sounded from your speakers and you could tell he was more than enjoying the view. Not finished with him just yet, you slipped your fingers under the hemline of your panties, sliding them down until the lace crumpled around your ankles and you were left completely bare on your bedspread. Spreading yourself out for him to see, you leaned back and slowly slid your hand down to relieve the pressure building up inside you. A low “fuck” hissed out between San’s gritted teeth as he edged his stroking along, the slow pace becoming almost excruciating.

“What kind of girl do you want me to be?” You teased, nearly breathless already as a single finger slid between your soaked folds, easing its way inside you with a few pumps as a small moan escaped your lips. San groaned as his grip tightened around his length at the sound of your pretty moans ringing in his ear, licking his lips as he finally couldn’t take the restrictive fabric any longer. Without hesitation, San yanked his sweatpants down until they were around his ankles where he effortlessly discarded them, his throbbing length proudly on display as a small gasp left your mouth. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to men jacking off to you—but you’d never seen it live like this, and something about it was ridiculously sexy. The fact that this particular client was Choi San didn’t hurt, though.

“I want you to be the kind of girl who rides her own pretty, little fingers until she cums to the sound of my voice. I want you to moan my name…my first name, like you’d give anything to be here riding my dick right now. Because I know you would.” This time it was you who was slightly at a loss for words, biting down hard against the insides of your cheeks as you sucked in a deep breath, nodding as you opened your legs to give him an even better view of your sinful touches. He was right, eyeing the long and girthy member pulsating in his hand you couldn’t help but wish that you had something more to get off to instead of just your fingers.

“Can you do that for me, baby…hmm?” He re-focused his strokes to just the tip of his cock, massaging the head with an unrelenting pace as he dragged the pad of his thumb over the tip, swiveling his wrist ever so slightly as he continued the shallowed pumps. You nodded.

“Mmmm, yes, San. Only if you cum for me just as hard…” His eyelids lowered slightly as his gaze became lazy, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded, speeding up his strokes as he watched you slide another finger inside of your glistening hole, moaning at the added pressure as your thumb drew circles against your clit, pressing down with gradually increasing pressure to help you relieve the pressure you’d lost from opening your legs.

“Oh I plan on it, princess—now turn around for me. I wanna see that ass nice n’ high while you touch yourself.” You turned around easily, pressing your chest against the mattress and arching your back as your ass perked up, sliding your hand up between your thighs and griding your clit down against the palm of your hand as a couple fingers slid back inside your heat. San’s low groans grew louder and more breathless as his strokes became longer and more staggered, enjoying the view of you bent over for him and fantasizing about the way you’d feel if he ever had the opportunity to bend you over and rail you himself.

“Fuuck, just like that—mmmm, you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?” You moaned at the way his once soft, now raspy voice teased you. Propping yourself up with your free arm you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, smirking.

“A good girl would beg you to stroke yourself slowly…so slow that you’re almost in pain, begging me to let you go faster and finish yourself off.” San smirked, not always liking the idea of submitting in the bedroom but willing to entertain this small idea for you.

“Does that mean you’re a good girl then? I mean, you are begging me…” You turned yourself back around, sitting in your knees with your legs spread as you leaned forward onto your hands as he watched the rise and fall of your breasts keep pace with your heavy breaths.

“I’m not begging you, I’m telling you.” This time, San listened, allowing you to have your way this once as he slowed his long pumps to a painfully slow pace, already feeling his load building and swelling in his balls as he adjusted himself on the bed, his breathing becoming even more ragged than before. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you took in the sight of his slightly sweaty body and the way his hair clung to the sides of his face from the building beads of sweat. He was completely strung out at this point, his gaze filled with pure lust and his lips barely capable of forming sentences as he threw his head back once again, echoing incoherent slurs of curse words and moans. The action alone was enough to send you over the edge, but you held yourself together as you pumped your fingers even faster inside yourself, your needy moans growing in volume.

“Fuck you look so pretty like that, Y/N….tell me how good it feels…” Screwing your eyes shut as you hit that perfect sensitive spot, a breathless moan escaped your lips as you nodded.

“S-so good…Aahhh, fuck you’d feel so much better, though…” A wide smile spread across San’s face as his eyes remained closed, nodding as he hummed in approval. His cock was throbbing even harder than before, hungry for release as he continued to obey you.

“Mmmm, I must be something special if you’re considering riding the dick of a stranger you just met…” His voice vibrating through the speakers made you wish his mouth was around your clit, sucking down hard as he groaned into your tight and aching pussy. You knew it was wrong, and that this kind of attraction to a client was completely foreign to you—but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Mmmff fuck, shut up and cum already.” You breathed out, whining against the sensations of your fingers as San chuckled lowly, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally began to quicken his strokes, feeling the pressures build as he neared his release. You were riding your fingers at this point, your breasts bouncing up and down as you picked up the pace, needy for your own climax as you watched the man you knew hardly anything about turn you on more than anything real you’d encountered in a very long time.

“Shit, Y/N…your body is fucking insane…” San breathed out, his strokes ruthless and sloppy as his hips bucked up to meet his hand, unable to express in words how badly he wished it was you on top of him instead. You moaned, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Aahhh god I’m close.” You whined, curling your fingers up to stroke your pressure points as you arched your back and threw your head back from pleasure. This was all it would take for San to be tipped over the edge, his breathing hitched in his throat as he continued to speed up his needy strokes.

“Cum for me, princess—all over those pretty little fingers. I wanna watch you lick them clean…” With that, you managed a dazed nod before grinding your hips down against your hand one last time, the pressure becoming too much as you finally tipped over the edge and your orgasm ran through your entire body. Your pretty moans were enough to send him hurdling towards his own orgasm as you rode out your high. Breathing slow, you eased your fingers out and made eye contact with the man who’d made you cum with nothing but his voice as he groaned, stroking himself hard. He was ridiculously close, but the moment you bit your lip and slid your soaking wet fingers inside your lips, swirling your tongue around them and licking them clean just as he’d told you to—he couldn’t take it anymore. Thick, creamy white ropes erupted from his cock, covering his thighs and the bedsheet beneath him as he groaned, inhaling sharply and tilting his head back in ecstasy as you moaned yourself at the ridiculously sexy view. Several spurts dripped down his hand as he slowed his strokes, massaging the glistening head of his cock slowly as his eyes shut and he rode out one of the most intense orgasm’s he’d ever felt. Breathing heavily, the two of you were sat in euphoric silence for a moment as you took in the pleasure that was still coursing through your bodies.

‘Fuck…”He muttered out after a moment. You blushed slightly, smiling at the reassurance that he’d enjoyed himself.

“For someone who’s never done that before…you sure knew what you were doing.” He laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed a towel from nearby, cleaning himself off lazily as you did the same, smiling.

“Well it is my job…it was definitely something new though.” You teased, winking playfully as San smiled in return.

“So let’s make it a regular thing then.” He blurted decidedly. You gave him a questioning look. Sure a small part of you hoped that you’d get the opportunity to do something like this or more again, but you hadn’t held out hope. You’d assumed he was more of a “one time” client.

“For real?” He smiled, nodding as he slid his sweatpants back on, watching as you sat comfortably bare in front of him, adoring the way you allowed him to watch you.

“Yeah, of course. You had fun, I had fun—well, I had a lot of fun…no one’s made me cum like that in a while.” A small blush threatened to tinge your cheeks, though you crossed your fingers it wasn’t noticeable through the screen as he marveled in the idea that someone as sexy as him was turned on by you. Not sexy enough to get it for free though (at least not yet).

“And the price is…” You teased, taunting him. He smirked, shaking his head as he sat upright, his elbows on his knees.

“Like I said, baby—inconsequential. Get some rest, think it over, ok? Message me when you’re ready to say yes.” His confidence was insatiable, and you’d grown a taste for it. Biting your lip, you nodded slowly.

“And what if I decide a Tier 5 member doesn’t deserve all this special treatment, hmm?” He scoffed lowly as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer to the camera despite his voice being barely above a whisper.

“Then make a higher tier. Get some sleep now, ok princess?”

~admin liese

☆Requests Open!☆

[hilariouslyedgy]

tgfmtif headcanons

hi, if you read my fanfic this godforsaken mess, this idiotic fool then this post may be for you. (if u haven’t read the fic maybe check it out before reading this list.) on ao3, I asked if anyone wanted a list of hc’s I have for this fic and a few of y’all said YES so. here it is. enjoy. I may go back and add things I think of later on.

-yakko is a leo (aug 10), wakko is a sagittarius (nov 30), and dot is a pisces-aries cusp (march 20)(if you ask her she’ll say she’s an aries)

-(this ones more for me) but if I were to describe the warners in this fic as tarot cards it would be this

-yakko: the hanged man

-wakko: six of swords

-dot: queen of swords

-(look em up)anyways

-yakko started working at that starbucks in that target at the age of 16

-he really enjoyed it there. the chaos reminded him vaguely of the movie lot and keeping his mind busy was nice

-the transition from “I do what I fucking want” to “yes ma’am right away” was difficult, it got him written up a couple times

-he was so good at his job that his boss couldn’t fire him

-now that he transferred into the store it’s less chaotic but he can have more time with a customer

-he actually likes helping elderly customers, they have so many questions and he has a lot of answers (and patience)

-he gets along pretty well with Shawn and playfully flirts with him. shawn is straight but he still jokes about running away with yakko

-shawn and annalise are very happy together, despite their vast differences. it’s actually annalise’s first healthy relationship

-yakko called annalise “Lisa” the first time he met her but then switched to “Annie bannanie” after seeing the face she made at the nickname

-“I got ᵘᵘᵘᵘʰʰʰʰʰ a venti mango dragonfruit with lemonade for ANNIE BANNANIE”

-annalise doesn’t really like teenagers but her education in psychology is changing that. yakko changed that too. she took it upon herself to keep tabs on him when he first started working at target. now they’re good friends.

-its still 2 years away but she’s planning things for yakkos 21st birthday

-when the 2 younger sibs started school they texted each other during class to make sure they were okay

-wakko immediately wanted to join orchestra, playing violin, naturally

-he met charlie in this class, she plays the flute. wakko noticed her after she let out a well timed belch after a piece

-wakko met astro in algebra 2. they both have an interest in a particular band and bonded over that

-charlie and astro share classes together and that’s how they know each other

-despite his grades, wakko adapted really well to going to school. as stated in the main fic, school becomes his escape from home when things are hard

-dot, on the other hand, is not such a big fan. classes are boring and her teachers are mean.

-however dance class is fun, and she got to participate in the homecoming parade, and that’s where she met chessie, who also took dance

-dot also adores her dance teacher, miss mercer (it’s my other oc, aria uwu)(idk if y’all will ever meet her tho)

-miss mercer can pass off as a student she looks so young and shes short af, but shes really cool and youthful and you can tell she loves her job, and that’s why dot loves her

-dot makes sure to stand in the very front of the class when they’re doing warm ups and learning new routines for the winter recital

-the winter recital was really exciting, dot got to stand in the front for her class’s dance and she heard her brothers cheering for her from the audience

-miss Mercer told dot that she has potential to join the dance team, and you bet your patootie she’s gonna audition at the end of the year

✨and now some hc’s for my oc’s, annalise and bella✨

-they each have their own respective fics,,,,,i created them for other fandoms 😅 bellas origin story is here, and annalises is here 🙂

-you don’t have to read them but both fics exist in the same universe, and it’s different from the one in this fic!

-anyways (pt2)

-annalise doesn’t really talk to her parents. she’ll see them on their birthdays and holidays but overall,,,,meh

-Bella hadn’t spoken to any of her relatives in years,,,,it’s a sensitive topic

-while bella isn’t an alt girl, she does follow the colorful hair/bold makeup/gamer boyfriend trope ☺️ (and if you peeped at her origin story [third installment] you know Who that bf is)

-annalise is a goth but her bf is “normal” bc that’s the relationship dynamic she saw growing up. so it stuck with her.

-she is the one who introduced dot to little mix, but Bella introduced annalise to them 🤣 you think a goth is gonna find a pop group on her own??

-oh and ann n bella are bisexual 🥰 and yakko is too 💖💜💙

-anyways ann and yakko try to get their lunch breaks at the same time to hang out

-Annalise has picked up the little ones from school a couple times

✨and now thing that were originally supposed to happen but didn’t✨

-in chapter 6 when it’s mentioned that dot spent the night with annalise while wakko was in the hospital?? yeah there was supposed to be a deep, profound, but nice conversation between them but a bitch fuckin forgot the dialogue 🙃

-I was originally going to have Ann’s n Bella’s roles swapped in this fic. Bella was going to be the Human Best Friend to yakko. she’s quiet and he’s loud and it would have been quite the dynamic

-I don’t know what happened tbh. I think Annie bannanie popped into my head first.

-this fic was supposed to take place around october or november but I knew I wanted dot’s birthday in there somewhere AND i wanted her star sign to be aries so it just ended up being late march

-and bc of that she’s accidentally a year older than I planned. so she is one year apart from wakko and 4 years from yakko. oopsie whoopsie

-and finally, the one I’m most 😤 abt bc I’m a dumbass who FORGOT TO WRITE IT IN

-in chapter 12 when yakko comes home he was meant to dig thru the cabinet n eat goldfish crackers (iykyk)

[historyofshipping]

My massive Bellarke is epic and here’s proof from s5-7 rant.

Ok guys I cannot stress enough that I am drunk, this is long, it has strong language, and it’s a trip. I am putting it almost all under a cut because it is 20 f*ing pages on word.

For reference: this was on a discord chat and I am removing all names and a few other things but there will be absolutely no editing. Anything in straight text is me, anything in italics is someone else (there’s several different someone elses so people are separated by line breaks). On my page I think it appears as everything grey is someone else, everything black is me. I’m going to put the beginning on here and rest under the cut. If you’re still going through with this, I suggest some popcorn.

