#i got caught up in my evil schemes to make a LOT of money on flight rising Ɛ\> | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

805 notes · View notes

obae-me · 4 years

Text

Maid!Brothers

Here you go folks, some maid brothers as a treat. I know these are also probably just what they did for the butler event but...maids. SFW for these ones, although with enough convincing, I might be pressed to make NSFW ones. Enjoy!

Congratulations! For better or for worse, and for the next few days, the demons that reside in the House of Lamentation are now your maids. Is this due to a curse? Another one of Diavolo’s somewhat sadistic schemes? A dare gone too far? Perhaps you’ve used your pact powers for good evil? Who knows at this point? And to be fair, who cares how it started when you have seven demons greet you at the door every morning?

Lucifer

He was very much not pleased at first. At all. But not for the reasons you’d expect. All of his time spent serving you completely is going to disrupt his enormous piles of work. However, Diavolo has given him a few days leave to...explore this new...career. Now that he’s in this situation with no way out for the foreseeable future, he has no choice but to be the best maid the likes of which you or the Devildom has never seen before. He must go the full mile for the sake of his pride. No one will be making fun of him once he perfectly fulfills his role, and just because he’s wearing a dress and an apron doesn’t mean he’s not still completely bone-chillingly intimidating. In fact, now that he has more free time and his eyes on you nearly everywhere you go, this new form of his is almost scarier.

He wears a traditional outfit; Victorian. One with the long unruffled skirt and sleeves. You hardly see him in white, so the stark pureness of his apron and headband are almost off-putting, but it grows on you quickly. The buttons on his collar and cuffs are a bright royal blue. He’s insistent on still wearing his gloves, which somehow only add more flair to his uniform. You never assumed he’d be caught wearing something like this, and yet he’s so confident in it, you could mistakenly assume he’s done this before.

His main chore is making sure the other maids (his brothers) are fulfilling their duties. He’s written up a beautiful schedule complete with shift changes and chore swaps so no one can complain too much. If he hadn’t done this, nothing would get finished, and all of his brothers would end up flocking to you instead. Of course, with him being in charge of this, no one can prevent him from making sure he gets to stick by your side more than the others by a considerable margin.

Everything he does is absolutely flawless. Your room has never been cleaner or more organized, although now you have a difficult time finding any of your things. Your pens are gathered up by...ink density? And your clothes by material? Now you’re resorted to ask for his assistance. He knows exactly what you like, and how you prefer it prepared. And once, you’d even begin to sneeze and he’d already prepared a handkerchief for you.

Of course...this new caretaking biz of his has unlocked a new side of him, or at least a side he’s never had the time or energy to show. He’s unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly, mind-numbingly...fussy. Constantly straightening your clothes, fixing your hair, asking you every five minutes if there’s anything he can do. You’re unsure if he feels you’re incapable of doing anything right by yourself, or if he just has such an overwhelming urge to take care of you that he can’t even let you put your own shoes on.

“Master, I can’t help but notice you’ve not completed your assignments for today. I’ve already prepared your desk, let me escort you to your room.”

“Master, I know Super Crunchy Devil-Sweet Cookies are your favorite, but they are not good for you. Here, I’ve already prepared a perfectly healthy snack. I know you’ll love it.”

“Master, it is five minutes till your bed-time. I am fully aware you are an adult...yes...nonetheless, I have your bed prepared and will not leave till you are safely in a slumber. I will tuck you in, you must get good sleep after all.”

“Master, let me make sure your bathwater is a safe temperature.”

“Master, let me cut your food for you.”

As the days dredge on, he gets more desperate. It’s been a while since you’ve done something on your own. Lucifer is almost always there. You enjoy it to a degree, but it’s a tad...how do we say...suffocating, knowing your every action is under his watchful gaze. At this moment in time, you’re still unaware if this is how he naturally is, or, without endless work to hold him back, if he’s spiraling out of control. Either way, as much as you appreciate him taking complete care of you, you’ll be happy when the old Lucifer is back.

However, as much as he pushes you, you enjoy the moments with him. You find more fondness for him with every soft brush of his gloves, with all the things he keeps hidden in his pockets only to brandish them whenever you need them.

At one point, you’d both been so drained from the day’s activities, you both went for a stroll in the garden to clear your heads. Yawning, you took a seat on the soft grass, your back leaned up against the trunk of a tree. As you listened to the wind rustle the leaves, Lucifer looked down at you with a small frown. Then, sighing, he joined you, tucking the fabric of his skirt against his legs as he sat. How long had it been since he had simply sat outside for some air? Too long. You both embraced the silence for a moment. No more chattering maids, no more assignments, just the sound of gentle breaths against the breeze. You tilted your head back, watching from the corner of your eye as Lucifer brushed a stray leaf off his apron.

“I’ve exhausted you,” he proclaimed in a soft voice.

You couldn’t quite tell him he hadn’t…”I’m just tired in general.”

He huffs, knowing he was right but not pushing you any further. “Here…” You feel his gloved hand cup the back of your head. The heart in your chest squeezes, but you allow him to guide your body in a lying position, head in his lap. You can’t find the breath to say anything, so you simply adjust into a comfortable position, bringing one of your hands close to your face to gently grasp the apron fabric.

You don’t remember falling asleep, so you don’t recall Lucifer’s arm wrapping around your waist, his sigh of relief when you get some rest, and his eventual slumber when he too lets the peace of your company lull him to sleep.

Maybe him being a maid wasn’t so terrible after all.

Mammon

He was also not happy. So unhappy in fact, he’d refused to have anything to do with this. How is he supposed to make money off this whole deal? Where’s the fun? The thrill? No, no, no, he was absolutely not going to participate. He expected some sort of begging or coercion, but actually each of his brothers were alright in knowing each of them would have more time with you with Mammon out of the way. Well, out of everything, he was not having that. Right after his outburst, he was all too happy to be onboard. He proclaimed he was going to be the best, the cutest, the most amazing maid ever. Naturally. So, all of his brothers might as well go home and leave it to him. The Great Mammon would take it from here. One, they were already home. Two, no, none of them were leaving. As a maid, he’ll most likely end up messing up a lot of things, but you’ve never seen him try harder in his life for something that wasn’t attached with a price tag. And that honestly made it worth it.

He wears a uniform with short sleeves and a mid-rise skirt that stops right at his knees. It sort of reminds you of a diner outfit more than a maid uniform, with two separate pockets sewn into the apron. The apron itself doesn’t go over the chest and around the neck, instead, it simply ties around the waist. The bow wrapped in his hair and his knee-high socks are a pleasing gold color, one that matches the sunglasses he still wears despite it not fitting the rest of his look.

His main chore is errand boy. He’s running from here and there to get you and his brothers what they need to carry out their chores. He’s always busy buying groceries, delivering things to your room, dropping off supplies for the other maids to use. Not only is he the fastest so this is more efficient, but it does a pretty good job of wearing him out at the end of the day.

He always has had the capacity to be cute, but somehow with this new occupation of his, he’s become increasingly adorable. And it’s during this time where you realize how much he cares and pays attention to you. He may be considered a terrible maid, but you appreciate his efforts and the gifts he bought for you, even if he had spent the money for food on it. And where Lucifer strives to keep you safe, Mammon strives to keep you entertained, even if it means going against his older brother’s carefully laid plans.

“Master! While I was out grocery shopping I saw your favorite snacks and snagged them for ya! If you eat them now, I’ll take the trash away so Lucifer never knows, eh?”

“Here is your dinner, Master. I’m sorry it’s so late, Satan was making it all wrong! Tch, What kind of maid forgets that you prefer it prepared soft and without any Super Spicy Devil’s Sauce? I had him remake the whole thing for ya.”

“Welcome home, Master! I’ve finished all my errands for today! So...can I...spend the rest of the day serving you personally?”

“Hey! Master! Lucifer is busy helping Asmo with the laundry, how about we sneak away? You deserve to have a little bit of fun, eh?”

“Master? Oi, Master?...I can’t sleep...can I get something for you? Anything?...No, I didn’t say nothin’, go back to bed.”

Despite the fact that he’s been working non-stop for a change, he’s not that different from the normal Mammon except...maybe not as tsundere. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the beam of joy in his face when he got to welcome you home. He’d make sure if you had another tasteless healthy dinner that there would be a steaming cup of ramen on your nightstand. He’d always keep a little gift in the confines of his apron pockets to give to you anytime he saw you. He’d no longer try to hide his affection, only now he’d excuse it away under the maid excuse. You’d miss it.

You’d especially miss the thrill of having him squirrel you away, the shared giggles between the two of you as Lucifer and his other brothers would run all throughout the house, all in a tizzy, looking for where you’d run off to. Mammon and you both were aware they’d find you in time, so you’d never take the moments for granted.

With one of those moments, he helped you up to the roof through the window. Absolutely dangerous? Probably, but he never once let you go. As he grasped your hand, helping you get steady footing amongst the shingles, the voice of frantic maids calling your title could be heard below. You lifted your head to look in Mammon’s eyes before the two of you started laughing.

“How long ya wanna bet?” The glint in his eyes shone brightly against the Devildom moon, the cheeky tug of his lips manifesting into a smirk.

“This time around?” A breathy scoff escaped your lungs, interrupted by the booming voice of Lucifer calling out Mammon’s name. You didn’t have long. “Ten minutes, tops.”

“Ten?” His eyebrows raised, and he gave a little tisk. “I say seven. If I win, I get to keep this little trinket in my pocket.” He pat his hand over the proclaimed pocket, your curiosity sparking. “If you win, I give it to you.” You both heard a door slam open, and so Mammon quickly grasped the sides of your shoulders to pull you both away from the edge. But it had been too late. Lucifer was on the roof before you two before you could even blink, dragging you both inside the house from the back of your collars.

You had figured Mammon won, since technically it was closest to his guess, however, later that night you found a strange little gift beside your bed. He’d won yet still given you his prize...

Levi

Secretly excited. A little embarrassed, but pleased about the fact that he basically gets to cosplay? Without anyone making fun of him? It’s a little dream of his, and he holds maids in high regard so he gets a short confidence boost. In fact, for the first time in a while, his brothers look to him for advice. He knows all about maids after all, so he knows how to act, what to do, and what to say. No longer is anyone teasing him for being knowledgeable about this topic. As a maid, his Moe points went up by 35, his Dandere points went up by 10, but your overall love for him goes up drastically.

You know he has to wear the most kawaii maid uniform you’ve ever seen. It goes mid-thigh, the skirt poofy from multiple ruffled layers. There’s an orange bow across the chest, some lining the skirt, and one large one in the back. It’s very Lolita, little lacy details scattered everywhere, even his headband. The only thing keeping his legs from being bare are the thigh-high stockings pulled over his feet. He was very embarrassed at first. He stayed in his room for who knows how long until he was sure everyone else was dressed up too. They tried teasing him, but the stars in your eyes and the exclamation of how cute he looked forced everyone else’s mouth shut. Now his siblings are the envious ones.

Levi doesn’t really have one main chore, but his focus naturally centered around anything water related. Watering the several plants in the house, washing dishes, scrubbing tubs, mopping the floors etc. He takes on more than anyone expected him to, but he doesn’t mind having a longer list. Not only is it simply a maid’s duty which he’s proud to uphold, but he sees them as objectives. Plus he doesn’t mind keeping busy, he’d go crazy without something to do.

Surprisingly enough, Levi is almost neck and neck with Lucifer as best Maid. He gets things done quickly and efficiently. Levi’s determination has helped the House of Lamentation stay squeaky clean, and his shy stuttery nature somehow enhances this role of his. If it’s his unhinged personality or simply an act, you’ll never know. He can hardly look you in the eye, keeping his head bowed, and whether it goes against Lucifer’s wishes or not, he’s all too ready to help get you whatever you desire, as a good maid should.

“W-welcome home, Master. No, please don’t step there! The...the floor is still wet, please forgive me. H-here, let me help guide you to the stairs.”

“Let--let me pull your chair out for you, Master. There we go...is that good? Did--did I do okay?”

“I can’t believe Lucifer denied you what you wished for?! That’s not what a maid is supposed to do! They’re supposed to do everything! They should do what their master asks with a grin and a bow! I can be ten times the maid he is!...So...tell me what it is you want, Master, and I--I will do everything I can to fulfill it for you…”

“I-I know I’m not as good as the other maids, but please, Master, let me do something for you!”

Nothing makes him happier than seeing the smile on your face when he does something right. Only, he makes you a little worried. He’s been pushing himself really hard for this. Suddenly changing his lifestyle all at once must be difficult for him. How has he not gone crazy without playing any of his games?

So you indulge him when you have the chance, ordering him to play a game with you or recommend a new show. Then the excited Levi comes back into view, some of the stress melting away as he describes the shows he knows you will love the best. You do like Maid Levi, but you miss his little rants about broken plot, his cries over character death. The otaku that you’d come to know he had hidden himself away these last few days. You’d be happy for him when it was all over.

Until then, you’d let him take care of you. Even if you didn’t need or want anything, you’d go send him off to do something, watching him swell with happiness. Whenever he’d return, you’d make him bow, taking the time to rub his head and assure him he was doing a swell job.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Levi? You’ve done a lot for me today.”

“I can’t!--I mean, I’m alright, Master. It’s my duty to always be attentive!” He attempted a little curtsey, but you could notice his legs slightly tremble.

“Levi…” Once again, you brushed your hand over the top of his head, a finger curling around one of his strands. “You’ve done the most out of everyone here, and even Lucifer is exhausted. I order you to get some rest.”

“But--”

“You would deny a direct order from your Master?” You raised an eyebrow, but kept the soft smile against your lips. He stiffened, but then slowly shook his head. “Good. While you’re at it, I order you to eat a good meal, take a shower, and get at least 8 hours of sleep, understood?”

All he could do was stammer, shifting the weight of his body from one foot to the other. How long had it been since he’d taken decent care of himself? Much too long, probably. You’d felt strange at first dishing out orders left and right, but you didn’t hesitate with these, holding your ground until Levi lowered his head and obeyed.

At least you still had a few more days left with this power. Maybe you’d make him say something nice about himself tomorrow.

Satan

His annoyance was outweighed by the intriguing curiosity. He’d read about maids in some of his history books, but never had the opportunity to see one much less become one. So, he decided to give it a shot as a learning experience. After all, it was only for a few days, and unlike some of his brothers, he could handle nearly anything for a few days. Besides, he saw this as another opportunity to annoy Lucifer at any turn as well as one-up him by being the better servant.

He wears a cat maid outfit, he really didn’t see another option. The fake cat ears atop his head match his hair color perfectly, as well as the fake tail tied around his waist, sticking out of the skirt. There’s a small kitty shaped hole in the middle of his chest and a green paw print pattern in the corner of his apron. A shiny golden bell attached to a green ribbon adorns his neck. He wasn’t embarrassed putting it on, but once he saw the look on your face when you first caught the sight of him, for once he nearly hid away. He could hardly breathe once you started playing with the bell strapped to his throat.

His main chore is cooking. He knows his way around the kitchen well enough and always knows the proper cookbook if he needs to look up something new. Plus, he always tries to go the extra mile, adding little designs to the food he makes for you. Of course, they’re all cat themed. Not only does he find this a great creative outlet, but he relishes the look of excitement on your face when he lifts the lid to the tray. He loves it even more when you upset Lucifer by setting aside your work for him.

His rather bold and assertive nature slowly melted away with time as a maid. Shy Satan is a rare character indeed, and it has you wondering if this is some sort of act he’s putting on for your amusement. He has been secretly taking lessons from Levi after all. Wherever this new side of him came from, you did your best to enjoy it while you could.

“Here is your lunch, Master...I...do you really want me to say it?...Ahem, I--I’m sure you’ll find it cooked to purr-fection…”

“You called for me, Master? Really? You--I--fine...Nya~...can...I go back to work now?”

“I’m not one to question you, Master, but...Is petting my head while I read to you truly necessary?...Alright then...Just don’t tell anyone else about it, please.”

“Master, do you know anything about the strange red light that’s been distracting me from my duties? You know nothing, huh? Hmm…”

“Meow-ster, Paw-lease, I beg of you, no more cat puns.”

Out of everyone so far, you’ll be the most upset when Satan goes back to his normal lifestyle. He would always be off, doing whatever he wanted, requesting your presence at the strangest and almost most inconvenient of times. As a maid, you always knew where he was, and now he would receive affection on your terms, not his. Although, you can tell it’s driving him a little stir crazy, his head snapping to around with the slightest of noises.

So, you thought leaving him to his own devices for a day and not teasing him would be good for him. So, that day, when he brought you breakfast, you thanked him and nodded, beaming at the whiskers on your pancakes, but then sent him away. He curiously tilted his head, but left you in peace. Lunch came, and you did the same, but this time he frowned. You even went as far as to tell him not to worry about dinner, thinking he needed more of a break, but that’s when he spoke his feelings.

“Have I upset you in some way today, Master?” He turned his head slightly away from you, but kept your gaze.

“Of course not, I just thought you deserved a break from my joking today. I’m sure it’s not fun, being stuck inside most of the day, having me as your master.” You gave him a grin of assurance, but he only seemed more upset.

“Do you think I would put as much effort into my service as I do if I didn’t think you were a worthy Master?” He took a small step towards you. “I’m here because I want to be here, so don’t push me away.” He brushed his forehead against your shoulder, blushing but smiling brightly as you rubbed the top of his head.

He could stay like this for a while longer, you didn’t mind.

Asmo

Possibly the most excited of the bunch. Typically, he’s never a fan to take care of someone other than himself, but he did count you as an exception. He would look absolutely adorable for the next few days? And so would his brothers?! It had taken centuries of pointless begging to try to get them to dress up, but they never did, but somehow you always managed what he could not. He was a little clueless at first on how to take care of someone else, but then he figured he would treat you like he did himself, which resulted in the most caring and loving Asmo you’d seen so far.

Did he already have an outfit in mind? Most definitely. Honestly, he attempted to wear nothing but an apron, but that plan was quickly quashed by his siblings. However, he still found a way to rock the maid outfit in his own way. It was a French style uniform, the top squeezing him like a corset. The skirt was so short, it just reached the top of his thighs. Instead of socks, he opted for fishnet tights and a pair of high heel shoes. How he would get anything done in that, you would never know, but he managed despite all odds.

His main chore consisted of mostly laundry. Washing all the sheets, clothes, and curtains in the house, which would take up a surprising amount of his time. He’d make your bed and fold your clothes, preparing an amazing outfit for you to wear the next day. Other than that, he always made sure you and everything else around him looked amazing.

Not much changed at first, he seemed like normal Asmo, complimenting his looks, standing in strange poses as he went about his daily chores. Then, slowly, he talked about you more, paying more and more attention to you till the unthinkable happened, he neglected himself to make sure you were taken care of.

“Oh, Master! Look at what I’m doing! Wouldn’t you say I’m absolutely ravishing as a maid?”

“Master! I picked out an adorable outfit for you to wear tomorrow, it’ll almost be like we’re matching!”

“Master, please, I know Lucifer said this needs to be done, but look at your eyes. Come with me, we must treat you at once.”

“I’m not sure, Master, I think in this case, Lucifer is right. A healthy Master is a beautiful Master! Although, I think you’re breathtaking already. I couldn’t serve just anyone you know!”

“Shut up, Mammon, I don’t care what my hair looks like right now! Where did the Master run off to?! It’s been hours since they drank any water! Their lack of self care is going to be the death of me…”

Asmo ends up being another one for team health. He does your skin care in the morning and at night before you go to bed. Somehow, he always knows when you run out of water, right by your side to refill your cup/bottle before going back to his chores. Asmo makes a great maid, and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be sad to see him go back to normal.

Somehow, he had the magical potential to make coming out of your comfort zone as comfortable as could be. Would he still do the same when this was over? Well, you guessed you had to enjoy it in the moment while it lasted, while he could put you on a pedestal without shoving other people beneath it.

“Which one for tomorrow, Master?” He held up two articles of clothing, both of which were way different than you would normally think to wear.

You frowned, rubbing the fabric of one of the options between your fingers. “For me? I don’t think either of those...work with me. Is there something else?”

“Not work with you? Oh but, Master, anything can work for you. For example, This one,” He took the top and held it against your chest as he gestured to the mirror, “makes your eyes look amazing. And this one makes anyone look amazing, trust me.”

You took a deep breath in, after all, you’d only really be wearing it at home. “Okay, um...this one. Let’s be bold.” He squealed, setting the right outfit aside for the next day, mumbling something to himself about the most beautiful master in the Devildom...whatever that meant.

He always found a way to make you shine, and being a maid didn’t change that.

Beel

He was rather indifferent to the predicament. Everyone was fine? No injuries or foreboding death? He could still eat? No problem there then. It would disrupt his workout schedule more than he preferred, but he found creative ways to use his chores like an at-home gym session. Plus, any excuse to get to hang around you more or do something for you is something he can get behind. Unlike his other brothers, he’s not seeing this as a competition. He’s going to do what he can to the best and fullest of his abilities, just like he always does. For this reason, he’s always been a sort of foundation to depend on, and you’re glad his new position won’t change anything with him.

His uniform...was an issue at first. Either his sleeves and shoulders would rip or the buttons would pop off the chest, so it took a while until something could be form fitting but remain intact. It had gotten to the point where they opted out of sleeves altogether, they were just such a hassle. But other than that, Beel is surprisingly comfortable in a skirt. There’s no issues with the fabric needing to stretch and bend around his thighs. He could do squats for days without any tears! He does find it hard not to eat the red bows and ribbons on his outfit...they just look like pasta in the right lighting.

Like Levi, he has a lot of scattered cleaning to keep him busy. He mows the lawn, wipes down every window, and handles the vacuuming. It's a sight to behold watching him work. At one point, he got so focused, he picked up an entire couch with just one arm as he cleaned underneath. Do you slyly hide things under couches now to have him get it? That’s a secret only you know the answer to.

He’s very good with his tasks, but he struggles with, as Levi calls it, “Moe”. He does his best, and while he might not get the highest points in this category, just him trying is absolutely enough. He desperately wants to succeed, even if being cute is entirely new to him.

“Here, Master, I found this flower while I was working in the garden...do you want it?”

“Master, I...Satan has banned me from the kitchen...do you have any snacks left? I promise I’ll make up for it.”

“Master, please! Do not come in here while I am cleaning! What if something hurts you? Here, let me escort you to safety.”

“No….I won’t accept your dinner...you--you have to eat, Master. I know it’s not your favorite, but it’s good for you.”

“Hey! Where are you trying to go while no one’s looking? It’s not safe going alone, so I will come with you. Wherever you go, Master, I will be there with you…”

He and Lucifer make a great overprotective gang. Beel hardly ever goes against his older brother’s wishes, and in this case, he agrees that your health and safety come above all else. And only now is he worried about every little corner of the house. Boxes? Dangerous. Hot food? Dangerous. How could he live with himself if you burnt your mouth? But not to worry, he is there to make sure you are completely safe.

On one hand, you thoroughly appreciate his consideration, but on the other, you almost miss independence. Although, everything Beel does is with a little smile and those puppy-dog eyes you never have the strength to shoo away.

And actually, his concern did come in handy on a few occasions. There was the time where the cleaning chemicals ended up being dangerous for humans, the time a stack of boxes nearly fell on top of you, but the one you remember most, the time the lawn mower snagged on a pebble and shot it out. With incredible speed, he had tackled you to the ground. You were about to question him until the sound of breaking glass could be heard behind you.

“That was far too close,” Beel sighed, still covering you with his body.

His weight of pure muscle started to weigh heavy on your lungs. “B-Beel…” He quickly got up, helping you to your feet. He straightened the new wrinkles in your clothes, frowning as he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks as he checked you over for wounds. “Beel..I’m okay.”

He let you go as you grabbed his wrists, his brows furrowed deep in worry. “See, Master, I told you it’s dangerous. We should go right to your room.”

“You also said the same thing about my soup, Beel…but...thank you...you always know right when to get me out of trouble.”

With that, he widely beamed. “Of course, Master. That’s my main goal. I will do anything to make sure you are safe...”

Of course, none of that changes whether Beel is a maid or not. Protection is what he does best, that and eating. Although, as a maid, you never have to worry about him stealing your food...so you at least for a bit longer, your snacks are safe.

Belphie

He wasn’t the biggest of fans about the notion of being a maid. It just...sounded like so much work. Endless amounts of chores and menial labor? No thank you. Other than picking up after himself and the occasional chore rotation, cleaning for him was saved for mostly punishments passed out by Lucifer. So, being a maid sounded like torture. However, three things finally convinced him to come around to the idea. One, he always enjoyed ruffling Lucifer’s feathers whenever he could, and this had a lot of potential. Two, Beel was going along with it, and usually he followed his twin wherever he went. And three, you told him it was fine that he didn’t want to do it, which suddenly persuaded him to go along. He never said that he didn’t want to, but now that you mentioned it, he was going to do the opposite.

His uniform is extra poofy and soft. The sleeves are round, the skirt almost sticks out more than Levi’s, and his legs are covered in fleece-lined leggings. His apron and headband are covered in a cow print pattern, and a purple choker necklace decorates his neck. You attempted to coax his tail free to tie a small cowbell around the end of it, but he didn’t entertain the idea. Too noisy.

He’s mostly assigned to dust and straighten cushions and pillows. However, the idea was a bit flawed seeing as how he’d usually end up falling asleep on aforementioned pillows, only to have to have them be messed up right after he fixed them. Although, to be perfectly honest, he’d end up falling asleep no matter what chore he’d been assigned. Just seeing him work though is a feat in itself.

Belphie as a maid hardly changes a thing personality wise, he still tries to pry you away from your responsibilities, tempting you to join him in his slothful ways. So, alongside Mammon and Levi, he focuses on making you happy first and foremost, only, he hopes your wishes coincide along his own.

