#i usually make some ugly creature with a joke name

[teecupangel]

Ark: Aberration Edition

Submitted by @saberamane

I’m back with the next ‘Ark Survival Evolved AC Edition’!

They have finally figured out the whole thing going on with ‘Scorched Earth’, defeat the Manticore (which Desmond is super bummed out that he couldn’t tame that thing, it was so cool), they ‘ascend’ again, and the new area they land in is horrible. But also pretty cool. Desmond loves all the bio luminescent creatures to be found on ‘Aberration’.

(Just a note, they all have a Rock Drake, so it won’t be listed with their other tames.)

Desmond:

Aberrant Carno

Aberrant Equus

1 Ravager (She’s more ‘pet’ than ‘tame’, she’s pretty but not ‘high level’ so she stays at base. Basically she’s an event color dino.)

Basilisk

Seeker (non-tameable, but it’s Desmond. He wanted the little eldritch flying creature, so he got it.)

Reaper King (Of course)

Shoulder Pet: Bulbdog (He finds it right away and needed it. It’s one of those ‘it’s so ugly it’s cute’ scenarios.)

Altair:

Aberrant Otter

Aberrant Purlovia

Aberrant Pulmonoscorpius

Aberrant Parasaur

Karkinos

Aberrant Megalosaurus

Shoulder Pet: Shinehorn (I just enjoy the thought of Altair having an adorable little goat on his shoulder all the time.)

Ezio:

Aberrant Ovis

Aberrant Spino

Aberrant Paracer

Aberrant Doedicurus

Roll Rat

Aberrant Baryonyx

Shoulder Pet: Featherlight (It reminds him of Petruccio, and all the feathers he used to collect for his little brother. Needless to say, anything so much as looks at this featherlight wrong dies.)

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

Aberrant Megalania

Aberrant Iguanodon

Aberrant Direbear

Pack of Aberrant Raptor’s

Pack of Ravagers

Aberrant Sarco

Shoulder Pet: Glowtail (They are noted as having the quickest recharge of their light of all ‘glow pets’, which would greatly benefit Ratonhnhaké:ton as he’s typically the ‘hunter’)

=========================

Additions by teecup:

The Ark Survival Evolved AU idea (this one and this one too)

Tames for The Island Ark

Tames for the Scorched Earth Ark

At this point, they have all agreed to just let Desmond do whatever thing he does and they don’t even bat an eye anymore if Desmond returns with some kind of monster/animal that shouldn’t be tameable. At some point, it’s become a running joke about what next untameable beast Desmond would return with. Altaïr is currently winning with his suggestion of “God” and the deadpan way he stated it and the fact that they all know he’s an atheist makes it all the more funnier and it’s really hard to top that one.

(All of their Rock Drakes have the same ‘nest’ and a few months later, they learned that one of them laid an egg and they’re not entirely sure which one it is?)

Desmond:

His Abberant Carno is named Rex The Second because, according to him, Rex Two sounds a bit ‘sad’.

His Equus is usually used for patrols nearby.

His Ravager follows him around the base and likes to get pets but doesn’t like it when others try to pet him. He actually just followed Desmond into the base and just… never left.

His Basilisk is a jerk. He likes to burrow deep underneath the ground then pop out whenever someone passed by. Nobody gets surprised anyway since the Basilisk glows as light blue in their Eagle Vision but still… jerk move. But he mostly accompanies Desmond whenever he goes out because it’s a good companion for taming other monsters/beasts.

Altaïr had researched on the Seekers before to check if they could be tamed and, if not, what’s the best way to take them own, and that’s how he theorized that the reason why Desmond got a Seeker is because it sees Desmond as a light source. His Seeker is always energetic and acts the same way wild Seekers would act whenever they are near light sources like a Bulbdog which earns Desmond the nickname “Our very own Bulbdog”

Oh god. Oh my god. Are we saying that Desmond got impregnated by a female Reaper since that’s the only way to get a Reaper ingame? Are we going for that? Because I hella am in for that! Just imagine Altaïr checking Desmond after an encounter with a Ravager Queen that left him alive and him gravely saying, “You’re… pregnant.” and everyone just stares at Desmond and Desmond is like “It’s not like that! Oh my god, no!” In the end, Desmond ‘shoots’ out the baby Reaper and takes care of it like… I guess a child of his own (oh man, the angst that will happen when they leave this Ark and have to leave the Reaper behind, yeeesss)

Desmond likes to keep the Bulbdog with him always and its deathly afraid of the Seeker but the Seeker just ignores it and goes for Desmond every time.

Altaïr:

Altaïr’s Otter mostly does whatever it wants but he serves mostly as Altaïr’s assistant, bringing him tools or holding things for Altaïr while he’s busy with his current project.

His Purlovia primarily just lazes around in his workshop but he always likes to burrow all over and is sorta maybe best friends with Desmond’s Basilisk? Or maybe they’re burrowing rivals, no one is really sure.

His Pulmonoscorpius usually accompanies him whenever he’s away from their base as it’s a good bodyguard and its poison can be used to weaken or tamed any beast that catches his fancy (and the poison is also used for some of his creations). He got his Pulmonoscorpius from a cave too so he uses that as a mount whenever he goes to a cave so other monsters/beasts won’t be alerted.

His Parasaur loves to gather berries. No one knows why but he just lets him do what he wants since Parasaur also warns them of any dangers near their base that he sees during his berry picking.

What his Karkinos lacks in speed, he makes up with his sheer utility. If his Otter is his assistant in the base, the Karkinos is his assistant when out in the wilds and there have been many encounters that ended in their favor thanks to him.

No, Desmond, this Megalosaurus will not be named Megalosaurus the Second. No. Megalosaurus Junior is also out of the question. Stop it.

Shinehorn is a good lightsource. That’s the reason why he’s on Altaïr’s shoulder. Yup. That’s the only reason why. No, the fact that Desmond had been the one to give it to him had nothing to do with Altaïr’s preferential treatment to the damn goat.

Ezio:

To continue with the whole ‘naming farm creatures’, these herd of Ovis have a Haytham, an Abbas (the one that always tries to chew Altaïr’s robes) and a Lucy (named after Lucrezia Borgia or so Desmond says)

His Spino mainly patrols all of Ezio’s other tames and he actually let Desmond name it Spino the Second.

His Paracer served as their first base actually while they were looking for a good place to ‘settle down’ as Desmond likes to call it. He’s their oldest tame and he mainly just lounges in the base as a reward for having to deal with all the shenanigans the group had to go thru while he served as their mobile base.

Doedicurus likes to roll around and, really, Ezio enjoys watching his Doedicurus roll around to beat the crap of any creature that tries any funny business.

Roll Rat was used to help build their base, mostly by rolling onto obstacles to destroy them. Now, he’s mainly used to harvest wood and mushrooms. Hell, he and Parasaur sometimes return at the same time filled with berries they have collected. Desmond called it berry-bonding.

Baryonyx is Ezio’s primary companion when he goes outside and also their main source of underwater resources.

Featherlight is nicknamed ‘asfoor’ which means little sparrow and Ezio has a soft spot for it. He once gifted Desmond one of the feather that had fallen from the Featherlight and Desmond is the only person who understands how much the little creature reminds Ezio of his family (not just Petruccio but Maria Auditore as well)

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Megalania is always almost on walls or ceilings and helps by ambushing hostile creatures while they’re focused on Ratonhnhaké:ton and his ‘main force’.

Iguanodon usually helps with farming and gathering resources in the base but he’s important when Ratonhnhaké:ton leaves for long periods of time as he helps hunt food and resources they may need in the wild (like poison that Ratonhnhaké:ton can use to craft items)

Ratonhnhaké:ton refused to call his new Dire Bear Dire Bear The Second because that he felt like he was comparing it to his previous Dire Bear. He did agree to naming it Teddy Bear though. (he doesn’t know what teddybear actually means)

His main force is composed of a pack of Aberrant Raptors that all have names and Ratonhnhaké:ton can distinguish each of them with a glance. They’re very well coordinated with the ambush tactics of the Megalania and like to corral their enemies to where the Magalania is waiting to pounce them.

The pack of Ravagers is actually the children of the Ravager that followed Desmond to their base. Every time they’re in the base, they stay with their mother (which means Desmond takes care of them). They’re very energetic and the Raptors actually usually have to corral them to stay in formation.

Sarco is Ratonhnhaké:ton’s preferred mount whenever there is a need to dive somewhere.

Glowtail prefers to wrap around Ratonhnhaké:ton neck and sometimes around the crown of his head.

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[moving-wright-along]

(Idk if you've done this before but) Hi I was wondering If you could please give me some X-virus/Cody Hc? Also I love reading your blog...

I’ve done some cody headcanons before, but theyre really old so heres new ones. also this ask was sent SO LONG AGO AND IM SO SORRY LOL

💉Cody Rogers💉

-Don’t let his hardcore, mean facade fool you. Cody is always longing for affection and companionship, but he puts up barriers and blocks it out when it’s offered to him. His adoptive father thinking he was a monster and rejecting his interests really messed him up, so he’s slow to trust now. 

-He’s a solitary creature of his own creation. And while he’ll struggle to admit it, he craves intimacy and connection so bad. 

-Personally I like to think that him and Toby are twins separated at birth. I also think he changed his name back to Rogers after moving into the manor. He’s really happy to have a family again.

-They have absolutely no idea why they were separated. Toby joked once that Cody was so ugly out the womb that they got rid of him. Cody just punched him and pointed out that they have the exact same face.

-They're completely identical except for eye color. Cody's eyes are green, while Toby's are brown. 

-Cody has noticed that Toby has a difficult time looking him in the eye, but seemingly doesn’t have the same problem with anyone else. It’s only after he sees a picture of her that he realizes its because his eyes are the same color as Lyra’s. 

-Toby tells him a lot about Lyra. It makes him sad to think about, that he had a sister he never got to meet. He daydreams sometimes about how their lives would be different if they’d been raised together. Maybe life wouldn’t suck so bad if they’d had each other.

-Also mad that he never got a chance to sock it to their piece of shit father before Toby killed him. He would've liked to smack the fucker with his bat for hurting his siblings. Too late now, though, and he's at least content that the man got what was coming to him.

-Aside from his brother, I think he gets along best with EJ in the mansion. They bond over mad science and crimes against humanity. 

-He likes Jane too, and while they aren’t super close, he’s had some pleasant conversations with her. Jane mainly likes him because he’s one of the only people in this manor capable of being civil. And because he annoys the shit out of Jeff and she’s all for that. 

-Cody can’t stand Jeff. Ben wouldn’t be so bad either if he didn’t get roped into Jeff’s shit so much. Cody mainly hates him because Jeff is an asshole who doesn’t really care about other people or their feelings. He doesn’t care much for bullies. Jeff also has a bad habit of picking on Toby specifically, which pretty much immediately lands him on Cody’s shit list. 

-As for Masky and Hoodie... He doesn’t really know what to make of those two, honestly. Both proxies are close with Toby, the three of them having a strong brotherly bond. It makes him feel like an outsider, which only makes Masky or Hoodie’s attempts to get close to him feel fake- like they’re only doing it because of his brother. 

-Which... isn’t entirely wrong. At least at first. Masky and Hoodie first assume that because they’re twins that they’ll be really similar. They’re a bit shocked to then find that Cody is practically his twin’s opposite. Neither of them really know how to interact with him because of that. 

-Needless to say, Cody keeps his distance. 

-Masky and Hoodie try to get Cody involved but he just doesn’t seem interested. Toby is the only person that can convince Cody to hang out or participate with the others, but even then it’s a 50-50 chance. 

-Even when he is convinced to engage in group activities he doesn’t usually stick around very long. His social battery drains fast and he hits a point where he needs to be alone for a while. 

-Because of his loner nature he usually gets sent on missions by himself, rather than with a group, which he doesn’t mind at all. 

-Cody keeps to himself and is pretty quiet. He’s also smart and sensible, which makes him an instant favorite of Slender’s. However this just makes it easier for him to fuck with people because he hides all his mischief behind that innocent face. 

-Constantly torturing Jeff and the best part is no one can ever prove it’s him. Everyone knows of course, but they can’t prove it. 

-Him and Toby fight a lot. Not like disagreement fighting- no, they actually get along really well. Like fist-fighting. They’ll be totally fine one minute and the next they’re just decking each other. Toby always wins though cause Cody’s kinda weak and Toby does a lot more physical training than he does. It’s all in good fun though :o)

-They're both actually really protective of each other. Cody defends Toby from Jeff or whoever else tries to mess with him and Toby defends Cody from anyone who tries to get him riled up (jeff). They're like two guard dogs guarding each other.

-In a weird way, fighting his brother is a good way for Cody to release pent up anger and aggression because Toby can't feel it. Boy has pent up anger issues like you wouldn't believe. He tries to keep himself calm but it's really easy to set him off.

-He’s the type that’s usually really quiet but every once in a while he murmurs some insanely hilarious quip that just destroys everyone. 

-He has a bunch of piercings and he did them all himself. He also has a stick and poke, but its just a little operator symbol on his bicep. He would do more but he doesn’t really know what to give himself. Refuses to give Toby a tattoo no matter how much the other begs. Ever since Toby found out he has a tattoo and that he did it himself he hasn’t heard the end of it.

-Outside of his own bedroom, he spends a lot of time in the manor’s library. Him and EJ will sit at the same table and read for hours and not say a single word to one another. They love it. 

-Always finds a way to make himself scarce when the pastas have any kind of game night. He has horrible luck and he absolutely sucks at any and every type of game, from monopoly to mario kart. He refuses to be humiliated. 

-He’s actually really sweet when he starts to open up. He’s really observant, which means he’s really thoughtful when he wants to be. 

-I feel like he stares into the middle distance a lot. Like “are you guys seeing this shit?” kind of staring, like he’s looking into a camera. Or that ben affleck meme.

[insanely-lovely-and-random]

So this is my rant about Shallow Hal, I recently rewatched it because the song "Love Grows" is on the radio again (which also yay) and I've always loved the movie and I didn't even realise people found the movie problematic.

Ya know what I get that people find issues with things that came out years ago and some are valid but when people try to tell me I'm literally wrong for liking something, THAT I have a problem with.

Fats suits and fat jokes are a problem and the early 2000s were full of those jokes but honestly I have a much greater issue when I see them in current media than old because yeah they probably should know better now but I don't really want to talk about its problems I want to say why I love it.

The fact that Jack Black was a leading man on a romcom is fantastic, he's a very attractive man but lets not lie hes not Hollywood's version of one and I LOVE that they made a movie like that. I also like the fact that he starts off like the name says shallow, he's a dick at first and he goes through actual growth which is honestly amazing because usually when the main characters not conventionally attractive they make the character too nice and honestly boring this movie feels honest with his flaws.

Yes Gwyneth Paltrow is wearing a fatsuit and most of the movie she's just herself but this was 2001 how many movies since have actually had an overweight woman as the love interest? I mean actually overweight and not Renee Zellweger in Bridget Jones? Cause I could count em on one hand.

The fact that it ended the way it did I honestly think it was ahead of it's time. This and Shrek came out the same year and both have very touching endings with Shrek loving Fiona even with her being an Ogre and in this movie he comes to love Rosemary for the person she is and appearances really don't matter to him anymore. He loves an overweight woman and neither of them change to become more attractive by societies standards , that's fricking cool as hell!!! I don't know how many other movies I know that do that even today and let me say the fact that HE IS A MAN.

Before anyone gets angry at me what I mean is just think about how many movies have a woman loving a man who starts as a monster or scarred or considered ugly by the movies world. There's hundreds, recently we had Shape of Water where as nice twist yes the man remains a fish man and she loves him anyways. But movies where the man loves a woman who's considered unattractive? Far fewer and of those movies 9 outta 10 the womans just tall, clumsy, not a size 6 or something else completely ridiculous. She's almost never scarred or a frightening creature or genuinely over weight.

Beauty and the Beast has always confused me because the Beast is bad and can't see past an outer appearance but the solution isn't to have him fall for a woman with an ugly outer appearance it's to give him one and have a woman have to fall for him despite it.... but why?? Why should a woman have to learn to love him when it should clearly be him who has to learn that, I never got it but Shallow Hal did. Shallow Hal a movie from over two decades ago did that. It had a man learn that he is cruel, obnoxious and shallow and only by growing as person and saying a big old Fuck you to society's standards could he become incredibly happy with the woman he loves. Because Hal isn't the only bad guy in the movie, the whole world is. As shown by how embarrassed his friend is when he finds out Hals with Rosemary, so self concious just because of what other people would think?!

Hal changed by the end of the movie but people haven't changed a goddamn bit and that's sad. People seem to fat shame and look down on others more than ever and yes it has problems and it's just a goofy romcom from two decades ago but I swear to God I was genuinely changed by seeing it when I was 10. I felt empathy and shame for how I'd looked at other people who were bigger than me and it was thanks to this movie and so I still love it. Peace out ✌✌

[volturialice]

Well, since everyone is sharing their experience with coming into twilight fandom, I will engage too, I suppose.

So, this story is short and dull, but so much excitement came into my humble life after, so.

I had never read the books, but was forced to watch all the twilight movies, for like 30+ times. Why, you ask? Well, because at the time, I was in the hotel where you could connect to wi-fi only in the lobby, and had just an old TV and one bed in the actual room. And I was there for, like 2-3 weeks? I was long ago, don’t quite remember. The thing is, my Ipod had only two Barbie movies and Twilight, Eclipse, and BD2 uploaded.

Why to the whole Saga? Bruh. Because I HATED “dummies don’t know how to use a condom” (even being, like, 12 yo) BD drama and wasn’t interested in Bella’s sulking et al ((and wholeheartedly had rejected (still do) Jasper’s ugly wig)) in NM. So, I re-watched the movies to the point I knew their dialogues, because its either that or Barbie the Mermaid for millionth time over.