Guys... I'm trying to stay optimistic but I'm really worried that jroth is gonna make bellarke canon in a really disappointing way. Like for me infidelity is a huge no in ships and I hate that becho has gone on so long that there doesn't seem to be a lot of room left in the canon timeline for a becho breakup/end that doesn't ruin the start of Bellarke for me

WAIT I GOT YOU I CAN CALM YOU I THINK BUT FIRST I NEED TO EAT MY BREADSTICKS

Every moment Echo is on the screen I want to claw my eyes out because she's so boring please jroth let it fucking end, but the feminist in me doesn't want her to die or be disrespected just because she's a callous asshole who doesn't deserve him yknow

Eat your breadsticks babe I've been living with my dread for 2 seasons I can hang on a little longer I just wish the entire becho relationship had never happened it's a blight and it's gone on so long adenfkidsngksdgnksdgn

Kate will say it better than I will, but don't lose hope! Becho hasn't really been together on screen for very long. It's only been like a few weeks to a month since the beginning of S5. They've stretched it out over two seasons, but in canon not much time has passed. And most of that time had Bellamy either sacrificing almost 300 lives to save Clarke, poisoning his sister to save Clarke, or fucking off into the wilderness with Josephine to save Clarke. They've just straight up not had enough time for Bellamy to be like, "Hey Echo, I know I said things wouldn't change but that was before my wife was actually alive, so bye." Though  to wishing Becho had just never happened. We got one good angst scene with Clarke seeing them kiss. But otherwise, I could have very much done without their whole relationship.

they gave me 2 dozen breadsticks. i ordered 6

You've been blessed by the breadstick goddess.

oh sorry i was misinformed. i only have 22. apparently one bag only had 4 OK SO BELLARKE BITCHES AM I GOING TO ANNOYINGLY DO THIS IN CAPS SO BUCKLE TF UP

I mean, I love the idea that they only got together in the sixth year on the ring when Bellamy totally lost hope but is that canon? I thought we had a 3 year range

ALL RIGHT

We ignore canon in this channel. lol They've been together for 3 months.

SO LET'S START AT THE BEGINNING OF BECHO ok caps off. i even annoyed myself

I'm so here for this.

https://tenor.com/view/murder-she-wrote-angela-lansbury-jessica-eats-popcorn-interested-gif-4594942

Damn, I was ready for caps.

OK WE'RE BACK TO CAPS

https://giphy.com/gifs/popcorn-go-on-keep-going-Zd1BUb0qs6nwjeMUBu

OK SO WE HAVE BECHO'S FIRST SCENE TOGETHER ANYONE REMEMBER WHAT BELLAMY SAID? ANYONE? THIS REQUIRES AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION

"Hey work with me so I can break everyone out of this mountain"? or something?

OH DAMN I MEANT WHEN THEY WERE CANONICALLY TOGETHER XP

"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written

LMFAO OJN THE RING WHAT'S THE FIRST THING WE HEAR FROM THEM? THE FIRST IMPORTANT THING? ANYONE?

Unfortunately that scene was physically repulsive for me so I don't remember much except for "nothing will change on the ground and my sister totally didn't mean to murder you"

AHA! THERE YA GO NOTHING WILL CHANGE ON TEH GROUND BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EXPECTING ON THE GROUND? NOTHING TO CHANGE BECAUSE THE ONLY THING THAT COULD CHANGE IS -----

>"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written I SPIT OUT MY DRINK I CANNOT

ANYONE? YUP

I'm behind. lol

CLARKE

AND THEN WE GOT TO THE GROUND, WHAT HAPPENED?

BEING ALIVE

His sister having more taste in his romantic partners than him?

WHAT WAS THE LITERAL ONE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN THAT WOULD CHANGE BELLAMY'S MIND DING DING DING CLARKE IS ALIVE

10 points to 

AND WHAT DOES OUR BABY BOY DO?

SACRIFICE 300 PEEPS FOR HIS WIFE

Clarke with a gun AND a kid AND a rover AND bedtime storytelling practice like what more could he want that's all the things he loves

A LITTLE AHEAD BUT BANG

BABY BOY FOLLOWS CLARKS DAUGHTER FIRST, LEAVING ECHO IN THE LITERAL DUST (that's what he does before sacrificing lives)

WE WENT FROM "I WILL NOT TOUCH THESE PEOPLE BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO DO BETTER." TO "I WILL SLAUGHTER 283 PEOPLE WITHOUT RAISING AN EYEBROW" BECAUSE RANDOM CHILD SHOWS UP AND SAYS "CLARKE'S IN TROUBLE" RANDOM CHILD WHO HAS JUST KILLED A BUNCH OF HARDENED CRIMINALS

He had the dad mug tho, he had to help her

HE SAW HIMSELF IN HER HE KNEW

OK

HIS SOUL KNEW

SO WE'RE THERE NOW BUT THEN BANG, WE'RE ON THE GROUND AND OH FUCK I FORGOT I HAD A GIRLFRIEND BUT BELLAMY IS LOYAL SO HE SURE AF ISN'T DOING ANYTHING UNTIL HE'S DONE WITH ECHO BUT

He's had 2 seasons!!!!!

CLARKE BASICALLY ACTS LIKE SHE DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THE SEPARATION THOU SHALT NOT POKE HOLES IN MY SHIT UNTIL I AM DONE

>He's had 2 seasons!!!!! But only like a few weeks in time.

BECAUSE THESE TWO FUCK HEADS CANNOT HAVE A CONVERSATION

Forgive me!

SO WE HAVE A GRAND TOTAL OF FEWER THAN 3 WEEKS THAT THEY'RE ON THE GROUND AND THEN IN THAT TIME WE HAD.... one sec pPLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO REVIEW THE TIMELINE https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/620425806742749184/season-5-7x03-so-far-timeline FOR SEASON 5 ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM TOGETHER FOR LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE BELLAMY'S LIKE (FROM CLARKE'S PERSPECTIVE) "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR KID, I HAVE TO SAVE MY FAMILY" SO THEN WE HAVE THEM SPEND THE NEXT 10 DAYS APART BECAUSE SHE LEFT HIM AFTER SLAPPING HIM AND SHE THOUGHT HE DIED BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING MORONS WHO CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION (YOU WILL NOTICE A RECURRING THEME) AND THEN, ECHO HAS LEARNED THAT NOT ONLY HAS CLARKE CARED ABOUT BELLAMY ALL THIS TIME BUT THAT SHE'S ONCE AGAIN READY TO PUT THE FATE OF HUAMNITIY ON THE LINE TO SAVE HIM "GO SAVE HIM. EVEN TAKE MURDER!DAUGHTER WITH YOU" BUT BELLAMY STILL DOESN'T KNOW THIS SO ANYWAY WE HAVE ANGST!BELLAMY GET PARENT TRAPPED BY MURDER!DAUGHTER are y'all still with me? AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED IMMEDIATELY AFTER MURDER!DAUGHTER'S INTERVENTION?

BELLARKE FORGIVENESS ™

YAS NOT ONLY THAT BUT SOFT!BELLARKE RETURNS WITH A VENGEANCE [side note: you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands but there was 100% a canon bellarke scene between forgiveness and 125 year wake up just in case they ended at season 5.]

[I need them to publish that scene when this is all over]

ALL RIGHT SO FUCKING MARPER - WHO SPENT A TOTAL OF LIKE 4 MONTHS WITH CLARKE BUT 6 YEARS WITH THEIR FAMILY- DECIDED TO WAKE UP BELLARKE TO TALK TO AND GIVE GUARDIANSHIP TO AND WHY DID THEY DO THAT?

THEY BEEN KNEW

I'LL ACCEPT IT

OK SO WE GET THIS PROMISING FUTURE TOGETHER ON THIS NEW PLANET RIGHT?

WRONG MURDER POLLEN

OK BUT TECHNICALLY BECHO IS STILL TOGETHER. NO PROBLEM - WE NEED TO FIGURE OUR SHIT OUT AND THEN WE'LL HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO HAVE PEACE AND GET TOGETHER OK SO I'M JUST GOING TO START SAYING "CHORUS" WHEN I MEAN "BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER" IS CHORUS THE RIGHT WORD? OR IS IT REFRAIN? WHATEVER ONE REPEATS - THAT ONE ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM GOING INTO THE VILLAGE AND EVERY TIME THERE IS DANGER, BELLAMY GOES IMMEDIATELY TO CLARKE WHEN IT'S PEACEFUL, OPE IT'S BACK TO ECHO

(like the husband he is)

I HAVE A WHOLE META ABOUT THAT IF YOU WANT IT BUT SO THEN THE FIRST TIME - LITERALLY THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE MARPER VIDEO - THAT THEY'RE ALONE, IT'S BECAUSE BELLAMY HAS SOUGHT HER OUT AND WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT? Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION BUT SOMEONE IS WELCOME TO SCREEN SHOT THIS SO THAT THE NEXT TIEM WE HAVE DOUBTS, I DON'T HAVE TO TYPE IT ALL OUT SO WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT?

>Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION @kate (historyofbellarke) "Give a position show me where the ammunition is" from My Shot just popped into my head lololol

WHY DID BELLAMY LEAVE HIS CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND TO GO SEEK OUT CLARKE?

BECAUSE HE LOVES HER AND ALSO BECAUSE THERE WAS DANGER

OK BUT WHY SPECIFICALLY NOOO WHEN CLARKE WAS IN THE SCHOOL

AND THE LAST TIME SHE WASN'T IN HIS SIGHT SHE ALMOST DIED

OK THAT TOO

Okay I'm lost at this point then.

LOL

Phone a friend.

Bc she sucks and Clarke's the best?

I'LL LET ---- CHIME IN LMFAO I LOVE YOU GUYS KNOW IT'S TO TELL HER THAT HE KNOWS ABOUT THE CALLS

OH THAT SCENE

HE KNOWS THAT SHE CALLED HIM EVERY DAY FOR 2,199 DAYS HE SOUGHT HER OUT, BY HERSELF, TO TELL HER THIS

YES YES

BUT BECAUSE CHORUS

WE'RE BACK THESE FUCK HEADS CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION

SHE GOT NERVOUS AND DUCKED OUT BECAUSE IT'S BEEN LESS THAN 3 WEEKS SINCE HE CAME BACK AND SHE'S OVERWHELMED BECAUSE HOLY FUCK WHAT A 3 WEEK PERIOD THAT WAS (REFER BACK TO TIMELINE AS NEEDED) ALL RIGHTY SO THEN AFTER THAT THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THE RED SUN WHICH BY THE WAY IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS BECAUSE HE CALLS OVER ECHO JUST TO PROMPTLY IGNORE HER COMPLETELY [AND BECAUSE IT'S ME, I HAVE A GIFSET FOR THAT] SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED

NO WE'RE HERE FOR THE GIFSET

I'M LOOKING OK IT'S PART OF THIS SO YOU GET A 2 FOR 1 https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184827185143/bellarke-danger-vs-becho-safety OK NOW I FORGOT WERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH IGNORING ECHO ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE EVERYTHING GO TO SHIT AND OF COURSE, BELLARKE LOCK THEMSELVES TOGETHER AND WE HAVE THE ANGST THE ANGST BUT THEY HAVE EACH OTHER'S KEYS

WHICH IS A MARRIED MOVE IF I EVER HEARD ONE

BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE KEY TO MY HEART, WHEREVER YOU ARE, I'LL KEEP YOU

That's a very comprehensive gifset

IF YOU DON'T KNOW THAT SONG THEN I FEEL OLD SO YOU HAVE THEM UNLOCKING EACH OTHER BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY ARE

I might drift in and out of conversation, partner wants attention but I wanna finish reading this asdfgh

AND HE'S LIKE "NAH ECHO, WIFEY AND I GOT THIS. WE GOTTA TAKE CARE OF OUR KIDS." TELL THEM TO WAIT THEIR TURN SO THEY'RE GOING LITERALLY PSYCHOTIC BUT THAT'S COOL. I TRUST THE OTHER ONE ENOUGH TO NOT KILL ME BUT OH WAIT - WHAT IS BELLAMY'S PSYCHOSIS ?

Not needing Clarke anymore...?

YUP WHICH MEAN S

He needed her and knew it at some point

YUP ALSO I FOUND THAT GIFSET THAT I IDD TO THAT SONG https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184725894498/this-song-popped-into-my-head-and-i-had-to OK SO SKIPPING AHEAD, HIS BIGGEST SECRET IS THAT HE DOES STILL NEED HER OK EVEN I'M STARTED TO GET BORED SO I'LL GIVE BULLET POINTS FROM HERE ON OUT SO WE HAVE HIM NEEDING HER HIM CALLING HER THE LEADER EVEN THOUGH SHE HASN'T BEEN FOR LIKE 6 YEARS AND WE HAVE HIM PINING OVER HER AT THE DANCE FLOOR AND PICKING A FIGHT WITH ECHO OH YEAH AND WE SEE ALL THE  BECHO CRACKS HERE

This has been a v good rundown, I won't lie.

LOL

ONWARD  I'M BACK ON TRACK

WE HAVE JUXTAPOSED: ECHO NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY WITH REGARDS TO OBUT CLARKE KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY EVEN AFTER 6 YEARS

BECAUSE WIFEY

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618426948212965376/historyofbellarke-4-times-someone-knew-the-right

Really you'd think the spy would know what someone wants to hear smh

NAH BECAUSE SHE HAS NO EMOTIONAL EMPATHY. WE'LL GET TO THAT EVENTUALLY

She's also kinda a shit spy. Like when has she ever done actual spying.

Y'ALL I HAVE A GIF FOR EVERYTHING. I'M THE LIZ WARREN OF BELLARKE GIFS GIFSETS AT LEAST

You don't need empathy to fake it, Madison's right she's just such a bad spy :joy:

I'VE GOT NOTHING ON ---- FOR JUST GIFS LOLi

I say this as someone who was 10/10 a spy in a past life at least according to my recurring dreams about it1

OK SO THEN WE ALSO HAVE BELLAMY SIDING WITH CLARKE AT EVERY TURN, OVER ECHO'S EXPLICIT OBJECTIONS AND WE HAVE HER NOTICINGGGGGG WE'RE HERE FOR THIS CONTENT

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/185265380768/6x04-bec-scene-follow-up-with-6x05 JUST ONE EXAMPLE

HATE TO SEE IT 

SO WE HAVE BELLAMY CLEARLY SHOWING THAT HE'S HER LEADER - WHETHER HE MEANS TO BE OR NOT - WHICH COMES IN IN 7X01

Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out

OH SHIT ONE SECOND I HAVE TO DO DUOLINGO SO I DON'T LOSE MY STREAK BRB

>Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out ---- I love this, actually. WE SHALL HOLD YOUR SPOT

No one in this goddamn canon knows how to have an actual breakup conversation they only know how to die

CORRECT CHORUS

BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER

Ironically Raven and Finn are the only ones who have had a half-normal breakup.

