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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Precious Inexperience II

A/N: Welp. You guys voted and here I am...trying to deliver my second attempt at a dark fic. Please let me know what you think. I never expected this little fic to take off like it did. I love you all. If you want a refresher--here’s the first part!

Pairing: King!Robb Stark x F!Reader

Rating: M for DARK THEMES including dub-con, death, death of children, Robb being a dick, a bit of smut, and canon-typical sexism

Warnings: Again, dub-con/dubious consent, talk of pregnancy and childbirth, men being terrible-PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: The King in the North was now King of the Seven Kingdoms. Peace reigned. Kings need heirs. But queens need love.

King’s Landing had over a half a million people calling it home and she had never felt more alone. Her ladies in waiting were kind but aloof, more preoccupied with making sure the child she was carrying was healthy than if she was happy. Court was filled with lords and ladies and foreign dignitaries who were all but throwing themselves at Robb’s feet in hopes to gain his favor—she was barely more than another tapestry on the cold stone walls of the Red Keep.

A pretty thing to be looked at and then ignored.

Whenever someone had deemed it a worthy venture to speak to her, Robb quickly put an end to it.

“You are here to speak to me, my lord, are you not? Do not let your eyes linger on my queen.”

But she was lonely. The only time she felt the smallest bit seen was when Robb came into her chambers. His hands still left her tender and hurting, even after the maesters confirmed she was with child a month after their wedding night. But he was all…he was all she had.

Writing to her mother, asking if she could come to the city to spend a season at her side, was quickly rebuffed as well. My darling girl, you are the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will not distract you from your duties. Your husband and child will come first, always.

That did nothing to bring her comfort.

And she learned quickly that Robb did not like her tears.

“Have I not given you enough? A crown? Jewels? Dresses from Essos? What more do you want?” His face was bright red with anger so she quickly wiped at her cheeks and nodded, murmuring an apology. He let out a strained sigh and she watched him walk toward her through watery eyes. His warm hands grasped her face and rough thumbs brushed away her tears. “You are my queen. You are bringing my heir into the world. You have made me happy, Y/N.” His hand settled over her stomach, now showing the advanced stage of her pregnancy. “That should be all that matters. You are emotional because you are with child. This will pass.”

It will pass.

It didn’t.

She winced as she felt her child move and kick as she laid atop her featherbed, listening to the city start to wake before the sun. Thankfully, the morning sickness had subsided only a few months into her pregnancy but the need to rise early had not left her.

Her door opened and she felt herself smiling as Robb entered. She knew he would stay, at least for a few moments. She would have someone who wanted her all to herself, even if just for a little bit.

Without a word, she held out her hands to him and welcomed him into her bed.

His hands were still rough as they tore at her thin nightdress. They were rough as they spread her legs. They were rough as grasped at her shoulders as he rutted against her.

“This is the first of many. You’re so beautiful like this.”

“I want…” The words were strangled in her throat when she felt that all-too familiar coil start to tighten and fray. He always made it feel good. “I want to be beautiful for you. Always.”

A visiting Pentoshi magistrate was the reason almost all of the court had gathered in the Great Hall. He had a band of exuberant contortionists and firebreathers to entertain the lords and ladies of Westerosi court while he spoke with Robb. His entourage were quick favorites of the upper echelons of society in King’s Landing and it was all so… strange. All this pomp and circumstance around a man who was essentially begging for help against the Dragon Queen who seemed hellbent on rebuilding the Valyrian Empire, including Pentos.

Robb would not help. She knew this. The Court knew this. But they wanted a bit of entertainment. This Pentoshi politician was not the first to come to beg for the Wolf King’s help and would not be the last.

But it did give her a little more to distract herself with, as the days dragged on.

She watched a young man contort himself into a strange shape while another contortionist balanced her entire weight on his foot. Robb was seated atop a raised dais with a grey stretch of fabric to keep the sun off his skin.

Beside him sat the Magister who had come and a handful of his advisors—Naavio was his name.

He had silver hair with piercing green eyes, a little thin compared to the King, but handsome in a strange way. He spoke the Common Tongue with the lilting accent of the Pentoshi people which made Y/N smile for some reason. Perhaps it was just the abnormality of his and his entourage’s presence that made it exciting but she felt a little like she had friends whenever one of them would stop and speak to her.

“How are you feeling this morn?”

“Have you decided on names for the young prince or princess?”

“You look as if you are glowing, your grace.” It was all so lovely. And it seemed so genuine, so unlike the empty-eyed smiles she would receive from her ladies-in-waiting and the rest of court. But her favorite was Naavio.

The magistrate made it a point to seek her out whenever he could.

“These two are my favorites,” he whispered to her.

Y/N nearly leapt from her skin, having not noticed him sneak up behind her. “Oh, Seven Heavens, Lord Naavio, you must not frighten me so!”

He chuckled. “I am sorry, Your Grace. You know I would never try to scare you. You are in a delicate state.”

Y/N pressed a hand to her stomach with a smile. “Yes, the maester said only a few more weeks until I can welcome them into the world.”

Naavio’s hand was suddenly pressing against her stomach too and she laughed when she felt her little one’s foot kick right where he had placed his palm. “They enjoy my presence just as much as their mother does, it seems.”

A sudden shadow loomed over them and Y/N pivoted to see Robb standing behind them. His silver and iron crown glinted in the sunlight, a sharp contrast to the near feral light in his blue eyes as he looked at her.

“Take your hand off my wife.”

Naavio’s hand quickly pulled back but he chuckled—again. “Your heir has a strong kick, Your Grace.”

“Yes. My heir.” Robb reached out and snatched Y/N’s wrist. His grip hurt but she knew better than to let out the hiss of pain she felt bubbling at the back of her throat. He tugged, just once, and Y/N knew to walk to his side.

There would be no spectacle.

“You must know how precious a child is,” Robb’s voice was steady but she knew better. The grip he had on her wrist dropped and he pressed his hand against the small of her back. “For a man who seems so desperate to save his kingdom, you are playing a dangerous game.”

Naavio blanched but he still smiled at the wolf-king. “I was only congratulating your wife on the health of her babe. It was a compliment-”

“My wife, the queen of my kingdom, knows how beautiful and lucky she is to be carrying my heir. She does not need your input.” Robb turned to her, eyes piercing. “Am I correct, wife?”

Y/N could only nod.

Y/N knew that Robb would never hurt her. His grip while in the throes of passion left her sore, but he never raised a hand to her. Seven Hells, he barely raised his voice. But Y/N knew of the violence that simmered just below the surface of his skin.

He was a wolf.

He was King.

He was the husband the gods had given her.

And she was scared of him. Something innate and quiet in the back of her mind told her she could not truly trust him. She was not safe.

But he had always kissed her when he was finished with her womanly duties.

And he still found pleasure in her even after he knew she was with child. His eye never wandered to the other many, beautiful highborn ladies who were readily available and arguably eager to be a young king’s mistress. But no.

He had his queen.

And he was his father’s son—that was what Robb had said, anyway.

“You are my queen. I will not dishonor you. And I know you will not dishonor me.” The words were cold as he slammed the door shut to his solar.

Y/N nearly lost her footing as she stumbled in but caught herself on the table, accidentally sending a stack of missives across the floor. “I thought it was a queen’s duty to make allies with her social graces and-”

“A queen’s duty is to provide for her husband.” Robb’s lips were pulled tight against his teeth. But he took a deep breath and then reached for her, hands grasping at her face. “I love you. You hear me? I love you.”

And she wanted to believe it. She had wanted to believe he could love her. “I love you too.”

He leaned forward to press a kiss against her forehead and then righted the spiked crown on the top of her head. “I will not have you near him again.”

Y/N nodded, resigning herself to the loss of another possible friend. Her one solace would be Robb, it seemed. As it had been since she came to King’s Landing. As it always would be.

But Naavio was persistent.

And she was lonely.

When the first letter was smuggled to her, she had not answered. But when the fourth came again and asked her to meet him in the gardens at midnight, her need for some sort of friendship won out and she slipped away from her maids and met the magistrate in a familiar stretch of the garden maze as the moon looked on from above in a starless sky.

“You’ve come!” Naavio said, reaching out to grasp her hands. “I was beginning to think I have offended you in some way, Your Grace.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, ignoring the sudden sharp pain she felt in her stomach. “I am hard to offend, my lord. But it is good to have an ally in a city such as this.”

Naavio chuckled. “Yes, it seems King’s Landing is as fearsome as its king.” He was quiet for a moment, simply looking at her as his thumbs idly swept across the soft skin at the back of her hands. “Pentos is much more amiable.” His grip tightened. “I shall like to take you there, show you my home.”

Y/N’s smile widened just a fraction. “I would like that. I have heard such wondrous things about your home.”

“I could take you there. Spirit you away from this wretched city.”

She gasped and tried to tug her hands from his but his grip did not relent. “My lord, I-”

“You are not happy here. I can see it in your eyes. Do you want to raise your child here? Do you want to spend the rest of your days hoping your king does not lose his supposed love for you? You should be surrounded by people who worship you, adore you—and the babe you will bring into this world.”

Y/N stood and ripped her hands from his with a grimace as the pain she felt started to bloom and grow. “You misunderstand my intentions. I have only wanted friendship.”

Naavio stood with a sneer. “Then you are a fool. Only a child would misconstrue my attentions for mere friendship.”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, to argue, to do anything—when she doubled over, clutching her stomach with a whimper as something trickled down her legs. “I…” Her legs shook and she threw out a hand to tangle in the branches of the greenery at her side, the only thing keeping her upright. “The baby. They’re coming.”

“What have you done?”

Another contraction had her almost falling to her knees but she looked over her shoulder to see Robb and a handful of his kingsguard at his back.

Naavio stood straight. “Your Grace-”

“Seize him.”

And the kingsguard did, almost gleefully taking the foreign magistrate to his knees and, by the sound of it, dislocating his shoulder as well. Naavio shrieked but Y/N could scarcely hear it over the roaring of the blood in her ears.

Familiar hands grasped at her face, tilting her chin up so she could look into the dark, hard eyes of her husband.

“The…baby…the baby is coming…”

“I know.” Robb pulled her close and she could feel the next words rumble in his chest. “Magistrate Naavio, you have tried to take my heir and seduce my wife.”

“I have done no such thing!”

Y/N crumpled in her husband’s hold with a choked scream.

“Take him to the Black Cells. I will deal with him later.”

It took two days to bring little Prince Eddard into the world. But he was beautiful—the most beautiful little one she had ever beheld. Her body was tired, her mind was buzzing, but all she could see was the little bundle in her arms.

Robb did not care about the blood and water and sweat coating the featherbed as he sat beside her and pressed a hard kiss to her temple. His finger traced down his son’s nose. “You have made me happy, Y/N.”

She smiled, eyes finally drooping.

“But it is time the magistrate is dealt with.” He stood and waved his hand, having one of her fine dresses laid out across the bed. In a blur, she was cleaned and dressed and a cup of Milk of the Poppy was all but shoved down her throat by an impassive Maester.

The Great Hall was filled with lords and ladies and knights from across the Realm. All of them had been waiting the birth of the heir of the wolf king but were now going to be witnesses to the king’s judgment, too.

“Naavio. You have come here to beg for reprieve against the Dragon Queen, to ask for help against her campaign.”

Naavio said nothing as he glared up at Robb on the throne, thick chains around his wrists and ankles. His Pentoshi ginery was dirty and ripped. The two days he had spent in the Black Cells had not been kind.

“Instead, you have tried to usurp my own power.”

“I did no-”

“I have sent a raven to Daenerys Targaryen, giving her the information you have given me. Your city will fall. It will burn with dragonfire.”

“Your Grace!” The words broke in Naavio’s throat.

The sudden noise made Eddard fuss in her arms and she gently rocked him, mind still hazy from the Poppy. But the cold green glint of Naavio’s eyes cut through the mess. He was a caged animal.

“This was you! You played your part so well. The innocent queen in need of rescue-”

“Silence!” Robb said, standing from the jagged throne. In the strange quiet of the Great Hall, he descended from his perch and took the reformed Ice from its sheath. “For your crimes against your host, against the good queen Y/N, I sentence you to die.”

Before Naavio could even plead for his life, Robb lifted the greatsword and took the magistrate’s head.

Robb was rutting against her, hard hands grasping at her breasts, pulling at the flesh of her hips, wrapping around her throat.

It hurt.

But she loved how he wrapped himself around her, loved how he would press his lips to her sweat-slick skin, loved him. Even if the maester had said it was too soon for the king to visit her chambers for such an act.

“You’ll give me another. You’ll give me ten more.”

“I will!” She cried.

“You’ll give me all of you because you are mine.” His hand tightened around her neck as his hips moved faster and faster. “Only mine.”

“Yours,” Y/N said as her throat burned.

His hips stuttered and a familiar warmth bloomed but he did not stop, could not stop until she was sobbing against his mouth with her own release. It hurt even more.

Sweat cooled on their skin as the high slowly died. Robb turned and pressed a biting kiss to her throat, still tender from his grip. His beard scratched her slick skin. “Mine. And you will always be mine.”

As she caught her breath, Robb rose from the mussed blankets of her featherbed and pulled his trousers on just as the door opened and a nursemaid brought in Eddard, snoozing in her arms. She readily handed the babe over to the king and then left, not even acknowledging the queen’s presence aside from a small curtsey.

Robb smiled down at his son and he looked genuinely happy—the smile he had reserved only for her.

She had made him happy. That was all she wanted.

“I will not have another man thinking to steal you away, wife.”

“O-of course not. You know I would never-”

“I must keep you to myself. And I will.” He looked at Y/N for a moment before leaning down to kiss his son’s forehead. The babe reached up and cooed, pressing his little hand against his father’s cheek. “You are mine. Only mine.”

He walked to the side of the bed and let her hold him as he dressed again and she lathed happy little kisses over her son’s face, listening to him giggle—but then Robb took him away. “What are you doing?”

“I am keeping you.” Robb kissed her cheek and then stood straight and walked to the door. When it opened, she saw three kingsguard standing outside, bedecked in their battle armor and swords at their hips.

“Robb?” His name was soft, strangled in her throat. “Your Grace?”

“She does not leave this room unless I am at her side.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Robb nodded and then smiled down at his son as the door swung closed. A heavy lock twisted.

Y/N stared at the door. She was not sure if she expected it to open again, or to at least hear another word from Robb on the other side, telling her what she must to do. But there was nothing.

She was alone.

A/N: All right! There we go! Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

#robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark #darkfic #game of thrones #dubious consent #toxic relationship #tw: dub-cob #tw: dubious consent #dub con #game of thrones imagine

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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Moments of Despair #2 [Genshin Impact/Albedo x Reader]

Synopsis: "The alchemist who relished in his gifts only to fall from grace."

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Diluc’s despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death and psychological horror (correct me if otherwise)

(A/n): I decided to take a slightly different approach this time. Regardless, it’s still killing my heart TwT.

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Out of the many wonders of Teyvat, one thing Albedo loved most was how you were so different from him.

Difference ties to the unknown, one that must be discovered. He was drawn to you the first time he had laid his eyes upon your form standing at the heights of Mondstadt's cathedral. The Sisters scolded you from below, but all you did was reply with a wink amidst their chaos before soaring into the skies and letting the wind carry your glider. Reckless they said. For him, your recklessness was intriguing.

As the sun's light blinded his vision, everything he saw seemed like a glass barrier. For the ground was where he thrived and chalk was his core, it became the basis of Albedo's very existence. Even the geo Archon granted him a Vision of the same element to affirm his identity. The earth will forever be attached to his feet as he will keep on his stride until every last truth of Teyvat have all been realized. You, on the other hand, hailed from a place where he couldn't quite reach. What lies beyond this glass ceiling? Albedo found himself gradually holding onto a string of curiosities, a string he could touch but was not able to feel.

'Interesting,' he thought quietly, while the breeze slip between the fingers of his outstretched hand.

He was a character of logic, possessing sharp eyes that could pierce through the depths of the most complex formulas and a mind to predict their outcomes- as long as alchemy was still related. All impossibilities thrown in his way only paved a path for him to become the well known genius he was now. Whether it was alchemy or investigations with the Knights of Favonius, Albedo never failed to deliver the answers. But despite it all, he always found himself endlessly contemplating over things that were considered intangible. He wonders why you smile when there was nothing to laugh about. How could you tell between the complexities of the human heart? Albedo can't seem to put a finger on it.

'Why? What drives you? What are you thinking?'

The Chief Alchemist couldn't resist being fascinated by your unpredictability. It reels him in similar to a fish being baited out of the waters. However, unlike those creatures, Albedo only tightened his grip on the strings as if they were a lifeline, determined to find out what they truly felt like to the touch.

"I can't really say it's much of an answer," you hummed, clasping both hands behind your back before declaring with a grin, "To put it simply, you just gotta follow your heart."

'Follow your heart...' What does it mean to follow your heart?