And? Think what? Last year I had had read all goodies KakaSaku (Naruto) fandom can provide me with on AO3, and, like, what now? Oh, there comes, my shameful past. Wattpad. Jasper/OC. So, had had read, like, three fics that were, like, readable, and came to AO3. To discover more of this AliExpress-que class luxuries.😑 But, there came the divine intervention, there came my Truth. Its name was, YT recs.

Came across these two J/A @irrelevanttous’ edits on YT (J/A - Strange Birds & J/A - Alive) and, like, no joking, cried due to how beautiful its was, how absolutely MESMERISING it was.

And then, I like, “so, I need to read something about them”. So, back to AO3. But not to Jasper/OC section. Instead, J/A section. And there? There? @flowerslut and @goldeneyedgirl were there. My sleepless nights came there. And I like, holymolyshittiepolly, how do I never payed more attention to them?

[ Like, sure, Alice was my fav in the movies, and in NM and Eclipse they were the only ones I watched, and shipped, but like, in “they are sweet” way, no more. And because E/B and every other couple have NO CHEMISTRY, for me at least (I liked Rose, tho) in the movies. ]

So, I read this @goldeneyedgirl goodness, cried myself waterless because of how BEAUTIFUL Jalice is, when you think about it, CAME TO TUMBLR FOR THE FIRST TIME (being 18 yo, lol) just to follow @goldeneyedgirl, and everything her Sanctuary of A Blog has to offer, discovered the animal called #twilightrenaissance and, well, here goes the madness.

@flowerslut COTN which made me like “fuck canon, this is my canon” for some time.

yours “good politics”, which got me into historical!Jalice, which is usually not my cup of matcha latte.

@goldeneyedgirl fics/metas/everything (she is, like, THE GOD of Jalice characterisation for me, the gallons of tears I spent because of her creations, could make its own Sea) made me an addict to her stuff.

@jessicanjpa and @panlight meta dissertations, that I literally saved on my device, to analyse myself.

@forkscult and @twilightsaganetwork aesthetic heavens

@bastards-bitch and silenth works, that so indecently made me weep, from its beauty and glass both.

And then I read @gisellelx meta, and @therealvinelle, and like, is Edward was that crazy? (Bella’s meta didn’t surprise me that much, because I didn’t really liked her in the movies, and something about her passiveness at one setting, and martyr acts in the next, always irritated me). Need to find out.

So, welcome to hell, I read the books, crying and roaring at Bella’s narration, and cringing myself into 90 old wrinkles. And then, Midnight Sun. But no, thank you. I heard about/read some parts, and Im traumatised (I love the Jalice parts tho, expect those where Ed being an “im-superior-to-you jerk, passively-aggressively judging J , while seeing Alice as some sort of God-Send, tho a-lita-shallow” Creature😒) enough. These books are like a dissertation your teacher gives you on the “waste your characters and your world’s potential to its fullest” topic, but at the same time, its gives so much material to, cross over it and then re-think, that I actually isn’t sure, is SMeyer a genius which potential was buried under the layers of Mormon bull, or is she just, like, accidentally made something really engrossing, but her weird obsession with E/B didn’t let her see beyond.

But what the books gave me, is an understanding of how far the movies were from the truth, like, its has absolutely zero canon for me, except, maybe the first part, which aesthetics are so good for me, to this day. Even if the plot is meh.

And the source material sucks, I get it. But, its seemed like Twilight were a project of interest, and the stuff is, like, actually cared to make a movie about vamps, where following movies were like “so, this is your short version about whats happening, shoot”. Like, this ever-changing wigs. And awfully human looking everyone in BD, with childish fights in both Eclipse and BD2. Meh.

But, im rumbling myself out of the topic in question, sorry.

So, yeah. And here we are, where I cant get myself back into some other fandom, reading and re-reading Jalice every-time I come across something, and enjoying the depths of glorious hell that is Tumblr.

Thank you for coming to ma TED Talk.

wow wow this is like a who's who of excellent meta and fics!! you really put so much thought into telling your story and it's kind of amazing to see how many people's work helped or influenced or touched you—like, look at this guys, this is a full fandom Journey and it's completely glorious

also omg, being stuck with only twilight films on your ipod, what an S tier origin story! this was an incredible TED talk tysm for inviting me

[a3shithole]

Hi! If requests are open could i request Masumi with a new reader who just joined the spring truope (who at first is really quiet but when they open up their chaotic side comes out) and he finds himself slowly falling for them and moving on from Izumi?

Bonus if the reader is a meme lord and does the most weird/cursed things for funzies and enjoys making their friends laugh with their stupid shenanigans.

This is such an interesting idea! I feel honored to receive this, thank you for requesting! ⌒°ʚ(ෆ❛ั ᴗ ❛ัʃƪ)ɞ♡°⌒

This will be my third time writing him, and all of them are from requests haha (≡^∇^≡) I honestly had a hard time writing chaotic reader, let alone a meme lord type of person, so I'm sorry in advance that this turns really cringy (^^")

Sorry that I'm slow at doing requests, I was too absorbed into A3!'s last event (Various Vow of Love) haha >///<

Also happy early birthday Masumi! Hope you like this and have a nice day 🌻

Masumi x reader (gender-neutral)

Reader is a new member of Spring Troupe

1294 word

He's been frowning ever since this morning.

Masumi usually still half-asleep when it's time for morning rehearsal, but his eyes turn wide open, as soon as the Director walks into the room. With a stranger. Closely stand near Izumi.

That stranger is you.

Izumi introduces you as the new member for Spring Troupe from now on. You meekly said your name to everyone in the room. The members of Spring Troupe welcomed you with open arms, making sure you adapt to the new environment feeling comfortable. Except for Masumi.

He despises how physically close you are to the Director on the whole rehearsal. He is jealous of how the Director gave her full attention to you. And he almost tackles you--thanks to Chikage and Itaru who holds him--because you praised how tasty Izumi's curry at lunchtime, and resulting in you getting an extra portion from her.

He hates you as the new rookie who's trying to steal the Director away from him.

You are aware of how Masumi has been staring at you since you arrived here. You just didn't understand what did you do to upset him.

"Don't mind him," you turned your head to the other member of Spring Troupe that's been playing on his phone--Itaru was it?

Easier said than done

You exhaled, not realizing you've been holding your breath. You are shy when you are in a new place, but with the addition of someone having vendetta towards you on the first day?

"Umm... Did I do something wrong to him?" you asked the gamer besides you.

"Nope. It's just him being his usual self," he answered casually while still focusing on attacking a slime creature on his phone.

"He is extremely inflated when it comes to the Director, you see~"

"Infatuate. And he's been like that towards the Director for years now. I'm sorry you're experiencing this on your first day."

You just nod to the foreigner and the playwright as a response. While it's a bit of a relief that it was not your fault for him to stare at you full of hatred, if looks could kill, you'd be dead by now.

You yelped in surprise when you realized Masumi stood beside you, staring you down like a small critter getting cornered by a predator. Before you even open your mouth to ask him, he cut you off with a harsh tone.

"Don't go near the Director."

"Masumi!"

And just like that, he went back to his room.

It was a short sentence coming out from his mouth, yet you felt like part of your soul just left your body. It's going to be such a long journey being on this troupe, you thought.

.

It's been a month since you joined Mankai Company and being part of the Spring troupe. You are mostly silent for the first two weeks, not knowing what to say and only answering stuff if it's directly aimed at you. Masumi still glares at you whenever the Director interacts with you, but that's about it.

But as time goes by, getting a bit more comfortable with everyone on the troupe, doing rehearsal is fun. You start to open up, revealing your true, loud personality to the rest of the members. And with that, Spring Troupe slowly rivals the energy of the Summer Troupe with you in the troupe. Poor Tsuzuru basically got another nuisance to take care of, he felt like he grew more white hair every time watching your shenanigans.

But it was also a fresh atmosphere for the spring troupe. Every rehearsal became so colorful and fun with you around. You love everyone in Mankai, and so do they.

And something changed with Masumi.

Every time you crack some jokes or do some stupid stuff, you do notice he always stares at you. Like, observing your every movement. Not with the ill-intent he does the first few days you join the troupe. Because when you stare back at him, he averted his gaze away from you.

Is he perhaps shy?

Because of that, you have a new mission to do; being besties with Usui Masumi!

"Bruh," you said, poking a certain gamer besides you, "how do you befriend an emo psycho?"

"You don't."

"Man, you're useless."

He throws the towel drenched with his sweats, making you shriek in disgust.

"That is so not pogchamp, dude," you said, throwing the towel back, away from your face to Itaru who is just dabbing.

"Please stop. You two are hurting me," Tsuzuru said from the other side of the room. You and Itaru look at each other and unanimously agree to do an outdated viral dance, earning a loud groan from the playwright.

.

"Masumiii! Check your LIME!" you yelled across the room one day. You've been trying your best to be close with Usui Masumi. And you're not going to lie, but it's so hard, especially with his lack of response in general.

"No."

"But I sent you some banger memes!"

"Don't care."

"It's Director's faves!"

And with the speed of light, he unlocked his phone to see the abomination you sent into his inbox.

"...why is this ugly dog hitting another dog with a baseball bat?"

"That's you."

"...what?"

You scoot closer to him as he scrolls on his phone, looking at all the crap you sent to him. You just laugh and try to explain each individual picture to him. It's amusing to see him so bewildered.

"Why are you sending me all these unfunny pictures?"

"You make friends by sending them memes! I think it's working, don't you think?!"

"No."

"Gah, so cold!"

"Ooh! Is that the Shoes Camel meme?"

You jumped when one of your fellow troupe mates chimed in to see at Masumi's screen, "Close Ronron! But the name's Suez Canal!"

You two start chatting animately about the recent accident-that-ended-up-being-a-meme, while also edging Masumi to also be involved in the conversation. Then the other four members of Spring Troupe slowly join into your conversation.

It feels weird, Masumi thought to himself.

On how natural you lift up the atmosphere in an instant, even though everything that came out of your mouth sounds ridiculous for him.

Maybe he judged you a bit harshly just because...

What, jealousy?

Why?

.

Masumi is confused.

This feeling...

He was so sure that he is so in love with the Director, he even prepared their wedding plan and their honeymoon.

Was.

And then you entered Mankai. And his life.

Never in his life, he felt this conflicted.

Recently he catches himself thinking about you randomly. When listening to a song. Or eating his lunch.

And he feels warm when you're around. The way you talk to him is... different. It doesn't feel like this when he talks to Izumi.

...why was he so obsessed with Izumi to begin with anyway?

Masumi is indeed confused.

"Hey," he jolted from a sudden touch from someone on his shoulder. Turning his head, you are standing behind him, with concern plastered on your face.

"You've been standing here for a long time, are you okay?" he relaxed a bit, "...yeah."

You might be annoying at times, but not the over-bearing type from his view, but you know when to tone down your usual energy, "hmm... just know that if you need any help, I'm here for you. I might be useless, but I'm not as useless as the 'G' in Lasagna!"

He realizes that maybe, he was too naïve for clinging onto what he felt for Izumi. He needs to grow as a person, sure, he loves Izumi. But he now realizes it's not that kind of love. With his newfound feeling towards you, however. It feels different.

For the first time, you see a smile on his face.

[nicsalazar]

Old dogs, new tricks || Nicole & Victoria

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Outskirts PARTIES: @natusvincere &  @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Pax and Winnie have an impromptu playdate, their owners navigate their newfound friendship CONTENT WARNING: None

Winnie was getting too spoiled.  Vic was starting to make a habit of getting her one of those disgusting take out burgers as a treat on Friday nights after her shift, and it was becoming a horrible habit for the both of them.  Winnie’s gratefulness made it hard to stop, but Vic knew she had to at least try to taper off- it had to be horrible for her health.  With the nice weather, they had been able to venture out on a lot more walks, lately, and she hoped it was helping the cause at least a little bit.  

Their typical walking route usually had very few passerbys, which was nice, because Vic didn’t have to worry about socializing or accidentally noticing someone didn’t have a heartbeat, and because Winnie didn’t get a chance to freak out when a new potential friend strode by.  She was normally extremely obedient, but that trait seemed to escape from her at the worst of times.  Like that very moment, when the Rottweiler went bounding toward a woman and her dog a few feet in front of them, the leash yanking Vic’s arm in the process.  “Winnifred!”, she scolded in a harsh whisper.  “Stop!”

Nicole had chosen the long leash for this particular walk, allowing Pax to sniff around and explore most of the trail before they settled for a place to rest. A small park with very few people nearby. Safe enough for the times they were living. Always trying to stay aware of her surroundings, she had noticed the other dog minutes before it surged towards them. And though she heard the woman’s scolding, she didn't think it was necessary. Pax was cautious at first, despite the Rottweiler’s friendly attitude. He sniffed around just a moment, accepting his new playmate quickly after. Nicole let go of the leash, letting Pax chase after Winnie. It was then when she could finally focus on the other dog’s owner, her eyebrows rising in surprise at the sight. 

Nicole stared at the familiar face, letting out a huff. “Good thing there are no bridges around us, huh?” it was a deadpan, but she wasn’t trying to joke. She really didn’t want a repeat of that adventure. And she was certain the other woman wanted it even less. “Vic” she said after a moment, a curt nod in acknowledgement. She turned towards their dogs, having the best of times a few feet away, “and… so that's Winnie, huh?” she pointed towards the Rottweiler’s playmate. “That’s my ugly dog, by the way” that part was a joke. “Pax” she clarified, because Vic looked like the kind of woman who would purposely forget the name of a dog she deemed ugly.

Winnie was an infuriating creature.  How could a creature that evoked so much love and affection from her otherwise stoic nature also be so incredibly embarrassing?  The only thing that might have been more embarrassing was if Vic somehow knew the person Winnie was approaching.  

That thought was quickly stomped as soon as Nicole turned around.  She bit her lower lip, looking anywhere but Nicole’s face.  But her words held familiarity and truth, and they gave her the courage to look back upon her friend.  “I bet the dogs would have ripped those rocks apart”, she said, a slight snarl to her tone.  She wasn’t afraid of facing the rock men again, and Nicole shouldn’t have been either.  She looked down at her feet, thankful she had elected to wear tightly tied sneakers that day.  “Nicole”, she said, nodding back curtly.  She turned toward the dogs, playing happily with each other as if they hadn’t just watched a  faux pas of manners in action.  She noticed Pax wasn’t intimidated by Winnie’s spikey collar, and wondered if he was as stupid as he was ugly.  She looked over to Pax, then, who surprisingly did have some cute features about him, despite being a mutt.  “It seems Pax is better behaved than Winnifred”, she commented, a small smile forming as she watched them play.  She turned to Nicole, then, pressing her lips together.  “I trust you’ve been well?”

Vic’s response made Nicole chuckle, quickly realizing she had misjudged the other woman. She should’ve expected more from the woman who attempted to fight three trolls with her bare hands. “You’re gonna let that go, are you? We had no chance” she shook her head but responded to Vic’s snarl with casual amusement.

It was easier for Nicole to watch their dogs play than it was to have a face-to-face conversation. Something to focus on was always nicer than eye contact. But she tried, glancing at Vic every now and then. She supposed there was somewhat of a bond between the two after fighting trolls and eating burgers. It wasn’t as awkward as it’d be to make small talk with a stranger. “Oh, he is– so good. I don’t get credit for that though” she said, making sure everything was still okay out in the field. “Already trained by his previous family. You know…before they gave him up” their fucking loss, she thought. Of all the things she could thank White Crest for, bringing her and Pax together was at the top of her list. It wasn’t a particularly long list, but still— “You’re too tough on her” she said with a nod, knowing Vic’s hard exterior was all for show. “She looks like the gentlest… most gentle– giant”.

Nicole remained quiet for a moment, pondering Vic’s question. The real answer was perhaps too dark to answer on a friendly encounter. But no one ever asked that expecting to get the truth, right? Common pleasantries, nothing more and nothing less. “Eh... can you be well in this town?” It was always better to turn the question into another question, gauge her companion’s disposition. “You?”

“They played dirty.  If it was a fair fight we would have left with their shoes.”  Did the rock trolls have shoes that day on the bridge?  Vic didn’t think so.  But metaphorical shoes or not, the point was still sound.  VIc furrowed her eyebrows at the new information offered about Pax, and she turned away from watching the dogs to look at Nicole incredulously.  “Wait, … someone elected to give their dog up?  On purpose?  What kind of monster does that?”  They must have been vampires, no one else could hold such cruelty.  

She couldn’t help but smirk at Nicole’s accusation, if only for a moment, before she turned back to the dogs.  “I’ve been getting her those burgers, you know”, she admitted as Winnie jumped an impressive three feet into the air.  “She’s becoming obsessed with them.  Perhaps I should petition the restaurant to use her as their spokesperson.”   Nicole was right, but Vic hadn’t realized she felt that way about things, or at least not that she was so forthcoming about it.  People had bad habits of faking optimism with their acquaintances to hold up some form of pleasantry, for some reason.  But she and Nicole were friends, anyway. “Can you be well in this world?” She countered, and figured it was as sufficient of an answer as any.  “You know, as much as I complain about this town, I could leave whenever I wanted, but for some reason I’ve elected to stay.  Do you think I’m a glutton for punishment?”

“Yeah, alright” Nicole breathed out a laugh, not even trying to stop the eye roll. Maybe it was a good thing Vic wasn’t willing to let go of her belief. That woman was proud of herself and her abilities, and maybe Nicole could use some of that confidence. Maybe. A half grin played on her lips when Vic spoke of Pax’s previous family. To call them monsters was harsh, but part of her quietly agreed. She couldn’t imagine ever giving him up. “Yeah… uh, I don’t have the whole story. Just– what they knew at the shelter. He had been there for two years”. Not long, if she considered some of the other animals who spent their entire lives there. They were lucky to find each other that day.