Will be back, partner is dramatically exclaiming that I don't love him anymore bc I won't go give him a goddamn hug bc the meta's too good

BOOM OK I'M BACK

SIDE NOTE BEFORE WE'RE BACK

GO ON

What language are you learning on Duolingo?

relearning spanish and then german german for work, spanish because i used to be fluent and i'm so bad now xp

This entire convo is a chaotic mess

We are a chaotic mess.

WELCOME TO THE HELLMOUTH, ----

Our ship is a chaotic mess.

It all tracks, honestly.

WE WOULD'VE ALL BEEN SO MUCH BETTER OFF IF JASPER HAD DESTROYED THE CHIP OOK SO MOVING ON NOW I FORGOT WHERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH LEADER PERF SO OH YEAH I FORGOT TO ADD - 6 & 7 ARE ONE SINGULAR SEASON SO

This convo should totally be convered into a Masterclass session at the end. YES

WE'VE GOT A RUNNING THREAD OF ECHO BEING A FOLLOWER OF BELLAMY AND HER KNOWING IT

6/7 ARE ONE SEASON WE'RE HERE WE'RE LIVING

BUT BACK TO S6 SO WE HAVE BELLAMY BEING THE FIRST TO REALIZE THAT CLARKE WANS'T CLARKE AND WE HAVE THIS BEAUTIFUL MOMENT

I’m here and all of this is glorious

OH YEAH THERE'S ALSO THIS BUT I DIGRESS https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618548726524510208/historyofbellarke-5x09-6x04-6x05 THE FIRST ONE HERE - https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/616075629201408000/just-some-clips-ofabout-bellamy-where-either HE'S WILLING TO RISK EVERYTHING EBCAUSE CLARKE MIGHT BE AT RISK  EVEN THOUGH THEY LITERALLY HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO OH YEAH FUCKING MURPHY - I'LL GET BACK TO HIM ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE BELLAMY FIGURING IT OUT AND THE HORROR BLOOMING IN HIS SOUL AND THEN WE HAVE HIM LITERALLY WITH A ROOM DESTROYED EVERN THOUGH HE IS CHAINED UP LIKE SERIOUSLY HOW DID HE MANAGE THAT AND THEN TRY TO KILL RUSSELL THE SECOND HE COULD BECAUSE HE HURT CLARKE EVEN THOUGH, AGAIN, THAT'S THE ONLY WAY HE AND HIS PEOPLE COULD SURIVVE BUT WITHOUT CLARKE, HE'S NOT ALIVE. HE ONLY SURVIVES AND HOW DO WE KNOW THIS? BECAUSE HE FUCKING SAYS IT (implicitly)

I just came into this. I have nothing to add I just want to say I’m living for it

:heart:

Agreed, this conversation is giving meaning to my insomnia :joy:

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618973621000585216/just-a-reminder-that-bellamy-canonically-only

WHOLE F*ING THING ON SURVIVING VS LIVING AND THEN ONCE HE DECIDES THEY'RE GOING TO LIVE (AND LET RUSSELL LIVE)  BECAUSE IT'S WHAT CLARKE WOULD'VE WANTED, HE SAYS "WE SURVIVE" LOOKING LIKE THE SADDEST FUCKING PUPPY IN EXISTENCE AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FACT THAT WE HAD A WHOLE DAMN EPISODE OF A 13 EPISODE SEASON DEVOTED TO BELLAMY SUFFERING BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIED AGAIN 3 WEEKS AFTER SHE WAS RESURRECTED SUBTLE, JASON. SUBTLE. OK NOW BACK TO MY BELOVED COCKROACH MURPHY AND BELLAMY ARE ARGUABLY THE TWO CLOSEST NON-ROMANTIC (:upside_down:) PEOPLE ON THE SHIP THE RING RIGHT? OK WE'RE GOING WITH IT ANYWAY

Hmmm yes(I agreee) but also Clarke and Murphy have that understanding that transcends words?

THEY ARE THE CLOSEST ROMANCE WITHSTANDING ON THE SHIP

AND MURPHY, MY BELOVED MURPHY, HAS BEEN THERE FROM "I'LL CHOP HER HAND OFF" TO "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK CLARKE IS UNCONSCIOUS AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO" TO "YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE HERE SAVING SOMEONE THEY CARE ABOUT"

BECAUSE BELLAMY DOES NOT EVEN KNOW ECHO'S ACTUAL NAME AND THEREFORE THEY ARE NOT CLOSE

LOL SO MURPHY AFTER 6 YEARS IS TRYING TO GET BELLAMY TO DO SOMETHING HE WANTS (WE'RE BACK IN SEASON 5 NOW, SORRY) AND HOW DOES HE DO THAT?

AND INVOLKES MOM'S NAME

BLESSED BE "WELL IF CLARKE WAS HERE" BELLAMY ESPLODES OK SO NOW WE HAVE MURPHY AGAIN WHO KNOWSSSS AND WHAT DOES HE SAY TO JOSIE? ABOUT BELLAMY

If Clarke is dead Bellamy will kill us all HE KNOWS

BAM ALSO, REFER BACK TO PREVIOUS GIFSET, SAME MURPHY "OH YEAH I'LL TRY TO HELP ECHO TOO" BECAUSE MURPHY KNOWSSSS OOK THAT'S ALL FOR MURPHY NOW SO WE HAVE BELLAMY "WE'RE GOING TO SURVIVE BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE WITHJOUT CLARKE BUT I'M GOING TO ONCE AGAIN HONOR HER FUCKING MEMORY" UNTILLLLLL WHAT HAPPENS

lol @ Murphy having to remind Bell his gf exists hahahah UNTIL HIS SOUL REALIZES CLARKE IS ALIVE

BUT HOW DOES HE REALIZE THAT

BECAUSE YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE OF EARTH SKILLS NO

HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE HIS SOUL FUCKING KNEW HIS WIFE WAS ALIVE

Yesss

PLATONIC SOULMATE MY ASS JASON

Morse code is life

[okay rant over, continue Kate]

MILLER'S FACE WAS LIKE "YOU FUCKING WHAT MAN?"

(side note- i am getting alive in morse code on my wrist when covid clears) OK SO WE'RE BACK SO WE HAVE JOSIE TAPPING HER FINGERS

Oh I love that I have friend who has that tattoo

YES TAP TAP MILLER GOING WTF BELL GOING ALL GIDDY PUPPY WITH A BONE

WHICH MEANS BELLAMY HAD TO HAVE GONE BACK TO HIS FAMILY AND SAY "OK WE'RE GOING TO RESCUE MY DEAD WIFE. SHE'S ALIVE. IKNOW BECAUSE JOSIE WAS TAPPING HER FINGERS." AND THE FAMILY HAD TO GO "YEAH OK THAT MAKES SENSE."

AND NO ONE QUESTIONED IT BECAUSE THEY BEEN KNEW

Yessss

SO WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO? LIKE IT WAS EVEN A QUESTION. THEY'RE RESCUING CLARKE AND BY THEY'RE I MEAN HE BECAUSE HE DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THEM AT THE MOMENT SO HE'S LIKE "READY OR NOT, I'M RESCUING MY WIFE. BYEEEEE" AND JORDAN'S LIKE "WHAT ABOUT PRIYA?" AND EVERYONE'S LIKE ".... SORRY BRO. CLARKE. YOU WANTED HEART BELLAMY. YOU GOT HIM." SO HE GOES, LEAVING HIS FAMILY BEHIND WITH A BUNCH OF PSYCHOPATHIC MURDERERS WHO KNOW THAT BELLAMY IS GOING TO KILL THEIR DAUGHTER BUT HE'S JUST LIKE... BYE AND HE KNOWS, AND WE KNOW THAT HE KNOWS, BECAUSE JOSIE TAUNTS HIM ABOUT IT THE WHOLE TIME BECAUSE JOSIE IS THE AUDIENCE BASICALLY

JOSIE IS US BUT SLIGHTLY MORE PSYCHOTIC

ALL RIGHT SO SKIPPING AHEAD, SKIPPING AHEAD, YOU HAVE JOSIE'S WHOLE RUN DOWN OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

TOGETHER

AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE"

EXHAUSTING

INSTEAD OF I FUCKING LOVE YOU BECAUSE CHORUS SO WE GET CLARKE BACK THROUGH SHEER FORCE OF BELLAMY'S WILL

>AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE" @kate (historyofbellarke) "I LOVE YOU, BITCH. I AIN'T EVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU, BITCH."

"I'LL SHAVE THE BEARD" SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) AND THEN CLARKE COMING BACK TO LIFE BECAUSE BELLAMY WOULDN'T GIVE UP AND THEN WE HAVE OCTAVIA, MY BROTHER POISONED ME FOR HIS WIFE AND I STILL RAISED MY NIECE ON STORIES OF EPIC BELLARKE, BLAKE IN THE BACKGROUND BEING ALL OF US

>SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) @kate (historyofbellarke) OMG I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS BUT IMMA WAIT TIL WE'RE DONE TO POP INTO SPEC TO TALK IT OUT OKAY CONTINUE

i'm going to keep going, but have i done a pretty good job of convincing anyone who was wavering? because remember this is all canon.  i have done absolutely no spec-ing at all.

I'm very hype rn. Ngl.

lol

Could flip a tire for Bellarke rn kind of hype

OK SO NOW CLARKE IS ALIVE BUT OH FUCK, THE REST OF THE FAMILY IS IN TROUBLE WE LITERALLY HAD MURPHY, MY BLESSED MURPHY, SHOW UP TO GO "YO. YOUR GIRLFRIEND." AND BELLAMY GO https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/591463308117278720/716493560610029708/tumblr_pv4mkld49N1xsmktho1_500.gif SO OF COURSE, IT'S NOT TIME TO TALK BECAUSE CHORUS

DUMBASSES NO TALKIE

SO WE GET EVERYONE FIXED. A BUNCH OF UNNECESSARY PLOT SHIT HAPPENS. AND THEN BELLAMY LITERALLY PUSHES HIS GIRLFRIEND OUT OF THE WAY TO GO AND DO A DRAMATIC SUNSET REUNION WITH HIS WIFE AND THEN PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT WE'RE IN S7 AM I MISSING S6 STUFF? PROBABLY BUT Y'ALL IT'S LITERALLY BEEN 4 WEEKS IN CANON AT THIS POINT AND I MISSED A LOT OF SHIT. SO Y'KNOW. OUR BABIES ARE TIRED N AND NOW WE'RE ALL GOOD RIGHT? JUST GONNA GO HAVE A QUICK MEETING WITH GABRIEL AND THEN GO BACK TO MY WIFE SO WE CAN TALK OVER SOME TEA THEN BAM, O GETS STABBED AND THEN WE HAVE . 4 EPISODES THAT HAPPEN OVER 2 DAYS BEFORE CLARKE'S LIKE "WELP. I'M THROWING MYSELF HEAD FIRST INTO A WORM HOLE TO GO GET MY HUSBAND AND HIS STUPID GIRLFRIEND." AND YOU HAVE EVERYONE ELSE GOING "I'M SORRY, DID YOU THINK ANYTHING ELSE WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" AND FOLLOWING AND THE S6/7 WRITERS MOSTLY JUST CHOSE TO IGNORE THAT S4/5 WRITERS GAVE CLARKE A DAUGHTER BECAUSE, WELL, I DON'T BLAME THEM EVEN THOUGH I LOVE MADI SHE'S AN UNNECESSARY COMPLICATION SO HAND WAVING SHE'S FINE SO NOW WE'RE UP TO PRESENT

Fully convinced Madi was there to ensure Clarke didn't go fully insane on Earth and provide motive for that bitch slap scene from S5.

brb spilled beer

Oh, and to parent trip Bell/Clarke.

>brb spilled beer @kate (historyofbellarke) makes sense after the tea you're spilling on this channel

Someone really oughta document this convo for a later date. lol We will need to reference it before end of the season, bet. lol

blesss i do not deserve my partner he told me to go sit down and is cleaning it also i went to finish the last of the unspilled stuff and promptly spilled it down my chest so ALL RIGHT WHERE WERE WE OH YEAH AND BELLAMY FORGAVE HER BECAUSE MADI WAS LIKE "YO YOU'RE A PARENT TOO AND REMMEBER SHE STOOD BY YOU WHEN YOU PUT OCTAVIA ABOVE LITERALLY EVERYTHING" AND BELLAMY WAS LIKE "OH... SHIT." AND THEN SHE WAS LIKE "SHE CALLE DYOU EVERY DAY YOU DUMBFUCK" AND YOU HAVE THE PATENTED "OMG, DOES CLARKE HAVE FEELINGS FO RME TOO???" JAW DROP BUT NOW BACK TO PRESENT

(Now if someone will just fucking tell her that he did the equivalent grant gestureTM of the radio calls except w/ poison)

i didn't even include the fact that he fucking poisoned O, that diyoza referred to her as his girlfriend, etc etc etc OH AND AS TO WHY HBECHO ISN'T GOING TO BE A HTING ANYMORE BESIDES EVERYTHING I'VE SAID

FINN COLLINS THAT'S WHY

BASUCALLY YES

FINN COLLINS EXCEPT AT LEAST CLARKE KNEW HIS REAL NAME

THEY DID A LITERAL EXACT PARALLEL BETWEEN BELLAMY AND ECHO SPFEIHOi4ur YES LIKE IT'S LIKE THE WRITERS FOUND BESTOFBECHO AND WENT "FUCK, ARE WE NOT BEING OBVIOUS ENOUGH? TIME TO CALL IN ZACH MCGOWAN" ( THEY FUCKING GOT ZACH ON A PLANE FROM LA TO VANCOUVER TO JUST SAY "YOU DON'T LOVE HIM" LIKE I DON'T THINK PEOPLE REALIZE HOW INVOLVED OF A PROCESS IT IS TO GET AN ACTOR THERE - ESPECIALLY IN CANADA WHERE YOU HAVE TO BALANCE NON-CANADIAN WITH CANADIAN ACTORS OR YOU CAN'T SHOOT IN CANADA SO THIS AMERICAN HAD TO BE TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT FOR THE WHOLE SEASON FOR A 2 MINUTE APPERANCE BUT THE WRITERS WERE LIKE "YO HUGE NEON SIGN RIGHT HERE" AND THEN SHE CONTINUED ALL SEASON IN THAT VEIN UNTIL 7X05 WHEN SHE BROKEEEEE OVER HIS "DEATH"

BECAUSE HER SOUL DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS ALIVE LIKE BELL DID CLARKE

AND DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING BELLAMY DID WHEN HE FOUND OUT CLARKE WAS ALIVE

And also as mentioned, she's a shit spy.

