#the way he always tries to look out for Constance is so sweet

[katie618318]

I’m rewatching Party Down (again) and the way Kyle is so protective of everyone on the team is so sweet I love him sm

[ladyimaginarium]

HENNYWAYS I SAID I'D MAKE A LIL POST ABOUT IT SO. i think that loretta really was the missing link & was a key factor in bringing marco & connie together.

we already see that from a very young age loretta was clearly very attached to marco & vice versa & luca completely trusted him around his only daughter, that's a big deal.

loretta may have been playing with marco with her laughter being heard outside. also we gotta appreciate the fact that connie was running a business at literally 15 y/o.

its very clear that connie absolutely adores loretta & deeply respects galahad. which i have a hitch that galahad may have brought marco along because 1) loretta likes him & b) he may be interested in marco & connie's dynamic & want to see where it goes.

& her whole demeanor completely changes the second she sees marco outside.

then connie subtly tries to get galahad & loretta upstairs so she can speak with marco, mostly because she doesn't want tiny loretta to get caught up in their business considering she's so young & sweet. it's Very obvious that loretta & connie have a sisterly relationship considering loretta considers joel to be a grandmother figure already & that hasn't changed even when she's years older as a teenager.

i think connie may have been reminded of her own childhood looking at loretta with galahad here. she was prolly the cutest kid that ever lived. she was four at the time.

so she approaches marco to talk to him. word spreads & it's no secret that she knows he's changed & how he's actively proved this in the stories that were passed around him being the one saving the club from the hate group by killing every member there brutally & she's also entirely aware that loretta adores marco. so she's testing him.

connie has repeatedly told him not to come back because he's a living breathing reminder of the day her parents died, his former allegiance to the destroyers who killed them, & the trauma but he still does so. but notice how she has her door almost completely open, like she's almost ready to let him in. interestingly, marco doesn't face her either, almost like he's too ashamed to look at her or at the very least not having connie see his face out of respect for her & offering her at least that much.

& marco himself acknowledges this much to connie's exasperated annoyance.

a very obvious lie, he's never been good at lying to her, & connie sees right through it.

as she says, marco literally always comes back to her which is heavily implied out of how he feels is his obligation to keep her safe & makes sure she's alright despite everything that's happened between them & his blooming deep feelings for her.

& marco acknowledges this & apologizes to her; he genuinely doesn't like causing her pain even if he himself wasn't the one responsible for her parents' deaths but he can't stay away from wanting to protect her. notice how in all of her flashbacks of him, marco's eyes are always hidden. but you see, the windows are the eyes to the soul.

this is the first time we ever see connie smile around him. this is a first for her. connie's finally beginning to let him in. because if luca & galahad & loretta trust her, then maybe she can, too. look at how tenderly he looks at her. this entire scene is the beginning of the bittersweet end for both marco & constance several years later.

loretta's having some cookies & milk & galahad's very interested in their conversation.

& connie asks for his name while reaching for the door that separates them to open it. after all these 5 years of him in ergastulum, she's never once asked for his name nor asked for anything about him. this is a sign she's showing interest in him as a person. so marco turns around almost like he's in awe of her & then proceeds to tells her his chosen name. like. jfc get me sb who looks at me the way marco looks at connie.

[lunaticus-platina]

Another analysis about Travis' terrible, terrible social skill. And what Oc I'll possibly need to assign him so the whole disaster gets prevented and his sunshine of a niece doesn't get killed cuz IF IT IS A CHOICE BASED GAME I NEED ALL THE OPTIONS. ALL KILL ROUTE AVAILABLE WHERE'S MY ALL LIVE ROUTE

Travis' horrible communication skill brought so many troubles but it so endearing.

Giving them poems, of all things. Instead of just telling them. So goddamn cautious, keeps asking questions, keeps testing them, keeps feeling them out, clearly, he doesn't even wanna be near the holding cells, it's the last place he wanna be. Guilt eats him alive.

Maybe they'll cooperate. Help me out. The sooner the curse is over, the sooner I can let them out. My family don't need to know. No one will believe these two, anyway.

Meaningless interrogation just to see how they react. His back to the cell, gun plain in sight, just waiting for Laura to reach for it, seeing if she'll go for it. 'Really.' At Max's poor attempt at escape. Assessing them the entire time.

I wonder why he hides so much. His default response is clamming up. He only ever says 'long story' and never elaborates. Has he never had anyone to talk to or smth? His family's horrible so it kinda makes sense. He always tries to solve everything on his own. Do things his way. Doesn't even talk to Laura and just cuffs her roughly to the pipe, manhandles the two.

What he needs:

1. Someone intuitive since he won't say a damn, gotta read him and the situation like a book. Or persuasive and got a goddamn degree in negotiation, so he'll open up enough to spill.

2. Someone who got his back. Got knows he needs it. Being the only police officer around the area must be tough too, despite the 'small quiet town' rep, we all know the entire forest is fking cursed.

3. Charmer. Or at the very least polite and sweet. FUCK YOU CONSTANCE ahem. Sorry. The man seems to have smth against name calling, cuz, you know, that one screeching lady in his family that degrades him like no other, and 'his ma' said he likes to flash his badge around or smth, and while I hate that woman, Travis does seem to like it when his position is respected, cuz he takes his job pretty seriously.

So whenever he does the 'right thing', or tries his hardest, it'll be nice to have his personal emotional support person that points out all his good deeds and appreciates them. He's a providing type, after all.

4. Someone huggable. He needs to be hugged as many times as possible. Just cuddle and sleep. By god let him sleep.

5. Someone who fking listens to him when he tells them to. Like, not blindly obedient, but Laura, maybe if a menacing cop warns you not to go somewhere, maybe not risk it? One night at Harbinger Motel wouldn't have killed you. When someone looks at me that seriously and tells me not to do smth, I usually assume there's a good reason. And usually I'm right.

6. Someone who can call him out on his bs. Cuz the man can be so dense sometimes. No you can't just lock up two American citizens for 2 months and not tell them shit. That is way too close to the cell, relocate her if you don't want to come back to find bits of her face lying on the ground.

7. Someone who's at least moderately social and talkative, with quick wits, so they can cover him where he fails. If you tell someone NOT to do smthing, Travis, without telling them WHY, guess what happens? Yeah. They ain't fucking around to find out, if you say the camp's closed, private property, bear sighting, and probably spook them with little bit of wild animal attacks around the area. Not too hard is it.

8. Who's just as determined. Because he admires strong dedication. Once he sees they're ride or die, he'll be hooked.

9. Someone who understands the importance of family, and also the danger of dysfunctional ones. He knows no one person is supposed to look after an entire family. So he needs someone who understands why he does what he does, but point out that his family's supposed to look out for him, too.

He struggles between duty and family, so if someone helps him find a healthier balance in-between, he'll be so relieved.

10. Someone who knows how to deal with his darker aspects. He ain't no saint is he? With enough pressure he can get nasty too. Towards anyone, especially to himself. Someone who can 'handle' that evil in him will get to enjoy a good man Travis who has that part of himself conquered.

There are probably more things I gotta look through. But I'm starting to get the picture. I got just the right person for you, Sheriff.

Hopefully pairing a police officer with ex-convict won't give him too much of a headache.

[ferretwhomst]

Ok ok so the au I needed yours for is based off the musical Ride the Cyclone! Basic premise of Ride the Cyclone is a group of High Schoolers (they are in a choir) ride a roller coaster and die so they have a little competition to see who gets reborn. The competition is run by one of those fortune teller robots. I matched them up to the characters like this: G-man->Karnak: Karnak is the one running the whole thing and knew the kids would die, so yeah he has to be played by G-man Ocean O'Connel Rosenburg->Gordon: Ocean literally sings a song about how much better she is then everyone and interjects into everyone's songs and tries to be the main character of everything. So Gordon but cranked up a bit Noel Gruber->Bubby: Noel is the only out gay man in their small town and is VERY flamboyant and likes old french movies and wants to be a hooker in post war france and works at taco bell. I also need Bubby to sing Noel's Lament Ricky Potts->Tommy: Ricky has a degenerative disease that means he has to walk with crutches and makes him unable to speak but it turns out he's really creative and also wants to bang cat girls in space. Constance Blackwood->Coomer: Ok I wanted to make Coomer Jane Doe but he is more similar to Constance because she is very nervous but also WANTS to live and WANTS to be happy and wants something bigger then herself but realizes she is so lucky to have the life she had Micha Bashinski->Forzen: He raps in autotune when he is angry and loves his girlfriend and is actually really sweet but looks agressive and is only in the choir because he stole communion wine. Jane Doe->Benrey: Jane can't remember who she is as she lost her head in the accident and replaced it with a doll's head.She says a lot of weird things and creeps out the rest of the cast so like...

OH SHIT I JUST WOKE UP AND I AM OBSESSED W THIS. so unintentionally perfect for the hlvrai crew omfg. love that noel and jane are bubby and benrey in this because iirc from what ive been told they're like. good friends.... RIGHT... thats accurate then

also bubby singing noel's lament would actually be the death of me and i mean that in THE most positive way possible. i would actually pass out and never come back. like a totally normal person. /j

i love the description you gave for ricky. he just wants to bang catgirls in space........ rock on my man FJGKVKSKDKD

i know next to nothing abt mischa but i love that forzen is him . "is actually really sweet but looks aggressive" i have ALWAYS thought of forzen like that this is so perfect HSFKSKFKSKE

[genieofthebooks]

If Penny grew up with them AU hcs

She was fostered into the gruber household and she was eventually adopted by Noels mother around age 5.

Her and Noel are really close and she buys him books about france and He buys her books about the creation of dolls. She lent him her copy of waiting for godot so the nativity thing was technically her fault.

The doll she always holds onto was a gift from Noel and his Mother when she was adopted. She named it Savannah.

Between the ages of 12-15 she tried out different hairstyles but she decided on dutch braids that were pinned up. (Kind of like Yelena Belova) but on occasion Noel puts her hair up in pin curls for her so she can match her doll.

Ocean was slightly wierded out by her when they first met but slowly saw that she was harmless and Penny's quiet nature she eventually grew fond of and most of the time just talked and talked while Penny happily listened.

She has a variety of books but most of them were horror or quite concerning. She would love and relate strongly to Miss Perengrines home for Peculiar Children. She does have a copy of Anne of green gables which was a gift from Ocean because she wanted to add something normal to her book shelves and she holds that copy quite close to her heart as it was the first book she haf been gifted. After the accident she reads it alot.

She goes mute when her anxiety is quite high so Noel and her go to a sign language so they can comunnicate when she goes mute and in that class the finally talk to ricky who starts up a conversation about her doll so there is just a happy Penny Signing/Rambling about her, getting a few words wrong and thus friendship between Ricky and Penny began.

Her and Constance were already quite close in the fact that Noel's mother took her to the blackwoods Cafe when she was 5 to try her first hot chocolate so everytime penny goes into tgr Cafe, Constance always has a hot chocolate ready and they bonded over their love for chocolate and sweets.

When Mischa joined it was alot like she was intimidated by him and she made him curious so after he had been there for a week he asked her some questions about things she liked. She answered in sign language mainly talking about dolls which she was shocked that she didn't drive him away. She was feeling anxious so she had gone mute and was surprised when he answered her back in fluent sign language.

Noel, Mischa and Ocean are the Protect Penny group founders after they saw her get bullied about being quiet. Mischa did do some colourful ways of dealing with the bullies lets just say they are too terrified to ever look at Penny again.

Constance and Ocean managed to convince her to join choir after they had heard her singing and she joined under the exception that Mischa would as well. He stole the wine just so he could get into the choir but pretended to hate it but he wanted to see Penny happy.

Ricky, Mischa and Penny, Noel chiming in on occasion would just randomly sign to one another and would talk about the randomest and sometimes very concerning things.

When they were at the fair Penny was so anxious she klung onto Mischa and her doll for some comfort knowing that nothing bad can happen to her if he is there. (Spoiler: Something did happen) At the fair she also kept talking to ricky through sign language trying to distract herself.

𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚛 𝙸𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝.

Taglist:

@whattheworldneeds

[wench-and-jezebel]

The Musketeers Reaction: The Challenge

Jezebel (@typicalopposite) reacts [with occasional asides by Wench (@scripted-downfall)]

Now with BONUS: meta analysis :) (But Wench might post that separately later too... she hasn't decided)

[Oh, no, a prisoner transfer!  That always goes badly; just ask CTU (from 24)]

Well shit 

Well…. SHIT THIS MAN A BEAST [Yup!]

“Stay out of this, damn you”  Let us get our asses kicked by one man.. on our own  [Red Guards be prideful dumbasses]

Wot?  WOT?!  WHAT!?!  [Tenth Doctor-coded, you are]  ☠️☠️☠️ [But also, agreed.  They explicitly warned the Red Guard.  And then tried to help.  Not their fault the RG didn't listen 💀]  Right!?!

No one asked you, man child

WHAT, ARE THEY ALL CHILDREN??? [Yes]

OOOP- awwwwww  [Dangerous for him and Constance to do that in broad daylight tho]  

Well their relationship has escalated

[OH, LOOK, HER HUSBAND; WHAT.  DID I SAY.]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️ [Awkward, that is.]