As Pax and Winnie managed to find a third playmate to join in, Nicole pointed at a bench nearby. It looked like they’d be there longer than expected. “Good, she deserves it” she said, as they walked over and sat, just in time to see Winnie leap into the air. “And– alright, maybe my memory’s fucked up cause– trolls, but… they were really good burgers so,” good for her, Nicole thought.

She lifted an eyebrow as Vic’s retort came. “Oh. Alright, we’re going there, huh?” Wallowing in self-pity it was, then. It was the type of conversation Nicole preferred to have with a couple drinks in her, but it had been a good hike, which was filling her brain with all the good stuff people always talked about. That and Vic’s reluctance to sugarcoat anything were reasons enough to let herself speak. Nicole took a moment to figure what glutton meant, but thanks to the context, she didn’t have to embarrass herself by asking. “We all are, kinda, no?” Everyone with some self-awareness would have to agree. 

She looked away, distracting herself with the dogs as Vic spoke, nodding faintly. “I used to think I could’ve done that, but– people happened. Pretty inconvenient, you know”. She didn’t look at Vic once as a new question formed in her head. Nicole thought it made it easier for the other woman to ignore it, if she didn’t feel like answering. “Where would you go? If–” she shrugged, trailing off.

“If I had the patience, I’d adopt all those dogs from the shelter.  Even the ugly ones”, Vic said earnestly, wondering briefly if anyone had the patience for that kind of energy.  “Animals are easier, sometimes.  They don’t expect anything from you, at least not the hard stuff.  So I think that means they deserve much more patience than the rest of us.”  As if on cue, the third dog that had joined in got a nice big string of slobber right on Winnie’s head.  Perhaps all of them didn’t deserve patience after all.  “I bought Winnifred as a puppy”, she said with a smirk.  “She was meant to intimidate my enemies.  Maybe she does, even.  But she certainly makes the quiet nights easier, I think.”

Vic smirked and shrugged at Nicole’s response to her nihilism, amused.  “You think?”, she asked, curious.  It wasn’t often she picked someone else’s brain on how they felt about themselves or others, at least not with authenticity.  “I think people certainly like to complain about miniscule things, but it's hard to figure out if people secretly enjoy the so called misery they’re complaining about.”  

“I don’t know”, she shrugged honestly, sitting back on the bench.  “It’s hard to say.  I’ve lived all over.”  There wasn’t always a rhyme or reason to the places she ended up living.  Sometimes she had to leave one place quickly, and run to change identities before her past caught up with her.  Others she just knew it was time to go, and had more time to plan out where she wanted to end up.  “Maybe Canada.  Or back to Sweden.”  There was always the maybe she’d go back home.  There was even once a few decades ago when she had all the plans to journey there.  But even after she bought the plane tickets and entered the airport, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Part of her wondered if she’d even recognize it as home, anyway.  “How about you?”

“That’s real nice of you to think of the ugly dogs” there was still a slight hint of humor as Nicole spoke, but she meant it. She hadn’t known Victoria for very long, but her wish to adopt every dog at the shelter said more about the kind of person she was than whatever tough exterior she put to protect herself. Sometimes she wondered if she was just projecting, but the woman seemed to have a lot going on internally. Maybe it was impossible for White Crest citizens to not look like they were being tortured by something.  “Your enemies,” her lips curved as Vic’s choice of words, before glancing at said intimidating beast, trapped under her other two playmates. “Yeah, seems like she’s exactly what you needed” she wasn’t joking anymore, Winnie was the perfect complement for someone like Vic.

“Pretty sure” Nicole nodded. It wasn’t the first time she heard people complain about the town. Wouldn’t be the last. She did it plenty herself. But they were all there still, when there were perfectly good towns all around them if they took self-preservation seriously. Maybe it was because she had just taken a hike, and those always helped her work things out faster, but there was clarity in her mind that she didn’t usually possess. “I think… we’re all here cause, maybe– deep down, we think…we deserve it” her brow furrowed, glancing at Vic. “The bad shit, all of it”. She wasn’t bold enough to ask, but she wondered what happened to her that made her believe she deserved to stay in this town and suffer. 

Nicole’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Sweden, huh. Is that… where you’re from? Thought you were… I dunno– your accent… british?” There was always something fascinating about those who had been in many places, yet chose to remain in White Crest. It backed her theory. But more than anything, it was jealousy that lingered in her chest. She never got to do any of that when she was younger. She would’ve loved to travel around before settling and becoming an adult. But she didn’t get to choose any of that, did she? 

She should’ve expected to hear the same question echoed back to her, yet Nicole still didn’t feel prepared to answer that.  She didn’t have a place to go, no home to get back to. Despite complaining, she had never allowed herself to truly ponder a future. Wherever she chose to go, it’d be a new beginning. Being put on the spot, she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. “I’d just– I’m not…sure. Um– I’d…” she rubbed her jaw, pressing her lips together to hide a smile. “Maybe I’d grab my truck…Pax and—” would Leah come along if she asked? She really hoped so. “A road trip. Wouldn’t settle anywhere for a long time”.

It was easier to talk about dogs than deep down, awful inside feelings, but somehow the course of Vic’s conversation with Nicole seemed to be heading in that direction.  “I don’t know, I think there are some people that are thrilled with this town and are getting the best out of it, somehow.”  Was it that those people deserved the best? “ And… if I’m being frank, there’s more keeping me here than my misery.”  Or there was, until Morgan Fucking Beck decided to make her question everything she’s believed in for 450 years.  

“It’s where I was born, yes.”  Vic didn’t often divulge to most people where she was from, mostly for fear of someone somehow figuring out who she actually was, but Nicole was harmless.  Still, she licked her lips, not used to the feeling of being the center of someone’s attention.  “I learned to speak English in the UK, so I suppose that makes sense”, she explained.  Before that, she had run around Sweden and its surrounding countries for decades, hidden in the night and worried that somehow, someone might recognize her.  Most of it she couldn’t even remember.  

Nicole seemed to wait a beat to answer, and Vic wondered if she was experiencing some of the same internal struggles that she was.  Both times she met the woman, she took her quietness for shyness, but perhaps there was something going on inside that the rest of the world didn’t know about.  “A road trip sounds positively miserable”, she quipped, but there was an amused smile playing on her lips.  “Boring and uncomfortable-... and stinky, I’d wager.”

Nicole shook her head. That didn’t seem possible. Even people who loved this town had become jaded because of it.  Even that guy on the tourism board had to hate this town. He had to. Nicole was sure of it. Even Leah, who proudly claimed to love White Crest, had to harbor some resentment. She should ask sometime. “See I don’t— then… Maybe we should find those people you talk about. Ask them their secret” delusion, she’d bet. That’s how she survived the first couple of years. Pretending that all the weird things in town were nothing but quirks. She could bet that the only happy people in White Crest were those who didn’t believe in the supernatural. Her thoughts were interrupted by Vic’s revelation. “Oh” there was surprise in her tone, “what’s that?” Probably someone. That was usually the case, wasn’t it? Maybe a curse. That was likely too.

“That’s… far away” No, it wasn’t the most insightful of statements, but it helped Nicole process the information. “But see, how the fuck does a Swedish woman end up in this…shithole?” she was mildly entertained by the thought, before realizing she had asked the question out loud. “I’m– I’m not asking… you don’t have to–” she was quick to add, fidgeting with Pax’s leash. “It just fits my… we all ended up here to suffer theory”. Sure, they weren’t exactly having small talk, but she would’ve hated to feel pressured to reveal anything about herself. She had to be fair to Vic and offer space as well.

Nicole only chuckled at her honesty. She preferred that bluntness to anything else. Much easier to understand. “It’s a good thing it’s my dream then, no?” There was no attempt at sarcasm, just the small hope that Vic would understand a different perspective. “I would make stops… by the way” she assured her, looking to appease any other negative commentary. “Food, gas, showers…that kinda stuff. Sleep too– maybe. But yeah… uh, not for everyone”. Considering she had only started planning now, she was sure she’d have a much better idea the next time someone asked her. She looked away, focusing on Pax. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she considered explaining herself. “Just– uh… always wanted to travel. Never really got the chance, you know?”  

“I’d rather not”, Vic said, her eyes focused on Winnie.  “They’re probably insufferable.”  Happy people were generally insufferable- that was just a fact of life.  Rubbing their happiness in your face like they earned it, or something.  She huffed, as if there were a happy person right there in front of her then.  Nicole’s question caught her off guard, though, and she looked back toward her.  She hadn’t realized how much she divulged before, and hadn’t expected a follow up question.  She sat up straighter, wondering the best route to go here.  “Uh, work”, she said, looking back toward the dogs again.  She raised her eyebrows at them, hoping it would turn Nicole’s attention away. It wasn’t technically a lie, but bartending wasn’t the kind of work Vic has stuck around so long for. Did she already tell Nicole she was a bartender?  “I stick around because the tips are so good.  The art scene isn’t too bad either, I suppose.”

“It is”, Vic agreed with a smirk.  “Like I said, I’ve been all over.  It wasn’t a straight trip from Sweden to Maine.  It was more like a zig zag all over the world.”  She barely ever spent more than 10  years at a time in a town, lest the few people she interacted with noticed that she never aged.  “I’d heard… rumors. About White Crest.  Miserable ones, of course.  But I think that adds to your theory, right?  Misery loves company.”

Vic found herself smirking again, and she raised her eyebrows with a shrug at Nicole’s response.  “Maybe another reason I’m choosing to stay is that I’ve done my share of traveling.  Doing it for fun like you say can’t sound more mundane.”  There was a beat of silence between them before she continued.  “I hope it brings you what you’re looking for, though… this dream.  I hope Pax doesn’t scare the little children you meet along the way.”  Because he was ugly, of course.  “What’s kept you away from traveling for so long?”  

“Right, of course” It had all been hypothetical, but she should’ve expected Vic to have something to say about it. Truthfully, the idea of approaching a stranger and randomly asking them things made her anxiety rise, so Nicole wasn’t too heartbroken about the other woman scraping her idea. She hated the fact that Vic seemed to tense at her question, even if she was the one who prompted it. She made sure to look elsewhere – to Pax and Winnie, who still hadn’t tired themselves out – and she accepted the woman’s answer with further questions. “Work’s important. Good that it pays well” it was a little odd, sure. But not odd enough for her to get stuck thinking about it.

Nicole nodded as Vic expanded on her journey to Maine, hands still fidgeting with the leash. She wasn’t the first person who spoke to her about traveling around before settling in White Crest. Maybe it was a pattern, something else to investigate. It always filled her with something akin to jealousy, though. One day it would be her traveling instead, she promised. But it was the mention of rumors that made her lift her head, eyes narrowed when she dared to glance at Vic. Rumors. She knew then. About the supernatural. Even if she brushed it off the first time they talked about it. Even if she was trying to brush it off now, with a joke. “Right. See, I’m onto something”.

“That makes sense,” Nicole agreed. Maybe it would be the same for her. After a few years on the road, it was possible she could start missing a roof over her head. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Maybe she could settle somewhere else then. Maybe come back to White Crest, even. If the town finally decided to calm down. She had options, which filled her with hope she hadn’t felt in a while. “Appreciate that'' her grin faded quickly, a confused frown taking over her features instead. Why would Pax scare children? Almost as if he heard Vic utter his name, he came trotting towards them, tail wagging innocently. “You done?” she smiled at him, scratching behind his ear. It helped her gain some time while she pondered the woman’s question. “Life got busy, I guess”. Yeah. That was a lot easier than explaining she lost five years to a fucking jaguar, and then a couple more trying to put herself back together again. 

The dogs were barking and jumping and running, and Vic was sure that if they were children, they would have been giggling.  It was endearing to watch their innocence, and Vic wondered, briefly, if she had ever felt that carefree.  She finally looked back toward Nicole and nodded, glad that her explanation hadn’t prompted any more questions. She survived because people didn’t ask questions, and though she knew Nicole was harmless, there was always the chance someone was playing her in the same way she played them.

Before long, Pax and Winnie started sauntering over, panting and breathless after their playdate’s apparent end.  Winnie, for her part, sat in front of Vic, proud and tall and clearly waiting for a head pat.  It wasn’t long before she reached over and obliged.  She looked over at Nicole in understanding, sending a nod her way.  “That’s life, I guess.  Or time.  It rushes by you faster than most people realize.”  If anyone could speak on that with authority, it was Vic.  450 years, as they went by, had seemed like forever in the moment, but looking back on all her years made her realize how quickly they passed.  “I think it’s important to cherish your time as you get older”, she offered, clipping Winnie’s leash back on.  “With loved ones, and your interesting looking dog.”  She stood up from the bench, but smirked at Nicole as she did so, hoping she realized the playfulness in her tone.  “And, well… maybe we could do this again sometime before you go off on your travels, too.  Planned, of course, and not by Winnifred’s embarrassing methods she used today.”

At first It sounded like Vic’s usual nihilism. But somewhere in those words, behind her often cynical tone there was real advice. And Nicole stopped petting Pax and listened, really let those words sink in. Clearly there was more to Vic than meets the eye, as it was always the case with people in town. She was speaking from experience. Nicole didn’t have the knowledge then, to really understand why those words were laced with so much meaning, but she knew it was the most vulnerable Vic had been all evening. “Okay” she nodded, unsure what else to say to that. She would’ve liked to say that she was going to do exactly what Vic told her. That from now on she would have a new perspective on life, but it was easier said than done. She wasn’t going to lie to her. But she supposed she had to continue to try until change finally came. 

The impromptu playdate, for example, had been surprisingly nice. Even though some time ago she would’ve hated the idea of it. Of sharing a bench with someone she barely knew. But she did okay. She spoke full sentences; it didn’t fill her with crippling anxiety. And that was enough to make her appreciate Vic. She watched the woman get up, but Nicole stayed there, trying to get Pax back on the leash. “Maybe, yeah… that’d be–” she let out a laugh, feeling confident enough to give Winnie some goodbye pets. “C’mon. Her methods are perfect” she smiled, glancing up at Vic. She nodded, maybe too small for the woman to notice. Yes, they’d see each other again. It wasn’t often her encounters with strangers went so well, but as she watched Vic and Winnie walk away, she couldn’t help but to look forward to the next. 

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Hi, I hope I'm not bothering you, but before anything, I hope you have a great day and take care of yourself 🌟

Some heacanons for Undertaker, Snake and Sebastian with a fem S/O who's basically a Kitsune? Just like Sebastian, she has a human form and a "demon" form, and her Kitsune form has the usual bigass 9, super fluffy tails and cute ears.

She's usually very teasing, loves to mess around, to trick and play funny, harmless pranks on anyone.

( Like, maybe she trips someone with one of her tails, temporarily transforms in other people, or transforms one object into another for a brief moment aka plays around with illusions and stuff )

I know it's a rather weird request, and you really don't have to do it if it's too weird, haha, but I really think messing around with Sebastian or the servants like that would ultimately be super hilarious~~

Or maybe she can even mess with Ciel's enemies who come dine with him 😂🦊

hihi, you’re never bothering me, I promise!! <3

and this is definitely not the weirdest request I’ve ever gotten, not that I really think any requests are weird! they’re all just different and I treasure each and every one even if it’s not something I write often

and I really liked doing this! my favorite is Snake’s because I’m a sap XD

SEBASTIAN

Oh… dear… she’s too adorable. If there was any doubt about it, a partner who shares physical traits with a cat is his biggest weakness. The ears? The tails? All that fluffy cuteness? He’s… he’s pretty well done for. There are some occasions where it’s to the point that if she wants something and just purrs, that’s all it takes for him to give in.

That said, Sebastian is definitely someone who can appreciate her playful nature… as long as it doesn’t happen to be causing problems for him. (Name) typically has to keep her distance from the estate because of Ciel’s allergy, but when she is around, it’s free entertainment for Sebastian. Provided she doesn’t mess with the servants so much that it makes a huge mess for him to have to clean up, he enjoys watching her play her tricks. Heaven help her if she does screw things up for him at all; even his precious S/O has no immunity from his disappointed glares.

Actually, he finds it most hilarious whenever she fucks with Ciel in any way. And she can do that with her presence alone, or by simply ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the face with her tails, or by switching her body with his so that the poor earl is literally allergic to himself. Much as Sebastian does his best to publicly cover up such sadistic proclivities, he can’t deny that he finds Ciel’s suffering very, very amusing.

Whenever she’s resting, he likes to pet her. He runs a hand over her tails or scratches behind her ears ― and will happily do so for hours if he isn’t stopped. More than once Ciel has found the two of them asleep in a chair by the fireplace… when Sebastian was supposed to be running Ciel’s bath. Although he will never hear the end of such things, Sebastian thinks it’s worth any lecture or punishment Ciel will give him.

(Name) is allowed to pull one, single, solitary prank on Sebastian every year. It’s often her most thought-out and elaborate one, as opposed to her simple ones on everyone else through the rest of the year. Usually, when this trick finally comes to fruition, everyone else is standing there with their eyes wide and mouths gaping, silently asking each other, Has she just done that? Of course, Sebastian always just laughs. Everyone has concluded that (Name) is not to be fucked with, because fucking with anyone to whom Sebastian is devoted on that level will not end well.

SNAKE

She… reminds him a little bit of Joker or Dagger. Someone who’s lighthearted and always smiling or doing funny things is a blessing to Snake, even if sometimes he might be shy about the whole situation. (Name) is a very different person from him, so it’s an adjustment. They’re living proof that opposites attract, though… he does care about her a great deal.