BECAUSE THE WRITERS ARE LIKE "CAN WE MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS? I'M NOT SURE HOW!" so now we're at present day and here's a bit of crack spec-ing

THANKS FOR THIS LONG ASS META !!

YOU ARE WELCOME once again if i put that amount of effort into my dissertation, i'd be a phd with a published book or 3

This was a joy to read An utter joy This reaffirmed all my beliefs and got rid of all doubts I had

https://tenor.com/view/about-to-ugly-cry-ugly-cry-emotional-sensitive-crying-gif-8033343 i aim to please so now we have that O/B scene so we as the audience know something is off. bellamy was dragged sobbing and unconscious by his captors to suddenly being awake, fine, and killing a bunch of trained soldiers and holding someone hostage with his left hand. so then you have O, noticing something isn't quite right, casually bringing up clarke's name clarke. fucking. griffin. who bellamy had JUST brought back from the dead after learning she was alive and he's just... calm? about O possibly doing something with these psychos that's related to clarke? HE JUST POISONED HIS SISTER LIKE A WEEK AGO TO SAVE CLARKE'S LIFE i cannot stress this enough. bellamy fucking blake would not just go "huh?" when O, his sister that he's barely tolerating, goes "i'll tell you, you psychotic cultists, everything about my sister-in-law" and that's it. that's where i'm at s6 was about bellamy literally pulling clarke back from death s7 will be about clarke literally crossing time and space to get back to bellamy THIS IS AN EPIC FUCKING LOVE STORY AND ANYONE WHO THINKS OTHERWISE IS WRONG AND NOW I'M GOING TO TAKEA . SHOWER BECAUSE I SPILLED BEER ON MYSELF BUT I WILL BE BACK also i didn't think iw as drunk but then i reread that and started crying so it's definitely shower time

[ddaenggtan]

black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG,  some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it. 

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway. 

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience. 

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain. 

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands. 

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more." 

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet. 

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring. 

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected. 

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough. 

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago. 

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you. 

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better. 

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home. 

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from. 

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing. 

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering. 

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas. 

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd. 

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal. 

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault. 

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name? 

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do. 

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why. 

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success. 

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts. 

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point. 

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process. 

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing." 

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar. 

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks. 

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you." 

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered. 

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space. 

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat. 

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him. 

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive. 

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already. 

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you. 

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles. 

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows. 

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off . 

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse. 

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own. 

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want. 

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way. 

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear . 

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you. 

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are. 

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them. 

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you. 

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself. 

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all. 

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long. 

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar. 

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe. 

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off." 

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws. 

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?" 

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper. 

"You are going to wish that you could die." 

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it. 

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body. 

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight. 

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats. 

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have. 

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages. 

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself. 

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom. 

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns. 

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.” 

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs. 

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says. 

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them. 

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers. 

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out. 

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues. 

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest. 

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head. 

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is: 

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead. 

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway. 

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer. 

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you. 

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.” 

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal. 

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference. 

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is. 

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new. 

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will. 

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.  

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking. 

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore. 

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that. 

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you. 

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings. 

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment. 

Someone says your name and you swing. 

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor. 

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway. 

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to. 

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building. 

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too. 

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you. 

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love. 

If you can love. 

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed. 

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself. 

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is. 

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there. 

Until the night when it’s not. 

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win. 

You would take it back if you could. 

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster. 

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital. 

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal. 

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them. 

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive. 

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips. 

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again. 

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly. 

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you. 

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you. 

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist. 

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair. 

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out. 

“I didn’t-” 

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have. 

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking. 

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her. 

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough. 

It’s never enough. 

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan. 

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster. 

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing. 

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it. 

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips. 

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with. 

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go. 

Frustrated, you pull back. 

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown. 

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress. 

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees. 

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh. 

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free." 

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath. 

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat. 

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve." 

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits? 

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again. 

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time. 

Not with Taehyung. 

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him. 

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating. 

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could. 

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up." 

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind. 

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been. 

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately. 

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you . 

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you. 

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder. 

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come. 

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.” 

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for. 

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose. 

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena. 

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake. 

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs. 

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have. 

He’ll learn. 

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it. 

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face. 

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes. 

The giant swings. 

[crimsonhcadache]

      - ̗̀ NOW INTRODUCING:  IVES ❝ IVY ❞ SERRANO !

( DANNA PAOLA, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, SCORPIO, 24 ) I just spotted IVES “IVY” SERRANO at the beach today. Don’t you know them? They live down by the TOWERS and usually hang out with the RICH KIDS & MUSICIANS cliques. From what I’ve heard, they can be DECEITFUL, but they’re also ADAPTIVE. I always think of them when i hear LAST LAUGH - FLETCHER and tend to associate them with STRAWBERRY CHAMPAGNE, A FRESH SET OF STILETTO NAILS, AND RED LINGERIE. ( tay, she/her, 22, est )

full name: natalie rose serrano ives serrano nicknames: ivy, poison ivy faceclaim: danna paola voiceclaim: lana del rey birthday: november 1st, 1996  zodiac: scorpio sun, aries moon, gemini rising sexuality: bisexual occupation: influencer, instagram model, musician, scammer / thief positive traits: effervescent, bold, creative, charismatic, coquettish, intuitive, ambitious, alluring, adventurous, perceptive  negative traits: cantankerous, deceitful, envious, manipulative, dramatic, stubborn, narcissistic, materialistic, reckless, quick-tempered character inspos: maddy perez euphoria, jackie burkhart that 70’s show, blair waldorf gossip girl, margo hanson the magicians, every lana del rey song ever, lucrecia montesinos and cayetana pando elite, rosa diaz brooklyn nine nine, the entire rose family schitts creek, jen harding dead to me

- ̗̀♡ — › background !

the main thing u need to know about ivy is that she is lying ! always !! her real name isn’t even actually ivy smh

she was born NATALIE ROSE SERRANO, to two working class parents in new york city. she knew from a young age that she was just supposed to be rich and famous, and that something had gotten mixed up somewhere and she was put in the wrong life.

in high school she got a scholarship to a fancy private catholic school, and that’s where she started to hone her craft of manipulating rich people. she would befriend all of the richest bitches at school and take advantage of everything that came along with it: vacations to far away places, stays in the family’s cabins and lake houses, even designer clothes that her friends no longer wanted and would gift to her, thinking it was their idea all along

as she grew up and got better at getting what she wanted out of people, her entitled attitude only got worse, driving a wedge between her and her parents, who kept waiting for her to develop a work ethic and kept being disappointed. a few months after she graduated high school, on her 18th birthday, her parents kicked her out of the house and cut her off, hoping that it would force her to grow up and take on any responsibility

but that plan backfired for them, her parents underestimating how truly stubborn natalie was. the day after her 18th, she wandered into a local strip club and got a job, figuring it’d be the easiest and quickest way to get some cash, and she took to it naturally and actually really enjoyed stripping

she started to embody an entirely new persona that she had created for herself, dancing under the name POISON IVY and telling everyone she was a trust fund baby that had been cut off from her rich parents, needing to dance to supplement her income, and her lies just continued to spiral out of control until she almost started to believe it herself. she had never told anyone at the club her real name, not even the other strippers, just going by “ivy” for a while.

she had learned to weaponize the power she had over people by being pretty and charming, using her looks for absolute evil and doing whatever it took to get money—from straight up pickpocketing, to making men buy her expensive gifts, to blackmailing, to sugar babying, to getting patrons wasted and manipulating them into tipping her absurd amounts… she did it all, very quickly earning enough to live the life she had always dreamed of, that she felt she deserved for whatever twisted reason.

she started posting on instagram with the name poison ivy generally just flaunting her carefree, extravagant life, often exaggerating or down right lying just to really dazzle her quickly growing audience

as she started to go down the influencer route, she realized she needed to do something to hide the skeletons in her closet ( the fact that she didn’t actually come from money and was making far more than was normal for even the best of dancers, a couple of small possession / shoplifting charges, and just generally anything that could lead people to her real identity ) so she started to tell people her name was ives, fully taking on the new identity. she even went so far as to make some of the people that had been closest to her sign NDAs about her real identity, making sure that no one could sell info about her should her plan of being famous work out

she also moved out to california to run away from everyone in the city that was starting to catch on to what she was doing, basically doing all the same shit but now in a New Place.. this was about 3-4 years ago, so she’s been in sunhollow for a while now doing the whole influencer thing !!

and it did work out !! at first she was definitely buying followers/likes to boost her likelihood of brand sponsorships, but eventually she faked it until she made it and actually attained influencer status. she then used her newfound internet fame ( and some classic blackmailing ) to get herself a record deal 

she also started sleeping around with pretty much any famous person she could, having very public relationships and breakups and scandals to keep her name in the press, which ultimately lead to more exposure/people following her, if only to see what she did next, which lead to even more sponsorships

eventually she stopped dancing and just focused on her influencing and more recently ( like... less than 6 months ago recently ) her music career. but she never stopped sugar babying and scamming rich stupid men, still very much using that as a means to keep up her lifestyle. she’s also done a few modeling things, but it’s mostly just like catalog work or being the face of a trendy campaign bc she’s way too short for the runway

she also recently made an only fans account bc she was bored one night and was mostly planning on posting once as a joke but then she made a bunch of money / got a bunch of subscribers and was like oh word ? i can do that ! so she will post on there from time to time but she’s not like… super serious about it ya know ? also her music label is big mad at her for it bc they’re like bUt yOuR rEpUtAtIoN and she’s like yeah.. but my bank account ? also it’s no secret she used to be a stripper so she rly just.. doesn’t give a fuck ! 

so basically she’s jus here making money being pretty and pulling a long ass scam on… everyone

- ̗̀♡ — › personality / headcannons !

she’s a real two faced bitch… she has perfected the art of becoming whoever she thinks other people want her to be, quickly adapting her personality to get whatever she wants

she’s usually pretty friendly actually, really charming and outgoing and just trying to have a good time

she has a pretty short temper tho and holds grudges like you wouldn’t believe, so once you’re on her bad side… good luck lol she is so ruthless

she’s like… deeply, deeply selfish and will always put herself first, but she’s so manipulative that she can make people do things that they think are their idea, but it’s really just something she planted in their head so it’s not always obvious

also very spoiled and will throw a mf fit if she doesn’t get her way or u say no to her

always going out !! always doing the most !! she’s the type to show up randomly at ur door at 8pm on a tuesday with a bottle of tequila and make u party with her whether u like it or not

she’s a lot smarter than she lets on sometimes, like she knows people expect her to be stupid and ditzy and shallow and she’ll let them underestimate her when it’s beneficial

always looks perfectly put together— her nails are always meticulously manicured, usually w stiletto shaped acrylics, and you’ll literally never see her outside her house without makeup and a perfectly composed outfit. it’s also a rare occasion that she’s not wearing at least six inch heels, trying to make up for bein so mf short ( she’s 5’3 )

she talks A Lot but is really good at saying a lot of words without actually saying anything, like you can be best friends with her for months and then just be like “i don’t actually know a single thing about her”

always up to no good and sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong !! she’s always got some sort of scheme going or getting in to some kind of drama

v much a hoe and v much proud of it, will sleep w just about anyone especially if she can get something out of it

also a serial dater !! she’s always hoping in and out of relationships and being rumored to be with a dozen people at once

most definitely calls paparazzi on herself, especially when she’s around other famous ppl but will never admit it

compulsive liar, she will literally lie about the dumbest things like she doesn’t even need a reason to lie she jus.. does

she has a luxury two bedroom apartment that she lives alone in ( one room is kinda a guest room but also mostly just a giant closet ) in the towers and the gag is she doesn’t even know how much her rent is bc one of her random sugar daddies pays her rent.. her power tbh 

- ̗̀♡ — › wanted connections !

hookups / flings / one night stands / fwbs all that shit !!

exes on bad terms … gimme drama pls

enemies / ppl she’s stolen from maybe… she would definitely deny it and say they’re jus jealous of her or smth stupid but that could make the feud worse

party pals !! like i said she goes out a lot and always somehow manages to make new friends and drag them into her shenanigans

on again / off again exes… i want the Angst so bad..

shallow friendships / influencer friends like they play it up a lot for insta bc they both have a pretty big following but they dont really... like each other that much ?? like they definitely seem to be a lot closer than they really are

pr relationships this could be past or present !! in the same vein as the last one except they pretend to date ( or maybe just act like they’re gonna date but never actually do ?? like to fuel rumors ) 

unlikely friends !! like ppl who are nice and sweet and Pure, she could use a lil good energy in her life

situationship / flirtationship like they’re super flirty and maybe hook up a couple times but everyone assumes they’re dating or like gonna date but they’re jus vibing. bonus points if one or both of them actually has feelings but can’t tell if they’re just friends / casually hooking up or if it could turn into something more.. im a slut for some mutual pining !!

neighbors … mb they hate her for always being loud n throwing mini parties OR maybe they join in

mean girl rivalries !!

someone she’s taking advantage of / stealing from without them knowing .. oof

partner in crime !!!

one sided crushes or like someone she’s stringing along smh

sugar daddies mb 😇

someone to put her in her mf place JDKDKD like they call her out on her bs and are like “i see what ur doing bitch stay away from my friends” type thing

idk anything really !! gimme all the messy plots ok :~)

[a-real-ackerman]

Perfect Scenario

Sherlock Fanfic

summary: You, a super human, an excellent actor and a liar with debatable ethics; are having a hard time overcoming feelings  no one new you were capable of. On top of it, you have to deal with your “arch enemy” who has dedicated himself on the way of ruining your chances at your new life.

pairing: Sherlock x superhuman!Reader 

warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, violence, language and horrible mistakes... I dunno, I will write a current warning in red on every chapter.

A/N: Even tho I think Sherlock as an asexual character or not interested etc, I find working with well-known characters and less OC’s quite useful. Also, I see a lot of me in him so I will be writing about him more. Also, the reader is female. Also, gifs are never mine, all credits for those talented people. By the way, in case you see my mistakes don’t be shy, let me know! I am trying to improve my English.

Chapter One: “Trembling Hands.”

      “You don’t know who you are, unlike me.” was written on the card  you  recently received. Menacing words written in an elegant handwriting, appeared by your window, every morning since last Friday. there you stood by your counter, your e/c eyes wandering over the same simple words again and again, in a hopeless struggle to find any clues. You did not know what they wanted or cared about; what part of you they assumed they knew? Your super powers? Your business? Your therapist? Your past? Your parents’ death? All the lies you have been telling whole the time? 

