#this is extra-fascinating if you leave both of them in their starting family situations

[dandelion-wings]

consider

rosaria and barbara roleswap

in which rosaria is basically natasha and barbara is the one kidnapped by treasure hoarders when she was a child

Okay, I don't know who Natasha is (I assumed an NPC, but when I googled got nothing but Star Rail, and if that's who you meant I don't play that), but that would be a fascinating roleswap! Though Rosaria in particular seems like she would be so different, as so much of her personality was shaped by her bandit experiences, that I'm not sure I can really get a grasp on what she might be like without them. XD;; Presumably she grew up in her village here, and... who knows where she might have gone from there, without knowing more about her family and parents. Though I suppose there's the possibility that the roleswap is that they were all killed as in canon but she was rescued instead of kidnapped, which would mean she grew up in the Church but with that trauma of watching them die, which... okay, I can see where Rosaria might go from there, and I feel like she'd be a less hardened person in the way she treats others, but probably have this core, given her strength of conviction in canon, of wanting to grow up to make sure that never happens to another child. Which is to say, Knight!Rosaria, probably.

Barbara does seem more emotionally fragile overall than Rosaria, and while some of that was probably her family situation, we know from her character stories that she struggled more even as a child, so honestly, being kidnapped by bandits would probably make her even more timid. TBH I have an easier time imagining her dying in the rough-survival situation Rosaria's lore implies, especially if she struggled with the 'training' Rosaria went through the way she struggled with her mother's, but we're assuming she survives here, so. Maybe the false-father bandit Rosaria killed in canon develops a soft spot for Barbara, too, and protects her, and she eventually ends up the group's mascot. Possibly she starts learning rough wilderness healing skills, which would help--the person who can keep you alive if a fight went bad is worth feeding and protecting--but I still can't imagine her ever becoming the kind of killer Rosaria is. Just much more calculating, aware of the skills she lacks without being ashamed of them as in canon, but rather equally aware of the skills she possesses and determined not to devalue them in any trade for those skills she doesn't have.

...and then Sir Rosaria is with Varka's party when they clear out the bandit camp, desperate for revenge because these were the bandits who killed her family. But she's injured in the fight, and Barbara, cornered by Rosaria as the surviving bandits are being chased down and slaughtered, offers those exact skills to help her in exchange for her own life. Yeah, okay, I'm into that. XD

[ashtraythief]

I always wondered if Bobby liked Dean more because while Sam always had Dean looking after him, protecting him, caring for him, etc, Dean had nobody else looking out for him when John was on hunts, and he was a child too, which maybe made him extra sympathetic towards him.

But anyway, it’s really interesting to me to think about which of them was John’s favorite. Dean says Sam was the favorite, and Sam says Dean was. It could be argued either way. From one point of view, Sam was John's favourite because of how much he tried to protect him, through Dean. Sam was shielded from a lot more growing up whereas Dean really had to step up and be a guardian. But you can also say that Dean was his favorite son as he obeyed John's every order and was by definition a perfect son. I think he probably liked Dean better, since they didn’t fight nearly as much as Sam and him, but I think he was a broken men that loved both his sons with everything he had. I haven’t watched the later seasons, so I could be wrong. But their relationship with John always fascinated me. I’ve always wondered, if John lived, would he have killed Sam like he told Dean to do? Honestly, when Sam started drinking demon blood, I think he might have. Putting family first no matter what feels like more of a Sam/Dean thing than a Winchester thing. Not sure if John would have been down for that. Could be wrong, what do you think?

Hmm yes to Bobby I think, that could be a good reason. Also I think Bobby struggled with Sam going darkside for a bit, so I think that also might have impacted their relationship. There were moments during s5 I think where Bobby didn't trust Sam to stay clean.

Yeah the John question is difficult. I kinda agree with all of what you said. You can make the case either way.

As for would John have killed Sam. I think he might have. And I think he knew that about himself which is why he chose to deal his life for Dean's in 2.01. (he also loved Dean and probably felt some guilt and regret there too, but) Like he still gave Dean the order to kill Sam, had to account for that, but John knew that if there was anyone who could keep Sam from going darkside, it would be Dean. It certainly wouldn't be John, with a dead Dean no less. So I think John sacrificed himself to give Sam a better shot at staying good. He made the deal to save Dean's life, but it was also kind of for Sam. A two for one special if you will that Azazel never realized what it was because you can say about John Winchester and his A+ parenting whatever you want, the man was still an excellent, shrewd hunter. It's interesting to think about whether John really believed that Dean would be able to kill Sam. Yes, Dean was a good soldier, but his number one directive was always watch out for Sammy. And that clashing, Dean's purpose and John's last order, John must have known he'd come up short? I mean the show leaves no doubt about it. Over and over Dean is faced with Sam going or seemingly going darkside and he never once manages to kill him. He always tries to find another way. So did John give Dean that cryptic advice to set his boys on the right path? To make Dean go on high alert, drive home the seriousness of the situation so that Dean would stop Sam from ever going down the evil road? Or did he really think Dean would be able to kill Sam eventually? Because like, even in the s15 Sam as Boykin AU, Dean waits so long until its too late and faced with Sam he hesitates enough to get himself killed. I am intrigued what people think about John's expectations here. That to me is the most baffling question 😅

[c-is-for-circinate]

As promised: let's talk Hades, and how acts of abuse can create toxic environments for everyone around them, and also how people react to those environments--and to them being disrupted.

(For reference, I have just kicked Theseus's ass for the first time, it was exactly as satisfying as it was intended to be, and then I got predictably slaughtered a couple of chambers into Styx. Spoilers for everything through that point, but please no spoilers in reblogs/comments for anything after that!) Also, TW for a whole lot of discussion of abuse, particularly verbal and emotional abuse, and abusive familyworkplace dynamics.

Okay, so. To start out with, Hades is an abusive parent. He engages in innumerable acts of verbal and emotional abuse towards his son, because yep, that's what you call it when a parent constantly berates and belittles their kid for every perceived failure, including the ones the parent themselves could have prevented. Sometimes especially the ones the parent could have prevented. Zagreus failed at his office clerk job because Hades refused to teach him how to do it and then blamed him for not already knowing how. Cerberus tore up the lounge because Hades, who was actually there, chose not to stop him. Hades created, possibly deliberately, and then took full advantage of every opportunity he saw to insult and demean his kid, and the clerk job flashback shows us that he was doing so even before the escape attempts started. I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here, but: yep, that all constitutes abuse, even if they're gods. Even if Hades has reasons for Being Like That. Even if you think Zagreus seems okay and unharmed by it (which: repeatedly throwing yourself into a gauntlet of violence that inevitably ends in your own pain and death because you're so desperate to escape home, not actually an indicator of someone who's okay). We all good on that?

Cool. Because I'm not really here to talk about how Hades' abuse directly impacts Zagreus right now (although there's for sure an essay in that too). I'm thinking about how it impacts everybody else.

Hades isn't as obviously unreasonable with anybody else in his kingdom the way he is with his kid. When we see him lecture somebody else, it's usually for an actual failure to do their job: Hypnos for literally falling asleep on the job and not doing anything that was assigned to him, Megaera for letting us past her so many time, Orpheus for being a court bard who refuses to sing. His attitude is super confrontational and unpleasant, but on the surface it doesn't necessarily look as fucked-up. Thing is, though, whether any individual act of aggression towards an employee/family member is justified or not (I would generally argue 'not', because aggression towards employees/family members is, y'know, not justifiable)--it's not about the individual acts. It's about the entire cultivated atmosphere of toxicity and abuse.

One of the very first things Meg ever says to us is, "I'd rather be on your bad side than his." Up until that point, we've got no reason to believe Meg has any history whatsoever of fucking up at her job. In fact, we've got plenty of reason to believe she's good at it. She's fiercely proud of it, she's frequently Employee Of The [Time Period], and we've apparently never even met her sisters because she handles her shit herself. But she's still scared of Hades. Dusa, who is an anxious wreck at all times because oh god what if she gets fired what if she gets fired what if she gets fired, in spite of apparently being absolutely exemplary at her job, is scared of Hades. Every single shade in the Hall is clearly terrified of Hades, and it's not because of what he's done to each of them. It's what they've seen him do to other people.

Which is how toxic environments work, whether they're work environments or families. The Court of Hades is of course both, always, with the bonus hell layer of you can't quit even if you DIE. An abuser in authority doesn't have to target you in order to make you feel scared, cowed, and desperate to please them. Humans (and gods who are basically extra-powerful humans) are good at learning by example. The residents of the Court get the picture.

So this Court is a minefield--and everyone except Zagreus is very good at tiptoeing around mines. We see it in Meg, so desperate to do her job well. We see that Hypnos very clearly does not give a shit about anything, but he still makes sure to have a list of excuses ready if/when Hades ever confronts him about failure to do his job, just in case. We see it when Achilles tells us that my ability to help you is constrained by the authority your father gives me, or whatever the line was sixty runs ago when he couldn't let me into locked chambers. The system, such as it is, works, and if Nyx talks to Hades as little as possible, if Thanatos avoids the Court entirely, if Achilles treads very carefully and knows how to keep his head down--well that's just the system, right? That's just how things are.

Even Zagreus seems to have had a role in that system as the court fuckup. He's the kid who didn't have a real job or purpose. He could take the focus of Hades' generalized, day-to-day ire off of everyone else, without triggering some of the more direct and violent ire because the work he was doing didn't really matter (a LOT of Hades' rage-triggers seem to be related to job performance, which means that the people with real jobs are of course the most at risk). And he could do so "safely" (big emphasis on the quotation marks there) because he alone of the court is Hades' actual kid, who's Prince of the Underworld no matter how much he fucks up. If one of Nyx's other kids gets something really really wrong, she might be able to protect them from some consequences, but Hades doesn't have any layer of supposed parental affection holding him back from getting violently furious about it. Zagreus gets a nice bedroom and the abuse is limited to words rather than divine power, and Hades is a dick to everyone but he only occasionally condemns people to eternities of torture, and only for good reasons like refusing to sing when your job is to be court bard, so it's fine, everybody's fine, everything's totally fine, right?

Except it's not fine when everybody is so clearly worried about anything going wrong. And it's especially not fine for Zagreus, who's the person to finally say no. He's leaving, for his own sake, because he deserves better and he's finally convinced he can have it. And that turns the whole system into disarray.

I am endlessly fascinated by the ways this game portrays different characters reacting to this upheaval in their carefully-mapped minefield. It's different for authority figures and peers and servants, different based on how people are positioned in the house under Hades' rule, and it's so spot-on and I love it.

Nyx, for instance, is absolutely calm about the whole thing, because Nyx has power. Hades can't hurt her. Hades can't even really do much against her children, not when Hypnos and Thanatos are gods in their own right. Yes, Hades rules the kingdom, but Nyx owns the land, and she gives no shits about his rages. And it's interesting, too, to see the lines she doesn't draw. The deal seems to be that Hades doesn't fuck with her, and doesn't outright threaten her kids (because Hypnos is bad at his job, demonstrably so, and Hades hasn't ruined him yet), and she doesn't interfere with the way he treats the people around him. She gives Zagreus advice and support and the mirror, but she also doesn't take a direct stand against Hades. He can't hurt her, but he could make life...difficult. She's protected, her position in the minefield is more of a safe viewing platform than slogging through the middle of it, but the mines are still there.