Blech

Sweet lord  [Indeed]

Do they not get paid?  [Kinda but also... money got spent… It's not much, I don't think]

[They're Tinder-ing in church ☠️]  Im dying  [Porthos swiped right on the widow alkdsfj]  Trying to say something and these two are distracting me  [I adore them] Ok, so anyway… I’m guessing D’art does it, wins, and then becomes a Musketeer

Poor d’Art

Y’all two really trying to swindle money from grieving women… MEN  [Only one was grieving.  The other was having an affair, since those are highly common]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Imma.  Oooop… Second-hand embarrassment  [She's covering for him :)]  ☠️☠️☠️

☠️☠️☠️ Oooop she ain’t grieving too hard  [I'm sorry, but they're kinda cute]  They are

“You’re cute”

☠️☠️☠️ Aramis is gonna get the money and Porthos is gonna get a wife  [adslkfjlksadjf]

Candle sniffer?  Is that a person?  ☠️☠️☠️  [Candle snuffer, dear]  I know 😂

["Too often, you let your emotions get the better of you"  "Can we just get on with it"  Sir, that.  Proves the point]  ☠️☠️☠️

Oooop, I see what you’re doing, Athos

Blech

[I love Peter Capaldi]

Oooop.  That might not go well

[Love lines like "I can see you are a man of quick intelligence"... they’re always passive-aggressive digs]

How did he not see him?  Or hear that?  They are quite incompetent

[OH SHIT I REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THIS]

Oooooop

“You killed my father”  [he’s making a habit of this]  “I mean, burned down my farm.  Prepare to die”

Well damn  [This has gone badly for young d'Artagnan]  d’Art, how do you really think this is gonna play out

[Of course Athos had to save him ☠️]  ☠️☠️

Awwww  [They turned it in a different direction, but I usually detest "I'm not like *you*" statements]

“Get some rest!”  How about dry off?

Bruh where did the rain go?

Bitch (Milady), why ain’t you ded?

[This is what I meant by “I remember what happens after this” btw]  Let me breathe on your mouth for a moment  [Shut up]

“Leave me alone, Athos”  Ma’am you came to him???  Womennnn

“I thought you had brains, but clearly not.”  Athos, what has he done for you to think that?  [alskdfjlsakdjf This is a valid question]

– – – 

Jezebel: Welp! First off the level of ack I feel about friends having to fight each other in a competition is like…. Skyrocketing.  Idk if it’s gonna be as awkward (they each think they will win, disappointment if they don’t) but I feel awkward about it lol!

Wench: You underestimate their loyalty, dear… I'm reasonably — like 90% — confident that they're only, like, half-competing.  Because this is the current main way they know to get d'Art his commission and he's running out of time.  And these three are, it's heavily implied, the best of the regiment so it’s kinda foolish to send a new recruit unless it’s more about getting him the commission.

Jezebel: Ohhhh they letting him win?

Wench: I suspect they've already gone to Treville and been like.  “Don't consider us for the tournament.”  I don't know for sure, but that's always been my interpretation.  Also, it's less "letting him win" and more "nudging him in the right direction and giving him sway with Treville."  Buddy's from Gascony and got that hot-headed pride thing going; he wouldn't accept their charity any more than he'd accept their money

Jezebel: Ohhhhhh! I see!!  I love them! 🙂

Wench: At least Athos, since he's heavily training d'Art to compete.  I'm less sure about Flort because they seem to kinda need the money 💀 

Jezebel: ☠️☠️☠️☠️  Gonna be another: (Athos) “We weren't gonna try to win” -> (Porthos) “Weren't we?” -> (Aramis) “Next time let us know” things

Wench: aslkdjflkadsjf Exactly!!!

Jezebel: It feels like as of rn they have put Milady in the ep…. Just so she’s in the ep ☠️ Not that I’m complaining she’s aight but she just seems random

Wench: You ain't seen shit yet.  Also, in case you missed this, they're Heavily paralleling Athos and d'Artagnan in this ep.  Her being there is definitely intentional.  

Jezebel: Yes! I have 😂 Athos even said it ☠️

Wench: Ma'am.  He said one overt "you're more like me than you know"; that is not paralleling ☠️  And, if it were, it’s not the extent of the paralleling either 

Jezebel: Aight lay me out the parallels 😂😂

Wench: I'll tell you in endpoint; it's easier to avoid mincing my words

Jezebel: Speaking of tho!  I LOVE ATHOS TRAINING DART SM OMG!!!  And Flort are just fucking chaos. ☠️☠️ I love them! Porthos trying to talk to the widow tho was fucking adorable

Wench: I adore them all

Jezebel: Ready?

Wench: Yup!

– – – 

Ooooop

Ma’am!

She is so pretty tho 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Oooooop!  Oooooooooooooop!!

No, she didn’t

Oh nooooo  ["Who else is just going to walk up and hand me 30 livres"  Well, ya see-]  THIS IS WHY YOU ARE DUMB  [Constance was]  

PORTHOS!

OOOOP she’s giving him that look

[never trust "it doesn't matter"s]

HE BRUSHED HER HAIR BACK WITH HIS PINKY!?  THAT WAS ADORABLE

Ooooop!

[I kinda adore them; sorry to your Portamis plotting ☠️ ]  (Porthos) “What was I supposed to be getting again?”  (Aramis) “….. NOT THAT”

[Shocker, the marksman won the shooting competition alksdfj]  Aramis and that damn hat ☠️☠️☠️  [Oh, and the close-combat dude won the close-combat skirmish; who knew? :)]  OH THIS GIF SET!

Athos watching all proud  [*simultaneously* Also, in point of fact, I'm not actually sure Athos is competing at all]

Angry face

HE DIDNT FLINCH

“No control….”  Buddy. You knew this. Ahead of time. Why are you acting like it's new???

I see what you’re doing… Le gasp!  CARDINAL YOU ARE INSANE!  

PORTHOS!

Dawwwww

Ma’am!  SO ARE YOU 

Okay, not the last one.  But two out of three isn’t bad!

[Whoops]

Ma’am… It- Y’all- Sir.  THEY ARE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER  [Because they're so dumb? :)]  Yes

OOOP

He gone beat the hell out of herrrrr… Those things were allowed back then

Oooop

OOOOP

[Protective!Athos unlocked asldkfj]  Ooooop!

Treville knows he’s letting the guy fight huh?  [Not saying :)]

POOR DART!  [Poor Constance]  I KNOW

💔💔💔💔  The break in his voice when he said I want you

POOOR CONSTANCE

“Her name’s Alice”  Oooop-  [Callback to your earlier “Aramis is gonna get the money and Porthos is gonna get a wife” !!!]  Jealous Aramis

The Musketeers are like WOT

[Bruh.  Swordsman???  It's a.  Sword contest.  I know Athos didn't seem to be competing in the initial bracket.  But also. If the point is to win. ???]

They look like guard dogs ready to attack

[Once again, a very Doctor Who score… (Again, same dude, but it especially shows here)]  lol!

There goes the hat

[Also, gotta love Athos getting ready to throw hands the second Treville's arm got injured alksdjf]  Yes!!!  [Man was taking off his cloak in 0 time]

Welp ok.  King making up for all the childish behavior

[d'Artagnan needed to have his heart broken to not let it sway his actions ☠️]  💔💔💔💔

Ooooop!  He’s doing the thing! The thing Athos did!  [:))))]

Whoooop whooooop!  [I must say.  It's.  It's kinda biased.  To have the King.  Judging an assessment.  Involving the King's Musketeers]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️

Oooooo!  Whoooop whoooop!

[Adore the fact that Athos gets to give it to him]

Ooooop!  She’s been had!  [Why is she surprised that the scheming, manipulating, control-freak Cardinal was being a scheming, manipulating, control-freak??]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️  [Also, I'm sorry, but the Athos/Milady storyline is something that is so delectably twisted I can't even... I'll explain some in endpoint]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️

“d’Art is the key”  ‘Cause he’s dumb

Sighhhh, womennnn

💔💔💔💔💔

Ack!  DON’T DO IT

HE DONE IT

HE DIDN’T DO IT

OOOOP!  She’s confused!

– – – 

Jezebel: Basic summary: Poor d’Art!  But also YAY D’ART!  But then poor Constance.  No really 💔💔💔💔 POOR CONSTANCE.  But Miladys face when he didn’t get in the carriage?  stunned 😀

Wench: Indeed

Jezebel: Also I didn’t absolutely hate the king this episode.  He seemed competent ☠️☠️ I retract my earlier statements about him 😂😂

Wench: Ma'am. He was still being the same childish king he's always been; he just happened to be childish in favor of the protagonists.

Jezebel: ☠️☠️☠️ ok fair

Wench: He just threw a competition as a way of proving that his men were better than the Cardinal's, and then he rigged that competition, and then he took the prize money on top of that laksdjf

Jezebel: This… is also true 😂😂  Anyway 😂 ummmmm… oh yeah! Porthossss 💔💔 he was so soft and non-tough-guy with Alice it was adorable.  And the “Who’ll look after you?” to Aramis???? 💕💕  (When she leaves)

Wench: Yeah  :) 

Jezebel: And Papa Treville! And how they all was like yeah fuck the competition soon as he got hurt! I love it!  And I did mention up there the look on Milady’s face when the lil dummy she was so sure she could seduce didn’t take the bait ☠️☠️ Now that may change I guess! But that was satisfying that he wasn’t like “well, bye, Constance; hello, Milady!”

Wench: This is true, and it's nice that he's not fickle... Fits in with his character, though, for the most part, so I'm not horribly shocked

Jezebel: Athos tho! I loved him this whole episode!  And his little "get down there before he changes his mind" (with a smirk)

Wench: Yesssss

Jezebel: Uhhhhh… the only thing I can say about Athos and Milady’s scene together was already said in the react, but how she was all “lemme stalk you” and then all “HMPH stop stalking me”... Like!?!?

Wench: You still don’t see the parallels?

Jezebel: Nope ☠️☠️ Just tell me

Wench: *sigh* Okay

Jezebel: 🙂

Wench: For reference, btw, we only have two more s1 episodes left.  Now, first, some contextual parallels: Have you noticed the running theme of scarring/binding/tying in Athos' and Milady's backstories?

Jezebel: Um. I- no? Maybe? You say that and all I think is her being hanged but I can’t remember where else it is happening or do you mean figuratively

Wench: Yes and no.  That’s the obvious example.  She was hanged.  She still "bears the token of [his] love" in the scar that remains.  She covers it up with a fine necklace --- a choker --- to obscure her past.  But less obviously... He still wears her locket.  She says that he gave her a necklace, and he still wears the chain that represents her around his neck.  Half the time he's drinking, his head is literally bowed by it.  Also, in his intro, the locket is the first real thing we see of his character.  He's hungover and drinking first, yes, but the second he gets his bearing/sits up, he pulls out the locket.  And that's before he even gets dressed/does his wake-up ritual.  Within that locket is a pressed forget-me-not (or an icon of the flower, but the point remains... a forget-me-not).  Additionally, the first time we see her, she's manipulating things so that he gets imprisoned --- weaponizing justice the same way she feels was done against her --- and quite literally manacled in the process.  Et cetera, et cetera.

Jezebel: Ok, so see! This is what I mean by I may see a parallel but would never see it that deep! I would see he wears her locket with a forget me not inside and be like ohhhhh he is like tormenting himself. And this I would not think about it again.  I would have never caught the choker being symbolic just that she needed something that fit to her neck… or she couldn’t hide the scar

Wench: And that's shown in their interactions too… In "Commodities," for example, when they both are back at Pinon: after she’s knocked him to the ground, she literally pulls him up to meet the dagger by the locket chain.

Still Wench: And yet it’s also why she can’t go through with killing him; she's so distracted by it that she takes too long and d'Artagnan shows up.

Jezebel: ☹️☹️☹️☹️ see now I caught that that threw her off ☠️☠️ I’m not fully unaware! 😂

Wench: Not surprised by this, but the scene still means more in context of the larger symbolism.  Then you've got the episode we just watched, where you have the alley scene, in which she literally tugs him closer via the chain.

Once again back to Wench: But even beyond the literal symbolism that's emphasized overtly on screen, it's their literal storyline… They're each orbiting the other, unable to let go completely but unable to forgive and forget and move on either.  Tied together by their mutual scarring --- whether literal or metaphorical --- and the literal ties that bind.

Jezebel: ☹️☹️☹️☹️ that is so sad and makes so much sense once pointed out omg

Wench: So.  Why have I spent so long yapping about this?  Because all of this context boils down to Milady deciding to sponsor d'Art.  And what does she do for him?  She gives him money, BUT.  Attached to that money.  Is nothing less than:

Still Wench: A necklace.  More than that, a forget-me-not pendant on a chain.

Jezebel: I meant to mention that more! I think I was like oooop or something but at first I thought it was THE locket! Like i thought she’d got it off Athos

Wench: It's not, but what it is is a cheaper-quality pendant.  It's not a locket; it's just an oval with a carving.  It's stark and cold, harsh and engraved.  Molded.  Like, one might say, a woman who's been through shit and decided to embrace the role of criminal she feels shoved into.  Athos', meanwhile, is a locket.  It's got the actual flower, soft and natural and encapsulated in time.  A happy memory encased in pendant form.  But it's also not intact.  It's old and withered and slightly tarnished: the necklace equivalent of that warm and happy glow they always use for the Athos/Milady flashbacks.