“Hey, Master, you look tired, how about you come take a nap? I did just fluff up your pillows for you, don’t they look cozy?”

“What does it matter what Lucifer suggested? You’re the Master, do whatever you want. He won’t be able to stop you.”

“I...zzz...no don’t eat that...Beel...Huh!? No I wasn’t sleeping, Master, I was just testing this cushion’s comfort levels. It passes.”

“Okay, I usually say it as a joke, but you’ve been up way too late, Master. Here, it’s a nice cup of hot chocolate I made for you, it should make you sleepy. Once you’re done, we’re going straight to sleep. Yes, I said we.”

He might not have changed all too much, but he does seem a bit happier, not as nonchalant about everything, plus he does get an absolute kick out of seeing Lucifer work alongside his siblings like everyone else. Although, the nighttime is when he thrives. While everyone else is asleep, he makes nightly rounds, ensuring everyone gets good rest, even Lucifer as much as Belphie acts like he can’t stand him.

During the night, if you can’t sleep or end up waking during odd hours, he enjoys being the only maid around. He can have you to himself, and it’s hard to deny a Master who looks as cute as you do when you’re sleepy.

“Another restless night?” He snuck into your room without a sound. He always seemed to know when you were awake.

“Yeah...just my brain won’t shut up I guess.” You groaned, your body trying to remind you that you were exhausted, your muscles aching as you moved.

“That won’t do at all. As much as I would enjoy you being up with me, my Master needs good rest.” He shook his head, and held out a single finger as he told you to wait before speeding away. When he returned, he threw a few more pillows onto your bed and unfurled a different blanket. Albeit a little forcefully, he shoved you back down onto the bed, pulling the new blanket over your shoulders. It surrounded you with fuzzy warmth, your eyes already heavy. The pillows smelled like sugar and lavender. “A little bit of help from Asmo and a nice dryer.” He settled down on his knees near your bedside, telling you stories about the stars until you fell into a restful sleep.

He might not be the best at his tasks, but he always served you in his own little ways.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

770 notes · View notes

2centsnobodyasked4 · 3 years

Text

Teresa VS Rubi

I haven't watched a telenovela since like 2007. I feel like Rebelde was the last one I saw. However, I hold on to a couple of novelas that I thought were outstanding, such as Rubi. With the years, I've come across a lot of talk about 'Teresa' and I wondered why it had the same premise as Rubi. I was slightly intrigued. I learned that the story of Teresa came first back in the day, then Rubi. On social media such as tiktok and youtube, people are always comparing both. I kept saying that obviously Rubi was better because it was the one i watched. So in order to not be THAT biased, i decided to give Teresa a shot. So i just binged the entire novela in a couple of weeks. So here are my 2 cents.

Intro:

Song: La descarada- Reyli

youtube

Song: Esa hembra es mala- Gloria Trevi

youtube

With the songs alone, I will still have to give it to Rubi's intro song. I feel like it was more seductive and more true to what the novela was going to be about. On the other hand, Teresa's theme song felt like it would be more appropriate for Rubi. Because it was sang from the point of view of the 'betrayed friend'. Although you can argue that the betrayed friend was Luisa and that it would be from her point of view, but that only happened towards the very last episodes, so it wouldn't really make sense for it to summarize the entire novela as Reyli's song did.

Furthermore, I enjoy Rubi's intro more, especially the beginning were is says 'Una obra de ..." it makes it seem fancy and like I'm in for a special treat.

The actress

Barbara Mori vs Angelique Boyer

I know I'm going to sound like a jerk by comparing their physical appearance, but I'm going to do it anyway.

Face

They are obviously both beautiful women, but in MY opinion, Barbara Mori's face is more seductive without even trying. She reminds me so much of Megan Fox. On the other hand, Angelique's face is so youthful that she has to work extra hard and make over the top gestures to act out the seductress role.

Body

Although they both have fantastic bodies, they are very different from each other. Once again, Barbara's body gives off a more sensual and natural look. Even the way she moves is a perfect embodiment of Rubi. Angelique once more has a more youthful small body, and the main thing that makes her 'hot' is her boobs, which look really fake and it doesn't play into the story since she's suppose to be poor. Rubi didn't have much of a chest, but she still managed to appear more naturally seductive. Teresa was just constantly exposing her chest to appear seductive.

Acting

Barbara Mori's acting was excellent. She made me feel like thats how she was in real life. Everything came natural to her. Angelique's acting was all over the place. She really had to OVERACT to put her point across. Everything about the novela in general was overacted actually. Angelique had to do over the top facial expressions to show when she was scheming, when she was talking down to people or when she was in love. She came out looking like a cartoon character as opposed to Barbara that made her character seem like a real person.

Story

I've already made this post way longer than i expected and there's so much more that I want to talk about out so I'm just gonna have to shoot out random points:

Evil

I feel like they were both equally evil. They both were horrible to their families, to the men they loved and to their friends. I can't really make my decision on who was worse. I will hand it to Teresa though that she worked and studied hard to have a degree and was an excellent lawyer. However, I've seen arguments that mention that she was smarter that Rubi and relied on her brains instead of her body to get ahead. But thats not true. Sure she had a degree but she didn't get far because of it at all. She did the EXACT same thing that Rubi did, got ahead with her body provoking a rich guy. Sure she played the long game but at then end she did the same thing, not just with Arturo but with Fernando as well. She seduced him, nothing to do with her brain.

Ending

Rubi's ending was EXCELLENT. It has stayed with me for a long time because we finally have a main character that didn't win at the end. She got what she deserved. She lost the man she loved, she lost all her money which is what she fought the most, she lost her beauty, and she lost her beautiful body. EVERYTHING, and it was just excellent.

Teresa's ending left me baffled. She ended up with the man she loved after everything that she did. People may argue that she changed and felt remorse for what she did, but come on. She didn't even suffer for that long. She only regretted things because she was caught and exposed, otherwise she would've never changed. Also the fact that Arturo came to her after what she did to his sister is disgusting. Sure forgive her for what she did to him, but to his innocent sister? Seriously??? I get it, that they wanted for them to have a happy ending since the actors were dating in real life, but that just makes bad story telling.

Plot

It kind of gave me the impression that Teresa was going to follow a similar plot to Rubi's in the sense that Teresa was going to stay in love with Mariano all the way til the end, and that at some point when Teresa was not going to have any more money, that Mariano would now be super rich and prestigious but would want nothing to do with her like in Rubi. Although that would've been a Rubi copy, it would've been a better route to take. Because then other elements seem pointless. Something that I do admire more from Teresa was the fact that Mariano fell in love with Aurora, because in Rubi, it felt like Alejandro, although he married Maribel, it never seemed like he truly loved her. It was more like he cared for her. So i was so ready for an awesome ending to where Teresa was trying to stop the wedding and be suffering because the love of her life no longer loves her. That would've been so satisfying to watch and Mariano's wedding would also be triumphant because he overcame his temptation....however, that didn't happen. Teresa didn't even care, so it makes the wedding kind of pointless to the story. It really felt like 3 quarters of the novela they were building it up that triumph moment, but instead it felt like they changed the direction of story to fit in the real romance between Angelique and Sebastian. To be honest, Arturo's ending should've been the same as his counterpart role in Rubi.

In Summary. I have a lot more bones to pick with Teresa, but the ones that come to mind, are probably mostly the acting, not just of Angelique but of the cast. I think many of them were new actors or something, but their acting was horrible. I can really tell who was new and who was a veteran. Having said all of this, I DID enjoy watching Teresa. I know it may seem like I'm just hating on it and like I didn't enjoy it, but I really did. The first few episodes were really boring but after a while it was hard for me to stop. In one day I would go through 10 episdoes.....bruh, those are like 10 hours a day dedicated to Teresa. It was intriguing and interesting, especially many of the elements that were different from Rubi, such as her becoming a lawyer and her ways that she helped unmask Ruben.

In conclusion though, I do see Rubi as superior. A superior actress, a superior story and superior ending. Maybe a bit is from nostalgia but I did give Teresa a fair chance. Although entertaining, it was not what I would consider a good novela.

Me das miedo Teresa.

Rubi, tan bella como malvada.

#telenovelas #rubi #teresa #teresa vs rubi #novelas #Youtube

50 notes · View notes

shijiujun · 3 years

Photo

Hope everyone is partying (by yourself, spiritually, or with people, all are totally fine) well into the Christmas weekend! I am back with even more recs (I’ll prolly give it a rest at the 10th one sorry for the spam guys)! This one I just finished a few days ago, because CHINA BOOKSTORE PUBLISHED THIS ON CHRISTMAS WITH MANY GOODIES!! And I was like oh cute long-hair dude, let me read this.

Anyway this is a fengshui + supernatural + body-switching type of novel, with a heavy focus on fengshui! I don’t know if everyone knows what fengshui is (I will prolly do a list for Chinese New Year) and I am no expert, but it’s basically like Chinese geomancy where you can calculate a person’s fate, wealth, marriage suitability etc. with things in an individual’s environment.

So a lot of Chinese people, for example businessmen when they have new offices or when couples renovate their homes, they may get a feng shui master to arrange furniture and add crystals or talismans or whatever to increase wealth/prosperity/happiness or harmonize bad energy etc., just an example. When you want to check the compatibility of yourself and your SO, some people do go to the fengshui master and calculate their 八字 (day, hour, time they were born + other things) to see when is an auspicious day to marry etc.

My ex-editor really believes in feng shui masters because hers really predicted a year that her husband got into hugeee trouble like almost to the day itself apparently. And she always wear an accessory with a snake on it because the master said

Written by the same author (Xi Zi Xu) who wrote Kaleidoscope of Death!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

This book is set in the normal, regular, law-abiding modern city world where fengshui is heavily believed in, and skilled masters can see spirits, bad energies. Where dogs can be reincarnated as humans, and there are demonic pets that humans can keep, and paper dolls can come to life basically.

Zhou Jia Yu is a government office worker who dies in a car accident one day, and wakes up in the body of another Zhou Jia Yu - a handsome man whose name is the same as his. He’s brought back by this spirit bird in his head called Ji Ba (pun not intended), who says that Zhou Jia Yu is fated to save Lin Zhu Shui, the young, blind fengshui master who has caught him.

Unfortunately, this second Zhou Jia Yu is a con-artist who has cheated the money of several families via fraudulent fengshui schemes, and his scams have led to the death of several children in the process. Legendary fengshui master Lin Zhu Shui and his disciples have caught/imprisoned this Zhou Jia Yu, not knowing that original conman Zhou Jia Yu has died (and therefore his soul is gone), leaving good citizen Zhou Jia Yu in the body of a conman.

Lin Zhu Shui intends to kill conman Zhou Jia Yu (not really kill, kill but probably will do something to his soul, considering there are laws against murder you know) when good citizen Zhou Jia Yu wakes up in this body, but because he has come back from the dead, his body and soul is considered an extremely yin (cold) body, which allows him to attract more bad spirits and energy, giving him an extraordinary, gifted ability to excel in the fengshui line. Of course, being the master that he is, Lin Zhu Shui also realizes that this Zhou Jia Yu (and his soul, in particular) is not the one he caught, and as he has an extremely yang (hot) body, the both of them are compatible with each other. Lin Zhuo Shui realizes that he can train Zho Jia Yu and then takes him on as his disciple.

Cue Zhou Jia Yu being tossed into a dangerous fengshui competition as he figures out just what Ji Ba wants him to do about Lin Zhu Shui. In the meanwhile, he falls in love with amazingly handsome, cool and aloof Lin Zhu Shui (who threatens to murder him if he doesn’t come out first in the competition), who keeps him warm when he gets unbearably cold due to his body condition. They also have to deal with an evil person working behind the scenes, and how Zhou Jia Yu eventually returns back into his own body at the end.

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - Dec 2020 Print | Novel Translations

Characters:

1. 周嘉鱼 Zhou Jia Yu (third from right) - A really cute government office worker whose soul was pulled into a conman’s body, who has the same name as he, when he got into a car accident. Has an extremely yin (cold) body which attracts spirits (good and bad), and allows him to see, smell or hear them more clearly than everyone else except for Lin Zhu Shui. He cooks extremely well too and is considered a treasure in the household by Lin Zhu Shui’s other disciples because none of them can cook for shit. They don’t initially know that this Zhou Jia Yu is not conman Zhou Jia Yu, although they suspect it, and once they fall in love with his cooking no one doubts him anymore HAHAHA.

He gets a feng shui tattoo personally done by Lin Zhu Shui who already knows that his soul was switched, a tattoo which is supposed to help him in feng shui matters. Gets a paper doll son halfway through the story, who he calls Xiao Zhi (little paper), which calls him Dad (and calls Lin Zhu Shui Big Dad - da baba) ;-; It’s the cutest shit ever.

There’s a mystical creature in the back of his head that speaks to him and helps him out on certain feng shui things, and helps him to explain what he’s seeing, but aside from telling Jia Yu that he’s supposed to save Lin Zhu Shui, the mystical bird thing is unable to tell him anything else. Within a few weeks of him waking up in this body, he’s sent by Lin Zhu Shui on an international feng shui competition without having any sort of basic knowledge, only innate talent, much to his panic XD As Lin Zhu Shui continues to protect him, teach him and tease/smile at him, Jia Yu, who is certified gay af, falls totally in love with the seemingly aloof and strict feng shui master.

They probably would have continued like this if not for Jia Yu’s body deteriorating because his body is technically not his and not compatible with his soul, and Lin Zhu Shui tries to find a way to save him, after seeing the future where Jia Yu’s body is rotting as he dies slowly over months and begging Lin Zhu Shui to kill him and let him die.

2. 林逐水 Lin Zhu Shui (third from left, right next to Jia Yu) - Long-haired, wears changshan perpetually and is blind, but can see more clearly than most people. He knows where everyone’s positions are exactly, and can see spirits etc. very well despite being blind. Considered a genius of the feng shui world and is the patriarch of one of the big feng shui families in the world - the Lin family. He’s a master at drawing talismans, carving crystals/gems and feng shui tattooing.

He’s so well-known that everyone wants to be his disciple, everyone wants to get a talisman/crystal/tattoo from him, everyone wants him to come and look at their houses, but he can’t be bothered with most people. He’s also super handsome? So a lot of girls (and guys) are always drooling over him.

He has an extremely yang (hot) body, which is supposed to naturally help to repel spirits and what not, but because of this he suffers a lot in the summer. His body condition is very rare and when he was younger, others said he would not live past 18 years old, and his parents gave up their lives to change his fate so he would survive. The feng shui master also predicted that Lin Zhu Shui would experience another calamity when he was 30 (thereabout), and that year, thankfully he has Jia Yu as his entire house caught on fire in the summer while he was in it (and cooling talismans and the house item placements meant to keep the house entirely cool in the summer were no longer working). Jia Yu helped him to cool down with his incredibly yin body.

Knows right off the bat that this is a different Jia Yu, and starts teaching him as one of his disciples. Can only eat the food hat Jia Yu cooks because his yin qualities transfer to the food he cooks as well, and Lin Zhu Shui usually cannot eat anything else that’s cooked outside. Gives Jia Yu a carved jade pendant he made himself that’s apparently worth thousands of dollars to keep him safe, and is a dumbass when it comes to confessing to Jia Yu hahahaha (although he’s successful at the end!)

3. 沈一穷 Shen Yi Qiong (second from right, dark skin tone) - Lin Zhu Shui’s youngest disciple and also Jia Yu’s best friend, technically. Brash but smart, and is always thirsting openly after his shifu Lin Zhu Shui, it’s hilarious! He’s a little jealous in the beginning because his shifu is showering Jia Yu with so much attention when he’s only been around for a week etc., but quickly gets used to it and supports Jia Yu. Jia Yu always makes fun of his tanned skin, then makes fun of his singlehood HAHA, while Shen Yi Qiong provides emotional support to Jia Yu, and by emotional support I mean when Jia Yu asks him what will happen to him if he loses the feng shui competition, Shen Yi Qiong pats him on the shoulder and asks him to choose a vase/pot pattern (like a ceramic pot where you put cremated ashes) = shifu will kill him if he loses the competition, so gets Jia Yu to choose a pot he likes so Shen Yi Qiong can help him put his ashes in HAHAHAHA. He is the last one to find a significant other, but the one he finds is like a legendary mystical creature who half deceives him into promising to marry him and then keeps chasing after Shen Yi Qiong so he can marry him XD

4. 林珏 Lin Jue (first from left) - Lin Zhu Shui’s cousin but technically his older sister because she brought him up after his parents died. Spends most of the novel being sad about her past lover who died because of an illness, and is wooed a few years later by a legendary golden dragon.

5. 小纸 Xiao Zhi (that little cute white thing on top of Jia Yu’s head) - A paper doll who’s given to Jia Yu after he helps out at the paper doll village/tribe, and grows up with Jia Yu and Lin Zhu Shui taking care of him. Is the cutest little shit ever, can speak, and calls Jia Yu ‘baba’ and Lin Zhu Shui ‘da baba’ i.e. dad and big dad. Very strong, and can protect Jia Yu very well.

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

Jia Yu basically goes to the feng shui competition and destroys everyone else because he’s just gifted in this aspect - When he wakes up, and in the days leading up to the competition, he doesn’t have a cellphone (Lin Zhu Shui and his disciples live in a remote part of town, a traditional-type house, one with nature) and after he wins the competition, other people want his phone number to contact him and he’s too embarrassed to say that he’s basically too poor to have a phone after rising from the dead, so he bluffs everyone and says “My shifu says that handphone signals and radiation will interfere with advanced feng shui readings so I don’t have one” and LITERALLY half of the feng shui training population gets rid of their phones on that day, gullible af

Everytime Jia Yu runs cold, he has to drink some of Lin Zhu Shui’s blood mixed with water/milk, and the man’s yang blood warms him up immediately

Jia Yu has to deal with four of Lin Zhu Shui’s disciples, all who are really suspicious of him because they think he’s the conman, and Jia Yu doesn’t realize they already know it’s not him until they defend him in front of other people, and he’s so touched

Shen Yi Qiong gets his marriage fortune told during one of the cases by accident. He asks when he’ll get married, and the thing replies “Seven Three” AND HE’S SO DEPRESSED BECAUSE he thinks that it means he’ll only get married when he’s 73. It’s a source of jokes between him, his other shixiongs and Jia Yu, but then towards the end he realizes what it means - His supposed match, a legendary mystical male weasel who’s 73 years old XD

Jia Yu keeps thirsting after Lin Zhu Shui, fully aware that he’s very gay himself, and he’s confessed to while he’s stuck in the haze of a high fever, so he thinks it’s a dream. Lin Zhu Shui doesn’t realize he forgot/thinks it’s a dream and is pissed that he’s rejected HAHAHA and then Lin Jue reminds him to not be a dumbass and confess properly, and so he does so again in an empty amusement park, after summoning evil spirits so they can fly in the air and make a heart shape just for Jia Yu while they’re on the ferris wheel XDDDD

#danmei #danmei recs #我五行缺你 #my five elements lack you #my five elements is short of you #西子绪 #xi zi xu #min's why you should read

98 notes · View notes

chrminseok · 3 years

Photo

hey everyone, i’m may ( 21+, gmt+1 ), now officially presenting you with hyun minseok!! ( rip chanmi you will be missed ... ) you already know how it goes; all the important information can be found under the cut! if you would like to plot a lil’ somethin’ between our muses, please don’t hesitate to send me a message. ♡ i also have discord if that’s easier for you ( tbh i’m a lot faster on there ngl ), so feel free to ask me for my user! but if you’re more on the shy side, just like this post and i will come bother you instead. ^-^ | discord: 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢 ♡#5763

important links: biography. | full stats. | wanted connections.

basic stats !!

legal name: hyun minseok. official date of birth: october 31, 1995. actual date of birth: october 31, 1996. age: twenty-five / twenty-four. zodiac sign: scorpio ( western ) // rat ( chinese ) language(s): korean, japanese, english. orientation: no label. hometown: seoul, south korea. occupation: university student, political science. secret: his father faked legal documents in order to make him older and be the successor instead of his half sister and he opened up a non-profit nursing home but uses it mainly for money laundering and tax evasion.

personality !!

positive: quick-witted, charismatic, ambitious & assertive. negative: dishonest, tactless, disloyal & detached. reputation: known for being a kind-hearted person who always puts other people’s needs first, especially praised for founding a non-profit organisation. often said to be the perfect future politician; perceived as a smooth talker and easy-going. often used as an ideal example by parents of younger kids. mbti: entj. temperament: sanguine.

brief backstory !!

❥ he used to be known as the classic happy-go-lucky little kid that always put everyone first and his own needs last. it’s what everyone knew him as and he was genuinely kind until he got into high school. with his father being a famous politician who wanted him to be his successor, minseok was forced to be more self-serving. ❥ as his high school life progressed and he noticed that his kindness only let him get trampled on by other people, he actively decided to change his ways and started to idolise his father who has always been the opposite of him. ❥ minseok made sure that nobody noticed though; he would still act the same way around everyone, pretending to be the same kid he’s always been. a few people might have caught on, but mostly everyone remained clueless for the duration of his high school career. ❥ when he got out of school and left for university was when it was getting difficult to keep the nice act going, since he had just changed so much over the years. his father was adamant about him keeping his flawless reputation which is why minseok slowly distanced himself from his old school friends, blaming it on university work. instead, he built up a network of people who wre just as deceiful and selfish as himself. ❥ as soon as he got the funds, he opened up a non-profit nursing home, once again making headlines and building up his already perfect reputation as the golden son. people were praising him left and right, though what they don’t know is that it’s just a money laundering scheme.

headcanons !!

❥ he is extremely greedy, though still doesn’t refrain from bribing people whenever the need arises. spending money on people to keep them quiet is a favourable tactic of his, even when it comes to his own friends. ❥ he has absolutely no issues pretending to be someone else around people and only very rarely slips up. he’s just gotten used to it at this point. ❥ he is excellent at reading other people and has a good intuition. ❥ even though he is not the best person, he’s not downright evil; a little part of the philanthropist act put on for the public is real, as his old persona has never fully left him. there are certain times when his old self shines through, especially in situations where one of his friends need help or guidance. ❥ with that being said, he struggles to make actual friends who he can show his true colours to, since it’s hard to tell who he can be genuine with. typically shying away from forming close bonds with unreliable people, minseok goes for people that are similar to himself; with a few exceptions.

#chrintro

7 notes · View notes

anonniemousefics · 4 years

Text

Wildfire

Originally posted on Ao3

Fandoms: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 5,566

****Rating: NSFW (aged-up characters) -- It’s good and smutty.****

This belongs in The Trouble With Wanting series, best read after These Damn Crosswinds.

TW for mentions of PTSD, sexual trauma. And also a cliffhanger, but only kinda. The rest is on Ao3 if you really can’t wait. I’m just slow at migrating this stuff over.

Synopsis: The morning after a difficult first night in Kaz's bed brings a number of surprises, both good and terrible.

Inej Ghafa lived for the moments when she could see something entirely new. It was the sea captain in her, the song of her soul that called to new horizons.

So it was a salve to her aching soul that morning to wake up first, to look across the great expanse of white sheets on Kaz Brekker’s enormous new bed, and see him sleeping peacefully there. She’d never seen this side of him before, looking so boyish, lying on his stomach, one cheek smooshed into the pillow. His dark hair was mussed across his forehead, and he was so still, she resisted the urge to lay a hand on his back muscles to check on him. But she knew better than to startle him with a brush of bare skin in the morning.

Instead, she rolled onto her back, drawing in a deep breath into her heartsick chest while she stared up at the newly-vaulted ceilings of Kaz’s renovated Slat. Her head throbbed as if she was hungover. She wiped a hand over her sandy eyelashes, a first attempt to wipe away the debris of a freshly opened wound.

She’d fallen asleep on top of the blankets, fully clothed, like a crazy woman. She rather wished she hadn’t. The bed was irresistibly comfortable, as evidenced by Kaz’s rare deep slumber, and it was big enough that she had been able to sleep so far from his body warmth that she may as well have slept alone. She wished she hadn’t needed that, too.

She wished a lot of things. This was not how she’d wanted to spend her first night in Kaz’s bed.

No one else would have noticed how excited Kaz was to show her the changes to The Slat, but Inej could see it, no matter how hard he tried to play it cool. She saw it in the way he bit the inside of his lip to hold back his smile, saw the light in his coffee-black eyes, the crooked quirk in his dark eyebrows. Kaz Brekker was happy. Whatever he’d done to The Slat had brought back a little spring in his step.

He had a newspaper slung under one arm as he rattled the skeleton key in the door’s lock. She jabbed at it, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is your new spider really this bad?” she joked. “You’re having to buy papers like everyone else on the streets?”

She expected him to snark back, maybe tease her about spying for him again, but, instead, there was an almost imperceptible tension that arose. His jaw tightened. He swallowed a moment.

“Suspected firepox case was reported last night. It’s not right to send a spider out to confirm.” He said it as casually as if he was commenting on the weather, but Inej was already grabbing the paper from under his arm.

There was nothing the Kerch feared more than firepox. Highly contagious disease was the one thing their money couldn’t buy their way out of. And, of all rich Kerch men, Kaz had reason to fear it the most. No one else in Ketterdam knew its horrors like quite like Kaz.

Sure enough, the headlines plastering the Ketterdam Ledger above the fold were all about a single patient being quarantined in the capital’s hospital. Every word attempted to soothe rattled citizens that their mediks had the situation under control. There were no plans to sound the alarms yet.

And this is what she was gazing over when the sketch of a familiar face caught her eye and immediately froze her insides. They had stepped into The Slat, smelling of fresh wood floors and new paint, and somewhere in her, she knew she ought to have been looking it over, letting Kaz guide her through this grand unveiling, but now she was caught. She couldn’t look away from the horrible newsprint in front of her.