And then we have Achilles, who is one of my favorite characters in the whole game because of how he reacts to this whole situation. Achilles, like Nyx, is so supportive. Every single time you see him he has something encouraging to say. He gives us his Codex, secretly finds us weapons, trained us for years, clearly wants us to succeed. And still he's limited, not necessarily out of fear for himself (though he has to be scared for himself, he knows what Hades does to people who anger him), but out of concern that if he gives Zagreus too much help in one way, he won't be able to provide help at all later. He's still so careful.

Achilles and Nyx are so fucking important to this story because they're the only authority figures Zagreus really has in his life except for his father, and they are so supportive. They're what keep this story from being a nightmare of psychological horror and depression. They can't stop the pressure from Hades and this life in his house being miserable for Zag, but they can give us hope, remind us that Zagreus is still loved. And they have such an incredibly important role when it comes to guilt, which is one of the biggest ways toxic systems maintain themselves.

If Zagreus leaves, what happens to everybody else? Who takes Hades' wrath then? Who becomes court scapegoat if he's not there, and also, who gets punished for his escape? These questions matter, and we see him worry about it! He asks Nyx and Achilles both, is it going to be okay that you're helping me, are you going to be alright, will my father hurt you for this? And they are both so firm about telling him no. No, I will be fine. See, here's the list of reasons about why I'm going to be fine, why my position in this minefield is secure. They make a point of telling us that it's fine, that we do not need to hold ourself back from getting out of this abusive situation for their sake. That is instrumental in Zagreus's ability to keep making these escape attempts without feeling too guilty and worried and selfish to go on. (Another thing that's actually really important in setting up that dynamic--we see that Hades cares about Cerberus, even if he's using him as a pawn against us, and Cerberus seems to be the one figure in court who Hades doesn't get mad at. The dog isn't at risk, and that is really essential in keeping the story from getting too grim.) These people who we care about refuse to let themselves be held hostage to secure our good behavior.

It's also really useful for raising the stakes later in the story--we see Hades arguing with Nyx once or twice, and we see Zagreus feeling guilty about it, but it's also a sign that we're making enough progress to piss him off. After I finally made it out of Elysium on my last run, I came home to find him furious with Achilles in a way that actually makes me nervous, because Achilles does not have nearly as much security in his position as he says he does. (Achilles is such a good teacher/authority figure, because he knows goddamn well what Hades could do to him, and still refuses to let fear for his own situation stop him from helping the abused kid under his care escape his. And no, not everybody has the capacity to do that, but it matters so much coming from the guy who helped raise us. It matters so much. I do not even have the words for how much.)

It's also no mistake that many of the people we find supporting us along our journey are either the people with the most power in their immediate environment, or the least. Sisyphus helps us because what more could they do to me than this? Orpheus is a little wild around the eyes and somewhat disconnected from reality, and he wishes us the best because someone should get what they want and also he no longer gives a single fuck what happens to him. Eurydice has her own cozy little corner of Asphodel, as safe from Hades' rage as anybody anywhere in his realm because she's tucked in such an out-of-the-way middle place she's outside his notice. Dusa is so scared of everything anyway that, crush aside, she isn't any more threatened by us escaping than she is just by her everyday life here. Charon is unfathomable and unstoppable; Skelly literally exists to be a punching bag, and yet he also seems basically immune to pain, no matter what we do to him. There's no threat from Hades there.

So the people most at risk when I flip the world on its ear are the ones who have so much standing that they have something to lose, but not enough to protect them from losing it. Which of course brings us to Than and Meg--who are, of course, the two people who also seem by far the most upset by my attempts to leave.

As authority figures, Nyx and Achilles are constantly reinforcing the message that it's Hades' fault, not ours, if they or anybody else get caught in the crossfire of his wrath. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and it's not my guilt to bear. From Megaera and Thanatos, we get the opposite message--I am fucking with things, I am hurting people, and I need to stop. Zagreus isn't just abandoning them, as a friend or brother or lover or all of the above they're Greek gods who even knows. He's betraying them. They were in this together, as friends or lovers or whatever, but now Zagreus is sending earthquakes through the minefield they both still have to stand in. He is about to capsize this boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, he is fucking with the system, and they're the ones who are going to get most hurt.

I'm so curious how this is going to work for Than, who out of everyone we meet holds the closest role to Nyx's in terms of being sheltered from Hades' wrath. He's the guy who gets to leave, after all, even though he always has to come back. I've seen the least of him out of anybody so far because it took forever for me to get to Elysium, but two things really stand out and I'm so interested to see where they go. One, he really genuinely does care about Zagreus. He wants us safe, he wants us unhurt, the accessory he gives us only grants its bonus if we clear a room without taking injury, he keeps showing up to help. And two, he wants us to give up and go back and recognize how good we had it. Which is SO fucking interesting, considering how miserable Zagreus so clearly was, and how legitimate his reasons for being miserable were.

It makes me wonder so much about Than's standards for comparison. Does he know something we don't about what's waiting for us on the surface, something that might theoretically hurt Zagreus even more than staying down below? Has his life, which apparently allows him more freedom than anybody else in the Court, sucked horribly in ways we haven't seen, and that's why he spends so little time there in the first place? Either of those things is plausible, both of those things are plausible, and yet either one leads to this sense of patronizing, because he refuses to simply tell us. If something terrible is awaiting us, don't give us vague warnings, tell us what it is and let us decide for ourself! If you're fucking jealous because we might get out entirely and you're still stuck coming back here, say so. If you're worried about your mom--and he does bring her up, how could Zagreus turn his back on her like that, does seem to worry for her--then let's have an actual conversation about how many times she has insisted I do this and also how much I love her.

And, right, it's clear that a lot of Thanatos being upset is simply, you were going to leave me without even saying goodbye, you want to leave ME, which is understandable! But, like, he is demonstrably the one god who gets to visit the surface. He's the one person we actually COULD expect to see again. And he is absolutely also upset because there's an Order To Things, and we're fucking it up. We used to be his careless callow reckless friend who could talk back to Hades and get away with it, and now we're not, and everything is changing and we might leave him altogether, and we might leave him alone in that court without us, and he hates it.

Is it a short-sighted, selfish fear on his part? Yes, absolutely. Even if he's not scared of Hades on his own behalf, he is still frightened by what happens if we upset this system--and maybe it's the sanctity of a much bigger system than the Underworld that he's worried about! Maybe it's the whole divine and cosmic order. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect is enabling the abuse Zagreus has been dealing with for however-long he's been alive. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect OUGHT to be overturned, or at least shaken up. But this is what toxic systems DO. They convince the people within them that they have to be maintained, that a broken system that hurts the people within it is far better than no system at all, that changing the world is too scary and too dangerous. And Thanatos wants his whatever-Zagreus-is-to-him to be there, because he loves him and also because that's how the world works, and those things are all tangled up in one another, and that is how relationships are in a messed-up family like this so therefore I love it.

And Meg. Meg, the best for last, my dear, beautiful, furious, bitter, scared angry tired girl. I adore her. I am absolutely never going to date her, because the thing Zagreus needs most in his life hurts her, more directly than anybody else in the story, and that sucks, and it's not Zag's fault but they still shouldn't be together. Meg has taken more injury from this situation than anyone, quite literally as well as metaphorically, and it's not her fault any more than it's ours, but oh boy it has made her lash out and it's awful and it's perfect.

Meg's place in the Court of Hades is unique because she's not dead, not a mortal, not anything other than a god--but she's also not family. Nyx is not her mother. She's very much part of this system, she and her two sisters belong to Hades-the-realm and therefore also Hades-the-king, she can't leave, but she also doesn't have that protection of Nyx watching out for her in the same way. She's not royalty. She and her sisters (if you ask Hesiod instead of Virgil, which seems to be the interpretation the game's going with here) sprang from the blood of maimed Uranus at the same time as Aphrodite, but fuck knows Aphrodite isn't claiming them as siblings. And she can't be fired, exactly, but she sure can be demoted, and she sure can be made miserable in her job. Meg is vulnerable in a way very few people in Hades' employ are. She's a lot harder to do away with than any one random shade, but she's also a lot harder to miss blending in with a crowd.

What's more, she's the one person in this whole mess who is specifically tasked with stopping us from leaving. Hypnos isn't ordered to put us to sleep and keep us in our room. Thanatos can't be compelled or punished if he doesn't hunt us down. Achilles isn't told to lock us up and keep the keys. Meg is the one stationed at the doorway to Tartarus to keep us in. Meg is the one who gets in trouble when we leave. Meg (who Hades knows goddamn well Zagreus cares for, or cared for, who he absolutely knows we used to date) is the one who has to fight us again and again and again. And she's the one who keeps dying.

Again, it's this incredibly fucked-up guilt/hostage situation deliberately designed to keep people from fleeing abusive situations. Meg's insistence on fighting us now puts Zagreus in the position of having to hurt her himself again and again. Now suddenly we're the ones sticking a sword in our ex-girlfriend. Now suddenly someone can point to our desire to leave, to flee, to escape, and say, how selfish. How cruel. How terrible of us to want to go, when we're even willing to hurt the people we love to do it.

Except, right: Hades is the one who demands Meg stand there and stop us. Hades is the one who puts both of us in that position. Meg is also in an abusive situation, and she's willing to hurt us to protect herself. "I'd rather be on your bad side than your father's." It's easy to blame her at the start for being complicit, for being a tool of our father's abuse, for being on his side. It gets harder as the game goes on. I've killed her so many times. There's no way for her to beat me. She knows at this point that she can't beat me. She still fights, every single time, still throws herself upon that spike, not because she thinks she has any chance of stopping me but because she is so damn scared of what will happen if she doesn't try.

In fact, Meg's the one person we have actually seen face consequences for our actions so far, instead of just facing the threat of them. Her sisters are here. Her sisters, who she clearly does not want here, who are wild and violent and who she does not want in her life or anywhere near her, let alone near the job she takes so much pride in. She gets to deal with them now. (Hades doesn't have to deal with them. They're still not allowed in his court. But Meg does.) She gets stabbed, and bludgeoned, and shot, and lightning-struck, and poisoned, and every other thing we do to her. Thanatos doesn't. Nyx and Achilles and Hypnos don't. Bug Meg? Oh yes. Meg pays.