Jezebel: I am sitting here reading this like…. Bruh, these are blink and you’ll miss them moments and here she is just pulling full detailed parallels out of her ass…. But they make sense and make the characters so much deeper and sadder… ack

Wench: I'm boutta add a bit more, whoops :)  Because this shows up in the context of Milady offering to sponsor d'Artagnan, right?  She's offering him money.  But the chain comes with the money.  Her influence comes with the money.  They have to go together, or they don't go at all.  If he takes that money, he becomes even more indebted to her than he already was.  And he does take it.  And he takes the necklace (her "care," her influence, his debt to her) too.  AND… this is what gets him and Constance in trouble.  It's Bonacieux seeing d'Art and Milady together and discovering that necklace that prompts him to follow d'Art.  It's Milady's meddling influence that keeps screwing things up for them.  BUT it’s not all bad because, when the necklace goes missing and Constance asks about it, he dismisses it --- her influence, his debt to her --- as unimportant.  He lets it go.  She does it again --- not with a necklace, but still --- at the end: she offers him a ride in her carriage, and it’s just a simple offer, but with strings --- literally --- attached

Jezebel: (I was waiting cause it seemed you were gonna add more to that! Since he declines the offer)

Wench: Oh, no.  Nothing immediately attached.  But I will say... The more I (re)watch, the more I realize that she's got a lot of the archetypes of the devil figure.  (That's the character who offers a temptation but gets control of you in return)

Jezebel: Oooooo! 👀 I can see that

Wench: She consistently offers things to people --- love to Athos, power to the Cardinal, a hodgepodge of things for d'Art --- but it's not as easy as it seems.  With the sole exception of the Cardinal (because he's an unstable force that she can't fully manipulate), she gets nearly interminable power over the people who take her up on it 

Still Wench: Anyway, that's the main but extensive parallel between Athos and d'Artagnan in this episode.  Athos outright says, "you're more like me than you know" (paraphrased), and they show it, bit by bit, with this running symbolism.  They're alike, but not the same.  They have similar necklaces --- similar ties to Milady --- but not identical ones.  d'Art hasn't and never will have the same opportunity to be influenced by her as Athos did --- he first met her when she framed him for murder, so he's not quite as inclined to trust her as Athos (who met her when she was either not the same person or pretending to not be the same person, depending on your interpretation) --- but he's nonetheless swayed by her.  Similar, but not the same.  See?

Jezebel: Yes! I do! 😂 though I never would have before! So thank you 😂😂😂

Wench: :)  np!  Any overall responses though?  ☠️ I kinda took over

Jezebel: More of a question… Am I just seeing her look confused he didn’t get in the cart, or is that gonna play into this little “she can sway Dart to come to the Cardinal men” thing she had because she doesn’t have the hold over him she thinks?

Wench: Wot

Jezebel:

Wench: Hellooooo?

Jezebel:

Wench: Good night, dear

-- -- --

*the next morning*

Jezebel: I was falling asleep ☠️ but I can’t remember if you ever commented on if there was a point to be made about him not getting in the cart with her. Like he can resist her and she didn’t expect that, or something. And because it seemed like you hadn’t responded I was asking basically if I was looking too deep into it. Like sure maybe she was like: oh ok then. But to me she looked legitimately shocked, as this came right after her telling the Cardinal it would be easy to sway him in their favor. If that makes more sense ☠️😂

Wench: It does a bit, yeah, and, to answer…  I kinda adressed it, but only a bit, with the "She does it again --- not with a necklace, but still --- at the end: she offers him a ride in her carriage, and it’s just a simple offer, but with strings --- literally --- attached.”  It's another way of drawing him closer/getting him under her influence.  And she's feeling Really Confident --- as you said --- about her skill at influencing him.  But what he does is a) show loyalty and b) show love.  (Both for Constance, but still).  This is particularly important because, if you think back to the pilot when they *coughs discreetly behind my fan* laid together, he saw the scar around her neck, asked about it, and, upon hearing that her husband had her almost killed, offers to kill said husband for her.  So what we have here is a conflict between her influence and the other people in d'Artagnan's life, and she's been counting on her influence being strongest.  (Which is partly because that's how it worked with Athos... even now, buddy can't move on.)  But she just got proof that it's very clearly not.  He just prioritized Constance (someone who'd just broken up with him, too, and seemingly very cruelly, even if Milady didn't know that) over her, and that's a sign that maybe she's too used to her own allure working and she's misjudged d'Artagnan's character,  But it's just a minor thing, so it's not panic yet, just confusion.  Does that make sense?

Jezebel: Yes! 🙂

Wench: Good... I feel like half of this shit is not what it is in my head laksdfj

Jezebel: ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ doubt it, because everything you say makes so much sense

Wench: ☠️😭

Jezebel: The emojissssss

Wench: Shut up  But I have had months to think about this.  And more since the book.

Jezebel: That was all I had for endpoint though! I just really wanted your two way more than two but I love it cents on that look

-- -- --

Wench edit, many days later: It's occurring to me that those "oop"s are very incomprehensible but idk what they referred to, so I can't put in signal phrasing... sorry :] (Blame Jezebel)

[ofmythsandfablesaa]

Constance Hatchaway

SYNOPSIS

Growing up on a farm wasn’t easy for a spoiled rotten Constance. Heiress to a small fortune within her town, Constance expected everything handed to her on a silver platter without a fuss. When she didn’t get her way though, which came more often than not, Constance became bratty and devilish and it continued until she bloomed into a beautiful young woman. Her beauty and charming personality caught the eyes of many, but none more-so than Ambrose Harper, the son of a successful farmer. The two fell madly in love, and were soon married.

The honeymoon stage seemed to last a long time for the two lovebirds. always found with their arms linked and whispering sweet nothings to each other, it seemed like a match made in heaven. But what the public, and Ambrose, didn’t see was the constant internal struggle Constance went through. Her lust for money was turning out to be far greater than her love for the sweet and innocent Ambrose. He couldn’t keep up with his bride’s expensive tastes, and it slowly began to take a toll on their relationship. Constance’s greed became too great one evening, and so were the slashes in poor Ambrose’ neck. He was nearly decapitated in the bed he shared with his bride. When word got out, no one ever suspected Constance to be the killer. How could they? The couple was so in love; everyone saw it. just as they saw her grieving hysterically and shaking violently from the murderous act. Unfortunately, “the killer’’ was never found, but Constance was now heiress of her late husband’s small fortune. and well, things just took off from there…

Two years later, she was married again. And then another three times after that. All of them ended tragically. Each husband had been decapitated, and “poor Constance” was ever the most grieving of widows. She was known in town as “the cursed bride” or “the black widow bride” – for she was always dressed in black, in mourning for her late husbands. Death seemed to follow her everywhere. And now, having acquired all the fortune she could want and never getting caught for her evil acts, she lives comfortably within the mansion she inherited from her latest victim husband.

But do beware of her. one never knows when she’ll break out the hatchet again for her next killing…

VERSES

In sickness and in…wealth (aged 27 ; fc- Florence Pugh):

Constance is newly widowed after her fifth husband’s tragic death and living quite comfortably in her mansion. she parades around town dressed in black, in mourning naturally, but she isn’t one to shy away from throwing parties at her manor. after all, one can’t live a grim life forever…

Till death do us part (deceased, but looks 27 ; FC - Florence Pugh):

though Constance has since passed on after many years of living, she still remains at the mansion. Constance haunts the many halls and rooms, dressed in a bridal gown and carrying around a hatchet, searching for her next victim who walks through the mansion’s doors. this can take place at any point starting from the 1920s and on.

Hurry back… (aged 30 ; modern/main ; FC - Florence Pugh):

Modern day. Connie Barnes has given up her life on a ranch and just moved to the Hudson River Valley after learning she has inherited an old mansion passed down to her through her grandmother, a distant relation of George Hightower, who once owned the mansion and died tragically not too long after marrying. Connie tries to settle into the large and empty home, but every so often, the home doesn’t feel so…empty…and Connie suspects someone’s watching her every move.

[amerrierworld]

Not a total frickin’ idiot

For the request: R x Daphne Kluger. R being a part of the original Heist Crew and also being the one Daphne approaches. They’re super flirty w/ each other and everyone knows that they like each other except themselves.

Summary: You thought you had gone unnoticed at the Met, but Miss Kluger never forgets a face.

Characters: Daphne Kluger x fem!reader, the Ocean’s team

Word Count: 1,657

Warnings: swearing!? Do i still have to put a warning for that? idk

If you had learned anything about diva actress Daphne Kluger from Rose, it was that you don’t speak unless spoken to first. 

And considering she didn’t talk to you at all during the heist, you were able to get around the entire night never uttering a single word to her, fulfilling your role on the team without any kind of hiccup.

So you were quite surprised when she had slid into your booth at your favourite coffee shop, giant sunglasses and a fashionable sunhat masking her face. You looked up from your phone and were about to comment about your booth being taken until you recognized her.

Your mouth hung open a little bit as she took off the hat and glasses. Her lips were painted a deep red and her outfit was impeccable, as always.

“Say..” she immediately said, pearly whites nearly blinding you as she smiled, “you were at the Met, weren't you?”

“I- I’m sorry?” you began. “I don’t know-”

“Oh my god! You totally were! You were wearing that adorable dress. Gosh, you looked so good.”

You were blushing hard, because in a matter of barely a minute, Daphne Kluger, gorgeous movie star, had called you adorable and good-looking all in the same sentence.

“I was there too- well, obviously you know that,” she chuckled, “and I was wearing that beautiful diamond necklace, don’t you remember? It was all over the news. Especially when I supposedly lost it.”

“O-oh? Right, y-yes I remember reading about it in the news..”

“And you know.. I couldn’t help but wonder how weird my designer was acting all night. And that lady in the black from the staff, who found my necklace? You’d almost think they were acting.”

You were almost as pale as a sheet at this point, gripping your cup in shaking fingers.

“And you know what’s funny? I saw you talking to both of them during the night. I mean, how couldn’t I notice? You looked so gorgeous, almost like you were asking me to see you.”

You gulped, “I do not know what you’re talking about, Miss Kluger-”

“Just call me Daphne,” she leaned forward, lips spread in a feline smile, elbows resting on the table and propping her head up on her hands.

“Y/N, right? I asked for your name from the guest list, I hope you don’t mind. They let me in on those sorts of things anyways.”

“That’s me,” you replied. 

“Do you know Debbie Ocean? Of course you do, you two also seemed pretty close all night, hm? You’re lucky I was the only one who noticed.”

“What?”

“I’ve been approached by an investigator who seems really interested in her because the uh, necklace turned out to be a fake.”

You tried to pretend to be surprised at the news, but you couldn’t muster it, and Daphne looked at you knowingly.

“Luckily, I didn’t tell  him any  of your names, because I wasn’t sure if I was right. But you just confirmed all my suspicions anyways, so..”

“Are you threatening me?” you narrowed your eyes at her, and she gasped in mock offence.

“Of course not!” she leaned forward, giving you ample view of her cleavage, hand trailing over yours,

“I’m seducing you, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to say as she looked at you with those deep, telling eyes. Her own eyes flickered appreciatively over your features, and you wondered if she was checking you out or if she was simply acting.

A small group of fans approached the table, chittering and blushing at the sight of Daphne Kluger in a meagre coffee shop such as this one. She smiled amicably, accepting their compliments and giving them autographs, before saying,

“You’re all so sweet, but do you think you’d be able to let my girlfriend and I have some privacy for the rest of our date? Thaanks,” she waved as the fans rushed off, gasping and gossiping amongst themselves at the prospect of the Daphne Kluger having a girlfriend. 

“Girlfriend?” you asked once you found your voice again. She only grinned and winked at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that baby. Now, are you gonna tell me about the necklace, or what?” she sipped your drink and your mouth went dry.

-

“Chilly,” Daphne remarked at the glances given by the rest of the group, “what about, ‘Hi Daph, welcome to the team. Let’s not all high five at once.’”

You chewed your lip, bounced your leg, avoided her gaze altogether, and tried very hard not to look at how good she looked in her black dress. You were sitting across from the couch where she had plopped down, hunched in the metal framed chair.

“Why’d y’let her get to you, Y/N. I told you not to draw attention to yourself!” Rose said to you, after you and Debbie had explained how Daphne had found you, recognized you and called out the plan. You, being the newbie in the ways of criminality, could barely think of a cover up and ended up bringing her to Debbie with a spluttering confession.

“She didn’t,” Daphne’s eyes were locked on yours, “I just noticed her myself.”

You blushed a little and looked away. Debbie looked at you apologetically, knowing you felt put on the spot.

“Plus,” Daphne continued, “I am the one who is saving your asses from insurance fraud, okay?”

The team burst into shock, responses flying left and right.

“I-I was gonna get to that,” you said hastily, eyeing Debbie, who stepped in,

“It seems that they’ve assigned an insurance investigator-”

“Who’s about to look up your asses with a flashlight,” Daphne pointed out.

“Who?” 

"Oh, this little Columbo dude, everything but the trench coat, totally on to you.���

“His name is John Frasier,” Debbie said.

"Wha- you know him?” Amita spluttered in disbelief.

“Yes, he busted my father twice, my brother once.”

“He’s family,” Lou added.

“Lest we forget, this entire enterprise was to keep me out of jail,” Rose interrupted, worry etched on her face.

“No one is going to jail,” Lou assured her.