With some pranks, like if she trips someone with her tails, he gets a little worried! He just can’t help it; he knows small things that seem harmless can sometimes backfire. Though, when he sees that she knows who’s used to her tricks, who can take the hit, and she doesn’t do anything dangerous, he relaxes a little. If she ever trips him, ah ― the snakes will do their best to catch him, but he’s probably going to be awfully red-faced for a short while. Damn, he knows what she’s like and he literally fell for it!

Although it starts out as a prank, when (Name) switches their bodies for a short time, it’s more intimate than anything. Despite the fact that he is incredibly disoriented by suddenly being in a female body, let alone his S/O’s body, he gets to see her in his body. More than that, he gets to see himself through her eyes. It’s different than looking in a mirror; he doesn’t see his flaws as flaws anymore. Is his hair really that endearing even when it’s always a bit messy? Do his scales actually shimmer with a gentle, silvery iridescence, making him look beautiful and otherworldly, instead of like an ugly freak? Is his smile really that… nice? It started out as a prank, and he’s surely distressed until he’s back in his own skin… and yet… in her quest for amusement, (Name) has helped her lover see himself in a different light.

Sigh… oh, she most certainly uses his snakes to prank people. Why? Because they see her as someone safe who adores them, so they don’t usually fight her if she picks them up. Thankfully, she knows to avoid using any of the snakes who are venomous, just in case they happen to bite if startled. She owns up to it being her idea, but if a bunch of snakes suddenly spring out of the pantry one more blessed time, Bard’s going to ban them all from the kitchen!!

Snake really, really likes to feel her fur. The skin of reptiles is so much unlike that of her fur, the texture he gets when his fingers rest on top of her ears is… wow. Honestly, he could sleep very soundly ― and in fact has ― cuddled into her, with his cheek nuzzled against her fluffy tails.

UNDERTAKER

Hee-hee… he’s definitely got a special little lady on his hands! If there’s anyone who enjoys a good prank, it’s him. He loves watching her carry out these schemes of hers, even if they don’t require too much planning. After all, a cheap laugh is as good as any other. It’s also a joy to him that he found a woman who has such a prominent sense of humor. This kind of S/O is all he’s ever really wanted in life!

Well… when he’s still in work as a mortician, he encourages her to play tricks on his customers. It’s nothing too involved, the same kinds of things he does himself ― popping out of a coffin, offering them biscuits from an (unused!!) urn… turning herself invisible before brushing up against them with her tail. It’s especially funny when members of the Phantomhive household come to visit and she can play pranks on them.

To that note, it is of incredible amusement to him when she plays her pranks on the Undertaker himself! He has exactly no problems with being a victim of her tripping him or switching out his ink for honey, and in fact is one of the few people who can openly laugh at himself without any embarrassment no matter what kind of prank’s been pulled on him. He just giggles at whatever it was, grinning brightly at her as if she’s just made his entire day. However… (Name) should probably be prepared for him to get back at her with a joke of his own in the same vein as whatever she did. If allowed, it has the potential to escalate into an all-out prank war, so… she should just be a bit careful.

If she’s up for it, occasionally he will walk her on a leash through London’s streets to shock the populace. Not only is that image brazen and sensational enough to likely induce some ladies to faint, he’s parading a supernatural creature through the streets. Most people will think it’s some kind of costume, but he just gets a kick out of causing a scandal like that. He thinks it’s the funniest thing ever… the papers will be talking about it for weeks!

Genuinely believes she’s one of the best things in his life. She’s added many more laughs to his daily goings-on, and not to mention she’s an absolute treat to cuddle with at night. He doesn’t require as much sleep as she does, so he can stay awake long after she’s drifted off, just… looking at her. Much as he doesn’t feel the need to treat her like glass, he’s still soft for her in a way he isn’t for many people.

[bigkyloenergy]

𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔𝙀𝘿 𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙈

CHAPTER II.

a witcher!kylo x reader fic. dark themes, smut ahead. 18+.

summary: you are a barmaid / stablewoman at an inn in toussaint, kylo ren, one of the last of the witchers from the school of the viper regularly stays at the establishment. you wonder what keeps him coming back.

read on ao3.

Nothing could make up for Kylo, the Viper — whoever he was -- making you cum then leaving you stranded once again. At least, that was what you told yourself when you’d collected the coin from the bed, the pile he’d always left, the pay and extra that could afford him another three weeks there. 

You swore under your breath, cursed the Viper who left your thighs warm with need, unable to tie your bodice without the memory of his assertive hands, demanding to see every part of you.

But those words caught in your mouth the moment you turned, running directly into his chest.

   “What are you doing here?”

  “Uh — what? I mean, no — I’m... was closing up your room,” you explained quickly. You could feel his gaze burning through you.  “Thought you had um — checked out for the night.” 

  “That isn’t your job.” 

It was the truth. Your duties weren’t supposed to go past the care of the horses (which you refused to give up), and the front for customer service. The tidying of the inn was left to Myra, the innkeep had hired her the moment she gained the budget for her. Not that they wouldn’t mind making you pick up an extra task. But this task-- the motivation was all your own. 

  “So why are you in here?” 

You finally met his gaze, the connection wrapping you in a warmth so deep it burned fear into your consciousness. He heard you, he was trying to pull it out of you. You could have swore he didn’t blink the entire time he was staring at you.

The black surrounding his face brought out his eyes in a way that was deadly, framing them, charming you until there was nothing left in your brain but the galactic orgasm you’d experienced weeks (what felt like years with him in your presence) prior. He wanted you to forget. That gaze dropped to your neck, where your pulse would be, before he reached up and wrapped his hand around the entirety of your throat. 

Then the innkeep was making her way in the door, and Kylo was hesitantly dropping his hold. But he never took his eyes from you. It made you feel so supernaturally bare. 

  “Oh. Sorry, sir — I’d thought you’d gone by now,” the woman said, though she was shooting daggers at you. Like it was your fault he’d stayed.

Was it? 

  “Hm.”

  “Did she say something? I can have Myra take care of you, if you ne—” 

  “I don’t.” 

And with that, he turned, and your breath was released from your chest. He ducked under the door, and Miss Betty lurched forward to snatch your arm. “Have you any idea who that is, what he is, you daft thing?”

 Squinting your eyes, you leered at her, “What does it matter?” The room was fuzzy from yet another adrenaline-spiking meeting with the Viper. You looked after the doorway, then back to the woman, tearing your arm away from her, “He pays enough coin to keep us afloat. You should be thanking me.”

  “He’s a Witcher.  A mutant. A monster who slays monsters. Stay away from him. I can’t afford for you to lose your innards.” 

If only she knew. 

But you only stared, her words licking a cold up your body. And you believed her, like she had just given you a piece of the puzzle that was the Viper. Taking your hand, she picked every piece of gold from your grip, holding it for a moment too long, “You stay away from him. You hear me?” You just nodded, allowing her to collect what belonged to her before you went back to the bar. Where you belonged.

You took in the entirety of the inn, hoping you’d see him on your way downstairs, the only customer being the cook, Ruek, leaning over your spot yielding a mug heavy with ale. 

Going behind the counter, you found a rag and made yourself busy, wiping glasses that didn’t need to be cleaned. You felt his eyes on you.

  “What?”

  “Nothin’, just… the Witcher came out, then my mother came after you… then you after her, now your cheeks are all flush and I’m just curious is all.”

  “There you all go with that word again. What is that? I just thought they were sorcerers like any other. Bounty hunters. Inspiration for bards.” Your eyes rolled, rag squeezing in your hand the same way it did the night he’d made home in your subconscious. 

Ruek clicked his tongue, “Might as well break your ignorance if you’re going to be changing his sheets. That man… if you even want to call him that, is Toussaint’s greatest curse..” 

What you knew about the cook in the Pheasantry wasn’t much, but you did know that he had traveled inns upon inns just to cook for different breeds of people. His eyes were wise with stories, knowledged wrinkles framing his kind smile, you trusted him more than most of the folks that you worked with. Not that Beauclair was a bad city.. 

  “Curse? You’re starting to sound like your mother.” 

  “I’m sorry. I’m just surprised you don’t know any of this. You look …” He searched your eyes, before sighing, “am I just scaring you?”

  “No, I want to know. Your mom was trying to do that, for my own good probably,” you scrunched your nose, knowing she'd never try to purposely scare you. She looked out for you to the best of her capability, a mother to most who ended up employed here, “I mean, you said I should know. So just tell me.” 

  “Okay. You know about the monsters in the waters, right? The sailor special— drowners.” Ruek laughed at his own joke.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about those, yeah. That’s why you don’t go into them alone, especially at night. But they’re no real threat.” Ugly blue humanoids that looked like overgrown fish, their teeth sharp enough to shred skin..

  “You’re not wrong, but I’m not talking about those kind of monsters. That’s my point. Normal Witchers were made to save us from those creatures, protect our villages, keep us safe from impending doom. The only reason those monsters aren’t a threat is because of them.”

  “So they’re .. guards against the supernatural?” You asked, trying to understand why you should be afraid of a man whose targets weren’t human.

  “To put it lightly. Those are the stories you hear. They do it for coin, usually, contracts are pinned calling to them for help to save a child or survey a forest… all of them come from different schools, not sure why, but as boys they were all either sold off, given as rewards or to put it bluntly: taken. I’ve heard some of them don’t even know their real name, had to name themselves because Witchers aren’t exactly… you know, warm. You following along?” 

You nodded, his eyes an image in your head, luring you just as they did every time you were in front of him. Ridding you of any other focus. “Different schools? Like there’s more than one kind of Witcher?” 

  “Sure, I’m not… really sure how many, or even if any stand. After they get initiated, if that’s what you want to call it. They go through erm.. Trials? Mutations of the bodies, to make them more apt for being able to go against these beasts. Some of them don’t make it, most of them didn’t. In fact, that Viper is probably twice — fuck, maybe even three times my age.” 

  “Wait, what?” 

  “Yeah. Mutations do a helluva lot of things to their genetics, including life span. Their senses are heightened to a way we as humans wouldn’t even be able to describe. Wouldn’t call them mages, but they can wield magic with their hands. They’re called something…” 

  “Signs.” Miss Betty answered as she trailed down the stairs, making you jerk from Ruek’s gaze. But she just continued on, as if she hadn’t added to your conversation. 

He nodded, “Yeah. Specific magics for their fighting needs. Anyway. The necklace they have, the medallion — all of them wear it, represents the school they’re from. Pretty sure it has to do with their freaky senses too. But that one, he’s called the Viper because that is the school that taught him. And… well, they were destroyed years ago. For not submitting to the new government. Even others Witchers say to this day, they don’t even know where it was located. Many think of him as an assassin because it isn’t part of the Witcher morale to take contracts on humans, even lesser threats of beasts… but a Viper takes the deal no matter whose head it is.”

  “No more.” Betty interrupted, taking the glass from in front of you to break what felt like a trance, “she can listen to the drunkards and bards to hear the rest of it. You’re off for the day, consider it a mental break.” 

The inkeep grinned, almost as a farewell, leaving you to give Ruek an apologetic shrug. Not that you didn’t want to listen, but it almost seemed like he was trying to scare you.

Nonetheless, you were off, your mind running through what you’d just been told. Taking the bag that hung over your shoulder, you decided to go back to your house first to change. You’d already taken a bath last night, after you’d touched yourself enough to make your wrist numb. You whimpered his name in the confines of your washroom, tested it on your tongue, hoped that you would get a glimpse of him the next day. 

But all you had gotten was the interaction this morning and your rushing thoughts. Honestly, you didn’t even know that he had come back. It had been another three weeks since he’d touched you in the stables, maybe a few days more… not that you were counting. 

Have you been fantasizing about some otherworldly being? Was he even human? You couldn’t verify that yourself, and his fingers had been inside of you. The only thing you’d seen of his face wasn’t exactly humane. Yet, the Viper didn’t scare you. You were curious, ready to set gasoline to the flame licking inside of you. 

Another bath. That was what you needed.You’d change from your bright work gown, put on some trousers. You wished Ruek’s story had scared you, prepared you for another three weeks without seeing Kylo, another three weeks imagining your fingers were his own. 

But it didn’t. 

Your hand wrapped around your own throat, sighing gently before it began to trail into the water.

———

A basket was tucked low in your elbow as you made your way through the market, deciding against curling up in your bed for the rest of the evening. You knew exactly what would come of that. 

The best of goods were being offered by merchants that beckoned you over, colors decorating their tents, the scent of fresh bread in the air. Children ran past you to chase one another in a game you were sure you played when you were younger. 

Your hair dried at your shoulders, cheeks still flush from the scorching water you’d made in a futile attempt to shed the inn’s recent events. 

  “Ma’am! Fresh fish, finest in all of Toussaint!” 

You turned, looking to the merchandise, scales reflecting off of the coral buildings. 

“A pound for half the price!” 

You gave a tight smile, but continued on — until you ran so hard into someone that your feet lost all memory of balance. They caught you at your arms, stabilizing you as if you weighed close to nothing. 

  “The idea of following someone is to not let them notice you.” The voice caught in your ears like a starving venus plant, unknowingly holding onto his forearms. 

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” You took a step back, dropping your hands, the Viper still wide in your gaze. 

He had been tucking something into his bag, quick to have it blend back into the mass of black. The sun still kissed the sky, enough to see him in a different light — one that could be argued for a better view than the horizon. His armor consumed the rays, shining an iridescence off of it that you didn’t even know black could make. By the time you made it back to his gaze, you noticed him taking your body in as if it were one of the things being offered at the market. The mask carved barely above his nose, you identified a scar just over his left eye.  

He seemed to suck in a long breath, and you wouldn’t have noticed if it didn’t somehow make him larger. 

You wanted to make conversation, but his gaze was already bored, and you were desperately scrambling to gain his attention, “If I were to follow you, it wouldn’t be in a market.”

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to give you permission to go on. You plucked a green apple from your basket, rolling it between your fingers, “I would do it somewhere where I’d find you alone, maybe even follow you to your camp and wait there until you found me.” Teeth broke into the fruit, and you spread your lips on it, suckling the juices as they dripped down your chin. You brought your hand up to scoop it back into your mouth, keeping eye contact as if you were on trial.

  “Come.” 

  “What?”

Again, he didn’t answer. It was growing to be a pattern between you. He simply mirrored your stare for a pinch of a moment before he turned on his heel. You scurried behind him like a starved pup. 

As Kylo passed through the crowd, he didn’t bother to shift out of anyone’s way — they did it for him. He glided between bodies, never letting anyone dare to brush against him while he stomped with determined direction. 

You followed him until you were tucked in an alley, but he didn’t give you a moment to question him before your front was pressed against warm brick, hips secured to the wall by his own. You gasped at the hard outline through his leather pants, nails digging into the grates in the wall. The back of your mind begged you to remember the things you were just told, but the fingers that snaked over the nape of your neck and into your hair coaxed those thoughts away. 

He yanked it back, forcing you to lean against his chest as he pushed himself into your behind. Your body immediately responded to him, heart thumping in your ears like a war drum with the anticipation of feeling him again. In any way he would give you. 

A dam broke, your blood was replaced with molten lava, the only thing to keep you from focusing too much on your already shuddering breath was the hand that came down on your ass. Hard. 

 You yelped, hips edging into the alley, but there was no escape. This only drove the Witcher on, palm, punishing the same tender spot he had just gifted you. 

  “Shit!” 

You gasped, the warmth becoming more noticeable in the root of your most sensitive bits. 

  “You walk around like this and expect me not to take you?” 

A frustrated huff met your confusion, his palm flat against your belly, arm wrapped over your front to grab the inside of your thighs, kneading them in appreciation. His target wasn’t particular, enjoying the way you felt. 

His fingers hooked into your waistband, catching your panties in the process as he tugged them down your legs. A growl followed, one that ricocheted through the narrow space he had commandeered. You whimpered in response, blood rushing to the tips of your ears when you felt him crouch behind you.  

Leaning your chest into the rock, you spread your legs as much as your trousers at your ankles would allow, and then you felt teeth sink into your cheek, free hand collecting the pillowy curves of your behind. Your eyes rolled, his leathered digits squeezing marks into your waist as he pulled you into his mouth.

And that was when it hit you.

His mask was off. Kylo’s mouth was on you. 

Another moan. At first you thought it was him — you didn’t recognize it, but your mouth was gaping with proof that the foreign noise had just fled your chest. And this only enabled him. 

First, it was his nose. Spreading your folds open and using it as a doorway for his tongue to explore, angling through them until he found the nub, swirling the agile muscle against it. 

You so badly wanted to tug his hood down, wrap your fingers in the raven locks that that you’d glimpsed, but you had nothing but the wall for security, the roughness of the stone. And the Viper’s godly mouth luring you further into his will. 

One hand stayed on your cheek, massaging and spreading it while his head ducked between your legs to send you into a pleasure frenzy. 

  “Yesyesyes, fuck — right there.” 

He opened his jaw further to suck your swollen pussy into his mouth, your juices saturating his chin while he tamed you. 

An impatient nip scathed your skin, only for him to begin to move his head in a way that you knew no other ordinary man could replicate. 

Ghosting a hand up your spine, the Viper took a heavy grasp of the back of your neck, forcing you forward. Your forehead met the grainy siding, you twisted in an attempt to move your face away from it. In such quick movement the harsh stone dragged along your temple, scraping your skin, the hiss of pain melting into a cocktail of affirmations. 

For the second time, something clicked.

I want to hear it the next time I make you cum. 

The memory alone had you jerking down into his merciless mouth, the Viper growling in return, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. He stretched you open, your jaw clenching while two unforgiving fingers entered you.

Your feet were nearly lifting off of the ground from the force of his devoir. 

The savory noises coming from you were just as easy as your breath, you couldn’t open your eyes at that point, your lids too heavy with carnal gratification. 