      What you could analyse from each of these notes were the fact that they actually new about you. The words they choose were written in a friendly manner which told you that even tho you have never met them, they knew enough to consider themselves close to you. 

      You had a few assumptions on who they could be:

A secret admirer, in a sense, stalker

A conspiracy theorist who have witnessed your... condition?

One of the investigator who had researched you in your teens

Jimmy

     No matter which one they were,(more likely to be a he), he was a stalker. You did not like stalkers. But you were interested in this one’s motive. You wanted to beat their game before they could put their filthy obsessive hands on your very new and clean life.

     Hopping off the counter, you rushed into the living room and put the card on the brown coffee stand in the middle of the room, right next to others. Walking trough cold blue walls of you flat, you kept mentally checking the places you usually control, in case there were cameras. You were going to take a shower after all.

          “I have to ask him first,” said the man on the line, Holmes’ face shot a fake kind smile as he was face to face with the doctor. “ tell my brother I said hi.”

         Doctor threw a look at the phone in disbelief as Holmes hang up the phone. Sherlock was not in his mood for a new case. Especially not a case from his brother, which involves scammers, government, some mafia and a class action lawsuit that could bring them a big amount of money. The detective was too busy in his mind palace.

        John entered the flat and found his flatmate already waiting for him, sat on his chair with hands in praying position, eyes boring into him like he’s trying to ask something.

       Uncomfortable under the gaze, “Yes, Sherlock ask away.” sighed John.

       “John,” said Sherlock, “I have a suggestion.”

        John looked at him in suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

        “How about going out to see a play tonight?”

         John exhaled out of surprise to his friend’s suggestion, was he asking him on a date? For a case (of course)? 

          “Don’t worry John, about whatever you thought of-I don’t’ prefer to vocalise it. I think we may have a new case, which includes the leading actor. She seems to play a big part in this case as much as the play. I also want to witness myself if she was as good as they talked about.”

         “It’s okay, Sherlock, just for once.”

         Sherlock baffled,” What do you mean by ‘just once’? This is a case just like the others, you don’t want to solve cases anymore?”

         “No,” insisted John, “All I’m saying is: it’s okay to be a human just for once.It’s okay to take interest in a play, film or a person-”

         “-I AM NOT INTERESTED,JOHN,”

         It was too late to deny, John was already going upstairs, with a smug smirk of a self-proud mother who has just embarrassed their teenager.

         You have once again saluted the audience, holding hands with your teammates. A little stronger than usual maybe, you didn’t want to throw the decors and people off the stage. Your hands were trembling more since you couldn’t stop the seconds passing; and your head got dizzier every movement, with the help of flashing stage lights. Mavis, your co-actor since high school, leaned over your ear; “You always get so excited when it ends!” she whispered without knowing anything.

       You shot your perfect, warmest smile as your eyes wandered around the place in case anyone was suspicious. You locked your eyes with an awfully familiar man around your age, with curly hair falling on his forehead and eyes piercing onto you. He knew, he knew something and made it clear. He knew you.

”There she is,” you saw him whispering to his friend. You could listen to them is you focused enough, thanks to not being so human.

         But you choose to not hear anything.Thanks to your instincts being quite active this afternoon, every word had felt no different than a knife stabbing her ears. All of this pain was because you couldn’t use your power today. You were a bomb waiting to explode, your hands itching to throw people to the walls and your screams desired to ruin every window in the city. 

     The torture soon ends, but always leaves you shaken up. You turned from the left corner of the entrance of the theatre and entered the cafe where you have tea every night after performance. You didn’t die to drink it every night actually, yet the calming mix thing of this cafe could put an angry elephant down. Naturally, you could calm down too. It eased your nerves and relaxed your muscles which helped you overcoming your power. I you didn’t bother to control your powers, let’s say, no one nearby could survive.

    Whatever, you took your usual seat and smiled at the kind young waiter. You knew each other now, so you didn’t have to talk.(dreamy isn’t it? not having to talk?) You looked out of the window, watching the shiny cars passing by and colourful lights dancing. You slowly turned to the man who just sat in front of you, his arms crossed on the table and eyes gazing you in a weird expression between curious and astonished. Admiring and contemptuous. Familiar and hateful. Friendly and strange.

    “I have to say I am totally astonished by your acting,” he started. You were right about astonished. You smiled firmly, just because this one was choosing his words firmly. If he is one of those creeps you would send him off. But you had to be careful these days, anyone could lead you to the stalker.

    “You come here often.”

    “Yes, it’s not new. Everyone who has taken interest in stalking me knows.”

     He let out a chuckle which you didn’t expect to be this natural.”Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Ironic, since I have come to apologise for making you uncomfortable.”

    His gaze took a lovely, apologising, soft form, which could melt your heart if you didn’t realise him checking for your expressions in between seconds. He was trying to impress you, for what?

    “It’s not very comforting of you when you follow me to a cafe.”

    “So it did,” he said, paying too much attention on your hands while you reached out to your tea.

    “Is he bothering you miss?” asked the waiter protectively, his voice a few octave deeper than usual.

    “I am fine, thank you Oscar.” you watched him walking away with a nod.”So what did what?”

    “Me. Looking at you. You noticed me in hundreds of people. You saw us talking about you.”

    “Please don’t start with that ‘love-at-first-sight-soulmate’ shit.” 

    “I was actually going to start with ‘you-somehow-know-you-are-in-danger’ shit.”

     Your mouth dropped with his super sassy mic drop. You had to be clueless, oblivious and self centred now. You were a normal person now.

     “Is this a threat? I am amused.” you smirked, don’t let them him the fear.

     “No,” he rolled his eyes, “This is an offer.”

      “I am Sherlock Holmes.”

      “OH!” you relaxed, “I know you, (y/n)(s/n).” you answered shaking his hand.

"Come on, drink it. You seem to be dying for it."

   You reached to the cuppa, not being able to hide your hands. As soon as this herbal smell filled your nose and followed it's way to your heart, a soft needy smile appeared on your lips. You felt your muscles getting back to normal.You opened your eyes.

"Now look," you threatened suddenly," if you are here to investigate my parents' death and sue me for it..."

He was more focused now, his gaze melted down to a more intense, even a curious one.

"I am tired. I am tired of this. For all my teenage years, my past, people defined me as a liar. So keep going, keep evoking my traumas. You won’t find what you’re looking for."

"There is a huge misunderstanding, "

He comforted you, leaning more onto the table, you almost loved this caring facade, a pair of eyes; signing no danger, no threat but just a simple caring feeling, were more than enough to let your guard down and believing someone. Just this once.

"I don't want to sue you. I offer you my help. Someone has opened your case again."

This was too much for you, with all energy trapped in your body your heart started to ache, your hands trembling in a way no one could stop.

"Trembling hands."

"What?"

"Show them."

You obeyed, held them up in front of him.

"I thought tea would help you."

"It does. When no one triggers me."

"Everything could trigger you. You live alone in the house your very own parents committed suicide. You don't even have pets which is surprising because you love animals, judging by a different cat and dog fur on your pants, coat, jumper, pretty much everywhere. You also have been avoiding your therapist, judging by the notification sound that you didn't answer after seeing the name. And no, it can not be your lover because you are alone live alone and have no attempt on your physical self-care, in addition, the cafe you go nearly every day or your friend group doesn't look for someone else after you arrive on your own. But those are not clear assumptions, knowing what your parents like is enough to assume you prefer to be single. You are alone for a reason. You think you’re dangerous.

So you live alone, have no one, and Scotland Yard is investigating you. You get stalked and for a reason, you always stay sharp and have a very defensive observant personality.

You are interesting enough for me. I will take your case."

"Is this a nerd way of asking for my number? If it is I will say yes."

"No, it's better, it is a smart way to interest you."

" What for? Why will you help me?"

" Because there is a game waiting for me,” he sighed, “and I am bored."

"Fine, this is my number here-"

"I already have it!"

Then he rushed out, putting his collars up, ruffling his hair.

A/N: I want to thank @fanfictionislovefanfictioni-blog​ for the request! 

[satanfemme]

first of all, yall were, literally, asking for this essay. second of all I’m aware that it’s wordy, my brain has adhd in it :pensive: so for those reasons I apologize for nothing *hands u this* *hands u this* *hands u th-

Okay so I’ve been thinking about val velocity’s “redemption arc”. 

everyone kinda universally hates it a lot and nearly every time I see val velocity hate, right before I unfollow I notice that it (almost always) involves criticism irt his “redemption”, calling it rushed and not thought through and etc etc etc. 

and then that writing criticism is almost always pushed onto his character, saying that since his redemption was shitty, that’s just reflecting how shitty val is himself. 

I’ve also seen some (v interesting) posts comparing his “redemption” to korse’s redemption, with the conclusion always being drawn that korse was ultimately a better person at the end of the story than val was, specifically because korse’s redemption was handled much better. idc about korse tho, this post isn’t bout him.

So Ok, I’ve Just Been Thinking About It, thinking it over, and all the discussion surrounding it has been rubbing me the wrong way for a long time now, not because I think it’s wrong to say that it’s a shitty redemption arc, but because I Think y’all are approaching it the wrong way entirely. I don’t think it’s a redemption arc at all to begin with. And idk (and tbh idc) what gerard’s true intent was, but imo the impression I get reading the comic is that I don’t think a “redemption” was ever really the intent.

I Think, imo, yall get caught up too much in the redemption arc trope. I’m constantly seeing people shit on the trope and compare less successful iterations to the successful ones (ie: zuko, lmao), but I think yall need to take a step back out of the trope for a bit cause, in this case at least, the reason you think the redemption is so shitty is cause it’s not a redemption to begin with!!! like of course it’s a shitty redemption! cause it’s not a redemption! fkdhghdfj 

I think val’s apology at the end is supposed to make him more sympathetic, that much I think is accurate, but I don’t think he was intended to be hated so intensely to begin with. he was, imo, always meant to be a more complicated and complex character who represents what war/tragedy can do to a person. kinda the “bad end” option for a killjoy rather than a true villain 

(you know, the usual shit I’m always  constantly  saying: he wasn’t an irredeemably evil person, he was just trying to save the desert/was suffering from paranoia and illness/genuinely thought he was in the right, etc, if u follow me u know the drill)

and I think when you approach his “redemption” through that lens and mindset, it begins to make a whole lot more sense. val thought that everything he was doing was “right”, not even in a selfish villainy way, he was convinced that he was going to save the desert and everyone in it through his actions. those actions being, obviously, storming the city and killing everyone inside. all the way up until the end, he not only thought that this was the correct and heroic thing to do, but he thought that it was the only way. he was so caught up in his own vision that he refused to acknowledge that there could’ve been a nonviolent solution to defeating bl/i. literally as the girl was getting drac’ed, with a scarecrow pointing a gun to his head val told her “you led us in here thinking we were going to finally put a stop to bl/i, but you gave up without even trying. not even one gun was fired” 

literally even with the girl telling him that she had a plan, because that plan didn’t involve violence he didn’t think there actually was one (and to be fair! it didn’t really look that hopeful either jhflkjghfdj)

so the way that I interpret him watching the girl do her magical exploding bit, and then him saying to her “I’m sorry... for everything I’ve done.” is less so “oh he’s a good person now, congrats on being a new good guy 🎉” and more so.... “oh he’s finally just realizing that he was wrong to begin with”, because that hadn’t occurred to him before. 

Building Off Of That, my point: it’s not a redemption arc, because it’s not a redemption. It’s literally just an apology. whether the girl (or the audience for that matter) chooses to forgive him or not is left up in the air. in a true redemption arc it would not be so unclear. a real redemption arc would’ve have him and the girl being best friends as if nothing happened because he’s a Good Guy(tm) now. but we don’t get that, we just get an apology, an acknowledgment that he now knows he fucked up, and then a panel or two of him doing puppy dog eyes presumably because he’s now feeling guilty about fucking up so bad. sure, that could lead into a future redemption arc, but as it stands rn at the end of the comic, it’s a kicking-off-point for a redemption at most.

tldr: val velocity doesn’t have a redemption arc. he only has an apology. and  my #HotTake is: I don’t think it’s bad writing Nor something that inherently proves val was the Worst all along, as long as you let yourself view it through that lens and just take it for what it’s meant to be. fjhgkdjfh

[lovelylunarwriting]

Yangyang Prince!AU

Yangyang’s known around the kingdom as less of a prince and more of “the king and queen’s child”

He’s just not the princely type??? He 10/10 looks like a prince and -33/10 acts like one

While some royalty just have that "aura” about them,,,, Yangyang does not

But that’s not a bad thing! He’s incredibly approachable as a person

Not a soul would dare to address him as anything but “Prince”, though, for fear of him overhearing and being like “excuse me what the fuck did you call me”

While the country itself adores the prince and his natural personality, the king and queen take issue with his “lack of royal precedent” and hold him to a ridiculously high standard.

He doesn’t seem to let this dampen his spirit, though. Whenever local newspapers ask him about it, he always says “I’m firstborn and in line to the throne. There’s not much they can do about it regardless if I keep filling the courtyard fountains with soap so that they bubble. Who doesn’t like bubbles?”

Deep down though it takes more of a toll on him. In his eyes, it’s like his parents are saying he isn’t good enough to be king one day.

The reality is that they’re just worried that being in charge of the nation will stress him out like it has them, and they want to prepare him the best they can.

To prepare him for his eventual role, they send Yangyang into the nearby villages to meet with traders from other nations who want to open up shop in the many marketplaces.

Yangyang’s nation is known for their vast and varying markets because they’ll let just about anyone open a business as long as a member of the royal family approves it.

They go about doing this in two ways:

One, they can request an audience with the king and queen and they’ll write up a contract. The king is pretty much there for show, the queen is really the one who’s built this trade empire.

Or, two, if the person is in a rush they can schedule to meet with Prince Yangyang in town and plead their case to him. If he thinks it’s an extenuating circumstance, they essentially get a “Prince Fast-Pass” and receive an immediate audience with the king and queen. 

For example, he had one woman who was a refugee from a war-torn nation across the continent and she came to their country to open up a shop to provide for her and her four kids. Yangyang was like “that sucks, I’m sorry. Do you wanna talk to my mom about it?” and personally escorted her to the palace.

You have been in this market for a  h o t minute though. You got your audience with the king and queen when you were like,,,, twelve?? And you’ve been selling your family’s farms produce ever since.