"I'm afraid I still don't understand," he replied in a thoughtful manner. The statement never really resonated with him and it certainly weren't the words his Master taught when he was in the early stages of being created, "But it does suit you very much."

"Really? But still bring your head with you," a playful laugh escapes and you add while pointing a finger, "At least, it's what everyone tells me these days."

"Hm," Albedo then affirms with a nod, "I can definitely see why they would tell you that."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

The days go by and his repetitious march towards the truth remains the same. However, there was never a dull moment when you were at his side. Perhaps that was the reason why Albedo became so attracted to your aura. The way you'd follow around his experiments, eyes so full of enthusiasm at every step of the activity. Sometimes the events can get a little too out of hand in which he needs to step in and save you from getting stuck in slime condensates...constantly. Albedo grew fond of your childlike excitement even when you weren't entirely sure what was going on. He normally distanced himself from socializing as it never sparked his interest. Frankly, he was too much of a genius for mundane conversations. Your presence was rather refreshing in this case. You were an oddball, just like him, and for once the alchemist felt like he didn't need to place that glass barrier between the two worlds.

"You seem to be in a very good mood today Mister Albedo."

He was a man of subtle expressions yet anyone could notice the small gleam in his eyes whenever he saw you walking in the hallway. Sucrose often remarked with a giggle after she noticed her teacher holding his documents upside down. But who could blame him? Joy, fun, laughter. He was able to experience those emotions all because of you; his beloved. You were the colour to his canvas and the meaning to his flower. You were a force of nature. Like a warm breeze gracing upon the terrestrial lands, you move him.

Thump- thump- thump-

Strings around his world began to weave one whole picture while they also tugged inside his chest. God had finally blown the breath of life into mankind's body, it was only a matter of time before Albedo came to follow his heart too.

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"Alright, just one more detail aaaaand done!"

You gave a small tap using the tip of your pencil and leaned back to examine your artwork.

Masterpiece!

On days when Katheryne had no commissions assigned to the guild, Albedo would accompany you to the Whispering Woods and conduct his sketches there instead. He was aware of the discomfort Dragonspine brought as the temperature wasn't ideal for anyone except for him. You eventually learned that your lover was not only intelligently different from the rest but physically too. Albedo, aside from the Cavalry Captain, was mysterious in his own way. He was hard to read yet never came off as intimidating, no one knew of his origins nor they knew how he came to Mondstadt. You wondered why someone like him would have wanted to get involved with your shenanigans. Rosaria often gave warnings regarding the alchemist's 'hidden intentions' in which you'd roll your eyes in response. The Albedo you knew was far from that. He was a big brother to Klee, a man passionate about his work, he was the one golden star among the many silvers in your sky. He was your lover.

My Albedo.

Brushing a hand upon the drawing you made of him, you glided down the lines of his cheek before resting your finger on the mark by his neck. You gazed at it with fondness. Truly a masterpiece indeed.

"You do realize I'm still here?"

The paper nearly flies out of your grasp and you snatched it back to your chest, "HUH A-ALBEDO, WHEN DID YOU APPEAR???"

"I was with you the whole time," he states. The corner of his lip tug upward ever so slightly, "You said you wanted to sketch me."

"A-Ahahaha, so I did," you reply while scratching your head bashfully. 'I thought I was looking at a sculpture!!' You rushed to cover your face with the sheet. It wasn't that you forgot he was there, rather, you forgot he was still a living and breathing specimen who just witnessed your little serenade. As Lisa had once said, Albedo was easy on the eyes. His graceful features made him seem almost like an oil painting that could only be found in halls of the most prestigious households. You made sure to capture everything, every detail, every curve just like he had done with your portraits. Only now you noticed the sun already began its descent below the lakeside, dusting the landscape with hints of bright orange as it marked the day's end. If only time could slow down. But duty calls upon your next journey and there was no telling when you'd return. At the very least, a simple portrait would suffice to fill in the temporary gap of his absence.

"Can I see it?"

You glanced his direction while keeping the drawing close to your nose, "Are you sure about that? It might not be up to your expectations."

"I'm sure," Albedo affirms with a straight countenance, "I can already tell you've put a great amount of effort, otherwise you wouldn't have taken this long."

"Yeeaahh I kinda lost track of time. I guess it's only fair that you get to see the finished product," you say and shoved the drawing in front of him, "Tada! I present to you, my masterpiece!"

Albedo takes it out of your grasp and you watched the way his eyes expanded upon sight.

"Well? Whaddya think?"

Words could not describe the mixture of emotions that erupted within him. Was it distinguishable or abstract? Albedo spent his time pondering between the two answers as he examined the drawing closely. Despite the lines being slightly jagged and the unevenness in the placement of his eyes, he managed to make the shape of the entire image you were trying to convey. Perhaps it was all thanks to his well trained artistic vision which gave him the ability to do so. Or maybe he was simply biased. But there wasn't a shred of doubt that this was indeed your craftsmanship.

"You even added flowers in the background," he pointed out with amusement.

"It's the thing you make when using your elemental burst, I couldn't fit your hand in the picture so I decided to put it somewhere empty," you informed, "Out of everything, that one took me the longest."

"And the rabbits?"

"They resemble Klee's bombs!"

He lets out a chuckle, "I see."

Albedo kept his attention downward until he was mindlessly staring at the paper in hand. This was a memory made to be carried as you moved on to your next journey and it saddens him that he could not accompany you. If only time slowed down. Albedo wanted to hold onto the memory forever, because he knew once he gave it back, he wouldn't be able to see you for an uncertain amount of time.

"Do you really have to go?"

His voice was barely above a whisper. Guilt crept into your heart and you gingerly layed your fingers on his gloved ones, bringing down the paper that blocked his face. A pair of teal orbs held a reflection of your image as the sun's rays casted from the side. You returned it with a reassuring grin, hoping to soothe his worries somehow, "I just need to pay a visit to my father since he's been very sick lately. I'll be fine, so don't worry too much okay?"

Albedo turns over his palm and gave your hand a squeeze, "How long will it take?"

"I'm not sure but it will be a while. Snezhnaya is pretty far so..." you trailed off, "But my time in Mondstadt, with Klee and with you, I will never forget! I won't even if I tried."

When you were met with no answer, a breeze came in to fill the melancholic silence. He too will not forget and he would ensure that it was the same for you. Slowly, Albedo brought your hand up, past the center of his heart all the way to cupping his cheek. He allowed himself to indulge in your warmth, tangling the strands of his hair with your fingers while closing his eyes. Sweet flowers. You always carried the smell of sweet flowers.

"Albedo?" You gawked, "What's the matter?"

"...There are certain aspects where drawings can't imitate," he says, grip tightening ever so slightly, "How I feel against your skin, the shape of my jaw, your warmth radiating with my own. These are the things I want you to remember."

Breath leaves your slightly parted mouth. It was unfair how straightforward Albedo could be when showing his affection. Doing as he pleases without anyone's approval to the point it would even catch you off guard since he often absorbed himself in the arts of alchemy. But during times when Albedo did choose to express his feelings, you knew they came from a place of pure genuinity. The thought made it hard for you to tear away from him, "Did you ever find out what the strings felt like then?"

Albedo returns his gaze, long golden lashes hovering them as he smiles softly, "...I have."

As he began to reveal his stories, the dusk sky continued to flare across the landscape with colours of passion. Red, it was the thread that had led him to you, the same string that weaved him together as a whole. Albedo lays a kiss atop of your pinky, there was a reason why Mondstadtians called him the Chalk Prince. You didn't know the intention behind his sudden affection but he knew. It was a promise, one to ensure that the thread would also have you return safely back into his arms.

Oh how he hated the colour red.

"Al...bedo..."

With speed he never knew he had, Albedo scoops you into his embrace and held you close. How did everything happen so fast? He curses his mind as it proceeds to scan your injuries, drawing a conclusion where he wished to be wrong for once:

You were beyond help.

"Ah..haha..." you managed to laugh through bitter tears, "You don't have to say it. I know."

His breath hitches, trying to make sense of the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It's not real. Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. What other possible answer was there to explain the numbness stinging his fingers? The reason for his shaking? Everything felt so cold. Your body hardly registered to his to touch, you were losing so much blood. You were losing. He was going to lose you.

"No," Albedo shakes his head, "We still have time. I'll go find help."

Please, hold on.

He forced himself to think. The ruin hunter ran off shortly after it had ambushed you, by now the Knights would eventually noticed and apprehended it on sight. They couldn't be too far. All he needed was to carry you back to safety and everyone can go home. Albedo darted his eyes all over the place, breaths becoming shallower with each passing second. Where? Where to go? Which route was best to not overexert your wounds? Think. Think. Think. Why couldn't he think?

"A..." You watched him in your helpless state. Every part of you throbbed with pain but it pains you even more to see the renowned genius who stood atop the pedestal of elegance and grace so utterly, undoubtedly lost. This was not the goodbye you wanted, though death already had you tight in their grasps. Not yet. Using the last particle of your strength, you tried to stay alive as long as possible. Just a little bit more time.

Albedo freezes when a trembling hand extends itself to cup around his cheek. Every single thought he had in mind vanished and was replaced by a loud ring resonating in his ears. Dreadfully, mechanically, he turns his attention to where you lay.

"Don't cry," you whisper, "I love you, don't cry- okay?"

Albedo grimaces, shutting his eyes closed as he allows the pent up sadness to flow out of him completely, "I can't," he said in a shaky voice, "Please. Stay."

"I'm sorry," Your vision blurs and he hugs you even more. Drawing your final breath, you relay your most cherished words through a broken smile, "But no matter w-where I go...I won't for..ge.."

The moment your hand fell, Albedo finally understood the difference between death and loss.

It was...suffocating. Having the air trapped in his throat, begging to release yet it hurts to speak. The never ending stabs that pulsed within his veins rushed forth like the scraping blizzard of Dragonspine until his whole body lost all its senses. The world was shattering. He could no longer feel your weight. He could no longer feel.

(Y/n).

Albedo glances at his blood stained fingers where the thread had been severed, wide eyes drowning in sorrow. What a horrible feeling. Was this a warning sent by the gods? For stepping into the boundaries of knowing too much? Ah the curse of knowledge man must bear when eating the temptatious fruit. It was the result of choosing to love you. With life, death is inevitable and with love, it will eventually bring pain. Everything had a price to pay and as an alchemist, Albedo knew that better than anyone.

"...Meaningless..."

But he refused to accept it.

Cradling your corpse, he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, lips quivering as they lingered for a second too long before gathering the strength to stand back on his feet. Nothing will stop the alchemist from reuniting with you. If the laws wished to take you away from him then he will use everything in his power to fight against those laws.

"This is not goodbye..." Albedo said to the sleeping girl, "And it will never be."

When the sun sinks below the plains and the stars lose their light, the sky had been replaced with a palette of darkness. It was time to go home.

------

"Have you all heard about the rumours?"

A group of knights gather in the corner as they whisper about. Sucrose stops on her tracks and hides behind a wall, clutching the book close to her chest in an attempt to stay hidden.

"Another criminal disappeared from the dungeons? Crazy..."

"More like creepy. I was told that place might be haunted by some dead prisoner's ghost. Even the Church is hopping onto this case."

"Well I hope it doesn't get any worse. So many of us started going on night patrols..."

Their voices faded out of range as the anemo user backtracks her steps carefully. Several months passed since the news of mysterious kidnappings have been announced to the public. Rumours of their whereabouts swirled around the city and much to her discomfort, Sucrose happened to catch every single one of them. There couldn't possibly be evil spirits lurking in the Favonious Headquarters right? She silently shrieks at the thought, shaking her head furiously to stop her mind from going too deep. No, I have to find him. Without wasting another minute, the anemo user sprinted towards the stairs all the way up to the second floor before stopping directly in front of her teacher's office. Despite the adrenaline that occured at the same time, she made sure to knock.

No answer.

"Strange, he told me he would be here today..." Sucrose muttered to herself. But suddenly she heard the sound of objects shifting from the otherside, signaling that there was indeed someone occupying the room. Without realizing, she held her breath out of anticipation.

"Come in."

The door creaks as she opens them, giving her enough space to slip between the gap, "Mister Albedo?"

"You're early today," The Chief Alchemist noted from his desk, "Is there something the matter?"

"Y-You mean you don't know? There was just another case about a person disappearing from the dungeons," Her tone became more frantic as she rambled to herself, "The kidnapper never leaves a trace and no one knows how they were able to get out. Even when we ask the guards what happened, they can't seem to remember as if...as if someone casted a spell on them!"

"A spell?" He inquires, "I suppose that could be a possibility."

"I think so too. I-It's the only explanation that makes sense! I mean...ghosts don't exist after all," Sucrose nervously looks down at her shoes while giving her book a squeeze, "But why? Who could be capable of such advanced techniques? No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand their intentions."

"...Yes. It is a very strange occurrence indeed."

Noticing her teacher's withdrawn attitude, Sucrose couldn't help but feel flustered at her own behaviour, "Ah my apologies Mister Albedo, I didn't mean to go off track. Have there been any progress on the investigations so far?"

Albedo briefly glanced at the various documents splayed across his table. His reputation as an incredibly intelligent individual had reached far and wide through Mondstadt. This led to the authorities requesting his assistance regarding the recent matters, despite him specializing in the alchemical field, he was also the Captain of their Investigation Team. Although, Albedo detested partaking in things he deemed irrelevant to his research;

"I'm afraid I would need more evidence to draw a conclusion."

"Eh? You still need more?"

He could not deny that the given authoritative position had provided much benefits to his own accord.

"My expertise lies in the subject of alchemy," Albedo reasoned and proceeds to intertwine his fingers in front of his mouth, "Humans on the other hand, are very unpredictable in nature. Even the essence of their existence is hard to obtain."

"Essence of their existence?" Sucrose repeated softly. She wanted to ask what he meant but the blank expression was evident enough to signal his impatience. At least, that was what she thought, "Nevermind! I have something that might help," taking out a slip from her textbook, she handed it to him, "It's the report Captain Kaeya gave me. He said that the culprit might be a traitor coming from the Knights of Favonius."

He narrows his eyes.

"I-I think he might be right! Just think about it, we haven't found anything at all for the past few months but when we do, I sometimes feel like we're just running in circles...oh what if it's becau-"

"Sucrose."

"Y-Yes?!"

Albedo calmly looks at the flustered girl, not realizing how sharp his tone was, "You're overthinking again. Perhaps it's best that you take this day off."

"But I came here to help," she insisted, "I know it hurts to lose someone you love! Don't you understand that we're all worried about you? And Klee, she..."

"..."

"Please Mister Albedo, if there's anything I could do-"

"No need," he cuts her off once again, "Your stress levels are too high. We can't go any further if you continue to act like this."

"Oh," her ruby eyes casted to the side, "I understand..."

"Good. Now, if you would excuse me," Albedo bid her farewell and watched as the door clicked behind her, observing every detail until he was sure that the absolute silence had returned. He picks up Kaeya's document. Such remarkable handwriting. But of course, appearances are only meant to be displayed on the surface for the Captain was a sly man, wearing a mask to shield what lies underneath. Just like his letter, they were full of innuendos and condensed meanings, orchestrated together until the truth spoke loudly to Albedo himself.

"So, that's what he thinks."

Perhaps the alchemist should have been a little more discreet.

--------

There was a certain place in Dragonspine that no one dared to enter. But those who have, they never return.

"Hm, no response. Now as for the next step..."

And he was the reason why.

Taking the sword out of the transmutation circle, Albedo turned to the snowy hill nearby and activated his alchemy. A small portion of it dissipates, revealing a trench that went so deep underground that even warmth couldn't outplay the sheer cold. It was the perfect hiding place for the evidence to lay out of sight and an environment where only he could handle. The alchemist tossed the leftover along with the others before exiting quietly, summoning back the ice to bury his victims once again. Another day, another experiment, another stain goes to his title. The path he walked upon was one littered with corpses and the sins he committed. But despite the bones crunching beneath his feet and the weight of the dead hanging on his shoulders, the alchemist was numb to it all. Like an entity floating in space with nothing to hold, he became unable to feel.

"I'm back," When reaching the center of Starglow Cavern, Albedo puts his hand on the icicle and caressed it's hard cold surface, "Did you sleep well?"

The girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as young as ever. She was frozen in time.

"You must have."

Albedo felt the sword beginning to shake in his grasp as it resonated with his energy. Dust particles emitted from the hilt and slowly made their climb to the side of his arm. Still, Albedo's attention did not waver, "To this day, I've been thinking about what you told me the first time we met."

"..."

"Follow your heart. I couldn't understand it at first but after being around your presence, I believe I can finally recognize what that term means."

He closes his eyes as he envisioned your lively form running across the landscape. Albedo, Albedo! The sound of his name was mixed with your laughter while Klee came into the scene and caught the dandelions with you. A content smile formed on his countenance as he watched from afar, even if it was just a memory, "It's everything. The breakfast we ate together, to the nights spent camping outside, and the silly moments we shared, they bring all these colours that I never knew existed."

"..."