No longer did you care who the Viper was, but what his name was when it would pass your lips. 

Curving to the part that would absolutely demolish you, the Witcher took care in carving you out to remind you of his demand, with the same fingers he had made promises of death with. You gave it to him, your jaw slacking as incoherent encouragement for him to continue while he sucked your pulsing clit into his mouth, plunging into you so hard your body jiggled with his movements. 

  “Kylo!” 

The shriek vibrated your skull, body jerking with the restraints of his large grip while you melted in his mouth. He took a few more lazy slurps, finishing you off before he left you to pull up your pants, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if you could overpower a mutant that everyone spun tales about.

By the time you caught another glimpse of him, his muzzle was secured back. He looked at you from under half-lidded eyes, as if he hadn’t just planted another seed for your damnation. 

  “I thought you were leaving,” you blurted as he exited the temporary hideaway.

He quirked his head slightly, still statequsue as he considered you. “I am.” 

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[alch3mic]

in between. (drabble series)

chapter two (cracks.)

beast!sans x gender neutral reader. 3k+ word count.

please be advised for themes of self-loathing, violence, mentions of death, self-harm, a whole lot of cursing and depression.

* finally, here is chapter two! this one focuses more on my dear underfell sans named beast! if you’d like to know more about him, feel free to check out his full fic here over on ao3, or his tag here on my tumblr. thank you for being patient with me and i hope you all enjoy!

Beauty.

.....

..There were very few things that came to Sans' mind when thinking of that word.

After all he was probably the last person who should be havin’ an opinion on anything based on looks, but still.. a few things always came to mind.

Like the stars, of course.

And the sky.

Those things were beautiful.

..It also made him think of other things like..

Having a full day to do absolutely nothing, which was always great.

Or better yet a freshly made burger from Grillby’s, complete with the works and extra mustard.

Now that was a real thing of beauty.

...

It... also made him think of...

...Roses.. as corny as that was. 

Sans never thought he'd come around to admiring flowers after living in that snowy and lifeless town all his life... and after one flower in particular gave him a hell of a lot of trouble.. but hey, living topside had certainly gave him a whole fucking list of surprises.

..Like.. 

The most recent addition to the small list of things he found beautiful.

...

...Which was you...

....

Even now thinking about you and that gentle glow of your soul made him tremble, and how just the single word ‘beautiful’ came to mind when he laid his eyelights upon you.

And that's.. certainly something he'd never expected to think about a human...

He was a Fell after all, and to them... appearance was everything. 

From the clothes you wore, to the way you looked, everything single last detail about you was judged. That's because the very first lesson all Fell monster children were taught was that in this world, it was kill or be killed. 

The people around them were not friends.  

They were not neighbors or allies.  

They were competition, tools and objects to be used to elevate themselves into a position of strength and status so that they may one day be considered worthy living in the eyes of their king. The Underground was their prison, and the other monsters who were also unfortunate enough to be born in that fucking hellhole with them were their test...

So.. Would you kill, or would you be killed..?

...

Obviously, many bared their teeth and claws to survive. 

Life was a gift reserved only for the strong.

Weakness was a disease that was to be purged, and their king had entrusted his people to enact such a cleansing in his stead. For every monster to be given such a power over one another shaped their entire Underground into the dusty inferno that it was, eating it's people and their hope alive in it's cleaning flames. Only the brave and the mighty could prevail in that nightmare, and those who failed to prove themselves capable of even defending themselves from other monsters were... unfit.. to become warriors worthy of one day taking down humanity.

..So they were dusted..  

And their EXP was the reward for those who did the deed, only making the strong, stronger...

...

For them, there was only value in strength.

In EXP.

In.. LOVE.

Emotions were a handicap.

Kindness was vulnerability.

There was only happiness to be found in being more powerful that everyone else around you.

There was only a future for you if you could prove yourself to everyone that you were worthy of getting to live another day by pushing all of that other unnecessary bullshit down, like feelings or regret, and killing everyone around you so that you could survive in that unending hell...! 

..But.. 

...Such stats like EXP and LV were usually hidden to the naked eye. Unless a monster was born with the very rare ability to see stats with their sight, the only way to see those stats was checking through an encounter, and at that point it would be much too late. Even the smallest of creatures, with innocent smiles and bright shiny eyes, could be hiding something truly sinister beneath.

So, what better way to prove yourself and show off how strong you were than with scars.

Scars were the physical, undeniable proof of your mettle and determination. They were the marks across your fur, skin or scales that showed you had fought someone and walked away, which was quite the feat considering that under the king's decree, no encounter was ever allowed to end without a single winner and one pile of dust... 

....

..The more scars you had the better, because it meant you were strong. 

They were complimented, sought after and coveted above everything else for the Fell. Anyone with half a working soul would know it was fucking stupid to fight someone who looked tougher than you, so those with more scars got to live more peaceful lives. 

They didn't have to live in fear of being picked off for just looking weak.. 

Those with scars were respected. 

They were admired. 

They were made out to be the pinnacle of a your existence.

And many in their desperation to be considered strong, began inflicted wounds upon themselves to get a taste of that life. They began scarring up their bodies just so that others would think that they too were worthy of living too.

It really was..

..Awful.

What an awful way to live.

What an awful thing to go through!

What an.. awful thing to be the product of.

But.. it had been their reality.. and it shaped the person San had grown to be. That's why he could only wonder why his head was spinning with thoughts of you. 

A human. 

Soft. 

Small. 

Someone who laid all of their emotions bare when they struck a cord on their guitar, opening their heart up for a moment and just letting it all go.

You were the complete and total opposite of someone like him.

Huge.

Ugly.

And.. very guarded. ...

He had spent most of his life actively pushing others away from him.  

He had to, so he could protect himself. 

So many monsters had weaponized feelings like love and attraction in their favor to get other monsters to let their guard down, and he wasn't about to become a pile of dust just because he was fucking lonely. One thing he promised himself about going through that hell was that he wouldn't let his emotions get the better of him.

He still had someone he cared for after all, and he didn’t want to leave his brother to live out that nightmare alone. 

..The only reason they were both still here today was because they had each other..

So, he convinced himself he wasn't interested in romance.

It'd only bring unnecessary trouble. 

He'd have no datemates, no interests, and most certainly..

No soulmate.

He was already convinced he didn't have one anyways, but he always swore to himself that if he found them he wouldn't let himself get sappy over it like some other idiots did.

The most he'd ever let himself do is spend a night trying to forget the fact that he was trapped in this fucking nightmare with another monster and that was it. There was no sense getting attached, someone would just turn and use that feeling against him in the end.

...

...And yet.. 

...He had spent all those years building up a wall... 

And then just completely turned around and allowed himself to fall head over heels with one beautiful little human.

....

The skeleton let out a small groan, pinching the bridge of his nasal bone while shaking his head at the mirror. The steam from his shower was still clinging to the edges, but he could still see his dumbass reflection clear as day even in the dark.

Just... what the fuck was he doing?

...

..Setting himself up for soulbreak, that's what.

There's no way in hell a human could ever love a Fell, especially one like him. There was a reason they called him Beast! What you saw was what you got, and the crack in his skull should've been proof enough of how broken he was.

There was no sparkling personality and certainly no handsome prince hiding underneath all this

..It was just him..

....

Staring at his reflection for so long in the mirror made him want to break the damn thing, but he really didn't want to get another skull full from Papyrus from doing it twice in the same month.

'JUST SHOWER IN THE DARK SO YOU DON'T SEE YOUR REFLECTION IF YOU HATE IT THAT MUCH YOU IDIOT!'

...

Right. Yeah.. Sure..

A very simple solution to a very simple problem.

It's not like he's been struggling with self image already since his childhood days, especially considering he had only been born with 1 HP, 1 ATK and 1 DEF.

..Heh. Still made him laugh, thinking about it now.

...

..It.. must've been a joke, right? 

..To be born with stats like those? 

Surely whoever was running this gig was laughing their fucking ass off about it too, sending this sorry sack of bones out into a violent world with one miserable point of fucking HP.

...

...Well, he certainly hopes whoever cursed himself to such a fate also found it all funny..

..'Cause he was going to beat the shit out of them if he ever found them..

...

Most of his childhood had been spent in fear due to that knowledge.

Fear of the day he would finally enter an encounter.

The day when someone, somewhere out there would realize he had been the easiest target of all, and that just one strike would be enough for his pathetic little life to come to an end. Then he'd end up being nothing more than a pitiful pile of dust and a few meager points of EXP to someone else, and that would be the end of Sans the skeleton.

...

It would’ve been a fitting existence for a monster only born with those kinds of stats.

...

..He really thought that there was.. no way someone like him could ever be strong. 

There was no chance in hell he'd ever survive down there. 

...A part of him wished he never even knew.

Maybe life would've been so scary down there if he had just never known he only had only 1 HP to hang on to.

..Maybe.. he wouldn't of turned out this way...

...

In the end it would've be painless.

With only 1 HP it'd just take one hit and then it'd be all over.

One hit and he'd be done.

One hit and he'd be free.

....

It was an.. accident, the first time he activated his sight magic. He was still just a kid, standing up on a stepping stool and practicing scary faces in the mirror. He remembers it startled the absolute stars out of him when it happened since he was just trying to change the color of his white eyelights to be more threatening, but instead he...

..Well.. when he gazed back into the mirror his eyelights were definitely red.

And he could definitely see it, clear as day. 

"Sans" LV 1 HP 1/1 ATK 1 DEF 1

......

...

...

"ya've.. gotta be jokin'.. right..?"

He remembers the silence that followed after saying that, nobody around to respond to him. Nobody was there to reassure him that'd it'd be alright. No one was there to support or care for him, or to help him through the fear settling into his bones. 

Really... it must've been a joke, right? 

That couldn't.. really be his stats.. right?

The phrase came out a second time, and then several more, each and every time the words picking up momentum as the maelstrom of feelings brewed in his chest louder and louder. It swished and swirled, sucking up his thoughts one by one and the whole room felt like it was spinning around him. He wanted to look away, his red eyelights unable to gaze at anything but his stats, even as the tears came to his eyesockets.

..No..

It couldn't.. 

It just.. couldn't!

....

...How.. 

..How was he suppose to be strong with those kinds of stats?! 

He had to be strong!

He told Papyrus every morning and every night that he was strong!

He told his brother that he'd be become most powerful monster in the whole damn Underground, that way they didn't have to live in a shoddy broken down house!

That way they could live their lives free of worry!

That way they didn't..

...have to be.. 

....so scared anymore..

...

How.. how was he suppose to be survive..

With only 1 HP..?

....

...

..

His fists clenched, the reality of it all setting in as the number remained unchanged no matter how much he begged and pleaded. The fear melted away into anger, shooting through ever inch of his body like someone had ignited a fire through his bones. It spread rapidly, clouding his mind in a hazy and hateful fog as he stared at the number.

He couldn't think. 

All he could see was 1 HP.

1 HP.

1 HP.

1 HP.

....

...

..

...One hit is all it took to break the mirror.

His fist connected and the glass shattered, small shards flying everywhere as he screamed out in frustration. The tears fell and he yelled again, unable to handle the heat of his hatred as he sobbed alone in the bathroom. Soon a few deep breaths left his mouth followed by a string of curses, the pain in his hand causing him to reel back a bit and inspect it through his tears. Small scrapes littered his phalanges from the impact, his hand now buzzing with a dull pain as he clutched it and glanced back up at the mirror.

His once clear reflection was distorted by twisted and ugly cracks, scattering and creating a broken image of himself.

One hit was all it took for the mirror to become break.

One hit.. and it..

...Shattered.

...Just like..

He would.. 

....

Imagine his surprise when he didn't.

...

He took a blow.. and lived.

And.. it became the very first scar he had ever earned..

...

....And he.. hated it.

He hated it what it did to him. He hated what it stood for. He hated the way it traveled up his dumb fucking face, always catching everyone's attention. He hated the fact that he got complimented about it back in the Underground. He hates how it's become his defining feature. He hated to how it lead to so many more scars, so many more battles, and so much more EXP, washing away his once poor stats in a wave of dust and bloating them to.. terrifying numbers.

He just..

Hated it.

...

Like how he hated himself.

...

..Ugh.

Great.  Now his head was swishing around with self-deprecating thoughts about the present and the past, which he really didn't need right now. If he started acting depressed again he'd be given another certified Papyrus pep talk, and as much as he loved that egotistical bonehead he really didn't need to hear his brother prattle on for hours about his 'good qualities' and how their 'past doesn't define them'.

He sighed a final time before pulling a sweater over his head, feeling it catch and snag on some of his rougher breaks and notches on his bones. He stomped out of the bathroom, rubbing the back of his skull in frustration at himself for allowing one human to get his thoughts swishing around that broken head of his.

..Well.. 

It's not like he could've done anything else to prevent this. He had already steeled his emotions back when he realized how pathetic his stats had been, but all that had work just practically vanished the moment he laid his eyelights on you.

..It had.. only been a brief second too. 

He had just been trailing down a runaway client after they missed their third payment. The brothers had a three strike policy, which was.. a little generous for Sans' taste but hey, he was just the brawn here not the brains, so three strikes it was... 

This idiot was already on his shit list for taking advantage of their generosity and missing a third fucking payment, but then they had the fuckin' nerve to run. If there was one thing Sans hated, it was a runner.

..It was just kinda pointless, ya know? All it did was delay the inevitable and give him more work to do, as if his days weren't filled to fucking the brim with shit already. Seriously, it's like these humans had no fucking consideration for a busy skeleton like himself...

Assholes. 

Still, they ran and he gave 'chase'. All he had to do was keep shortcutting as he anticipated their every step, catching them off-guard and sent them bolting off in another direction. Bastard was slippery though and having already spent most of the day working Sans’ aim was a little off. It was becoming more and more infuriating until he nearly managed to corner the bastard.

What he did not expect was for his little runaway to dive into a busy, shitty looking bar like somehow they'd lose him in there.

..And to be fair, they did.. for a moment...

...

..When his eyelights landed upon you, after taking just a few small steps inside.

....

...

You were beautiful.. 

....That was the only thought he had.

...

The lights had casted you into an angelic glow up on that stage, illuminating your form in a soft shade of yellow as you bobbed and swayed to the music. A small yet sweet smile was gracing your lips, your soul shining so brightly in the crowd that it was like a flame, and he was just a dumb fucking moth drawing ever closer. 

..Then you struck a cord on your guitar... 

...and it reverberated into his very soul.

....

It was.. so sad.

And a little lonely...

Tired.

Overworked.

Underpaid.

And... 

Free.

...

He had been so completely entranced by you that it almost felt like you put him under some kind of spell. Never in his life had he been so captivated by anyone, fully admitting to himself now that he would've just scooped you up right on the spot and fled off into the night if given the chance. 

..And.. a part of him was still wishing he had..

...

...The seconds had ticked away as he watched you perform, giving enough time for that rat to slip out the back and out into the night.

Shame that little bastard never made it very far in the end, but the whole fiasco had left Sans' head buzzing with the human who had completely stopped him in his tracks for what felt like an eternity now. You had looked so serene up there and he couldn't stop the fluttering of his soul in his chest every time he thought about you.

And he was thinking about you a lot.

...Which is exactly why he was also so annoyed with himself.

...

...Argh fucking.. damn it all..!

At least if he was only thinking pervy things he could let it slide as feeling lonely again, but no! Not a single perverted thought had crossed his stupid fucking head about you! It was all mundane shit, like wanting to see you smile like that again or maybe just getting a single chance to talk to you. Instead of spending his free time relaxing, he was just sitting around daydreaming about how beautiful your voice must be too and how much he just wanted to.. see you again!!

Ahh! What the fuck was wrong with him!

Just where the hell was all of this coming from, huh!?

It's like you were pulling something outta him that shoulda never been there in the first place..!

...How fucking dare you..!

....

...How dare you.. 

Do this to him..

...

It was too late for.. someone like him, with sullied hands and scars, to be thinking like this..

....

The only thing he deserved was to be a lonely fucking bastard.

...

If... you ever came anywhere close to him he'd just.. sully you too...

...

...

..

And yet.. despite knowing that he..

Just wanted a chance.

Just one, to see you again..

And maybe.. talk to you...

Just one single chance..

....Please...

And if you went off screaming into the night like he figured you would then..

That’d be the end of it.

He’d snuff out that little flame of hope inside his soul, and then he’d live out his lonely days hating his stupid reflection ..

..Like he deserved...

.....

....

...

..

"..Okay." 

....

You.. said yes. 

Stars above you had said yes, he..! 

He couldn’t help but smile in response as his while body felt lighter than air. Although your first meeting wasn’t at all like he had hoped you were..

Here.

And right now he has a chance..

"heh. cool.. cool.. the names sans, doll. or my friends sometimes call me beast."

...

"...Pffft ehehe..!"

You laughed and somehow.. he wasn’t angry in the slightest.

"wow, really gonna take a punch at my pride like that, huh?" he asked.

"Sorry! Sorry, sorry..!" you apologized between giggles. "It's really nice to meet you Sans!" 

You introduced yourself to him, although he already learned your name a long ago.

But to hear you say his name like that..

Well....

"real nice ta meet you too, doll."

That flame of hope in his soul was flickering ever stronger...

That perhaps.. a Beauty really could love a Beast.

[sunmoonandeddie]

spilled wine

pairing: king!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,346

summary: You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.

warnings: Some swearing, little bit of violence

a/n:  This was written for @cametobuyplums‘s 2000 Plums Writing Challenge!  Congratulations!  My prompt was “Pour moi, c’est toi la plus belle : to me, you are the prettiest.”  Also, shout out to my betas that basically agreed to read this because we’re in a group chat and I’m a brainless noodle that needs all the help I can get: @wastedavenger @curvybihufflepuff @siren-kitten-his @starwarsgazer Let me know what y’all think!