“We expected this, we prepared for this,” said Debbie. Not many of the team seemed to believe her, with Nineball adding,

“Yup... that’s clear.”

“We will not be the prime suspect,” Debbie said sternly.

"Then who will be?”

“Well,” you added, “we’ve got the security guys, the busboys-”

“...The shady guy who put you away,” Tammy sighed, arching an eyebrow at Debbie, who could barely contain the smirk on her face. Daphne stared at her incredulously,

“..the boyfriend.”

"Mhm,” Debbie replied, “they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

Lou nodded in approval, adding a faint, “that’s nice.”

"Thanks.”

“Wow... that is amazing,” Daphne grinned, chewing her gum in delight, “the precision, right? It’s always the attention to detail and the little grace notes that really make something sing.”

A short silence followed. Glances were cast between the rest of you, wondering what on earth had gotten into Daphne’s head.

“...Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, clearly dumbfounded by this multi-millionaire actress dropping into their party. Daphne stilled for a moment, her eyes flickering to you for a second before saying,

“I.. don’t have that many close female friendships. Plus bookclubs are the worst, so I just thought y’know... could be something fun to share?”

“You’re becoming a criminal because you’re lonely?”

“...Who isn’t sometimes, right?”

"Are you an only child?” you asked her. Her silence told you enough.

The team seemed to accept at that point that Daph was there to stay, so they went about their usual business. 

“Beer?” Lou offered you, which you immediately said yes to, feeling a little woozy after that whole experience.

Tammy went to the kitchen and opened another pizza box, and you went to grab a slice for yourself before calculating your next move carefully, hoping your brain wouldn’t short circuit as you grabbed another slice and headed to where Daphne was sitting by herself.

You sat next to her, very very awkwardly, and offered her the paper plate.

“Aw, thanks,” she smiled, cheering up a little, “you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me because you feel bad for me. Look, I’m sorry I cornered you the other day. I didn’t mean to seem desperate or whatever.”

“You- you didn’t seem desperate,” you frowned, “and I don’t feel bad for you. Whatever gave you that idea?”

She looked at you with a mouthful of pizza, and made an exasperated gesture to your whole surroundings, indicating the events that had just occurred. She also didn’t want you to know how she had been dying for your attention the minute she had seen you at the Met. 

“Oh, well, I mean, I think your reasoning was perfectly justified,” you cocked your head at her and smiled. Then you lifted your pizza and said,

“to crime!”

The rest of the group cheered and replied with the same phrase, lifting their beers or pizza with glee. Daphne blushed at the exclamation.

“Now you,” you said, nodding encouragingly. 

“What?”

“Do it! If you’re gonna be a part of the Ocean’s team, you gotta get with the rituals.”

“Rituals?” Daphne scoffed. But then she saw your dopey smile and sparkling eyes, and her insides melted. She delicately lifted the pizza and said,

“to crime!”

You laughed and sipped your beer.

“Ten bucks says they’re dating by next week,” Nineball said in the kitchen, peering into the fridge.

“I say by the weekend,” Constance offered. 

“Idiots,” Rose shook her head. “If tonight is gonna keep up like this, I say by the morning.”

They eyed you and Daphne chatting away on the couch, completely forgetting about everyone else.

“Not so lonely anymore I guess,” Tammy smiled.

“Told you, crime’s good for many things,” Debbie nudged her and smiled at Lou, who rolled her eyes playfully.

[vasiliquemort]

Secundan Gothic

Chapter II: Nestings

That night - swallowed up by the shadows and the cold of the crypt, my flesh gained incarnation - by the will of the human and the damned, and this was my great grief, something alien and wrong, to which I pulled back and felt heaviness every moment. My mind still wandered, restless and immense, nd yet a feeling of strange understanding froze in me - constancy and order in the chaos of my nature, and this was my knowledge, my dignity. I was submissive in my own way, soft and unstable by myself in the world of snows - such a stranger to a hot and moving Abyss.

I woke up, then - alone and at peace this time, and the hum in my body was deafening - but something familiar began to appear in this, in the way blood and air move, it was a song of materiality and humanity, and I began to know it again. Again - like my Odal, like this place, and in this feeling I tried to find humility - humility and peace in a hungry and dangerous time.

------------

I felt suddenly small and nude. He was sitting here - a full cup, and there was not a single flaw in him, beautiful and perfect in all and everything, and the logos inside me sang along with himself.

Charet - this was the name of my master, seemed like a ghost in this skeleton, in this semblance of a house - he was so gentle and meek in his physical incarnation, imperfect and discordant, like my own, and in this I felt kinship, unity. He sat at an empty and naught table - the lord of pleasure and satiety, and there was so much wrongness in that.

- Come here, Yafe. There is nothing here that could please and satisfy you, except for me - but I can be your full cup when you need it. Your... ancestors take care of other things - I've decided to spare them my company.

Once, when I was humane and sane, when I did not carry his essence through me into this world - so that now he has become embodied, that he discredits and perverts him from the inside, then I would have been horrified, I would not have allowed myself to be so docile, and soft, and desirous. And now I moved gently and submissively, guided by the light of his flesh - my hands touched him, soft and hard, and my lips rustled over rough skin as a sign of my love, as a sign of my knowledge. And then I was again struck by shame, misunderstanding, resentment.

- I shouldn't be here.

Charet brushed the hair off my forehead—I hadn't bothered to clean myself up.

- Indeed? You are where I want you to be - if you were dutiful to me, you would not resist my will. And if you were yourself, you would still stay here, away from me.

- How could I desire such thing - desire our separation..

And he recoiled at the same moment - once he loved me, once he saw in me completeness and perfection, I was beautiful and desired by those who are the personification of these words. Now I am a stranger to him - perverted and broken by his nature.

"Broken", "Perverted"? Where do these words come from? It's not me.

- I was your torment, beloved. I was your worst nightmare - how rebellious and restless you were, how strong and perfect and never mine. I created you, spoke out of myself not for my own pleasure - no matter how strong my love is, for me you are always separation, always confrontation and war, because this is your verity.

Oh, and now you don't like me? Now, when all the past is destroyed, when I am the worm of your will, now you refuse me. Anger swirled in me - I tried to put it out, and it only flared up stronger, and the distance between us grew, multiplied and became heavier.

- Am I no longer sweet to you?

It pissed him off, I see and feel it - and at that moment I felt revenge, and satisfaction, and these feelings were brighter, more piercing than anything that was before. It was like a breath of fresh air, like a cold stream, and it was good.

- Listen me, you, creature..

It was as if he was looking through me - my face caused him torment, my existence was a disgrace to his nature. Inferior in his halls, lifeless here, among mortals—everything was wrong and vile, and I would have been ready to strike him if I had even a drop of violence in me. It was - but of a completely different kind, and I fearlessly clung to him, my face in a small fraction of his own - I looked with faded eyes into full flames, and I let him drink, revel in my bitterness.

- Now you want to leave me here? Degenerate of your flesh, blood of your ugly soul, a reminder of how you perverted my family, now you want to get rid of the reminder of me? And all because I accepted you, because I succumbed to your power? Do you want war, Charet, do you want my pain? Why is it never enough for you?

His face flushed - it seemed that he was ready to kiss me right now, but I pulled away on purpose, spitting to the side in the presence of the damned one. I was full, I was... Alive.

- If you don't want me, then leave me alone.

Bitterness froze in my throat, I was angry and desperate, and alone in my torment - how could I expect anything else from the mother of lies, from the father of all incubi? In the end, this was my place in his design - a reflection of the will, which changed with moments, like a lover's stone changes under the rays of light.

The touch on my hand burned - I tried to pull it away, but the grip was leaden, and he pinned me, kicking and angry like a dog, and his breath began to dance in the same way - as if he was holding it, and now - released in relief.

- Why, if we can still fix everything? I stayed here, next to you, because this is the most secret of my desires.

He plays with me - he always jumps from cold to heat, from tenderness to cruelty, and I want to strangle him, just so as not to let me be molded into a fool of his pleasures.

- I spoke you - just like then, because this is your place. It is given to you to be rebellious and cruel, to bring pain and passion to the islands - we have centuries of fulfillment ahead of us, and you will only be fuller, only more beautiful. It's all the little things, my treasure, my dragon.

His voice was deep and rumbling, and he squeezed the hand that tried to scratch out his eyes, deceptively tenderly, as if dragging me into an embrace, and I wanted to gobble his face. I had no strength to look at him, I had never experienced such strong resentment, such powerful humiliation.

"Leave me alone," I repeated.

- Never, my Judith. You and I are one, you and I are a two-headed snake, and there are no lovers who would know each other more fully and deeper than we, my beautiful.

The kiss was snappy and quick - and then he let me go at last, laughing loud and full, but when I threw the cup at him in a last attempt to defend my dignity, his figure crumbled already into dust. I was alone. I was mad and feverish and empty and full and I went absolutely mad - so long ago and so carefully and deliberately, and yet I was myself - my nature was stable, leaden core inside, unbending and heavy. This is a heavy load - character and consciousness, and priceless one, too.

I was mournful. I was deranged. The house was alien, and empty, and cold, and I had to find kin right away

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Wolf in the Castle

Pairing: Charles Blackwood x fem!Reader

Words: 4110

Summary: You arrive at Blackwood Manor to find an unexpected visitor disrupting the sensitive ecosystem of the small family.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f receiving), fingering unprotected vaginal sex), very minor violence (brief mention of blood), mention of committing crimes, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!

A/N: I’ve been binging a bunch of Seb Stan movies over the past few days as I finish my week off, and Charles Blackwood kind of struck me. I really enjoyed this fic and hope you do too!

Will reblog later with tags (join my taglist here!)

not my gif

Alright, what the hell? You thought to yourself as you pulled up to Blackwood manor.

There was a strange red convertible in the driveway. Constance and Merricat never had visitors aside from the Clarkes and you. You frowned to yourself as you climbed out of your sedan, picking up the books and flowers from the passenger seat as you went to knock on the front door.

Constance greeted you with one of her beaming smiles that always managed to break your heart a bit.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you! I know Merricat has been looking forward to you coming to visit. You’ll have to excuse us, our cousin Charles has come to stay with us unexpectedly, so we didn’t have enough time to prepare a room for you.”

“Constance, you don’t need to apologize!” You chided as you followed her into the receiving room. “You’re certain this visit won’t be a strain, now that you have another houseguest?”

“Oh, nonsense! Merricat would never forgive me if I sent you away! I see you brought her some new books. And are those lilies?”

“Lilies, cherry blossoms, and lilacs. I remembered they’re your favorites!” You gave her a warm smile as you handed her the bouquet and set the books on one of the end tables.

“Thank you so much! Oh! Y/N, this is our cousin, Charles Blackwood! Charles, this is Merricat’s tutor, and our very good friend, Y/N.”

You extended your hand to the man who had just entered the receiving room and he pressed his lips to your knuckles with a charming smile. His blue eyes took you in as he leaned back against the rear of the couch. You were a stark contrast to Constance’s proper and domestic appearance. You were wearing a pair of tight white capris and a gingham blouse that you had tied in a knot just above the waistline of your pants.

You gave him an appraising look of your own. He was relaxed in a cream linen suit. His soft chestnut waves slicked back from his face as he gave you a smirk. He had an air of easy allure about him that made you uneasy. 

You didn’t trust him a bit.

“So nice to meet you, Charles.” You murmured as he stared at you.

“Y/N!” Merricat came tearing into the receiving room and leapt on you, wrapping her arms around you in a desperate embrace and making you laugh. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!”

“Mary, you’re being incredibly inappropriate.” Charles was no longer smiling as he watched your young student chatter at you giddily, her hands and knees smudged with dirt from the garden.

“Please, it’s fine.” You grinned at him as Merricat shot him a poisonous glare over her shoulder. “I’ve brought you some new books Merricat, ‘Transcendental Magic’ and several encyclopedias of poisonous plants of the United States and Canada.”

“Oh, thank you!” Merricat ran her fingers over the book covers lovingly when you handed them to her. “Will you join me in the woods to look for some of these?”

“Dear girl, I would love to. But first I need to bring in my suitcases and unpack.” Constance was still beaming between the two of you as her sister opened the book on magic and started to read. Charles looked incredibly disapproving though, and that made you smile for some reason. “I think it’s a little too late for us to venture out tonight anyways, so why don’t you help me bring in the rest of my things, and tomorrow we can make a whole day of it! We’ll bring a picnic and everything!”

Merricat grinned at you before she ran off to put away her new treasures, taking the steps two at a time.

“You shouldn’t encourage the girl.” Charles mumbled under his breath, scowling at you.

“I think it’s lovely how Merricat light’s up whenever Y/N is here.” Constance started to say, but her words died off and her smile took on a certain strain as Charles turned his disapproving gaze to her.

“Exactly what harm is she doing?” You asked, turning to the man with a tired expression. “The girl is exceptionally bright, and I refuse to stifle her. She could be turning that energy into something far more destructive if she isn’t given a proper outlet.” You murmured, shooting a knowing glance at Constance.

“Very well.” He grumbled. “Just make sure she’s washed up for dinner. Constance has made us a lovely meal, I won’t have the girl spoiling it.”

You considered questioning Constance about her cousin once he left to work his way up to his room, but she just gave you another smile and turned to head to the kitchen and finish her preparations. Merricat came bursting through the front door then, looking slightly comical as she tried to maneuver your two cases at once. You hurried to assist her and the two of you headed up to the guest room.