Albedo curls his fingers against the ice as he continues to lament, "Perhaps that's why I began noticing the strings around me. The closer I was to answer, the more I felt it was necessary to discover what they are. All this time, you were the answer I was searching for," Moist begins to build up in his eyes but they freeze up once reaching the corners. How cruel. Despite what he went through, he wasn't even granted the liberty to cry, "Because with you, I'm able to feel them."

He wonders what you would think if you saw him right now. Albedo peers at his reflection casted on the crystalline surface, the frame of his face had been decorated with streaks of purple and red, spreading out like tree branches as they both fought for dominance. The teal coloured orbs you once adored were beginning to transform to a colour that reminded him of his darkest days. This was Albedo's true nature- a monster, a being that wasn't human, the essence in which you never had the chance to see.

"I know I may not be the same as I was before," he added, "But if that is what it takes to follow your heart, will you let me feel the strings again?"

Would you still love me the same?

"..."

"If so, then please understand my actions," Albedo takes a step back as he held out the sword in front of him. At last, the preparations have finally been completed. He plunges the blade to the ground with full force and the surrounding area begins to shake under the power accumulated through many, intentional sacrifices. To revive the dead was a forbidden art as it came with heavy consequences. If it weren't for Albedo's talent and quick wit, the process would have consumed him long before executing the last stage. He winces, the pain was excruciating. It was hard for him to ignore the sound of his skin cracking below his ears and all the way to his nose as they fall off in the shape of small rock-like chunks. Everything hurt so much that even death sounded like a sweet dream but Albedo couldn't afford to give up. He had already come this far, his hands completely washed with sin and his reputation already broken beyond repair, Albedo had nowhere else to go. This was his last destination.

"Soon-" he pants between choked breaths. Soon your eyes will open. He could drown in your embrace, one that was warm and not cold. Soon he will be able revive those cherished memories from a frozen past. It was all he could think of right now. Your existence was the reason why a part of him felt whole and your death made him realize how painful it was to tear away those pieces. Albedo refused to let go of those pieces, they had already become a part of him. And if this path ended up tearing him even more, then so be it.

"I should have stopped you the moment you were born."

The intruder snapped him awake and he swung around to where they stood. But before Albedo could make out who it was, they lunged past him with incredible speed, kicking the sword off the ground while severing his two arms once and for all. They flew to the side, blood dyed purple trickling from the edges of his joint as he struggled to stay upright.

"Dains...leif..."

Dainsleif watched the alchemist fall onto his back as the light around him slowly faded away. He turned his gaze to where the objective was and noticed a girl encased within the ice. The man sighs out of relief when she shows no signs of life, he came just in time, "So this is how it ends."

Albedo weakly stared at the blonde man. He attempted to say something but the blood caught in his mouth prevented him from that.

"Save your breath, you won't be having any," Dainsleif remarks in a cold manner and glared at his bloodied form, "The renowned Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt and an important member of Ordo Favonious. Hmph, what an interesting turn of events. Out of everyone, I never thought you were the type to act so foolish."

Foolish...what a foreign name to be called as. He never heard anyone tell him he was foolish.

"Truly a pity," With a flick of a wrist, Dainsleif brought his sword to Albedo's neck. It was unbelievable how he had the endurance to go through all that pain while still breathing at this point but what is there to be expected from a monster? "Remember that all actions have consequences."

The alchemist watched as his life flashed before him, the weight of his sins had finally caught up. He had always seen the world as a platform for his objectives and results were merely a natural cause after attempting many experiments. But death as a consequences was an unbearble realization upon his final moments. He abandoned his title, his pupil and his dearest sister. In the end, he was still unable to fulfill his duty.

"I just..." Albedo mumbled, his words slurring together, "wanted..."

As the ashes turn to ashes and dust becomes dust, chalk returns to the earth, forever yearning a place that can never be reached.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #albedo #albedo x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #nya-writes #dainsleif #genshin impact dainsleif #sucrose

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius.

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin Sweet Cheeks.

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked.

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

“Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations. We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured. I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings. I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator.

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt. I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #reid smut #mgg

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

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Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 1

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. First, 2 platonic chapters for set-up/build-up. And then, the story will split into 2 paths depending on your romantic pairing preference: You and Thrawn, or You and Eli.

Set Up: You are an outcast at the Imperial Academy, which means your only options for friends are the tall and stoic Chiss Mitth'raw'nuruodo and his translator from Wild Space Eli Vanto. The three of you get along, for the most part... Thrawn is obsessed with acing all the exams, Eli is desperate to show up his classmates, and you... well, you just want to feel like you belong somewhere. And hiding beneath it all are your unspoken feelings, longing to be realized, but fearful of ruining the balance of your trio's friendship....

Chapter Masterlist

Chapter 1: The Problem

Pairing: None yet, just a nice friendship trio

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of bullying

Length: 2k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

You wound down the hallways of the building with a scowl on your face. You would never grow used to this ridiculously long walk, from your first class of the day to the next, so conveniently located on complete opposite sides of the facility. Whoever had designed your schedule this year was either an utter imbecile or had done so on purpose, just to tick you off. At this point in your education here at the Imperial Academy, you knew either scenario was equally likely. You weren't exactly liked by the staff or your peers, and there were plenty of idiots to go around.

The one saving grace of your journey was that you would eventually cross paths with the only two friends you had managed to make in this elitist hell-hole: Eli Vanto and Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

Eli would be the first, his class letting out just a few corridors away from yours. He was leaning against an alcove in the wall just out of the way of passing traffic, his usual spot. When you rounded the corner, he pushed off and fell into step beside you.

"What happened?" you asked, having noticed he was scowling as well. His resting face usually made him look like a sad puppy, so for him to have such a prominent frown this early in the morning, something really upsetting must have happened.

"Lost the debate," he grumbled.

Ah, you'd forgotten he had that today. You and Thrawn had helped him practice for weeks, covering every possible argument and rebuttal from his opponent on the assigned topic. He had it in the bag, or so you'd all thought.

"What? How? Don't tell me you got stage-fright."

He glared over at you. "No, I wasn't nervous or anything. I did everything perfect. But all Arden had to do was throw in a few snide remarks about my accent and that got the whole class turned in his favor."

Eli started biting down on one of his nails in frustration. You frowned along with him. That was a variable none of you had accounted for while practicing.

"Is Arden the pimply-faced guy?"

"Yeah."

"Hate him," you muttered.

"Yeah."

The two of you paused at the doors of a lift, waiting for the previous occupants to exit before filing in yourselves and punching the button for the next level up. Eli was still chewing on his nails.

"Stop," you exclaimed, swatting his hand away from his mouth. "I told you that's a bad habit."

"Oh yeah, what's this then?" He grabbed one of your hands and twisted it around so you could see the splotches of chipped polish on your nails.

You jerked your hand away and held it defensively against your chest. "There's only so much I can do with this insane caseload, okay? I haven't had time to think about my nails."

"Then why'd you paint 'em in the first place?" he said with a bit of a laugh. Well, at least his mood was improving, even if it was at your expense.

You swatted at him just as the lift doors opened. "Maybe I want to try feeling pretty sometimes, not like some zombie student."

You both were keenly aware that the cadets waiting to board the lift had backed up significantly as you passed, despite not having been in your way at all. They were all whispering too, and by the tone, it was probably not about very nice things. It was always like that, wherever you went. Even if they didn't know your reputations of being from wild, "backwater" planets, they need only hear one of you speak to know you were different. And in these Core worlds, different was inferior.

"You know you don't have to follow our course map, right?" Eli spoke up again, once you'd put some distance between the lift of sneering cadets. "Me, I don't have a choice. Thrawn's determined to graduate in as little time as possible, and I'm the sorry sucker who has to follow 'im. I'd run far away from the guy if I were you. Enjoy your freedom."

Eli complained about the last member of your trio, Thrawn, at least six times a day. And half of those complaints ended with him telling you to make a break for it. You knew he didn't mean any of it; the two of you had spent the last holiday break at a bar, and in his drunkenness, Eli had confessed to being secretly grateful for having met the Chiss. He only complained to cope with the stress.

And you... well, you weren't really sure why they let you hang around. They'd both easily become your closest friends, but you weren't always sure where you stood with them. Maybe they did like your company. Or maybe they just felt sorry for you. They were both friendly enough, allowing you to join them on Thrawn's "fast track" out of the Academy. But you had a feeling that as soon as you all graduated, they'd leave you behind and move on to whatever mission the Emperor had planned for Thrawn in the Navy.

You tried not to think about it too much.

Speaking of your friend, Mitth'raw'nuruodo emerged from a classroom doorway just a few paces ahead. Right on time, as always. His specialized "tactical statistics" class ended several minutes ago, but he had learned to carefully time your path so he wouldn't have to stand awkwardly in the hall waiting. It was for the best; you and Eli may sometimes draw unwanted attention, but poor Thrawn always stood out like a very big, very blue sore thumb.

"We have a problem," he stated, coming up on your other side. You never had to ask Thrawn what was wrong; if he had a problem worth sharing, you would hear about it.

"Hallway problem or 'fresher problem?" asked Eli.

You'd all agreed long ago there were some topics of conversation best had out of earshot from any passerby. And since most scurried out of the refresher whenever Thrawn went in, that became the only suitable place for such conversations, if it couldn't wait until your dorms at the end of the day.

"Refresher," Thrawn said. He looked down at you. "You'll be late for your class."

You shrugged. "If it's important...."

"It is."

You trusted him; he wasn't the type to make up drama or blow things out of proportion. The three of you picked up the pace, turning right instead of the usual left, and slipping into the men's bathroom. Thankfully it was already empty. Eli turned the lock just in case.

Thrawn wasted no time diving into the particulars. "I have come to learn our flight instructor, Commander Burdick, intends to sabotage my simulation tests next month. He is acquainted with Admissions Supervisor Aberdeen and understands that a failing mark will require a remedial course before being allowed back into the program. This would set my graduation back several months."

That was a problem. The flight course was one of the longer ones, and mandatory, and you were all so close to finally being through with it. Just one more round of simulation tests and then an actual flight around Coruscant.

Eli was groaning by the door. "You've gotta be kidding."

"I am not," said Thrawn in a measured voice. He knew it was just an expression, but you knew it was one of his pet peeves.

Eli wasn't listening, instead kicking at the tiled floor and mumbling about how this was so typical and why can't we just be left alone.

You turned to Thrawn. "Just you?"

"The ill will seems to be mostly directed toward me. Supervisor Aberdeen does not appreciate the special provisions that have been afforded me on behalf of the Emperor, and has coerced Commander Burdick to indulge in his spitefulness. However, I would not put it past them to also have plans for either of you, as well. They are aware of our... connection."

You were certain he was about to say friendship but changed his mind. Did he not know the word for it? Was he too embarrassed to admit it? Or did he truly not see you or Eli as anything more than connections?

"Okay, but..." Eli was still processing things. "How? What's their plan?"

"I purposefully said the Commander intended to sabotage the tests. He does not yet have a plan."

"So... we stop 'im," said Eli.

"Or," you countered, a mischievous smirk playing about your lips. "We don't."

Eli merely blinked at you, but Thrawn was very interested. "Go on," he encouraged.

"If we learn what the plan is, or maybe even give him a plan of our own, then we can let it play out and ensure he gets in trouble for it."

Thrawn rubbed his chin as he considered. You knew he'd soon slip into his usual routine of pacing and muttering in unknown languages, which could take a while and make you even later for your class. You cleared your throat, drawing his two red eyes back to yours.

"Surely a Commanding Officer wouldn't dare do anything to sabotage you directly," you offered. "He'll either look for some help or pin it on someone else, in case there's an investigation."

Thrawn rubbed his chin again. "You think we should influence the Commander on who to pick to be his... what do you call it, ensipki?"

"Scapegoat," Eli said quickly. It was becoming second nature for him to translate what was left of the holes in Thrawn's understanding of Basic.

"Right, and then we can expose the deception just before the tests," you said. "Before there's time to come up with another plan."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed in thought. "A decent idea, but it would require the education of one of our fellow cadets to be jeopardized. It should not be our first plan."

"But if he's going to use one of them anyway..." you started to protest.

"Then we should seek to expose his connection to that person as well. This is an instructor who is not serving the best interest of several of his students. He should be the only one blamed."

You weren't going to let his logic win this time. As far as you could tell, this was a perfect opportunity to get revenge on your obnoxious classmates. "It's going to be a lot easier to take issue up with the Board against a student than an instructor. We can try to expose both people, but if we can't, then at least we can nail one of them. It's called a scapegoat for a reason."

Eli spoke up before Thrawn could respond, throwing you a meaningful look. "Arden's in his class. Different time, same instructor."

"Who is this Arden?" asked Thrawn.

"The racist asshole who unfairly stole Eli's grade on the debate today," you said. You'd picked your words deliberately, and it did the trick.

"Very well. We have our scapegoat," said Thrawn.

You winked at Eli and he hid a smile.

"So," Thrawn continued, fully invested now. "We will need to push Arden toward the Commander as a viable accomplice. We will need to gain insight into the details of their plan. And then we will need to ensure those details are brought to light at the right moment."

The three of you looked among each other. This was probably the tenth plan this year alone that you'd all devised to take care of some kind of "problem." Just last week Thrawn had discovered misinformation in one of your textbooks that took the three of you on a field trip to the lower levels of Coruscant to find a con-artist who'd sold a quarter-hundred counterfeit materials to the Academy library. You'd only had the weekend to catch up on all the rest of your homework, and here you all were again, ready to jump into another scheme.

You had suggested the idea, so you were already grinning and ready to go. Thrawn had just put together a to-do list, and you could almost see the gears in his head continuing to spin as he determined more points to the plan.

The deciding vote was Eli. Though he often complained about not having a choice, you and Thrawn rarely forced him to do anything and were always respectful if he had a differing opinion. This time, you had a feeling he'd be on board.

He set his hands on his hips and smirked. "Disgracing a shitty classmate and a shitty teacher in order to save our grades? Let's do it."

Next Chapter: The Plan >

#star wars #thrawn #eli vanto #thrawn x reader #eli vanto x reader #choose your own adventure #friendship #romance #mitth'raw'nuruodo

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apptowonder · 3 years

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Beautiful City -- A Theological Ramble on “Godspell”-- Pt. I: Jesus Musicals and Christology

So I had a lot of thoughts and F e e l i n g s about the 2011 revival of Tebelak and Schwartz’s musical Godspell and I wanted to share some of them here. This is gonna be a pretty disorganized piece (hence the title), but I hope that whether you’re a fan of the show or a reader of my work, you might find at least one thing that resonates or helps you understand why I feel the way I do about this show. To give my thoughts some structure, I’m turning this into a blog post series. This first piece will be divided into two sections: a longer section on theology and a shorter section on personal response.

1. Godspell vs JCS, and a Brief Diversion on Christologies

So one easy hot take is to compare and contrast Godspell with Jesus Christ Superstar, the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical that came out around the same time. Conservative Christians at the time were not too fond of either of them, but both found a strong audience among secular theater-goers and (presumably) progressive Christians. Tebelak, fwiw, was gay and a lifelong Episcopalian who had considered the priesthood at various points in his life. Webber is an agnostic who says he finds Jesus fascinating as an important historical figure. These facts aren’t meant to favor one writer over the other (although I will explain below why I personally prefer Godspell), but knowing these facts does do some to explain why these shows ended up the way they did while covering very similar subjects.

The general consensus I’ve heard and would agree with is that Superstar is about the interpersonal relationships of Jesus the man, and especially his relationship with Judas Iscariot. Godspell also brings the relationship between Judas and Jesus to the foreground, but Godspell (true to its name) is ultimately more about the gospel itself. About Jesus’ teachings, about the community of love that he created, and a little bit about Jesus the Son of God.

In this respect, I’d like to propose that these two musicals unintentionally illustrate two historic approaches to understanding the person and work of Christ. Jesus Christ Superstar loosely follows a theology of Christ which is aligned with the historic Antiochene school of Christology.

A. Antioch

(St. John Chrysostom, famed Patriarch of Constantinople and student of the Antiochene School)

The Catechetical School of Antioch was a loose affiliation/institution of theologians who trained many of the prominent clergy in the Eastern churches. It emphasized the distinction between the divine and human natures of Christ. It was most invested in historical readings of Scripture. While the orthodox Antiochene scholars certainly confessed that Christ was both divine and human, they tended to state that the divinity of God the Son was not always accessible to Jesus in his humanity. Taken to the extreme, some Antiochenes embraced the heresies of Adoptionism* or Nestorianism**. The value of this school, however, was the investment in an accessible, anthropological reading of Scripture, and an understanding of Christ that emphasized the transcendence of the Son of God and the humanity of Jesus as one of us.