And yes, ok, she is complicit in this system. Everybody is complicit in this system. Zagreus who's trying to escape on his own behalf instead of overthrowing his father for the sake of everyone he'd otherwise be leaving behind is complicit in this system. Pointing fingers and pulling strings of who's more at fault? and who do we blame for this? is exactly how this sort of system perpetuates itself. Your sister always talked back at the dinner table and put everyone in an even worse and more violent mood. Your coworker refuses to work more than forty hours a week so now you have to take overtime to pick up their slack. You're enabling your dad by asking your sister to shut up, you're enabling your employer by working as hard as you do so you don't get fired, everyone's at fault, everyone's to blame, everyone is--

It's not everyone. It's Hades. It's Hades at the root of everything, and probably something big and institutional and fucked-up even beyond him. But even if everyone down in this Underworld does have to be trapped here forever, even if he's trapped here forever, Hades is neither challenging the system that put them here nor trying to make that fate better for anyone else stuck with him. He's just created an entire kingdom of backbiting and misery and people who can either go along with his whims or suffer the consequences.

At this point in the game, Meg is so fucking tired. Every time we run into her in the lounge, hunched over a table, the venom in her voice when she tells us "Do I look like I have anything to say to you?" is so bitter and so exhausted. There was a system, and she knew her place in the system, and it was a system divinely ordered by the gods themselves, and sure it was cruel but that's the literal will of the universe as far as she knows it. She had a role, and her role was vengeance and punishment and violence against those who'd committed the most egregious of sins in life, and there was a point to it, she was the divine deterrent to convince people not to do those things, and that was just, and that was right. The GODS THEMSELVES said so. How do you argue with that? You can't possibly argue with that!

And Zagreus is arguing with that. In trying to leave, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that nothing in the Underworld ever gets to leave it. In disobeying his father to do so, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that what the gods say is LAW. He's breaking everything.

And of course he's not trying to do any of that. He's not trying to destabilize the system at all. He's just trying to get himself out of it, to a place where he feels like he belongs and maybe a parent who's slightly nicer to him than this one. But toxic systems like this one break when the people within them have access to another option. When the kids find a way to actually leave, and not answer the phone, and not come home for holidays, and not deal with it any more. When the employees have the economic freedom to quit. When opportunities granted by education, money, social support, etc etc etc, show up and give people a choice. Even if the option is only ever for Zagreus--he's demonstrating that an option exists. Which is, of course, the one thing the system cannot ever allow.

I really like this game.

[blu-joons]

HUSBAND DAY6 A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kang Younghyun

A ⇴ AFFECTION

The two of you were very much a cuddly couple, even when the two of you were in public you would have your arms around each other’s waists, whilst still making sure that you were respectful of other people too.

B ⇴ BOYS

You hit it off with the boys pretty much from the get-go, with all of them making you feel incredibly comfortable. They’d heard enough about you from Younghyun to know that before they even met you that they’d like you, but when they eventually did greet you, they were even more impressed by you.

C ⇴ COMFORT

The best thing about Younghyun was the great advice that he always gave you whenever you were feeling down. He would listen to every single thing that you had to say to him about the situation, weighing up what could be helpful to you before sitting you down and helping you figure out how to fix things.

D ⇴ DOMESTICATED

Most of the jobs around your home were done together, Younghyun refused to let you do too much, no matter how busy he was. If there was a job that he could do, he would make sure to tell you to leave it for him to do when he got home. When you did the jobs anyway, despite what Younghyun had said to you, he would make sure to scold you and remind you that he had to do the jobs around the house too.

E ⇴ ENGAGEMENT

A lot of planning went into Younghyun’s proposal, he wanted every single detail, no matter how small the detail was, to be absolutely perfect to make sure that it impressed you. Younghyun was in no rush to propose to you so that he could make sure that everything was as he wanted it to be, relying on the boys for a bit of help too with the details that required an extra little bit of effort to complete.

F ⇴ FAVOURITE THING

Younghyun’s favourite thing about being with you was how content he was around you. He just couldn’t help but smile when he was around you, even when you were doing nothing at all. At times he would find himself just watching you without even realising that he was doing it, he was fascinated by you and enjoyed picking up on new habits that you had, always learning new things about you.

G ⇴ GOING OUT

Most of the time the two of you stayed in rather than going out, making the most of the time with one another and no interruptions. However, if someone invited the two of you out then you would usually end up going, making sure that you spent plenty of time with your friends as well as one another too.

H ⇴ HONEYMOON

Your honeymoon was left ultimately down to you, with Younghyun wanting to give you the honeymoon that you wanted. He wanted it to mainly be a thank you to you, with you sacrificing many trips because of his work schedule, he wanted to finally give you the holiday that you had dreamt of.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

The way that he looked after you was how Younghyun showed you that he loved you the most. He never failed to be a gentleman with you, he held doors, carried your bags, whilst with most men that seemed to disappear as your relationship progressed, they were habits with Younghyun that never seemed to be lost.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Seeing Younghyun be jealous was something that was incredibly rare, he was comfortable and trusting with you, and most people around you too. He tended to not get jealous, but more aware, if he could tell that you were getting uncomfortable or that someone was a little too close to you, he wouldn’t shy away from approaching the situation and usually positioning himself right by your side and holding your hand.

K ⇴ KIDS

From the very start of your relationship, you both knew that a family was what you both wanted, but only when you were ready. The two of you had many conversations, shared several dreams that you had too with each other, hoping that when the time was right several of those dreams would come true for you.

L ⇴ LAZY DAYS

There was always music involved whenever the two of you had a lazy day, often using the time to catch up on some new releases and hear some of the albums that had been released whilst you were busy. Whilst you tended to just listen to the music and scroll through your phone, Younghyun still searched for a little bit of inspiration from the songs despite the fact it was supposed to be a day off for him.

M ⇴ MORNINGS

Most mornings Younghyun would be up before you, and so he quite liked to make your morning a little bit easier whilst one step ahead of you. Quite often you’d wake up to see the things for breakfast laid out for you to make, or head into the bathroom to see your toiletries already on the shower floor.

N ⇴ NIGHTS

Getting Younghyun to switch off at night was often a bit of a challenge for you. Work was on the brain for most of the night with him, so it was up to you to help him destress and ultimately get a good sleep too.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Younghyun was obsessed with your laughter and how it always managed to brighten his day. A lot of inspiration came to him as a result of your laughter, especially the way that it always made his heart race with excitement.

P ⇴ PRECIOUS MOMENTS

He loved to show you his music and play an instrument for you. His music was Younghyun’s strength, and he knew how much you loved to listen to it too. The moments when you would be both lost, with Younghyun playing and you just listening meant the world to him as he picked up on how invested you were in him.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Your wellbeing was one of the most important things to Younghyun and so he would ask you constantly how you were. The moment he felt something switch with you, he’d ask how you were just to be sure you were fine.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

When he wasn’t allowed to wear his wedding ring during a broadcast, Younghyun would wear it as a necklace instead to make sure that he kept it on him. Even if sometimes other people weren’t able to see it, you’d always know on the end of the chain as you watched him during his broadcast his wedding ring would be sat.

S ⇴ SILENCE

The two of you had your silent moments, but it was never really uncomfortable between you both. Quite a lot of the time the two of you would be comfortable in silence whilst resting and laying with one another, although most of the time Younghyun would play some music in the background whilst you rested anyway.

T ⇴ TIPS & TRICKS

Younghyun’s best tip for making your marriage work was to be a team in everything. Neither of you ever did things alone, you picked each other up and were the first people to congratulate one another when things went well.

U ⇴ UPSET

Straight away he would be by your side whenever you were upset, he would refuse to leave your side until your tears stopped falling.

V ⇴ VISITS

Whenever you had time off, you’d stop by at Younghyun’s studio and bring him food, or a drink to make sure that he was looking after himself. You knew how hard he worked himself in the studio, so kept checking in on him.

W ⇴ WISH LIST

More than anything else Younghyun wished for you, he wanted to be there to support you in achieving your dreams like you did for him.

X ⇴ XXXX

Sweet kisses were by far Younghyun’s favourite to give to you. The innocence of a trail of pecks along your jaw or cheek always brought a smile to his face, not to mention how much he loved to see you blush too.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his biggest fan; you could always be found cheering Younghyun on with anything.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

The two of you fall asleep incredibly close to one another, bringing each other comfort whenever you’re sleeping, making sure that you’re as settled as possible by holding on to not feel alone as you rested.

---

Masterlist

[spockandawe]

Okay, I think I found what I really wanted to root out with Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu and the physicality of their book relationship.

Because I will argue for days that Wen Kexing is terribly touch-starved, especially at the beginning of the book. For eight years, as the Valley Master, he’s only allowed Gu Xiang within a meter of him. They have a fairly casual relationship, but they straddle an awkward line between family and master/servant, and as the Ghost Valley Master? Everyone in Ghost Valley, including Gu Xiang, is at least a little frightened of him. He’s affection-starved as much as he is touch-starved, and having one person who cares more than she’s frightened isn’t really enough to overcome that degree of isolation. When a servant woman is combing his hair and accidentally hits a snag, she begs for her life, and his first reaction is to ask if someone forced her to wait on him. He’s been the Valley Master since he was a very young adult, and he’s been in Ghost Valley since he was a child.

And it’s so interesting to me that a lot of cnovels really emphasize that when the leads are in a relationship, it’s their first relationship, and they never wanted anyone else, but Wen Kexing (and jing beiyuan in lord seventh, which is an interesting parallel) really directly subvert that. Gu Xiang almost immediately remarks that Wen Kexing spends plenty of nights with male courtesans, and partway through the book, Wen Kexing uses a handkerchief from a famous courtesan to treat Zhou Zishu’s injury. He left the valley and entered the human world, and immediately threw himself into the arms of other men.

And Zhou Zishu, I would say, is also touch starved and affection starved, but is coping differently from Wen Kexing. No matter how strained and/or political his relationships with the Emperor and the government are, and even though he took charge of the Four Seasons Manor at... fifteen, iirc, he did have at least one close, affectionate (for a zhou zishu value of affectionate), trusting relationship, with Liang Jiuxiao. And where Wen Kexing starts the book with a comfortable relationship with Gu Xiang, Zhou Zishu starts the book knowing that his shidi is dead, and in Lord Seventh, we see the ways that he failed and/or “failed” Liang Jiuxiao, with Jiang Xue, and with staying at his post during the final battle instead of rushing off and trying to find his shidi, and it working out... not well. And I think it’s fascinating that unlike Wen Kexing, when he leaves Tian Chuang to reenter the human world, he’s content to be almost completely solitary, and focuses his attention on seeing the sights and drinking good wine.

A really interesting parallel to me is in the Ye Baiyi extra, where he mentions that it’s only human nature to crave food and sex, and he’s too old to care about sex, so food it is. Because that’s not a thought he ever shares with the other characters, but it’s very interesting to me that in the novel, in that first burst of enjoying their freedom, Wen Kexing is so focused on physical intimacy, first with courtesans, and then with Zhou Zishu, while Zhou Zishu is much more focused on physical pleasure must less dependent on other humans, like sightseeing and wine.

But once Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are in action together, and once Wen Kexing definitively gets invested in Zhou Zishu, the physical progression of the relationship is really interesting to me. Wen Kexing gets very handsy and very forward, very quickly. Zhou Zishu tends to either endure or push him away, depending on the situation, but compared to something like, say, svsss, there’s much less ‘but i’m not gay though’ and much more generalized irritation until he (much more slowly) gets invested in return. 