“Inej?” Kaz’s voice sounded like it was underwater. The perimeter of her vision grew fuzzy and grey, a tunnel surrounding the words on the page.

The headlines were calling the man the Butcher of the Barrel, and she would have known his face anywhere, even though Tante Heleen had never told her the names of her clients. The girls all grew quiet when he came to call, trying to press themselves into the darkness to avoid his gaze. He liked it when girls cried.

Now that seemed to be the least evil aspect of him.

Inej was looking over the names of the victims and didn’t feel her knees start to give out.

“Inej!” Kaz caught her by the forearms before she went down, holding her to his body. “Inej, what is it?”

She thrust a shaking arm at him, pushing the newspaper back into his hands. Sweat prickled across her forehead as she stepped back, her mind a whirl of suddenly vivid memories. She wrapped her arms around herself while Kaz looked over the headlines.

“This one?” he asked, holding up the sketch. “This murderer the Stadwatch arrested?”

Inej could only nod. She could smell the man’s foul scent even now, cheap ale and sausages and kitchen grease. She could feel his rough, thick hands against her bones, the ache of bruises he left behind. His slick, wet tongue in her ear, hissing the name Tante Heleen had given her. “Little Lynx. Are you going to cry, little Lynx?”

Kaz was folding up the paper, tossing it to his desk. His eyes had darkened, his lips pursed tight.

“I can take care of this.” From the low gravel in his voice, Inej knew he understood. At least half of it.

“Kaz.” Saints, was that her voice? She sounded like a small girl. “The murders he’s been charged with. The three girls.”

Kaz flicked a hard gaze her direction, already scheming.

“Lena. Nadya. Mayu. I knew them each, before they disappeared. They were all…” Why was her voice failing her so badly?

“The Menagerie,” Kaz said for her, and Inej nodded. Her chest felt tight, and she tried to draw in a breath.

“He picked his victims from The Menagerie, Kaz,” she choked. “I saw him there. He was--” She couldn’t say it. As much as she hated the memories, she hated even more for Kaz to remember what she had done there. Hot tears were coming fast now. “It could have been me. I could have--”

Kaz was rummaging through his desk drawer, dumping ammunition out across his desktop.

“Kaz.” She tried to make her voice sound stronger. “Kaz, stop.”

“You know this has to be done,” Kaz rasped. He barely glanced up as he loaded his revolver.

She did know. Men like this paid for the best lawyers, bribed judges, negotiated light sentences. Men like this blamed girls, claimed self-defense or accidents or amnesia, any absurdity but their own evil. Men like this deserved to bleed.

“Kaz,” she still chided.

“Do not ask me to be a better man to this filth,” Kaz snapped, sharply. “I am not, and I won’t. You should be giving me names--”

“They never gave me their names.” Something new was rising in Inej as her head spun and her face burned. Something furious. And her voice rose. “And even if they did, these are my scores to settle. You have no right to their names. You have no right to rob me of my justice.”

“They touched you.” Kaz’s face flushed a livid red, the sinew in his neck visible when he yelled. “They touched my--” But he stopped himself, mouth twitching. He planted his clenched fists on his desk as Inej glared at him, daring him to finish. “This is personal,” was all he said when he picked up his gun again.

This man. This infuriating man. One minute she loved him, the next minute she was ready to strangle him. How could he simultaneously be so clever and yet so stupid?

“It is not your score to settle,” Inej said, firmly, and then as he slipped the revolver in his pocket, she grew desperate. “If you leave tonight and deny me this, Kaz Brekker, I will never forgive you.”

Kaz’s glare was flint and steel when he froze, but she kept herself standing tall and firm. Finally, after what felt like ages inside a moment, he huffed a relinquishing sigh.

“What is it you want.” It didn’t come out as a question, and Inej felt raw from the entire exchange.

What did she want? She couldn’t say. Moments that had once felt long forgotten now crawled across her skin and licked at her ear. She felt small and helpless, a feeling she had worked for years to never feel again. She thought of the three girls, of Lena and Nadya and Mayu, and how they had cowered in fear of this butcher just as she had, how small and helpless they had been, too. How that was the last of this world they had known. She wanted to remember them differently. She wanted to rewrite their ending. She wanted moments they would all never have, moments killing this man tonight would never bring.

And Kaz stood, waiting with his jaw tight, oblivious and belligerent, and Inej felt the tears sting her eyes. It took only a moment for Kaz to become the unfortunate lightning rod for the storm brewing inside of her.

“You have the emotional intelligence of a bearded goat,” she seethed at him, her voice trembling, and she swore in Suli and crawled into bed.

“Why a bearded goat?” Kaz was the first to break the silence of the early morning. The gentle burr of his voice was thick and rumbly from sleep. When Inej looked at him, feeling considerably more tender than the night before, he still hadn’t opened his eyes, his bare arms shoved under his pillow.

“They have dumb faces,” Inej said.

“Because of the beard?” Kaz lifted his dark eyebrows, his sleep-swollen eyes still shut.

“Mhmm.”

“Got it.”

She watched him stretch and roll onto his back, groaning as joints in his bad leg cracked and complained. To his credit, he had not tried to fight further the night before. She wouldn’t have had the energy to anyway. The onslaught of visceral memories from The Menagerie had overwhelmed her completely, and her eyes had leaked silent tears while she waited for sleep’s escape. She’d been vaguely aware that Kaz had lain next to her, but she’d wanted nothing from him. At some point, they had both fallen asleep.

“Thank you for staying,” Inej said, in the light of the dawn. Kaz scrubbed his hands over his face with a deep sigh. He was rolling out his bad ankle in slow, painful circles beneath the white sheets.

“You were right,” he rasped after a moment, looking over the pillows at her and Inej blinked in surprise. The bed was enormous; he suddenly seemed so far away.

“I want that in writing,” Inej said, narrowing her eyes, and Kaz quirked a tired smirk as he rolled over on his side to face her. Inej felt drawn to the warmth in his sleepy, coffee-black eyes, the paradox of the delicate lashes that framed them.

“The thought of what they did to you,” he said, his voice tight, “that anyone could do that to you – I just --” He pushed his hair off his forehead as he scrambled for words. Inej found herself staring at the swell of his bicep. “I know it’s your score to settle. I know it’s your battle to fight. But I hate myself for not seeing you sooner. For not sparing you this. I’ve tried for years to make it right--”

“There is nothing in this for you to make right,” Inej interrupted. “We were kids.” She rolled to her side to face him.

“I was perfectly capable of ripping out throats then,” Kaz countered. “I was too blinded by revenge to see what was happening to you.”

“Is there nothing on this earth you won’t blame yourself for? You are not responsible for their choices, Kaz, nor should you be held responsible for stopping them. You were fifteen--”

“I was old enough to see what you were light and magic and everything good in the world. I was old enough to fall in love with you.” His words caught her breath in her throat. He’d put down his armor before, but never quite like this. “I was old enough to avenge you, too.”

“Kaz…” she breathed, and stretched out a hand across the expanse of bed between them. His expression still weighed heavy as he entwined their fingers, looking over her dark hand in his pale one.

“Do you know what I thought the moment I first saw you?” he asked, venturing a glance in her direction. Inej shook her head as she tucked one arm under her pillow.

“I thought to myself, ‘This girl could have killed me just now,’” Kaz went on, without a trace of jest. “Animals that are caged go one of two ways. They either end up lying in a corner and hiding from everything, or they start to rage and lash out and bite and tear at any hand that gets near them. And I saw that rage in you, and I knew I couldn’t risk you falling to the Dime Lions. I knew I needed you on my side.”

“So, it wasn’t love at first sight, is what you’re telling me.” Inej raised a wary eyebrow.

“I’m telling you that what happened to those girls could never have happened to you,” Kaz said. “I told you that you were dangerous, and I have always meant it. I’m willing to bet the butcher knew it, too. That’s…that’s all I should have said last night.”

Inej ran her thumb over his scarred knuckles, looking over their laced fingers and the weight of memories they both held. There was a time when she would have rushed right out for first blood. But there was something more valuable, she was learning, in the space she took to grieve, to lay down her armor, to share the burden with the one who loved her. And he had proved, yet again, it was not too much to bear.

The time for blood would come. For now, all she wanted was Kaz.

“I sound like someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with,” she teased.

“Yes, well,” Kaz gave her that irresistible smirk, “I don’t claim to have the soundest judgment in that area.”

“And my house has far too much glass for me to be throwing stones,” Inej said with a wink, toying with his fingers in hers til he grinned.

“Come here and kiss me,” he begged.

“Say ‘please.’” She pressed back a smile.

“Inej, my darling,” Kaz began to edge closer to her, the covers sliding across his bare torso, “treasure of my heart, love of my life,” and he tucked one arm under her pillow, leaning next to her as she smiled up at him, “for gods’ sake, please kiss me already.”

And Inej took his face in her hands and pulled him down to her, a kiss wholly unlike any she’d felt yet. Perhaps it was the words he’d said that gave the kiss its sweetness. Or the sincerity in his dark eyes that give it its fire. Whatever was to blame, Inej found herself turning towards him to match his fervor, her body like a magnet pulled toward his. He ran one hand along her rib cage, and his fingertips brushed against her midriff as her top slid upward. Saints, those lockpick fingers. If the Saints had ever known the tenderness of a thief’s hands, they would never have declared them sinners.

She sighed against his mouth as Kaz ran gentle fingertips up her spine, beneath her shirt. From the crooked smirk she saw on his lips when she pulled back, she could tell he relished how she reacted, the cheeky bastard.

“Have I said I was sorry?” he murmured when their foreheads touched. His sly fingers were drawing lazy circles across her back, and each slow turn released achy tension she’d held inside of her since the moment she saw the butcher’s face in the paper.

“You have not,” she sighed, her eyes slipping closed.

A soft kiss against her forehead. Slow, steady circles across her shoulder blades.

“I am sorry,” he whispered. “Ghezen strike me dead if I ever rob you of your justice.”

“You don’t believe in Ghezen.”

“One of your Saints, then. Pick the baddest, meanest bloke. That one.”

“No.” Inej squirmed a little closer into his warmth, tucking her head into his neck.

“No?” She felt his voice rumble in his chest.

“No,” she repeated. “I like you too much to risk it.”

She could feel the smile on his cheek pressed against her hair, and she breathed in his scent, soap-clean and musky. Here, she was worlds away from the men who’d used her, the people who tried to destroy her. Her story would always contain their faces and their misdeeds. That was inescapable. But here, in Kaz’s hands, her story could take a new turn.

Here, physical intimacy was made of completely new sights, sensations, even scents. Here was her exception. Here it was different. Here she would always be safe.

She knew this deep in her bones, curled against him, his fingertips brushing against the smooth planes of her back. She could have stayed all day there. As it was, she lost track of how much time had passed. She simply closed her eyes and let him hold her.

But then, slowly, she felt his hand slide out of her shirt, linger at her hip for just a moment, before Kaz began to inch out from under her, toward the far-off edge of the bed. He must have thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Don’t go,” she said, reaching for his wrist.

“I have work, love,” and Kaz leaned over to kiss her lips once more. “You can come, too, if you want. Or stay. The bed’s for you as much as it is for me.”

But Inej wasn’t interested in taking no for an answer. They’d wasted their whole first evening in the newly renovated Slat because of some stupid newspaper. All she could see now was the boy who’d loved her for ages, the man she’d been counting down the days to hold again.

“You’re a Barrel boss. Show up when you want.” She tugged playfully at the loose waistband of his sleeping trousers, and added, as if her mouth suddenly had a mind of its own: “Work on me instead.”

Kaz’s dark eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline as she pulled again at his trousers, a teasing smirk on her kiss-swollen lips.

“Fucking hell, Inej,” he swore, but he wasn’t putting up much of a fight. She stifled a chuckle when she pushed herself upright. She took his face in one hand and pulled him down to her again. The unshaven stubble on his jawline was rough against her palm, but his mouth was as soft as her dreams of him at sea. He gave a relinquishing sigh against her lips as she moved her hands to his hair, raking her fingernails against his scalp. She could feel his body giving in, growing as careless as she was about the time, his hands sliding over her hip bones as she pulled him up against her body again.

And, for the first time, she wanted his body over hers, to feel engulfed against his solid muscles, to be his entirely. Her exception. Her haven. She ran her hands over his wide shoulders, down the slopes of his back muscles, and pulled his waist toward hers.

“Leg.” Kaz pulled back with a sharp wince and a grunt, as he tried to shift his body so his bad leg wouldn’t bear his weight.

“Sorry!” Inej was instantly apologetic. “Damn, this makes me the bearded goat now.”

Kaz huffed a strained laugh as he shifted between her legs, bracing himself with his arms over her while he tried to find a comfortable balance. And Inej found herself staring at the corded muscle in his arms, the tattoos on his forearm and bicep, the hard planes down his chest and torso, and she was seized with the need to know if the rest of him could feel as wonderful as his hands against the rest of her.

And while he was still adjusting his weight, she quickly, without much thought at all, crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and pulled it off over her head. The cotton sheets felt smooth and cool beneath her bare back.

Kaz froze, wide-eyed in surprise. That would never get old.

“Is this all right for your leg?” Inej asked beneath him.

“What?” Kaz looked mesmerized. “I don’t know, maybe, it’s fine.”

And Inej laughed as he eagerly lowered himself onto his elbows, and she thought she heard his breath catch when her breasts pressed against his bare chest. She let her hands explore the smooth skin across the breadth of his back while he buried his face in her neck, kissing her throat, her collarbone, nipping at her earlobe. His breath was warm against her ear, sending shivers dancing down her spine.

When he ran one hand over her rib cage, to softly cup underneath her breast, Inej gripped at his waist with her thighs, desperate only to feel closer to him. No one had ever felt like this against her, but then, she’d never wanted someone so completely. No one had ever taken so much time and care to unlock her secrets, to know what she craved.

“I love you,” she whispered. It leapt from her lips like it had been cut free.

When Kaz pulled back when he’d heard it, his dark hair had fallen in his eyes, his sharp cheekbones flushed. And he kissed her fiercely, cupping her cheek, parting her lips gently with his tongue.

“I love you,” he told her when they each took a breath, and Inej couldn’t help smiling while he kissed her again. “I always have. I always will.”

Inej’s heart was soaring, slamming against her rib cage, as she melted beneath his lips. She nipped at his bottom lip and let him flick his tongue against hers while his hands roamed freely across her body, her breasts, her waist, the underside of her thighs, like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t decide where to land. And Inej’s breath grew ragged – how many nights at sea had she imagined having his hands on her like this? Desire spread like wildfire through her veins, pooling between her legs as she rolled her hips against his.

At the movement, he shot her a surprised glance, his breath shallow, his swollen lips parted. So, she did it again, a silent reassurance that she was with him, that she wasn’t vanishing. That she wanted. And when he moved to repeat her motion, a little stiff and awkward at first while he delicately tried to keep weight off his bad leg, she felt the hard press of his full erection against her center, rubbing just right against her, and she drew in a breath, welcoming the small rush of pleasure.

She slid her hands down to the hard muscle near the base of his spine, pressing him against her again, grinding up against his hardness so that he groaned in the back of his throat when his lips brushed her neck again.

A year ago, she’d only wished the ghosts of her pasts could be so efficiently exorcised. Now, the haunts of the previous night lived where they belonged – in the past. Now, there was only the man she loved, who loved her, and the all-encompassing longing that overtook her mind, her heart, her body. She wanted every inch of him, anything he could give her.

He was pushing himself up off her body, to put more weight against his hard cock as it rubbed against her folds through her trousers, and she slid her fingers down over his tense abdomen, hungry for more of him. She skimmed over his thin trail of jet-black hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers, before hooking her thumbs in the fabric and giving a little tug.

A question. A request. A silent plea.

Kaz stopped and looked over her face, panting even as he examined her expression.

“Are you sure?” His brow was furrowed. How many times had new territory only unleashed new demons? She both loved and regretted his careful consideration.

She bit her lip as she nodded. He had stoked the fire in her, and now it raged, desperate, unquenchable. It was worth the risk. And, as if to up the ante and force his hand, she slipped her fingers into her own trousers and began to slide them off.

“Let’s just try.” Her whisper was laced with lust.

“Try,” Kaz echoed. He pushed himself to one side of her as she removed her trousers, lying bare beside him. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as she did, taking in how nervous he was. Hoping she wasn’t pushing them too far.

But then again, they had survived every disappointment, every setback so far. This was who they were. They never stopped fighting.

And this was one battle she had never felt so desperate to fight.

“Is this all right?” she checked. She would always check.

This time, though, Kaz released a tense puff of air.

“You’re asking me?” His brows cinched together in disbelief. “You do remember you called me a bearded goat not even twelve bells ago?”

“And you called me an investment once, and yet, here we are.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“…shit. Inej, you have terrible taste in men.”

“Fine, then, I’ll put my clothes back on.”

“Counter offer,” Kaz interjected, desperately pulling her close to his body once more as she grinned, “I settle the debt. I make it up to you.”

“Interesting.” This ridiculous man. As if he had anything to make up to her. But she did enjoy his games. “I’ll hear your proposal, Brekker.”

Instead, he bent his head to kiss the base of her throat, to brush his lips over her sternum as her gently stroked one of her nipples with a thumb. Her face felt hot as she drew in a breath, and he glanced up with a mischievous smirk as he slowly shifted his body over hers again. And he began to trail slow, methodical kisses down her body: over her breasts, down to her navel, stroking her waist, her hips as he moved down back between her legs.

She found she was holding her breath in anticipation as he ran his long fingers through the spangle of soft curls over her cunt, his dark eyes always watching her, calculating and careful. He bent his head to gently kiss the soft, tender skin on the inside of her thighs, and she propped herself up on her elbows, in fascination. His kisses up her legs were as soft as a bird’s wing, barely there and yet all she could feel.

And then she gasped in spite of herself, her eyes fluttering, as he left a slow, hot kiss against her clit.

“A decent offer?” Kaz rasped, and stroked the inside of her folds with the back of one finger.

“Saints, Kaz,” was all she could breathe, abandoning all pretense of wit. Kaz just chuckled as he pressed his lips back into against her clit.

She sighed, dropping from her elbows, flopping into the pillows, as Kaz wrapped his arms under her hips, his hands at her waist. His tongue worked in slow, gentle strokes up the strip of her folds, and she’d never even dared to hope a man could make her feel so good.

His breath was hot against her cunt as he gently sucked at her soft, wet lips, and it made her fingers twist in the white sheets. Suli curses were brimming on her tongue, and she bit her lip, the swirl of sensation and warmth and desire spiraling up through her body. And fuck, he had learned her quickly. She could sense his attention fixated on her, sense it in the way he changed pace, changed pressure, ever so slightly, every time her breath caught, her body writhed, her voice betrayed her. If this was how he would settle their debts from now on, she’d let him borrow from her every goddamn day.

He was driving her to the brink, and she would fall willingly, hard and fast. Her toes were curling as his mouth moved quickly over her pussy, and he brought one hand from her waist, and just as she was praying his fingers would work her like they had in the bathroom at the Geldrenner, he was pushing in one finger and then two, caressing her ridges while his tongue stroked against her clit.

The curses she’d been holding back where no match for it. Her whole body was taut, barely containing the tension and the flames he fanned. Her back arched; she swore loud enough, she worried people on the streets below would hear. And soon after a wave of intense pleasure exploded from her core, rattling up her spine, sending her whole body quaking beneath his hands.

Her heart raced underneath her palm as she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t realized she’d broken a sweat. When she opened her eyes again, Kaz had worked his way back up beside her on the bed, with a smug look on his face.

“You bastard,” she panted, poking him in the chest.

“Excuse you,” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not sorry.” She heaved a deep, satisfied sigh. “If this is how you make up, I’m going to fight you every day.”

And Kaz gave a chuckle, leaning down to kiss her.

“Your turn,” she said when he sat back, and his grin grew wider as he fumbled with the drawstring on his waistband.

But then, the alarm bells began to sound.

The actual fucking alarm bells.

Inej was toying with his trousers, slipping her fingers beneath the fabric over his hip bones, when the peal of bells broke through the dawn air, echoing through the streets of Ketterdam. And she stopped, cocking her head to one side, as she looked up at Kaz.

“Is that--?” she started, but from the way the color drained from his face, she didn’t need to ask more.

Ketterdam had built these bells for one purpose, for the Kerch’s worst nightmare: the plague. The Dregs had used this to their advantage once before, a false epidemic to stage an escape. But this wasn’t fake.

Kaz had leapt from the bed to limp to the window as Inej began hurriedly pulling on her trousers. Now she was recalling the other headlines she’d forgotten from the night before, emblazoned over the top half of the Ketterdam Ledger.

Firepox.

The necrotic infection moved faster and killed quicker than any butcher that lurked these streets. Its body count was higher than any Barrel boss’. Kaz still fought the ghosts of its victims, all these years later.

Inej was pulling her shirt back over her head as Kaz leaned out the open window. Shouting and hurried footsteps over cobblestones echoed up from the streets. Mediks and Stadwatch were cordoning off every block, quarantining everyone in their homes.

“What are you doing?” Kaz had turned back to her as Inej laced up her boots, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I have to get back to my ship,” she replied, “before they seal off the harbor.”

“It’s already too late.” There was something oddly hollow about Kaz’s voice. “The docks are the first thing they’ll close off. No one in, no one out.”

“I have to try,” Inej insisted. “My crew--”

“They will blow you out of the water before they allow a potentially infected ship out of these harbors,” Kaz snapped. “Don’t be a fool.”

“Then I have to make sure my crew is safe.”

“No one is safe, Inej. This isn’t some gang of thugs you can fight off--”

“Spare me your condescension; I know exactly what this is. That’s why I have to hurry.”

The legs of Kaz’s desk chair scraped against the floor as he sat down hard in it, wincing as he stretched out his bad leg. He closed his eyes tight as he gripped at his aching knee. She could only imagine how impossibly heavy this moment weighed on him, but she was a captain and she could not abandon her crew.

“Go.” His voice rasped hard like gravel. “Get as far away from here as you can.”

Inej crossed to him and reached out to hold his face, but he jerked his head away at the last moment.

“I love you,” she repeated, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I will not be gone long. We will pick up where we left off.”

He hadn’t moved when she jumped up on the windowsill. She gave him one quick glance over her shoulder, knowing she would be back in only a few hours, before slipping out over the rooftops.

Read the conclusion here: Stars In The Darkness

#six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #kanej #kanej fanfic #kanej smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #kaz brekker x inej ghafa

104 notes · View notes

komahinasecretexchange · 4 years

Text

Title: School Unity Club

Author: @thatsrightdollface

For: @bebexox4

Pairings/Characters: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, with appearances by both Chiaki Nanami and Kokichi Oma. Others mentioned.

Rating/Warnings: T. Some mention of self-deprecating thought might be a relevant warning. There is also occasional swearing.

Prompt: Non despair hopes peak au with Enemies-Friends-Lovers komahina

Author’s notes: Hi there!!! Happy Komahina Secret Exchange, and I hope you enjoy your gifts!!! :D This is prompt one of two you can expect this time around. This was really fun to work on hehehe. Thank you!!!

1. Okay, Why Are We Starting a School Unity Club Again?

The first time Hope’s Peak Academy tried to recruit Nagito Komaeda, of course he turned them down: he was unworthy, he insisted, trying to laugh at himself, trying to raise his metaphorical palms in obvious surrender. I mean, come on. Hope’s Peak… haha, that was for genuinely amazing people. For the Ultimate Students, glimmering irrefutable beacons of hope to everybody else. They were — no. Nagito couldn’t go to school with people like that. Practically superheroes, so hardworking and disciplined and just everything Nagito knew he didn’t deserve to be. What would he even say? How would he know where to sit, or when to participate in class discussions, or how to tactfully say no when they felt obligated to invite him along places?

But, in the end, Hope’s Peak Academy hadn’t so much wanted Nagito as a student, he gathered, as they’d wanted to study his luck. Nagito’d always had unreasonable, relentless, mythically impossible luck. Amazing things happened to him, and then… like clockwork, like the gears of the universe churning away… equally devastating things inevitably followed. The Ultimate Lucky Student. That’s right. After years of fallen-apart loved ones and distant extended family members and snakes slithering out of his bathtub drain the second he realized “You know, I think this might be my favorite brand of shampoo,” Nagito Komaeda’s absurd luck was finally going to help somebody. Hope’s Peak could learn from his luck, and that was worth humiliating himself daily, stumbling around Ultimate Students, rambling and awestruck. That was worth knowing he’d never belong, because he hadn’t worked for his Talent. It wasn’t really a Talent at all.

When Nagito was happy, he knew he was sure to feel tears burning against the back of his eyes very soon. He was happy about the chance to attend Hope’s Peak, despite everything, despite knowing he should have turned the invitation down again, whether his luck could be useful or no… and so, of course, bad things followed. Bad things he hadn’t talked to his classmates about, yet, and probably never would. Because it wasn’t like Nagito had come to such a prestigious institution expecting anybody to actually care about him. It wasn’t like he would have clawed his way in without being invited. Right?

Nagito liked to think that was right, anyway, just the way he liked to think he didn’t actually want any of his fancy, impossible new classmates to contradict him when he described himself as worthless, a faceless background character in their lives. Why should they tell him he was more than a bystander? Nagito would hold the camera when his classmates wanted a group photo. That should be more than enough. If he wanted to get something done for their sake, he could lean on his Ultimate Luck. If he drew a lottery number, it would always win. If a car was careening out of control through the school grounds, it would be sure to hit him before it clobbered anyone else. A weird system — a horrible system, from some points of view — but it was the least Nagito could do. It was his so-called “Talent,” after all.