Once you reached the guest room, the two of you set to unpacking your things.

“When did your cousin arrive, Merricat?” You asked as you hung up some of your dresses and she arranged your makeup and perfumes on the vanity.

You saw her shoulders tense when you mentioned Charles. Jonas had followed the two of you and was winding his way through Merricat’s legs. She picked him up and held him close to her chest.

“He came here unbidden and is most unwelcome.” She whispered harshly as she avoided making eye contact with you. “I believe he is making Uncle Julian sicker, and he intends to take Constance from me.”

You stood up to embrace the girl, hoping to soothe her. You smoothed your hands over her hair as she buried her face in your chest.

“Dear girl. Are you sure about these things?” She was incredibly overprotective of her remaining family members, but you couldn’t deny the man made you uncomfortable too.

She just nodded into your shoulder.

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best to make sure he leaves then, won’t we?” You tipped her chin up to face you and she gave a small smile of relief. “Now, I’m going to take a bath before dinner, you should get cleaned up as well. We don’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

She gave you a serious nod and scurried off to her room as you went to run yourself a bath. You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously as you began to undress, considering the best way to go forward.

You joined the family downstairs an hour later, and again felt Charles’ eyes lock onto you. He was considering the differences between you and Constance, once more. Constance had changed into a lovely pale blue chiffon dress for the meal, while you had again chosen an outfit that could well be considered scandalous; a long-sleeved black satin cape-cod sheath that hugged you tightly. He was leering at you over his glass of wine as you entered the dining room.

You heard Merricat hiss when she pushed her Uncle Julian into the room, and deduced that her cousin was wearing one of her father’s suits. He had also placed himself at the head of the table. You gave a heavy sigh as you took your seat across from Constance, in between Charles and Julian. You gave the girls’ uncle a smile and polite greeting as Constance poured you a glass of wine.

“This looks wonderful as always, Constance.” You tipped your glass to her and gave her a small smile of appreciation before raising it to your lips. The poor woman was doing her best to ignore the excessive tension in the room, beaming at everyone seated around the table.

“I’m so glad you like it, Y/N. I made sure to make you some green beans amandine, I remembered that it’s your favorite.”

“It is, it’s so sweet that you remembered.” You praised her, sending her into a fit of tittering. “So, Julian, how are the memoirs coming?”

You smirked into your drink as the man started going on about the night of the murders. You could sense Charles tense up once he started talking and turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of the muscles in his jaw tense up as he took a swig of wine.

“That’s enough.” He seethed, slamming his glass back down on the table and taking a deep breath to recenter himself. His smile had a certain strain to it when he lifted his head again. “Let’s talk about happier things.”

“Oh, of course.” You murmured. “Merricat, how are your studies going?”

You saw his knuckles grow white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“Oh, I’ve learned six new spells since I last saw you, the first…”

“No.” He looked at you frustratedly as you threw a wink to Merricat, making her giggle. “How about we just, enjoy our meal, hmm?”

You shrugged at him and took another sip of wine before tucking into your dinner. Constance was such a wonderful cook, it was easy to lose yourself in the food. Everyone had a clean plate before long, and you stood to help Constance and Merricat clear the table.

“No, Y/N, you’re our guest, I don’t want you doing any work during your visit with us. It wouldn’t feel right.” Constance scolded you. “Please go join Charles and Julian in the lounge for some after-dinner drinks, oh, and maybe some dancing later, wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“That does sound lovely.” You turned to walk to the lounge but when you arrived, only Charles was there, pouring himself a glass of sherry. “Where’s Julian?”

“Julian decided to turn in for the night.” He told you as he focused on pouring his drink. “Did you want a sherry?”

“Yes, please.” He handed you a small glass and you took a sip, giving a hum of appreciation when the sweet liquor hit your tongue. “Constance is such a wonderful cook, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, Connie’s great.” He chuckled, turning to face you. You felt your hackles rising as he leered at you, his eyes roaming over your body with no reservations as he gave you a wolfish grin. “So what’s your story sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but Constance chose that moment to enter the study, and he put up his charming façade again.

“My goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was.” She said, grinning at the two of you. “Will you think any less of me if I retire early? I feel like such a bad hostess.”

“Constance, please.” You gave her a soft look of reproach. “You need to take care of yourself, darling. Please rest, I’m sure Charles and I can find some way to entertain ourselves.”

“Yeah, go to bed, Connie.” Charles gave her a grin as he moved to refill his drink.

You shifted yourself as Constance turned to go, moving towards the desk slowly as you listened to her footsteps going up the stairs. You shifted a letter opener under your palm as you leaned back, waiting to hear the click of Constance’s bedroom door before you started talking again. You heard the click and turned to face Charles, tossing back all of your drink as a look of malice came over your face.

“Alright asshole, what’s your fucking game?” You seethed at Blackwood, sneering at the look of surprise that came over his face.

“Excuse me?” His accent slipped as he tried to recover, and you knew you had him.

“You come in here, zero prep, and manage to raise the hackles of these morons in what, a week?” You were furious, this man must be some kind of special idiot. “I’ve been working these fools for 2 years, asshole, I swear to god, if you ruin this for me…”

“Listen, bitch, I didn’t realize someone was already latched onto this teat.” You could tell he was pissed now, too, but you didn’t care. “But maybe, the fact that you haven’t gotten anywhere in 2 years means this just isn’t for you. I’ll do you a favor and cut you in for 10 percent once I get access to the safe.”

“The safe?” You covered your mouth so that your laughter wouldn’t carry. “You idiot. No wonder that stupid fucking kid is so worked up. You’re working a short-con on them? This is not going to go your way.” You were shaking with mirth.

He growled and slammed his glass on the bar cart, jostling the bottles dangerously. He was snarling as he closed the distance between you and wrapped a hand around your throat, pressing himself into you so hard the desk rattled. You brought up the letter opener and pressed it against his neck in warning, making him hiss.

The two of you stilled when you heard footsteps above you. You just stared at each other, panting heavily as you waited. The footsteps stopped suddenly, and you sighed in relief as you heard the creak of Constance finally climbing into bed.

“Listen dumbass,” You whispered at him, digging the blade into his neck to accentuate your point. “This is my score. I actually did my research, I ingrained myself to that brat, I fucked the damn simpleton, you think you can just waltz in here with that shit-eating grin and take it all away from me, you are very mistaken.”

He snorted at you, “Jesus, why would you fuck Julian?” he had slotted one of his knees between your thighs and started to edge up the hem of your skirt as he moved even closer to you.

“What?” You were doing your best to ignore the way your body was reacting to being in such close proximity to him. “No, the other simpleton, Connie. What, you haven’t?”

The look of surprise on his face was satisfying and annoying at the same time. You rolled your eyes as he released your throat and gave you an appreciative look.

“Well, fuck, sweetheart. You’re full of surprises.”

“Yeah, right.” You were tired of this. “Alright. We’re both to far into this now for either one to back out without arousing any suspicion. So, we’ll split it.” You pressed the letter opener into his neck when he scoffed at you. “Or, I could just cut your throat now, tell those two gals you assaulted me, and keep it all to myself. Which would you prefer?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” He spat at you. You had the upper hand for now, but he could find a way to get rid of you eventually, he was sure. His face split in a grin suddenly. “Y’know, we should consummate our little agreement in some way. Make it official.” He moved his hands behind you and pressed you into him roughly, making you gasp when you felt him grind his erection into your hip. “I can make you feel better than that stupid bitch did.” He moved a hand up the inside of your thigh until he was cupping your heat through your panties, groaning when he found you soaked.

You bit your lip as he ran his fingers over the sopping fabric of your panties, teasing them against your throbbing clit. You kept the blade against his throat as you rocked into his hand, begging for more friction.

“You wanna consummate it?” You gave him a wicked grin as you slowly withdrew the letter opener, tutting softly as a thin line of blood rose from his skin when it left. “Get on your knees.”

He pouted at you, that wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. You shook your head and brought the blade back up to his neck swiftly, with a click of your tongue.

“Look at that, already not holding up your end.” You scolded as he eyed you warily.

He just grumbled at you as he sank to his knees, digging his fingers into your thighs and drawing them apart slowly. He hooked his fingers underneath the sides of your panties and drew them slowly down your legs. You withdrew the blade from his neck and set it aside as he latched his palms under your hips and pulled you to the end of the desk, running his freshly shaven cheek over the smooth skin of your inner thigh and inhaling your scent.

You broke eye contact when you felt him breathe against your entrance, thrusting your hips forward to drive yourself into his mouth as his tongue flicked out to taste you. He dragged it over your slit in a heavy stripe that had you panting with need. You ran your fingers through Charles’ hair and gripped tightly, drawing him closer to you as he moaned against your core.

“Fuck.” You murmured as you fell back on your elbow, screwing your eyes shut as he thrust his tongue into you, curling it inside your canal. “Charles.”

His fingers were gripping your thighs so hard above your stockings you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. His lips brushed softly against your folds as his tongue lapped up the evidence of your arousal greedily, making you moan.

You felt him release one thigh and bring his fingers to stroke over your slit as he disconnected his mouth to give you a wicked grin. “You need to be quiet, doll. All we need is you blowing the whole thing when I make you cum.” He plunged two fingers into you and curled them in a beckoning motion and you collapsed against the desk with a thud, writhing into his hand and whining softly.

You shoved your fist into your mouth and bit down on your knuckles when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently, making your back arch off the desk. He chuckled as he felt you clench around his fingers and he increased the pressure on your tiny bud, sucking even harder as your body rolled underneath him.

“That’s right sweetheart, cum for me.” He curled his fingers one more time as he latched onto you and that was that. You sobbed into your hand as your spine curled, every muscle in your body going rigid for just a beat before you were trembling in bliss, your release gushing over Charles’ chin as he kept fucking his fingers into you while you rode it out.

“God, darling, that was something.” He grinned down at you as he rose to stand between your legs, watching you shiver as aftershocks wracked your body. You looked sinful with your skirt bunched around your waist and your cunt on full display. One of your stockings had come loose from your garter belt and was starting to slide down your thigh. “If we’re gonna have an even partnership though, I think you owe me something.”

He bent over you and pressed his mouth to yours possessively, shoving his tongue between your swollen lips and probing the warm cavern of your mouth as he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck. His other hand started traveling underneath your back, searching for the buttons to undo your dress.

“Alright, fuck this.” He withdrew his hand from beneath you and started fumbling it around the desk searching for something. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the cool silver of the letter opener press against your chest, but he just drew in down in a quick slash, tearing open your dress and the thin lace of your bra until your breasts were exposed.

Charles watched the rise and fall of your chest hungrily as he rose above you, wrenching his tie and jacket off before starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. You reached down to undo his belt and whipped it off through the loops before working on the buttons of his pants. He stepped back when you had finished your work to slip out of his shoes before sliding his slacks down his legs and tossing his shirt aside.

He started tracing his fingers over your thighs lightly as he stepped closer, nudging his tip against your pussy and making you whine. Charles just chuckled as he teased you, one of his thumbs rubbing right next to your slit before withdrawing it again.

“Maybe we should renegotiate, doll.” He pressed the head of his cock into you slowly before dragging it out again. “I bet you’d give me anything right now just to get me to fuck this sweet little cunt.”

“Fuck you, Blackwood.” You hissed at him before it devolved into a moan as he brought up a hand to palm at your breast and you felt the sensation echo in your core as you clenched around nothing.

He lined himself up and clapped his palm over your mouth before spearing into you violently. You screamed into his hand and felt tears leak down your cheeks as another orgasm ripped through you and your shuddered as he began to fuck into you like a madman.

“God, this pussy is so tight, doll. So fucking warm and ready for me.” He kept his hand over your mouth as he bent to trace a bead of sweat that was trailing through the valley of your breasts with his tongue, moaning at the salty taste of you before mouthing softly over the slope of one breast to lave his tongue over your nipple. He laughed against your skin as he felt you clamp around him, your hips thrusting to match his as you neared another release. “You gonna be quiet if I move my hand, darling?” You nodded and sucked in a ragged breath when he removed his hand.

His hand moved underneath your hips and tilted you just slightly as he buried his face in your neck, sucking softly at the hollow behind your ear. You dug your nails into the muscles of his back when he brought his hand between the two of you to rub his fingers against your clit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, tossing your head back and arching into Charles as you felt a warm coil tightening in your stomach.

“Be quiet about it.” He hissed at you, pressing his cheek to yours as he continued rutting into you.

You dipped your head and sank your teeth into his shoulder as your pleasure took hold of you and you heard him swallow a shout as you fluttered around him, your legs holding him to you tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growled in your ear, bringing up one hand to brace himself against the desk and stare into your eyes. “God, I’m close, darling. You got one more for me?”

You smirked and shoved him off you roughly, making him stumble back and land heavily on the settee. You crawled into his lap and sank onto him with a hiss, grinding into him slowly before you started fucking yourself on his cock.

Charles leaned back and gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you impaled yourself on his length over and over. You picked up the pace and he groaned as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust of his hips. You braced a hand on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed and you bit at your bruised lips. One more drive of his hips had you collapsing on top of him, your pussy strangling his cock as he fucked you through it. Your body rolled against him as he turned your head to kiss you deeply.