And I probably would have brushed it away except for that one scene where they were about to do it, and get interrupted by the Scorpion King. First, this line, which makes it absolutely clear that as much as Zhou Zishu had given up on living a long, normal human life, Wen Kexing was in exactly the same position. Now, seeing Zhou Zishu potentially get a new lease on life, he’s forced to reckon with the idea that it might be possible for him to live on in the same way, which casts a whole new light on how casually he slept around with courtesans and propositioned Zhou Zishu earlier in the story, versus where he stands now.

They were both lone wolves who had been caught in hunters’ traps, struggling with all of their strength to free themselves to no avail, and thus, were willing to gnaw their own legs off without mercy.

[Wen Kexing] hadn’t been able to help following him, from watching him. Then a revelation had dawned— He’d realized, for the first time, that if Zhou Zishu could live like this, was it also a possible for him to live like this?

And then when Wen Kexing starts to catch a fresh round of feelings, Zhou Zishu’s response says volumes about his prior reactions whenever Wen Kexing got forward with him.

“A-Xu, sleep with me once. This way, we’ll keep each other in our hearts. You won’t die so easily then, and neither will I. What do you think?”

He said it jokingly, yet Zhou Zishu did not reply, only looked at him oddly. A while later, he finally asked, “Are you truly sincere about this?”

Wen Kexing laughed, his body tilting towards Zhou Zishu. He spoke, nearly against Zhou Zishu’s lips, “Can’t you tell if I’m sincere or not?”

Stunned, Zhou Zishu paused, then said in a low voice, “I… truly can’t tell. I haven’t experienced many instances of sincerity over the course of my life, and can’t identify it. Are you?”

Wen Kexing's fingers drifted up his shoulder, and tugged his hair loose. Dark hair cascaded down, making the tough man before his eyes look a few degrees more fragile in an instant. He dropped his cheeky grin, and in a soft voice, filled with momentous certainty, said, "I am."

Wen Kexing is most starved for touch, while Zhou Zishu is most starved for sincerity. Zhou Zishu was up to his neck in court politics in Lord Seventh, where a major focus of the story is about how sure, the Crown Prince may be deeply in love, but he’s the future Emperor, and ultimately, his feelings land way down the priority list. Up until this point in the story, with Wen Kexing waxing eloquent about how pretty Zhou Zishu must be, and calling it ‘mariticide’ when Zhou Zishu hits him, and being like ‘no no let’s hear the man out’ when the Scorpion King wants them to put on a sexy show for him, Zhou Zishu hasn’t been able to tell whether  Wen Kexing means it. 

I love me a story where the leads are terrible communicators and it causes them much Suffering, but this is a really tasty variant that I don’t feel like I see that often. Their hungers are so similar, but just disjoint enough that they can’t understand each other’s reservations. For a soulmates story like this, it’s just the right kind of tension to make the relationship work extra well for me. They’re in sync about this, as they are about so many things, with just enough of an offset that they’re both left ever so slightly uncertain, and it isn’t until they trust each other enough to ask a question as plain as ‘are you truly sincere about this?’ that they’re finally able to close the gap and reach that understanding with each other. 

[a-n-conrad]

Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)

[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex

Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]

You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.

You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.

It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.

Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.

You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.

Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.

He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.

But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.

He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.

- - - - -

You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.

And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.

He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.

It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.

“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”

You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”

He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”

He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”

He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.

“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”

Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.

He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.

“I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.

“We’ll see about that, kitten.”

- - - - -

You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.

His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.

He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.

He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.

It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.

“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.

There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.

“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.

“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.

“Ask nicely.”

You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”

You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.

“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”

You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”

He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.

You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.

The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.

With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”

You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.

You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.

You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.

Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.

He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.

He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.

“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”

He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.

After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”

And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.

(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)

[professionallydeadinside]

Headcanons for the swap au sewer gators!!!!!

So I actually started thinking about what this au would be like as a game and who would be the protagonist and such

I think that if it was a game, Marguerite would be the protagonist, with the whole story being her going around and saving her family, especially her kids!! She’d be like Ethan in RE8 but turned up extra kick ass with her mom instincts

Peter and Andre like almost always at least get along and work together, but Clancy and Pete frequently disagree, making it a situation of “well they’re both gonna kill me, but if I just pick one to go after the other will leave me alone”

Clancy takes an immediate fascination to Lucas and steals him away from Pete and Andre to place him in his own games, whereas the other Bakers stay with Pete, at least in the beginning

Clancy forms like an immediate obsession with Lucas, I’m not sure obsession is the perfect word but it’s the best I can think of. Due to this obsession, Clancy actually becomes like a protector in the event that Peter comes after Lucas

Despite Marguerite being the protagonist, I think it’d be Lucas who saves his family by making a deal with Clancy. If Clancy lets his family go, then Lucas will willingly stay with him and play his games for as long as he wants. Can’t decide if the ending should be the deal being made and Lucas then just staying while Marguerite and Zoe leave (I don’t think Clancy would let Jack live, despite Lucas’s protests. If we’re going with the more canon interpretation where Jack abuses Lucas, then Clancy wouldn’t let Jack go as a punishment for hurting Lucas. If we go with a more fanon interpretation, then yeah Jack would leave with Marguerite and Zoe, but I imagined this with the more canon way), the deal being made but Marguerite coming back and beating the shit out of Clancy to get her son, or if the Sewer Gators would be nicer, but i don’t think that one would work. The last ending i could think of was Clancy having Marguerite and Zoe stay but keep them from fighting

Marguerite should get a spear because she deserves one <3

Lucas comes across Zoe at some point and she’s like tied up and fucked up and you get a nice mix between older brother protectiveness and debilitating helplessness for Lucas

If you want to include Joe then I think after the ending of Lucas staying while Marguerite and Zoe leave, Marguerite, Zoe, and Joe create a kick ass trio to go and get him back and Clancy doesn’t have a prayer

Andre’s weakness is totally the camera in his face, so if you shatter the screen you’ve basically blinded him, so you just have to worry about making noise

I feel like Peter would have a Pennywise type weakness, where, because he’s a host, you just have to heckle him enough and he’ll go into a rage, becoming super sloppy and stops guarding his weak spots so it’s much easier to get good hits in

With Clancy, Lucas would never physically fight him, but Marguerite might. If she does, she’d have to pull a “trust me” move with Lucas, making it seem like she’ll hurt him, which distracts Clancy enough she can get good hits in

Jack is fuckin useless in this story nfjdhdj but if you go with the more canon way, then Clancy absolutely hates him and will kill him on sight, too furious to even make him suffer. He just needs Jack dead and the comfort that he’ll never touch Lucas again

It is two in the morning and I’m still not feeling great so we’ll see if i have more ideas later but yeah!! Swap au sewer gators!!!

WAKJHGFDSDFGH SILAS IM JUST GONNA SAY I LOVE THE IDEA OF PROTAGONIST MARGUERITE I WANT HER TO MAKE SNARKY COMMENTS LIKE ETHAN DOES TOO

[asterekmess]

Did you ever watch Buffy? The first episode where Anya was introduced was titled "The Wish" and all I can think about is if Scott McCall had ever run into a pure Sidhe where they offered him a wish. Instead of, "I wish Buffy had never come to Sunnydale." It would be more, "I wish I was never bitten to become a werewolf." But just like all feaye tricks, the outcome is more, his Dad ended up with primary custody rather than his Mom and he was forced to leave BH. And then Stiles ended up more friends with Heather and others. And while Scott's life is worse, when he tracks down the others he finds all of theirs are greatly improved.

I think about it a lot and how Scott never really dealt with the consequences of any of his actions, everyone else did, and how an episode or mini-arc could have fixed a flaw in the show's design. I mean, we were already dealing with a lot of Celtic lore, why not someone from the Sidhe courts?

I have no idea why this took me so long to answer, so apologies for that. <3 I did watch buffy! I've seen all of it, and all of Angel as well. XD

I remember 'The Wish' episode, and whoooo boy it gave me chills. I loved how big the butterfly effect was, how something that seemed so small, something that Genuinely seemed to be the cause of a lot of problems in Sunnydale, ended up being so important to how things had progressed. Because, yeah, you would think Buffy not coming to Sunnydale would be a Good Thing, right? Sunnydale didn't have all of these insane issues before she arrived. It was quiet, and nothing big or scary ever happened. Her arrival matches perfectly with when everything started going absolutely nuts, so whatever selfish ideas Cordelia had, her thought that Buffy not coming to Sunnydale would be a good thing, makes sense. Except that, as she finds out, she's entirely wrong. Buffy's arrival was a lucky coincidence, or fate, whatever your taste leans toward. She showed up right as things started going nuts, and she kept it from going SO MUCH MORE NUTS.

Now, moving on to TW, it is a fascinating mix of being the Exact same situation, and the exact Opposite. I'll add a Read More, cus' holy god is this a lot of Rambling.

Because Scott wishing not to have been bitten...yeah, the bite Did improve things. But it improved things for him. He would absolutely regret making the wish, just like Cordelia did, because he would realize how many good things the bite had brought with it. BUT, conversely, he would have to realize how many good things the bite had brought for him, not for other people, and how their lives either wouldn't have been affect, or might've even Improved without him being bitten. Without the bite, Scott wouldn't have gotten on first line, period. His health issues made very clear in the five minutes he had them that any kind of stamina based sport was just out of the question for him. If he is unable to walk through the woods at a moderate pace without needing to grab his inhaler and stop against a tree, he just plain cannot play lacrosse for two or three hours of running at high speeds and working a bunch of muscles in his upper body. He likely wouldn't have gone out with Allison, because he would have no convenient way to get her attention. Furthermore, he wouldn't have the extra senses that both impressed her on the lacrosse field, and told him about her 'family dinner' the night of Lydia's party. (I've discussed this before, but... While it's true, Allison would have still brought him the dog; that dog would likely have attacked him, and his chances with her would have been shot in the foot when they both got in massive trouble and he likely had to go to the ER for stitches or something. Without Allison or first line, he wouldn't have started hanging out with the 'cool kids,' and quite frankly, wouldn't have had anyone to help him study for the classes he was struggling with. It's true that he also wouldn't have had werewolf things to worry about, or even a girlfriend to distract him from homework, so maybe that wouldn't have been such a huge issue, but still.

If we look at other people's lives and how They would have been affected by Scott not getting the bite...well, let's talk about that.

Stiles didn't get on first line because of Scott, or because of a werewolf bite. Or even because of the werewolf bullshittery occurring in town. He was put on first line because of his abilities, and even after being taken OFF first line for missing the game, he was put Right onto the field in the next game, chosen OVER other players who were perfectly viable options. Which means, he still would've ended up on first line. Allison wasn't interested in dating before she met Scott, and part of her draw to him was based on how 'different' he was. He knew things she didn't know how he could know, he had a weird ability to calm a furious, injured dog, and he had charisma that was ALSO gained from the bite, since being on first line made Scott Much more self-confident. If she didn't end up dating him, it's likely she wouldn't have dated at all. Which would mean no hiding from her parents, no strange conflicts of interest, AND, interestingly enough --depending on her involvement in the murders, etc that would still be occurring in town--no night in the school that would scare her bad enough to ask Kate for extra help and tip her headfirst into hunter training. AND, even if she DID still end up getting those lessons from Kate? There would be no bitterness to fuel her behavior at the end of season 1.