Jesus Christ Superstar approaches its subject matter with a mixture of both pathos and cynicism (intentional or otherwise). Taking place entirely during the Passion, none of the theophanic moments of Christ’s life are depicted (eg, the Baptism of Christ or the Transfiguration).*** We see only his humanity, and it is a very pitiable humanity. I say this not as a criticism, clearly the show succeeds at producing a great deal of sympathy and poignancy for its characters. The presence of the divine in the show is nearly absent. The Last Supper in both shows is not given its full doctrinal weight, but Superstar tones down the spiritual significance of it more than Godspell does. In Superstar, Jesus notices the indifference of his Apostles and says “For all you care, this could be my body that you’re eating, and my blood you’re drinking.”

Jesus and Judas both talk to God, and imply that God answers, but we are only shown one side of the conversation. When Judas commits suicide and is singing the titular number to Jesus on the cross, he does so as a disembodied spirit whom Jesus is not able to interact with. Rather than the traditional account of Jesus going down to Hades and preaching to the dead, here the dead preach to a human Jesus who is doing God’s will but may or may not be able to hear them. All in all, Webber (though obviously not himself an Antiochene by confession) is showing us a Jesus who is primarily a glorified human with a relationship to God, who is nonetheless not especially divine in his capacities, outlook or body. Where he is connected to divinity, there is a clear separation between his divinity and his humanity

B. Alexandria

(St. Cyril, famed Pope (Patriarch) and student of the Alexandrian School)

The Catechetical School of Alexandria was the other major center for Christian theological training in the early Eastern Church, located at Alexandria in Eastern Roman Egypt. It traced its lineage all the way back to St. Mark, but was most strongly influenced by the teachings of Pantaenus, Origen, St. Clement and St. Cyril (above). The Alexandrians were invested in allegorical readings of Scripture, and the use of “pagan” philosophy in the service of theology. They also emphasized the union of the divine and the human in Jesus Christ. Orthodox Alexandrians recognized that Jesus’ divinity and humanity were not consumed by each other, but they tended to suggest that Christ’s divinity and humanity were always operating simultaneously and synergistically, that it was impossible to tell exactly where one ends and the other begins. Taken to the opposite extreme of the Antiochenes, some Alexandrians embraced the heresies of Monophysitism (i) or Apollinarianism (ii). The value of this school was an investment in a polyvalent, mystical approach to Scripture, and an understanding of Christ that emphasized the saving power of God’s own divinity taking on our humanity in an immanent way.

Godspell is more invested in the ethical impact of Jesus’ life and ministry. However, it is more willing to blur the lines between the divine and human world for the sake of its message and framing of Christ. We see the Baptism of Christ on stage, and although there is no explicit depiction of the Holy Spirit or the Father, the scene is preceded by John the Baptist’s messianic song, “Prepare Ye,” and is woven in and around the song “Save the People,” a song where Jesus proclaims the coming salvation that God the Father will work in their midst for the benefit of all. This happens while the new disciples are also being baptized and receive a flower signifying their membership in the community forming organically around Christ. Jesus’ presence is charged with the eschatological promise of God being in their midst, which is a more Alexandrian reading that blurs the line between where Jesus the human ends and Jesus the divine begins.

I argue that we also see in Godspell an allusion (perhaps unintentional) to the Transfiguration. There is a scene where the stage lights are off and the disciples hold wave glow sticks around Jesus in rhythmic patterns while Jesus talks about the light within. Even if this is not an intentional reference, the visual language of the scene lends itself to the light of God being present in the midst of the people.

Before the Last Supper, Jesus sings the ballad “Beautiful City,” encouraging the disciples to continue the beloved community after his death. While it is a secularized approach in some ways, there is again that blurring of humanity and divinity where the promised city is coming, is beautiful, marked by eschatological hope, and is still “not a city of angels, but a city of man.” During the Last Supper, Jesus prays the traditional Jewish blessing over the bread and wine, and then has lines which mirror the words of institution for the Eucharist. Whether one reads it as a memorial or a sacrament, Tebelak and Schwartz choose to frame the Last Supper as an intentional institution on Jesus’ part. The table is also bathed in light and smoke, implying divine energy or grace gathered around Jesus and his disciples.

On the cross, in Jesus Christ Superstar, Jesus’ last words emphasize his human obedience to the Father: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” In Godspell, the words are less literal to the Gospel text, but they lean towards a more divine-human reading of Jesus. He says, “Oh God, I’m dying,” and the disciples respond, “Oh God, You’re dying,” with the dual meaning of expressing despair and acknowledging his divinity. Jesus’ exclamation here is also very in line with Alexandrian theology, which emphasized the idea that if Christ is truly God incarnate, then a part of God did truly die on the cross, and not just a human who represented God or who was carried through his existence by God.

Finally, though both shows are ambiguous on the Resurrection in order to place their emotional cores front and center (iii), Godspell arguably has the more explicit allusion to the Resurrection. While Superstar ends with Jesus’ death on the cross and a final overture, Godspell ends with a stirring reprise of “Prepare Ye,” intermingled with “Long Live God,” again the messianic expectation. Jesus’ body is lovingly carried by the disciples offstage. In the production I saw, they carried him upwards into the house, where a bright white spotlight was shining. Though both the Antiochenes and the Alexandrians would naturally endorse faith in the Resurrection, in a secularized context, the Alexandrian-flavored Christology of Godspell is more comfortable with depicting Jesus’ divinity infusing and breaking into the human sphere of action. As such, Godspell is more comfortable than Superstar with at least alluding to the most awe-inspiring feat of Christ the God-man, his rising from the dead.

2. Conclusions and Pointing to Pt. II

In the end, the earnestness, exuberance and eschatological hopefulness of Godspell won me over, whereas after Jesus Christ Superstar I was impressed but not moved in the same way. The interplay between grounded radical ethics, unironic joy and tenderness, and the sprinklings of luminosity and divinity in Godspell spoke to me profoundly as a queer Orthodox Christian. Watching a filmed version of the stage show, I felt a visceral sense of connection to my faith and my God, one that echoed various points along my spiritual journey where my heart “burned within me” like the disciples on the Emmaus road. Where I was surrounded by friends who were seeking Christ, and the presence of God was an animating energy of love, hope and joy in our midst. In the next part, I want to pick up the Alexandrian lens to begin to talk about what moved me about this musical in particular, drawing on my specific experiences as a queer Christian, as an Eastern Orthodox Christian, and as someone who inhabits both of those identities simultaneously.

*Adoptionism is the belief that Jesus was entirely human at his birth and that the divinity of the Son of God came and inhabited him at his baptism or later.

**Nestorianism is the belief that Jesus had a human nature and a divine nature, but that the two were entirely separate from one another, with the divine nature operating the human Jesus without experiencing any of the human things Jesus experienced directly.

***The Transfiguration is not explicitly named as such in Godspell. However, I will argue later that it does make an appearance.

(i) Monophysitism is the belief that Jesus had one nature which was an indistinct mixture of humanity and divinity. This belief is not to be confused with its orthodox Alexandrian counterpart, Miaphysitism, which is the belief that Jesus has one nature where the humanity and the divinity are united but do not dissolve into each other. The latter doctrine is the belief of the Oriental Orthodox Churches.

(ii) Apollinarianism is the belief that Jesus had a human body but a divine soul/mind.

(iii) Jesus Christ Superstar’s emotional core being the pathos of the character relationships, Godspell’s emotional core being the poignancy and ethos of the gospel and the community of disciples.

#Theology of Theater #theology of media #Godspell #Jesus Christ Superstar #queer theology #Antiochene theology #School of Antioch #Alexandrian theology #School of Alexandria #Beautiful City #Pt I #hot take #series #Eastern Orthodox #orthodox theology #eastern christian

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wonhosmistress · 4 years

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Unholy Chaos (Pt.2)

Word Count:1,214

Warnings: (TW) Suicidal thoughts

Summary: After y/n’s encounter with Michael she has been feeling hopeless and craves nothing more than death because she doesn’t believe there any reason to keep on living.

A/N: This took me two weeks to complete which I can officially say it’s a lot fast than my usual update to any drabble/story. I hope y’all enjoy it, it was fun writing this plus I decided to continue the Unholy Chaos series and make it a miniseries instead of twenty chapters or more. Also it has not been proofread because I just wanted to posted it so please be nice because my grammar is not the best but I try my hardest!

Italics - Will be thoughts

Masterlist l ←Previous chapter / Next chapter→

Weeks passed since she had encountered Michael at the Chapel feeling defeated on the bed her eyes bore directly at the ceiling in the dark filled room, she was currently in. Michael’s words kept replaying in her head “Where’s your god now?”, it made her spine chill in a way she had never felt and as much as she wanted to stop thinking about what he said to her she couldn't; it made her feel completely helpless. Who was Michael? Why did he come to the outpost? Her eyes moved directly to the end of her bed. She sat up observing around her room trying to find out if anyone sneaked their way, possibly trying to scare her but didn’t seem to notice anything out of place. As much as she was exhausted, she couldn’t manage to force herself back to sleep but she had to since she couldn’t be seen wandering around the outpost corridors by Ms. Venable and her soldiers.

After spending a long time in the bathroom, she finally walked out and headed towards the common area where everyone usually sat and talked among each other for days on end. It was the same dull routine everyday wake up, get dressed, gather in common area, eat, and “hope” to be one of the few chosen that would leave the so-called “sanctuary” with Michael but at this point it seemed like no one in this outpost actually fit the standards that Michael was looking for and everyone was even more helpless than before.

As of now she didn’t care if she lived or died because she felt like a zombie living with no reason to keep going because every single living thing was long gone, plus almost everyone that survived the nuclear bombings either body mutations or were eaten by feral cannibals outside the outpost. The reflection of the flames from the fireplace made her eyes beam. It was odd how something that once seemed calm and comforting was making her feel like nothing ever mattered.

“Dinner is served” Ms.Venable announced, knocking her cane on the floor making it echo throughout the room and loud enough to stop the indistinct voices filling the common area and making everyone face her.

Everyone’s footsteps filled the corridor as they made their way to the dining area and as soon as everyone entered, they were faced by the chaotic man himself sitting at the end of the table with his legs crossed.

Everyone looked back at Ms.Venable waiting for her to say something.

“Mr. Langdon what graces us with your appearance at dinner?” she asked, showing a displeased expression attempting to appear happy with his presence. “He looked at her and smiled like a maniac, “I’m here to join you all for dinner!” he said excitingly. “Please, sit.” He said as politely but she knew that he was far from the charm he was showing to everyone in this room and she was sure that Ms.Venable also saw +through Michael’s facade.

Everyone sat down and as soon as they did, they got served with the only once in a blue moon meal and what would be considered an everyday meal if the world wasn’t in an apocalyptic state. Everyone’s face lit up beginning to savor and take in the flavor of the meal they were given. In the early stages of the apocalypse she would be gleaming with joy at the extinct food they were “blessed” and given at the dining table but that joy had slowly faded away with each passing day they were in the outpost.

Ms.Venable sat on one side of the table and across sat Mr. Langdon, Ms.Venable scowled at him but that didn’t faze him and kept coldly staring at her. Everyone in the table kept exchanging glances between themselves because the tension in the room was intense, they all wanted to leave and eat on their own but Ms.Venable insisted that dinner was to be eaten in the dining room. “So... how’s the application process going?” asked Gallant. Michael’s gaze was broken from the sudden conversation that he wanted to know and trying to break the tension. Michael’s eyes bore into Gallant’s seeming disgruntled at the fact that Gallant was bold enough to ask such a question, when he had already been told by Michael that he wouldn’t let others know how they would be graded.

“That’s classified.” Langdon said quickly and coldly shutting down the conversation. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He was only at dinner for one reason he was trying to observe by seeing right through everyone’s façade. A simple interview would not suffice for him because he was the type of person who would prefer to see others in their natural state without them being afraid to be themselves because truth be told everyone feared Langdon. He knew why they feared him, and he didn’t blame them. He was a force not to be reckoned with because if anyone attempted, they would see the bane of their existence.

“Nice job.” Coco whispered to him annoyingly as she elbowed him. y/n attempted to ignore everyone and continued to eat because she wanted to return to her room and just avoid every obnoxious person in this outpost. Why was she even here? Who purchased a ticket to this outpost? She thought about it since day one and she was still as confused as when she got here on the first day but this time without less energy.

She wasn’t even considered to be part of the middle class back in the old life she once had. Who thought about even reserving a spot for her?

I wish I had died back on the first day of the Apocalypse. She thought to herself, maybe just maybe she would have saved herself the time, sadness, hope, and chance of going to a so-called sanctuary that Langdon claims that remains untouched with people repopulating the earth. She let out a silent melancholy sigh hoping no one would hear because once someone did they would start asking questions, if they even cared at this point everyone seems to care about themselves and if they’ll be chosen to go to the sanctuary.

Michael peered at her hoping to pick up something from her and he did. He found out how miserable she felt and how badly she wanted to die because there was no reason remain alive, she felt useless, annoyed and wanted to be let out of the outpost so she could inhale that radioactive smell that the outside has and just put her misery to an end. Michael found it intriguing how out of everyone else she truly craved death and wasn’t interested whether she was picked or not for the sanctuary he told everyone there was, it amused him how she was the only one that was questioning his authenticity and everyone else believed every word he told them when in reality there was no such thing.

This is going to be interesting. He thought to himself, he observed as she asked Ms. Venable if she could excuse herself from the table since she had finished her dinner,but she denied her and told her to sit back down and just like an obedient puppy,she did.

Tags: @lvngdvns , @sojournmichael , @thegraphitechronicles , @cocotheangelchild , @michael-langdon-appreciation , @lostin-fern , @monsucredorge , @langdonswhoreprobably , @ghostiesbedroom , @onebatch--twobatch , @antichristsxbox , @xavierplymptons , @xaviersghost , @melodylangdon, @avocodys , @dark-mei-rose

Like to be tagged? Let me know!

#michael langdon #ahs season 8 #ahs s8 #cody fern #duncan shepard #Jim Mason #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse #ahs edit #ahs meme #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fic #writing #ahs season eight #ACS #american crime story #michael langdon x reader #Thank you for reading #constructive criticism is appreciated

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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BFCD Reviews by Nesha: Grace Monroe & The Infinity Train on HBO Max

Disclaimer: Post includes spoilers and also, this viewer does not deem Infinity Train as a children's show and my views are not subjected to the idea that this is a children's show, but I do regard the characters as children.

I’m not a psychiatrist. I haven’t taken a psychology class in many years. My work with children has been primarily trauma centered children, and I haven’t worked with typical children for a decade, so most of my opinions are from my personal life experience, my work experience, my children’s rights advocacy and activism, and the guidelines from my childcare specialist work for children in the system in the state of Texas. I don’t have a lot of information these days on typical children and I don’t know the culture of children all over the country or world, but I basically know a little something about traumatized children.

And as always, be nice, because I can be mean too (and will). 😉

Special thanks to @i-am-a-passenger for listening to me and being a SOUND sounding board for my thoughts through this experience that was season 3 of Infinity Train.

To be honest, I thought that it was extremely brave of the creators to go the route that they did with the story line. Not everybody can be saved is a take that we don’t see nearly enough, and whenever we do, usually a POC, oftentimes a Black girl is on the losing end of the tale. That didn’t happen here and despite some problems with some of the way that things played out in front of us, it was STILL a monumental moment for many fans and Grace’s redemption arc was valid and reasonable, so I loved it and I live for it. Now, I’m gonna give my review of the season and what I noticed about the characters...

First off, I think that the writing of this season was phenomenal. The style of the way the story was told impressed me from start to finish. There were moments that I didn’t expect, but I understood from a writing standpoint and for the characters presented. I’m not a professional writer, but it’s been a passion since I was 7 years old, so I have some experience with passion for writing and stories and a great narrative is my WEAKNESS, and I do believe that Infinity Train provides great narratives.

This season has been my favorite thus far. I would have appreciated it for the story content, even if they had switched the characters’ arcs or went in a different direction with the redemption arc, but the fact that I was able to see an example of a Black girl being able to BE HUMAN, at my age - 38 - is still such new content that I was honestly overwhelmed by the simple fact that the creators decided that this Black girl was worthy of not only redemption, but the attention to detail and consideration was enough for me to love this season.

The girl in question: 18 year old Grace Monroe, whose been on this train for something like 7 years.

It’s rare to see a dark skinned, brown skinned, Black girl with natural hair be shown in anything but stereotypes and/or plot devices for other characters. This character has a story of her own. A beautifully written and fully realized story of a child who got confused, made bad decisions, did terrible things, learned the truth, and sought to change.

Whenever we first meet Grace and Simon, she’s announced as the leader of the Apex, and Simon is announced as her second in command and given the credentials from her, “I trust him with my life.” Something that is later a bittersweet thought as he becomes the biggest threat of her life since she got onto this train. They’re clearly very close and only seem to disagree on how they respond to negativity.

One of my favorite things about Grace was that she was given layers. One of my LEAST favorite things about Grace was that she was given unfair head canons by the fandom extremely early on (all of which nobody ever proved but remained diligently devoted to believing).