Maybe that was why the Reserve Course had never made a lot of sense, to Nagito. See, some people could pay a hell of a lot of extra tuition money and buy their way into Hope’s Peak… but not as Ultimates. It felt like a flashlight demanding to be called the sun, to Nagito. Like a puddle on the street insisting it was the ocean. If Ultimates really were “hope,” then how dare anybody scramble around to grab their spotlight away, right? Reserve Course attendants would probably be easier to get along with than the Ultimate Students, given that Nagito was more or less “one of them”… a nobody, a stranger, an intruder here in this place for gods. But he didn’t go looking for friends among the Reserve Course, either. Why should he want to be buddy-buddy with arrogant pretenders? It wasn’t like Nagito had ever felt especially good at talking to people, anyway. He’d probably say something wrong; he’d probably mess something up; he’d probably just get furious. Wouldn’t you want to turn off the flashlight that thought it was the sun?

Better not to delude yourself, even if the truth was ugly, full of shaky, simpering smiles and resignation. Happiness led to pain. Good luck led to misery. On and on and on, and Nagito had been fairly sure he’d graduate from Hope’s Peak without any of his classmates having memorized his full name. You know, if he lived that long.

That’s why it was all the more surprising when Chiaki Nanami… the Ultimate Gamer… kept insisting on talking to him. Of course, Chiaki was kind to their whole class. She had no reason to sit silently and play phone games with Nagito until his phone caught fire in his hands — she had no reason to chat about his favorite super-indie horror titles during breaks in schoolwork, coming over to stand by his desk on purpose. Chiaki wanted to understand everybody: she told Nagito as much, honestly. Chiaki wanted their whole class to be a team, and so when she asked Nagito to show up for movie nights he did. He knew he’d suffer the bad luck for it later, but he picked up the phone when Chiaki called him every time.

If she wanted to be friends with everyone, Chiaki shouldn’t have to work for the Ultimate Lucky Student’s friendship, obviously. He should be a shoe-in. And it wasn’t really that Nagito was having fun that kept him sticking around, probably. It wasn’t really that he was starting to banter with the Ultimate Mechanic and the Ultimate Gangster, as if they were actually… uh… friendly acquaintances, or something, either. Chiaki told him he was reliable, even if he still wouldn’t admit he belonged with the rest of them. Even if he said hurtful things sometimes and didn’t seem to realize it.

“What?!” Nagito had balked, then. “Have I insulted you? Oh, no. No, that’s unacceptable. For someone like me to speak badly of an Ultimate Student, even without meaning to —”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Chiaki had answered. She reminded Nagito of a cat, pretty consistently… heavy-lidded eyes, and a voice like a tail swishing slowly back and forth. She didn’t look up from the game system in her hands as she drawled at him. “You say horrible things about yourself, and about how you can’t understand why I’d want anything to do with you… makes me feel like you don’t think I can pick my own friends. I say I think you’re okay, and you spend the next half an hour telling me why that’s a stupid thing to think. Kazuichi says he’s glad you stopped by to help him work on that robot project he’s building, and you have to make him apologize for thinking ‘trash like you’ deserves to hang out with the Ultimate Mechanic at all.”

Nagito wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that. He’d cleared his throat.

“Your friends will hurt when they see you hurt, Nagito. I always heard people in games saying that, and now I know it’s true. Okay?”

“Hm. Okay… if you’re sure, as an Ultimate Student.”

“I’m sure as your friend Chiaki.”

“Interesting. I mean… yeah, I’ll do my best not to hurt you?”

Nagito had been watching the way he talked about himself around Chiaki Nanami for about a week before she came to him with a plan she’d been working on with the Ultimate Supreme Leader. Kokichi Oma was a couple years behind them, but he was always scheming like the “Spawn of Loki” the Ultimate Animal Breeder declared him to be — his latest plan involved trying to unite the two branches of their school, the Main Course and the Reserve Course, coming together for some sort of mysterious club. Chiaki was all for it, apparently, and Nagito had wanted to say a lot of things. He’d wanted to say it sounded like reassuring the puddle that ships could drown in it after all, and coral reefs were sure to grow. It felt false, and wrong. But a lot of things Kokichi Oma said felt “false and wrong,” and Nagito wanted to be Chiaki’s real, worthy friend so badly. He agreed to help, however he could.

“It’s so generous of the Ultimates to share their Talents with everybody!” Nagito said. That was a fair enough rationalization, wasn’t it? “You really are a commendable person, Ultimate Supreme Leader. Even if practically everything you say is a shameless lie!”

And, “Hey now, most of my nefarious criminal organization members wouldn’t be called ‘Ultimate,’ and they’ve got more talents to share around than this whole stuck-up school,” Kokichi answered, voice light and airy, like he wasn’t actually invested in the conversation… though his eyes said he really was, unless that expression was just another lie from him? Lies upon lies upon lies. People told Nagito he was confusing to talk to, but surely he couldn’t have anything on Kokichi Oma. Was that okay for him to think? “A lot of these titles we got assigned feel pretty arbitrary, if you ask me. And it’s ridiculous we’ve never actually met so many of our classmates!”

Nagito raised his eyebrows. “Classmates?”

Kokichi stared him down, smile practically painted on. “Classmates. Yeah. Just think of how many possible recruits for my organization might be waiting in the Reserve Course… ya think any of ‘em are interested in a life of evil?”

“Most of the people who made the games we play aren’t Ultimates, either,” Chiaki murmured, at Kokichi’s side. She was muted and dusky pink, with a tender, hesitant smile — Kokichi was so glaringly bright and loud next to her. They made a strange team, but of course no stranger than Nagito and anyone in the world. “Please, Nagito. The School Unity Club is going to try and form real friendships… I think it’s a chance for us to do something good, and to learn what it’s like to be in the Reserve Course.“

As if Nagito wanted to understand something like that! Haha! Oh, Chiaki. No.

But that’s what led Nagito here, to the first official School Unity Club meeting. He filled out the Getting to Know Everybody Questionnaire Kokichi and Chiaki passed out, and he hung around in the back of the room, hands folded in his pockets, face perfectly neutral, until a spiky haired Reserve Course guy came storming up to him. What could have possibly gotten this uppity loser so mad? Chiaki had decorated this classroom herself, specifically for trash like the both of them. They should be so grateful. There were streamers and everything.

“Are you Nagito Komaeda?” Mr. Pointy-Hair spat.

“I am. Nice to meet —”

“So you’re the one who wrote that people who joined the Reserve Course have ‘no good reason to be here’ on the questionnaire. Knowing we’d all read it — knowing how much we want to attend Hope’s Peak Academy —”

Nagito nodded, letting himself smile. Ah, okay. This was making a little sense now. “Excuse me, I think you misunderstand something,” he tried to clarify. “I don’t believe I have a good reason to be here, either… really, we’re almost the same, you and me. I probably have more to say to someone like you than my whole class!” Nagito paused. Glanced over at the Ultimate Gamer. “Except for Chiaki. Maybe. If she still thinks so.”

Mr. Pointy-Hair didn’t look reassured by Nagito’s explanation. If anything, his cheeks were flushed red, the fury creeping up to the tips of his ears, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He was a little shorter than Nagito, but he was standing as tall as he possibly could. “Someone like me?” he asked. It was a question, somehow, but what exactly did he expect Nagito to say? Mr. Pointy-Hair’s teeth were ground together, but there was something honest and wholesome about his mossy green eyes. Nagito might have wanted to ask his name, if he didn’t feel sure he was about to get yelled at. Why weren’t they understanding each other, exactly, here?

“You’re not an Ultimate,” Nagito said, explaining something painfully simple. “This is a school for extraordinary people, and you and I are both unworthy of it. You see? But that shouldn’t be news to you…”

Mr. Pointy-Hair was spitting mad. Was he going to punch Nagito, next? Or simply tell him how awful he was? Nagito was bracing himself either way, but he shouldn’t have bothered. That was when Kokichi Oma’s spotlight found them, after all. That was when the Ultimate Supreme Leader — sauntering around on a stage made of pushed-together desks and using a super-chipper ringmaster voice — declared, “Oh! And what’s this? Mr. Komaeda and Mr. Hinata are already picking a fight! I think we just found some volunteers for a club project, guys!”

There was a scattering of polite, confused applause, and this Mr. Pointy-Hair Hinata spun around on his heel and threw himself out of the room. The door slammed, and his footsteps thudded away down the hall.

Nagito took a stumbling half-step after him. He didn’t mean to. This was the sort of pretender who thought he deserved to be an Ultimate without earning it, after all. There was no reason to wonder what their club project would be together, or if he’d ever learn Hinata’s first name. There was no reason to ask what the Ultimate Supreme Leader had in store for them to work on — there was probably no reason to assume he and Hinata would ever see each other again, or get another chance to try and have an actual conversation.

Nagito asked Kokichi what their assignment was, anyway.

1½. Talking to You’s Like Trying to Paint in the Rain

Hajime Hinata figured if he just never attended a School Unity Club meeting again, he could simmer for a while and then amble on like this never happened. Like he’d never met Nagito Komaeda, with his hazy dark eyes and drifting, shaky-yet-infuriatingly-resolute voice. If he never joined up with the club again, then he couldn’t be assigned any weird-ass “club projects,” could he? And since Nagito was part of the Main Course… an Ultimate, even if he’d tried to convince Hajime they were “the same,” or whatever… their paths wouldn’t necessarily cross, otherwise. They even had passing periods at different times, and if Hajime saw Nagito’s fluffy, flyaway white hair from across the hallway he just stopped in his tracks and stalked away.

But, I mean… that isn’t the end of the story, obviously. Hajime underestimated the Ultimate Supreme Leader, and also how ridiculous things could get at Hope’s Peak Academy. Sometimes, the place barely even felt real.

Hajime received the instructions for his and Nagito Komaeda’s club project midway through math class. The guy in front of him — who he’d known the whole year, mind you, and was definitely just some guy who liked comic books and was often a little late to class — turned around in his seat and stage-whispered, “Hey, Hinata, you wouldn’t happen to know the answer to question thirteen, would you?”

“There is no question thirteen,” Hajime answered. “The worksheet only goes to ten —” and then he actually looked up, to raise his eyebrows at his classmate and/or see if they had different worksheets for some reason. And well. Hm. Wouldn’t you know it, this wasn’t his classmate at all. This was very obviously Kokichi Oma from the Main Course in a wig. The Ultimate Supreme Leader was wearing a Reserve Course uniform with the tie knotted all sloppily, and he grinned like the damn Cheshire Cat as he handed over a big envelope with the words “This is not your School Unity Club project assignment!” scribbled on it.

“Oh! Nice eye,” Kokichi grinned. “Aren’t you a smart one.”

“I don’t want to work with Nagito Komaeda,” Hajime hissed. “And Kokichi, this isn’t your class.”

“Are you sure I’m not enrolled in the Reserve Course, too?”

“Ugh. Yes? And you’re two years behind me.”

Kokichi scratched at his forehead. Hajime thought maybe he was taunting him, intentionally fiddling with his wig so that a little of his flippy purple hair snuck out. “Nagito’s stubborn, isn’t he? Kind of like you.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Hajime said, but even as he spat those words he knew they weren’t completely true. Honestly, Hajime felt sick with guilt for getting his family to pay this ridiculous Hope’s Peak Reserve Course tuition — he’d tried to change his own mind, convincing himself it didn’t matter whether the world called him Special. The Ultimate Students were just people, he told himself. So what if nobody thought he was good enough to be one of them? He could still live a happy, normal life… he could still pour attention into the hobbies he loved, and spend time with the people he cared about, and maybe it was kind of a pain to have your face on convenience store magazines anyway.

Hajime told himself stuff like that over and over again, but it wasn’t like it stuck, you know? It didn’t change the tide of his thoughts. It felt like the minute he painted a nice, encouraging picture of an alternative to Hope’s Peak Academy for himself, it got washed away. Staring into Nagito’s serene, self-righteously knowing eyes had felt a little like that, too. Hajime got the feeling that he could talk to him and talk to him, but it was almost impossible to change this guy’s mind until he changed it himself.

It was infuriating, wasn’t it, talking to people like that?

“If you want to prove you’re really different than Nagito — you’re really not super-stubborn and impossible to reach — you can always just do the project,” the Ultimate Supreme Leader grinned. “Up to you. I told him to meet you by those big fountains after school, and I think he’s actually gonna do it. He asked what your first name was, too… I told him it was ‘Daisuke.’”

“But it isn’t.”

“Oops, my bad. So tell him yourself.”

Hajime read the crayon-drawing assignment sheets waiting for him in that envelope during a break, sitting slumped over at a table with a bunch of students he didn’t really know. Apparently, Kokichi and the Ultimate Gamer wanted Hajime and Nagito to make a short documentary film showing everybody what life was like in the Hope’s Peak Reserve Course. They were supposed to interview students and get some funny stories; they were supposed to go over some of the things people were studying, and rate whether the desks were comfy. Just… get a portrait of the Reserve Course as people, basically, the instructions said. And be sure to let the Ultimate Supreme Leader know if anyone seemed open to helping with this prank he had in the works. Get them to sign a short, totally-harmless liability form. It’ll be fun.

Hajime crumpled the envelope and all its assignment sheets up, one by one, preparing to toss them away with the rest of his trash. But then he unfolded them, running a hand through his sticky-uppy hair.

You know what?

Why not.

Maybe it would do Nagito Komaeda some good, to get to know the people he was insulting. To see the school from a different point of view. Maybe it would be satisfying to see him feel like a jerk, fumbling around, trying oh-so-messily to explain himself to anybody a little less forgiving than Hajime. Anyway, it was sort of annoying the guy thought his name was something random Kokichi Oma had pulled out of a hat, too.

So Hajime went to meet Nagito by the fountains. For a moment, before they actually started working on the project, it had felt sort of right. Nagito had stood up from where he’d been bent over some homework; he’d smoothed down his vest, and smiled awkwardly, self-consciously. Hopefully. It had looked like maybe he would apologize. Maybe he’d thought over what he said, and Hajime didn’t need to spend any time convincing him he was an asshole. In that case, maybe Nagito was the kind of willowy handsome that Hajime liked in drama actors, if you got past the funny way he held himself. In that case, maybe his voice was sort of soft and lyrical, and if they were talking about something else… almost anything else… Hajime wouldn’t really mind listening to him.

But then, uh. Hajime got close enough for Nagito to wave, and call, “Do you understand what I meant, now, then? It’s nice to meet you properly, Daisuke!” And it only went downhill from there.

It didn’t help that the minute Hajime handed Nagito the school-owned camera Kokichi had finagled for them to use, it got carried out of his hands by an actual hawk. What the hell? “Ultimate Luck,” Nagito clarified, but what did that even mean? So then they were gonna record the thing on Hajime’s phone, except that they couldn’t decide where to start. Who to talk to. They got into a half-shouting match in front of a few of Hajime’s friendlier classmates, who excused themselves as quickly as possible. They tried to film the gymnasium, but it was closed for emergency fumigation and they ended up gagging, hunched over outside the doors for about five minutes. They tried to film in the dorms, but Hajime’s entrance pass cracked in two when they attempted to use it. Those were expensive! Augh! Why was Nagito laughing?!

Whatever Hajime tried to do, it felt like Nagito came sliding over to step on his toes. They were getting nowhere. This project was getting nowhere. They had to delete the one decent interview they managed to get because Hajime himself accidentally had his thumb over the camera. He had literally no idea how he could’ve missed something like that.

“Ultimate Luck,” Nagito said, again, for about the millionth time that evening. “See? It’s really not always much of a talent!”

That was the last straw. Hajime was done. Nagito was still obsessed with this concept of “talent”; Nagito was the last person who should be making a video trying to show what life was really like for Reserve Course students. The Ultimate Supreme Leader was probably just messing with them, just being a little shit like people said he tended to be. School Unity? What could Nagito Komaeda do to work towards School Unity? He was probably the sort of person who would want to trap a lizard that thought it was a dragon, just to show the poor little guy how small he really was. Hajime didn’t have time for this.

And so he told Nagito as much, and he gathered up his things. He deleted all the footage they’d recorded for their project, and went back home. That could’ve been the end of it. If Kokichi turned up in any of his classes again, Hajime would just tune him out. If the Ultimate Gamer asked him why he didn’t come around anymore, yeah, okay, he’d apologize, but that was it.

Hajime didn’t hear anything from the School Unity Club for about a month. “Good riddance,” he thought. He imagined himself slamming a book closed. And then possibly kicking said book under the bed, or something.

When he got a text from Kokichi Oma — wait, how had the Ultimate Supreme Leader gotten his phone number?! — Hajime almost didn’t open it. But morbid curiosity won out in the end, as it so often did. Morbid curiosity, and that claustrophobic, helplessly-stricken pull to the Ultimate Students Hajime still felt, even now. He had wanted to be valuable, to be seen; he had wanted to be a revelation. Every breath he took on this earth could have been game-changing, if only he’d been born someone else.

“Nice work on your video,” Kokichi said. “Turned out really insightful. I think it’ll help the Reserve Course students feel seen, too.”

Alright. Hold on.

What?

***

2. The Light

When Nagito Komaeda asked the Ultimate Supreme Leader whether it had been difficult, convincing Hajime to come watch his documentary about the Hope’s Peak Academy Reserve Course together, Kokichi said, “You just better not mess this up, kid,” with a big, sloppy wink. Nevermind that he really hadn’t answered the question, actually, when Nagito thought back on it – nevermind that Kokichi was… again… younger than him. Maybe it meant Hajime had struggled against the idea of ever actually talking to Nagito again, and Kokichi’d had to bribe him with glittery promises like, “If you give the video a chance, I’ll delete your phone number from my contacts list!” Or maybe it meant Nagito should feel lucky – lucky in a good way, mind you – because Hajime hadn’t needed a lot of nagging at all. Maybe Mr. Pointy-Hair was genuinely curious. Maybe he’d be willing to forgive how badly things had gone, and try, Nagito didn’t know, “hanging out” again, sometime.

“Why did you lie about Hajime’s name, to me?” Nagito asked. “I looked… inconsiderate.”

“Who knows?” Kokichi said. “I do stuff like that, you know.”

It would’ve been way too easy, if Kokichi Oma had been willing to answer a simple question for once. But all the same, Nagito ended up sitting alone in a dark, lonely classroom after club activities were over for the night; all the same, Nagito had finished up the Reserve Course documentary film on his own. He’d purchased four separate video cameras, and lost them all to his ruthless luck. He’d interviewed people from Hajime’s classes, asking the questions Hajime had scrawled out on the back of Kokichi’s crumpled-up assignment envelope that time they tried working together. “What brought you to the Reserve Course?” “What’s your most precious goal, and how do you hope the Reserve Course will help you get there?” “Do you like going to school here?” “What do you think Hope’s Peak could do differently, to show that it values all its students?” Some of the answers he’d gotten were genuinely shocking – one of them made him cry, actually, and try to shake the girl’s hand afterwards. (She took his hand, yes, but then asked why there was so much mud on it. Oh, crap. Nagito’d forgotten that happened… he’d been swallowed up by a surprise swamp on the way across campus that day.) All of the answers were… human? Maybe sometimes it was easy to get so wrapped up in this business of hope and despair, talent and luck, that Nagito forgot how learning a person’s abilities just barely scraped the surface of what it would be like getting to know them. He didn’t talk much at all, giving his interviews – aside from asking questions, of course. He laughed at jokes, sometimes, but he tried to laugh quietly, without wobbling the camera too much.

Nagito had expected the interviews would enrage him – would make him think these people were ungrateful, were building themselves homemade trophies to take away from the Ultimate Talents the Main Course actually earned. And sometimes, yeah, sometimes he did want to argue back. Put them in their places, back in the dirt with him; click off the flashlight that thought it was the sun. But he listened, for a while, anyway. Maybe it was because Hajime would’ve wanted him to, at first – maybe it was because Hajime might have said he couldn’t do it. But in the end, Nagito found himself with a lot of footage of people telling him their truths, and so many of those stories tasted familiar. That longing, that hurt, that want, that hunger. It had been written all over Hajime’s face when they first met, but Nagito’d never asked his story, had he?

Ah, well. Nagito had tried making the documentary into something Hajime wouldn’t hate, you know? He’d gone to one of the Reserve Course’s basketball games and recorded the crowds cheering, recorded the players’ teamwork and struggle. None of the players were the Ultimate Basketball Star or anything, but it still mattered when they won, didn’t it? Maybe not as much, existentially, or for the hope of the world as Nagito understood it, but – but it could still be emotional watching them come together and ruffle each other’s hair, afterwards, reminiscing about the game. Nagito had attempted to go to a Reserve Course swimming team competition too, but of course the pool flooded the second he stepped in the building… and like, really flooded, in that most of the bleachers were still underwater and they hadn’t been able to drain the dressing rooms, yet. Some sort of weird, constant flow in from ocean?! Nagito wasn’t sure on the specifics. Point being, he’d stopped attending sports events for a while, but he had asked Chiaki to record the Reserve Course’s musical production of Les Misérables so he could splice some of it into the documentary.

Nagito didn’t ask specific questions about Hajime Hinata while conducting his interviews, but he’d heard some stuff about him all the same. He was a good classmate, people said – a hard worker, soft-spoken, but he didn’t just sit back and take kindly to bullies. He was smart, but his handwriting was terrible, and he and Nagito seemed to like the same type of video games. Hajime’s classmates mentioned him in passing, see, discussing him among themselves… or they said, “Oh, no, Nagito’s probably okay. He was with Hajime a couple days ago, remember? Hey, Nagito, are you two friends?”

Um.

In that moment, Nagito had wanted very badly to say yes, yes they were friends. He would’ve been proud to have Hajime like him, as a person, the way Chiaki seemed to. But he just sort of smiled and shook his head. “We were working on a project together,” he offered. “School Unity Club.” It was probably fair to leave it at that, right?

But now the documentary was finished, and Hajime had been persuaded… somehow… to come to some empty classroom after School Unity Club let out and watch it at Nagito’s side. Nagito hadn’t really felt like he should be going to School Unity Club meetings lately: it was surreal to be back here again, inviting Hajime into the ruins of a game tournament. There was a scribbly, multi-color scoreboard, and bits of the floor were duct-taped off into what looked like a beanbag chair/slime vat obstacle course. The janitors at Hope’s Peak must have hated Kokichi Oma. Or who knows, really? Maybe he was planning to slink back in and clean all this up himself, after Nagito and Hajime finished with their video. Nagito showed Hajime over to some chairs he’d set up in front of his cracked-apart personal laptop. He pulled out Hajime’s chair a little bit, like they were someplace fancy, and Hajime scoffed. He sat down, though. And then he gestured to Nagito’s chair, like, “Well?”

They watched the documentary in silence. Sometimes Hajime shifted, or scratched at his neck. Sometimes he gasped, or shot Nagito careful, considering eyes. Nagito… for his part… tried his best to keep his expression neutral, the same as he’d done at that first School Unity Club meeting. The last interview was with himself, after all, and he thought he’d made his own points pretty clear. He didn’t understand what the Reserve Course meant, in connection to the Main Course here at Hope’s Peak Academy… on one hand he still thought it defied the point of the whole place, but on the other it was a class full of creativity and excitement and hope for the future, too. He’d learned a lot from the Reserve Course students, and it had been fun spending time with them. The interview questions had been written by Hajime Hinata, but they’d honestly become Nagito’s questions too, by the end. He thanked the viewer for watching, and the interviewees for talking to him, and the swimming team for their forgiveness when he tried to explain that it was his weird luck that ruined their tournament.

It wasn’t perfect. Nagito stumbled over his words, sometimes, and he contradicted himself, and he went on a short monologue about how it was possible hope came in innumerable different forms. He hinted at one of his most embarrassing thoughts, too – that maybe… just maybe, possibly, against all odds… it might’ve been more merciful to have a world without the worship of talent, a world where all people could just live as themselves and know that was enough. He had almost edited that part out. In another life, he probably wouldn’t have wanted anyone in the world to hear it. It flew in the face of everything he was supposed to honor, after all. It was skeptical of the very concept of the Ultimate Talents themselves.

Nagito might not have been able to explain exactly why he kept that part of his own interview in the documentary. Maybe he wanted Hajime to get him, if they ever spoke again. Maybe so many strangers had been utterly, vulnerably honest with him, he felt like it was sort of his turn. Either way, he winced, taking in the frustrated surrender on his own recorded face. He kept his arms folded over his chest and gritted his teeth. Hajime was watching him imagine a world where all that mattered was the light, whether it came from a flashlight or the sun. For all Nagito knew, he sounded ridiculous.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be,” Hajime said, slowly, after the credits rolled – Chiaki was thanked for most things Nagito hadn’t attributed to either himself or the conspicuously-absent Hajime Hinata. “Thanks, Nagito. You… are you going to the next club meeting?”

“What? Am I…?”

“I mean the School Unity Club. If you go to the next meeting, I’ll come too.”

Nagito swallowed, fidgeting. He brushed a little messy white hair behind his ear. “Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.” He decided to push his luck, just a little, then, seeing Hajime smile: he decided to try and make this raw, beautiful person that hated him laugh. “Maybe Kokichi’ll stop pestering me if I finally participate.”

Hajime snorted. He relaxed, just the littlest bit, and Nagito felt his insides twist. That was an unfamiliar feeling.

“Probably not,” Hajime said.

“No… probably not.”

That couldn’t have been part of the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s secret conniving plan, though, right? To get them to bond over mutual frustration… to pester them both until they started commiserating about it…

Right?

But then, maybe Nagito shouldn’t put it past him. Kokichi’d earned his Ultimate Student-status somehow. Maybe he and Chiaki hadn’t been completely wrong about a School Unity Club, either.

Well, now… they’d just played right into the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s hands, hadn’t they?