Allison was Traumatized after Kate showed her Derek on the grate. She was horrified, and didn't know what to do about it, and while we can ramble all we want about the morality of her not confronting her family (whom she's just discovered is willing to electrocute people) about it, the fact is that she pushed the thoughts aside to stop freaking out and went to that dance. Where she found out Scott was a werewolf, and was So fucking Betrayed that she was willing to help Kate catch him and Derek. No Scott, no betrayal, no willingness to help Kate recapture the miserable man who'd been chained up in a basement.

If we go back to that specific night, and try to unfold the events from there if Scott hadn't been bitten, things get a little complicated, but I'll take a few artistic liberties. Scott isn't bitten. Presumably, he just happens to get out of the woods in time, or he gets caught with Stiles by the sheriff, or doesn't go to the woods in the first place. These all change the possible outcomes of that night. If he hadn't gone in the first place, and Stiles went alone, would he have been bitten instead? Would Scott have been dragged into all of this anyway, but without the protection and boost of being a werewolf and cured of his asthma? If he weren't the one bitten, and he saw everything Stiles gained from it, would he still have such a hatred for the bite? Or would he want it, like Erica did, to cure him and make him powerful and cool? But, let's assume Stiles doesn't get bitten either. The second half of Laura's body still hasn't been found, and Stiles has no reason to fear running back into the preserve the next day, and no real punishment from his father as far as we can tell. So, does he go back to look again? If he did, he would run into Derek, because Derek would still be there after retrieving Laura's body himself. He would see Derek and still recognize him, and from there, things might spiral, still involving Stiles in the supernatural, and it's likely Stiles would try to involve Scott, and Again we get hit with "Would Scott want the bite, if he hadn't gotten forcibly bitten in the first place?" The answer is probably yes. He wanted to be cool, and popular, and on the lacrosse team. He wanted everything being a werewolf gave him. BUT if we're looking at this wish as similar to "The Wish," then no matter what, Scott won't be bitten. He'll be transported to a new world where it just never happened, and he'll be human, and forced to watch everyone around him be just plain different. Scott not being bitten would isolate him from Stiles, if Stiles got involved in the spn anyway. We SAW how Stiles cut off his other friends once the spn starting getting in the way. He and Harley? We have no clue how close they were. They were close enough for her to tease him about his crush on Lydia, for her to wander up comfortably to the locker and talk to them. And he cut her off as soon as the werewolf stuff hit. What if he cut Scott off? To protect him, if nothing else, like he did his own father. Once he realized the danger involved, I doubt he would be willing to put Scott in harm's way.

So, Scott would not only lose first line, lose his girlfriend, lose his popularity, lose his health and strength and heightened abilities, lose his 'importance' to the goings-on of Beacon Hills, but he would also lose Stiles, who seems to have been his only friend, unless he also had a relationship with Harley.

Okay, I've rambled enough about the what if's, so let's talk about the Reason why this wish would go so badly for Scott, in such a different way than it went for Cordelia. Cordelia, first off, wished that someone Else would not have/do something, rather than wishing for herself not to have done something. She watches how fucked up the world gets, and how much worse her life is without Buffy around to save the day. Scott wished for Himself not to have done something (even something passive, like 'get bitten') and would have to watch how fucked up his world gets, and how far behind he would fall. The other's lives might not necessarily get better, because Peter is still on the loose, and the hunters are still there, etc etc, but they would still Progress, while Scott would stay stagnant.

And WHY is that? Because Scott isn't important to the story. It DOESN'T start with him. That's the Whole Point of his character. He is supposed to be the 'everyman' who gets dragged into crazy shit and becomes integral to things that he wasn't ever meant to be a part of. The guy who wanders into becoming King or 'The Hero' that will save the world, even though he's just a small lad from a tiny town, whose highest prospects were "get on first line."

He was NEVER supposed to be Buffy, or if he was, it was done Very Badly.

But Beacon Hills WASN'T a quiet town before Scott was bitten; however much he might've said 'nothing ever happens in this town.' It was FULL of bullshittery and magic from the very beginning. There was the fire, and Paige, and the blinding of Deucalion, and the death of Alexander Argent, and the Nogitsune in the internment camp nearby. All of these things were around So much longer than Scott's bite, and they'd been affecting the world that whole time too. Because yes, in Buffy, the master was There before she was, but he was literally rendered inert by the situations he was in. And the things he'd done happened Centuries before, not six years. There is a difference. Sunnydale was Not Known for the insane number of weird deaths. Beacon Hills was. And aside from the Nogitsune, every single fucking thing that happened in Beacon Hills, was attuned to the Hale family in one way or another. Deucalion's blinding occurred during a meeting on Hale land, because Talia was known as a wise leader, etc, in the area and other wolves flocked to her. Deucalion biting Argent seems unrelated (if you even believe Deucalion did that, despite being a fucking pacifist before Gerard blinded him), but again, it occurs just a couple hours away from Beacon Hills, which is Hale Territory. The one who plays the Buffy role here? Who shows up at just the right time, and launches themself against an endless wave of evil, with slightly enhanced senses and a thorough need to do good and not back away from things that 'aren't they're problem'? The actual hero who is somehow tied to everything going on in ways even they don't understand? Was Derek. The guy who entirely unwittingly allowed Julia Baccari to survive, because he was trying to be merciful to his first love. Who entirely unwittingly was manipulated into giving up information that let a hunter kill his family. Who followed his sister back to town after six years of just trying to survive in New York, fell into a fucking tragedy, and decided to stop the bad guys anyway, even though he knew he didn't stand a fucking chance.

And as annoyed as some might get. The 'everyman' who stumbles onto the set and accidentally becomes integral to the saving of the world? The one whose ambitions are small and who expectations are smaller? Who is misunderstood, and has abilities that aren't recognized or appreciated, that doesn't really fit in, but tries their best anyway? The literal Angel to Derek's Buffy?

Is fucking Stiles. The son of the sheriff who just could not let it go when he discovered there was something funky going on. Who hung around on the edges, even though he wasn't really wanted, because he needed to help. Who ended up saving Derek's life over and over, and becoming so important as to be Derek's anchor? Who literally WENT DARKSIDE and HAD TO BE NEARLY KILLED, even though Derek didn't to kill him???

I know how it sounds, but JD SAID he took inspiration from Buffy. The issue is that his parallels are between DEREK AND STILES, and BUFFY AND ANGEL. Respectively.

Derek might act like the broody bad boy, but it is STILES' mentality that matches Angel's behavior, and it's Derek who matches Buffy.

I'm so fucking off track. Scott would be miserable if he ever managed to get a wish and used it to keep from having been bitten. And it would be sad. I would feel bad for him, had I watched something like that happen. Seeing him realize that most of the good things he had, he only got because of the bite. That Stiles would still be on first line, that Lydia and Jackson would still be the popular kids. That Allison wouldn't know he existed, or if she did would avoid him entirely. That Jackson would never have been turned into the kanima in the first place. That everyone else would move on and up in life, and he would still be standing at the bottom step. Because it wasn't his actual limitations that were holding him back, it was his refusal to accept them, to work with them, and to just plain stop Envying Everyone Around him, and start living his own fucking life instead of trying to steal other people's.

Scott wishes he were Cordelia, and I promise that would backfire too.

[the-fandom-fuckup]

Kirikacchako? Please

I'm not sure if this is referencing a specific prompt from like.. An older post or not, but I've been on a bit of an au kick lately so I'm gonna use this as a plug for some of the aus/ideas I've had, so I hope that's alright ^-^

(I'd offer a doodle for your troubles but... I don't have any to offer rn gjskfksjfkak)

One of the most recent ideas I've had is Kirichako sirens x hoh/ace pirate Baku, in which Kirichako are a mated pair of sirens that travel the seas together to prey on unsuspecting sailors and Baku is a pirate that spends a bit too much time around the cannons n explosives, resulting in hearing loss over time

Upon meeting Baku for the first time Kiri n Ochako are both fascninated and peeved. Fascinated bc no one's ever looked them in the eyes during their song and resisted them like he has, and peeved bc immediately after staring at them Baku tried killing them with explosives

Like sure, they've met people on the seas that have been resistent to either their song or bodies before, but never someone who was unaffected by both. They didn't know whether to be more interested or insulted honestly

((They go with interested, but tell themselves they're insulted bc it's easier to admit))

N honestly I don't have much here, but they end up following Baku's ship around bc it has some good benefits (provides them with protection from bigger sea creatures, food from all the ships they destroy/people they fuck up), and also they just like bothering Baku until they get a reaction from him

They don't sing to him anymore, but they chitter at him n throw pretty sea trinkets up against the ship/into open cannon flaps for him to find later

The last thing I have for this idea is the courting process probably starts bc Baku tripped on the sea trinkets one too many times while carrying out his duties n gets pissed, so he goes up to the main deck to get their attention before chucking some sparkly, garbage thing back at them hoping to distract them enough to get them to fuck off. But the sirens look at their new gift and go wait... Returned gift?? A courting gift?? Which goes to kickstarts a whole new wave of bullshit lmao, rip Baku's sanity

Another idea I wanna shoehorn these guys into is my EnjiRei/TodoDeku mafia bodyguard au, but I'm not too sure on how to go about it tbh like

One one hand, I could have Kiri in with the Todorokis n Ochako in with All Might's group, and have Baku be the unsuspecting civilian just trying to live his life but has attracted the attention of both gang members, who then treat it as a rivalry of who gets Baku first but end up seeing each other as more than just rival groups when the gangs actually start working together n they get paired to run jobs, and has everyone spiralling into a mess of feelings and highjinks before leveling out to smth manageable

On another hand I could have a similar idea with Kacchako as the rivaling gang members and Kiri as the unsuspecting civilian, or maybe even some other underground member like an underground ring fighter or a runner or whatever, who gets scouted by the groups bc his reputation in the ring gets him a gig as some extra muscle or smth for an outside job

And then on the last hand I could have pre-established Kiribaku as the gang members (in the same gang this time) and Ochako as the civilian making bad deals with shady people for extra cash to try and help her family out of their shitty finacial situation, taking jobs she has no business taking (probably from the rising group that's fucking up everything for everyone else tbh) n catching the boys' attention bc "what's a pretty little thing like you doing in the sleazy part of town? Don'tcha know shit gets dangerous around here?" And they're endeared by her spunk n unwillingness to crumble under pressure so they take her under their wing to show her the ropes but also gives them their kicks bc they get off on corrupting her innocent n naive moral compass, all while being hunted by the other group bc she ditched their jobs n now has to face the consequences or smth, Idk idk

It would help if I had any understanding of how mobs/organised crime shit worked or even watched those kinds of shows/movies lmaofnakfmdjs