In this season, when the two are taken out of their comfort zone and traveling with outsiders, Grace and Simon are faced with lives that they haven’t thought about previously and wind up choosing very separate paths. Honestly, these paths they went on made perfect sense to me. I see both of them as traumatized children without any guidance and while one of them is very careless and reckless (Grace), the other is deliberate about what he does and has goals and plans.

The biggest influence, I think, was their interactions with denizens prior to forming the Apex. Grace admittedly never got to know any while Simon was betrayed by one whenever she left him behind to potentially die. Simon carried this rage inside of him while Grace had nothing but apathy to guide her attitude of the denizens. Grace needed attention and she was able to get that from Simon and the Apex, so she made a life built on what that gave her.

While Grace tends to seem to try to sweeten the issue or charm people. Simon is more short with others and a bit rude. They handle things much differently, though they have created a lifestyle together and formatted a society of children that they lead.

All too frequently, if a character looks like Grace, she is there as fodder for whoever her (usually white) counterparts are. But Grace has a unique situation in which she shares center stage with her white male counterpart and we watch them develop together from two peas in a pod to mortal enemies. It is a sad separation, but one that felt necessary for the direction of the story. But here’s why Grace matters so much, despite the fact that she and Simon built a child army and killed we don’t even know how many denizens:

Grace changed for the better. When both of them met and got to know a denizen, she began to change. She didn’t understand it at first and took some time to admit to herself that she was even changing. She thought that something was wrong with her because her number was going down and that wasn’t supposed to be how it was. What she thought was that it made her look weak and she didn’t want Simon or the Apex to see her that way.

And saying that Grace changed for the better is sort of shaky, too. Because Grace wasn’t a bad person to begin with. She was a child who got on the wrong track. Going from being extremely alone to having one friend to having hundreds or however many Apex kids of followers changed her for the worse, but she was a good kid at her core. She was lonely in the real world and she acted out, then wound up on this train, had a life changing event by having to see “The Conductor” and translate what happened to her as someone saving her, and she went on to help save others, or so she thought, to some degree.

Whenever she saved Simon, she had literally no reason to, other than she saw a kid in trouble and she knew she could help.She had just as little life skills and social skills as this kid in front of her, but... he was crying and she reached out to try to make him feel better, reminding him that even though life on the train was hard, he was alright now. Then, another life changing thing happened - Simon noticed that her number was higher and asked her how she got it so high. She knew just as much as him, and said that she was really good at life on the train, and the way she took that ghom out - she wasn’t completely wrong, but them being children and having only time and their limited views started a cult.

What I found interesting about this memory was the fact that Simon was telling Grace’s story for her. She tagged her charm onto it, but Simon (the writer of their laws and apparently a trilogy that not even Grace, who likes to read things wanted to read while they were besties) is telling the story to the kids. Probably embellishing, and Grace loves to be noticed, so she keeps this up until they’ve formatted an entire belief system. It was basically just I presumed whenever I questioned the reputation this fandom gave Grace as a manipulator who filled Simon’s head with hatred for denizens and Apex theology.It confirmed that people were wrong about her, which unfortunately didn’t make them change their minds, but they ain’t gotta. Grace lived and Simon died and that’s how this turns out sometimes.

I was able to at least acknowledge that his death was atrocious and it’s very unfortunate that he didn’t change for the better. He wanted control. He wanted power. He wanted to reign. Those things were more important to him than believing anything that went against his ideals. They were more important than Grace and his relationship with her. Meanwhile, Grace, up until even after he was gone cared about him. She defended herself whenever he attacked her, but she tried not to hurt him. She even tried to talk to him and he once again refused to listen. She saved his life AGAIN, and he still tried to kill her. Despite it all, when he was gone, she cried. Her friend was gone. Another life had been taken, and life meant something else to her now.

Even paper birds mattered now, and thanks to that difference inside of her, she didn’t die. But, I expected her to. Not even because it would’ve made sense or helped the story in any way, but because that’s how it usually goes for characters like her, characters who LOOK like her. The fact that it didn’t brought tears to my eyes. This season was amazing. This ending was amazing. This character was amazing. I’m so pleased with it and it was more than I expected, because instead of setting expectations, I let them tell me the story. They did an excellent job.

I've been asking people since she first appeared in season 2 why they thought that Simon was some helpless and she was this dominating figure that bossed him into this lifestyle and mostly it came back to her higher number. i didn't think we were being shown that, so I've been suspicious every time someone has suggested that Grace got Simon started in this or taught him this and now that it's been debunked, I'm even more irritated with the suggestion that her redemption doesn't make sense or wasn't right.

The thing about Simon was that he seemed fine. He seemed innocent, at times. He seemed like someone to sympathize with... What a lot of his fan base doesn't seem to realize is that is the case with every abuser. That is the case with many killers. Bad backgrounds and hard times coming up don't make for an excuse. Just because I GET his personality, doesn't mean he deserves respect or consideration. But then, we have Grace, on this other end who can't even get the recognition she earned through her decision making when she literally had the same childhood as him whenever they got there. Idk. Shit feels suspicious to me to not acknowledge Grace's redemption as well written. And the idea that Simon was doing these things for or because of Grace was proven as untrue, so there should have been a shift in her favor and there wasn't and my god that's some top shelf bullshit to me...

People frequently speak of Grace's manipulating Simon, possibly because they haven't had to try to use what you have to smooth someone over. The fact that Grace has been consoling Simon since they were children (THEY WERE CHILDREN), Because I see "Simon is a child" everyday, and always speak of his trauma, like Grace had none and like she's not the same age or near it. But, that's another thing that gets done to Black girls - they're aged up in people's prejudiced minds and expected to be more accountable than their peers. This GIRL has been repeatedly blamed for the issues of her friend.

And her "betrayal?" A lie she told to preserve life.

Simon proceeds to use her tape against her, leave her trapped inside of it (knowing it was dangerous, because the cat told him), sow lies about her in the Apex, pressure children that she knew to kill her, literally tried to beat her up and murder her, and kicks her as hard as he can after she saved his life AGAIN... He still gets more grace than Grace from the audience. I don't think people see Grace's humanity. People even assumed that her number was higher because she killed so many denizens... Like literally every wrong move doesn't affect numbers. And when faced with the story, which gives us a vulnerable Grace with flaws but also compassion, she's still been sidelined by fans of the show and nobody has given me any good reason as to why, so you already know, like we been knew. 😒

People have even tried to downgrade Simon's toxicity towards her because she led the Apex (and these people pretty much had similar things to say as people who didn't believe that my ex sexually abused me because of some examples of me being strong while arguing with him)...

THIS was triggering as fuck, but I've barely seen a PEEP about it. I'm going to presume that problematic takes of Grace are from a place of discrimination and dehumanization against another Black girl character like fandoms usually do.

But that just makes her matter more.

Good job, Grace. I knew there was good in you all along, and I didn't have to make up anything about you in my brain. ♥️♥️♥️

*Grace mourning a man that just tried to destroy her multiple times for telling a lie to keep him from killing a small child...

SPEAKING OF... The man double kicked her off that damn train in front of the kids AFTER they all saw her rescue him. Them kids might be messed up because of the Apex, but you can't tell me that Simon ain't further fuck them up with his reign. At least we know Grace was always nice to them. I'm glad they'll have each other to figure it all out.

#BFCD Reviews by Nesha #Infinity Train #Nesha Watches Infinity Train #Grace Monroe #Nesha Watches

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lady-plantagenet · 3 years

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Tumblr History Ask meme, No. 30! (An AU where George was never executed but Edward IV still dies at 40, and his sons both die of the plague or sweating sickness, leaving GEORGE to be King of England! what think you? 😆)

Hohoho ho. I have a lot of thoughts on this. Hell I even wrote an entire fictional AU series on AO3 on this topic - you can find it here (please R&R I’m desperate). So yes sorry for the late reply and I really hope you enjoy my usual bursting out in an essay (as per usual). Mwah x

Without speaking about it anymore and spoiling I’ll just answer your ask straight. Ok so George becomes king. Princes dead or not this may still cause issues because technically speaking Elizabeth of York has a stronger claim to the throne (Edward IV recognised the same in 1469 and before presenting her as his true heir presumptive not George).

While on a practical level George would easily be able to hold the throne against Elizabeth of York (who on her own did not command enough support to overthrow Richard III despite the illegitimacy rumours not really being considered as true by most), if Elizabeth married and got a son it would wreak havoc. Everytime King George fails in any way people will look at Elizabeth’s son as an alternative. Sure he could pull a King John I and keep her unmarried under house arrest until the end of her days (what happened to his niece Eleanor of Brittany) but how will he manage to do this will all 5 sisters?

There are many things to consider, for one, George was popular in London and if there was an outspread plague and he gave the princes a state burial I really think people could believe him that they were not murdered. Not to mention under these circumstances, Richard III would be the protector so the blame would fall on him anyway - pretty excellent for George id say. Hell he could even use the kid’s death as some sort of God’s divine judgment propaganda against his brother’s reign. He would need to continue denigrating Edward because his daughters (as explained above) will continue to be an issue. He would most likely continue with the ‘Edward IV was a bastard’ rumour. Otherwise, George could use the ‘by law I’m Lancaster’s heir’ as some sort of further support his reign and why he can overreach his nieces and their sons.

Another question remains ~ is Isabel dead or not? Assuming you mean this is 1483 and she dies, I am certain George would get remarried once he becomes king because while his part in the Mary of Burgundy marriage shamaz remains unclear I think what it shows is that he was more likely than not to want to remarry. This need would further increase if he became king because two young children (only one of which is a boy) is no secure line of succession. George took no decisive steps to get married to Mary upon his brother’s refusal (eg scheming for a dispensation or trying to go abroad) so I will assume that in this timeline George remains unmarried until 1483 and Mary dies in 1482 as canon. Mary (and his sister Margaret behind her) would have gained him great support in keeping the throne, England and Burgundy would have pretty much united (if Edward of Warwick died prematurely and George and Mary’s son became the next king) and England may have become the dominating European power as opposed to the Habsburg empire.

However since Mary is out of question, I can’t think of some other foreign Princess at that time that would have brought with her considerable power. George seems to have had no wish to war with France so that’s nice. I can’t say that Louis XI had great admiration for him but his place in the Picquiny committee (one of the four) implies that France trusted that he would keep the peace. George (mostly because of Warwick) was hated in Burgundy but Margaret clearly would have guided Maximilian (Mary’s real husband who took up control after she died) towards good relations with England and given Maximilian’s support of the York Pretenders in Henry VII’s reign I think he was the type of man who had no strong opinions towards any individual in England so would have been fine with it.

Anything else is difficult to say. George was described by Hicks (who is very very un-pop-history in his biography/PhD thesis of George) as a man ultimately unsuited to his role because of his temperament. His actions even before Isabel’s death do suggest something like that but the way he was after her death (Dec 1476 - May/June 1477) was just so uncharacteristically erratic and one-after-another that many people (including me) think it was him becoming unstabilised by his wife’s death as opposed to a reflection of his general fortitude and decision-making capabilities. So I ask: was it a phase he would have gotten out of by 1483 or was he permanently going to stay this way even if he did get remarried? I don’t think he was mad - certainly not, but a bit perturbed definitely and I don’t know how it would affect some aspects of his reign eg being merciful, pardoning people who’ve done him wrong, giving patronage of influence to his ministers... etc. However, if he did get out of this phase (or at least calmed down a bit by 1483) I think he could have genuinely been a good king. His role as a regional magnate shows him as generous, pious, eloquent, handsome, popular, refined, extremely knowledgeable of the law and good at peace-weaving. On a downside he also seemed inflexible in his approach, disproportionately harsh on certain penalties (eg Poaching), quick to act in certain aspects yet full of procrastinative habits in others, prideful, vengeful, susceptible to flattery, suspicious and with something suggestive of an overly superstitious personality.

Nevertheless, it is one thing to be a baron and another thing to be king. George had become quite detached from the national stage (let alone the international) towards the end of his life so he would have a lot of catching up to do. And as always is the issue with a king coming from the nobility and not the crown directly, there may be factional issues and the Neville affinity might expect certain favours and privelages from him especially since his heir Edward comes from their line. As we know, Neville support for George waned after Isabel’s death but the few that remained would expect great favour from him - this being at odds with those who were in power during Edward IV’s reign eg William Hastings, Anthony Woodville etc. After all, they really saw him as their earl (Rous speaks of him in the same terms as he spoke of his predecessors the Beauchamps).

George would inherit a country full of administrative issues and as much as I believe he was genuinely concerned with ‘the common weale’ and deserved all the praise given to him by his contemporaries, I see him falling into the same trap as Edward IV. Circumstances would likely force him to strengthen the crown’s authority and people would call him a hypocrite for this. Otherwise, he would let himself become a small centre around which others revolve but I don’t know if his pride would allow that either. Nevertheless, I think he would lead England into the ‘renaissance’ culturally. He would continue patronising the printing press, continue with the previous monarchs’ cultural endowments of colleges, churches and such (as he had done in his own lands), he would also share in Edward’s popularity with the city and trade (he gave great privileges to his burgesses says Rous, his permanent retinue had burgesses in them and many other stuff point to him respecting the place of trade) - though he wouldn’t engage in them because (as according to Hicks and others) he didn’t have a good business sense. This could go at odds against him most likely attempting to retain military retention privelages to the barons which in itself was a factor which worked against the development of a early modern state. This is the odd thing about George, in some ways he appears beyond his time and in other behind his time. All we can hope is that Warwick had tried to cultivate him a bit in national leadership and that it stayed with him.

Will he reign peacefully or get deposed? It could go either way but I am certain his reign would be filled with problems. If he gets his own Bosworth (with his niece’s sons or Henry Tudor) I think he would get romanticised as the last Plantagenet king in case of the latter because unlike Richard III he wouldn’t have nephew killing as his issue. A saving grace of George was that he was a master propagandist so I have bit of faith in his posterity and image and I think it could have made his reign flow more smoothly to a degree.

#george of clarence #don’t be shy anon #🍷❤️#lady plantagenet’s assizes #george plantagenet #george duke of clarence #the wars of the roses #the white queen

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radramblog · 3 years

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Pokemon Quartz

I have a confession to make.

I fucking love Pokemon Quartz.

Okay, context. Pokemon Quartz is an infamous Romhack of Pokemon Ruby, finished in 2006 by a young Spanish developer going by Baro. It was possibly the first completed romhack that completely replaced the entire set of the available 386 Pokemon with a set of newly designed Fakemon, and while lots of the replacements are pretty obvious analogues, there are some pretty interesting designs and the sheer effort required to do this solo as a teenager is something to behold.

(Look at Lileep, it’s a dodo now! I think its cute.)

The hack shows it age pretty well these days, with the sheer development made in GBA hacking especially in the last couple of years obviously showing it up- obviously something like Clover or Radical Red is going to make Quartz look ancient, and limitations in available tools are pretty obvious if you know where to look. The game’s region, Corna, is blatantly just Hoenn with some modified route themes, and its pretty clear that the designs for each Pokemon are limited to the replaced mon’s colour palette (as with Torido above).

(The map is kinda pretty though imo)

Quartz is infamous for a few reasons ultimately linked to the developer’s youth. For one, the dialogue tends to be a mix of poor English and weird humour and plenty of cursing, along with some jokes that don’t really fly these days. (To Baro’s credit, the writing and English does get better as the hack progresses.) The plot is utterly nonsensical as a result of shoehorning the Electric themed Band Ambar as villains into vanilla Ruby’s story, and involving the very 00s teenage idea of CHAOS vs ORDER and the pseudophilosophical musings that go along with it. Also like some of the designs are extremely ugly, to be frank. Lots of people are aware of Babos, the Skitty replacement, but that’s only really scratching the surface- the Llamayama line (aka Numel) and Berchi line (Clamperl) are pretty awful if you ask me.

(ew)

(…sis you are literally standing in a centre)

(hey can we take this from a 10 down to like a 6 or so)

I first encountered Pokemon Quartz as part of a bootleg multi-game cartridge picked up in my time living in Kuala Lumpur. The version of the hack on that cart was either very early or just broken, since none of the doors in Golden Island or the nearby Broke Cave (Dewford Island/Granite Cave) would actually let me in and therefore I couldn’t progress especially far. (I understand there was another broken ROM running around the internet that just had legendaries and Master Balls running around the first few routes, for some reason,). My trying to find a walkthrough or a fix led me to one Let’s Play of the hack by Zorak, which I suspect considering his association with fellow early LPer Chorocojo is the reason a fair few people are aware of Quartz at all. While I absolutely wouldn’t recommend reading that LP these days- its very late 00s, enjoys a certain R-word way too much, and to his credit Zorak has a comment on the archive stating that he considers it “immature and severely unfunny!”, but it was the only way for me to consume the remainder of the game at the time, having not figured out emulators at that point. I could go on for a long time about those early Lets Plays, but I’ll save that for another day.