That didn’t matter too much, somehow, when Hajime was taking Nagito out to arcades with his other friends, and on hikes in the forest, and to read quietly on a bench in the park. Sun on their skin, wind in their hair, ruffling the pages of their books just the littlest bit… or else grabbing Nagito’s book away and hurtling it out horrifyingly fast into oncoming traffic. Or maybe it was the first book Hajime got him as a gift that would get stolen by a randomly-appearing hawk, this time? At least now Hajime knew Nagito usually laughed that desperate, rattling sort of cackle when he was upset. Nervous. Panicking. At least now Hajime would rub his back, a little, and tell him they were fine. Hey, hey. Nagito, look at me. Your luck isn’t your fault. Just breathe.

Breathe.

No, falling for the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s machinations barely mattered at all, this time.

2 ½. So Glad I was Wrong About You

The first time Hajime Hinata kissed Nagito Komaeda, he hadn’t been expecting to do it, himself, if you’d asked him just five minutes before. They were doing homework together, and the year was almost over – Nagito had asked Hajime to come to the Main Course Graduation Ball with him, as friends, of course, and high school was winding down to an end for both of them. Hajime had just worked weekend shifts at a thrift store to buy himself a set of four-leaf clover cufflinks to wear with his suit, small and gold and hopefully not the sort of thing Nagito would think was tacky. They were… Hajime hadn’t known what they were, exactly, until he found himself watching the way Nagito talked with his hands, staring off into the distance, swept away in what they were discussing. He remembered something their mutual friend Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, had said a few weeks before:

“I don’t think Nagito’s gonna ask you to go to the ball as his date-date. But if he does, be nice.”

Hajime hadn’t pressed Chiaki on that, for some reason. He’d been a little distracted by how she was completely annihilating him in the game they were playing. Why hadn’t he… dammit, why hadn’t he really heard her, then? If Nagito asked him out, like… as a boyfriend… Hajime was supposed to treat him gently. Maybe Chiaki thought Hajime would’ve wanted to say no, to an invitation like that? It was hard to say. Her expression had been all dusty lavender, vague and soft, watching her character defeat Hajime’s so, so mercilessly. The game had been reflected in her eyes, neon and flickering and fast.

But maybe… maybe what Chiaki said had meant more than just some run-of-the-mill politeness advice. It could have meant Nagito’d told Chiaki he was interested in taking Hajime as his date-date, but had backed away squirming from the idea because he was still getting over the concept that he was somehow fundamentally broken. Maybe he didn’t realize Hajime had bought those four-leaf clover cufflinks like a promise, because he didn’t want this Graduation Ball to be the last chance he got to wear them. To be fair, Hajime had only just realized that, himself. Who else was he gonna wear four-leaf clovers for, if not the Ultimate Lucky Student? He’d gotten to know Nagito’s luck extremely well, over the last year together; he knew which scars he tended to keep hidden, because he hated explaining their backstories, and he had watched Nagito’s closing monologue from that Reserve Course documentary over and over in the dead of night. Trying to understand it. Trying to understand this impossible, contrary guy who had just helped him edit his last Japanese Literature essay of the semester.

Hajime had kept telling himself he was done with Nagito Komaeda – for weeks, he’d told himself that. It felt like such a waste, now. They were both growing beyond Hope’s Peak Academy, in their ways, even though obviously there had been a time when Hajime would’ve told you that was impossible. He hadn’t thought he could imagine himself a meaningful future without some link to Ultimate Talent, without this school, whatever exactly it was, but the possibilities had started painting themselves to life without him really noticing it. The change crept in so sweetly, somewhere between the Ultimate Supreme Leader dragging the whole School Unity Club into participating in the next academy-wide musical and that time they’d all gotten lost in the mountains and Hajime found himself spreading his coat out over Nagito while he slept. Living had changed things, brought meaning where none had been assigned by fancy academy board members. When Hajime learned about the Izuru Kamukura Project – a study that had apparently endowed some random Reserve Course student with all the Ultimate Talents under the sun – he was jealous, yeah, but not the way he felt he should have been.

Hajime leaned across the desk and took Nagito’s face in his hands; he kissed him fast and hard, before he could change his mind. Kissed him like he’d yelled his actual first name in his face. Kissed him like truth, and the revelation he’d always thought maybe he could be, if only, if only, if only. He felt Nagito tense and then soften; he felt Nagito try to speak, and then close his eyes, pale lashes brushing against his skin. Hajime ran his hand down Nagito’s neck, and tangled it just a little in his unbrushed hair. Nagito made a wondering, helpless sound, and Hajime held him closer. Pulled back. Kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Nagito said. Hajime didn’t think he knew what for. Maybe he was still sorry for saying he didn’t think Hajime had any reason to come to this school and that whole tangled-up, confusing introduction they’d had; maybe he was just worried he’d turned out to be a disappointing kisser. Somewhere out in the hallway, Kokichi Oma was laughing, calling, “You’ll never take me alive!” to someone chasing him with a mysteriously bedazzled mop. Somewhere out in the hallway, Izuru Kamukura – Reserve Course student-turned living god – was staring out at the world and realizing it was all immeasurably, heartbreakingly boring, when all the talent possible was limp in his hands.

“Why?” Hajime asked.

“Um,” Nagito said. There were so many words churning inside him, but he was holding Hajime’s hand really tightly, now. He cleared his throat. “I mean, we can try that again, if you want. If I did it wrong.”

Hajime and Nagito were both strong believers in second chances, by that point. They went to the Main Course Graduation Ball with Nagito holding Hajime’s hand just as tight, and no, that absolutely wasn’t the last chance Hajime had to wear those four-leaf clover cufflinks.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

45 notes · View notes

mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

Text

Wicked and the Wallflower. By Sarah MacLean. New York: Avon, 2018.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Bareknuckle Bastards #1

Summary: When a mysterious stranger finds his way into her bedchamber and offers his help in landing a duke, Lady Felicity Faircloth agrees—on one condition. She's seen enough of the world to believe in passion, and won't accept a marriage without it. Bastard son of a duke and king of London's dark streets, Devil has spent a lifetime wielding power and seizing opportunity, and the spinster wallflower is everything he needs to exact a revenge years in the making. All he must do is turn the plain little mouse into an irresistible temptress, set his trap, and destroy his enemy. But there's nothing plain about Felicity Faircloth, who quickly decides she'd rather have Devil than another. Soon, Devil's carefully laid plans are in chaos, and he must choose between everything he's ever wanted...and the only thing he's ever desired.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, blood, violence, threat of sexual assault, references to child abuse and disfiguring

Overview: I wasn’t a fan of MacLean’s A Rogue By Any Other Name, but I figured I’d give the author another shot and read something a little more recent. While I didn’t enjoy everything about this book, I did like it much better, and most of my complaints are probably personal preferences (rather than anything MacLean did wrong). I’m primarily giving this book 4 stars because I think MacLean did a good job making the romance more substantive and the plot more high-stakes, but I refrain from awarding it 5 stars because the hero was a bit too edge lord for my tastes.

Writing: MacLean’s prose is quick and to-the-point, which I think many romance readers will appreciate. It is easy to get through and sets the scene pretty well, and there weren’t really any moments where I felt like I needed more context or more support to understand what was going on.

Despite not having a clever structure like the use of epistles to break up the narrative, I have to give MacLean credit for using her themes well. At one point, the hero tells the heroine the story of Janus and a lover named Cardea, and I felt like the themes of past, present, and future were paralleled really well in the way the romance ended up going down. I also really liked the way Felicity’s lockpicks acted as a metaphor for a lot of social phenomena, and the way darkness and light enhanced the implications of some of the action.

I think the only complaints I have concern the prologue and the pace of the first 100 pages or so, and even these are minor. First, the prologue: the prologue sets the stage for the entirety of the Bareknuckle Bastards series, which is fine, in itself. After describing the birth of 3 bastard male offspring and 1 legitimate female offspring to a powerful duke desperate for an heir, MacLean focuses on the daughter’s power from infancy to womanhood for about a paragraph before she turns away from her and says “hers is a story for another time. This story begins with the boys.” I thought it was strange to set up the novel as “there’s this really powerful woman... but we’re ignoring her for now to focus on the boys.” It felt odd, and felt like a privileging of male stories over female ones.

Second, the pace. It took a little while for the plot proper to get going, in mu opinion, because the first 100 pages or so were filled with a lot of conversations. Granted, some of these conversations establish character relationships, which is fine, but there were points where I felt like the pace could have been sped up. The heroine’s first lengthy conversation with her mother and brother, for example, felt drawn out, and some of the initial conversations between Devil and Felicity could have been condensed. But that’s just my opinion - I’m sure others will disagree.

Plot: Aside from the romance, most of the plot of this book involves a number of complex schemes. The summary, in my opinion, doesn’t quite paint an accurate picture. Felicity, an aging, plain-looking, semi-outcast spinster, struggles to find a husband after being caught up in a number of minor scandals. As a result of these scandals, her “friends” have deserted her and distanced themselves from her by calling her names and belittling her (often to her face). In a fit of anger and frustration, Felicity tells them she is engaged to the Duke of Marwick - a man she has never met, but is the ton’s most eligible bachelor at the moment. Gossip quickly spreads, and Felicity realizes she has risked permanent ruination if the duke publicly denies their engagement.

Marwick, however, happens to be one of the 3 male bastard offspring of the previous duke, but no one (not even Felicity) knows that. He’s in the market for a wife so he can produce heirs and solidify his hold on his title. Devil, Marwick’s bastard brother, wants to get revenge on him, not just because Marwick took the title and did nothing to help his siblings, but because of a number of things from their past (which I won’t spoil). Upon finding Felicity by chance, Devil strikes a bargain with her: Devil will convince Marwick to marry her in exchange for a favor, which he will cash in at some point in the future. Felicity agrees, but Devil never intends for Felicity and Marwick to marry; his plan is to instead use Felicity to humiliate his brother, primarily by seducing and ruining her before the wedding. Doing so will send the message that Devil will always be the one with the power to undercut his brother’s happiness. It’s a little petty, but there it is.

All that being said, Devil doesn’t so much teach Felicity to be a temptress as he does engage in a power struggle using Felicity as a pawn. While it’s true that Felicity demands that her union with Marwick be not just a marriage of convenience, but one where Marwick burns with passion for her, Devil is less of an instructor and more of a person who pulls strings behind the scenes. Unbeknownst to Felicity, Marwick has already agreed to marry her without Devil’s influence, in part because he doesn’t care for the women of the ton; he’s only after a marriage of convenience. When he learns that Devil intends to meddle in his affairs, he becomes set on marrying Felicity for no other reason than to show his brother who is more powerful. Devil, on the other hand, falls for Felicity and has to choose between his personal happiness and ruining his brother.

It feels complicated and petty, and it kind of is, but I honestly felt there was enough conflict there to avoid thinking that the only barrier to the main couple’s union was personal reservations. Felicity had enough social pressure on her (from society and from her family) to try to make an advantageous match, and Devil was questionable enough in character where a union with him would put Felicity and her family’s reputation (further) at risk. Devil also had enough of a conflict between his own wishes and his vendettas for the angst to be interesting.

Characters: Felicity, our heroine, is a witty, stubborn woman who displays exceptional lockpicking skills. At first, I wasn’t sure I would like her, but I think MacLean does a good job ensuring that Felicity is constantly pushing Devil and constantly insisting on her own agency, instead of just buckling at the first hint of arousal. I also felt that the lockpicking would be some kind of empty quirk at first, like an empty gesture to female agency, but I actually though MacLean ended up using it well, having it be a commentary on female societal constraints as well as the saving grace in the final showdown.

Devil, our hero, was complex enough to be interesting, but a little too edgy for my personal taste. While I liked that he had a past that informed his actions in the present, and he was ruthless without being cruel, he did have some moments that turned me off. His jealousy, for one, was mostly fine because he never acted on it, but I still disliked that his first thought was violence whenever another man so much as looked at Felicity. I also think he was a bit too self-hating, as he constantly brought up the fact that he was “raised in darkness” or whatever, and while fine sometimes, it got old and repetitive. And finally, there were moments where he tried to control Felicity’s actions, and while I understand that some of them were born out of concern for her safety, I still hated how constantly he would yell about her not being where she should be. I will praise MacLean, though, for making Devil a character who put Felicity’s emotions and desires ahead of his own (to a point). One of the big problems I had with Bourne in A Rogue By Any Other Name was his selfishness, and I feel like Devil was a good mixture of selfish (by way of his desire for revenge) and selfless (by way of his love for Felicity).

I also really liked that we got to see Devil at work in his smuggling business. Too often, I feel like I’m told that a character is bad or a criminal, and I don’t really get to see them hard at work or their business playing an important role in their lives. Unlike Bourne, who seemed ashamed of his business to some extent, Devil is really invested, and I liked that Felicity was able to find good things about the smuggling operation, such as loyalty between the workers and the money it brought to poor neighborhoods.

Side characters also felt way more interesting and complex. Felicity’s family, for example, were flawed without being evil, and I liked the arc where her family had to come to terms with all the pressure they put on her. Devil’s siblings were also fairly well-developed, with thoughts and opinions on the romance that enriched the story rather than distracted from it. I also liked that Marwick was “evil” without being a caricature, and I almost felt like I understood and could possibly forgive his actions up until the final showdown. All in all, I think most characters worked, and nothing felt too empty or shallow.

Romance: When all’s said and done, I feel like Devil and Felicity had good chemistry, and MacLean handled their romance very well. In part, I think I took to this romance so well because MacLean emphasized emotion over sexual attraction. I generally dislike it when romances treat sexual attraction as the main driver of the romance, so they lay it on thick in a way that feels ridiculous. Though there was some sexual attraction in this book, MacLean put more weight behind the emotional connection by showing a lot of banter. Felicity’s and Devil’s banter not only showed off their personalities, but showed how Felicity was able to hold her own and keep surprising Devil. While I did feel that Devil could be a little controlling at times, I ultimately think MacLean did enough work to show Felicity rejecting his influence and consistently pushing boundaries (in a way that wasn’t problematic), thereby establishing them as equals.

I also really liked that both characters enriched the other’s emotional lives, and their arcs mirrored one another. Felicity is extremely insecure about her plainness, and Devil is fairly insecure about his criminality and lack of good social standing. Together, they help one another realize that they are worth something and are good enough, just the way they are. I really love it when romances do this because it shows that the romance is based on something other than physical attraction or the fact that a hero was nice once.

And as a side note, I also loved that Devil insisted on Felicity’s consent whenever they engaged in sexual activity. I never got the feeling that either partner was pushing the other to do things that they weren’t 100% into. The only thing that came relatively close was the scene when Felicity asked Devil to have penetrative sex with her, and he initially refuses because he doesn’t want to ruin her. She does push the issue a little, but I read that more as her making the decision for herself about whether or not to be “ruined,” not as her making Devil do something he was reluctant on doing for personal reasons.

TL;DR: Despite featuring a fairly edgy hero, Wicked and the Wallflower is an emotionally-satisfying romance with a clever use of thematic elements, such as past/present/future, light/dark, and locked doors/lockpicking.

4 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 4 years

Text

Jewel Of The North Part 4

Ok, so in writing this part, I imagined that while there is an art of reading actual tea leaves, I saw a picture of this plate on the left edge and thought ‘man wouldn’t reading tea leaves be easier if each squigly section was part of something? Like this section is the life section, this is the money section, this is the love life section, so on and so fourth’ you know, make it even more complicated than it probably is.Also I love and adore Indian jewelry, because that is a gold temple necklace. It’s just...gorgeous. And in my mind, a priestess of Aura (who I totally made up for this story) would be wearing a fabulous shawl, that heavy gold jewelry and a head band that would match and have something akin to an Asian tea ceremony and depending on which tea people chose- told the priestess about them, kind of like what your favorite color says about you. Also, LOOK AT THAT GOLD DRESS. Hot damn. Also as an LMT, Vahva Kun is NOT a thing. Again, something I made up.

And of course a thousand THANK YOU’s to the fabulous and super fabulous and creative @monstersandmaw for sharing the concept of ice orcs with me. Me and my Alaskan born heart instantly fell in love with them. Enjoy!

Jewel of the North

Part 4

In the morning, you pulled yourself from the bed and you felt like it was noon. Thank the gods for the time difference, because it was only 9 there.

“Well good morning sleepy head, working miracles wear you out?” Taylor teased you as she handed you a cup of coffee.

“Yeah,” you nodded as you took it and drank it gratefully.

“So, what’s the plan?” Taylor asked.

“Massages today, working with Noah tomorrow, after that…” You shrugged.

“Happily ever after.” Taylor supplied.

“Hush or you’ll jinx it.” You shushed her in a whisper but her scheming grin was infectious.

It took all day but by 7pm, you had gotten everyone taken care of that you came to take care of and Taylor decided to get takeout for dinner and while at the takeout restaurant that was on the other side of town, the group of pilots came striding in.

“That’s them. The other pilots.” Taylor breathed.

“Who’s who?” You whispered back before she specified who was who before you had her shut up so you could overhear their conversation. They were going to get food here and then go for drinks at ‘the bar’ later.

“What bar?” You whispered to Taylor.

“Knowing them- it’s probably Goose’s, they have the cheapest booze around and it’s close to their apartment, like within walking distance.” Taylor answered.

“Goose’s is the seedy, underbelly place that I don’t want to go to the bathroom in? That has the awesome cheeseburgers?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor nodded as an idea bloomed in your head.

“Are they attracted to women?” You nodded over to them.

“Oh yeah,” Taylor confirmed before one of them wolf whistled to a group of women who came into the restaurant. Ah. Those kinds of guys. Almost too easy.

“Could you take me there? I have an idea, it’s a dirty, underhanded idea though.” You whispered.

“That means it’s a fantastic idea.” Taylor grinned.

“What shoe size are you?” You asked.

“9.” She answered.

“Sweet, do you by any chance have any hooker heels?” You hinted.

“Wait, wait, wait, you won’t have sex with Noah but you want to go to Goose’s in hooker heels? Every guy in that place is going to fighting for the chance to take you home if not fuck you senseless in the bar’s bathroom, if not the parking lot.” Taylor answered.

“Oh trust me, the only one taking me home is you, I have a plan. How fast can you get dressed and dolled up?” You urged her.

“Oh give me thirty minutes tops.” Taylor insisted.

You got the food and barely ate two bites of it before you and Taylor quickly locked yourselves in her bathroom to get ready as you put on your most seductive makeup and a slimming undergarment under your sexiest dress that had the push up bra to end all push up bras as you brought and slipped into her hottest “hooker heels” while she wore the more sensible shoes you brought since you were the same shoe size as her.

“How do I look? She-wolf enough?” You asked her.

“Ah, I see, you’re going to eat them alive.” She realized.

“Yup, my brother’s mother in law- Olga is a priestess for Aura and is Yamalian which is near Siberia and she nicknamed me Zahnochka Volchitsa which means ‘she wolf that rises again’ and just like Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, Zara Kingsley has Zahnochka Volchitsa, and Zahnochka is going to get them so wasted, they won’t be able to fly tomorrow which is good ol’ fashioned sabotage and when they can’t fly the loads, Noah will be there to pick them up and save the day.” You revealed.

“Oooh, evil and diabolical but for the best cause ever- I love it.” Taylor nodded in approval.

“Just don’t tell Noah, I don’t think he’d approve of my methods or like Zahnochka very much because I haven’t used “her” in a long time.” You urged her.

“Lips are sealed.” She swore as she had you wear her fancy dress jacket to cover up so Greg wouldn’t see you or the kids.

“Honey, Zara and I are going out for a drink, we’ll be back later.” Taylor told her husband as she quickly ushered the two of you out of the house and drove to Goose’s as you got in your wallet and slipped money into your cleavage on the way there so you wouldn’t really have to get your whole wallet out and chance any of them seeing your business card or your real... anything. Then you prayed to the gods for courage and hoped this gamble would be worth the risk to yourself and hoped this wouldn’t backfire and blow up in your face or bite you in the ass.

Once in the bar you zeroed in the group of pilots sitting together at a table towards a wall, which was perfect and out of the way, just the way you liked it as a mischievous smirk danced on your lips.

And then you locked your smoldering and seductive gaze with one of them who froze and stared back in awe like a deer caught in headlights as he watched as you strutted and sauntered into the place, your heels clicking on the tile and slowly slipped out of your light jacket to reveal your gold silk dress and made sure that every guy in the place with a pulse knew you were officially on the radar. You had an ability which you had perfected over your life, you called it the ‘Marylin Monroe effect’ because she had this gift that she could ‘turn on’ and she could transform from normal house wife to blonde bombshell right before anyone’s eyes and you had a similar gift and you were about to use it again.

“What can I get you to drink Gorgeous?” The bartender John asked as he was grateful he was working tonight, and here he thought it was just going to be a normal week night with the same old regulars but low and behold, a brand new gem came walking in, you must have just come into town because you were a brand new face. Plus, you were clearly the hottest woman in the place, hell in the whole damn town and you were dressed to kill and obviously on the prowl and he was ready offer himself as your prey for the night.

“What kind of whiskey do you have?” You asked as John began going through what he had, feeling a little embarrassed that they didn’t have a ton to choose from and what they did have, didn’t seem good enough for the goddess you were.

“Give me some Jamie, that’s plenty good enough for me, on the rocks please.” You ordered.

“And you Sugar?” John asked Taylor.

“Same.” Taylor agreed before John poured two very generous portions into glasses over ice and served them to you.

“Thank you.” You thanked him.

“So I take it you’re a friend from out of town.” John hinted as he looked from Taylor to you.

“That’s correct, I’m Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley.” You introduced yourself, rolling your r’s and taking on a slightly Siberian accent with the roll of your own name off your tongue as you shook his hand.

“John Wilks. Pleasure to meet you.” He shook it before it he took your hand and kissed it which got you to giggle bashfully before you pulled him towards you which caused him to lean as far over the bar as he could before you pulled a hundred dollar bill from your cleavage and slipped it into his hand.

“Give me the lay of the land.” You purred as you twirled your finger subtly to gesture to the bar.

“Uh, well, there’s…” He began as he listed off who was around the room, using the old ‘ 3 o’clock’ 6 o’clock’ method as you got the confirmation that all the guys at the table on the wall were the other pilots.

“Could you do me a favor?” You requested.

“Anything.” John offered.

“Get me the darkest beer glass you have. Empty it so I can use it as a chaser cause I have a feeling every guy in this place is about to buy me a drink and I don’t want to get too drunk and when it gets full, get me a new one.” You proposed, your voice dropping to a low murmur so that only John and Taylor could hear you.

“You got it.” John nodded in understanding as he got you the Milk of Dragon. Usually the beer is so dark and heavy it was black on it’s own but the glass was pitch black and you couldn’t tell except from picking it up if it had beer in it or not.

“Are you ready to see a show?” You breathed to Taylor who nodded before you got the glass and pretended to take a long pull from it before you turned in your chair and Taylor watched as you seemed to turn something on inside you- up full blast like seeing a Hollywood star light up on the red carpet, it was like you were a beacon of light, but you were all fire and flames, burning so hot you could set the stool you sat on- on fire and every man in the place just became a moth and every man couldn’t help but be drawn to you and you were practically swarmed.

"So what's your name Beautiful?" One guy asked.

"Zara- Zahnochka Volchetsia- Kingsley." You introduced yourself, giving the same flourish to the name and putting extra emphasis on the middle portion of your “name” while quickly rolling through the real parts of it which they all ate up like candy.

And instead of getting overwhelmed, you seemed pleased and basked in all the attention as you tried to give each guy in there just a few minutes of attention, remaining friendly and giving a little bit of your time to everyone so that no fights broke out for your attention, letting them spit game, each line greater than the last as your amused giggle filled the air and your smile lit up the dimly lit bar before the group of pilots came over and tried their luck and while their lines weren’t as clever as the others, you pretended to be the most affected before you offered your hand for them to lead you back to their table as you were sat down as the others grumped but watched on enviously as the group of pilots who weren’t all that handsome or all that impressive seemed to win your favor which didn’t make any sense to the rest of them maybe you just had a thing for younger guys. But you made your choice and they would respect it as Taylor sat next to you and just watched as the Zara she thought she knew was replaced by a full blown she-wolf. She didn’t know you had it in you but she knew why you were doing it and she had to respect the masterful way you were choosing to deal with the problem because no one else had the guts to do it this way. But it was genius.

“So are all of you pilots?” You asked eagerly as you sat at the table, putting on your best doe eyes and making sure you sat in such a way that your cleavage was heaving with every breath as they all undressed you with their eyes.

“Oh yeah, he flies…” Derek began to list off the different planes and you pretended to be impressed by it all as they ordered you drink after drink which was part of your plan, “chasing” it with your “beer” as you pretended to get tipsy, laughing at everything they said that was even slightly funny.

“So what do you do? Other than look sexy as hell?” Evan asked.

“Oh nothing much, just taking care of the estates and trust funds I’ve inherited when my grandparents died when I was younger, " You waived off and grinned when all their eyes practically got dollar signs in them and they were staring at you the way a hungry dog would look at a steak. Oh they would devour you the moment you let them.

Perfect.

“And I’m an LMT which stands for liscenced massage therapist, would you like a demonstration?” You purred.

“Hell yeah, my body is yours to do as you wish.” Evan offered before you took his arm and started massaging it and giggled when he groaned and moaned in pleasure before you got a brilliant idea.

“Well, as an LMT, I’m certified in using Vahva Kun, which all my body builder clients swear by and by using it, they build the biggest, most impressive muscles possible and it feels better than sex with the gods, would you like to try it?” You offered.

“Hell yeah,” they readily agreed as you went about using it on them as their moans and groans filled the small bar as you straddled their labs to get as close as possible to hit all these points in their bodies, leaving each of them feeling like a god themselves and the buzz they had already been feeling from the booze was amplified and they were feeling the most intense afterglow that did indeed surpass the afterglow after an orgasm as Taylor watched on curiously and only when you ordered another round of shots for the guys, this time of the 153, the strongest alcohol in the place, since you had massaged their necks and made sure to access their ‘sleeper mode’ muscles, then they took that last shot and promptly passed out and you used that to use their fingers tips to get into their phones and deleted the pictures they had taken of you in the compromising positions of their laps before you stood up and strode over to the bartender and slipped him another hundred dollar bill since by the time you were done, most of the other patrons had gone home for the night since it was past midnight and almost last call.