I'll finish it off with the modern fantasy au I've been thinking about bc I love it dearly, staring alpha werewolf Baku, alpha dragon Kiri, and bamf witch Ochako

At some point or other Baku gets the entire Bakusquad + Deku, Tetsu, Camie, and Ochako living in his packhouse bc he takes a great deal of pride in caring for his pack members and it's actually really easy for his alpha to categorise people as pack, but you'd have to pull out all his teeth before he admits it

Some of them just decided they lived there now n didn't leave, but both Kiri (+Tetsu) and Ochako were brought in by Baku bc his alpha's love language is acts of service/providing and clearly they both benefitted from the move so "why tf are you making such a big deal about it?? Just pack your shit n get it moved in, you've got a week"

Kirikacchako dance around each other hardcore in this au, to the exasperation of everyone else. The alphas try to play off their urges to provide n scentmark as subtly as possible, and since Ochako isn't aware of the meaning it goes pretty well. But literally everyone else is rolling their eyes n making bets on how long it takes them to get their shit together lmaojdidudj

A scene I have pictured for them (and the first one I came up with for this au) is Ochako going out somewhere and Kiri n Baku both casually scent her before she heads out, thinking they're all slick n shit. But as soon as she leaves Deku levels them with the most deadpan expression he can make n says "that was the least subtle thing I've ever seen in my life", and as Baku snaps n goes "I dunno what you're talking about" Kiri replies with a smug "I wasn't trying to be😏"

And like. Realistically the alphas know Ochako isn't really an omega, but she does share some traditional omega qualities that have their alphas going wild (period cycle=heat cycle, round n squishy but will fight you=strength n size for providing healthy pups + the ability to protect them, etc.) so it's understandable that their alphas would slip up n refer to her as their omega, right? Right??

It also doesn't help that after taking Ochako with them on full moon runs, she's been chatting with some of the betas n omegas there and asking how to better communicate with the boys (to avoid miscommunication, she says). But they've both marked her so much that the betas n omegas think she's their courted omega, so they teach her vocal cues n what they mean coming from an alpha, and teach her how to purr and chirp in response.

They don't think to mention the significance behind some of the cues they teach her bc why would they? Smelling as strongly as she does, there's no way those alphas aren't going to give her their bite n bond with her. Why would they need to explain some of the more provocative noises they teach her? They're just helping her for when her alphas decide it's the right time to mate her, is all

I haven't gotten around to how their tension n dancing breaks, but it does eventually n they do get together n bond and all that good stuff, and eventually they have werewolf/dragon/magic hybrid babies bc I have quirkbabes design in another au n I'm obviously dropping them into every au I possibly can bc I love them n put a lot of work into them (and they're super pretty, so I'm showing them off where ever I can assuming I actually draw smth for this au eventually rip)

And wow, this is getting kinda long n rambly so I'm gonna end it here, but I hope that this was kinda what you were looking for landkwidjdkwbf

If you wanna know more about any of the aus just let me know, I could ramble forever

Or if you have any other kirikacchako ideas you wanna hear about feel free to drop them off, I don't mind!! ^-^

[stainandscribble]

Moulin Rouge Sous le Ciel Bleu

 Red Mill under the Blue Sky

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun/Reader (female)

Genre: Moulin Rouge; rich!Baekhyun; 1920′s!Baekhyun; angst; fluff

Warning: mention of mature situations ;) 

Summary: Baekhyun never thought he would find love through the infamous Moulin Rouge, or that it would be the one place he could love you freely without the judging eyes of the upper classes. Love is not easy in 1920s Paris, but is love easy anywhere? There is only one thing you know, you love Baekhyun hopelessly and irrevocably, and he loves you just the same.

A/N: requested by the lovely, sweetest @bbyunz​, based on moulin rouge and Baekhyun’s solo Bungee. I hope I fulfilled your expectations. 

Word Count: 4154

In the Jardin de Paris, at the bottom of the hill at Montmartre neighbourhood, a bright red mill stood out in between the other buildings, demanding attention with its vibrant colour and eccentric exterior. Above the entrance to the garish establishment, large metal letters spelt out its name, Moulin Rouge. The Red Mill, for it was exactly what the building looked like. It certainly drew attention to itself, and Monsieur Byun didn’t doubt that was the intention of its owners. Moulin Rouge had become infamous in Paris, and Baekhyun didn’t doubt that was also the case for the rest of France too. The bright scarlet façade clashed with the crisp blue of the sky above it, making the building stand out even more during clear days like today. Looking at the red mill, Baekhyun would not have guessed that this was the building the city of love called The Bastion of Pleasures. It didn’t look pleasing to the eye, but it was a novelty, and it was the mill at the entrance that was one of the reasons for the establishment’s notoriety. That, and the women employed in the cabaret.

Young Monsieur Byun, that was what people called Byun Baekhyun, heir to an orient trading business and an expert in oriental imports. He had been sent to France by his father a year short of attending university to learn the French language and now, years later he was attending the prestigious Sorbonne, studying for a degree in Orientalism. He had become an expert to the Parisian socialites, helping them choose authentic China and silk fabrics, among many other goods, all from his family's import business of course.

But behind the posh and rich heir, he had become fascinated by the revolution, a movement started in the middle of the last century, a step towards freedoms and liberties that he had never known in his own home of Joseon.

That was how he ended up at the cabaret Moulin Rouge. And Baekhyun loved it. The thrill of doing something that in his own country would be uncalled for was exhilarating. Some days, he wished he was an artist or a poet. It was not that he could do neither, of course, he was excellent at both thanks to his extensive education. Yet, he wished sometimes that he could live off of the fortune he had and do as he wished, writing poetry, painting watercolours on rice paper and attending the cabaret.

Most importantly, in those senseless daydreams, he could love you freely.

You had met when he had come to consult you about some of the costumes you were making for a Moulin Rouge play. The settings were meant to be inspired by the Orient, it was meant to be exciting, exotic and beautiful all at the same time, and you needed help with the designs. As an orientalist, Young Monsieur Byun had visited you in your seamstress room. He was in awe of the detail you had put into the costumes and was glad to help you perfect the designs. Weeks later, he was back in your workrooms, inspecting the finished product, as well as the set of the music hall stage. Your rooms were not far from the Moulin Rouge, and so on his way back he visited you and your fellow seamstresses. He had liked your costumes and had given a good word on your behalf to the owners.

That was how you met and then proceeded to keep on meeting, each one ending with you smiling a bit brighter, his smile cheekier and cheekier.

----- 

Monsieur Byun often thought that it would have been easy; falling in love with one of the dancers. However, Monsieur Byun was not a man who took the easy way. He had remained unmoved by the dancers’ charm, flirtatious nature and womanly shape. He was an orientalist, coming to Paris from Joseon, and he had no desire for the boisterous women of the cabaret, notorious for their cancan.

Instead, he had taken the hard way. He fell in love with you.

It was a hopeless love. Hopeless in more than one way; because not only had he fallen for you head over heels, irrevocably and explicitly, but also because there was no future in which he could continue to do so. Your love was fleeting, not because the feelings disappeared, but because in this world, neither in France nor Joseon, could you love each other freely. It was a secret romance. Something forbidden.

A hopeless love.

You had always known it would not last, but nothing lasts and so you loved him the same way he loved you.

A mere seamstress could never marry him. He was classes above you, not to mention that he had no doubts his father had already chosen a merchant's daughter for him, one that was from Joseon, just like him, just like his father wanted.

Tonight though, he could spend in your arms, naked and wrapped in the soft sheets of his bed with you listening to his heartbeat while his long fingers combed through your hair.

It was a peaceful night. He had sneaked you into one of his smaller residences, where no servants could spy on the two of you. You had drunk dry red wine and enjoyed a baguette along with some camembert and red grapes. It had been a simple meal by his standards, but it was everything the two of you could have wanted tonight. 

In the middle of balmy summer, with the sun shining down in all its glory, warming you up and making all proper ladies sweat under their clothes, you had been kept busy by the constant repairs of Moulin Rouge costumes, as well as other work sent to you by the upper and middle-class women. You didn’t complain. it was good work, and it was always extra money- something you could never have too much of. 

Baekhyun did all the complaining for you, about how you didn’t have time for him, about how he was feeling neglected; about how you were too pretty to spend the days in a workroom rather than in the garden outside, basking in the sun and undoubtedly keeping him company.  

Finally, your work was done, and you had decided to take the day off and now, at the end of the day spent in Baekhyun’s arms, you were falling asleep in his arms, his light breathing felt like a summer breeze in your hair, and his golden skin was warm against yours. The body heat and the warm night had made it impossible to sleep under a duvet, and so you had opted for sleeping under a thin linen sheet. 

“Mon plus cher amour,” He had whispered into the air, my dearest love, he called you. and through the thin veil of sleep, you had responded to his calling, turning in his arms so that you could face him, your lips brushing against his as he spoke, the soft touch sending shivers down Baekhyun’s spine.

“Mon cherie?” You had asked, planting a cheeky kiss on his pouty lips.

“I do not wish to live without you.” He spoke, eyes gazing into yours with such tenderness you were unsure a mortal man could be filled with this much love. Surely, such deep feeling was reserved for a thing more holy than you; for women whose beauty lived on as legend, a kind of beauty captured by poems and songs and prayers. Not you; mortal, fragile, ordinary.

“Don’t say such things.” You spoke, the softness in your voice mimicking the tenderness in Baekhyun’s eyes. His breath hitched, and you could feel the rattling of his heart against your chest, its steady beat matching the rhythm of your own heart.

“They make me love you more.” You whispered, and your lover smiled at your words, his long fingers moving to grab your hand gently, before he brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles tenderly, his lips silky like rosebuds, flushed a deep pink as blood flowed through him, red and robust. His deep brown eyes didn’t leave yours for a second.

Hopelessly, you loved him.

------

The days without him came and went, and finally, after all work was complete, Baekhyun had decided to take you to the premiere of the new cabaret show, the one you had spent months sowing costumes for, and now he would allow you the pleasure of seeing the fruit of your labours, and you had a feeling it would be sweet. 

Tonight, he had taken you to the cabaret. The moulin rouge was packed with patrons, their cacophonous chatter before the show was like the beginning of a birdsong, somewhere deep in the rainforest, their words, not always French, sounded around the room like a flock of tropical songbirds, unorganised but joyous. You sat at a table for two, he dressed in a fine black suit, you in your best dress, your hair pinned up in a fashionable style you have seen many of your clients wear. When you looked in the mirror before you left the house, you could barely believe the woman in the reflection staring back at you was yourself. You wondered if Baekhyun had always though you this beautiful.

“You are exquisite. Never forget that, mon amour.” He leaned in to whisper into your ears, the dim light glowing golden against his skin, making the curve of his nose and the plushness of his lips even more refined, even more tempting. Your heart skipped a beat against your will. Soon after, the flock went silent, and you were left only with the melody of the orchestra, as the dancers entered the stage. Baekhyun sat in his chair, completely at ease as he sipped on champagne.