One of your parents would’ve gone to the audience but there was a Very Serious Ladybug Problem going on with the tomatoes so they sent you instead (the queen was surprised but you presented a fair argument for the business,,,, she had no reason to say no)

So you set up your market every week, Monday through Friday. The weekends are for helping around at home (and sleeping off the work week, of course)

This season’s harvest hasn’t been nearly as plentiful as the previous. It’s not that there’s a shortage necessarily, just that the last season’s harvest was abnormally abundant. 

Which of course means you’ll have to sell pretty much all of it to get a similar profit to last year while keeping the same standard prices (raising the prices wouldn’t be fair to your loyal customers)

“Guess there goes my Saturdays, then…”, you mumble to yourself, deciding to open up the extra day in order to sell every single tomato, carrot, and head of lettuce even if it kills you.

The first Saturday of the season comes and goes with no trouble, and so does the next.

But the third week. That’s when you notice him.

The pickpocket in the bright yellow shoes.

He weaves his way through the crowd with elegance and ease, reaching out here and there, plucking items from stalls, pockets, and displays,  slowly putting them in his pockets.

You find yourself entranced, staring at him slip through stall after stall.

That is until he steps up to yours.

He glances up, making eye contact with you, and flinches.

Apparently your glare was most apparent than you’d intended.

You don’t say anything though and neither does he. He just smirks at you and makes his way to the next stall.

Your eyes follow him and you see him swipe a pair of earrings off the man’s table to your left.

You might’ve said something but:

1.) That particular jeweler is a creep to the women in town so he deserves to be robbed in your opinion, and 

2.) If you snitch on some thief, that only makes you a target to whoever the thief is associated with. You don’t know if he’s got some thuggish friends and you’re not looking for a fight.

That is unless he decides to try and steal from you. Then he better be as good as fighting as he is pickpocketing.

After this initial encounter, you honestly forget about him.

That is until a few months later, when you spot a flash of bright yellow in the massive crowd on another Saturday morning rush.

You fumble to make change for the person buying three dozen heads of lettuce, trying to find his distinctly soft face in the sea of people.

At first you think you’ve lost him, until the lady buying out all your lettuce moves one of her bags and you see him snatch an apple from the barrel in front of your table.

Blinding hot rage sparks its way down your neck and shoulders, and without even thinking you shove the change into the woman’s hands and slide over the table.

The crook looks behind him just in time for you to grab him by the collar and drag him into the nearest alley.

The shock in his eyes is clear and although he tries to fight back, he can’t break your hold.

You shove him up against the brick wall of the alley and ask him one very important question.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He kind of just makes a weird gurgling sound though because your knuckles are pressing into his trachea.

You loosen your grip a little and look at him expectantly.

“I’m the Prince-”, he starts, but you cut him off because listen you might not be rich but you’re not stupid.

“Bullshit. And you can keep that apple, but you better hope I never catch you stealing from me again”, you say, throwing him by the front of his shirt even further into the alley and storming back to your booth.

Once you gather your bearings, you think about the encounter.

You can’t pinpoint what it is that pisses you off so much about this guy in particular. There’s always been thieves in the market, it’s practically part of the system at this point.

But there’s always been one thing about the thieves that made you understand in a way, why they steal.

They almost always steal food and it’s because they need it. For themselves and probably their families. And you can’t find it in yourself to fault them for that.

But this bright-shoed bandit? He looks like he’s never missed a meal in his life. He’s got full cheeks, tan skin, toned muscles, and is missing that look of sheer desperation that’s in the eyes of all the thieves you’ve encountered thus far.

The only thing in this boy’s eyes is arrogance. And something else you can’t quite identify yet.

Sunday passes and you try to relax, but remembering that encounter just irks you.

Mom: “Y/N,,,, what are you doing”

You: “I’M GONNA GO PLOW THE FIELDS”

Mom: “Why would you do that by hand?? We have an ox for that??”

You: “Because I’m pissED oFF okaY”

It’s not until Monday that you hear the townspeople gossip like crazy about something that happened at the Sunday Market.

Even the vendors are talking about it instead of the usual small talk with customers.

“Did you hear? The prince rode into the marketplace on horseback yesterday”

“Hear? I was there! He made such a big scene!”

“Apparently he was looking for someone but he didn’t even know their name”

“Typical Prince Yangyang- he’s always up to something crazy. He’s such a lovely sight though~”

This goes on for hours and towards the end of the day you swear if you hear one more thing about “PriNcE YaNgyaNg anD hiS goRgEous faCe” or “PrinCe YanGyaNg aNd hiS sTeaMy mUScleS”, you might actually just close up shop and leave early.

At first it was interesting, but everyone’s repeating the same thing for h o u r s

Except for the man you’re currently selling tomatoes to.

“Yeah it wasn’t hard tah miss him with those bright ass shoes ah his”

Your whole body jolts and you drop the change the man just set in your hand.

Apologizing, you scramble to pick it all up and drop the coins on the table.

“What do you mean ‘bright ass shoes’, sir?”, you ask, your demeanor becoming physically tense.

“You know the kid loves collecting those new kinds ah shoes, right? ‘Sneakers’ or whaddeva ya call em? They’re all the rage in the next kingdom ovah, he musta gotten em imported from there-”, the man drones on and on, whilst you continue to panic.

“Sir please, what color were they?”

“Oh they were yellow like you wouldn’t believe! Brighter than the sun itself, and- hey! Where are you going?”

You hand the man his bag of tomatoes, grab what little produce is left and close down shop. If the prince comes back again today he could have you thrown in jail for treason for the way you spoke to him.

Everything's in the horse-drawn cart and you’re pretty much ready to go until you remember you left the change on the table.

Cursing to yourself, you abandon the cart for a brief moment and rush back to grab the money, but right as you reach for it, someone grabs your wrist.

Without thinking, you twist their arm around and pin them face first into the table.

Some of the coins fall off from the sudden impact and as your eyes follow them down…. you notice the man’s yellow shoes.

You quickly release him,,,, this thief,,,, the prince

As he slowly turns around, you contemplate whether you should request execution by hanging or guillotine….

But when he sees that it’s you, he just starts laughing.

Not like a maniacal “aha I’ve got you noW peasaNT” kind of laugh like you’d expect though. A genuine laugh from this boy.

From this p r i n c e

All instincts are telling you to bolt and just move to a different marketplace but,,,, you wanna know what this guy’s deal is.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you talk to him.

“Your Royal Highness”, you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Ah, so you believe me now? What’s changed?”, he asks and his voice sounds like honey. For some reason you’d expected him to be harsher.

“Your prance around town yesterday has been all anyone’s talking about today, Prince of Thieves”, you explain with disinterest dripping from your mouth.

“Prince of Thieves? I am prince of this nation, I’ll have you know”, he says and there’s that look in his eyes again that you can’t quite pin down.

“Then act like it”, you say with a certain degree of malice, and storm off to your horse and cart, leaving the money behind. It’s not worth it to grab it.

His eyes widen and he just stands there for a moment before chasing after you.

“Just- wait a minute!”, he shouts, running up behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You grab his wrist, pulling him forward onto your back, and then flip him over onto the ground.

Once he’s down, you pin him down with your hands on his wrists and a knee on either side of his hips.

“I don’t care that you’re the prince. Your title means nothing to me. I care that you’re a thief. You steal from people who actually need money to live, and why? For the thrill of it? Grow up. If you want people to call you Prince then you better start acting like one”, you lay into him, letting all your frustration with him out at once.

You expect him to get angry with you. Maybe even yell. But he just looks,,,, sad. A little defeated, if anything.

“That’s not why I came here”

“You’re right, let me get off you so you can go pickpocket my customers”, you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off your pant legs.

“No, I came here looking for you. That’s why I came here yesterday, too”, he says, getting up and stepping between you and your horse. “Please, I need your help”

You take a deep breath in and out.

“My help with what exactly?”

“You fight like no one I’ve ever seen before. I need you to teach me”, he explains.

“Isn’t that what you have the knights for?”, you ask.

“They go easy on me. They’re worried if they hurt me while practicing, they’ll be fired by my mom”

“I don’t see why they’re concerned about hitting you in the face. It’s practically all I can think about right now”, you say nonchalantly.

“Wow okay- I could’ve gone without knowing that. But what do you say? Will you teach me? You’ve already showed me like three moves, just,,,, not on purpose I guess”

And for some reason,,,,, maybe because you’re lowkey worried he’ll actually have you hanged,,,,, you say yes.

You tell him it’ll have to be on Sundays and that he’ll have to come down to the family farm because “there’s no way in hell I’ll fight you that close to the queen’s wrath”

When you meet with him that Sunday though, he’s actually,,, quite charming??? And very polite to your parents, who were extremely surprised to see the prince on their front step (you might’ve forgotten to tell them about it)

This begins a routine of Prince Yangyang dragging you out of bed at dawn to spar with him in the barn out back behind your house.

The first few times he’d leave in the afternoon saying he “didn’t want to take up too much of your time”

But every time he leaves,,,, you find yourself missing his company.

Listen, he was an ass at first and he’s still an ass but it’s growing on you.

So one day, you ask him if he’d want to stay for dinner. And to your own shock, he immediately agrees.

He banters back and forth with you, makes jokes with your dad, and flatters your mom.

He’s got all of you around his finger and he’s not even trying to. He’s just being himself.

Now every Sunday he still wakes you up at dawn, much to your dismay, but he stays the whole day instead.

You spend the day together sparring, trying to knock each other into the pond, having lighthearted conversations, and getting the produce ready to go to market the next day.

To you, he stopped feeling like a prince a while ago honestly he never felt like a prince to start with but still

He’s your friend Yangyang that you throw into hay bales while teaching him self defense

One of those nights, the two of you are laying on the roof of the barn looking at the stars, when he says that he’d better head back to the castle.

“Can I ask you a question first?”, you ask, sitting up to face him.

“You technically just did”

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean”

“Hit me with it”, he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back towards the speckled sky.

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why do you steal from the marketplace?”, you finally ask, after silently wondering for months at this point.

“I don’t anymore”, he answers somewhat defensively, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Okay, then why did you?”

“...”

“...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want….”, you say somewhat resigned.

Over the past month or so, things between the two of you has felt,,,, different.

You’ve been closer than ever, and talk to each other like you’ve known each other for years.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for him.

But it feels like he’s got a barrier built up between him and the world.

Everything fiber of your being aches to shatter it. For him to feel like he can trust you, even if he can’t trust anyone else.To be special to him the way he’s special to you.

“I needed to do something to break out”, he says after some silence.

“Break out of what?”, you ask, trying to be gentle.

“Out of the box my parents are desperately trying to cram me into. I know they want what’s best for me and the country but,,,, it’s just so much pressure. I needed to do something else- anything else, even if it was stupid”

You scoot over to him and he sits up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself closer to him.

At first he just sits there, stunned, but then tightly returns the embrace and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stay like that for who knows how long, with him getting everything off his chest and you quietly listening and running your fingers through his hair.

From that night onward, the two of you are practically inseparable. 

Neither of you have said that you’re an item,,, and for a while you were like “am I making this shit up or does he like me”.

But one day, he’s sitting behind your booth in the marketplace (like he usually is. You’d think as a prince he’d have more to do,,,), eating all of your apples, when he taps you on the shoulder.

“I’m in the middle of a sale”, you snap, and turn back around to the customer.

When you finish, you turn around and he hands you an apple that is just,,, seeping with juice.

“Yangyang,,, w h y”

“Flip it over!”

So you do, and he’s carved “for my beautiful s/o~” into the side of the apple.

You can’t help but smile at his literally sweet gesture.

But you also can’t help but make direct eye contact with him and bite straight into the carved part of the apple.

The look of horror on his face made your day.

He’s got a habit of making your day everyday, though.

[trensu]

Episode 48: The One where JGY and SS Host a Pity Party and Everyone Wishes They Hadn't

The show just dunks us right into yunmeng bro feelings again

jc's all should i get on my knees and thank you?

and wwx is like i never wanted your thanks

and now jc is just spilling his insecurities all over the place

Blah wwx was always better than him blah blah everyone liked wwx more blah blah DADDY ISSUES blah blah blah

and wwx just looks more and more hurt as all this bitterness is pouring out of his little brother 😞

i mean even jl was like hey uncle, maybe don't do that???

lwj is glaring at jc the whole time ofc

and jc gets so mad he tries to start a physical fight EVEN THO HE HAS A GAPING STAB WOUND IN THE CHEST

which is actually quite hilarious if you ignore how utterly heartbreaking the yunmeng bros relationship is

thankfully jl and lxc hold him back (not that he could've gone very far bc again GAPING STAB WOUND)

and ofc lwj has to throw in his two cents

lwj: clan leader jiang. Discretion

oh lwj, a man of few words

Oh no, ohno, oh nooooo, jc’s starting on their oath oh god

“YOU SAID THAT I WOULD BE THE CLAN LEADER AND YOU WOULD BE MY SUBORDINATE. YOU WOULD ASSIST ME FOR LIFE”

“SO WHAT IF THE TWIN JADES OF GUSU ARE THERE. WE WERE THE TWIN HEROES OF YUNMENG”

*GROSS SOBBING*

CAN I TOO GET A GAPING STAB WOUND IN THE CHEST BC I'M PRETTY SURE THAT WOULD HURT LESS

OH GOD WWX'S EYES ARE ALL RED

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING. YOU TREAT ME LIKE A LITTLE FOOL."

OH THIS HURTS SO MUCH

that last bit, tho. i can't even hold that against him bc wwx DID lie to him. he DID neglect to trust him and his judgement. 

he took jc's choice away and made it for him, and that's not cool. 

and, like, i get it, I do bc i would probably want to do the same thing wwx did if i were in a similar situation with my own siblings

BUT STILL

jc: shouldn't i hate you? can't i hate you?

WHICH REALLY JUST TELLS ME THAT HE DOESN'T HATE WWX

HE WOULD NOT BE THIS TORN UP, THIS TEARFUL MESS, IF HE DIDN'T STILL LOVE HIS BROTHER AND WANT HIM BACK

this whole time jc is inching towards wwx, getting closer and closer until he's close enough to punch him if he wanted

Jc does make a sudden sharp movement towards wwx 

Which obvs has lwj jolting forward to protect wwx

But wwx IMMEDIATELY puts a hand on lwj's knee

jin ling darts forward to hold his uncle and is like, hanguang jun, my uncle's hurt!!