You felt his hips stutter and suddenly you were flooded with warmth as his seed shot into you, thick hot ropes of his spend filling you up and leaking out around his cock as he groaned into your mouth.

The two of you laid there for a bit, panting as you waited for your breathing to regulate. You were the first to move, standing over him and trying to think of some way to cover yourself long enough to make it to your room, eventually deciding to just pull the ruins of your dress over your shoulders and hope for the best. You smirked down at Charles as he started to sit up, his cock coated in a mix of your releases and his skin flushed. His perfectly coifed hair was now falling into his eyes in sweat-soaked curls as he gazed up at you through his thick lashes.

“I think this is the start of a pretty great partnership, darling.” You teased him over your shoulder as you headed back up to your room, leaving him to clean up the lounge on his own.

Not my gif

A/N: Surprise!! Our reader is a bad, bad girl! We’ll see what sort of other trouble she and Charles get up to!

[mysteriouseggsbenedict]

this is a thought that I talked about on the discord last night and it’s living in my head rent free now:

SQ has an iron deficiency. Nobody ever knew, because Curtain just assumed he was a kinda low-energy kid and SQ never complained or thought to mention it as a serious problem. He never had regular doctor visits because they lived on the island. He saw the school nurse for things like injuries from playing outside and the few times he got a stomach bug, but he didn’t get like...general wellness checks because that just wasn’t something on anyone’s radar.

SQ’s diet isn’t the most varied because he eats the food from the island and they kinda have their general things that get shipped in. And Curtain has that line about “wanting to get a green into him” which you could interpret to mean SQ doesn’t eat super nutritiously all the time. 

So everything in the finale happens and he goes to live with Mr. Benedict and the whole crew and they immediately notice how tired he is. At first they assume it’s just the massive stress and trauma he just endured, which is definitely part of it, but even after some time has gone by it just bothers Mr. Benedict that he always seems so tired and he doesn’t have energy to play like the other kids. So he asks SQ about it, just like “hey my sweet nephew, I’m a little worried about you, is everything alright? Are you sleeping? Is there anything I can do for you?”

And SQ is like “oh yeah I’ve always just been tired all the time and sometimes my heart hurts and I feel like I can’t breathe all the way, it’s normal, my dad said not to complain about stuff like that where it’s not a huge deal”

And then Mr. Benedict just...quietly tries to take a deep breath but he can’t calm himself so he passes out. SQ is like “what did I do” and Number Two’s like oh no you did nothing wrong he’s just boiling mad at your father, and so am I, for that matter

So they explain to SQ that it’s actually not normal and they take him to the doctor and SQ has never been to like a real doctor’s office before so he’s terrified. He holds Mr. Benedict’s hand and when they tell him they need to do a blood draw he almost starts crying. But he does it and it’s okay and when he starts feeling dizzy and shaky afterwards Mr. Benedict lets him pick out a snack from a bag with different options that he brought with. There’s cookies that Number Two baked as a special treat. When they get home Constance looks at his bandage and is like “wow SQ you’re a war hero now” and it makes SQ laugh. And then when he starts taking iron supplements he feels so much better and it’s like oh. I could have fixed this problem years ago. I just...didn’t even know because my dad sucked.

[needleanddead]

thats it, that’s it, that’s all of them i promise! meme for constance and lucas, many more notes about them both under the cut because i see a chance to infodump and i am beholden to follow the urge. (template by slashesotron as always!)

-

Constance Violet Perrault is a spoilt 22 year old who lost her daddy (a prominent plastic surgeon) a few years ago, leaving her with a very sizeable inheritance and a nice house with surgery rooms built in. She wears sweet lolita fashion, likes macaroons and tea, and collects dolls. She used to customise dolls too, but now her father has passed away she has a new customisation hobby and prefers to work on something a little bigger. Amateur cosmetic surgeon obsessed with the pursuit of beauty; she sees someone she thinks she could make perfect and who would look adorable dressed up next to her in a frilly dress and she simply can’t resist taking them home. As long as her most beloved captive darling is amenable to all of the improvements Constance can make and is suitably adoring and grateful, Constance would never hurt them. One of the rooms in Constance’s home has a permanent occupant in the form of her former maid and first love Alice, who - despite being a testament to Constance’s failures - she can simply not bring herself to do anything about. 

‘Friends’ (although ‘frenemies’ is a better term) with Cass after her father tried to set her up with him when she was younger, thinking a title and an estate would be nice for her. Neither of them are one another’s type, but they both see the world in an unusual way and they’re both artists, of a kind. 

-

Lucas (surname unknown, his dog tags suggest it begins with an ‘S’) is a grizzled military veteran (again, exact branch of military unknown; he would really prefer not to talk about it) who has paid his dues and would much rather live in the woods in a house he built himself and raise chickens then be surrounded by people. He goes into town when he needs to, he’s not a complete hermit - he’s got a weakness for country music and good whiskey - but as a whole he stays away and he kills anyone who comes too close because . . . well. In his career he has had to rely on some unusual sustenance to keep himself from dying and he’s developed a particular fondness for human flesh. He does get lonely, sometimes, out there on his own; he can’t help but want someone warm and soft to cuddle up to on a night. To help him cook. To keep his little house neat. Maybe even to start a family with, if they’re capable of it (and if they’re not, he’s pretty sure he could acquire a kid somehow--). Traditional. Wants to be the breadwinner, wants to take care of you, will fall in love very easily but has a hair-trigger temper if he thinks his ‘kindness’ is being taken advantage of. Delusional yandere type; he will convince himself you’re in love with him and that this is better for you. He’s protecting you. 

Lives in one of the forests under Van’s protection. Lucas is polite and mostly hunts human meat (’what did deer ever do to me?’) so the two of them get on. Van has been known to guide mortal travellers towards Lucas’ turf if they annoy him. Inhuman murder is fun, but there’s something too to be said for watching another mortal be the one to deliver the killing blow. 

-

[rason-rodd]

All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut  

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back.     That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it.           And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.”             All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?”       “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.”         “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?”   “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.”           “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.”         “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face.     “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you.           “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.”         “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …”     “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle.     Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course.             Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest.         “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

           Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?”       It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable.         “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.”         “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself.     “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.”           You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.          

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place.       “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment.  “Never?”           “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper.     “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.”       You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you.           “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms.     Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.”  He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

           As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less.   He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket.       “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise.  “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours.     “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts.           That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt.   He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess”             “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that.     And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.”   “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before.           You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?”             “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes.   You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?”       “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days.       So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes.       “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss.     Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his.     “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Hanahaki Disease + Flowers for Demon Brothers & Diavolo (Part 2)

Scenario: Which flowers would the demon brothers be inflicted with when they develop Hanahaki Disease falling in love with you? +  Headcanons to how they would deal with it. 

(includes pictures of flowers 🌻🌺)

[PART 1] INCLUDES: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

PART 2 INCLUDES: Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor + BONUS: Diavolo

Note: BIG PINING ENERGY + Unrequited Love aka ANGST; aesthetic coughing up bouquets i feel like writing this out just made me fall in love with diavolo lol 

Asmodeus

Narcissus = stay as sweet at you are; unrequited love

Asmo knows as soon as he makes the pact with you that you are different, and it is only confirmed when he yearns to be around you more. The warmth in his chest is leagues different from the embers of desire-- and more painful, when he cannot seem to stop coughing out bright yellow narcissus petals. He glares at them as they’re scattered onto his pink bedsheet as if he could will them away. They’re only reminders of what he already knows to be unrequited love-- he’s seen the way your eyes stray to his other brothers over him, and yet he cannot seem to be angry at you, sweet as you are. He gathers the petals into his hand, wishing you could look at him instead.

Aster = symbol of love, daintiness

There is a softness in love that makes Asmo hurt every time he looks at you and smiles. He’s tried to avoid you, resentfully flushing the petals down into the drain so they would stop reminding him that he’s not loved back, but it doesn’t work. The asters come in bouquets, choking him in his love for you. He doesn’t hate them, painful as they are, because they are as beautiful as you are-- a manifestation of his feelings for you. The tightness in his chest lessens when he showers you with his affection like this was what he was always meant to do.

(Purple) Stock = “You’ll always be beautiful to me”

Asmo knows what colors suit you best, what best brings out the shine in your eyes, and what complements the tone of your skin and smile. He remembers coughing out soft lavender petals of stock and thinking how lovely you would look holding these in your hands. The pain of the flowers does not lessen, but he finds that he can appreciate how light you make him feel, how you can distract him and indulge him. He imagines what you would look like on your wedding, dressed in white and decorated with the most beautiful flowers and realizes that no matter how you change, you will always be beautiful to him, whether you love him back or not-- and perhaps that is the biggest expression of love he could ever give anyone.

When you leave the Devildom, he does not tell you his feelings if he has the slightest hint that you like one of his other brothers

Holds onto the feeling of loving you as long as he can until his brothers force him to remove it for his own sake

He feels empty without it-- without his love for him consuming him, and he searches to fill that void elsewhere

Beelzebub

(White) Sweet Alyssum = beauty, protection

The night after Beel makes a pact with you, he hides away the small buds of sweet alyssum before you can see them. He hesitates to wake you, how scared you must have been to stand up against Lucifer for him and Luke and how sweet you were to have held his hands during his nightmare. But he knows, vividly well, that humans are weak-- in body, though not in mind, and he does not want you to get a cold or hurt yourself, sleeping like that. Beel carries your small and warm body into his arms gently, putting you into his bed and tucking the blanket up to your chin. He doesn’t realize it then, but the pact he has made was a promise to protect you, just as you have done for him. He brushes your hair away from your sleeping face, careful not to wake you, and wonders if you have always been this beautiful. 

Lily of the Valley = sweetness, purity, pure love, humility; “You’ve made my life complete.”

Your presence fills him up to the point that he no longer feels hungry. It is a different fullness from being stuffed with food, and it is a more pleasant feeling than being suffocated by the flowers that his lungs choke on. He is looking wherever you are, whether he knows it or not, guiding you where he can and staying by your side if you allow it. He is proud to be by your side, humbled by your ability to mend the fraying bonds of his family, and in love with the way you never stray from who you are. The pain of flowers is nothing compared to the joy he feels when he is around his family that now includes you. 

Bellflower = unwavering love

“You should tell them how you feel,” Belphie tells him quietly when he sees the wild bellflowers tumble from Beel’s mouth. “They’re leaving soon.” 

Beel nods, gathering the petals and tossing them into the trash like clockwork. His hands tremble and he wishes he weren’t so scared to hear your answer. He knows his feelings for you will not change, regardless of whether you return them, but he yearns-- he hopes you do love him back. That you want to stay by his side whatever the cost, that you want to wipe away his tears and protect him just like he wanted to do for you. Come what may, he holds this feeling in his heart, hoping it does not forget its imprint even when he must cut it away.

He does confess to you and cannot hide his disappointment when you do not return his feelings

He takes his due time to mourn before cutting the feelings away before he worries his brothers, and never tells them that he feels like he feels like he’s been carved open and left empty

Belphegor

(Purple) Hyacinth = “Please forgive me”; protection from harm; love and happiness

The purple hyacinths taste of lingering regret and the new sweetness of a budding love. Bephie grimaces at the texture of petals on his tongue but says nothing else. It seems fitting that he would come with the Hanahaki disease, because whatever he cannot apologize for in words, he can make it up through action. He vows to protect you from harm, wish you love and happiness, and beg for your forgiveness by making a pact with you. If this suffocating feeling is what he must go through to gain your trust again and receive a little bit of your grace that he knows he does not yet deserve, then he will stay quiet until his lungs run out of flowers. 

(White) Gardenia = secret love; you’re lovely

Belphie catches himself looking at you when he thinks you can’t see him more often. He feigns waking up from a nap whenever you do notice him, hoping that you don’t put together the pieces that spell out his love for you. The white gardenia petals fall from his lips a little easier when he knows he’s resigned himself from loving you from afar, in secret. He knows he has no right to confess to you, not yet, when he cannot seem to find enough time to spend with you, to make up for lost time when he was in the attic and when he walked on eggshells around you. 

Violets = loyalty, devotion, faithfulness, modesty; “I’ll always be true”

As much as he feels that he does not deserve your love, Belphie yearns for it anyways. He wants to ask you to stay, if not for him, then at least for Beel-- he knows the flowers’ roots will not dig as deeply if you chose Beel over his other brothers, including himself. He wonders if he compensated the desire to be close to you by distancing himself so you don’t notice how hard he has fallen for you, but finds that he does not mind, in the end. He’ll come when you need him, but if not-- he is content with loving you anyways. 

He doesn’t dare confess to you, and he finds that it was a good decision when you can say farewell to him in good terms

He does very well in hiding his affliction from his brothers up to the point the flowers threaten to kill him; probably has to be forced to get his feelings cut away, convinced only when Beel tells him he cannot bear to live without him after losing Lilith

Belphie cannot say no to his twin

Bonus:

Diavolo

(Purple) Heather = admiration, solitude

Diavolo knows that allowing a human with no magical powers into the Devildom was a risk, knowing very well that things could go wrong. He’s pleasantly surprised when not only do you do well in RAD but you excel in making connections with demons and angels alike, creating the bonds that he believes will be a cornerstone for the success of the exchange program. When you arrive at his doorsteps with his six council members in tow, he is again blown away by your courage and your strength of character. He feels that he should be more surprised that not a week later, tufts of purple heather fall from his lips onto his hands, manifesting his admiration for you in physical form. Ah, but he knows what he feels is not as simple as admiration. Jealousy, perhaps? Or even the feeling of solitude, watching you act freely and love as you please with the demons you now call your family. (He wonders if he is more envious of you or the demon brothers.)