You were angry.

No, angry was too simple a word.  You were vexed, aggrieved, irate.  And you had every god damn right to be.

Well, kind of.

“What has you all riled up?” Wanda asked as she sidled up next to you.  You were two peas in a pod with your matching servant’s dresses.  They were slightly nicer than your usual uniforms, trading plain brown wool for dark blue muslin.

“Nothing,” you said with a huff as your eyes landed on the King, who was currently twirling Princess Natalia around the ballroom.

But your best friend was as observant as ever, her eyes following your gaze.  “She’s beautiful.”

And she was, with her red silk gown that matched her fiery red hair.  Gold was woven throughout the fabric, making it almost luminescent.  But nothing could be more beautiful than her emerald green eyes, you were sure of it.

“She’d make a fine queen.”

You hummed in response, the bottle of wine sweating in your hands.  “I’m sure she would.”

“You know, political marriages happen all the time, even with commoners such as us,” she said, her eyes searching your face.  Her voice had dropped to a low whisper to ensure that no one could overhear the two of you.  “It doesn’t mean there’s feelings between them.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you look so upset?”

Because I am upset, you wanted to say.  But you couldn’t.  It didn’t matter that Wanda was smart and had figured out about your little affair over a year ago.  Or that she had told you that you would inevitably have to watch him marry someone else.  When she told you that, you’d simply shrugged and said, “He only wants someone to keep his bed warm, and I am in no place to deny my king.”

“Y/N, please tell me what happened,” she said as she reached up to tug on one of the ribbons she had braided into the strands of hair that she’d pulled back into a half-up, half-down sort of look.

“We got into an argument,” you finally admitted as your mind flashed back to what had taken place just a few hours before.

“I have to go,” you said as you straightened out your hair in the mirror.

It wouldn’t do to look as though you’d been rolling around in the hay.

Granted, your virtue wasn’t worth as much as the nobility that walked the halls of the castle, but still.  The principle was there.  And someday you’d have to get married and there was no doubt in your head that your husband would want to know that whatever children came out of your union were his.

“The ball doesn’t begin for another three hours,” James said as he rolled out of bed.  He didn’t even have the decency to get dressed before crossing his chambers to where you were standing, peering into his looking glass.  He looked almost godly in the afternoon sun that was streaming in through the open balcony doors.  “It wouldn’t hurt you to linger, my love.”

There it was again.  ‘My love.’  The title that he had given you that would never truly be yours.  It stung your heart every time he uttered the words, though you knew that you couldn’t say anything about it.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, your hands automatically clasping over where his rested on your sternum.  His lips trailed soft, feather-light kisses against any bare skin he could find.  His hair fell in a curtain around his face.  Your eyes were locked on your own in the mirror.  You wished for nothing more than to be able to stay right there, in his arms, hidden away from the judgmental eyes of the world.  “Stay… for just a little longer…,” he purred.

“My king,” you said after clearing your throat.  You knew how much he hated it when you used his title, and for the most part, you agreed to use his actual name when the two of you were alone.   But right now, you needed to get your point across.  You wriggled out of his grasp, turning away from him to pull on your shoes.  “This needs to come to an end.”

The air in the room changed as he froze behind you.  “What?”

You swallowed, knowing that defying your king could get you thrown into the dungeons or sent to the gallows.  You could only hope that you had gained enough respect in your time together for him to allow you to keep living your life as you knew it.  “This…  This needs to end.”

“I heard what you said.  I suppose I’m just wondering what’s gotten into you,” James said, letting out a chuckle as he tried to grab your hand.  He clearly thought you were joking, playing a little trick on him before the big night.

But you snatched your hand away before he could grab it.  “My king,” you said sternly, your voice void of any warmth.  “Tonight you are choosing a queen.  You are throwing an entire ball for it.”

“I don’t see how that means this has to end,” he said, his brows furrowing.

“I don’t think your wife would appreciate me warming your bed,” you replied dryly.

James rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall.  There was still a playfulness in his eyes because he didn’t get it.  Because he was a man and men get what the want, especially if they have a crown on their head.  “My wife—whoever she may end up being—will have her own chambers, as is normal.”

“And what then?” You snapped, your frustration reaching its boiling point.  “I will not—no, cannot—be your little plaything—your whore—for the rest of my life.  One of these days, I will be married to a man who wants to be sure I’m not bearing another man’s heirs.”  You could get in so much trouble for this.  You could be beheaded, for God’s sake.  But you didn’t care.  You’d spent the past two years warming the king’s bed and you truly only had yourself to blame for the current situation.  You’d lost your heart to him.  You should’ve ended it the second you realized you had feelings for the man, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it until now.

“You’re getting married?”

And maybe it was because you were so pissed off, but you could’ve sworn he was laughing at you.  “Yes, I am,” you said, your hands fisting at your sides.  “To the blacksmith in the village.”  You swallowed, willing yourself to stay strong, to not cry.  “And he may not be rich and he may not have a title, but at least I won’t be a toy to throw away when he’s done with me.”

James scowled, his hands having dropped to his sides as he stood up straight.  “I am your king.  And regardless of whether or not you’re getting married to some commoner, I want you.”

“If you want me, then you have to earn me!” You snarled as you whirled on him.  “I might just be a servant, but I am not yours!”

He was left completely silent as you stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wanda cooed as she gently rested a hand on your arm.  Because it didn’t matter that she could be saying, ‘I told you so.’ What mattered was that you needed your best friend more than anything.

Because underneath all your anger was a deep sadness, a despair that only came from a broken heart.

“It’s alright,” you said, though it was clear that you were more trying to convince yourself.  “I’ll forget all about him once Adam and I are married.”

The redhead’s nose scrunched as she was reminded of your now fiancé.  “I don’t particularly care for that man.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one marrying him,” you teased as you moved to refill some of the Lord’s cups.  Plus, you could see the head of the kitchen, Vision, glaring at the two of you.

It didn’t matter that he was set to marry Wanda, he wouldn’t risk getting in trouble for two of the servants under his watch talking the night away instead of working.

The music continued to play as you moved through a few of the tables that lined the edges of the room, refilling goblets whenever you saw they were half empty or lower.  There were a few sly comments here and there, but nothing too out of the ordinary of the sleazy men.

You were pouring more wine for Lord Rumlow when your eyes drifted up to the dance floor, only to find James’s eyes already on you as he danced with the princess.  His startling blue eyes met yours, freezing you in place.

But you were pulled out of it by the sound of a someone shouting.  You gasped as you looked down, realizing that you’d overflowed Rumlow’s goblet and that it was dripping all over him.

“You stupid girl!” He snarled.  His hand swept across the table so that the goblet flew towards you, wine covering your dress.

There was no way that was coming out.

“I-I’m so sorry!” You said, stammering as you tried to mop up the wine with your dress.  People were starting to take notice of the commotion, Wanda included.  You could see her from the corner of your eye across the room.  She looked more like a raging bull than a girl, pushing up her sleeves as though she was going to storm him herself.  Vision appeared behind her, though, holding her back before she could do anything rash.  “Please, f-forgive me, Lord Rumlow.”

A yelp tore from your lips as the Lord gripped your upper arms, his nails digging into your skin through your dress.  He shook you harshly as spit flew from his mouth.  His face was twisted into something so horrific, you were sure that he’d been possessed by a demon.  No holy creature could be so ugly.  “I’ll have you hanged for you insolence, you—"

“LET HER GO!”  The king’s voice boomed across the room, and everyone fell deathly silent.

You whimpered as Rumlow’s grip tightened as the king stalked towards him, murder in his eyes.  You knew there would be bruises in the shape of his hands in just a few hours.  “Your Majesty, this worthless—“

“Have you lost your hearing, Rumlow?” James asked as he came to a stop in front of the two of you.

The man blinked in confusion.  “What on Earth are you talking about?  Of course not.  This kitchen mouse—"

“Then why have you not put her down as I’ve ordered you to?”

The other man’s jaw clenched as he stared down the King for a long moment, before tossing you to the floor.  “She spilled wine all—”

“She apologized, and spilled wine no reason for you to turn into a rabid animal,” James interrupted, his eyes still narrowed.  He was making it clear that Rumlow wasn’t getting anywhere with his excuses.  He hadn’t looked at you yet, and you didn’t dare move from where you’d landed on the marble floor.  “Maybe we should have you for prey on our next hunt.”  He sneered at the lower-born man.  “Get out of my sight before I send my dogs out after you.”  When the man was out of earshot, the King turned his head to speak to his right hand, Lord Rogers.  You’d heard all about him while lying in James’s bed after a night of love-making.  He was the King’s best friend as well as his most trusted adviser.  “Ensure that he leaves, Steve.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Your cheeks flamed as you stared down at the floor, your palms pressed flat against the cold marble.  You couldn’t look your now former lover in the eyes.  Not after what had just occurred.  You were a servant.  You weren’t meant to be seen, and now every person in attendance was staring directly at you.

But James surprised you, getting on his knees so that he was on your level.  “Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, gently tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Your…  Your Majesty, wh-what are you doing?” You stammered, eyes darting around the room to see everyone watching him.  “You shouldn’t be—”

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked once again, making sure to enunciate each word.

You stared at him with wide eyes, swallowing.  “Y-Yes.  I’m so-sorry about the wine, I—"

James’s hands rested on your elbows so that your hands had to rest on his chest.  He didn’t care that the two of you were still on the floor.  “I don’t care about wine.  Or Rumlow, for that matter.  What I care about is whether or not you’re okay.”  He stared at you for another long moment before pulling you to your feet.  “Dance with me.”

“Wha…  What?”  You blinked at him slowly, unsure that you heard him.

“Dance with me,” he repeated, though he was already pulling you to the dance floor.

“B-But there’s people staring, and my dress, and I’m just—”

“You’re just what?” He countered, frowning as he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.  “Let them stare.  I don’t care about a dress.  And you…”  He smiled faintly as he took in your features.  “You are worth more than all of them put together.”  He held out his hand to you.  “Now, will you dance with me?”

After just another moment’s hesitation, you placed your hand in his.  He nodded towards the band and a slow waltz floated through the air.

“How is Princess Natalia?” You asked as he held you close.  You were avoiding his eyes.

“She’s fine, enjoying her engagement to Prince Clinton,” he said, though when you looked up at him, there was no cocky smirk that said he was poking fun of your jealousy.  No, he was being completely serious in wanting you to know that he wasn’t interested in her.

But even so, your eyes drifted over to the many eligible noble women that had come to try their hand at winning the King’s heart.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, his voice barely audible.

“One of them is going to be your wife.  They’re all rather pretty,” you hummed, unable to stop yourself from staring at the girls.  They stood there in their fine silk gowns with diamonds dripping from their ears and their necks.  Every single one of them was glaring at you, reminding you that you weren’t one of them.  That you didn’t deserve to be dancing with the King.  That he would never choose you as his bride.

“Pour moi, c’est toi la plus belle,” he said as he gently turned your head to look back at him.

You bit your lip as you followed his lead, surprised at how easy it was to dance with him.  The most dancing you’d ever done was in the village square during festivals, and those boys were never any good at it.  They spent most of the time stepping on your toes.  “What does that mean?”

“To me, you are the prettiest.”  Before you could reply, he twirled you under his arm and brought you back in.  There was a thoughtful look in the depths of his blue eyes.  “I’ve done a lot of thinking in the… five hours or so since you left my chambers,” he said, his voice dropping so that no one could hear.  He knew how damaging it could be for you if someone heard that you’d been alone with him.

“Oh?” You prompted, not quite sure where the conversation was headed.

He nodded, humming as he looked down at you.  “Did you know that my father was a lowborn Lord before he married my mother?”  His brows were furrowed as he recounted the story.  “He was the fifth son of my grandfather, who was the fourth son of my great grandfather.  My great grandfather, James II, was a rebel that was pardoned by his king due to his lineage.  But he was barely left with enough land and money to keep his title as a Lord.”

You were growing less and less aware of everyone’s stares on you as you simply focused on the man holding you.  The man that you considered to be the love of your life.

“But my mother didn’t care about any of that.  She was the only child born to my grandparents, the future Queen.”  He paused, his eyes flickering over to the Queen Mother.  When her husband had passed, she’d decided to step down and let her son take the throne, despite the fact that she could rule without him.  She was adored by her people, loved and respected, just as her husband had been.  “Anytime she told the story to me when I was little, she always said, ‘I loved him, which meant his title didn’t matter.  He was born my equal.  I simply raised him to my level in the eyes of the world.’”

Your throat felt dry as you stared at him, your heart beating so loudly that you were sure he could hear it.  “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have never bowed to anyone in my entire life,” he said, drawing out the words as the two of you came to a stop in the middle of the ballroom.  “Not even my parents.  But I will bow to you as the sun bows to the moon every night, allowing it to shine for the world.”  As if to show that he was serious, he bowed deeply at the waist, shocked gasps ringing through the air.  His lips pressed to your hand before he came back up.

“James…  What does this mean?” You asked as he straightened up once again.  You thought you knew where this was heading but you didn’t want to get your hopes up just in case.

“Let me raise you in the eyes of the world.  Let me show them that you’re my equal in every way,” he said as he slowly sunk to one knee.  His eyes were swimming with tears as he looked up at you.  “Marry me.  You’re already the love of my life, my light in the darkness.  Be my wife and my queen.”

You couldn’t form words.  Tears streamed down your face as you rapidly nodded.  “Yes,” you finally gasped out, letting out a bit of a laugh.  “Yes, I will marry you.”

James got to his feet, pulling you into his warm embrace.  His lips met yours as the room erupted in applause.  When he finally set you down, he opened up his arms to present you to the room proudly.  Wine-stained dress and all.  Your cheeks flamed as you curtsied towards them, before remembering that you would never have to curtsy to anyone ever again.

“Come.  There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he whispered, his breath hot against his ear as he led you towards where the Queen Mother, Winifred, sat on one of the thrones.  “Mother,” he said, eyes shining.  “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”

You knew the Queen Mother, of course.  You were the one who brought her tea every morning and every night.

She got to her feet, waving you off when you started to cursty.  “None of that nonsense,” she said, pulling you into a hug.  “Truth be told, I was wondering when my son would tell me about the girl he was so taken with,” she said, low enough that her son couldn’t hear.

Your cheeks flamed as she pulled away, but a fond smile tugged at your lips as your fiancé caught your gaze yet again.

James made a big show of bowing to you yet again.  “My Queen, will you give me the honor of a dance?”

Your heart fluttered as you placed your hand in his.  “I will.”

[mysterious-prophetess]

Review: Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves

It’s finally out in my region so I was finally able to get my hands on it to watch without risking my computer.

Not that I would resort to such....less-than-legal means... <.<

Anyway, I’m glad I did buy it officially. It was every bit as cute as I thought it would be after I saw the new round of trailers and comments by others on tumblr. 

I’ll give my spoiler free thoughts now and go into more details under a read more.

So first, I have to compliment the animation. It is so beautiful. The characters all looked great and none of them looked uncanny at all. My favorite character design of the humans was Snow sans shoes, but Merlin in his normal form is a close second. It’s their eyes. 

My favorite non-human character design was the magic mirror. 

The magic effects were also nicely done.

The plot’s pacing was decent. There were times where it almost felt like they had built in commercial breaks for an eventual network airing from how some parts would cut to black and start a new scene. It wasn’t often and it didn’t really detract from the film. 

The characters were all consistent and Snow White/Red Shoes was down right relatable for me. Merlin and the other six Princes were fun and played off one another, though the trio of Pino Noki Kio almost felt like they didn’t need to be three characters since they never acted independent of one another. Whereas Jack, Hans, Arthur, and Merlin all had their own distinct personalities.

Even the Evil Queen had some good moments. 

Prince Average felt like an after thought.

The moral of the story, while done before and nearly to death, was given a fresh spin in this film. 

Over all this film is charming and the marketing team that screwed them over with the fat-shaming like ad campaign should never be hired by these guys ever again. There is no fat shaming in this film directed at Snow White/Red Shoes. 

The lesson is instead a good one. 

I heartily recommend people watch this movie. There are some semi-Shrek like elements on occasion (like out of place pop culture references) but overall the film has its own identity. 

Another nitpick aside from the weird commercial breaks that kept seeming to happen and that’s the over use of the movie’s main pop song. I liked it the first time but after a few other reuses it started to get a little stale. 

Otherwise I loved the music of the film. 

Snow White’s journey was one that I loved. She had one mission and one mission only: find her father. In fact her desire to be herself contradicted the shoes magic. She was perfectly happy as her normal self and not the magic enhanced version the shoes transformed her into. That’s a powerful message to send to girls who aren’t skinny or traditionally pretty. Though, Snow White is down right adorable as her true self.

I also liked that the perfectly pretty form wasn’t something Snow White necessarily liked but was willing to use to her advantage to help find her father. I also liked that it had drawbacks as Snow White in her normal state was actually a physically strong woman but as a dainty pretty girl all that strength she had and liked having was gone. Furthermore, the movie showed that Snow White was decently athletic as her real self, which was a refreshing take for a heavier character. Large doesn’t equal flabby, weak, or out-of-shape. 

Snow White’s struggles with taking off the magical shoes were reflective of the times where she got insecure about herself. Despite loving who she was, she did sometimes accept the pretty dainty form because of how much nicer people were. 

The Magic Mirror was surprised she could even take them off because it meant there was something she wanted more than being pretty. The first time, at Risky Rock in the Fearsome Seven’s house, it was her desire to be herself. In the alleyway, it was a desire to escape the goons. In the river it was her desire to save Merlin. Yet, whenever she wanted to take them off other times, things had happened to make her hesitate on giving up the conventionally pretty form that had made it so others would help her.