“Thanks for looking out for me tonight, you may need to call a taxi or an uber for them. They obviously won’t be able to drive home.” You nodded over to the table before you strutted out of there with Taylor and while you weren’t drunk on alcohol, you were definitely drunk on power and the thrill of what you just did because letting your inner she wolf out to breathe and feed for the first time in forever and it felt amazing.

“So what’s Vahva Kun?” Taylor asked as she drove you to her house.

“Vahva Kun is short for Vahva Kun Olen Hiekko. It means ‘strong when I’m weak’. Body builders pay me a grand each to do that to them a week and a half before competitions to make every muscle in their bodies’ bulge. In massage there’s only a few ways of doing things, and that is- pain now- pleasure later or pleasure now- pain later and Vahva Kun is as intense as pleasure now pain later gets. The reason it’s so pleasurable now is I use the body’s tendon organs to “turn off” muscles from the nervous system, this gives the effect to the brain that the muscle has become completely relaxed which feels amazing in the moment. But when you turn a muscle off, especially prime movers or major primes, the muscles that are responsible for your major movements, that means they can’t work anymore because you just told them, via their tendon organs to go the fuck to sleep and go on a little vacation and they become completely unresponsive and they feel lighter than air at first. So while they’re out in la la land, and can’t hear a thing from your nervous system who’s screaming at them to move. So that leaves only the synergists and the little assistant muscles to try to do the job of the major primes which they are ill equipped and too weak to do but they try their best. So they end up bulging by the end of it because they have no other choice because your body needs to move. However another thing happens when you do Vahva Kun, the nervous system freaks out. Now we all know how ecstasy works, it floods your brain with endorphins and other feel good chemicals to the point of overwhelming it right? Well Vahva Kun does the same thing initially. So what you’re left with is a brain who can’t feel most of the muscles in their body and is overwhelmed with pleasure and it freaks out and how it does that is it suddenly feels that the pleasure is actually pain and that you’re being attacked but it only does the switch once you succumb to the pleasure and pass out and the switch happens during your first sleep cycle.”

“So when they wake up tomorrow, they’re going to feel like they got hit by a mac truck and moving will be agony.” Taylor realised.

“Oh yeah, and when you do Vahva Kun you’re supposed to drink at least two liters of water or preferably an electrolyte drink before you take your initial sleep because in turning off the major primes, they release all their tension and everything that was trapped by that tension in particular all the “toxins” and acids and things stored in the muscles and when you drink a diuretic, like coffee or even worse- alcohol, the toxins can be released from one spot of the muscle but simply move and spread within the muscle belly instead of getting flushed out into your lymph system which then delivers it to your liver and kidneys to be removed from your body. And once the switch happens, the brain then sends fibroblasts into all the major primes which is a heavy duty messenger to make sure it’s still there period and the fibroblasts are like little explosions of protein and collagen and other substances into the major primes. Well imagine what an explosion looks like now imagine that inside a striated muscles, the fibroblasts usually go any manner of either outright perpendicular or just plain not in the directions of the striations in the muscles. Which again, make the muscles bulge. It looks awesome when you’re done, but it feels like you were in the worst bar fight ever. And for first time receivers of Vahva Kun it can take up to a month for your body to fully recover and your body aches the whole time and it can take several hours after just to get all the new knots out of the muscles and usually body builders, the first few to several days after- they can’t hardly move, they have all these huge bulging muscles that look incredibly strong but are jack shit for strength and that’s why it’s called Vahva Kun- strong when I’m weak. It means they look strong but they are in reality, very weak.” You explained.

“Vahva Kun was discovered by a prostitute, Jasmine Vahva, who was tired of being beat up by her clients and she found she could make a killing if she “massaged” them first using this technique, get them to pass out and steal them blind but then be gone before they could wake up and confront her. And she taught other sex workers this technique. But they only could ever do it to a client once and quickly word spread about the real “effects” of the massage and once the clients got wise to it it lost it’s “appeal.”, then the clients noticed that once they recovered, they physically looked amazing and so a few of them got into body building and then word spread and so you had the legitameate professionals going to Jasmine to learn this technique so that they could practice it on body builders which is a very lucrative discipline and her original friends who had been sex workers then got into the legitamate side of massage teaching Vahva Kun.” You revealed.

“So you fucked them over without dropping your panties an inch.” Taylor laughed.

“Yup, because those fuckers had the audacity to undercut Noah and put Noah and Sakura’s livelihood into jeopardy. A she wolf takes no prisoners when her den and pups are in danger. Even if she has to infiltrate another pack to do it.” You mused.

“Hot damn girl.” Taylor praised as she high fived you.

The next morning Noah came down the stairs to find his mother already there making breakfast.

“Good morning Mom.” Noah greeted sleepily as he shuffled over to the coffee pot before there was a knock and suddenly he was a million times more alert as he happily forgot all about the coffee to rush over to the door to open it.

“Good morning.” Noah greeted you happily.

“Good morning.” You greeted happily, sure that your dark circles under your eyes would scare the shit out of him but he didn’t seem to notice as he ushered you inside.

“Good morning Nana,” You greeted warmly.

“Good morning Zara.” Nana returned just as warmly.

“How do you like your eggs?” She asked.

“Over easy please if there’s toast.” You answered gratefully.

“Did Sakura take it easy on you guys yesterday?” You inquired hopefully.

“Yes, she didn’t wake up till 10, it was wonderful and you did such a fantastic job on the house, it was a really wonderful blessing.” Nana praised.

“Thank you, I did my best.” You nodded as you ducked your head. Appreciating the recognition.

“I know you did, and it’s really appreciated, you have no idea.” Noah added with a proud smile that was making wish you could ask him to try to show it but with his mother there, that wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“Go get ready Dear while I get breakfast finished.” Summer urged him and you saw the reluctant disappointment in his demeanor like a child who is told to go to bed when there was still company at the house and you could see he was about to argue but one look from her had his argument dying on his tongue before he begrudgingly pulled away and went back upstairs to hurry up and get ready as you got yourself a cup of coffee.

“So, I thought for sure that you would have slept in this morning from eating five men alive last night.” Nana noted once she heard the bathroom door shut upstairs and the shower turn on which made you choke on your coffee.

“Uh, how…?” You nervously asked as you tried to clean yourself up.

“The gods see all and only they could have revealed that to me. It takes a she-wolf with nerves of steel to do what you did, and to walk away without a scratch is a feat in itself. Don’t feel guilty about it, you ensured not just Noah and Sakura’s survival but the best chance for all of us to thrive too. But I need to tell you that you need to keep the she-wolf out today, embrace your Aura heritage, it won’t scare off Noah, it’ll surprise him but it won’t throw him off or intimidate him. Don’t lose your nerve or your courage. You’ll need it to make your mission complete. Use your bag and your magnificent mind and I’ll help you with your hair.” She advised you as she held your face in her aged but warm hands.

“Ok,” you agreed, feeling relieved yet validated and empowered before she kissed your forehead before you left just as Noah got out of the bathroom as you raced upstairs since you would need the bathroom’s larger bathroom counter to get ready and Noah looking like a god with just a towel around his waist was a delight.

“Everything ok?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, just had a really good talk with your mom, I need to finish getting ready though. Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the bathroom.

“Not at all, but we gotta get going in like an hour or so.” Noah answered, disappointed because here he thought he would have an hour or so with just staring at your beautiful face. Even without makeup you were gorgeous. You didn’t need makeup.

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before Sakura woke up to the sound of your voice.

“Paradise?” She asked sleepily as she opened her door before she saw you and immediately went to you and hugged you tightly.

“Good morning Sweetheart, did you sleep good?” You asked her.

“The best, I had the coolest dreams!” She eagerly told you.

“Well I have to get ready for the day, but I need your bathroom up here to do it, you want to tell me all about them while I get ready?” You proposed.

“Yeah!” She agreed as she took your hand and led you into the bathroom before she shut the door, leaving Noah feeling a little jealous he couldn’t be in there too but he got dressed and let you have your time with Sakura as he went back downstairs.

“What did you talk to Para-I mean, Zara about?” Noah asked his mom curiously.

“I encouraged her to embrace all of herself with you, and not to be scared of showing you all of herself or fear it will intimidate you or put you off. Everyone always tries to put for their best faces and the best versions of themselves to people they like and are trying to impress.” Summer hinted with a scheming grin.

“And for that she had to put on makeup?” Noah questioned as he cast a look in the direction of the bathroom when he heard Sakura and you laughing.

“She’ll explain it to you better once she comes down. She has to show Sakura first and Sakura’s approval will give her heart and courage to show you and some reassurance that she has nothing to worry about will be all you need to give.” She insisted.

“But for now, eat, be patient.” She urged him as she handed him a plate of food before she continued to cook breakfast as Noah begrudgingly ate and drank his coffee as his knee bounced impatiently as his mother joined him at the table as Noah racked his brain trying to think of what it could possibly be.

“Stop, you’ll imagine it way worse than it is.” Nana lightly smacked his arm.

“Look, the only thing I can think of is she’s used to be a stripper or something like that.” Noah blurted before he got another smack, this one much harder than the first.

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, at this point it’s a bonus.” Noah conceded before he recoiled from the third smack, this one even harder than the last as he rubbed his arm.

“You’re going to feel like an ass once she comes down the stairs.” Summer chastised before right on cue you came down the stairs looking like a proper goddess. A heavy shall was wrapped around your shoulders and you were wearing gold and purple highlighter on your cheeks as your complexion was made to look much more amethyst purple instead of peacock teal it usually looked and your eyeshadow was a brilliant gold and purple and your jewelry was authentic priestess of Aura jewelry. He was dumbstruck by how magnificent you looked.

“May I introduce Zahnochka Volchitsa! A minor priestess of Aura!” Sakura proudly introduced you, her freshly brushed teeth gleaming as her fresh braids that you had put into her hair showed off her silken tresses.

“And what a stunning one at that.” Summer praised as she had you sit down to breakfast next to Noah as she got up and took your hairbrush from your hand and your special headband and beads from your hands.

“Wow,” Noah breathed. “So, what’s the special occasion?” Noah asked.

“Well, your mother wisely advised me to embrace my “she-wolf” and “Aura heritage” today. When I was 15, my older brother Gavin started courting his wife Natasha who we call Tasha, she’s Siberian and her mother Olga, is a high priestess to Aura and serves at the Sinai Temple in the Great Lakes, and the moment she met me, she adopted me and gave me a new name. The name she gave me was ‘Zahnochka Volchitsa’ Volchitsa is Siberian for ‘she wolf’ and Zahnochka means ‘she will rise again’. And she has insisted I was her new daughter and forbade her own sons from dating me because that would be ‘incest’ even though at the time her 13 year old son Nicoli aka- Nikki- had the biggest crush on me, but he’s married with kids and we’re friends so now so it worked out. But anyway, she taught me how to have teeth and claws and how to take no bull-er-crap from anyone and how to be a strong independent woman with all the spice and sass of a viper and if any man dared cross me or even take advantage of me in any way- how to eat him alive like a proper shewolf, how protect ‘my den and pups’ and how to turn other people’s stupidity into my own benefit and she taught me how to give blessings, read palms and tea leaves and all that. But it’s an alter ego for me, like how Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, I have Zahnochka Volchitsa. I thought if your clients saw how you were flying around a minor priestess of Aura, the goddess of gold, luck and riches, they’d be willing to do just about anything, including renewing contracts with a pilot they tried to undercut for the chance to get a blessing.” You hinted with nervous grin.

“You don’t have to…” Noah tried to argue even though he was incredibly touched and so impressed by it. This was ingenious. Although as much as he wanted a blessing, he also knew that priestesses could not bless family. And since he desperately wanted to be your family, he would be satisfied with your presence to be blessing enough.

“Yes she does,” Summer immediately countered. “And we deeply appreciate it and Sakura and I will pray for your success.” She insisted as she continued to fix your hair appropriately, braiding the headband into your hair and securing it so that you looked like a proper priestess with the traditional hair arrangement and no sooner had you ate than Noah got the first call from a client as you got ready by putting the shawl on to complete the look.

“Be good for Nana ok?” You urged Sakura before you left, giving her a big hug.

“Will do.” Sakura reassured you before you kissed her all over her face which made her giggle with glee before she did the same to you before you let go and hugged Nana goodbye, giving her a kiss on the cheek before you left.

“My new Mama is amazing.” Sakura fawned as she watched the two of you go from the window and get in Noah’s truck as she grinned to see her dad open your door for you like a proper gentleman.

“Yes she is. Now, come on, we got some prayers to give.” She urged her granddaughter.

Once in the plane, you settled into the copilot seat with your backpack securely between your legs.

“How much does all that weigh anyway?” Noah asked curiously as he eyed the gaudy gold jewelry as he got settled in himself.

“About a thousand pounds.” You laughed. “It’s all real and solid so it’s quite heavy.” You revealed.

“Could you do me a favor though?” You asked hopefully.

“Anything.” Noah immediately agreed.

“Could you wear this gold charm at least for today?” You proposed as you pulled the large gold charm on a masculine chain out of your velvet blessing bag that had previously held all the jewelry wrapped in the shawl and a tea set for a proper priestess tea ceremony.

“As long as you won’t give me a formal blessing with it,” Noah specified. “I know priestesses can’t formally bless family members but your presence is blessing enough for me.” He noted which melted your heart and made you want to kiss him. You were ready to offer him a proper place in your family. But perhaps he was referring to the way you were with Sakura and meant that endearment fairly innocently.

“That’s correct, but they can give gifts, if you wear this, your clients will assume I’ve already blessed you and will want a blessing of their own, a first link in the chain.” You proposed.

“Ok,” Noah agreed before you turned in your seat and put it over his neck and being so close, you could smell the soap he used in his shower and his aftershave and just him in general and your brain got hazy with lust. But you feared it would be inappropriate and settled for simply kissing his forehead and offering him an adoring smile which he mirrored as he glanced from your eyes to your lips before a message came on his receiver which pulled his attention away.

“Yeah,” Noah answered.

“Hey could you swing by Corporal? I have a load for you this morning.” One of his clients radioed in.

“Sure thing, see you soon.” Noah agreed before he hung up.

“It’s working already,” Noah laughed. “That guy hasn’t had me fly a load for him all year, must be a big one.” Noah revealed.

“Then let’s do his first.” You suggested.

“Ok,” Noah nodded before he turned the plane on and began to taxi it out of the hanger and towards the runway before taking off and you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from squealing. Flying was so fun!

Once up in the air you put on your blood red lipstick with gold glitter gloss over it as you had Noah tell you about this particular client. Cranky old man type.

Perfect.

He landed the plane several long moments later and once taxied over to the loading area, you knew it was show time as you unbuckled your seatbelt and left the plane and grinned when an older gentleman practically came rushing up to you.

“Noah! Why didn’t you tell me you were flying around a priestess of Aura today?” Mick chastised Noah.

“Because most people are intimidated by priestesses. And since Noah has already lost so much already, I couldn’t chance him losing anymore, especially upon my account.” You easily answered for him.

“Of course,” Mick ducked his head as his cheeks blushed.

“This is Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley. This is Mick Mullins.” Noah introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You extended your hand and smiled serenely when he kissed it and pressed his forehead to your knuckles as he bowed respectfully.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted back.

“Would you have time to take tea with me?” You asked Mick hopefully.

“Of course, of course, right this way.” He ushered you to the control tower where there was a lounge with a coffee maker and an electric tea kettle which he quickly dumped bottled water into it to boil before he has you sit in his chair, in his office since it’s one of the most comfortable chairs in the place as you pull out your tea set and your trio of teas, each tin a work of art before you laid them out before him and ceremoniously took the top off of each one and sniffed each one before you offered for him to do the same before he sniffed each one.

“Which one do you prefer?” You asked as he looked between them.

“This one.” He specified as you nodded and smiled serenely at his choice before the kettle beeped and he immediately got up like a shot to retrieve it and brought it back just as you finished scooping the tea into the little teapot before he handed you the kettle before you poured in the right amount of water.

“So, Mr. Mullins.”

“Please call me Mick - Priestess.” He urged you.

“Thank you for having tea with me. And thank you many times over for doing business with Noah. That man has suffered so much loss recently. That loss has touched me very deeply. And to hear how his regular clients have taken their business elsewhere has disturbed me greatly and they will only reap disaster and misfortune for doing so, the gods told me through the leaves under no uncertain terms. Grabbing selfish hands today make it impossible to accept blessings, even if the gods are more than ready and willing to give an overabundance of them. Someone with closed fists cannot be handed anything. Even one closed fist can impede the other open one, since they cancel each other out. Even when what the gods will to give them is greater than what they already have in their hands. It doesn’t matter what their hands are physically if mentally, emotionally, figuratively and especially spiritually, since all of those are interwoven- if their figurative hands are closed, there is no blessing for them. Only a malediction. If that pattern persists, I feel I must intervene further, as I have contacts at the military bases and my more financially blessed clients may have a need for a private pilot for their jets and things and they will be more than happy to make sure Noah is paid handsomely, enough to make a move there worth his while many times over and they will be immeasurably blessed for doing so in Noah’s sake.” You proposed as you as you set up your tea ceremony as you glanced up at Mick who looked particularly embarrassed like you just pulled his pants down and exposed him.

“But I don’t feel that will happen to you, because you are being generous and using the deserving and there is no one more deserving than Noah and you will be blessed for it. I can tell, it is written in the lines on your face and on the veins on the back of your hands.” You reassured him which had light returning to his eyes and a smile spread on his face before you poured the tea.

“Well then let me reassure you that I would be more than happy to help Noah in any way I can.” Mick swore.

“Please do not use pretty words in the face of a priestess just to gain momentary favor, do not say anything unless you mean the words with all truth and that you have cemented plans and will put those words into action.” You gently warned with a look of sorrow.

“No I swear on my life and the lives of my family, what I say is in all truth and I will absolutely follow through, I will use no one but Noah for the rest of the season and for every season after this till the end of my days and I will pay him very well for it, so that he and his family may be kept in safety and security.” Mick swore solemnly.

“Your words please me and the gods, may you feel peace and happiness and enjoy nothing but success with the fulfillment of this vow. May I give you a gift?” You proposed.

“I will accept anything you wish to give me.” Mick answered earnestly.

“I will read the tea leaves for you and wish to give you a charm.” You proposed.

“I would be honored.” He agreed before you pulled out the reading plate and swished the remaining tea in the pot around before you poured the remains onto the center of the plate and watched as the tea leaves flowed out into the plate as the both of you watched to see where the tea leaves fell on the plate before you used your extensive training to read them to him. Usually people paid quite a bit of money to have this done by Olga and people used the information as if it was doctrinal truth, above questioning or reproach and Mick seemed perfectly pleased and excited about what the tea leaves told on the plate.

No sooner had you finished before both of your phones chimed, messages that the plane was already filled with the shipment.

You took a few moments to rinse your plate off in the sink after both Mick and yourself took a picture of it and as you rinsing it, Mick was making sure to cut Noah’s check. Mick usually paid half upon arrival and loading and then the other half upon successful delivery. This time Mick would be doubling both payments and made a note to always do this in the future as he fingered the gold charm you had given him that he immediately put onto a gold chain around his neck before his own phone went off, suddenly he was getting payments and offers from new vendors as he felt elated as he quickly prayed for forgiveness for slighting Noah in the past by undercutting him before he rejoined you as you finished packing up everything so he could walk you back and hand his payment to Noah.

“Oh and Mick, I should warn you. If you ever break your vow, the charm will tarnish and you will lose what you gained and even would have gained will immediately go to your competition. And once it’s lost, it can not be regained.” You warmed him solemnly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Priestess.” Mick reassured you as he walked you back over to the plane.

“May safety, security and blessings be with you Priestess,” Mick offered you graciously.

“And with you.” You answered before you nodded and turned to get back on the plane, giving Noah a meaningful look with a pleased smile before Mick happily handed over the folded check to Noah and an apology for not using him sooner but quickly set up a deal to use him at least every week and a reassurance that if Noah ever needed anything at all, to let Mick know.

“Of course, well, uh, I better get going, you have my number, just let me know what you need.” Noah returned before he got back into the plane and got ready to go before he peeked at the check before he put it into his payment bag.

“Well that went well, I would say he’s your new model client.” You smiled proudly.

“How?” Noah asked curiously.

“Manta Olga charges anywhere from 3 to ten thousand dollars for the kind of tea ceremony I just had with him and to get a tea reading with her is booked up anywhere from three to 9 months in advance because she is the high priestess at her temple. Minor priestesses and newbies like me usually make a tiny fraction of that. And honestly if all I’m out is a few scoops of my favorite tea, it’s worth it to me- to help ensure that you and Sakura especially will be ok and taken care of, long after I leave and can’t ensure it with my own hands.” You confessed as you fiddled with the fringe of your shawl because you suddenly didn’t have the strength to look at him.

Meanwhile the words were trying to eat their way out of Noah’s mouth to assure you and reassure you that you would be more than welcome to try. That he would follow you to the ends of the earth to give you as many chances as you wanted and needed to try. But then his radio went nuts trying to receive multiple messages all at once. All of these clients begging for his help to fly loads as you prepared yourself to repeat this process over and over and over today, as many times as it would take to make sure that Noah would be the most popular and sought after pilot the Frozen Tundra ever saw and prayed that your endeavors would bring Noah untold and unimaginable success.

Word spread quickly that a ‘priestess of Aura’ was with Noah and that she was giving free tea readings in exchange for business with Noah and Noah was getting money hand over fist as his payment envelope was close to bursting again, much like your bladder half the time because this tea, while beautiful and delicious, ran through you but you were getting better with every reading, like riding a bike and it was all coming back to you with ease. Like this is what you did all day every day and you had a lot of fun too and Noah made three loops around the state and flew from the morning till well into the night and every time you took tea with all these clients, they were more than happy to feed you a snack too. Mostly prepared by their wives to feed you and Noah and Noah counted himself lucky enough to sit in on a few of them while he ate lunch and dinner and gratefully drank some tea with you, enjoying the tea quite a bit.

On the final flight home, you finally got to take off the jewelry, your ears practically tears of joy that they weren’t weighed down anymore as your chest was much lighter without the necklace on it as you gradually took the beads and headbands out of your hair before you stretched your neck before you put it all away back into the blessing bag.

“There you are.” Noah murmured appreciatively, happy to see Zahnochka receed and his Zara come back to the forefront which made you giggle.

“Yup, here I am.” You answered before you got a makeup cloth out of your backpack and wiped off all the makeup and false lashes which were itching your eyelids.

“Did you really have to put all that makeup on?” Noah asked as he saw a ton of purple come off.

“Most priestesses of Aura are of Siberian and Eastern Europa descent where the indigo violet orcs and dark elves which are just about the same color-originated from. The closer I look physically to them, the more people believe my authenticity as one. My first tea reading didn’t go well because I didn’t look purple enough and the client thought they weren’t getting an authentic reading. Thanks to the wonders of makeup, once I was able to get my complexion purple enough, people stopped questioning my authenticity despite Olga vouching for me. Even now I’m listed under the priestesses of Aura website as a chastnyy, or private priestess. Which means I don’t “officially” serve at any one temple even though I am in the same order that Olga is in. It just makes it eaiser for me. Same thing with the accent, it just helps me play the part. It doesn’t make it any less real but there are theatrics that come with it.” You explained.

“Well maybe I’m weird but I’d rather have Zara with me in this cockpit than Zahnochka any day. She’s cool and all but I just like you better.” Noah confessed.

“Awww, thank you. Zahnochka is...I’ll be honest, she’s exhausting. She’s fun but tiresome after a while. But thank you for not getting annoyed or intimaded by her.” You confessed.

“Nope, not at all. So what are you doing tomorrow?” Noah asked.

“I don’t have any plans.” You answered.

“Well I actually ran all the loads today that I was supposed to run tomorrow. So technically I have tomorrow off and I would really like to take you fishing if you’d be up for it.” Noah offered, remembering his mother’s advice.

“YES!” You immediately agreed with a bright, nearly blinding smile. “I would love to.” You answered.

“We could even take Sakura too, I think with your encouragement, she might get over her squamishness with worms.” He added and grinned when your whole being practically lit up at the very idea.

“Perfect.” You beamed, feeling super excited for tomorrow.