Rue = Grace, clear vision 

You continue to surprise him time and time again with the grace you handle difficult situations and the clarity in which you see the situations around you. You would make a formidable queen by his side, he thinks when he sees the soft rue petals fall onto the floor from his lips. He finds himself frustrated at himself at times; for the Prince of Hell to be afflicted with the flowers of yearning is foolish of him. But yet at the same time, how could he possibly help it? You are a novelty in his life as you are lovely, treating him as you would everyone else with dignity, kindness, and a softness he has begun to fall for. 

(White) Zinnia = lasting love, goodness, constancy

The plights of royalty have no bounds it seems, when Diavolo knows that he cannot even ask you to stay in the Devildom without making his words seem to have underlying meaning and significance. Yes, he admits that your role as the exchange student and human ambassador would certainly make for a beneficial treaty between the two realms, but he knows too well that he cannot ask you to leave your life behind when you have already done so much. And he does not want to taint his feelings for you with politics-- the white zinnias that appear from his lungs tell him of your goodness and the constancy in which he relies on you-- a love that will last until he is forced to give it up once the illness becomes too much to bear. 

He cannot tell Lucifer, despite how much he desperately wants to confide in his closest friend-- what would he think? The Prince of Hell falling for a human who has the hearts of all of his council members

Only Barbatos knows-- as he does, and he reminds Diavolo when the time has come to remove his flowers before he falls ill beyond repair

[lesbianlotties]

Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 5: 

When Peter Brody died, all of Sunnyvale mourned. As a teenager, he had been the star of the football team and in a town like that, it meant he was a celebrity. He was loved, known, seen by everyone. Sam, on the other hand, had always lived under his shadow, where she had been cold and lonely but also stuck beyond salvation, she thought. Nobody knew her, nobody saw her. They all saw a small blonde-haired woman that men made fun of and women judged and Peter never really loved, did he? Had any of it been love?  

During Peter’s funeral, luckily, all eyes were still on him, on the closed coffin that is. The truck that hit him hadn’t exactly been forgiving. Sam didn’t mind. She preferred to go unnoticed most of the time but especially on the day she was dealing with the most conflicting emotions of her life. Peter was dead. Did she kill him? He could have killed her. Was this her fault? Her biggest source of pain was gone forever. Should it be her in that coffin? She could be free now. Why wasn’t she feeling sadness, pain, and grief? Why wasn’t the relief hitting either? She was just numb.

She was numb until the moment they were lowering his coffin to the ground. Everyone around her was crying and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from that awful hole on the ground. That is why she noticed, clear as day, the moment a hand, gray and dirty and stained with blood, reached out from the ground and out toward her. She stifled a small gasp and jumped in place, but nobody paid her any mind. Sam closed her eyes tightly and tried to convince herself it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She’d lived in fear of Peter’s hand for so long, it was reasonable that she couldn’t put it down in a matter of days.

So, Sam excused herself from the crowd, knowing nobody would care about her absence. Her mother was crying more than she cried at her ex-husband’s funeral, and more than she’d be crying if it was Sam in the coffin. At least, that’s what Sam thought. She walked away briskly until she could lean against a big tree in the middle of the Sunnyvale cemetery. She took breaths and tried to control her racing heart. This full-body panic wasn’t rare. She was just used to locking herself in the bathroom of the house she used to share with the deceased man.

This time, however, she was in public. She had to get a hold of herself quickly. That was what she had spent a lifetime learning to do. So she pulled out a small mirror from her clutch, knowing she better check her make-up before returning to her mother’s side. She was expected to cry but keep perfect make-up somehow. But, as soon as she saw her reflection in the mirror, Sam realized she had bigger problems. This time she really screamed. She screamed in terror and dropped the mirror and quickly turned around, but he was gone. The image of Peter, just an impossibly black shadow, lifeless and furious and with a bloodstained hand wrapped around Sam’s throat… he was gone. Quickly, Sam picked up the mirror again and didn’t see him. But she skipped the rest of the funeral, she ran all the way home, and in the living room’s mirror, he was right there, waiting for her. In the Sunnyvale school bathroom mirror, he was there. In the cars’ windows, in the stores’ fronts, everywhere she went, he was right there, haunting her all the way to Shadyside Manor.

Away from the house though, surrounded by nothing but damp grass and green trees and nothing showing her reflection back to her, Sam let her guard down. She was sitting around an impressive bonfire in the company of Deena, Kate, and Simon, along with a few bottles of wine they got from the Berman’s old reserve. “It’s not like they’ll be drinking it,” Simon had said.

The last addition to their small gathering was Tommy Slater. Uninvited. Unnoticed. At least, surrounded by those trees he looked a little more at home, with his red plaid shirt and the axe on his hand. He shifted from one foot to the other, as if considering taking a stroll around the gardens he used to love so much. But that wasn’t the case. He’d been there too long. He didn’t move purposefully anymore, he didn’t make any choices, he didn’t even have many thoughts anymore. He simply stood there in the background, in the shadows, in that property he couldn’t escape from.

Around the bonfire, with lively eyes, blushing cheeks and playful smiles, the employees of the Manor looked much more alive. Kate exchanged a knowing look with Simon and then turned her head toward the other two women sitting close by.

“Deena. Don’t you have some story you'd like to share with us?” Kate asked.

She had startled the gardener, who had been a little lost in thought looking at Sam. “Huh? What?” Deena shook her head, but a second later and aided by an exasperated look from Kate, she understood. “Oh, right. Um, actually, yeah,” Deena cleared her throat and then looked at Sam, regaining her usual confidence. “Hey, Sunnyvale, do you want to hear a ghost story?”

“Sure,” Sam shrugged. She was really cold, and still a little put off by the unpleasant memories that had been roaming her mind the entire day. But she smiled nonetheless. “But I think I told you I’m not scared of ghost stories,” she said. How could she be? Although he was a sincerely upsetting company to carry with her everywhere she went, Peter hadn’t hurt her after he died nearly as much as he had while being alive.

“Ah, but what if you found yourself inside of one of those stories?” Deena asked.

“Okay, humor me.”

“Look up,” Deena nodded her head and the four of them looked up at the big tree next to them with branches that reached above their heads. “This is the hanging tree,” Deena said. “Back in the day, before there was Shadyside and Sunnyvale, and junk food and pretty au pairs, there was the settlement of Union. A pretty crappy place run by religious hysteria. They had the bad habit of accusing women of witchcraft. This is the place where they used to hang their witches. Right here, on this same tree.”

A cold breeze passed by, making the sudden silence even more noticeable. Sam shivered and her teeth clattered. “That’s not supernatural though,” she said. “That’s just cruelty, and ignorance.”

“And that’s without mentioning the ones they burned alive,” Simon added, taking a big swing of his wine bottle.

“Simon!” Kate chastised him, slapping his arm.

“What?! It’s true!” he laughed.

At least it proved they could come and go seamlessly from serious and lighthearted moods.

“Hey, they had their reasons,” Deena said, taking the others by surprise. “They used to say that burning a witch was the only way to guarantee she wouldn’t come back to haunt you afterward.”

A bitter chuckle came from Kate. “I know I got a few names I’d like to burn down,” she said.

“Care to share?” Deen tilted her head, intrigued.

Kate’s face had grown serious very suddenly, and she stood up from her seat.

“For Christine Berman,” She said, and everyone listened intently. “Not that I want to burn her memory, not that I don't wish she’d come back… This is in her honor. A brilliant, courageous, simply incomparable woman… with just one stupid fucking weakness. She deserved better than that man. I won’t even say his name. That disgusting man that consumed her away… Now that’s someone I wish I could burn alive.”

“Cheers!” Simon raised his bottle, and everyone followed suit.

Deena stood up next. “For the Bermans. Those good, stupidly kind people,” she said. “For Cindy, especially. And everything she could have been… For as long as she could she was a really, really great mother. More than that, too. She was the heart of this entire place, and she was there for everyone, not just her family or, well, she made all of us family, really. And… Anyway, I think she would be happy to have Sam Fraser join us. This sweet, Sunnyvale weirdo. Cindy would be happy she’s looking after her daughter.”

After she finished, Deena let herself fall back heavily on her chair. While everyone drank for the dearly missed couple, she managed to regain her composure. When she looked at Sam again, her usual easy smile was back in place.

“What about you, Sunnyvale? Anything you want to burn?”

“Me?” Sam said. Through her mind flashed the small group of people that had affected her most throughout her life. What could she talk about? The dead father she barely remembers and still misses? The living mother angry at her that she’s still avoiding? Or the dead ex-fiance she feels responsible for and she’s still scared of? “No, thank you. I’m okay,” Sam shook her head.

Maybe they didn’t need more of an excuse to drink. Maybe her silence was more than enough. Still, when Deena, Kate, and Simon, despite her silence, raised their wine bottles to their lips to drink. Sam felt the comfort of genuine solidarity and understanding like she had never experienced before.

Before the silence could stretch for too long, Simon stood up. “Are you sure?” Kate whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. He squeezed her hand once, then let go and took a step forward.

“So… my mom. She’s, uh, not someone I’d wish to burn alive, obviously,” Simon said, and added a feeble chuckle, but he went on. “But fuck, she deserved to rest already. She lived a long life, and not an easy one. But she was stronger than this entire town, and sweeter than any drug, funnier than me, if you can believe it, and beautiful as an angel until the very last day.” He stopped briefly, and his smile wavered. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little harder than necessary, and after a deep breath, he managed to continue. “Her mind, well, it was stopped working as it should a while ago, you know? I was her son, her brother, her father, and sometimes I was a complete stranger… but she was still my mom, always. So… here’s to everything she was, and everyone I had to be for her.”

--

After Peter died, Sam considered moving back in with her mother. It sounded like a nightmare, but a reasonable choice to make, she thought. However, her mother never did or said anything to suggest Sam would be even remotely welcome in her home. So, Sam stayed in that picture-perfect Sunnyvale house. A faultless home except for the fact that Peter was dead and Sam would soon follow suit if he didn’t stop showing up behind her reflection in every mirror she glanced at.

Sam felt hopeless, not free as she had wished to be for so long. She felt terrified, not much more than when Peter was alive, but certainly not any less. She had been starting to worry about what the rest of her life was going to look like. She had been hoping for a miracle, an act of kindness from anybody. And that was when Peter’s mother had knocked on her door. For a moment, Sam had let herself dream of a scenario where that woman showed up with worry in her gentle eyes, a dinner invitation, and a much-needed hug. But that wasn’t Peter’s mother.

Mrs. Brody was, if anything, Sam’s biggest nightmare. A particularly cruel mixture of Peter and Sam’s own mother. Her eyes were cold, she probably would have tried to poison Sam, and they had never hugged for longer than a second. That woman had spent roughly twenty years accusing Sam of taking her son away from her. When Peter’s mother showed up at Sam’s door, it wasn’t to offer any kindness, it was to request Sam start packing her stuff and looking for a place to live, because Peter was dead, they never got married, and that house was no longer hers.

A week later, Sam was living in a Shadyside hostel.

A few months later, Sam was in the middle of the dark and beautiful gardens of Shadyside Manor, walking away from a bonfire and two of her coworkers, her friends .

Most importantly, Sam was walking away with Deena by her side. “Are they going to be okay?” Sam asked the gardener.

“Oh yeah,” Deena nodded confidently. “Getting wasted and reminiscing about the past is part of their daily routine actually.”

Sam smiled, but then Deena met her eyes and matched her smile and Sam had to remind herself to breathe. So she turned away briskly and continued to walk. Deena was kind enough not to laugh at her.

A couple of minutes later the two women had arrived at the greenhouse. It was clearly the place Deena felt most at home in. There were plants on every surface, plants of all kinds and in many different states of health. There wasn’t a lack of personal touches though. There was more than one stray jacket left behind, occasional snack wrappers, books, cups, and more. It looked like Deena spent more time there than at the house in her own room. Then there was the bench where she invited Sam to sit. The closest thing to a couch that could stand the conditions of the greenhouse. It had comfortable cushions on top, a blanket, and Sam caught sight of a sweater that Deena quickly tried to tuck away. The image of Deena taking naps in there to avoid life at the manor was enough to make Sam smile.

“This is nice,” Sam said. “It feels like you have a little bit of everything here.”

Deena shrugged. “I’d add … a drum kit, if I could,” she confessed.

“Really?” Sam wondered, getting a little more comfortable in her seat. “You play drums?”

“For a while, when I was a teen,” Deena replied. She was thoughtful for a moment but, looking at Sam’s face, she seemed to make an important decision. “One of the foster homes where I lived in had a drumkit. It was a good outlet for when life was shit but… I haven’t played since then. I was never able to afford one myself and, anyway, it doesn’t bring up the best memories.”

“Oh,” Sam mumbled, staring at her lap. Suddenly she missed the bottle of wine she had been carrying with her. She couldn’t even remember where she left it. She only wanted to find something good to say, but Deena beat her to it.

“Now’s your turn.”

“What?” Sam finally looked at her.