(Oh also I’m ganking a bunch of the screenshots from that LP since my file is in endgame, cheers mate)

Okay but why do I like this game then? Well, aside from tickling my nostalgia bone something fierce, there’s a lot of cool things in the hack that make it stand out. While the lore behind the main legendary Pokemon is pretty bad and some of their designs are godawful, the Braille puzzles from Ruby have been converted into an entire original runic alphabet and is expanded to be present in the encounter events for Kaomare and Karendi (Kyogre and Jirachi). I had a lot of fun translating all of the script by hand, even if the actual text is a bit edgy. Speaking of Karendi, the game has a very JRPG style item chain sidequest to get to the encounter, which is pretty fun and something that to my recollection hasn’t been seen since. It has some little ideas in the dex that took Game Freak years to try, such as an evolving legendary (Ordkip->Tanord, replacing Latias and Latios) and the hack’s replacement for the Kanto starters having a 4th evolution (replacing the legendary beasts in the dex). The player is actually offered a second starter from the trio replacing the Johto starters late in the game at Muddy Island (Pacifidlog), which while a bit useless at that point is still something that took GF until X and Y to try. (Emerald doesn’t count imo)

(I’d translate the Cornan, but I lost my notes. Find the key yourself, cowards)

I can’t really explain beyond that why I love Quartz so much, but it’s the type of attachment that doesn’t really make sense and can’t really be explained. With that in mind, please believe me when I say never play Pokemon Quartz.

Most of the Pokemon are reskins of the original mon without changing the stats or learnset, and some of the ones that are make zero sense (As an example, the Water starter gets Aeroblast of all things, but only if you overlevel it in the second stage). The 3rd Gym leader’s ace, an overleveled Groundoe (Sandslash), has 4 ground moves, so any Flying type beats it outright, except 2 of those moves are Earthquake and Fissure, so if you don’t have a bird you are S.O.L. . The 4thleader has an absurdly overpowered ace in the form of Freech, one of the few mons to be completely overhauled, being the Milotic equivalent except its Dragon/Ice with overpowering STAB moves and Speed Boost. Basically, the game balance is completely out of whack.

Instead give a look into Pokemon Ultra Quartz (I refuse to type Let’s go Blobbos more than once). Released in 2018 by the developers for the excellent if also problematic Clover, UQ fixes just about every issue with the game’s balance, expands the encounter tables to include many of the Quartz mons that were implemented but unobtainable, and re-enables missing features such as the Battle Tower, while leaving most of the rest of the Quartz experience untouched- in this sense, I’d argue it’s the superior Quartz experience. It does still have issues- the labyrinthine route and cave design is untouched, Blobbos is here but is pretty pointless, and TM availability is as shitty as Quartz (which is the same as vanilla Ruby, but still). It does also add a few events of varying quality- Blobbos is as adorable as ever if a little pointless, the endgame developer battles are neat and decent grinding, and the postgame dungeon added is pretty sick even if the secret boss is… unique? The direct 1:1 import of the Deadly Seven from the infamous Pokemon Snakewood is both unnecessary and obnoxious, so try to keep in mind its origin when suffering through that forced segment of the game.

(My final team- Dotori, Psimouse, Rubygon, Mazalon, Oceadino, Kaosune. Or, Flying/Fighting completely overhauled Cradily, Serene Grace Gardevoir, Split evolution Vibrava, Ghost/Steel Banette, Water/Flying Swampert, and Fire/Dragon Groudon.)

It’s a good game despite this, ok? Give it a shot, experience some Romhack history but not quite as shit as it was in ’06.

Wait shit I forgot to mention how Baro put his name everywh-

#ramble #pokemon #romhack #pokemon quartz

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shyantheswiftfan · 3 years

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“evermore” song analysis part 3 (tracks 11-15)

Hello! I’ve decided to write some short analyses for the songs of “evermore”. The way I’m choosing to write these is by listing main themes of each song, giving a short paragraph about how I interpret the story and feeling of each song, then listing other Taylor songs that I think have similar themes. I might do a more in-depth lyrical analysis of some songs later on. Let me know what you think.

- Read Part 1 Here - - Read Part 2 Here -

So, let’s finish this! This is part 3 of 3. (This one is a little longer because I had a lot to say about some of the songs here.)

Track 11: cowboy like me

Main themes: unexpected love, games, soulmates

My thoughts: This is possibly the most cinematic song from the album; I can envision an entire movie from this one. This story of two people not searching for love who find each other and fall. I don’t interpret the lyrics literally for this song. I think the two lovers (being described as swindling bandits) are players or heartbreakers. People who never end up in serious relationships because they don’t like commitment, but instead they go around “stealing” good hearts because their own hearts are broken. The “rich folks” are people who are still full of love and feeling. The two lovers meet and start to fall; their pasts come up, threatening their love, but that doesn’t matter because they’ve both done things they aren’t proud of. (”the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up” … “that was all before I locked it down”) Our two lovers fall in love and end up together, leaving their old ways behind them.

Sister songs: Style, King of My Heart, Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

Track 12: long story short

Main themes: renewal, growth, moving forward

My thoughts: This is such an upbeat and happy song. Showing that Taylor has moved beyond her past and has found happiness right where she landed. The first verse and chorus are talking about where she was back around 2016, fallen from grace, knocked down by all the people trying to take her out. Her bad reputation in the public eye, falling for the wrong guy. Then we move to her reflecting on all the people who left her,(”I always felt I must look better in the rear view”) but moving on from that, dropping her guard, and finding someone to be with without everyone watching for a while. (”we live in peace, but if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready”) The bridge shows that she’s done with the feuds and trying to win the battles; she just wants to be happy with her lover. In the third verse, she gives a nice sentiment to her past self, telling her not to focus on the ones trying to hurt you because what’s important is right there.

Sister songs: Call It What You Want, Daylight, the lakes

Track 13: marjorie

Main themes: remembrance, loss, life lessons

My thoughts: As someone who has lost both of my grandmothers, this song means a lot to me. Taylor remembering the lessons her grandmother taught her. Taylor always played the part of the “good girl” early in her career, but learned to take a stand for herself and what she believes in; these lessons probably helped her with that. In the chorus, she’s reflecting on how it can feel like her grandmother is still with her. She’s still there in her dreams, the memory of her never goes away. She’s alive in Taylor’s heart. Then later in the song, Taylor sings about the times they spent together swimming and driving, and how she wishes she had asked more questions or saved more little things.(”I should've asked you how to be, asked you to write it down for me. Should've kept every grocery store receipt”) When you lose someone, there’s always that regret when you realize everything from them will be gone now. This song is a beautiful tribute, and the subtlety of putting her grandmother’s vocals in the song is so touching.

Sister songs: Ronan, Soon You’ll Get Better, epiphany

Track 14: closure

Main themes: anger, betrayal, hurt

My thoughts: This song is a direct response to someone who wronged the narrator. Someone from their past (an ex-friend or lover) who clearly hurt them in a major and public way wrote them a letter asking to be friends again and move past what happened, but it seems that it’s only for the ex’s own selfish reasons.(”It wasn't right … Looks like you know that now” and ”I'm just a wrinkle in your new life, staying friends would iron it out so nice”) The narrator is telling this person that they hurt them too badly, and that they aren’t accepting their “closure” because they know it isn’t sincere. (”Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled” and “it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary”) I’ve been in this situation before, and sometimes you have to say “no” to someone to protect yourself from being hurt again, because you know they will.

Similar songs: You’re Not Sorry, This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, my tears ricochet

Track 15: evermore

Main themes: depression, healing, hope

My thoughts: This is a deeply honest song about the feeling of being in such a deep depressive state and it seeming like it will never end, but then coming out of it and finding hope again. It starts with the narrator thinking about how long they’ve been in this place and not knowing what caused it, but they’re trying to figure it all out. (”I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong”) The first chorus describes the hopeless feeling, just staring out at nothing thinking that this is how you’ll always feel until death. The second verse the narrator is feeling detached and losing hope completely. They are trying to remember when they were happy, yet they can’t remember that feeling anymore. (”I rewind thе tape but all it does is pause on thе very moment all was lost”) The bridge brings us to the reflection stage, thinking of everything the narrator is missing out on and just begging for some hope, and then finding it in “you”, whoever that may be for them. (”the things that will be lost. Oh, can we just get a pause to be certain, we'll be tall again?” and “I dreamed of you. It was real enough to get me through”) Then, in the last moments of the song, they find the hope again to know that they will get through this. “This pain wouldn't be for evermore.”

Sister songs: Tied Together With a Smile, Innocent, Safe & Sound

Thanks for reading! If you haven’t read the first two parts, I would super love if you took the time to check them out as well. They are linked at the beginning of this post. <3

#taylor swift #evermore #cowboy like me #long story short #marjorie #closure #song analysis

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queenharumiura · 3 years

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(When you casually remember you have another KHR blog that you can connect timelines with for the luls. This tiny brain rot hasn't left me so I thought to write a small thing for it. Readmore bc i'm shy.)

@belacedia

With a small bird perched on her shoulder, Haru was led down the long halls by Kusakabe, who was quite used to escorting her to and fro on the behest of Hibari Kyouya, the Cloud Guardian of the Vongola.

Haru was showed into a room where Hibari was already sipping a warm cup of tea at. It never ceased to amaze her how this room in particular was filled to the brim with Japanese aesthetic. A traditional room fitting for a man who was somewhat old-fashioned.

She didn’t know what exactly she was called in here for, but she didn’t feel unnerved by his presence. Over the years, the two would interact with each other at random and one could say they’ve formed something akin to a friendship. At least, that was how Haru saw it.

Don’t get her wrong, it took an incredibly long amount of time to reach a stage where the two could enjoy a cup of tea together as Haru would speak on random inanities. The little bird, who Haru dubbed ‘Mi-chan,’ flew towards Hibari, perching on his outstretched finger. “Miura.” He greets her calmly.

“Hibari-san.” She greets back as she simply approaches, sitting down at the table where a cup of tea was already poured for her. “Can I ask why you’ve sent Mi-chan to me today?” Not bothering to waste time with the pleasantries, she cut right to the chase.

The warmth of the teacup felt comforting as her nerves were wound tight in anticipation. While there were many yellow feathered ‘minions’ under Hibari’s command, there was one in particular that Haru often interacted with, and it was due to the fact that Haru had found it injured one day and nursed it back to health before returning it to Hibari’s side.

Having grown attached to Haru, Hibari deemed it useful to allow this one lone bird to serve as a liaison between Haru and himself. It was quite rare when the bird that Haru has affectionately named ‘Mi-chan’ was used for any business other than spoiling the bird with treats, so being summoned the way she had today had Haru feeling nervous.

“A couple birds have reported something interesting. A certain Prince has been visiting you frequently.”

Haru almost dropped her tea in shock, but she managed to keep the cup in her hands by fumbling. She wasn't expecting to be having this conversation with Hibari of all people. “Hahi? They told you about that? Well- it’s not wrong…” She awkwardly fiddled with the cup in her hands. “… He’s been visiting me often.” At a certain point, she’d dare say he was just terrorizing her by getting on her nerves, but at large, it was mostly harmless.

She did ponder on this fact in her downtime, but it did seem like Belphegor’s frequent visits didn't go completely unnoticed. So far, it seemed that only Hibari knew about it (Or rather he was the only one to outright confront her about it).

Eyebrows raised in surprise, “You called me here just for that?” Her tone was incredulous as he never involved himself in her business as it wasn’t his place to do so. The two would talk on occasion and it was merely due to the fact that Haru put forth the effort to try to get along with all of the guardians, and that included Hibari. It was accurate to say that the both of them had come to a common agreement to simply accept each other’s existence and not bother the other.

It helped that Haru got along with the yellow avians, often looking after them if they wanted to rest after a long day of hard work. It only took one of the avians to speak well of her for the rest to understand that she was a ‘good person who can serve as a secondary food source.’

Not one to owe others favors, Hibari willingly associated with her on occasion. Luckily, Haru never asked too much of him, so they could interact with each other in peace. “What is he planning to do in Namimori that involves your cooperation?” His teacup now empty, she had his entire attention. Obviously, this conversation would not budge from this topic.

She blinks a few times before she chuckles quietly. “I don’t think anyone has plans to harm Namimori, Hibari-san. I understand the concern, but he can be agreeable if you’re willing to meet him halfway. He certainly is very lacking in sociability, but he’s doing his best… I think. Even though his reputation is what it is, he is able to be civil, so I don’t think you need to be concerned about his casual visits.” She has absolutely no intention of stating that Belphegor wouldn’t destroy Namimori if a mission was involved.

“You have a positive opinion of him.” Hibari notes, his piercing gaze picking every small movement of hers down as his mind then collates everything together to form a coherent but unorthodox thought. “Don’t get played.” A pointed comment that both would be able to understand.

Of course, he was referring to a certain 10th generation mafia boss. “Tsuna-san didn’t play around with me.” Haru hisses, instantly going on the defensive. Being played would suggest that he even looked in her direction to begin with—which he didn’t. Just like the lightning comes and goes with a sudden flash, her temper could leave as quickly as it came. “I don't think Bel is playing around with me. I feel he's being sincere. At the very least, he doesn’t force any expectations on me. He respects my ambitions more than some others we know, and I appreciate that. He’s surprisingly--- likable at times. Would I be stupid for thinking about him?” Who knew there'd come a day when Haru speaks about relationships with the Hibari Kyouya?

The matter of relationships and feelings were foreign ground for the likes of Hibari, who much preferred to keep to himself, save for those he approves of. Just as she didn’t interfere with his business, he wouldn’t interfere with hers. If she could objectively deduce that she trusted the destructive Prince, that was her choice to make.

Surely, she wouldn’t continue the mistake of falling for yet another person who wouldn’t look her way. Then again, perhaps that wouldn’t be an issue, if Belphegor’s frequent visits were of any indication. It was also true to say that he hadn't received any reports of any significant property damage in Namimori immediately following Belphegor's casual visits, so it may be beneficial to relax his guard on the matter.

Steel cold eyes glanced at the woman across the table, noting the indecisive sheen in her eyes. The normally ambitious and self-assured woman had moments of hesitation, it seems. “It’s your choice to make. Don’t belittle yourself. Any damage to Namimori and it’s people will be met with force.”

"With force!" The yellow bird chimes in randomly, flapping its wings energetically.

A small smile graces Haru’s features as she read between the lines, “Haru is being made into a convenient excuse for a fight, hm? At least give me a chance to fight for myself first.” In other words, should anything go wrong, the best person to have as an ally in Namimori was Hibari himself. There were some benefits to trying to befriend the guardians, wouldn’t you know?

It was only a matter of time before others learned about what was going on, so it would be beneficial for all parties involved for her to make her decision quickly, lest she be bothered by a couple of worried nagging guys.

“I told you all this in confidence, you know? Of course, you wouldn’t go blabbing, right?”

“Your private life is of no business to the rest.” Living life without an annoying pest worrying about inanities was a day well spent, after all.

“Hibari-san understands well.”

She thought it was a bit early to be considering anything in seriousness, but it never hurt to cover your bases. The moment Gokudera or Tsuna heard about Belphegor’s frequent visits, her life was going to be rife with annoyances. Hibari wouldn’t alert the others to what he’s noticed and he may feel it necessary to ensure the others are kept in the dark for the sake of peace and quiet.

The moment Tsunayoshi’s worries trickle down the ranks of the Vongola, Namimori’s peace would surely take the fall. Barring a Prince from doing whatever he wished to do? That reeked of property damage.

Really, it was nice having someone like him as a ‘friend’, sometimes. “Since I’m here, let me tell you about a recipe I’ve thought up recently. I think the birds would love it. It would be tasty and healthy for them.”

"Hm. Give the recipe to Kusakabe."

“Roger that.”

#Belacedia #Neo Drabble #((Guest muse: Hibari))#((The setting for this in my mind would be after the bazooka thread and before the time Bel breaks into her apartment))#((This brain rot hasn't left the since the day I thought about it and it's high time for me to do something about it))#((Now I can let this thought rest))

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day Two: Contempt ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

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It’s funny how being different is typically such a crime...unless that difference makes you useful.

Since a young age, Hinata has known that the world would treat her unkindly for what she is. That her abilities beyond that of a typical human would see her cast aside, glowered at from behind window panes, and shunned from any social gatherings.

...except those that required her abilities.

Those like her vary widely. From power over elements to gifts like her own that give sight into the future, witches - known all over the world by other names in other tongues - have been at odds with humanity since the two sides were first introduced. And as long as humans remain so stubborn and ignorant, the odds of finding a peaceful middle ground are slim.

But despite all that, Hinata has done her best to settle in, growing familiar with the people of her village and their needs. Though not skilled in their magic, her love for plants sees a decent business in selling flowers or herbs. But what most come to see her for - hooded and cloaked to avoid being spied by their neighbors - are her visions.

For like her mother before her, Hinata’s eyes can see beyond what lies before them, discerning flickers and moments that have yet to pass. And while many are more than willing to scorn her for it...just as many are eager to use it when it pleases them. Even the leader of their little town has stopped by once or twice. It’s Hinata he has to thank for the wife he found with her help.