#Jewel of the north #Jewel Of The North Part 4 #modern orcs #modern orc love story #ice orcs #jewel orcs #siberian amythyst orcs #so many #Noah and Zara #my new otp #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #orc reader insert #male monster female reader #modern fantasy fic #I would prefer this reality to my own ngl

25 notes · View notes

noro-noro-noro · 3 years

Text

I had a lot of dreams but only remember 4

1: bus time

2: escaping the evil influencer house

3: still in the house but it belongs to this girl's weird family now

4: bugs in the car

i: something about taking the buses home from school. it was a different bus than I was used to again & once I got on the bus it was pixelated outside. I first accidentally sat next to a super fat guy but bus seats are small so I was like here sorry I'll move so we have more space he was wearing red. I remember we were originally good ng home, but I got off the bus in a neighborhood I didn't recognize at sunset. the sky was yellow & etc. we ended up going back to school but the bus insides were even smaller so it was difficult to carry everything plus I had a violin for some reason. we had to walk around the track - take a lap once before we could put our stuff down & sit. now we were at summer camp that I used to go to/be a camp counselor at.

ii: kind of like a hype house scenario thing with a bunch of influencers living together & I was CHOSEN to go there. it was originally my mom's house but with modifications. all the furniture was hooked up to something? you could tell the furniture where to move to & where to go & what color you wanted it to be etc. first it was pretty fun just having all this stuff, but it turned out all the men here were freaks & james charles was the ringleader - every woman who lived here he would arrange a scenario with the other men to make the women specifically look bad & then he'd make a statue of them getting assaulted. so really cool & normal. this other girl daniella who was my bestie in the house had originally sold her wedding ring of her dead fiance for money to try & start her own business, but after we figured out what was going on she wanted to buy her ring back & leave. I told her I'd leave with her after I took a shower, but james charles caught her. the butler of the house was fortunately on our side & he had admin privileges over the AI furniture so he was able to keep us safe & etc while me & a lot of the other girls were plotting & scheming on escape.

iii: kind of similar in my mom's house again but didn't have famous weirdos. there was a small girl in my room wearing an XXL blue shirt that said some really funny stuff on it in white arial, so I offered to trade her 2 of my shirts for her shirt & she agreed! she picked out a gray bandeau top (I've never owned one of those before) & an orange tank top & I let her borrow a really cool black & yellow bomber jacket that I wish I owned so she wouldn't get cold. she wanted to dance around so I opened up twitch to stream dancing around & the nut stomp guy showed up in my channel with an alt account & I immediately stopped streaming bc I couldn't figure out how to block him. the little girl's family moved in & started taking over everything - we had to ask to get snacks from the fridge or the pantry, we had to pay to do anything, etc etc. I just started blatantly stealing to prove a point & they started chasing me, but I had built secret rooms in the house to hide in with my sister so they never found us. lied from iruma-kun was there

iv: escaping? driving on the highway. some stereotypical nerdy white guy was driving & there was an older guy in the passengers seat who had the vibe of a camp counselor even though I never looked at him. me & this other girl were making resin insects in the backseat - or at least I was, pouring resin on bugs we'd caught so we could sell them later. the bugs were really wrong sized - butterflies the size of my pinky fingernail or grasshoppers that were huge. she was making dioramas with them, except she wasn't killing them first. I thought she was setting up cute landscapes in small tubes for the bugs until I saw she wasn't killing them. if you're going to make a diorama with bugs, you have to kill them in a kill jar & then pin them in place. otherwise they'll either suffocate or starve in there & also probably shit everywhere too. anyway I wanted to put a grasshopper in resin but we didn't have a kill jar & it was still alive, so she was like "ok just pour it on I'll hold it" except she didn't hold it because she was afraid of it. it was a 6 inch long grasshopper that turned into an 8 inch long praying mantis shaped thing (it wasn't quite a mantis it was fucked up& really big) & she screamed & dropped it on the floor of the car. I scooped it back up & tried to hang it back to her, but the mantis suddenly made a high pitched sound & flexed its 2?? proboscises at us & they were like 10 inches of additional length & furled & unfurled like a kazoo. the guy who was driving turned around to see & the mantis(?) attacked his tongue as he was opening his mouth & crawled inside of it. he instinctively bit down & ate its head. his lips were bleeding & I was like dude omg are you okay?? & took the headless dead mantis out of his mouth & he had blood on his teeth as he was answering & then I woke up.

scraps: I was in prague again I think planning my trip back home? There was also a race. We were staying in a weird hotel.

#dreams

2 notes · View notes

anhed-nia · 4 years

Text

BLOGTOBER PRE-GAME 9/30/2020: 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE/CONFESSIONAL (2019)

Spoiler alert. Or whatever. It’s not going to matter, you don’t care.

So, I've been away for a minute. Just about any reason to be away from Tumblr is probably a good reason, but I have an especially good one. I'm finally working on a "real" writing project, which demands, and deserves, all of my attention. My social media abstinence isn't just a matter of time management, though. Once I had a long term obligation on my plate, I became very aware of how the short term satisfaction I get from posting mindless rants was eating away at the fuel I have available for sustained efforts. When I wind myself up with a 500-1000 word blog post, it generates a lot of electricity, but I blow it all as soon as I experience the catharsis of posting it, and I'm further pacified by ego-stroking likes and reblogs. Not to sound like a sanctimonious luddite--I mean, I'm still here, after all!--but it turns out that the staying focused on the long haul has been surprisingly revivifying. In fact, I haven't been talking about my big fancy project for the same reason; I don't want to lose any of the juice I've been storing up by wasting it on the shallow pleasure of describing it. Also such things should probably be somewhat confidential until they're approaching the publishing stage, but I digress! There is an actual reason I'm saying all this, that has more to do with this blog.

(Don’t get all excited, I’m not doing EVIL ED right now, I just need a relatable image.)

As I got deeper into my experience of "real" film writing, I started to reflect on the meaning of my personal writing. Like, the point of it. I tend to write in a sweaty, compulsive, sadomasochistic haze, in which I'm sometimes hyperbolically generous, and sometimes--perhaps more often, unfortunately--as nasty as humanly possible. Sometimes the movies deserve it, when they're lazy, pretentious, or otherwise demonstrate an open contempt for the audience aka ME. Often, though, I'm just creating an opportunity to vent my generalized rage and frustration. That can be very entertaining for myself and (hopefully) my teensy-but-devoted readership, but lately I've asked myself whether there isn't some negative tradeoff for all this amusement. In this phase of my life, it's reasonable to assume I'll make more and more friends and acquaintances who create things I don't always care for, but I don't necessarily think they deserve to be abused for it. As much as I have a right to say whatever I want, technically, I'd be embarrassed if I were caught just jacking myself off by making fun of their work in public. And more to the point, I don't necessarily want to contribute to the growing atmosphere in which people feel more afraid to try and fail, because the public so commonly misidentifies sarcasm and mean-spiritedness as intelligence and superiority, and that form of petty darkness spreads across the internet a lot faster than a movie can reach a wider audience. After all, I'm in the process of potentially turning myself into one of those well-meaning failures right now. I could stand to be a little more deliberate about how I speak, and about what, in general.

My father is an art critic, and once in an extra petulant moment, teenage-me asked him in an accusative tone what he thought the point of his profession was. He replied calmly that he wouldn't publish any comment that he didn't think the artist could make use of somehow. I don't know if he always stuck to that policy, but the thought sure stuck with me.

So anyway, over the last few months I've been giving myself a bit of an attitude adjustment, through a combination of personal reflection, and hard work on something meaningful/not for the internet. I've been feeling all proud of myself and shit, but today reminded me that any path to enlightenment is always marked by setbacks, doubt, and temptation. For today, in complete innocence (or at least a melange of innocence and ignorance, as I very much invite this type of problem), I managed to watch TWO (2) movies about an academic film-cum-psychology project, focused on a gang of college buddies who inevitably reveal what bad people they are under the unique conditions of the project, and then the project turns out to be run NOT by its presumed-dead originator, but by the originator's even-crazier lover. It's amazing how particular something can be, and still be utterly obvious and cliche. In my defense, I really tried to turn the second movie off, because it was...just instantly terrible, but the seed of suspicion had taken root--is this randomly selected movie ACTUALLY EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE PREVIOUS MOVIE?--and I just had to find out if this could be true. I suffered, deliberately, for another hour and a half, to confirm my awful hunch. I don't know how I would have felt if I had turned out to be wrong (better? worse?), but I don't have to worry about that now. Now I just have to worry about my overpowering impulse to be as ugly as possible about what I have personally subjected myself to.

(The completely deceptive poster for our not at all witchy or eerie opening feature.)

In need of a passable time-waster this afternoon, I put on 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE. Released in March of 2019, Caitlin Koller's claustrophobic black comedy feels oddly like a product of 2020. A group of estranged, middle-aged college pals of the BIG CHILL ilk--which one of the characters calls out, out loud, just so ya know--come together for a fallen comrade's funeral, only to find themselves trapped in his widow's increasingly creepy cabin in the woods. Said comrade was driven to suicide by the failure of a psychological experiment he conducted that plunged its subject into madness, and if you don't realize right away that the obnoxious and unstable cast are the new subjects of their not-quite-dead friend's renewed project, then you're firing a lot slower than 24 frames per second. The dialog is often decent, aiding a handful of funny, natural performances...but it's hard to forget that you're just waiting for the conspicuously crazy widow to reveal that the "unexplained events" in and around the cabin are part of a controlled attempt to get the guests to devolve into their worst selves, which isn't such a difficult task considering the undesirable state they all arrive in.

It just made me ask myself, what was the point of this? Why do people make movies that are entirely predicated on the shock of the twist, knowing that if the twist isn't so shocking--or is baldly obvious from the start--then the whole experience just falls apart? Why not hedge your bets with a little more depth, or purpose, or style, or really anything more reliable than a smug attempt to prove that your script is smarter than your audience? Even if you do manage to pull off this dubious accomplishment, it reduces your movie to something like the experience of having somebody jump out of a closet and scream in your ear to "get" you. I've always felt concerned that if somebody ever tries to "get" me like that, I might just automatically punch them in the face. But anyway, whatever shred of good will this movie could have accrued with its plucky performances is blown away by the final insult, when the cops arrive to clean up the inevitable bloody mess. The responding officers are hilariously unimpressed and unsurprised by the byzantine scheme that has resulted in a shocking act of violence, because the cabin's "guest book", which our heroes all filled out, was actually the signatory page of a complicated waiver form granting full permission to the hosts to, like, do whatever the hell they want to everybody. Presumably this shit just goes on all the time, leading the local law to shrug off anything that happens to or because of the dumbassed lab rats who frequent the cabin? I dunno. I mean, what can I say? ACAB, I guess!

At the time, I managed to resist the urge to take to the internet and decry the crimes of this lame-o party joke. I really don't like the sensation that a movie is just trying to trick me into thinking something that isn't true. But, this isn't, like, an affront to cinema. People make annoying, below average movies all the time, and maybe you kinda have to, if you eventually want to make better movies. I imagine myself in the shoes of the people who actually put some elbow grease into this production, having to wade through the rantings of internet ghouls like myself while they're trying to see how their efforts are paying off. Making a movie is probably a lot harder than I think it is.

But that's part of the point I'm heading toward. I'm always amazed by people's willingness to pour huge amounts of energy and capital into something to which there is ultimately very little point. I mean, I have bad, unoriginal, boring ideas every single day of my life. But I almost never DO any of them. I have a hard enough time convincing myself to just get out of bed in the morning, let alone devote blood, sweat, and money to deliver unto the world material evidence of my personal mediocrity. I can't imagine thinking it would be worth it, for myself or the unfortunate people who are subjected to my project, to actually execute on my bad ideas. I'm being judgmental, but honestly, I don't even know if my attitude makes me better or worse than someone who accomplishes the task of completing and selling a movie that's mainly a waste of time. Movies are so complicated, and realizing them requires the consensus of so many people, that it's sort of incredible that there are people capable of making one that doesn't have a powerfully compelling motivation behind it. People who are able to do such a thing obviously have something that I don't, and it isn't just "consideration for the audience."

So, I could probably stand to be more forgiving--or just, less eager to absolutely flay someone alive on my dumb little blog because they so opened themselves up to my arsenal of elaborate insults. But like...not all the time. Sometimes, a movie really fucking asks for it, and in revealing itself to me, it has effectively signed a waiver giving me patent freedom to do whatever I want to it. CONFESSIONAL is the latest movie to give me such a gift. After the final credit rolled in 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE, I looked for a little palate cleanser. As little as I like movies that put their single egg in the motheaten basket of a "shocking twist", I also have a problem with what I identify as canned theater. Not that I think all movies have to be lavish productions, but I think they should try to do something that is natively cinematic. It's very rare that I'm impressed by anything that is literally all talk. So, I went in search of some more familiar form of trash to help me recallibrate, and trash is definitely what I got.

(Me crying over my own bad decisions.)

To be fair, I kind of should have known that I was in for a challenging experience. The 2019 found footage thriller CONFESSIONAL is more or less based on the "confessional" part of sleazy reality TV shows, isolating each cast member in a soundproof stall so they can spill the rotten contents of their guts. Unfortunately, I spotted a review suggesting that the movie succeeded, against all odds, at remaining visually dynamic despite the unchanging scenery, and I was intrigued. The reviewer was correct, impressively; the monotony of the coffin-like environment with its dark foam walls was the least of my concerns. Other problems superseded that threat, immediately. The plot concerns a group of college pals who come together to remember a recently deceased friend--a filmmaker who expired mysteriously while completing a psychology-tinged project in which she recorded all of her friends' most shameful personal secrets. Now, somebody else has taken over the project...someone who "has never been identified", according to an early title card in this movie-within-a-movie (EVEN THOUGH THIS PERSON WILL BE EXPLICITLY IDENTIFIED AT THE END OF THE MOVIE SO LIKE WHY), but who seems likely to be the decedent's ex-lover...who continues to expose their subjects' most shameful secrets on film. I mean, what the fuck? Did I somehow manage to pick a second movie with almost the exact same plot??? I couldn't believe it. I didn't know if I could take it. My prospects only got worse when the cast showed up and started talking. I tried to turn the movie off. I backed out and walked away from it, twice. But I couldn't leave it alone. I had to know if it was really the same movie.

CONFESSIONAL concerns characters who are contemporaneously in college, which actually goes a long way to making everything worse. Each of these walking cliches is connected in some way to Amelia, a film student whose mysterious death has created a campus scandal, leaving shattered hearts and lives in its wake. The living have each received a blackmail-flavored invitation to speak about the deceased in a tiny "confessional booth" somewhere on campus, where, predictably, they find themselves locked in until they confess whatever they know about Amelia, and their classmates. I don't know why practically every single movie about young people has to be so miserable, but this is one of those. I assume that it has something to do with the fact that youth is simultaneously so desired and so ignored. People in their teens and early 20s are so sexually coveted, yet so easily dismissed as individuals, that we wind up with all this media that panders to them relentlessly (or at least, panders to the legions of ticket-buying perverts who enjoy watching them prance around), without almost any consideration of how they actually think and act, and look. Movies like FAT GIRL and WELCOME TO THE DOLL HOUSE may be accused of their own form of pandering, a venal form of voyeuristic schadenfreude, but at least they reflect something of the awkwardness, isolation, and incompleteness of adolescence; something more than the dissociated, pornographic fantasies of adults who have long since forgotten what it was like to be powerless and ignored, or desired by people who don't even like you.

Not that CONFESSIONAL is supposed to be a work of grim realism, but it is most definitely rooted in a fantasy about college life that makes its contrived, message-y plot a lot harder to take. With almost the sole exception of "the nerdy one", every single character looks like a Bratz doll, oozing an exaggerated indecency that belies the movie's pretentious insistence on addressing the sex & gender Issues of the Day. What you get is a really good example of what happens when millennial characters are modeled, not on any actual millennials, but on other forms of marketing that are aimed at millennials, which are themselves just based on other preexisting youth-targeted commercials, et al ad nauseam. Even setting aside the deliriously slutty wardrobe choices, makeup appears to have been laid on with a trowel, coating each actor in a thick creamy layer of spackle that only makes any scars, pits, or other evidence of individuality look utterly bizarre. Accordingly, everybody preens, pouts, and generally behaves as if they're about to take off their clothes, which might be a huge relief given the profusion of chafing, cheapo mesh and straps they're laboring under.

So, ok, not every movie can have a great costume department, but the dialog here is a perfect match for the disastrous aesthetic decisions. Actually, this is the real reason I almost walked out on CONFESSIONAL. If I may ramble briefly, without substantiating any of my broad-ranging claims: Sometime in the late 90s/early 00s, horror cinema seemed to suffer a degenerative slide away from genuine thrills and chills, and into a version of the genre that is best characterized as the Slutty Halloween Costume approach. Any sense of existential dread, revulsion, or bodily vulnerability was widely replaced by a cutesy, Hot Topic-y preference for fast fashion and sex appeal, in which bloodshed more facilitated an informal wet teeshirt contest than any real fear induction. Horror's new mall goth look came with an equally shallow, boring verbal affectation: a sullen, sleazy, tooth-sucking sarcasm, that ushered in a new era in which, instead of making fun of the scummy coked-out dialog in porno movies, we now expect everybody to just talk like that, because it's hot. There's probably a line to be drawn between this unfortunate development, and the boneheaded real-world trend of identifying "sarcasm" as an important personal selling point on dating sites, but I won't try to prove that here. For now, I will just say that as soon as I heard the CONFESSIONAL characters start to speak, with their sneering, insinuating tones, with the vocal fry, with the head wagging, the jutting jaws, the smoldering gazes, the juvenile dragging-out of horny grownup words like de-bauch-er-y...I almost lost my nerve. Listening to these little creeps hissing and spitting for 84 minutes is a lot like being hit on by some barfly who continues to bludgeon you with his hot breath and corny lines without ever noticing that you've thrown up into your pint.

Uh, anyway. So what actually happens in the movie. Why would anyone ever allow someone to record video of them revealing the ugliest, most embarrassing parts of themselves? Especially a kid, for whom popularity and reputation are often a matter of life or death--literally and specifically, in the case of this story. The flimsy reason is that the late filmmaker, Amelia, was the most awesomest girl ever. Everybody loved her, because she was so sweet, and so smart, and so cool, and so nice, and so deep, and so original, and so talented, and so sexy, and just like, the bestest most perfectest girl in the whole wide world. N.B. "The greatest of all time" is, perhaps counter-intuitively, a really bad quality that makes for really shitty, boring characters. For better or worse, Amelia is rarely on screen (and when she is, she's no Laura Palmer, frankly), so it's up to the viewer to just sort of imagine a type of person who could make you act against your best interests on account of you just like them so much. After all, so many of the characters were obsessed with her in some way, that it's like they're here to help you clap your hands and believe in this seductive, compelling part of the movie, that just isn't actually there on the screen. The anonymous antihero behind the confessional booth scheme slowly extracts from each character the selfish, destructive behavior that in some way contributed to the tragic loss of the most amazing person of all time--and part of the result is, if not a very interesting excuse for Amelia's death, then a story so wacky that I really wish they had centered the movie on it, instead of on the tawdry soap opera we're locked into. Even if that imaginary movie had been really bad, and it probably would have been, at it would at least have been entertaining.

Part of what leads up to the death of Amelia is the existence of a secret school fight club, led by a stereotypically sleazy gender studies major, named Major, who is out to prove men's inherent superiority. The club is called CFB, or Cock Fights Back, which is somehow a garbled pun relating to cock fights, and Trump's famous line of "locker room talk": "grab'em by the pussy" > "pussy grabs back" > "cock fights back". CFB is different from your ordinary fight club in that the fights are always between girls and boys, and the boys are always blindfolded, in order to prove that a fully-abled female is no match for even a handicapped male. To complicate things, a new designer amphetamine is gaining popularity on campus, called "odds-on", meaning that it makes you the odds-on favorite in your CFB fight. As awkward as that is, it also seems that men are never the guaranteed winners of these fights, which makes you wonder why Major insists on continuing to host them. As much as I would have preferred to watch a stupid movie about this stupid idea, I'm stuck instead with a movie in which Major is such an aggressive MRA because he's secretly gay, and he thinks that hating women is a great way to hide that...as if that isn't what we all openly suspect about aggro MRAs. Secret gayness is a big part of this movie, involving multiple characters, although it amounts to very little other than the perpetuation of some stale, harmful cliches about how unfulfilled homosexual urges lead to suicide, sexual abuse, and murder. CONFESSIONAL is just as reliant on this grim vision of gay life, as it is on its weirdly obtuse discussion of drug addiction, for the suffocating sense of self-importance that it uses to try to elevate itself above its porn-y trappings. None of the movie's hot button issues are given any real thought, but are only dragged through the mud to create the illusion that there's a point to all this, thus relieving the film of any sense of innocence that could have made its condescending sleaziness forgivable.

Admittedly, I can't really remember all the details of the film's tortured intrigue anymore, even though I basically just saw it. A lot of its meandering revelations just left me thinking, "Why did I need to know that? Why should I care?" I do know that about half way through this ordeal, I became really anxious about whether it would turn out that CONFESSIONAL did NOT have exactly the same plot as 30 MILES FROM NOWHERE after all, and I put myself through all this for nothing. But no, I was right to begin with. The wonderful Amelia's ethically dubious film project has been picked up by the unhinged lesbian character who loved her so much she wanted to become her, and killing Amelia and usurping her confessional project was apparently the best way of doing that. I guess exposing all the dark, violent secrets of all these tangentially involved characters was just an added bonus, or whatever. Ultimately, this ugly, ignorant PSA about something-or-other only deals itself further damage by relying so heavily on the potential of its clumsy twist to blow your mind, which it does not at all.

So that was it, that's how I burned a whole afternoon allowing my mind to implode-not-explode under the ponderous force of TWO (2) movies about exactly the same exhausted cliche that is still being peddled by certain pretentious assholes as fresh and exciting, and beyond the capacity of the audience to anticipate. There's probably a whole slew of other movies that employ this overly familiar "surprise", but I don't have it in me to dig them out of my long-suffering brain. Feel free to contribute in the comments. For now, I must prepare myself for the ordeal of Blogtober, during which I will *hopefully* choose my screening selections and words more thoughtfully than I have in previous years, when this blog was motivated by just as much abject misanthropy as these movies, which do nothing but willfully insult the audience's intelligence. Maybe today's detour into degradation will help me go forth toward more additive experiences, having purged several lungfuls of meaningless venom from my system, and this season will bring with it more interesting, provocative posts than the last. Or maybe not! In any case, I promise to keep trying my hardest to make it funny.

PS I actually love both FAT GIRL and WELCOME TO THE DOLLHOUSE. I’m “just saying”.

#blogtober #2020 #confessional #2019 #30 miles from nowhere #horror #thriller #black comedy #found footage #brad t gottfred #jennifer wolfe #jennifer bosworth #caitlin koller

10 notes · View notes

supergay-supergirl · 4 years

Text

why supergirl season 5 was actually good: sort of an essay

This has been sitting in my sticky notes for months and I figured now that I have a Supergirl blog, I can actually post it.

People love hating on Supergirl Season 5. And I get it. I admit that it had a lot of problems. But I did like the season overall, and there's enough out there about Season 5’s problems, so here is a post about some things that were great about Season 5!

1. Lena’s Arc

Apparently everyone hates how this was executed, but I really liked it. I like how 5A allows her to scheme and lie and altogether explore the darker (Luthor) side of herself, because only after experiencing what she’s been afraid of becoming can she fully come to know herself. I like how in 5x07, she gets to scream and cry, to express to Supergirl how much she’s hurting, and how betrayed she feels. I like how in 5x13, Kara finally accepts that Lena joining Lex was not her fault, and that she didn’t deserve to be manipulated (“From now on, you’re accountable for your own actions.”). I like Lena’s growing obsession with erasing human pain through 5B and the fact that we know exactly where her motivations come from, and we feel for her because we’ve seen how much pain she’s in herself -- but at the same time, we can still oppose her ultimately villainous actions, which leads us to hope for her redemption. (A lot of this is due to Katie McGrath’s stellar acting as well.)

I love how the season shows just how much Lex’s continual abuse and manipulation affects her, and shows her standing up to him at the end. I wish they had focused more on Lena instead of pushing her aside in favor of Lex in 5B, but overall I liked how they expanded on the Luthor sibling relationship from Season 4, even if it was missing some of the complexity of the previous season. And finally, I love the way Lena fights so hard to regain Kara’s trust in 5x19 (and succeeds!). It felt like there was more of a balance between the two starting from 5x13, where previously it had always been Kara apologizing and trying to gain Lena’s trust.

2. Supergirl’s New Look

PANTS. PANTS. PANTS. PANTS.

For Season 4, Kara the Reporter got a more professional wardrobe as she began to mentor Nia, and the switch to pants feels like the same thing for Supergirl. It completes the transition from “young adult” to just “adult.” It may have been reasonable to call Kara a “girl” in Season 1, but by now, she is an adult woman, and I’m glad that her wardrobe reflects that.

I was opposed to Kara’s bangs at the beginning of the season, but they have definitely grown on me. Like the pants, I think they mark an important change in Supergirl’s character, one that is better appreciated by the audience than the characters. Now, when I rewatch previous seasons, I think, “Wow, Kara looks so different now.” I didn’t think that when I rewatched episodes after Season 4. The bangs are a way to identify Adult Kara as having changed a lot from how she was at the beginning, and like the pants, I feel like they complete her transition into adulthood.

(But are the writers expecting us to believe that nobody who knows Kara would be suspicious that Kara and Supergirl got bangs on the exact same day? Seriously.)

3. Eve Teschmacher

In Season 4, Eve Teschmacher was a brilliant, eager-to-please young woman who (whoops) turned out to be evil. And she was great. But I was dissatisfied with her betrayal because it came so out of the blue, and it was a complete 180 without much buildup at all. Season 5 gave her the humanity that she was lacking, first with her mom, then with her desperation not to have to kill. Not to mention, some pretty badass fight scenes.

4. J’onn’s Swagger

J’onn’s storyline in Season 5 is not nearly as deep as in Season 4, and I see that as a good thing. Season 4 J’onn was wonderful and necessary, but in a season that has a lot of strong development for Kara and Lena, it was nice to have a relatively static character who’s at a good place in his life. Season 4 let J’onn discover the man he wanted to be, and David Harewood brings a new confidence to Season 5 as a result of that. It’s fun to watch him strut around in his supersuit and say normal things as if they’re great proclamations. It’s nice to see the happy, healthy adult relationship between him and M’gann. The easy trust they have with each other causes them to act more like they’re married than dating, as opposed to the younger characters who are often caught up in relationship drama.

5. Kelly Therapy Face

All the characters need a therapist, and they finally got one! Well, Kelly is technically a psychologist, which I believe means she could be a therapist but is not necessarily? I don’t know things. Anyway, it’s nice to have a calm, supportive presence in the group, and this effect is helped by Kelly Therapy Face. Kelly Therapy Face is the face Kelly makes when she’s listening to you talk about your problems. Kelly Therapy Face and her generally calm presence bring down the interpersonal drama of the group and solidify the idea that all these people are growing into full adults, with adult relationships and adult responses to issues. Their emotions are stabilizing, they’re building stronger support systems, and they’re gaining a better understanding of how the world works and their places in it.