BC JC IS THE ONLY NOT EVIL AND/OR DEAD FAMILY HE HAS LEFT 

AND EVEN JL KNOWS THAT LWJ IS SO VERY WILLING TO HURT ANYONE WHO HURTS WWX

I AM HAVING TOO MANY EMOTIONS

jc's angry and hurting and is like i'm not afraid of lwj, come at me bro

lwj GLARES at him, brow furrowed and mouth pinched

jc: why? why wwx? why didn't you tell me?

oh god, he's not even yelling anymore, he's just fucking crying and i'm crying and there's just wet icky tears everywhere

wwx takes a shuddery breath and tells him it's bc he didn't want to see him like this

JC: you said i would be clan leader and you would be my subordinate. you would assist me for life. you'd never betray the jiang clan. you said it yourself

HE'S NOT YELLING. HE'S NOT EVEN ANGRY

his voice is weak, and shaky, and weepy and he's just so, so hurt

AND I'M A SOBBING MESS

and wwx swallows passed the lump in his throat but his voice still sounds a bit raw when he speaks

wwx: i'm sorry. i broke my promise.

FUCK 

FUCKING HELL

MY YUNMENG BROS

jc: we've reached this point. i don't need your apology now. i'm not that delicate

STFU JC, YOU BALD-FACED LIAR, "NOT THAT DELICATE" 

YOU'RE AS MUCH OF A SOBBING WRECK RN AS I AM

GET A THERAPIST JC

"NOT THAT DELICATE" I'M GONNA PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE IS WHAT I'M GONNA DO. GOD. NOT THAT DELICATE

JC: i'm sorry

*sobsobsobsob* MY YUNMENG BROS

wwx: don't apologize to me. that's what i owed the jiang clan.

here wwx closes the distance between them to place a hand on his brother's arm

HUG HIM GOD DAMN IT, LET MY YUNMENG BROS HAVE A PROPER HUG

wwx: as for this matter, please don't keep it in your heart.

and he goes on to say smth like i know you probably won't let go, but it's water under the bridge, that was all stuff that happened in my past life

AND THEN HE REACHES UP AND GENTLY WIPES AWAY JC'S TEARS WITH HIS THUMB

AND GIVES HIM A SWEET LITTLE SMILE

AND I'M DYING. MY HEART HURTS SO MUCH I'M DYING

I SHOULD'VE KEPT A BOX OF TISSUES NEAR ME, MY SLEEVES ARE ALL SNOTTY AND DISGUSTING NOW, DAMN IT ALL

AND THAT WAS ONLY THE FIRST 10 MIN OF THE EPISODE WTF

I’VE BEEN REDUCED TO A SNIFFLING WEEPING MESS IN 10MIN FLAT WTF 

yunmeng bro moment ends (thank god) and we cut to the next scene where nhs is oh so conveniently regaining consciousness

now all the diggers are screaming to remind us that oh yeah, there's like Plot Stuff here, it's not just about the yunmeng bros

ss gives jgy some meds bc he's hurt or smth, who gives a damn

our boys follow jgy back to the dig site for Plot Reasons

and SURPRISE!! we have nmj's no-longer-headless dead body!!

lwj and wwx look at each other like WTF??

oooooh boy, nhs gave jgy the dirtiest look

wwx is being Clever again and pointing out Plot Relevant Things 

ss gets all offended and holds wwx at sword point 

but there's lwj with bichen in its scabbard, one step in front of him and ready to block anything ss sends their way bc lwj is not gonna let wwx get hurt if he can help it

ss is all like wwx you set him up! And wwx’s face is like, i aint even bovvered

wwx: i'm saying this with all modesty, but if i were the one who set him up, i'm afraid he wouldn't have just gotten one arm hurt

HOT DAMN

LOVE MY SUNSHINE BOY

and here my sunshine boy is being all Clever again and laying out all the facts and explaining how there's a 3rd party involved in all this

LOLOLOL HE'S REALLY PLAYING THIS UP FOR JGY TOO

he's like, there might be a predator behind you, the guy who's been spying on you this whole time...HE MIGHT NOT EVEN BE HUMAN

oh wwx, so Dramatic™

but hey it's working bc jgy looks spooked as hell

LOLOLOL

HE SEES JGY START FREAKING OUT AND HE LOOKS OVER TO LWJ AND GRINS AT HIM LIKE, HEY LAN ZHAN, SEE WHAT I DID, LOL, I SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF THIS LOSER, DID YOU SEE? 

oh, now wwx and jc are bound by the wrists but not lwj, for some reason? 

Which, rude, why deny lwj the chance to be tied up? Let him try new experiences! What if he likes to be tied up? 

NOW HE’LL NEVER KNOW BC YOU DIDN’T LET HIM TRY IT

jgy and ss have a moment that i don't care about but i have to mention it

bc RIGHT AFTER we see our precious beautiful sunshine boy lean WAY into lwj's space to talk shit about them

like, seriously, just a couple inches more, and wwx would be resting his cheek on lwj's shoulder 

IT'S WONDERFUL AND I WISH HE'D GET EVEN CLOSER

shockingly, lwj is NOT as distracted as i would be having wwx that close 

bc he's studying ss and SUDDENLY SEES HE'S GOT THE HUNDRED-HOLES CURSE ON HIM 

which btw, EWW?? THAT'S THE GROSSEST THING EVER 

I REALLY WISH THEY'D STOP SHOWING IT SO MUCH BC IT MAKES MY SKIN CRAWL

he tells ss to turn around to get a better look and wwx sees it too!! he's like, IT WAS YOU!!!

and for the audience's benefit, nhs goes to lxc and is all what's going on???

lxc and jc gives some exposition about blah blah blah stuff we know about already

amidst all this we keep getting shots of wwx looking stunned and hurt (but still oh-so-beautiful)

wwx: jgy, i didn't do anything against you back then. we were not even that familiar. you wanted to kill jzx. why did you push that on me?

HE LOOKS SO HURT AND ANGRY AND CONFUSED BC WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM? WHY DID JGY HAVE TO USE HIM??

and lwj is watching wwx while he shouts this and god how can he stand watching his soulmate be hurt over and over and over again?? HOW DOES HE COPE?

jgy does a mini Rant of Evil Explanation and ss does a rant about classism

which, if said by literally anybody else, i'd say hm, yes, you have a point 

but bc it's said by ss, a spineless coward who never takes responsibility for his own actions, i'm like STFU SS

omg lolololol

ss: would i have been swept out of lan clan like a pile of leaves [if I were highborn]??

AND ICE PRINCE LWJ ANSWERS ALMOST BEFORE SS COULD FINISH ASKING

lwj: Yes.

AND THEN HE LOOKS SS DEAD IN THE EYE

lwj: betrayers won't be tolerated by the lan clan

HELL FUCKING YEAH

YOU WEREN'T KICKED OUT BC YOU WERE LOW-BORN, SS

YOU WERE KICKED OUT BC YOU'RE A TRAITOROUS COWARD

and like, i need to point out that lwj is sitting cross legged on the ground right now (along with wwx, ofc) and ss is standing over him while ranting

and YET, the way lwj holds himself and the way he speaks, does in no way indicate that he's at a disadvantage here

dude's unflappable. JADE OF LAN, INDEED

ss is like i am so sick of your condescending attitude

then he's like just bc i made that one little mistake you could never forgive me!!

FUCKING EXCUSE ME??? 

LITTLE? LITTLE MISTAKE??? 

HOW MANY PEOPLE DIED BC OF YOU SS?

HOW MANY DIED BC YOU BETRAYED THEM??

ss continues to rant and starts to go off his rocker

and then wwx starts to laugh but it's not a happy laugh

it is, in fact, a laugh very similar to the laugh we heard in The One where the Moonlit Rooftop Betrays Us

ss is like, what's so funny???

wwx: nothing. i just didn't expect...

AND HE'S GETTING TEARY HERE EVEN AS HE LAUGHS

WWX: i didn't expect you to get so many people killed just for...just for this

HE LOOKS SO DISILLUSIONED

MY POOR PRECIOUS SUNSHINE BOY

THE WORLD KEEPS DISAPPOINTING HIM

omg i want to RING JGY'S NECK WITH ZIDIAN

HE'S GETTING ALL UP IN WWX'S FACE

TELLING HIM THAT NO MATTER HOW KIND OR CHIVALROUS HE IS, HE WILL ALWAYS BE BLAMED FOR ANY BAD THING THAT HAPPENS, THAT NO ONE WILL EVER BELIEVE OR TRUST HIM

FUCK YOU JGY I HATE YOU SO MUCH

MY POOR SUNSHINE BOY IS TREMBLING WITH RAGE

bc he knows it's true. ppl really ARE always going to suspect the yiling patriarch.

oooh, jc just defended his brother! sort of.

But it has the unfortunate side effect of drawing jgy’s attention

so now jgy is cutting into jc

god jgy talks a lot. stfu jgy.

wwx has been teary eyed on and off this entire episode so far but hasn't actually cried

but jgy is now belittling all of jc's work, all the effort he put in to rebuilding lotus pier, implying that he wouldn't have been able to do if not for wwx

and that's the breaking point, that's what makes wwx finally shed a tear.

lwj is watching wwx, as always, and sees wwx cry

he must feel utterly helpless

ooooh, MY CLEVER SUNSHINE BOY

EVEN AMIDST ALL THIS TERRIBLE EMOTIONAL PAIN, HE PICKED UP ON JGY'S TRIGGER WORD(S)

wwx: just a "son of a whore" made you talk so much

oooh jgy tries to leave but wwx stops him in his tracks by asking him how he killed nmj

and then he's like "aren't you afraid?"

CHILLS, MAN, I'M GETTING CHILLS AT HOW HE DELIVERS THIS

SO CALM, COOL AND COLLECTED YET TINGED WITH A THREAT

jgy: afraid of what? (lol he whirls around angrily like the Drama queen he is)

wwx leans forward and looks him dead in the eye

wwx: afraid of him coming back to you

AND THE SMIRK HE WEARS

THAT'S THE SMIRK OF THE YILING PATRIARCH 

He smirks and leans back against the pillar, all easy and relaxed while jgy looks freaked the fuck out

and then

THEN

WWX STARTS TO WHISTLE

RESENTFUL ENERGY COMES IN TO STROKE AT JGY'S ARM ALL MENACINGLY

I'M GETTING CHILLS ALL OVER 

THIS IS SUCH A BADASS MOVE ON WWX'S PART

and also, holy shit do i enjoy those close up shots of wwx's eyes and his beautiful beautiful lips

the sound team did a great job making those whistles sound super eerie, btw

i can't get over how cool and confident wwx looks here

he's not worried or bothered AT ALL, this is him doing what he does best

Wait, do i have a competency kink…?

LOL JGY JUST GOT BITCHSLAPPED BY RESENTFUL ENERGY, LOVE IT

wwx has stopped whistling now, which is unfortunate bc that means no more extreme close-ups on wwx's gorgeous features

jgy: yiling patriarch, you're worthy of your title, aren't you?

YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT HE IS!

Okay yeah, i guess i have a competency kink now, THANKS A LOT WWX

FUCKING SU SHE JUST TRIED STABBING WWX

LWJ TO THE RESCUE, HELL YEAH

OUR MAN HANGUANG JUN LEAPS TO HIS FEET AND NOT ONLY BLOCKS THE STRIKE

HE FREAKING SLICES SU SHE'S WEAK ASS SWORD IN TWO 

THEN FOLLOWS UP WITH A SLICE AT SU SHE'S WRIST

I LOVE YOU HANGUANG JUN

Lwj calmly goes over to wwx and slices off the ropes that were keeping his wrists tied and does the same to jc

wwx goes up to jgy (who's held at sword point by lxc) and calmly takes his weapons

wwx: jgy, hand it over. it's not of much use in your hands.

with a deceivingly dainty clink, Plot Device 3 rolls out of jgy's sleeve and into his hand

then he lets it fall to the ground bc he's a petty bitch that way

we get to see wwx being all Smart Detective and revealing just how long jgy has been planning all this 

jgy’s all like even between me and xy we could only create Plot Device 3 half as powerful as Plot Device 2

LOLOL THAT'S BC THE TWO OF YOU ARE WORTHLESS HACKS.

WWX HAS MORE SKILL AND TALENT IN HIS PINKY FINGER THAN THE BOTH OF YOU COMBINED

man there's a lot of Plot Exposition happening and lxc is having Feelings about it.

DON'T FUCKING LOWER YOUR SWORD LXC WHAT ARE YOU DOING

look lxc, i don't mean to sound cruel or heartless or whatever, but omg i do NOT CARE about your complicated Emotions right now

NOT WHEN IT'S GIVING JGY THE OPENING TO MANIPULATE AN ESCAPE

jgy is now being like "oh, i was wrong" and acting all pitiful and TOTALLY PLAYING LXC FOR A FOOL (AGAIN)

wwx: hey, jgy, can't we stop talking? let's just fight? can we just start killing each other?

LOLOLOLOLOL 

HE TOTALLY SAW THAT JGY WAS MANIPULATING THE SITUATION AGAIN AND IS LIKE, NOPE, NOT DOING THAT AGAIN

LESS WORDS MORE SWORDS PLZ

LIKE, MY BOY IS JUST DONE. HE IS DONE WITH THIS. LET'S GET TO THE FIGHT NOW THX.

jgy ignores this and keeps talking to lxc AND OMG WWX'S FAAAAACE IS CRACKING ME UP 

GOD WORDS ARE NOT GONNA DO IT JUSTICE

HE JUST LOOKS AT JGY FOR A SECOND LIKE, SRSLY BRO? BEFORE ROLLING HIS EYES AND SCRUNCHING UP HIS EYEBROWS LIKE "CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE THIS GUY, JFC"

IT'S SO FREAKING FUNNY OMG

meanwhile jgy continues to throw a pity party that no one likes and the episode ends

There really wasn’t much wangxian time in this episode, fucking jgy and ss decided to HOG ALL THE SCREEN TIME, THOSE PATHETIC WHINY ASSHOLES

but we got a lot of Yungmeng Bros which was painful but waaaay better than anything jgy or ss has to offer

Return to Masterpost

[chemicalarospec]

Genuinely Don’t Say Anything Interesting Here But I Like Talking So Thus I’m Posting This

okay I did like nothing productive today but have a ramble on youtube fanbases, specifically the new gen of mcyt. This was two posts and then I made it one so sorry when I repeat myself. I did edit it tho lol. But that means I also inserted more, so this is just all over the place now. 

me from the future: oh god. all over the place. wait wtf this is so long. I don’t even have much to say I just like writing the same sentence three different ways and refusing to cut any of them. I’m sorry; I don’t know how to edit; this is informal AF. (can I use three semicolons? at least one of those is wrong anyways lol.)

edit: I’m so sorry I forgot about having a “read more” last night laksjdflksjad. Also idk if I even agree with myself lmao.

it’s so funny how mcyt is like The Thing now. It’s not cool to like it anymore lol, cuz everybody does. (This is a me thing. I like being special lol. I also self-define “cool” so you should not take it to heart when I say it’s not cool.)