But that doesn’t encourage him to help defend her with his influence over the people.

Some would think it only fair for Hinata to meet their contempt with her own. But it’s simply never been in her nature. She can’t blame them for their fear, as birthed in superstition as it is.

After all...she isn’t the only thing they have to fear...nor she they.

For there is a third world at play in their lives. One Hinata has rarely had to venture into, despite being the so-called twilight between their darkness and the sunlight of humanity. By whatever grace, those who call themselves the Nightwalkers have steered clear of her and her little town.

But no peace lasts forever.

“Miss Hyūga! Miss Hyūgaaa!”

Startling in her sitting room, Hinata abandons her sewing to meet a small group of people at the door. Carried haphazardly by several of them is a man...and painting his pale form is a worrying amount of blood.

“He’s been attacked! One’a the lord’s sons! By a monster!”

That gets her eyes to widen. “...set him here,” she directs, sweeping clutter from her table.

His garments are torn, and immediately she can’t help a grimace. There’s a terrible bite wound to his throat, which seems to be where most of the blood is coming from. If this is what she thinks it is…

“I need space to work,” is her quiet command, glad her reputation at least means they fear her enough to do as she says. Cleaned rags are gathered, water set to boil over her hearth. Clearing the wound of blood and debris, her eyes flicker between it and the pale planes of his face. If she had to guess, this is a vampire bite.

But that alone doesn’t seal his fate. Even if he was bitten...the monster’s infection could only take hold if they were in a frenzied state, pushed to their limits resorting to their basest form and instincts. He has a chance: he might still be human.

So, for now, she urges the others to leave so she can work uninterrupted. “I’ll send word when he wakes. Until then, I must tend to him, and quickly.”

Worried faces eventually turn and leave the way they came. Left in silence, Hinata begins doing her best to treat the bite. A brief friendship at a crossroads with a healer means she at least should be able to do this much...but much else will be beyond her skillset.

And if he is infected...she’s going to have quite the problem to deal with in a few days.

But for now she focuses solely on her task. Carefully dabbing a poultice into the punctures, she then wraps the bite in clean linen, boiled and dried.

All the while, he barely stirs, eyes closed and sunken in pain. Hinata glances to him often, but there’s little to glean.

Not yet.

Once he’s cleaned and bandaged, she manages to drag him to a nearby settee, a bed too far to reach. Not as comfortable, but better than the table.

For now...all she can do is wait.

Gently, fingers lift his eyelids. Beneath are dark irises, pupils contracting in the light. But at this stage, it’s too early to tell either way.

He’s left to rest, her evening passed by cleaning up the lingering mess of soiled cloth and blood on her table. Taking a light supper, she watches him occasionally twitch, groaning and sweating.

...this isn’t looking good. But there’s nothing she can do...a frenzied Nightwalker’s bite means only one of two things: death...or change.

And the latter is considerably worse in almost every way.

With little else she can do for him, Hinata turns in for the night, the typical sounds of her yard in the dark accompanied by his ragged breathing and occasional whimper.

Needless to say, she sleeps very little.

And come morning, her fears are confirmed. Lifting his lids, her heart sinks at the sight of flickering crimson irises.

He’s Turning.

Retreating, she braces a hand at her lips, unsure what to do. Once his transformation is complete, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with, with new abilities and instincts he’ll have nearly no control over. A danger to himself, and to others...not to mention a monster in their eyes. Even his family is sure to fear and hate him, now.

There’s little room for pity in their hearts when it comes to those beyond their specie.

The merciful thing would be to kill him now while he’s defenseless, and tell the others the wound claimed him.

...and yet…

Looking back, she can’t help but feel revulsion at the idea. Taking a life...she’s never done so before, though she’s been told more than once to prepare herself for the inevitable. Is it truly right to kill him? Does the pain he’ll feel really outweigh any possible good?

...she can’t.

Instead, she digs through a chest in her bedroom, fetching chains she never thought she’d have need for: forged in silver. Just...something to subdue him until she can help him make sense of all this. Carefully, she fastens them from the main beam of her home to each of his limbs and around his torso, sat up against the wood as he suffers through the changes wrought upon him.

...that’s all she can do. She knows no one else capable within traveling distance before he wakes.

She’s on her own.

For another day, and another night, he remains barely conscious, slumped over save for where the chains bind him. Every so often, Hinata carefully guides water between his lips, glad to see him drink. And when she goes to check the bite along his throat...she finds it already healed.

It’s when the sun sets on the third day that something changes. Mending a torn apron, Hinata stills as the sound of ragged breathing ceases. In its place, a groan, followed by murmured nonsense.

...he’s awake.

Setting aside her task, she moves slowly to stand in front of him. His breathing is still labored, but quiet, form leaned back in exhaustion against the beam. Eyes are closed...but snap open as her floor creaks.

She stills.

For a moment, the eyes are dark...but instinct - fresh in his veins - sees them flash a bright, tantalizing red. But he doesn’t struggle, just...stares.

“...you’re Sasuke, aren’t you?” Hinata asks, tone soft to avoid riling him. “Son of the county’s lord Fugaku Uchiha?”

No reply, still staring.

“...you were attacked three day ago. Something...bit you. Do you remember…?”

Breaking his gaze, he glances aside, clearly trying to think. “...it’s all so...foggy…”

“Given what you’ve been through, that’s understandable. You see, sir...when you were bitten, it…”

Realization seems to dawn on him. For a moment, his face slackens in shock...and then wilts with somber understanding. “...am I...no longer human…?”

So, he knows. Her own form softening, she can’t lie to him. “...no. No, you are not. If what I know is enough to reason with, then...I believe you’ve become a...a vampire.”

“...a monster…”

“...do you feel like a monster…?”

That lifts his gaze back to her face. “...I feel like...myself. But...strange.”

“Humans can be monstrous, too,” Hinata murmurs. “It is our actions that m-mark us as what we truly are. This...affliction does not define you, sir.”

“Sadly, no one else will see it that way.” His head leans back against the beam with a dull thunk, eyes closing. “...kill me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it...it goes against my nature. I’ll not harm you. Not unless...you give me a reason.”

“Is being as I am not reason enough?”

“No.”

The blunt reply clearly takes him aback. “...I am a nightmare. A threat that lurks in shadows. No matter where I go, contempt will follow me. Forever shunned by those I once called kin. All at the hands of another monster…”

“You still have a choice.”

Unfortunately...it’s then a knock pounds against her door.

It seems the others tire of waiting for news.

Turning to the sound, Hinata gasps at the sound of crunching wood. By the time she about-faces, he’s already free, the bottom of the beam splintered and the chains pooled at his feet.

“...I can’t stay here...I can’t -!”

“Sasuke, wait -!” Reaching out, she manages to lay a hand along his arm.

And in place of what she sees, she’s granted another vision. A wood-shrouded cottage, a gravel path, and a woman smiling in the doorway. She looks like -?

The contact is then broken, and Hinata flinches at the shattering of glass just as the door swings open.

Behind her, the crowd of humans gawk, torn between staring at the window and the beam. “...w...where’s the lord’s son?”

Staring through the broken panes, Hinata swallows dryly, only able to answer, “...gone.”

But she knows she’ll see him again.

Her visions never lie.

Day two! And done in much better time that this morning last night! I have a nasty habit of writing at very peculiar hours, but I’ll try to get these done in better time so they aren’t buried lol This time we’re going with my original monster verse, Of Monsters and Men! I actually have an (incomplete) mini series of sorts from the year-long challenge with this universe. It IS still on my list of things to make a proper fic out of, I just...completely underestimated how dreadful 2020 would be, so a lot of what I’ve wanted to do just...hasn’t gotten done OTL BUT! Someday, lol This is more of an older setting, though I didn’t have an exact date in mind. And in all honesty it feels a bit rushed, a concept I’d do better with with more time and larger word count, but to avoid burnout I’m trying to keep these short. But if a prompt allows, I might do another part! I won’t be tying any of THESE drabbles to any previous events, but I’m not against things within THIS event being connected lol Anywho, that’s all for today’s! Got other things to do tonight so I better skedaddle, but I hope you enjoyed! ALSO, I’ll be doing comment reply posts at the end of each week to avoid clog, so I’m not ignoring any replies! I’ll do a post every seven days (tho the last I’ll just wait until the 31st). Until then I’m always thrilled to hear from you guys! <3

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #blood //#of monsters and men [ au ]

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years

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I recently saw a heavy criticism of The Beach saying "it's the single least realistic portrayal of teenagers on television: spoiled, rich kids don't actively shun Zuko for having a disfiguring scar on his face, no one tries to start shit with Azula over the volleyball game, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers, a teen boy tells people not to make a mess, a bunch of 14-16 year-olds sit in a circle and psychoanalyze each other, everything else about the campfire scene." Your thoughts?

:’) that someone looks at the Beach and dismisses it for being “unrealistic” by whatever their cultural standards are is probably enough of a sign of the irrelevance of said person’s opinion. I mean, obviously they’re free to think what they will, but...

Fire Nation society is not American society. I’m going blind here, maybe this person isn’t American at all, but somehow I mostly see such kinds of narrow-minded criticism from first-worlders who are seldom exposed to lifestyles outside their particular, contemporary bubble of experiences.

Now then, let’s get into the actual debate: Fire Nation society values violence quite a lot. Fire Nation society is full of people who saw Zuko’s literal Agni Kai burning scene, and didn’t look away: the only character who does is Iroh, a very obvious hint by the writers that Iroh has discarded the cruel moral values the rest of the Fire Nation upholds.

With this in mind, a boy with a scarred face might earn all sorts of “ews” from our societies, damn right. From Fire Nation society, though? If even watching how the burn is inflicted didn’t bother most of them, why would the result be a problem? If anything, I wouldn’t be surprised if people with burn scars are even seen more attractive because it implies they were caught in violent scuffles with fire and still survived? Of course, the argument might go that Zuko’s burn is meant to be a mark of shame... but it’s a mark of shame for PRINCE Zuko. For that mysterious boy with the emo haircut in Ember Island, whose real identity is a mystery? It is shown, instead, to result in this reaction:

Now then, we could say that this is meant to be a jab by the creators and writers at Zuko’s hordes of fangirls, because frankly, Book 3 has several instances of groups of girls swooning over Zuko and it might be what they were going for. In this case, though, they’re swooning over him WITHOUT knowing who he is, as opposed to the fangirls in Nightmares and Daydreams. So, while it absolutely can be inspired on the many Zuko fangirls the staff knew about, this actually ends up serving to characterize a society, a culture: they don’t think his scar makes him unattractive. It’s blatantly stated that their reaction is the opposite. So, instead of thinking “oh god that’s so unrealistic”, how about we actually stop trying to measure everything by our standards and consider that this could be an element of WORLDBUILDING...? :’)

(Also, I’m pretty sure there’s a fair share of privileged young women in our current society who think Kylo Ren was hot as hell with a huge scar across his face... are those people not real, by any chance? :’D If anything, they’re living proof that girls swooning over a scarred boy in ATLA are absolutely feasible, no matter if not everyone shares their opinion)

Continues under the cut becasue this got long....

Now then, Azula is shown to take the Kuai ball game too far. She outright causes the ball, in the final kick, to burst into flames and burns the net. Going by Chan and Ruon Jian, these kids are privileged idiots, why lie... but are these privileged idiots stupid enough to see a girl flying three feet into the air, kicking a firebent ball and then giving a foreboding speech, and say “OKAY WE’RE GONNA PICK A FIGHT WITH YOU FOR BEING SO COMPETITIVE!”???? I mean... honestly. Why would anyone do this? Azula turned an inoffensive Kuai ball game into a battlefield singlehandedly: THIS, as well, is meant to be a display of characterization. That people don’t take the game so seriously, that they wouldn’t pick a fight with her because she’s dangerous or because they just don’t care as much as she does... it’s characterizing Fire Nation people every bit as much as it characterizes Azula.

Azula and Zuko are both shown reacting in ridiculous ways to casual things in this episode: Azula takes the game too far, potentially stages the burning down of a house in retaliation for being rejected by a boy, Zuko is hysterical and jealous and snaps at Mai over stupid things... it’s, again, a matter of showing how poorly adjusted these characters are. They’re not normal kids. They DON’T behave like normal kids. Normal, privileged kids in the Fire Nation, are kids like Chan and Ruon Jian. The episode literally gives you the chance to see Fire Nation society for what it is, in a way no other episode does... and because it’s not like our societies, it’s somehow wrong?

... Also, teenagers referring to themselves as teenagers is somehow unrealistic? I mean... is it nowadays? I don’t think any teenagers had a problem with saying they were teens in my youth :’DDD literally remember MCR released a song called Teenagers and a lot of us loved it to pieces. What exactly is so outrageous about it? Might be that this worked better in the mid-00′s, but I hardly think this makes no sense? Aang refers to himself as a kid earlier in the show, is that unrealistic too and worth rebuking a whole episode over? Are all teenagers supposed to be pretending to be grown-ups, like so many 16-year-olds on Tumblr who always talk like they’ve figured out the world and try to impose rules on fully-grown adults upon whom they have absolutely no power? :’DDDDD Yeah, I think this particular point is a stupid thing to make a fuss over. Honestly, it is.

Chan tells people not to make a mess = unrealistic. Ha. Did this person ignore his reactions at the chaos Azula, Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee caused in his house? “YOU BROKE MY NANA’S VASE!!!”, anyone? Like... I’m sorry, but this IS characterization, yet again! This shows Chan is a spoiled brat who wants to stay in his family’s good graces. The party isn’t at all as crazy and wild as you’d expect from, again, an American teenage party... and why? Because, for one thing, Chan is clearly afraid of the consequences of too much chaos in the beach house: this implies fear of authority, of his parents, perhaps even his grandparents.

For another, again, FIRE NATION SOCIETY: what does this clever critic know, by any chance, of Nazi Germany’s Hitler Youth? I’ve watched a few documentaries about it, and basically if you were a boy and you weren’t in Hitler Youth, you were no one. You were worthless. And what happened in Hitler Youth? Conditioning to the extreme. These kids were taught all the alt-right ideology that Tumblr despises, and they were made to believe it was an undeniable reality. Were there cases of kids who didn’t like it, kids who didn’t approve of it? Surely. But the general idea of Hitler Youth was to educate every kid to behave in the way Hitler considered appropriate, to the point where “the notion "Germany must live" even if they (members of the HJ) had to die was "hammered" into them.”

This is, of course, an extreme example and I’m sure Fire Nation education wasn’t that extreme because we saw it for ourselves, it’s not. But a slightly milder version of it? That’s absolutely feasible and consistent with what we see in The Headband. Therefore, kids getting high and drunk at a party? Maybe that kind of thing simply DOESN’T happen in a Fire Nation party? :’) Maybe they’re taught that those kinds of things are off-limits to anyone under a certain age (or outright forbidden, might be the case with drugs), and as they live in a tyrannical society that priorizes the Fire Lord and his decrees above all else, where his word is treated as that of a god, even mischievous teenagers refuse to act out? :’D oh, what an implausible concept, this just can’t possibly make any sense! Hitler Youth is unrealistic too!

Lastly, that a bunch of kids would sit in a circle psychoanalyzing each other seems implausible to this person is actually laughable for me. Not only have I constantly found myself, from my early teenage years to current days, serving as some sort of unofficial therapist for many of my friends, who share their woes and ask me for advice (whether they’ll heed it or not), most importantly, I once had an experience with a friend, back in high school, much like what happens with these kids in The Beach, after I’d spent years doing a lot of post-depression introspection. I shared a lot of stuff I didn’t often talk about, and beats me WHY I felt completely comfortable sharing it with my friend that day, but I did. She understood me, listened, offered her opinion, and we talked about her problems too. This happened when I was 15-16. If this person has never experienced such situation... why, that’s not anyone’s business. But it’s certainly not their business to determine this just DOESN’T happen, to anyone, ever. I can safely say it does, to people who do have problems and who sometimes just need a friendly shoulder to rely on. Maybe this critic’s life is just so perfect they’ve never had to share their woes with anyone else :’) I’m afraid that doesn’t invalidate those of us who are different, and it doesn’t invalidate the possibility that those four could talk, as they did, without breaking characterization, in the scene of the fireplace at the beach.

ANYWAYS...

Saying that a show about a group of kids who save the world and then effectively become leaders of such world, facing very little opposition in the process, is unrealistic because “teenagers aren’t like that becuase I wasn’t like that as a teenager” may be one of the most ridiculous and shortsighted things I’ve seen in this fandom, AND I’VE SEEN A LOT OF RIDICULOUS AND SHORTSIGHTED THINGS. A person’s experiences are NOT universal, regardless of how widespread their culture may be. More importantly, fiction does NOT have to abide by rules established by our current society’s state and cultural values. ATLA, as it is, is a completely different world from our own, regardless of its inspiration in many Asian cultures.