The show was exquisite, but no one expected anything less from the great Moulin Rouge. The dancers moved about on the stage in practised harmony. even their more chaotic routines were executed with utter grace and precision. Some dresses were shorter than others, some more scandalous. you had spared no skill stitching in feathers and sequins. Each costume was tailored, each thread perfectly in place, ever colour carefully selected.

“Something like this would never be allowed where I’m from.” Baekhyun whispered into your ear. Even without looking at him, you could feel that his eyes fell on the dancers and his lips turned into a smirk against your ears. You knew he was not speaking just about the cabaret.

“I’m glad it is allowed here.” He whispered when you didn’t respond, and a pleasant shiver went down your spine.

“They look pretty.” You said instead, eyes never leaving the stage. The dancers' span, their skirts twirling with them, exposing more of their legs, and the audience could not stop their noises of awe as they span.

“The dancers?” Baekhyun asked, taking another sip from his flute.

“Pretty women look good in pretty clothing.” You answered him with a nod, a smile playing on your lips when another round of cacophonous delight rippled through the audience.

“Are those your dresses?” Baekhyun smiled, eyes shining playfully as he carefully took in the colourful costumes, the plumes of feathers, the embroidery on the bodices and down the skirts.

“Oui.” You sipped your drink, allowing the buzz of alcohol to make the night even more enjoyable.

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked after a while, the feeling of Baekhyun’s deep brown eyes staring at you had become unnerving as the night went on, your second flute of champagne now standing empty in front of you.

“I can’t help it. You are like the moon.” He smiled, head tilting to look at you from a different angle.

“Drawing me to you.” He spoke, and his hand moved across the table to hold your one, his long fingers threading through yours.

You remained like that until the end of the show.

When the night was over, and he had draped your coat over your shoulders like a gentleman, a playful smile graced his lips, his eyes light with mischief.

“We went to the bastion of pleasures, and yet my biggest pleasure was watching you.” He told you, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, enjoying the blush that flushed your cheeks, both because of the champagne and because of him.

----

Another week passed, and you were once again in his chambers, lying among the soft sheets with a book in your hands as Baekhyun dressed. He was wearing a similar suit to the one he wore to Moulin Rouge; he had changed the jacket to one more appropriate to dinner. His hair was combed back away from his face, and you admired his straight eyebrows and dark lashes.

“How do I look?” He asked, tying a black bowtie in front of the mirror hanging above his dresser.

“Handsome as always.” You told him glancing at his slim silhouette over your book.

“You will be fine, Monsieur Byun.” You said when he turned around and sent him a wink.

“Whatever you say, Mademoiselle.” He smiled, walking over to the bed to bend down. In a flash, his plush lips were on yours, and you melted into the kiss.

Once he broke away to slip into his jacket, he glanced back at you, eyes filled with worry. You could tell there was tension in his shoulders and in the clench of his jaw.

“Enjoy yourself.” You smiled at him, trying to encourage him. Whatever was on his mind was weighing on him a lot. Enough to make him hesitant to tell you about it. It was an unusual occurrence.

“It’s just another business get together. I’m advising teapot purchases today.” He spoke, seemingly talking to himself, and you go up from the bed, wrapping your arms around his torso as you proceeded to stare into his eyes. Their warm brown reminded you of fresh morning coffee and chocolate.

“Joseon ceramics have become popular among those rich enough to import them.” He spoke, his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. Baekhyun buried his face in your hair, and you allowed him the silent moment of peace. He held you tightly against him, and you listened to his heart, sure and steady; just like him.

“Sell a lot of teapots then, mon cherie.” You told him, and he released you, giving you one last farewell kiss.

“Don’t miss me too much, mon plus cher amour.” He called out, making his way out of the room, and you could not help but smile at his retreating figure.

-----  

The dinner was a dull affair. The hosts were rich, as they always were, and loved to gossip, as they always did. Usually, Baekhyun had stayed clear of the ladies gossip, preferring to sit and drink whiskey with the gentlemen, but tonight he had found himself in the middle of the gossip. Not because he was particularly interested, but because he was the subject of it.

Standing around the room, numerous gentlemen conversed, some women also preferred to stay clear of the host’s wife, considering she was a ruthless gossip and could run her mouth like no other.  Unfortunately, Baekhyun was making his way to his business partner, Monsieur Park, when he heard the conversation.

The group sat on plush sofas, a small hardwood mahogany coffee table sat in the middle, home to a fine tea set, white porcelain with delicate lotus flowers painted in red for decoration. It was one of the models they carried last summer. Ironically, it was not a higher-end set.

“I heard he took his mistress to the cabaret last week. I wonder who she is.” One of the ladies spoke, her shrill voice piercing his eardrums. From her dress, Baekhyun could tell she was one of your clients. A similar dress, although green, rather than the acrid salmon colour this woman was wearing, was displayed in your shop window. He could recognise your handiwork anywhere now.

“Cannot be high standing that is certain.” Another woman butted in, and Baekhyun wanted to stop listening. Yet, somewhere deep inside, morbid curiosity kept him still, listening to those women insult you, his blood boiling under his skin.

“A Frenchwoman and a man from Joseon. In public!” The woman in salmon had screeched, and Baekhyun had to stop himself from cursing.

“How are you, ladies?” He put on a smile instead, walking straight into the women’s conversation, halting their gossip.

“I heard you ordered two tea sets, Madame.” He turned to look at an older woman, sitting between the two who were talking about you.

“Yes. My daughter is marrying into an upstanding family, I must make sure she brings only the best to her new home.” She had spoken, her nose turned almost comically upward, as she did her best to look at him with disdain.

“I hope you will be satisfied with the quality of our goods.” He had bowed lightly, a sickly-sweet smile still present on his lips, as he had no doubt anger peaked through his eyes. You always said you could tell he was angry when you looked into his eyes. He would have said something more, but Chanyeol had come to his aid, his jovial spirit lighting the mood surrounding the women.

“Ah, Monsieur Byun, I was looking for you.” He spoke, his deep voice filled with happiness as he did his best to steer Baekhyun away.

He took him off to the side, passing the shorter man a glass of scotch. Chanyeol’s large frame towered over him, shielding him from the view of the gossips.  His large hand came to clasp Baekhyun’s shoulder, squeezing him in reassurance.

“Young men are young men no matter where they come from. Do not listen to old gossips.” Chanyeol’s deep voice became a murmur, and Baekhyun had though his friend sounded more as if he was growling rather than speaking

“Thank you Chanyeol.” He muttered, drinking the scotch in gulps, too frustrated to sip the liquid. He found the burn of alcohol a good distraction.

“Better to love one woman than hate one woman.” His friend spoke, his equally brown eyes soft when they looked down on him.

“Any news from my father?” Baekhyun asked, changing the topic from one unpleasant thing to another.

“None yet. I’m not sure he even knows about her.” Chanyeol reassured him, a small smile playing on his lips. He sipped on his scotch.

“If he knew,” Baekhyun spoke, his heart beating frantically against his chest, making him dizzy before Chanyeol interrupted.

“You would be on a ship back by now, and that merchant’s daughter would be waiting for you at the docks.” He finished for him, drinking the rest of his scotch in one gulp, before going to refill their glasses.

 As the evening progressed, Baekhyun received more and more requests for imported ceramics. The requests ranged from tea sets to plates and bowls. By the time the dinner finished, his notebook was filled with names and catalogue numbers.

When Baekhyun returned to his home, he had discarded his coat and untied his bowtie. A few buttons of his white shirt were now undone, revealing his golden collarbone. He sat on the sofa of his living room sipping on more scotch from a crystal glass. You had discarded the book when he arrived and chose to sit beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. The fabric beneath you was velvet, more luxurious than you would ever be able to afford. You knew he had it custom made.

Apart from a greeting and a few quick kisses, Baekhyun had stayed silent. Despite the alcohol he consumed, the stress you have seen on his frame had not lessened. You watched from the corner of your eye as his jaw clenched and relaxed.

“Are you ready to tell me now?” You asked him, turning his chin towards you. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, before looking up into your eyes. He had always thought they looked like sapphires. Not because they were blue, but because they reminded him of the sea, deep and unexplored. They hid your heart, and so they shone like precious stones, reflected light like the stormy waters of the sea. Deep, so deep he lost himself in them and found himself in them too.

“I’m worried about my father.” He murmured, his angelic voice broke, heavy with uncertainty.

“We had known about your father from the beginning. We knew how this would end before it begun.” You told him, pressing your palm against his cheek, allowing Baekhyun to lean into your touch, basking at how warm he felt against you.

“What if I don’t want this to end?” He asked, and this time, you were the one to lose yourself in the depths of his irises.

You pressed your other palm to his cheek, and you kissed him. Passionately and without inhibition. Whether the ending was coming, or if it was already here didn’t matter. You loved him. You loved him hopelessly.

Baekhyun turned violet under your touch. He felt it seep into him when he pressed his lips with bruising force to yours, and when you grabbed at him in his bed, and again when you left purple marks over his collar bones, each one a visible stain on his body; something that reminded him he was yours, something to remind you that you were his.

-----  

Days passed in colourful monotone. You woke up in his bed, went to work and attended Moulin Rouge in the evening. Each evening was spectacular; each evening was the same. Moulin Rouge had become a place you had grown fond of. There, Baekhyun could sit beside you in public, show you off as a lover. Not many people paid attention in Montmartre, too focused on the idea of freedom and liberty. You shared their desires, shared the hope that one day the world would be easier to live in. You and Baekhyun fit in. The Bastion of Pleasures was an easy place to be in.

After one of the shows, when you had finally gone back home to rest, an unexpected guest made his appearance.

Chanyeol had come in one evening, just as Baekhyun rested in your lap, your voice soothing him to sleep. Chanyeol had come in with a letter. You could tell it was from Baekhyun’s father. The characters were unfamiliar, rendering you illiterate and blissfully unaware of the contents.

“Not good.” Baekhyun had risen from your lap, and as he read over the letter, he paced. Chanyeol had sat down beside you, his figure looming over you. You were not uncomfortable, resting in his shadow was a familiar feeling by now, but the expression on both of the men’s faces was making you uneasy.

“By the end of the following year, he wants you to return.” Chanyeol told them. His deep voice rumbled through the room, and his warm brown eyes looked down at you, and them at Baekhyun with such sorrow, you couldn’t make out who was more upset at the news.

“I understand.” Baekhyun stopped pacing and called out for one of his help to bring them some cognac.

“To one more year.” He toasted once the alcohol was poured into crystal glasses and handed to the three of them.

With a cheeky smile, you raised your glass, toasting with him. Reluctantly, and with a withered smile, Chanyeol raised his glass, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light, before taking a swig.

------

That night, you lay wrapped in Baekhyun’s arms, a cool breeze wafted through the open window, drifting over your naked shoulders as you gazed up at your lover.

“Let us leave. Run away.” Baekhyun muttered, his eyes shining in the darkness of his room, more serious than you ever saw him.

“And go where?” You asked, entertaining the idea.