As someone who is not conventionally pretty and definitely not skinny, I really empathized with Snow White about this. 

On no occasion was Snow’s true self ever treated like a joke. There was the scene after she’d taken the shoes off where guards were harassing her where it almost looked like Merlin and Arthur would ignore her peril because she wasn’t her Red Shoes form, but Merlin came back and helped her.  He was even kind of nice to her. 

Never even when Merlin finds out about the shoes versus her real form does he call her ugly or make comments about her weight despite being still kind of fighting his own ego while learning the lesson at this point. 

Speaking of Merlin (and the others of the F7). 

Merlin being the main male protagonist does get the most screen time. Arthur get the second most. Then Hans and Jack, and then the Pinocchio Trio. 

At first their dynamics were all clashing and Arthur seemed like a bully and Merlin seemed like a very shallow impulsive jerk. Let’s be clear, all the guys are shallow. Even the trio who are more obsessed with their inventions half the movie. It’s what got them cursed by the fairy princess in the first place. Considering it was a fairy they pissed off, being turned into green dwarves when anyone (who isn’t a magical creature) looks at them was actually getting off mild. 

I was surprised that each Prince actually has to break their curses one at-a-time. It’s not a “break the curse for one and you save all” which was a new take on a collectively applied curse. Which was why they were every-dwarf-for-them-selves when it came to trying to woo “Red Shoes” and get a kiss from her. 

Merlin’s character journey was one that is usually reserved for the curse breaker in fairy tale movies where a curse indeed is in play. In that he was the one who had to learn to look past appearances. I love that Snow White calls him out on that at one point in the movie too. 

Merlin learning to let go of his obsession with looks (his own included) was what allowed him to see Snow White as the most beautiful woman in the world (in his eyes) which was what let her second kiss at the end break his curse. Because he saw her inner beauty which mattered more than any physical appearance she had.

The characters grew and them ending up together at the end felt natural and not forced because the time they spent together always felt like they had chemistry which is hard to pull off.

Moving on to other things: Regina, Magic Mirror, and Average. 

Honestly? Average felt like a real waste of time. It was through his lines we got the most Shrek-like throw-away references, it was he who had the least impact on the plot, and he who could have been written out of the flick almost all together. Yeah, Merlin recognizing his tree-i-fied form did hint at what Regina had done to others (and it was after he and his two not-the-Stabbington-brothers-goons became evil ents that I figured out King White was that wood bunny because it was large and cute and that was the White Family’s designs overall). 

Average was a throw away character. In many ways he wasn’t even mediocre let alone average. 

The worst thing about him is he can be easily written out of the movie. 

As the stepmother of Snow White, Regina is queen of the kingdom and all the scenes where soldiers go after Snow White and the F7 could have been her sending people to do her dirty work to spare her magic usage. 

Average’s two goombas? Hired thugs who’d never seen Snow White before. Take him out, shuffle a few things around, make a captain character be his replacement in the attack on Risky Rock scene, and nothing of value would be lost in his removal. Average is the film’s only major mistake. He was a dead end that could have been easily written around and the screen time would have been better spent on Snow White and the F7 or maybe fleshing out Regina a little more.

Magic Mirror and Regina both played well off one another. Patrick Warburton as any character will always be an excellent casting choice. 

Regina’s schemes made sense from a shallow perspective. 

I saw someone compare her to Mother Goethel from Tangeled  in a youtube comment on one of the trailers and kinda? 

They had the same sort of vanity-wanting to keep their youth and maintain their beauty-and their penchant for cloaks was the same but, Regina to me....was more like Mother Goethel and Triss Marigold from Witcher 3′s fusion. Her younger form reminded me WAY more of Triss than Goethel as did her gown. Plus, it’s canonic in the Witcher-verse that sorceresses use magic to keep young. Also, she’s not the first evil queen of a Snow White retelling to even be obsessed with youth to the point she goes to extreme lengths to maintain it. See Snow White and the Huntsman’s queen. 

Regina stands out as her own character despite sharing a name and role with Regina of Once Upon a Time. She’s ruthless, and able to manipulate others with either her words or illusionary magic (though it costs her like the witches from Stardust). She’s also absolutely cold. She just kind of falls flat compared to the Magic Mirror.

No offense to the voice actress or the writers, but up against Patrick Warburton’s Magic Mirror/tree character, Regina is a little less memorable to me. He has more sass and more pure threat to him than Regina does. Sure, she has magic that can turn people into strange tree monsters, but it’s the mirror that gives the F7 the most trouble throughout the movie, and they fought off something that looked to be a whole platoon of guards/soldiers armed with heavy artillery (canons). Granted, it was a close call that relied on their wits and other skills, but they still had less trouble with that fight than they did against Magic Mirror. 

Some More Things:

The humor was nearly overplayed but they managed to tow the line between going too far and just right.  Mostly this was seen with the F7 and their attempts to get Snow White to kiss them and break their spells, especially Arthur. 

They did give him more of a character beyond loud bully, which was that he had a sensitive side and a lot of pride (which was easily bruised). In fact, only he and Merlin felt like they had characterizations compared to the other five. Hans was obsessed with cooking and Jack with jewels and the trio with tech but that’s all they got beyond having their friends’ backs whenever it really mattered and being awesome badasses. Since these other five were mostly side characters, this is more of a nitpick than an actual problem since the film was setting up Arthur vs Merlin for Snow White’s affections. 

The fact that Snow White brushes all the attempts of flirting off so easily was very amusing to me and a nice way of showing how she was focused on finding her missing father throughout the whole film (despite the fact that she had already found him). Hilariously, in hindsight, she really had seen him in the woods. If she’d been herself, who knows if he’d have even attacked her.

Finally, I’ll end on what had seemed like an inconsistency but now I realize is a loophole because the fae have those in everything. The guys have to be alone or have the person they’re with close their eyes to be their true selves, except Merlin is still his true form even though he’s not alone with the Magic Mirror or the wood rabbit/King, or the three wood bears/children. 

Turns out, once I thought about it, the fairy’s curse was if “people looked at them” which meant, the ones doing the looking had to be people and the wood creatures-despite formerly being people-were considered to be people no longer. The Mirror was probably never a person, which mean he’d never counted as a part of “people” so he could look all he wanted (which was his thing as a mirror). It’s an interesting loophole. 

Long story short, I really enjoyed this film. It was very cute and it was done so dirty by its marketing three years ago. 

Good film. Good messages. Go watch it! It’s not like we’ve anything ELSE to do at the moment (and it’s not like there are any other worthwhile films coming out right now). Support this film, and this studio.

[teechew]

VESPINNA

- cw: mention or rape and underage rape (only the mention, not the description of the act itself) -

Name: Virginia Quispero Alias: Vespinna  Age: around 40 Quirk: gorgon – hair is made of think black snakes. Can transforms into a giant gorgon creature when all head (snakes + hers) think the exact same thing Passives: slow regeneration, super strength, super stamina, hyper vigilance (because around 100 pairs of eyes) Snake head poison: causes hallucination, paralysis and intestinal disorders Human head poison: deadly muscle stimulant, kills in 7 seconds Gorgon form: no legs, snake tail, giant size, feathers among the scales, all bites are mortals, barely human-looking

Born in an isolated valley in Peru, her family was part of a cult to Vespinno, a pagan god of destruction. When her quirk appeared, her father was persuaded she was Vespinno’s chosen and tried to raise her in the rank of the cult. The heads were charmed by his words and how he was certain she'd give birth to Vespinno himself! Her mother, realizing the madness of the cult, and her daughter safety was at risk, ran away with the child. She found refuge in the bigger city and went into hiding. She found work and kept the child hidden inside her home at all times. Virginia was really bored, always asking to get out and play with the other children, but the mother kept refusing. After a year of this life, the mother was tired. Money was short, the cult and even the government were trying to get their hands on Virginia. Without exit, the mother gave her up for adoption on the condition that Virginia was adopted out of the country.

Vi was sent to a wannabe celebrity japanese couple when she was 5. They intend on using Vi as a "pity" child, showing how "good and charitable" they were by adopting a 3rd country child with a difficult quirk. The brain was definitely the mother, spending most of her time recording vlogs and cleaning videos for her channel. The father was mostly uninterested, too busy working to feed his wife’s luxury taste. The plan was foiled by Virginia's queen intellect. She realized quickly that once the camera was off, her "mother" wasn't as caring and nice, often sending her to her room and not wanting to have anything to do with "a freak". The couple had another child; Ishimaru, barely a toddler then. He and Virginia were close. He was too young and hadn’t learn the biased view on her quirk. Virginia decided to "enlist" his help to expose her mother.

One day, when the mother was having a livestreamed Q&A session, Virginia came into view. "Mother, I'm hungry, can I get a snack?" The mother, under the camera at this moment, told her "not yet" and sent her to her room, saying that she was busy but remaining sweet and caring. Virginia shook her head, making her snakes wave around and asked again to have a snack. The mother became more and more tense. With each refusal the child insisted, getting on her mother nerves. At one point the woman excused herself to the audience and shut the livestream. As the mother was scolding Virginia, Ishimaru, paid in candy by his sister, came closer to the computer and "pushed the red button" on his mother screen. Virginia had taught him how to use a mouse... And the livestream started. Virginia was still in the middle of a scolding. The mother, already mad, was pointing and now screaming at the gorgon. Virginia, following her plan, was especially good at being a brat that day and was promptly, under the eyes of the watchers, sent "to the basement without diner!" No need to say, child services were called and took Virginia and Ishimaru away from the couple. Virginia never saw her little brother again.

She was send to foster families, but because of this awful experience and her quirk that, you have to admit, is scary, Virginia was never adopted nor stayed long in the families, changing households every now and then. Because of this she was also changing schools often and never made long lasting friends. She was a loner and often though of as a bully due to her tallness, superior strength, bad grades, and attitude. Truth was she had a huge social skill delay and never learned how to make friends. When she reached 16, she was old enough to work a part-time job and the government wasn't ready to pay for her studies, especially seeing her bad grades. She was cut from the foster program and left to fend for herself. She was lucky enough that the current foster family didn't throw her out, but offered her to stay in her current room as long as she participated in the grocery bill.

Virginia tried. She really did. No front work wanted her - "not customer friendly" they said. Back work never lasted long as her colleagues often complained about her and how "scary" she was. She finally landed an ungrateful job but it was something; gutting fish in the early hours of the day. She smelled awful, slept through most of the day, but was able to pay for her room. And life threw her on the ground again. 

At 17, one morning, after work, she was walking home when she was  suddenly abducted. A man approached her and, of course, she was wary; a young girl walking alone, on the docks, in the early hours of morning... A scenario straight out of a cliché horror movie. She kept walking, thinking she was overreacting, her snakes on high alert and hissing. Suddenly the man dropped a wet sheet on her; he must have prepared his plan, the sheet was doused in chloroform. If he were to simply put it on her nose her snakes would have bite him everywhere, but the sheet was neutralizing the snakes, and not only her face but each snake was breathing the chloroform. Virginia fainted.

When she awoke, groggy, feeling dirty, and tied up, she knew; they didn't just watch her. She struggled to get in a better position, realizing the same sheet had been used to wrap her snakes and keep them enclosed. Her hands and feet were tightly tied together, but it was nothing her strength couldn't handle. She quickly broke them, freed her snakes, and inspected herself; bruised, raped, drugged, but alive. She picked herself up and went to the closest door. She could hear voices... and cries. She found kids, boys and girls, dirty and scared, some with bruised on their faces and limbs, most barely clothed, if clothed. All way younger than her, too young for whatever these men have done to them... to her. When she came in, some kids cried louder and Vi heard a booming voice behind her 

"WHAT ARE YOU WHINNING FOR AGAIN YOU FUCKIN BRATS?!"

She turned around and faced a man coming from an other room. Easily in his late 50, ugly, and fat. He looked at her, surprised "hey, you're the new one. How did you get free?" He walked toward her, clenching his fists. "Not important, you're too old for my taste but we still got work for you." The children started crying even more, Vi could hear more men voices approaching, she was in danger, the kids were in danger. Something in Virginia's head snapped. Her snakes started screaming to kill, she wanted to protect the kids, but that'd mean killing the men. Kill them. KILL!

From there, her memory is hazy. She remembered feeling powerful and unstoppable. She remembered the taste of blood in her mouth, the screams of men, and the sounds of children’s feet running away. She also remembered the police sirens, the hero's orders to surrender, but she didn't listen. She wanted to go away. Away from everyone, from everything! But then the dream ended. She got punched. Hard. And she fell.

When she awoke again she was in an isolated cell, with a muzzle on her face. She tried moving but her entire body was held in a straightjacket. She tried moving her snakes and realized each of their heads were inside little locks, rendering them useless. In jail. Her trial came quickly. She was declared a Villain on an account of intentionally killing 10+ adults, and destroying a government-owned building as well as resisting hero arrest. She never heard about the children, about the fact she was kidnapped, drugged, and raped... The sentenced was 8 years in prison. She did the first one in a juvenile prison and then transferred into a high security prison for Class-S villains. Virginia often jokes that these years were like school; she never made friends, kept to herself, and waited for time to pass. She was left alone, mainly because people knew what she was capable of. The muzzle was never removed except for lunch time, were she was under strict surveillance. The rare time she wasn't left alone she knew quickly how to assert her dominance. She was strong and ruthless and at one point was asked what was her villain name. "Vespinna." Slowly the other inmates learned to not mess with her.

8 years later she was finally let out. Her foster family had gone silent, no family, no friends... She was truly alone and without a place to go home to. So she walked. After a full day of walking she reached the other side of the city. She was tired, hungry, and night was coming. Frustrated, she slipped in an alleyway, away from the public eyes, and sat down against a wall. Bringing her knees against her torso, she wrapped her snakes around her and closed her eyes. She was alone...

Later that night she was awoken by a repeated poking on her leg. She unwrapped her snakes, ready to fend of anything that was responsible for the poking, and was faced with a homeless man. He was dirty, with at least 3 layers of clothes. Looking tired, with huge bags under his eyes, he looked to be in his fifties, his hair and beard greying under the dirt and dust. He smelled horrible and Virginia had a hard time not frowning her nose. "Hey kid, you're new here?" Virginia frowned, wary. "So what?" The man shrugged "Just wondering if it's a one night situation or if you gon' be there for longer." Virginia stood up, towering over the man "And what about it?" The man didn't seem impressed. "Listen, honey, I'm the one usually sleepin' here. Just wanna know if I'm in danger or if you're chill." Virginia relaxed a little. "it's... your alley?" The man turned away and walked toward a panel a wood, pushing it to reveal a cardboard box fort of some sort. In it was a dirty old mattress and several garbage bags of junk. "It's not *mine*, but it's where I'm left alone." Virginia watched him dig into one of the bags, pull out an old blanket and throw it to her. "Nights are fresh kiddo, bundle up." Virginia looked at the blanket, several stains of food were scattered on it and it had some holes here and there. "You're... not scared I’ll rob you?" "Rob me of what? I have nothing to my name except my life. And even that ain't much," said the man, sounding tired and crawling in his little hideout. "Plus you're the one with questions so far. I don't think I'm in danger," He chuckled while taking off his shoes. Virginia stepped closer "You... don't have any? I mean, questions? About me?" The man sighted as he got ready to sleep "Girl, I bet you're not here because you chose to. And neither am I. That's all we need to know about each other." On this he turned away and laid down. Virginia returned to her little corner and bundled in the blanket. It was smelly. "But again, so will I... soon," she though while looking at the man one last time before falling asleep.

From then one this alley was her "home". The man's name was Akira, he had lost his own home after a villain and a hero fought a little too roughly and destroyed it. He taught Virginia all she needed while homeless: the soup kitchen days, the shops that were chill about homeless digging in their trash, the shops that weren't... Strangely, Virginia felt more and more comfortable next to Akira. He shared food and fabrics with her without asking questions. He also presented her to the homeless community; the most strange but tight-knit community. Everyone was helping you, all that was asked of you was to help in return for those who couldn't get by as easily as you could. 

It's been 15 years, and she's the happiest she ever was. But not fully happy yet...

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 6

So, here’s the next instalment of this little romcom story...

°6° ~Victoria~

“But, I insist upon apologising to the other people in attendance, again.” Victoria hated apologising, but Martin had been right in telling her off about snubbing people who had done her no harm…this far.

Knowing that it would make Martin laugh, she snatched up a bowl of peanuts and held it in her palms like an offering.

As expected, the man beside her doubled over in hilarity, holding his sides as the wheezing grew painful. The polite but confused looks of his friends and colleagues seemed an endless well of amusement to him.

“Ah, thank you.” Hiddleston took up one of the nuts gingerly and shoved it into his mouth as if it had been a ritualistic offering indeed. “See? The tamest of…beasts.” Martin whispered into her ear, and she was tempted to pat the golden hair on the man soothingly.

Following the other man’s example, Armitage also picked a nut and ate it, keeping his eyes questioningly on her face.

“Look pleased, girl, smile at them.” Martin said in a hushed voice, nudging her in the side gently.

Victoria was almost sure that she was grimacing, her teeth bared awkwardly, but she had never been good at smiling on command and this fraught situation was, unfortunately, no exception to this shortcoming of hers.

“So, tell us, what did you refer to when you called this a “nerd-fest”?” Martin prompted her gently to speak, seemingly understanding that direct exhortations would get him nowhere with her. It was, in general, always best to come at a petrified Victoria sideways, starting a seemingly inconsequential conversation and letting it flow from there.

“There are literally dolls of you.” Victoria scoffed, moving her hands vaguely in front of her body in an imitation of how a child would play with a doll. “Not soft though, hard plastic…” Her hands sunk back, she was making a fool of herself.