I, personally, find it a lot more unrealistic that Fire Lord Zuko can become Fire Lord without much in the way of visible protesting or boycotting when he was a banished prince who didn’t even win in his Agni Kai against Azula since it’s Katara who ends up defeating her and, as far as the rules go, Azula technically won even if not in the most dignified of ways. I find it even more unrealistic that LOK tells us Zuko was Fire Lord successfully for 70+ years and the Fire Nation has been fully reformed into a non-warmongering country despite the 100+ years of indoctrination started by Sozin’s rule. That this gets swept under a rug, not only in the neatly wrapped finale that leaves a thousand unanswered questions, but in the sequel show that merely confirms Zuko succeeded and shows NOTHING of how he managed to reform such a fucked up society...? That is a thousand times more important to me than “privileged kids aren’t acting like privileged kids OMG!”. Honestly, you want privileged kids abusing all their privileges in our society? Go watch Gossip Girl, I genuinely recommend it. You want something that proposes a completely different possibility and a glance at what a society guided by a tyrannical dictator looks like? Feel free to watch The Beach again with a completely different focus and MAYBE you’ll understand what the writers were going for.

If this person happens to see my answer, I hope they learn that worldbuilding, for a storyteller, entails CREATING a world that isn’t necessarily like the one we’re familiar with. There are multiple layers to such a world, and society and culture are some of them. Not all cultures and societies work the same way, which is part of why sometimes you’ll find behaviors from people who belong to wholly different cultures and wind up perplexed because whatever they’re doing is completely unfamiliar for you. Are there any universal behaviors in humans? Maybe! But in a work of FICTION, even the most universal of behaviors can be changed, deleted, altered however the writer sees fit! :’D it’s not a novel concept, and as far as logical fallacies are concerned, this show features a whole slew of those that have nothing to do with this peculiar sense of “realism”, fallacies that absolutely can and should be called out. Namely, things that contradict the internal logic of the show, rather than things that are incompatible with OUR world. Portraying a world that’s very different from ours, on virtually every level you can think of? That’s called creativity, not lack of realism. Please learn the difference.

#anon #... excuse me #but I got really unnerved by this one #just wtf #if this is supposed to be some sort of important critic #rather than a random someone on Tumblr #please don't ever watch anything they do ever again #realism ffs #BELIEVABILITY and realism are not the same damn thing #and solid worldbuilding requires the former not the latter #god I'll just #go chill #why #just why

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pookapics · 5 years

Text

Way down to Hadestown - MafiaBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader

The 1930's has its own challenges for a young singer like (YN) but when she finds her lover with another girl, she has no choice but to hustle to get the money to get the hell out of dodge. But what happens when a mysterious blue eyed strangers enters the club she sings at and gives her a ticket out of this place. Will she take the offer, especially after she realises that the offer is coming from Steve Rogers, Leader of the Avengers Mob and the 'King of New York'? She's desperate and heavily drawn into Steve's charms but will she go? And is there a catch in this chance for freedom?

Warnings : Mafia!SteveRogers, Mobsters, Heartbreak, Cheating, Eventual romance, Sexual innuendo, Age-Gap (Reader is 21 and Steve is 30 so 9 year difference), Hints of violence

Masterlist - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189126314108/way-down-to-hadestown-masterlist-mobbosssteve

Next Chapter - https://protectthelesbians.tumblr.com/post/189109817228/way-down-to-hadestown-mobbosssteve-rogers-x

Chapter 1 : Hey Little Songbird

New York, 1933 - Wintertime

Your POV

Smoke wafted in your face as you entered the club you worked at, your tattered brown coat wrapped around you tightly as your shoes stuck to the sticky floors of the club where drinks had been dropped numerous times, stains upon the floor. Times were tough, simply not enough money for anything.

Living off scraps from the club like a stray dog.

Empty promises raised their nasty heads as you entered the dressing-room round the back. The empty promises that once escaped your high-school sweetheart’s lips. Promises of a better home, better food and the wedding you always dreamed of. But he was a singer, singers like him liked to butter up a girl until they got bored or famous.

Both happened to you and your lover.

The sweet harmonies the two of you once sang together long forgotten . What remains now is a cold bed, an empty stomach and having to witness your boyfriend sleeping with some other girl.

The sweet puppy love was gone, it was now tarnished and unable to return to what it once was. Tears began to form in the corner of your eyes as you saw Wanda, your long-term friend and colleague. You pushed them back as you saw her open her arms for you, last night when you found out about your boyfriend and his little thing on the side you’d called Wanda from a payphone near the affluent bar your ex worked at, Wanda was working at the time but rushed to the phone when she heard the bouncer calling her over about how you were crying and needing Wanda. You knew that the whole club knew what happened but you in your tearful state the night before could not stop yourself from crumbling down as soon as the Bouncer answered the phone. Wanda’s voices pulled you back from reflecting on what happened just the night before

“That scumbag will get what’s coming to him! I promise!” her accent thickened as her rage increased, you giggled weakly and smiled slightly “Thanks Wan, I’m just going to work my ass off for those tips and save to get my own place.” You couldn’t stay at your shared apartment anymore, too many memories that would make you crumble.

He cheated on you, there is truly no going back from that betrayal. He pushed you away for his fame and career and slept with another girl. You couldn’t stay with a man who broke your heart in two ways. He was one of those faux-rich kind of men, ass-licking the big dogs in the most luxurious spots in town, enjoying the high-life. Meanwhile, you’re stuck singing in a sleazy club for a few dollars here and there.

He abandoned you, and you wanted out.

Reaching for the clothes rack in the dressing-room,you picked up a long white dress which trickled to the floor elegantly. The fabric was silky and ornate in its intricate design details, this dress was a hang-me-down from the previous girl who worked here before you, a girl called Birdie if you remembered correctly. Going behind the changing-screen, you slid the dress on, it accentuated your figure in all the right places. With a glance to the mirror, you smiled, the dress made you look heavenly in aura, graceful like a swan in flight. Over at the vanity, you picked up a handful of bobby-pins to slide into your hair, smoothing down the frizz and stray hairs which you tamed with a waft of your finger. The final touch was the lipstick, a splatter of red tinged your lips, it was a deep red which complimented your skin tone divinely, the one luxury you bought for yourself in this troubling time of economics.

You were ready to start your set of songs, before that you decided to peek through the red curtains of the stage to see if any patrons were sat at the booths, you usually took requests from them for an extra dollar or two, made sure you came home with a heftier amount of cash than if you didn’t. It was early in the day for the club so it was quite barren, bar the boss, Big Louis and his gaggle of goons who smoked close to the bar as Pietro, Wanda’s twin mixed drinks quicker than it took to neck a shot.

But that’s when you noticed in the corner of your eye that one booth was taken, one booth which held one man on his own. A man you’d never seen before round the club. He sat on his lonesome with a glass of whiskey in hand, staring deeply into it. You had to admit that this man was beyond attractive, he oozed a sense of power and control and as if the whole bar and everyone in it was at his command, that power made you subconsciously bite the corner of your lip out of nerves and out of another emotion you couldn’t pin-point exactly. His suit was perfectly pinched and altered to fit the man’s form which was built like a god, like one of those Greek god statues you’d seen in a Museum of history once.

You pulled back slowly from the curtains, cheeks tinted a faint shade of pink which you’d just put down to the rouge you applied to your cheeks. Mentally, you prepared to head out there just when Ricky, one of Big Louis’ goons turned the corner and squawked “Oi! The Boss wants ya!” you turned to face him “But I’m about to start my se-” you were rudely interrupted by him “The Boss wants you now!” he snapped and insisted, you sighed and walked round back to get to the bar, not wanting to face the stranger in that lone booth just yet.

“You needed me, Sir?” you spoke shyly, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress, watching as Big Louis turned around, cigar in one hand and a drink in the other “Yeah Toots, I was hopin’ you could entertain our ‘guest’ up front?” he asked which made you frown “Just him?” you could see Big Louis visibly gulp as he glanced to the stranger’s booth “Yes. Just him. Do whatever he asks. I’ll pay you double hey triple! IF you do this for me. A small favour really!” There was a flash of desperation in his eyes, you’d never seen Big Louis so shaken before, he was the big boss of this place and took no funny business from anyone. Yet this new patron had him physically shaken and desperate? Briefly, you nodded in agreement, you needed that cash and it would get you the hell out of dodge.

Turning on your heels, you headed straight for the booth which is where the ‘guest’ was seated at. Glancing to the doors for a small moment, you saw the bouncers guarding the door alongside four new men dressed in full suits, not letting anyone enter or exit. As you approached, you felt the stranger’s eyes on you, they were a striking shade of blue you noticed as you got closer to the booth. His eyes never left you, you’d never felt so anxious or intrigued by a man before. The blue-eyed stranger took a swig of what seemed to be whisky, letting it swirl in the glass slightly, his eyes never left you as he cleared his throat to speak “Hey little songbird~” you froze, his voice was as alluring as his eyes, it had a hint of danger interlaced in its melodic tone but that only further drew you in.

He spoke up again “Gimme a song? I’m a busy man and I can’t stay long.” He cracked his knuckles “I’ve got clients to call, I got order to fill… I got walls to build.” he smoothed out his jacket for a moment and reached his hand out in your direction as if motioning for you to sing for him. And in that moment, your mouth went very dry.

‘I got riots to quell

And they're giving me hell back in Hades...’

How could one man have such power and control over you, it was baffling. From what he’d said, you knew he was a man of power. That was already evident when you first laid eyes upon him and from just seeing his mannerisms and the perfectly pinched and altered designer suit. But you couldn’t tell or know just how powerful he was, you drew a blank when you tried to comprehend that.

Suddenly, you realised you’d been silent and had let your mind drift astray and didn’t return to the current conversation till he spoke again “Little Songbird, Cat got your tongue?~” he teased which flustered you, leading to your fingers playing with the material of your dress as he began to chuckle “Always a pity for one so pretty and young~” he tapped his fingers against his glass, the rings he wore clinked against the glass gently.

‘When poverty comes to clip your wings

And knock the wind right out of your lungs

Hey, nobody sings on empty’

You’d recently turned 21, in this man’s eyes that meant you were young still, you could tell he was older but not drastic. You could tell he’d been aged by the world because of his eyes, they withheld pain and sorrow which could only be fully seen in the eyes of those who’d experienced the horrors of the current real-world of New York that everyone was trying to survive in. If you had to guess, he seemed to be at least thirty, definitely aged and in your eyes aged like a fine wine. He’d seen the world in ways you hadn’t and that further drew you in a led you to open your mouth and begin to sing for him “Strange is the call of this strange man, I want to fly down and feed at his hand, I want a nice soft place to land, I want to lie down forever…” You could feel his gaze upon your face, eyes were softly closed as you sang, you tried to keep yourself from shaking.

The man softly clapped, your eyes opened to see his face, his golden hair in the light reflected and made it resemble a halo or a crown as they were shrouded in dim lights, he reflected like a beacon. His eyes locked on yours for a moment before the drifted gently to your figure “Hey little songbird, you got something fine~ You'd shine like a diamond down in the mine~” He gestured to you with his hand before reaching into his jacket pocket with his other hand, retrieving a small white card and placing it on the table as he spoke up “And the choice is yours if you're willing to choose… Seeing as you've got nothing to lose~” he chuckled and reached to touch your chin with his thumb and forefinger, the feeling of the cold rings that were upon his fingers on your face made you shiver as he continued to speak as he held your chin “...And I could use a canary~” His voice resonated and grumbled which twinged something inside of you, something raw and unrefined.

Out of pure nerves and feeling the eyes of Big Louis on the back of your head you continued to sing, pulling away from his grasp on your chin “Suddenly nothing is as it was… Where are you now, Oscar? Wasn't it always the two of us? Weren't we birds of a feather…” the words which left your lips, the man’s expression changed for a moment, as if analysing your words in his head, before long he pat the seat beside him, motioning for you to take a seat beside him “Little songbird, let me guess he's some kind of poet and he's penniless?” He questioned as you sat beside him, you shyly nodded and stared down at the floor, how did he know that? It was as if he’d read your mind.

‘Give him your hand, he'll give you his hand-to-mouth

He'll write you a poem when the power's out’

The blue-eyed stranger was sat close to you as he kept speaking to you, as if reassuring you, the man which terrified Big Louis, was being compassionate to you? You felt his breath upon your shoulder, you shivered as he spoke again “Hey, why not fly south for the winter?” he motioned for the card which lay face down on the booth’s table in front of the two of you with his finger. You glanced to the table but your eyes fell upon a shape in his pocket, the shape of a gun on his thigh, you played with your hair out of nerves. He had a weapon and if he was as powerful as you’d thought, he had no qualms about firing that weapon in here…

He saw your gaze upon the shape in his pocket, and as sensing your nerves he smoothed his pant leg as if trying to brush it off.

The atmosphere in the club could be cut with a knife.

You were intrigued and scared of the man who was sat so close to you. But you were more intrigued and curious of the stranger, probably foolish of you but it was true. Feeling his hand upon your clothed back, it was a gentle touch as the other hand slowly reached to touch your chin, giving you enough time to pull away from him if you wanted, he waited to see if you pulled away from him. He sighed as he spoke “Little Songbird, what’s your name?” he asked, holding your chin gently as he awaited an answer, eyes locked on yours, your whole body tingling from the interaction, his voice soft and tender which danced in your ears, he felt strangely safe. Though he was dangerous, clearly, you still felt safe around him as if he could protect you.

“(YN) (LN).” You introduced yourself to the stranger, he nodded and hummed, it made a grumbling growl sound in his chest as he spoke once more to you “(YN), look all around you...See how the vipers and vultures surround you.” He motioned to those at the bar who stared at you intently, watching like a predator in the grass, you’d never been that observant to notice the type of looks they would give you. Only Big Louis seemed disinterested, knowing that in this moment you were protected by his ‘guest’. You felt a chill run up your back, how had you not noticed you were like prey to them. Memories of work-shifts when there would be sneers and glares and touches which lasted too long for your comfort, the smell of cigarettes lingered on your dresses on nights like those. How could you have been so oblivious. The only people you could maybe trust here was Wanda, Pietro and maybe this new stranger? Something was forming, was it trust or something else?

“They'll take you down, they'll pick you clean~ If you stick around such a desperate scene.” The stranger spoke, his voice in your ear which sent shiver down to your heart and made your body quiver, could you trust him? You looked at him, your lips slightly parted as he stared down at you.

Could you trust a wolf among a pride of hungry lions?

He whispered into your ear “See people get mean when the chips are down…” He growled which made you bite your lipstick stained lips. You stared up at him, you felt his breath upon your skin, eyes wide as he picked up the card that he’d placed on the booth’s table and handed it to you

‘SONGBIRD VERSUS RATTLESNAKE’

“What is it?” you asked, keeping your hand back until he answered you, the card still turned so you couldn’t see what was on the other side, your eyes glanced up to his and he held the card out to you, holding it between his forefinger and thumb “Your ticket.” He flipped it around to show his name on the other-side and a number. Your eyes widened as your eyes fell upon the name on the card

‘Steve Rogers’

The notorious leader of the Avengers Mob, he’d been involved with mob activity in the city since he was in his teens. From the Howling Commandos, to Shield and now the Avengers. He’d risen into power over the years. He was feared and loved by the city, depended on who you were and who’s territory you were living inside of. Your eyes fluttered up to Steve Rogers, who’s eyes were on you. You’d gained the interested of a notorious Mob Boss.

The interest of the ‘King of New York’...

And here he was. Giving you a ticket to his secret paradise. It was only spoken about in rumours about the secret underground run by Steve Rogers and the Avengers Mob. Anyone who wasn’t a part of the family wasn’t allowed in or out, that’s why it was only myth and rumour. No-one in the Avengers Mob was brave enough to rat out the location as they knew it would mean there would be hell to pay if they ever did.

Steve Rogers didn’t know you, why would he let you in? You reached for the ticket and stared at it, your finger brushed against Steve’s, you grasped the ticket as Steve’s hand picked your other hand up and brought it to his lips, laying a kiss upon your knuckles “The choice is yours. Just know this… I desire to learn more about you, to know you. To learn your quirks.” he stopped speaking for a moment and stared at you “I want to know your dreams and goals.” his voice soft and sounded like poetry, like the promises your ex used to make. You stopped that train of thought as he spoke again

“I could give you anything you desire, anything you ask of you could receive. Treated like the little goddess that you are turning into~ But… That choice is up to you.” He pulled back from you and rose to his feet, leaving you sat there in the booth, his finished whisky glass upon the table. You were frozen to the spot where you sat, clutching the ticket in hand. Steve bowed his head slightly “Thank you for the song, Little Songbird...” he winked and wandered over to Big Louis who simply shook his hand and spoke briefly. The voices of everyone was muffled, it was most likely the shock of all of this. He was giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, to get out of your old apartment where memories of your ex lingered and to be whisked off to what Steve made out to be paradise. You pondered what could be the catch, there was no such thing as true paradise on earth, there would always be darkness.

(YN) was a hungry young girl and Steve Rogers gave her a choice to make...

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