This is more of a Season 4 thing -- this season really didn’t give Kelly the screentime she deserved -- but I also love how even though Kelly acts as a source of support for others, her own fear and trauma are rarely glossed over (see: the end of 5x05). This gives Kelly a humanity and realistic quality that many emotional-support characters don’t get. It also shows the key difference between Dansen and Sanvers: whenever Alex and Maggie had conflict, they swept it aside rather than working through it, leading to their eventual breakup, but when Alex and Kelly have conflict, they listen to each other and try to fix it. In accordance with their adult-ness, Alex and Kelly also seem to be in agreement that it’s okay to have conflict in their relationship (“And I might not know every little detail about you yet, but I know you,” 5x02).

6. Reality Bytes

Calling attention to violence against trans folk, exploring Dreamer’s dark side, and showing the strength of Kara and Nia’s mentor-student relationship in one episode? Just. Yes. Either Nicole Maines was projecting a lot or she’s a really good actor (probably both), but either way, as a trans person, I felt this episode on a personal level: the anger, fear, and frustration at knowing that your community is being targeted and the people you’re supposed to trust (i.e. the police) are probably not going to do anything about it. Additionally, Kara and Nia’s conflict in 5x15, and the fact that Kara compares Nia’s experience to her own, is a great marker of how far Kara has come. In Season 1, Supergirl felt a similar anger and hurt when villains sought her out, but by now, she’s more at peace and can offer Dreamer reassurance and comfort.

7. Brainy’s Plot

Brainy’s storyline in Season 5 is nice because it manages to remain stable as an important, but secondary, plot. It enhances the sense that there’s more going on than we realize and gives us a view into the scheming of the villains, while not taking over too much screentime or audience brainspace.

8. Jon Cryer

As annoying as it is that the writers gave up a lot of Lena’s screentime to Lex, Jon Cryer’s performance in Season 5 is just wonderful. He can go from acting totally in control to screaming in a matter of seconds. Lex Luthor is witty, assured, and charming in a weird way. On the other side of his personality, he is a madman who cares about no one’s interests but his own. Jon Cryer’s acting manages to package all this great but conflicting writing into a brilliant, awful, occasionally sympathetic villain who has more than his share of awesome (and terrifying) scenes.

9. Alex’s Grief

I like that Alex gets to let go of her emotions a little this season and express herself. Especially when Jeremiah dies before 5x16, Alex has a really tough time (and a mention of her possibly drinking problem! Expand, please!). She tries to escape from the pain of real life through virtual reality, but eventually realizes that she has to face her pain rather than avoid it, which is a major theme of the season. What’s great about 5x16 and the next couple episodes is that the other characters allow her to grieve. They could have told her to get over it and see all the happiness in the real world — it would have fit with the theme — but instead, they support Alex as she grieves. They listen without judgement when she expresses her anger that Jeremiah left and forced her to take care of Kara. Kara and Kelly are (mostly) understanding when Alex doesn’t want to go to Jeremiah’s funeral, and when Alex arrives late at the end of the episode, Kara lets her know how much she appreciates that Alex came at all. Throughout her life, Alex hasn’t had much opportunity to be herself and express her emotions, an idea that’s repeated over and over again starting from her coming-out arc in Season 2 or even earlier. Now that Kara can for the most part take care of herself and Alex has a good support system, she finally gets the opportunity to be vulnerable.

10. Andrea Rojas’s Moral Ambiguity

Is Andrea good or bad? Neither. She’s a person who wants love, success, and money, who does sketchy things to promote her company but also fights fiercely for her father and cares about the safety of her technology. Before Andrea, Lena was the main morally ambiguous character, and she could be categorized as “playing for her own team.” However, Andrea goes a step further, crossing into a territory I would call “not playing a game at all.” She’s just a human being trying to have a good life, and that causes her to do good things, bad things, and everything in between. In a show that often accentuates the difference between heroes and villains (“Don’t let them down by stooping to his level,” 5x15), Andrea is a reminder that most people aren’t good or bad -- they’re just living their lives.

TL;DR: They’re all adults now and Lena needs a hug.

#supergirl #supergirl season 5 #kara danvers #lena luthor #j'onn j'onzz #kelly olsen #dansen #nia nal #dreamer #brainiac 5 #alex danvers #andrea rojas

16 notes · View notes

the-mic-drop · 4 years

Audio

Shonen Jump Rap Cypher by Rustage

Lyrics below the cut

If anyone wants to break down some lines that you think not everyone will get, please feel free!

Monkey D. Luffy- One Piece (Performed by Rustage)

Starting with the number one, hey

How’d a pirate get this long, hey

‘Cause I eat the gum-gum, see them run run

when I hit that gun, hey

Sailin’ I’m taking no breaks when my crew’s on the move as we pillage the grand line

Looting the treasure we can find

I’m blowing up like a landmine

Going gear second, I reckon that I’m a weapon

I’m wrecking up those who threaten in messing with my own brethren

Stay reppin’ look where I’m headin’

No question the Yonkos sweatin’

I’m bettin’ in words I’m yellin’

I’m the king and there’s no forgettin’, UH

Gon Freecss- Hunter x Hunter (Performed by Fabvl)

I’ll jump the competition, really there’s no contest

Channeled future Nen and most of y’all ain’t even bomb yet

It’s nonsense

Pro exams completed as a child

Hisoka, I think these clowns are living in denial

So don’t make me power up, I’ll call the thunder at my right hand

If you want the strongest Shonen, then you called the right man

They might stan

Treat you all like Pitou, it won’t take long

Name is Gon and this time, I’mma make sure that you stay gone

Naruto Uzumaki- Naruto (Performed by None Like Joshua)

Oh, better believe it’s Naruto

Who’s the best hero? All of you know

My legacy is happening, I got a type of running named after me

while you’re slow

Can’t keep up with my chakra flow

Except Hinata, I’m her Ho

Kage

All I did was call her and I told her to come over ‘cause my parents are not home

Out of these ninjas, you can watch my dub

Even all my filler is so far above

When it comes to Boruto, why y’all givin’ up

like I did with simpin’ on Sakura?

Killer B’s rapping, but I get the encore

With the power that I bring, I don’t really want yours

‘Cause I came from the swing, everybody shunned more

Now you’re looking at the king of this Jump Force

Yami Yugi- Yu-Gi-Oh! (Performed by Connor Quest!)

I’mma master, you be

practice newbies

That’s a doozy

for Yami Yugi

Puzzle did something like a hadron tunnel

‘cause now I got Atem through me

Champ of the match see fans fawn, no matter what hand’s drawn

I’m kicking up dust, metal tanks in land form

When we d-d-d-d-duel there’s sandstorms

Cards are flippin’ I need an answer quick

and I might find my Dark Magician

If I wish, and believe hard enough in the heart that’s in ‘em

(Heart of the cards)

I see Seto’s fear

Pull the fifth part of Exodia

Guess it’s all came to a head, so clear

that your deck’s gonna get X’d, oh dear!

Asta- Black Clover (Performed by Eddie Rath)

Welcome to the magic

It’s a tale that’s tragic

Filled with a pain that’s harder than plastic

especially when you discover you don’t have it

When I started I was less than amazing

But now that I’ve been chosen by the Grimoir, I’m rising to the occasion in a blazing flame of

Magic

Ain’t no Hocus Pocus and Abracadabra

Not a wizard you joke with

This is not Gandalf the Grey, but you shall not pass hopeless

Better be ferocious

Was the poorest orphan living in darkness

but now that I’m focused, I be thanking all my hardships

Ichigo Kurosaki- Bleach (Performed by IBDL)

Uh, hittin’ back with that Bankai

Got that power like I came out of the Dangai

Pops passed the torch; now I’m the fam’s Don guy

Think you Aizen, but you lookin’ like that Don guy

Y’all like Soifon, your raps barely sting

My bars are Getsuga Tensho, got that masterful swing

They say, it ain’t over til the fat lady sings

But you’ll know it’s really over when that black lady sings

Koro-sensei- Assassination Classrom (Performed by CDawgVA)

Mach speed

Blow up the moon and now I’m making these children write essays

Comin with tentacles teach you a lesson in why you don’t mess with the sensei

I amaze

Used to be the Reaper, now I run this class

I can turn a loser to assassin, do it real fast

Light Yagami- Death Note (Performed by Zach Boucher)

I think I’ve been out of my head

Gift was given, made some poor decisions, that I wish I didn’t, but I’d do it again

Feeling different, I was on a mission to achieve my vision with a page and a pen

Sit and listen to the words I’ve written

I ain’t even finished ‘til I see that they’re dead

Don’t even try to pretend

There’s no malicious intent

Stay in my thoughts, stick to the morals I’ve got,

and kill everyone who is not

Just never get caught, ‘til every criminal rots

They’ll consider me as a god

At whatever cost, that’s how I excel

Cannot be stopped, even if I fell

I’m taking them off if you couldn’t tell

I gave up a lot to give you this L

Shoyo Hinata- Haikyuu!! (Performed by Shwabadi)

Yah, here comes Hinata

When I’m on the court the enemy has got their guard up

Never gonna fall off, bet I’m gonna pop off

Way short, but I’m packing punches like a sawnoff

Hot like a sauna, this ball of fire don’t know nada

but I’m gonna chase desire to go farther

every jump will take me higher

They put walls up, so I had to learn to fly

Putting up points, spiking it, or clearing the way

Best decoy, got a little something to say

to anyone that doubts that I’m here to stay

Only got one goal, that’s to play the game

Underestimated, I’m the ace, you just wait

when I spike it past the net, you might take it to the face

Izuku “Deku” Midoriya- My Hero Academia (Performed by Divide Music)

Coming in with 100% of me

I got you all trembling

Oh just with a flick of a finger

put you back where you’re supposed to be

I’m not, holding back

I got you so calculated. I’m

one step ahead, One for All gon’ be demonstrated

Get it? Got it? Good.

Nothing better and you should know

Started at the bottom

but I made it to the top so

Step aside, I’m climbing to great heights

with All-Might by my side

Reppin’ U.A. with pride, oh

Yusuke Urameshi- Yu Yu Hakusho (Performed by GameBoyJones)

Giving you the finger, Spirit Gun

Send you off with Botan, then you done

Hit you with the stick, and I didn’t need a grip when I’m pulling from the hip, then click!

Because I’m, locked loaded, the clip is ready to go

Got a, shotgun in my hand that’s ‘bout to blow

Cause I’m hittin’ you quick fast

givin’ you whiplash

wearing these Spirit Cuffs

You could be human or demon, cause honestly, I just don’t give a fuck

If you’re looking for the best, just know there’s no other

‘cause I’m flexing out here like I’m the youngest Toguro brother

Gintoki Sakata- Gintama (Perfomed by Shao Dao)

They call me, Gintoki, slim not stocky

Lemme Shonen Jump on your leg and your body

Odd Job Gin, don’t mess with my possee

If you touch my hair, then you will be sorry

Ne, boge (Hey, bloke)

Nanikore, uruseena (what is this? Not good.)

Cause you’re way too sloppy

Got a silver soul, Shiroyasha

Swing my sword and Amanto scatter

Gintama, not Kintama

Tell Shinpachi we need money

If Kagura or Katsura bring more trouble, we keep running

Pay rent? That’s a waste of time

That weather girl, I will make her mine

You can beat me up and that’s fair and fine

But if you hurt my friends, then prepare to die

Tanjiro Kamado- Demon Slayer (Performed by DizzyEight)

Look, slayin’ demons that’s what we do

If you filled with evil, then my blade is highly lethal

If you comin’ at my people, pray to god I never meet you

Ever mess with Nez, you KO’d when I see you

I’ve grown stronger from that fateful day they found me

I trained hard to hone the skill, the progression so astounding

My style like breathing water, that mean you can never drown me

Whirlpool, that mean I’m slicin’ everything around me

Emma- The Promised Neverland (Performed by FrivolousShara)

E-M-M-A 63194

Listen to what I’ve gotta say

The others walked, seems now we’ve gotta run away

Don’t you talk, adults are the enemy

You can break every bone in my body, I won’t falter

and if the plan fails, the idea simply alters

Ah, these demons scheming, but they ain’t the only monsters

Our combined IQ breaks the safe, strength in numbers

Now we’ve woken from the slumber

Never ending perfect Summers

Across the farm, you can’t help but wonder

Soma Yukihira- Food Wars! (Performed by DiggzDaProphecy)

See I’m the anime Raekwon

The chef baby, stay calm

You can’t stand the heat

Stay out the kitchen, get a day job

Word, and the finale’s superb

I take a sec, put on my band, an’ I’ll be happy to serve, uh

So ma, tell me what you like and I can hook it up

Ya boy’s got them recipes the best couldn’t cook it up

And she gon’ bust from the taste of my meat

Chef, boy are these boys always cookin’ up heat

Jotaro Kujo- Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure (Performed by Dreaded Yasuke)

It’s my go, they call me Jotaro

Don’t get me mad, I’mma go fat only with jabs you go through silos

Got that drip from Cairo, girls will simp my silhouette

I know think it’s a typo fighting with a platinum psycho

None of y’all is a threat

What you gotta say in your breath

Better speak with a bigger chest

Now you lyin’ down with my pet,

while Iggy piss on your neck

All types of disrespect, what you expect?

Go against a vet, better get your techs

wanna get swept through the complex,

now who is next?

Bobobo- Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo (Performed by BassedOlaf w/ ThighHighSenpai)

Bobobo making the foes stare

Call me the master of nose hair

Look at the hair on the heads of these anime characters,

brother, it’s no fair

But I’m better than these guys, don’t you understand?

I came second place at screaming face-to-face with desk fans

Afro is full of surprises, look at my power’s immense

Leaving beauty screaming-

(Bobobo, that makes no sense!)

Hunting hair hunters, Saitama, I’m coming for you

Don Patch a better Super Saiyan God than Goku

Son Goku- Dragon Ball (Performed by DaddyPhatSnaps)

Oh they went and called Kakarot

had to be danger

Leave em flat-footed like they in the gravity chamber

I’m just looking for a challenge, can you battle me stranger?

Shonen legend in the saddle and the power is major

Level up on the track, flow Ultra Instinct

Bye bye bye fusion dance is always in sync

Wink

And they wonder why I’m last on the song

‘Cause when all of y’all were talking

I just formed a Spirit Bomb

14 notes · View notes

redrosesartcabin · 4 years

Text

Hey peeps. I made yet another Oc for Gunmar to be associated with:

This is Merel Devlin Hecate. She’s a witch in the tales of Arcadia universe who is neither to be associated with Merlin nor Morgana. She’s neither really good nor evil, but still doesn’t hesitate to ask Gunmar to work for her when the time came. How’s she’s gonna do that? Well...

(Ps before you read the story: Since wizards hasn’t come out yet, I may not have written her accurately or some things might not make sense in the future. With that being said, I hope you enjoy my little story)

WARNING: A LOT OF SWEARING AND SOME VIOLENCE IS INVOLVED. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THAT DO NOT READ.

—————————————

Merel Devlin Hecate (Character introduction)

Merel stood before the circle she had drawn on the floor. Usually confident as she was, she tried to put on that very same facade she normally didn’t even have to force. But this time was different.

This wasn’t some quick demon summoning nor a fun little potion: she was bringing a troll back from the dead.

In Merel Devlin Hecate’s 1007 years of life, she had done a lot of questionable shit that got her almost arrested on several occasions by the good side of the wizard society and captured and enslaved by the bad.

She was neither really good nor evil.

She did whatever the fuck she wanted.

Both sides hated that, because whatever Merel planned either interfered with one or the other sides stuff. Or she didn’t participate in whatever war was going on at all and disappeared for a couple of years in a hut in the mountains and only came back when she caught wind that what she considered “Bullshit” had passed. The air clear again to pollute with new chaos she could create.

And she was amazing at it.

Merel had always just been a talented witch. And any witch or wizard that was talented at their craft took it upon themselves to make their own destiny. Be it evil, like Morgana, or good, like Merlin (though if he is as good as he praises himself to be is questionable).

And Merel? Well she decided she was tired of people and help whoever she thought was right at the time. Sometimes she would pop up by Morgana's- and sometimes at Merlin’s “Fanclub”. Both usually took her offer to help, since she brought so much to the table. They however learned throughout the decades and centuries to never fully trust her.

Merel knew they didn’t trust her though and she was fine with that. She knew she would get out of trouble somehow.

Until today.

After 1007 years of life, the time had come where she was unsure about what she was doing, and if it was going to work.

She was going to resurrect a troll. And not just any: Gunmar the black.

Gunmar. The. FUCKING. Black.

One would say she had lost her mind to try out such dark magic.

And what for even?

Well: She got into trouble. But not the usual “oh that one wizard/witch is mad” where she would just put together a little illusion potion to clear her tracks and disappear before anyone could even touch her. She was now officially wanted.

And not in the nice kinda sense.

Merlin figured out, after defeating Morgana, that Merel (apparently) assisted and befriended several changelings, which, indirectly, led to a successful construction of the Killahead bridge. The old man then got really sour over that and declared that she was an official enemy of the wizard state. And since Morgana is supposingly gone (at least for the time being) the wizards that assisted Morgana's cause were also wanted or already captured, so she wouldn’t get support from there either. Not for any money or sleazy trick in the world that she could give.

‘The bastard must’ve waited for a moment like this’, she had thought to herself and felt anger arise in her.

For all the evil shit that Morgana had done, and that Merel would never forgive her for, Morgana would’ve chased her down immediately, if she had been truly mad at her. If she would’ve ever figured out her schemes (which she obviously didn’t, or if she did, she did not much care). Morgana was straightforward; if she was mad at you, she’d let you know right away.

Merlin however, that little motherfucker, made it out to be like she was “so” neutral towards her, like she was towards him. They made deals if needed be and didn’t if there was no need and just didn’t talk at all. But now that little son of a bitch had all the power, he was out for her, chasing her down like a dog ‘cause he had the power now.

At first she didn’t know what to do. The illusions wouldn’t hold them off forever.

But now she had it, the perfect plan. She would resurrect, or rather summon, Gunmar, who would thusly be bound to her. She could control an evil, powerful bastard and scare the living shit out of Merlin AND regain her position as free witch back, whilst also kinda punishing Gunmar for his shit.

It was a perfect plan, but sadly complicated: There was no say if this would actually work.

Nobody had ever resurrected a troll. Except for Morgana of course, who had resurrected Angor Rot countless of times. That however was an entirely different story, since Angor’s soul was bound to a Ring that Morgana had created and could control BEFORE the first time he died.

Gunmars soul was a free one however. He died with his soul in his body, as a being only bound to himself.

But Merel would try to resurrect him from the deepest depth of hell to where he surely had been condemned to, summon him to be bound to her magic and do as she pleased with his being.

It’s what Gunmar deserved.

And it’s what Merlins hypocritical ass deserved.

He and his little, pathetic, servant-like wizard army deserved the biggest scare of all time, because one thing's for sure: Nobody fucks over Merel like that and would get away with it so easily.

She may be no Merlin or Morgana, but unlike them she was free, not bound to a cause or any expectation. There was no limit to what she could and couldn’t do, and she would use that to her advantage.

Merel sat down before the circle. The light of the burning candles illuminating her pale skin in a way that made the scene all the more mysterious looking.

As she sat down, her yellow skirt surrounded her legs in a silky smooth motion and her black, slightly see through crop top with the beautiful rose pattern and frilly sleeves accentuated her upper body perfectly: She felt amazing, even with the fear still eating her insides out.

“I’m ready”, she whispered to herself as she combed her black, long fingernails through her dark blue to dark red ombré, voluminous chin long hair.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before a language, long dead, slipped over her cherry colored lips. A mixture between Latin, Greek and something otherworldly.

The air picked up around her, picking up the candle flames, pulling them higher and creating a fire in the middle of the circle.

She finished her incantation and opened her eyes to the scene. Her hands still in the same position as before, since she still felt the magic being in the works. Any wrong move could break the process.

The fire disappeared in the middle of the summoning circle, forming a swirl that looked much like a portal to another dimension.

Half an hour went by in which nothing more than that happened. The swirl staid a swirl.

“Damn it, it didn’t-“, work she wanted to say, when suddenly she saw blackness appear in the middle of the circle.

“Wait...of course! I have to speak, so the soul can find me”, she realized, “Ey! Gunmar! Come on out motherfucker!”, she yelled.

Another minute passed, but finally, a body came into light. It was a formless thing, like a black thundercloud, bringing strong lighting and a storm. Slowly but surely however, big horns appeared, muscular arms, legs and upper body formed and beautiful carvings glowing in yellow and orange that got carved into him by what seemed like an invisible knife. His back and tail were facing her as he was kneeling towards nothingness before his head shot up and he turned around, finally facing her. His eye was glowing like the candle flames had and his mouth was turning downwards in anger.

She smiled devilishly in delight: It had actually worked.

“Bitch”, he spoke.

“That’s a nice greeting”, she commented and fake pouted as she added, “it’s not very polite to speak to your summoner like that though, after all: I brought you back from the dead or didn’t I?”

“I know who you are, Merel Devlin Hecate: I’d rather stay dead than be bound to you!”, he roared, trying to attack her, but was thrown back into the middle of the circle by the invisible barrier it provided.

“Oh now”, she smooth talked, her voice sounding like a mother trying to pacify her crying child, “don’t get yourself worked up. That can’t be good for a troll your age. Sit down and be happy to be alive again. Besides: I’m sure you’ll like my plan a lot”

“And I’m sure I won’t”, he rumbled

“Well then you’ll just have to live with that”, she now hissed, “you have no choice in this deary. You fucked up and died and now you’ll get this life and no other. You’ll get to feel what it’s like being controlled by something other than yourself like you’ve made so many other trolls feel.

You are full of shit Gunmar. Always have been. I’m sure you’ll cry like a baby by the time I’ve had control over you for more than a day take it worse than any other troll you’ve controlled ever has. You’re nothing more than a piss poor fucker who had some power in his lifetime, but actually you are just so scared of everything, that you need to show to the world, constantly, that you aren’t.”

Gunmar said nothing. He looked angry, yet also confused and at a loss for words. She must’ve hit a soft spot there.

“Nothing snarky to say? Did I hurt the big bad troll? Are you gonna shut the fuck up and just obey my orders and admit your defeat?”, she asked, her voice a little too cocky even for her liking.

“I do not admit defeat, because we did not fight fairly, but I will admit to my captivity.”, he spoke, his voice unusually soft.

“Ok. I can live with that. Now listen:...”, and so she started explaining to him, what her goal of having summoned had been.

“That actually isn’t such a bad plan”, Gunmar admitted and flinched at his own words. What had he become all of a sudden? A dog… that’s what. Not in a millennia would he have thought, that karma would get him like it did now.

“See? And you’ll get to eat some wizard flesh! You may be bound to me, but you are also protected. Nothing can kill you, because you are technically dead. You won’t get no eternal night, but you can get your revenge on Merlins supporters, who are also indirectly the supporters of the trollhunter and therefor his supporters. You get me?”

“I mean, yeah b-“, Gunmar had started countering, but got interrupted by Merel who simply said, “Good! Then we agree on that. Let’s get going, shan’t we?”

“Ah...uhm...Yeah sure”, is all he could say, giving in. Whatever he had wanted to say had slipped his mind and besides: What other choice did he have anyhow?

And so they went for the first kill.

At first Merel wasn’t sure if it would actually be that easy to make Gunmar kill the witch (she was one of the newer understudies of Merlin who took care of filing some script shit in favor of Merlin) she targeted without other wizards seeing him enter, but turns out her illusion magic worked wonders as always and they could slip into the facility and take her out no problem. She wasn’t the most powerful or most important witch she wanted to take out, but that easy? Really?

She did get surrounded by wizards as they found her and Gunmar before the corps.

“Eat her whilst I have a little chat with the gang”, she whispered

“Do not talk to me like-“, but before he could keep talking he felt a kind chain almost strangle him that had appeared around him shooting out of Merels fingertips in n a flaming motion.

“Deary, I can talk to you however I like. I got you in my power. This chain is always there, even if you don’t see it and I can control it at all times. Now behave deary and eat the kill”, she whispered, her voice sweet and sharp and cold.

Gunmar growled at that, but nodded compliantly.

“Very well deary. Eat. You did good.”

And that was the last time he talked back to her. At least like that. He of course staid the snarky asshole he was. She could deal with that though. All she really cared about to show who’s boss.

And just like one, she took the wizards before her out, one by one, only letting on stay conscious choking him, letting him float above her.

“Listen here Milky boy”, she spoke to the young, pale wizard in her grasp, “I have come to say I have managed the worst of the worst: I have resurrected a troll, and not just any: Gunmar the black. He had been shattered and torn, his soul condemned to eternal damnation, but I have summoned him. He is bound to me, my weapon, my killing machine and unless Merlin decides to surrounder, I will make sure, you, boy, and all your pity party fucks who support this poor excuse of a ‘good wizard’ will feel my wrath for coming after me! Now run along young wizard and tell the world Gunmar is back, and I have him in my grasp and no other!”

She let him fall to the ground where he rung for air before running off to wherever to whomever: But just away from her.

“And I always through you’re a part of that ‘pity party’ as you call it”, Gunmar admitted after having cleaned off the bones one by one.

“HA, Me?”, she cackled, “Under the command of Merlin? I didn’t know you were a comic. Now let’s get going before any important wizards get here and cause real trouble for us. We still got a lot to do!”

…

#Oc #trollhunters Oc #gunmar the black #trollhunters gunmar #gunmar #tales of arcadia #wizards #witch #artist on tumblr #original art #exophilia

19 notes · View notes