“Dolls?” Liza hooted gleefully. “Well, I’ve also seen the theatre productions.” Victoria said, just a moment too late, her voice tinged with resentment again. She hated being caught unawares and being goaded into saying stupid shit.

“No, you tell me more about the dolls.” Liza was having fun, but her expression was devoid of malice or ill-will.

“Liza, I have seen those funny movies with the costumes and the creatures and…” Victoria sighed, she didn’t remember the names and she was already at a disadvantage here. She felt caught and put on the spot amidst these people who, naturally, knew those movies so well, down to the very lines of the characters.

“And did you like them?” The good beast, Tom as he had introduced himself with a smile, was grinning at her warmly again. Yes, she could see what Jenna saw in him, he seemed to radiate warmth and a polite friendliness.

“Oh, yes, very much. It was a bit…sad though.” Victoria shrugged. She was not ready to explain to a bunch of strangers that she didn’t like seeing bad family relations and vicious fights, as her reality had enough of those to last for a lifetime.

Liza looked at her questioningly, but after a moment, she understood. She had seen Vic pick up on the most random things, but strained family relationships and weird homosexual undertones were always amongst the things that moved her most. Also, like most soft-hearted, even though Vic was equally hard-headed, women, Victoria hated untimely deaths.

Maybe, her plan would work after all. All she had to do now was to draw back and hope that Armitage had a tad of charm on his own. He had taken the peanut and he was giving them his best constipated smile.

Waving discreetly at her wife, she withdrew, pulling Jenna along with her, much to the chagrin of the young woman.

“That is one good-looking man.” She sighed under her breath and Liza turned around, scanning the room for the person her wife’s employee might have meant by those words. Martin followed them discreetly, coaxing Benedict along with the promise of more cakes and sandwiches (and a prime vantage point to follow the developments of their plan).

“Where are you all going now? What?” Vic called out, distress in her voice. “I’ll be right back; you stay with Armitage.” Liza grinned suavely, physically shoving Jenna along as she dug her heels into the carpeted floor.

Victoria blinked, looking up at the man in front of her until she could feel herself grow slightly dizzy.

“Oh darn it! That’s it. I’m done trying to be pretty.” She cursed under her breath, opened her tiny clutch bag and fished out a pair of gold-rimmed, round glasses that she put on resolutely. Unfortunately, she could not suppress the gasp.

“Oh Saints.” She sighed under her breath as the slightly blurry surroundings became sharper instantly. She had known that these were dangerous men, but she had believed that her myopy and the artistry of the editors had embellished them considerably; suffice it to say that she was shocked to find that she had been wrong.

~Richard~

They had left her alone with that woman. Not entirely alone of course, Hiddleston was still hovering around, but Martin that treacherous weasel had followed the cakes and the gentler women, leaving him stranded with this surprising creature whose eyes made it quite hard for him to find something relevant to say.

She blinked owlishly up at him until he thought that she’d go cross-eyed. To his surprise – another one – she usually wore glasses and when she put them on, an obscene sound of pleasure escaped her half-open lips.

Again, she called to the Saints, pushing the glasses up before they had even had the chance or the time to slip, which told him that she wore her glasses more consistently than him and probably had done so for a long time.

She had made an inane comment about no longer attempting to be pretty, before putting on her glasses but that made no sense at all to him, as her glasses were beautiful and, in a strange way, so was she.

Obviously, pushing up her glasses was a habit or a tick as she did it twice while looking at him as if he was a painting in a museum rather than a real, living, breathing person. Then again, he stood nearly as still as a statue under her forbidding, critical gaze that roamed over his face with detached curiosity.

“Hmmm, how do you find the 1971 Armitage then?” Hiddleston stood next to her, eating peanuts, and joining her in her intense study of the immobile man facing them. No doubt, he deserved the attribute of “stony” now, Richard thought, dismayed to be the butt of the joke after all. He had known that had been a risk and he had walked right into it.

“1971?” She asked absent-mindedly, throwing a quick questioning look at her interlocutor before returning her gaze to him, and Richard flinched a little bit. Why did that man have to lead with his age when talking to a woman that young?

“A collectible, I’m sure.” Hiddleston purred, his voice laden with affectation which made Victoria chuckle again.

Hmmm, if it made her laugh rather than growl and spit, he would be standing there and be mocked for a little while longer, Richard decided. She looked like she needed a laugh.

“Not quite an antique.” Victoria opined, but Hiddleston was quick to reassure her: “Almost though. It’s been wonderfully preserved.��� Again, that pealing, throaty laughter resounded, and Richard’s own mouth curled into an indulgent smile.

“This deserves to be in a gallery.” Victoria murmured, her voice devout and strangely vulnerable.

“I am right here; I can hear you.” Richard interjected, without much hope to break up their little game.

“AAAH, as you can see, Ma’am, it is unfortunately haunted. It can tell the time…if you hang it opposite a clock that is…” Hiddleston was quick to take Richard’s intervention in his stride, giving himself an apologetic expression that amused Victoria greatly. “Haunted? A piece of art so young?” She expressed her doubt and suspicion.

“Yes, yes…It’s looking for a good home though, a nice attic or a cellar maybe…” Hiddleston was waving his hands around Richard’s face as if to dazzle Victoria by the speed of his movements, an old trick salespeople used to distract from the inferior quality of their wares.

“I have a home, thank you, Hiddleston. I am not a piece of junk to be sold for 50p in a yard-sale.” Richard growled.

Her face grew grave, and he wondered what dark thought had crossed her mind to make her smile die on her lips. Immediately, he regretted having cut short their fun. He really was the grumpy, old sad sack he never wanted to be.

~Victoria~

When Tom spoke of attics and cellars, Victoria was immediately reminded of the stately house her father had raised her in. She could imagine a man like that one living there, she could picture a painting of a man such as that hanging in the great hall over the fireplace or high above the broad staircase winding its way to the two separate wings of the manor.

He had a skin like the Italian marble that had been so ridiculously slippery and that had made her afraid to take a fatal tumble down the very same staircase. Many people had told her that the idea was ludicrous and overly dramatic, but she knew it to be possible. Her mother had died that way.

Yes, there had been a bottle of bourbon and some prescription drugs in the mix as well, but the fact remained that her mother had fallen down the staircase and died on the spot from a broken neck. Father had replaced that patch of marble, but its veining was different, and they all hated that marred, ugly square that stood out like a sore thumb.

Thinking of her childhood home invariably made her sad; but she couldn’t deny that Richard Armitage would have fitted better into the décor than the little girl she had been.

He would look terribly imposing on the steps of the stairs or sitting in the huge armchairs in front of the roaring fire in the library. He would not be swallowed by every piece of furniture, he would not look out of place in the huge copper bathtub, and he would certainly not blend into the dark corners of the much too spacious rooms when the main lights were turned down. Maybe, she would have to get a painting of him and try to sneak it in to see if her father would even notice.

“Would that he were a painting.” She murmured, a desperate note sneaking into her voice that Tom picked up on immediately. There was pain in this woman, and he could see the gooseflesh on her arms as she tried to keep still. Evidently, she was on the verge of breaking into another run, unable to cope with something that distressed her, a thing that escaped his notice though…which frustrated him, as he really wanted to help her.

“So, you prefer the theatre to the cinema?” He asked, hoping it would be the right path to choose.

Victoria took a deep breath; this was what Liza and Angie had aimed for, for her to meet new people and talk about herself again. “I don’t know, I’ve only been to the movie theatre a few times before. It was a long time ago though.”

She could remember the smell of popcorn and of anticipation as the room grew dark and the screen lit up like a window to another world. Even then, she had been consumed with an absurd fear to be among so many other people; terrified of what they might think of her if she was to gasp or cry at the wrong moment, so she stayed immobile.

The man who would marry and divorce her within 10 years had thought that she had hated the experience and hence had not asked her to go to the cinema often afterwards. Maybe, if he had believed that she liked it, he would have taken her instead of other girls and this shared hobby would have strengthened their bond rather than frazzle it.

Victoria coughed, she had said too much already, and her heart was pounding. She was not ready for this.

“I’m sorry. I have to go home. I’m not feeling well.” She uttered hastily, turning to leave.

She was a terrible person; she had tried to make things right and all she had managed were fits and starts, broken off conversations that would leave a stale taste on the silver tongues of these men.

“I…can’t.” She stammered to no-one in particular as she waved at her friends and vanished before they could make their way back through the room to keep her from leaving like an absurd perversion of Cinderella.

She wanted to say how sorry she was, she wanted to thank them for their kindness, but she just couldn’t…so, she ran, her feet drumming against the pavement and her dress soaking up the moisture of the ground as she made for the next corner to catch a cab.

By the time she arrived home, her chest was heaving frantically, and she was crying with panic and distress.

When she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, Victoria had to admit to herself that she was irrevocably broken. She had had the great honour to meet people so fascinating and charming that many a woman would have torn out her own throat to be in her shoes and yet, she had not been able to shake the ghosts haunting her every breath, dogging her every step, spoiling her every pleasure.

Whatever Angie and Liza had thought they could achieve here, it would not happen, it never could.

~Richard~

That woman was utterly confusing. There were threads of a vibrant, quick-witted, funny person shining through behind a veil of confused anger, but somehow, they couldn’t get a hold of her.

In his mind, he could not reconcile the words he had read on the pages with the wide-eyed distress on her face; there was such a difference between the person he had imagined her to be and the person she had turned out to be in reality.

Now, it was true that his own taciturn demeanour had not been exactly conducive to drawing out the parts of her she was obviously hiding from the world, shielding them like deep wounds or fragile saplings.

Hiddleston however… that man was charming and even he had not managed to make her let down her guard for more than a few minutes at a time.

“What the fuck have you done to her?” Elizabeth stormed over, dismay writ plain on her face.

No, she had been angry before, she has bloody screamed at YOU, Richard thought, you cannot blame us for her leaving…but he still felt responsible and a tiny bit guilty. If he had been a little more open, she might have felt less insecure.

She has made it very clear that she’s afraid of you, he reminded himself, and you have done nothing to assuage her fears. No, you’ve given her your crooked, sharp-edged smiles that must indeed have looked like a predator baring its teeth at her more than the shy warmth he wanted them to convey.

“We were nice, all was well until Armitage gave her one of those cold, snide smiles.” Hiddleston shrugged and Richard felt weirdly hurt and betrayed even though he could hear that it had been a joke. Cold, a thing he had been called much too often and that made him despair within his own heart. He had not chosen his face and even after 50 years of life, he could not outrun its angular repulsiveness.

She had not known him well enough to be prejudiced, maybe, she would have been able to find warmth where others saw ice, but he had not managed to make her see. Also, Hiddleston had not been a great help.

“Awww, Richard, come on!” Martin sighed, disappointed, as if he was pursuing some ulterior motive Richard ignored.

[dracwife]

gods & monsters

ship: gods & monsters → Erik/Adonis

word count: 1472

summary: Adonis find himself entranced by Erik's touch after a particularly exhausting performance.

tw for suggestive content! not explicit but definitely suggestive.

“Ah, brava, brava! You were wonderful tonight!” a crowd of people and voices surrounded him in praise and shoved congratulations at him in the form of material gifts. Here or there he would accept the flowers tossed at him, or collect the bottles of wine and champagne forced into his arms by the wealthier fans and attendees.

It was a difficult task, getting to his dressing room. After finally getting the door shut, and quickly locking it, he sighed. The flowers were set aside and the alcohol stacked yet again in a quickly-filling corner. He sat at his vanity, and began wiping away the makeup and face paint plastered onto him before this night's performance.

“Adonis! Adonis!” he could hear his name called beyond the doors.

“Adonis, my darling Adonis,” a familiar haunting voice joined the chorus of noise, though it stood out fiercely against the grain.

The young acteur's head perked up at the sound, and it wasn't long before the ever-familiar figure of his lover was behind him, he could see in the mirror.

“You were stunning tonight, really,” a bouquet of roses was promptly presented to him, and was quickly accepted.

“You are too kind to me,” the flowers were set aside from the rest, in a vase atop his vanity. It was reserved exclusively for meaningful gifts.

“Not nearly enough.”

There was another bout of shouting, pleading outside for the singer to make an appearance, and the two lovers glanced at the door before meeting each other's gazes again.

“I do love performing, but I cannot stand the aftermath.”

“A sacrifice you must make.”

“A poor one, at that. Take me away from here, please, I need peace and quiet, I'm dreadfully tired.”

“Of course, my Darling Angel,” Erik extended a hand, which Adonis took before the two set off, the taller of the two leading them both through a passage hidden behind one of the two wardrobes. Through his time at the theater, and his time with Erik, Adonis had learned many of the hidden passageways that littered the Opera House, this particular one leading to the river below wherein which Erik lived.

Before long, they were comfortably relaxing in the dungeon Erik called home.

Adonis took his usual seat on the bed, stretching out before laying back, sinking into the soft feathers of the duvet.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he took a deep breath, exhaling the last of his anxieties; the sound seemed to echo off the walls of the quiet, come to be calming, room.

After a small bout of silence, Adonis sat up rather lazily, shifting his weight, his breathing rather short. He stood, and began to tug his shirt over his head, Erik glancing over once, twice, from where he stood organizing various scattered pieces of sheet music, letting his eyes linger on his partner's abdomen, mind wandering a million places before he shook the sins away, slowly making his way towards the singer.

“Do you mind --” he turned, shirt now nearly pulled over his head.

“Of course not,” the Phantom began unlacing the corset that bound Adonis’ chest so tightly, the sharp snaps of the plastic and wire bones against the cool feeling of Erik's gloved hands sent shivers down his spine, the feeling of leather and lace constricting him more than the corset ever could, Adonis nearly choking on the sensation, his mind running wild, playful, seductive, yet controlled - perhaps for more than his own good, deriving from a depraved fantasy not even his darling ghost knew of - the mere thoughts he conjured excited the young performer nonetheless.

Erik must have picked up on Adonis’ swift change of mood, for moments after tearing away his boyfriend's binder, his hands traced along the soft, warming skin of Adonis’ back, and down his spine with deft fingers rounding along his waist, resting then against his stomach and pulling him close to in an intimate embrace known too well to them both.

Adonis let out a shaky breath, Erik's head dipping towards his neck as he began to place kisses along the soft skin there.

Adonis sighed, his hand reaching back to tangle itself into Erik's hair, whose name he murmured as he tilted his head away, allowing much easier access to his neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

Erik did not hesitate, trailing his affections downward, biting down lightly at certain points, others not as gentle, leaving faint marks in their wake. He felt his young lover pull at his hair, gently at first, then more forcefully as he leaned back into the embrace.

Erik's hands travelled upwards, resting now against Adonis’ abdomen, who writhed at the feeling of the thick, cold leather gloves against his skin, the fabric of his shirt pulled upwards again, the cold night's air brushing his body and in return he gasped, moaning softly.

Erik's breath hitched, for he too found pleasure in the sensation of his beloved so far gone at the work of his own hands, which now travelled further upwards, his hands replacing his mouth at Adonis’ neck - the thoughts from earlier flooded back to him at once. He placed a kiss along Adonis’ jaw, then another, once more - oh, the things he could do to his lover; he wished to hear him moan, beg and plead and pant his name and only his name, he thought of earlier and the crowds so eager to get their hands on his Darling Angel. His angel - Erik tightened his grip - and no one else's. He could ruin the man before him, and there would be no one to stop him. How desperately he craved the intimacy, the attention, the power, his breath sped and he let out a low growl affirming that Adonis was his.

It was then that Adonis let out a hoarse groan, a whimper, and then he let his hand fall from Erik's hair, ripping the musician from his shameful, wicked thoughts and throwing him into the depths of repentance. He felt sick, realizing the things he had suggested to himself, he was but a lowly creature gnawing at the scraps of affection tossed his way in pity, surely, by the ever talented artist he held in his arms in that moment. He did not deserve love. He was a disgusting, ugly, horrible thing, and he should have been left to rot in the dungeon he lived in, away from the world and all its peoples. A monster, incapable of love or compassion. He tore his hands from Adonis’ neck, who spun around panting, desperate for any sort of contact.

Erik's breath had not slowed, and he met the eyes of Adonis; who had sent him this angel? He did not deserve it, he did not deserve someone so pure and beautiful when he himself had clawed his way from the depths of hell and lived in darkness the entirety of his life. Before he found comfort in music, now he found it in the arms of his lover, and only now did he question why this was so, how it was possible. Surely it was a cruel, sick joke.

Adonis recognized the familiar bout of sorrow Erik's face wore and took a deep breath, calming himself before he then took Erik's face into his hands, brushing away first the few strands of stray hair that draped themselves across his forehead, then he moved to the mask hiding Erik's face.

“What troubles you?” his fingers brushed the edge of the hard porcelain, but Erik quickly raised a hand of his own, holding the mask to his face.

Adonis placed his hand over Erik's before moving them both gently away, then reached back to remove the mask. How he hated the damned thing, but he also understood Erik's emotional attachment to it.

Once it too was gone, he leaned forward, into a slow, soft kiss that Erik turned from at first, then once realizing his Angel had long ago admitted his love, and not for a second shunned from his deformity - accompanied by a collection now of years old scars, some self-inflicted, others inflicted upon him as a child - he turned towards Adonis and kissed him eagerly in return.

“I am very tired,” Adonis mumbled, “Will you lay with me?”

“Of course,” Erik took the mask from Adonis’ hands and looked down at it for a moment before turning towards the bed and sitting on the edge.

The younger of the two returned to his spot from earlier, resting comfortably in the familiar mass of pillows and covers. Erik stretched out next to him, the mask placed gently on the pillows beside them, and hugged his lover close.

“I love you,” Erik heard the soft voice, muffled from Adonis’ nuzzling into him.

His heart fluttered, and he pulled his Angel closer. How blessed he truly was.