I mean, just thinking about the Dream SMP as something I *do* want to get into, it doesn’t feel like “our thing” -- it’s has the feel of a HUGE fandom. Seriously, I’m in the phandom, which ngl has been dead since 2018, and the fanbase for the SMP has a much different, bigger feel. Idk what i’m getting at, it feels imposing? looking at the Dream SMP fandom seems similar in scope and slightly in atmosphere to pre-2019 phandom, at least to me, and it’s actually making me grateful that I joined now and not all that time ago.

Also I brought up the “our thing” bit because of the mcr post that goes “funny how MCR seems like our little secret and the biggest thing in the world at the same time” and I kinda thought that was just how all fandoms worked? idk I was going to assert that the truth is different but I thought some more and now I’m not sure.

but yeah I like the “our little secret” feel and somehow the phandom has (re)gained that while technoblade (and the new gen of mcyt as a whole) is loosing it.

I mean, I’ve been watching Technoblade since the bedwars winstreak. He had less than a millions subs but most people I brought him up to actually did know who he was. He was big but he wasn’t *famous* -- we all knew about him and we all cared. Like the only person who knew who he was and didn’t care had a little brother(s?) that loved him (wait why is this all in past tense this is all still true). (Yes AFC this has become a callout post for you mocking techno lol.) (If you’re still reading my miNeCRaFT yOuTuBeR fAnBaSe MEta. cringe culture is dead tho; I don’t have to say it like that.) 

Anyways, I didn’t follow Technoblade’s Dream SMP streams and now I feel like I’d just be tagging along if I did get into it. (also didn’t watch SMP Earth lol.) This is because I’m a gate-keeping jerk. Or hate missing out. One of those two things. 

(awkward transition where I don’t know how to make my tangent meaningful and have to make it back to the original train of thought I violently interrupted)

As a long time Techno fan, I’m really proud of the growth he’s experiencing, but a little sad too as the community is being -- well, I don’t want to say “infiltrated,” as I don’t want to shade anyone who was simply late to the party -- perhaps diluted? overwhelmed? yeah, overwhelmed by newer fans, and becoming “unmanageable” in a sense; it feels like we’ve lost a bit of our sense of community with the influx of new fans -- no shade to any new fans! This is just the way fandoms work. When the crowd is larger, it becomes harder recognize each member as a person, even if everything else is the same. (”The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic.”) (look this is how my brain works deal with it)

I just really like this small community feel, and it’s a bit daunting looking at the smp fandom. 

Also the growth Dream experienced this year is genuinely ludicrous. I mean, the wide appeal of shipping is part of it, not going to beat around that bush, but there’s just so much and I wanna read an essay from a long-time fan who saw it on why he’s got so much growth. 

I really hate to shame fans and stuff, but part of it, at least for me, is that most of these new fans probably aren’t “minecrafters” like we were. I doubt the majority of them grew up on Stampy, DanTDM, and whatever the other ones I didn’t watch were. I mean, some of this is because Child. For them, the distinction is really pre-quarantine post-quarantine i guess? Really, whether they played Minecraft or not. Again, I know it’s bad to shame fans, but apparently I’m just a terrible person and I feel like it’s more shallow or disingenuous to get into MCYT when it’s popular without already being into Minecraft. 

WAIT that’s it -- Minecraft community, as a whole, is special. It’s a LARGE umbrella of fandoms in general, but that’s the thing: they’re all more communities than fandoms -- from the casual builders to the pro parkour players to those who watched the og youtubers to those who followed the Great Potato War, there was Minecraft Culture. 

And the expanded fandom that’s sprung up around the Dream SMP and possibly Dream in general (???) is more of fandom. It feels like a fandom. People treat it like a fandom, they talk about it in fandom spaces, it is fandom, a modern fandom. Not a quaint “little” Minecraft community. 

I’m not going to say it’s because of the shipping, but... I have no data but at least I can say that it certainly creates an appeal for Fandom People as opposed to Minecraft People. And then also it’s just a fandom thing so it makes the space more fandom. 

Also I realized this is all based upon a feeling, so where did the feeling come from? I was reading in-fandom texts a lot today, and I think the storyline actually might have something to do with it. Also maybe the “talking behind their backs”? I can’t be bothered to remember what I’m comparing to what at this point but that’s definitely done in a lot of other spaces I’m in, so idk.

OH FRICK I’ve mostly been *in* the fandom spaces for real things lmao. (Read: I’m 100% making up everything at this point.) 

(awkward transition because I inserted the last two paragraphs later on)

And really, I played minecraft today for the first time in months. But it’s still with me, you know? The memories of being introduced to it, growing up with it. Going to the Nether with my cousins, my uncle’s giant survival mode cathedral. Mojang being bought by Microsoft and everybody hating it. (... me, my brother, my two friends, essentially... how did we even know??)

[I had part about the minecraft.net writers here but it was completely unrelated so it became it’s own post. I should do that more.]

(With every sentence the target audience of this post gets smaller.)

What was I saying? I’ll just wrap up. 

TL;DR: Dream SMP fandom feels like a fandom and not a Minecraft community and while that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I’ve realized I prefer a community feel, which makes me grateful I joined the phandom now. Also I shouldn’t be allowed to post things past 9:00pm. 

Oh my god I’m so sorry to all my mutrals. My tired loquacious reflex has kicked in. This is essentially a dan and phil stan blog, and though I know a few of you know what I’m going on about, I’m so sorry to the rest of you. 

Well, at least *I* think I’m a fascinating person with interesting things to say hahahahha. 

This is like a diary post. Should I post this? Yeah, other people should share my thoughts lol. OH NO: Late-night Tumblr fandom ramble posts are the new social-justice tirade/generally useless blog-like Goodreads reviews. At least it’s what Tumblr’s made for :P. 

[antman-56]

The Day We Meet Again Pt. 4

Blake (angrily mumbling) : I CAN’T believe he did that!!! TO HIS OWN DAUGHTER!!!

Blake dropped to her bed, falling face first into her pillow.

Blake : Maybe he was right about me. That I am a princess.

??? : Well you kinda are.

Blake turned to the source only to smile upon them.

Blake : Ilia.

Ilia : Sup.

Blake : How did you get in here? And how did you know I was home?

Ilia : Adam’s best operative. Remember And the fact that your famous helps.

She walked towards Blake and the two hugged.

Ilia : Now enough for formalities. What’s got you down?

Blake : My dad.

Ilia : What did he do?

Blake : He doesn’t want to tell me what exactly the Faunus have suffered.

Ilia : But you know what we have suffered.

Blake : Not everything apparently.

Ilia : Well you know we were treated like property, slaves basically.

Blake : I know that, but I want to know exactly everything we have gone through so that our future well never have to suffer it.

Ilia : Well what do you wan to know?

Blake : What Adam saw when he was an enforcer for the White Fang.

Ilia face changed. And it didn’t go unnoticed.

Blake (hopeful) : Ilia do you know what he saw?

Ilia : Blake.... Their is a deference between knowing and seeing.

Blake : I know that-

Ilia : No you don’t. Blake I love you and will follow you to the end of Remnant but you need to drop that idea.

Blake : No. I won’t. 

Ilia : Then if you’ll excuse me.

Ilia walked to her window and left.

Blake sighed. This was going to be a difficult task.

***Morning***

When Blake woke up she was greeted with a warm breakfast and a note.

Note*/* : DON”T YOU DARE ASK THE PEOPLE EITHER!!!!!

Blake sighed. She agreed with the note. To ask them to remember the darkest part of their life would be asking a PTSD soldier if they killed someone.

Blake ate breakfast and did her morning routine, when she left she found most of her team was in the living room talking to a more relaxed version of her mother.

Kali : And that’s how I met Ghira. He made me feel special than anyone and he still dose.

Nora, Weiss, and Ruby were fixated on her story as Jaune, Ren, and Yang were sparring with the guards.

Kali (excited) : Blake your up.

Blake : Mom.

Kali : What’s wrong sweety?

Blake fought the urge to lash out on her mother.

Blake : Other than the fact that dad called the guards to escort me and my friends to their rooms nothing much.

Kali dropped her facade.

Kali : Blake your father has his reasons on what he did. I have to ask tho. Would you beat your father if he refused to answer your questions or if he asked you to leave the room would you’ve?

Blake : Then let me ask you.

Kali : Blake the answer is no. I never saw what Adam reported to your father. He only gave it to him and I don’t know if he has them or destroyed them.

Blake groaned in anger and stomped away.

Nora : How come he won’t tell her?

Weiss : Yeah, she is the future leader of the White Fang so why keep secrets from her?

Ruby : I mean she won’t expose them immediately. She would do what Sienna Khan would do. Don’t you trust her?

Kali : Girls. I love that you support Blake but understand this. What the Faunus have suffered through is a tale as old as time itself. We are treated as less than humans and more than animals. Yes, she should know what we suffered but whats the point of bringing up the past. The facilities that treat us that way are one of a few things that the Fang pursued. 

Ruby : What dose that mean?

Kali : Nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me I think the crumpets are done.

***Outside*** 

Saber and Jaune were exchanging swords while some new recruits, Yang and Ren watched.

Saber (struggling) : Your good kid, but not good enough.

Jaune (also struggling) : Same to you.

It was at this moment that Saber noticed Jaune was unbalanced and kicked his right leg.

Jaune fell to the floor with a thud.

Saber : Not bad kid. You actual gave me more of a challenge than the girl.

Yang : HEY!!

Jaune still on the floor grabbed one of Saber’s legs and pulled.

Saber was caught off guard by the sudden sneak attack and fell next to Jaune. The sudden display made the audience gasp in a mix of excitement and horror. 

Jaune (smiling) : You left your guard down. 

Saber laughed.

Saber : Kid you really are something.

They both got up and began to drink water.

Saber : It’s nice to see new faces here in the island especially the young who consider us equals.

Ren : My motto is “Give respect and if none is given, leave”.

Saber : A good motto.

Yang : Anyway. I got to ask the elephant in the room.

Saber : About Abu?

Abu : WHAT!!!

Yang : Not him!! What happened last night!!

Saber : Never mind!! What do you want to ask?

Yang : Would you have fought us if we resisted?

Saber : Without hesitation.

Jaune : Why?

Saber : Ghira saved my family. My mother. My sister. I owe him my life.

Yang looked at him with confusion while the boys nodded their heads

Yang : What did he do?.

Saber (looks at clock) : Oh look at the time. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to train some kids into men.

With that he took his leave.

Yang : That wasn’t as helpful.

Ren : He just gave us the reason why he would fought us if we resisted.

Yang : But he never really met us until now.

Jaune : Would you trust a person you just met?

Yang : Still... What would have happened if he got hurt?

Ren : Let me ask, Let say Ruby was kidnapped and was about to tortured and you didn’t know who took her. Lets say someone who knows about it saves her and brings her back to you. Wouldn’t you be grateful?

Yang : Yes but to give them your life.

Jaune : Let’s say after they save her she is traumatized, never wanting to be a huntress ever again and you can’t console her but they come up and do it for you. Now Ruby is back to being her cheerful self again. And then gave her a job where she would be comfortable in and love. Would you be more than grateful?

Yang : Alright I get it. I would owe them my life.

Ren : Now you understand. For us if anything happened to Nora and I couldn’t do anything. I would hate myself, but if someone saved her for me. I would be forever grateful. And if they asked for my help then I wouldn’t even hesitate.

Jaune : Same goes for my sisters. I love them all and if someone saved them when I couldn’t then I would give them my enteral service. They just need to call and ask.

Yang : Is it just different for guys and girls when it comes to life debts?

Ren and Jaune : Yes.

Jaune : If it involves someone who has a huge significant part of your life then yes.

Ren : It’s why Ghira has the respect of almost everyone here. And the reason he is getting more recruits to help repel the insurgency.

Yang : Huh. I never would have put it that way.

Ren : Well you see giving kindness as common knowledge so when we took care of Ruby you didn’t say you owed us anything really. It was just us helping a friend.

Jaune : Yeah, the people here probably didn’t get to see your version of life. They were put to work till death and were expected to love it. So, when they saw selflessness...

Yang : They saw a hero.

Ren : Exactly. And when he gave them purpose her in Menagerie ...

Yang : They saw a savior.

Jaune : It’s like when Pyrrha helped trained me. She gave her spare time to help me improve being a huntsman and a better purpose to become one.

They just reached their destination to see the girls eating crumpets.

Nora : This is close to pnacakes~

Ruby : Next to cookies~

Weiss : Miss Bellodona what is the recipe?

Kali : Family secret. And i’m glad you girls like them.

Yang : Is it snack time.

Yang ran up the group to the tray of crumpets.

Nora (seeing Ren) REN TRY THESE!!!

Ren chuckled and walked over to them. He stopped himself when he took a step and saw that Jaune had yet to move.

Ren : You coming.

Jaune : Yeah, I just...

Ren gave him a look. And Jaune smiled.

Jaune : NORA DON”T EAT THEM ALL!!!

***Elsewhere***

??? : My brothers and sisters. We have failed, but it is not the end. Ghira may live but we leave him a mark of our cause. He rose to stop our hero, our savior Adam from reaching his goal. Some claim him a coward but what is a man to do if the enemy is your friend? The people you swore to give equality, FREEDOM!! My brothers and sisters the Belladonnas stopped him because they feared him. They feared the truth that he was right. That we have suffered enough and deserve equality by any means necessary. He did it for the Father, the Mother, the Brother, Sister, the Lover that we had to drag and bury as slaves!!! The Belladonnas don’t know what we suffered but Adam did. He was with us, not in a MANSION but in a mine and was marked by the cursed SCHNEE’S. We will not stop for him for us. When the Panther falls we will rise and give back what the humans gave us. WE WILL RISE!!!

With that a roar of cheers filled the mine and it wasn’t alone.

All around Remnant, a mix of large and small cheers roared with them.

This was only the beginning.