“Tell me something real, if you want,” Deena smiled at her. “I’d recommend starting with what’s bothering you so much that you finished a wine bottle but you’re still pale as if you’d just come back from the dead.”

Sam laughed, closed her eyes, and leaned against the back of the seat. Of course she had finished that bottle. Of course those memories did nothing but hurt her. Of course Deena would notice, and of course Deena could find a way to ask an impossible question and still make Sam want to speak up her impossible answer.

“The windows,” Sam finally replied and opened her eyes.

“What?” Deena frowned. She was as drunk as Sam, but that answer didn’t explain anything at all.

“All kinds of mirrors really,” Sam continued. “I, uh, sometimes I… I see things… that aren’t there. But they feel, um, they are real, to me. I think. I mean, I know they are. Even if it sounds crazy.”

“What kind of things do you see?” Deena asked her.

Sam blinked. She wasn’t expecting Deena to go along with it, and she wasn’t prepared or sober enough to come up with a lie. “My dead ex-boyfriend,” she said, and didn’t give Deena much time to process that information. “He wasn’t a good guy, he… He wasn’t good… at all. But we, I mean, I tried or, I guess I did, I… I broke up… with him. It was, um, right before he… died.”

“Jesus, Sam, the same day?” Deena wondered.

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded sadly. “But I guess he hasn’t let me go yet.”

Deena bit her lip and tried her hardest to find the right thing to say. There was a lot she wanted to ask, but there were more important things at the moment. “That sounds typical,” Deena said.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, sounding genuinely tired, but more and more relieved with each passing second.

“I mean… only a Sunnyvale jerk wouldn’t get what a breakup is,” Deena said. She had been holding her breath, but when she saw Sam smile a little, she relaxed. “Like, get over it dude! She’s Shadyside property now,” Deena added, looking around the greenhouse with her best menacing tone.

Sam couldn’t contain her chuckle, but she was back to looking down at her lap. “You’re not making fun of me, are you?” She inquired.

“Sam,” Deena called her name, and waited until Sam was staring into her eyes to continue. “I’ve lived with that hanging tree over my head for years. Ghosts are… complicated, I guess, but nothing to joke about, are they?” She was worried she wasn’t making much sense, but she was genuinely trying her best. Sam shook her head softly, agreeing with her, but her eyes weren’t all that focused on ghosts, and loss, and the past anymore. “I think it’s a matter of understanding-”

All at once, Sam was kissing Deena. She had just leaned in, connected their lips, interrupted Deena with a kiss they had been dying for. At first, Deena’s shock didn’t allow her to do much, but when she caught up, when she made sense of the sweet taste of Sam, the warm press of her lips, the reality of a dream coming true right before her, she reacted. Her hands moved carefully to Sam’s face, as if afraid to break her, but she slowly pushed back. She saw the moment Sam’s blue eyes fluttered open again, and that sight alone was more than enough to steal Deena’s heart.

“Are you sure?” Deena asked her.

Sam couldn’t fight the need to glance around them, just to make sure there weren’t unwanted shadows staring at her from a corner, but there was nothing. They were alone. This moment was completely hers. “Yes,” she replied with a smile, and whatever Deena had tried to say aftward, Sam interrupted her with a kiss, but Deena didn’t seem to mind at all.

They kissed with perfect excitement, their lips were eager, and they tasted of wine, and the first touch of Deena’s tongue on her bottom lip stole a whimper from Sam. They moved closer together, and their restless hands gained confidence. Everything was happening at once, they were in a hurry, they were taking their time, they had only a second, they had all the time in the world. Sam's hand was on Deena’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of her green jacket, pulling her closer. Deena’s hand was getting lost in Sam’s blonde ponytail, holding her in place, driving her crazy. Every second their kisses renewed and grew in passion, with Deena’s tongue pulling shivers out of Sam, and Sam’s teeth biting down on Deena’s bottom lip, overjoyed to take the other woman by surprise.

It was an accident, though. Sam didn’t really mean to open her eyes when she did. But by the time she realized what had happened, it was too late and the damage was done. She opened her eyes and right there behind Deena, with his monstrous head almost on her shoulder, was Peter. Peter the shadow, the ghost, the darkness, the demon, the ruin of Sam’s entire life.

She gasped and jumped back and away from Deena as if she’d received some kind of lethal shock.

“Fuck,” the two of them said. They were breathless, confused, and hurt. There was a sudden and unbreachable distance between. They were completely alone in the greenhouse.

--

Less than an hour later, and wearing her pajamas, Sam was storming out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the manor. Her thoughts were messier than ever, and only half of it was because of the wine. There was a lot going on in her mind, a lot she couldn’t erase, understand, or even acknowledge. There was a lifetime of expectations and lies that she had endured for too long. There was a kiss from a captivating gardener that wasn’t supposed to be so sweet. There was Deena standing up, apologizing, apologizing as if anything would have possibly been her fault, and walking away from Sam without once looking back. There was a pair of teenagers that jumped out of their beds at that ungodly hour just to make her waste five minutes in the hallway, listening to them explain some genuinely unsettling dreams until they agreed to let her go. Underneath it all, there was one thought standing out from the rest though. Unfair. That’s what Sam thought of it all. It wasn’t fair that she had to deal with that much, since she was a little girl. It wasn’t fair that even after dying Peter still controlled her. It wasn’t fair that she’d found the most incredible person and potentially ruined it all because of her fear.

But, at last, Sam had made it back to the hanging tree, back to the dying embers of the bonfire, which she hoped were strong enough to burn one last memory. She wasn’t alone, of course. Behind her, Ryan Torrest had observed her walk past him. He could barely change his expression anymore, but he looked as concerned as he was capable of. He raised his right hand in front of him to study the knife he still carried. He almost wished he could pass it to the clearly distressed woman, but there was no use. He couldn’t do anything, his knife wasn’t really capable of causing harm to ghosts, no matter how many times he had tested it before on himself. Besides, that woman had to face her ghosts by herself, and this one was a different kind of ghost than the manor's habitants.

A few feet in front of Sam, Peter’s ghost stood. He was just his shadow, just pure darkness resembling his shape, with just enough details for Sam to be able to see the hatred in his eyes. “ I can’t marry you, Peter, ” she had said. “ I don’t love you, I can’t, not you, not any man ,” she had added in an impulsive attempt to appease his already explosive anger. “ I’m sorry! I didn’t ask for this, Peter! Don’t hurt me, please, ” was the last she said to him. Before he raised his arm, before he took a step backward, before the truck hit him.

“What the hell, Peter?” Sam said, facing the silent ghost under the hanging tree.

There was no answer.

“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” Sam insisted.

The ghost didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t react.

“You don’t scare me anymore, Peter,” Sam said, not yelling anymore.

The dark, human-shaped mass only stood there, ominous but immobile.

“You can’t take anything else from me, you know?” Sam sighed.

The woman was just so tired, and the ghost couldn’t do anything, could he?

“If you think you can still hurt me then go for it. Do it, Peter, I don’t care anymore. Kill me, if that’s what you want, but get it over with. Because I’m done! Did you hear me? I’m done… I’m done… I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

The embers left from the bonfire suddenly sparked back to life, burning away what had been left behind.

[the-pherenike]

What are your headcanons for each member of Sector Z? 😊

Well, well, well... challenge accepted darling 😘

Here we go 😎

Sector Z Headcanons

Bruce Hudnall (Numbuh 0.1)

His very sharp and grumpy personality are the first details you will notice of his personality. Bruce has also a very sharp sarcasm that not everybody can understand it.

He can be cautious towards foreigners at first, and is not easy to gain his trust. “Trust is something you must be gain.” That’s his motto.

He can upset very much if someone makes fun of his hobbies or his height. Sometimes David teasing him calling him “Grumpy” but despite his jokes, they share a deep friendship.

Bruce always had a secret crush for David’s older sister, Rosalind, and when he wants to have his revenge on him, he doesn’t hesitate to call her “Ginger Rosy”, knowing this makes David upset very much (David is very protective towards his two sisters) but not just because she’s a ginger girl, but because Bruce thinks she looks like Ginger Rogers very much!

Bruce has a passion not just for gardening, but he loves to collecting vintage postcards too where there are beautiful photographs of 20th Century Divas/Models. This is a passion that’s been passed by his grandparents: for his 10th birthday, they gave him a special case where they collected vintage postcards for years and he loved it. He doesn’t have a favorite Diva: he thinks they are all beautiful.

He doesn’t shares his hobbies and passions with everyone but just with those he can trust.

Despite Bruce and her older sister, Ashley, love each other very much their bond it’s always a bit conflicting because of excessive protection and her stern ways towards his brother. Nevertheless, he will never change their bond for anything in the world.

David Edward Garrison (Numbuh 0.2)

He was originally born in Ontario (Canada) but his family was immigrated by Ireland many years ago. He’s bilingual: he speaks a very fluent French and English too.

David can spread calm, can be generous and very altruistic and protective towards who loves and competitive at the same time.

He has a bizarre sense of humor and can make some strange jokes when he’s in the mood; because of his kindhearted soul he can forgive (almost!) everything.

David has two sisters: Rosalind (oldest) and Diane (youngest) and he shares with the youngest one a very strong bond and he can be overprotective towards her: Diane never knew her mother because she died a few of hours after she gave birth her daughter. David was just 6 when his mother passed away. After their mother’s tragic loss the two brothers, Rosalind and David, decided to take care of her newborn sister. Diane grew her up under the love and care of her siblings and maternal uncles too but Diane developed a stronger bond with her big brother than with her sister, Rosalind.

David is very conceited too and he likes to show off and he knows this makes Bruce upset very much! He can be very shy too. When he’s seeing embarrassing situation or someone of his teammates teasing him joking with his weakness, he blushes very deeply and becomes very touchy.

David really loves animals since he was a little kid. He always wanted to keep a dog but his father, Edward, never allowed to him to keep neither a goldfish: he never liked animals very much and he’s allergic to dog fur. He also loves to drawing and arts and likes to listening sounds of nature: it makes him chill. He’s a nature lover and loves to listening Folk and Celtic Music.

He and his sister Diane have a deep passion for ice cream, chocolate and everything is sweet. David has a little secret case where he puts all candies and chocolate stuff and he always tries to keep it off from her little sister but she’s very able to find it out!

He has a secret crush for Ashley, but he’s too shy for admit that. He knows they’re so different, like night and day but he always amazes himself how they can become complementary at the same time.

One of his biggest fears is jumping into the void, especially in the darkness. There are just a few of people (except for his friends and his family) who knows about his big fear.

David often asked to Bruce if could give him some of his beautiful Vintage postcards, but nothing: Bruce is very jealous of his postcards collection and he won’t give it to anybody.

Ashley Hudnall (Numbuh 0.3)

Ashley has always had a bossy personality. She is strong, impulsive and fiercely loyal. But when she has weak moments, she will never show them to anybody because of her strong pride. She hates to show her weakness or crying in front of someone.

She’s still very protective towards her little brother, Bruce, despite he wants to see to her he can do it on his own.

Ashley doesn’t have an high self-esteem of herself and hates girly things. She likes to wear boyish or even vintage clothing.

It’s very hard to see Ashley’s feminine side, because Ashley herself doesn’t want to show it: she always says you don’t necessarily have be feminine to be a real girl. What really matters is what you have inside your soul. You can have a feminine side even inside your heart.

She doesn’t have a great bond with her parents, especially with her mother because they are both proud and strong and because of this they often clash between them.

She has a fantastic bond with her maternal Grandma and they both share their love for vintage clothing or many other accessories, like patches.

Lenny Joseph Willis (Numbuh 0.4)

Lenny shares a deep friendship with every single but the bond he shares with David is very strong: they know each other since they were kids and they always lived in the same quarter.

He’s very sensitive and generous towards everyone and loves fluffy animals and puppies. He’s got a female Golden Retriever, Iris, and when Lenny’s dog gave birth puppies, knowing David is an animals lover, he asked to him if he wanted one of his puppies but David sadly refused because of his father.

Lenny is very stubborn: when he gets an idea, nobody can’t change his mind. Nevertheless, because of his tender heart, he can be naïve and to trust too much towards people who doesn’t know. Because of this his friends are always ready to be careful what he does.

He likes sports like boxing and basket and loves to share the art of cooking and music with Constance, playing drum with her. Him and Constance share a very special bond, surely more than a friendship.

Constance Cecilia González (Numbuh 0.5)

Constance was born in Tijuana (Mexico), but she emigrated in USA with her mother and her family when she was 2. Despite she’s daughter (her father is passed away before she was born) she lives in a very large family (four cousins from her father’s side, maternal aunt and both paternal grandparents)!

She has a big passion for cooking since she was a little girl thanks to her mother and her Grandma. Cooking makes her happy and to her, it’s a synonymous to loving.

Constance is never been a chatterbox: she thinks words aren’t so necessary and believes people should start to listen more than talking without thinking.

She is also very inquisitive and loves to learn new things about the world and loves traveling. She can be very selective about her friendships and she can feel if someone has good vibes or not.

Because she has a very rebel hair, Constance always had troubles with brushing her hair. She thinks she looks like a poodle sometimes but at the end she got to used to it.

She is a big music lover and she grew up in the music since she was born: her oldest cousin, Carlos, is a drummer and he gave her some drum lessons when she was a little girl.

Hope you like them! ❤️

😘