“Anywhere my father doesn’t find us.” He told you, and you pressed closer to him, further into the security if his arms.

“Italy?” You asked, thinking of places too far away for the Byun business to chase you down to.

“Britain?”

“French Indochina?” You kissed him, a small smile playing on your lips.

“I don’t care where we go, I’ll love you anywhere.” He spoke, his voice soft, and now more than any other night, you knew he loved you.

Baekhyun had been ready to leave everything to be with you where his father could not interfere, and you were ready to leave with him.

“Let's go anywhere then.” You conceded, pressing a kiss to his lips, whispering words of love into his ears as he held you. He whispered them back, breathed love into you with his kisses, steady and reassuring beside you, and despite the chill of the air, you were warm.

Love was hopeless sometimes, but maybe this time, just this time, there was hope.

[captainsimagines]

Titanic || H.S

Part Four || “April 10, 1912″

“I’m the king of the world!”

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

     Bells were ringing for miles as crowds formed both before and at the ports, the buzzing of excitement and utter joy radiating through the doors of your overly-crowded automobile. Cheers from all the awaiting passengers contradicted your current mental state. For you, it was just another ship - simply new. You had stayed in overpriced rooms before, eaten at countless never-ending buffets, been given towels with a special “scent” which simply had a hint of cheap perfume, and even eaten from plates and utensils engraved with real gold. So the size of this ship, the luxury it supposedly had, or the brilliance of its story, did not do much to excite you. 

     You rolled a piece of thread in between your fingers and looked out your car window at the street. You could feel their shouts vibrating from the street below you, adding an extra rhythm to the automobile that seemed humanly impossible. You watched people dance and drink, and it took you only a moment to realize that these people weren’t even going to travel with you. They were simply here to enjoy the momentous atmosphere, watch history in the making, and say goodbye to their loved ones. 

     With your mother and Cal in deep conversation and George focusing on the outside world as well, you actually allowed yourself to smile. Perhaps this was a good thing - to travel back home and see just how much had changed. You admit, the political and social world was most likely unchanged and that London was much more lenient to who joined certain higher-ranked circles, but America must have some good qualities they adopted over the years. New inventions, food, culture and religion, play-writing - anything that you had an interest in you tried to think of as brightly American. You removed your hat to comb your hand through your thick hair and to wipe the excess sweat building on your hairline, the summer air becoming a little too musty for your liking.  Your smile remained bright as you reached the long lines of actual passengers, both second and third class, going through their health inspections and bag checks. Lots of them would stop and stare at the first class carriages and automobiles that passed them quickly, some annoyed and some fascinated. It never bothered you when the lower class mocked you or spoke ill of the current political and economic systems, as you whole-heartedly agreed with them. If your late father taught you one thing it was that the system was deeply flawed and would remain that way as long as those in power who have never experienced injustice in their lives were allowed to live believing in business as usual. And yet, the total irony of you marrying into one of the wealthiest and greediest capitalist families in Europe was forever going to feel like a knife twisting into your back. 

     Just as your car passed the last round of third class health inspections, you leaned further toward the window to get a better view of the group of children laughing and pushing each other side to side. You grinned widely as you passed them, but your face fell almost instantly as you noticed the look of disgust from an older man. In the short seconds of that encounter, he had looked through your veil of upper-class protection and judged the color of your glowing skin, something that most people in your social circle in London chose to ignore. With your father’s influence and money, this issue was never even labeled as such, but to someone in another world, you were likely worth less than the piece of paper granting you passage on board. 

    You swallowed hard and leaned back against the red velvet seat, pulling your hat right back on to avoid the stares of the real world. 

     Over on the other side of the docks, just a mere distance from all the packed commotion, Harry held onto his sister’s hands as she said her goodbyes. 

     “Don’t you go spending all that money on art and women, you hear?” 

     Harry gasped and faked a gag, smiling down at his sister. “How rude of you to even think of me spending money on art I can simply draw myself and women I can woo with no fee.”

     Both his sister and mother leaned in for a giant shared hug, each one already imagining the next time they would see each other. 

     “It’s only a few months. You’ll be in the states with me before you know it,” Harry snuggled closer to his mother as she hugged him tighter. 

     “I know, but it’s the first time you’re leaving home on your own and…” she choked on a gasp, barely holding it together. The amount of prayers she recited last night didn’t seem efficient and she made a mental note to say double the moment she returned home. 

     “I’ll be okay. I’ll write as soon as I’m settled.”

     “Just be careful, okay? I hear they’re not as kind as we are here across the Atlantic,” his sister laughed, giving him one final, tight side squeeze and handing him his carry-on bags. 

     “You know, I heard that, too,” Harry joked. 

     “Be careful, we’re not joking,” his mother said, grabbing his chin gently and turning his face toward hers. “We’re not joking. Be safe.”

     Harry leaned down and kissed his mother’s forehead, rubbing her back up and down rapidly as if that somehow kept his own tears at bay. But he grinned brightly and placed another kiss on his mother’s forehead and on his sister’s, and reached down to pick up his two carry-ons and his father’s briefcase. 

     “I promise. I love you both. The stars will tell you where I am and who I’m with.”

     His sister was the first to let him go, “Alright, my little scientist! Get going and make us some money!”

     Harry laughed loudly, patiently waiting for his mother to release her grip. “Not a scientist, but an amateur astronomer!”

     His mother sniffed into her elbow and quickly rubbed her cheek, looking away momentarily before she collected herself and gave Harry her best broken but proud smile. 

     “Love you.”

     Harry nodded with deep understanding, leaned in for one final goodbye kiss, and crossed into the massive crowd. He looked over his shoulder and yelled out for both of them. 

     “I promise to make my girls proud!”

          It looked like every other ship you had ever been on, minus the shiny new floors and number of installed elevators. It almost angered you how disappointed your own disappointment made you, like nothing ever made you feel truly elated, truly surprised, truly ecstatic. But as you ignored the looks of other passengers and the excessive whining from your own mother, you started to see the little details other passengers were sure going to miss. Like the delicate stitching in all servant uniforms, the woodwork on the massive clock leading into the dining area, and the use of electricity in even the thinnest corners of each room. 

     Even the servants knew better than to comment on your true royal status with Cal beside you, who was in fact failing to find even one flaw on the ship. You quite admired that actually - something you could fully agree on. 

     “This is so gorgeous,” Cal whispered beside you, your arm intertwined with his. You nodded in agreement, absentmindedly keeping the same pace as him. It took a few more minutes to finally make it to your living quarters - three separate rooms, each with their own living rooms and bathrooms. You thought it too much for yourself and wondered why your mother didn’t request adjoining rooms between you and her. 

     Without even entering your room first, your mother ventured into her own and started ordering her maids and servants around. You breathed in deeply, ready to see your living situation but were gently pulled back to let Cal walk through the door first. You stopped momentarily, puckering your lips in slight annoyance but followed behind him nonetheless. 

     “Even more beautiful than the hallway!” Cal laughed after his joyous exclamation, falling lazily on the first couch he saw. You couldn’t help but giggle at his childishness, watching him with a tiny grin as he reached over to play with the fresh flowers and their heavy vase. 

     “Perhaps the open sea breeze makes a person absolutely giddy because I have never seen you smile this much from inanimate objects,” you said, placing your handbag on the circular table and removing your gloves. 

     Cal rolled his eyes playfully and jumped up from his laying position to run to the brunch table full of sweets and bread, a first-class greeting for Titanic’s most distinguished guests. He popped the first sweet he saw into his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. He groaned softly and waved you over, already picking up the second serving to give to you. You walked slowly, eyebrows furrowed due to his laid back nature, but decided to give in and lean your head forward, mouth open to be fed. He placed the sweet on your tongue and awaited your reaction as you chewed, grinning widely once your eyebrows raised in amazement. 

     “I am never wrong!” Cal laughed, picking up some bread instead, and offering you a piece. But before you could reach over and grab it, Cal threw it in his own mouth and ate it. You gasped playfully, mouth wide open and genuine laugh escaping from it. Cal smiled wide enough to crinkle his eyes, and he reached over to wrap you in a backwards hug, with your back pressed against his chest and his head in between your neck and shoulder. You howled with true happiness, your sounds becoming louder as he proceeded to step with you all over the room and tickling your side at the same time. With enough strength you pushed him away and ran to the outside deck with Cal hot on your trail. He ran after you, dodging the servants with luggage in their arms and their questions of where to put them, following you out on deck and gripping your wrist in time to twirl you around beautifully. This time you ended up face-to-face, gripping onto each other and chests still racking with laughs. 

     The crinkles on both sides of his eyes remained, and you felt your heart stir for him. He was always so rigid but in this moment he was carefree and young, absent from duties and absent from the raunchy world he was so accustomed to. Here you saw a side of him that you could definitely get used to. But that’s just what it was - a side, not all of him. Before you could assume more of the negatives of this situation, Cal leaned down and captured his lips with yours. His lips were smooth and experienced, moving slowly against your timid ones. And just how quickly the kiss came, it disappeared. The minor moment of intimacy was too little for your liking, but it still counted as the first time you weren’t disgusted by Cal’s attitude or personality. It confused you how swiftly your mind changed and concocted the perfect fantasy of Cal and your upcoming marriage. Like a spell’s flame ignited and burned your whole internal wall down. 

     Before either of you could comment, you were interrupted by a servant who began rapidly excusing himself. He exited the deck and left you there, still in Cal’s arms. You wanted to speak but Cal simply smiled, kissed your forehead, and let you go. 

     “We must finish unpacking and decorating if we want to be front row during the Captain’s welcome speech.”

     And with that, Cal stepped back into your living room and began helping the servants put up the paintings he had dismissed you on earlier. You stood there perplexed and could only muster up enough energy to lean over the railing and watch the waves hit the side of the ship and the docks you still hadn’t departed. 

     Apologies sprung from Harry’s mouth as quickly as he ran, pillowcase full of clothes over one shoulder and his father’s briefcase with all the family’s important documents and the freshly printed photographs in the other. He bumped into dozens of shoulders but even as he yelled his apologies, he didn’t look back. He was finally leaving for the promised land of opportunity, a place where he and his family could establish themselves and their business. New flavors introduced to the Americans would for sure boost business, and Harry was so excited to be the first of his family to step foot outside of London. Just being at the docks was the farthest his family had traveled. 

     The ship was vast in length, somehow seeming larger as Harry ran toward the third-class boarding area. He could see the crew was beginning to clean up, unhitching the ropes from the dock and removing the boarding stairs. His feet were already burning, but he sprinted as fast as he could, yelling at them to wait for his arrival. People stared at him, throwing themselves out of the way as he crashed into shoulders and knocked bags off horses. The background check and health inspection lasted longer than he had expected, all of the poking and prodding seeming more purposeful than necessary.  

     One particular horse came close to knocking Harry off his feet, and his belongings scattered over the dock floor. Harry cursed under his breath and quickly gathered his bags back into his arms, looking up every so often to check if the ship had departed without him. 

     “I got this for you, man.”

     Harry searched the floor for his important briefcase and but instead saw it held out for him to take. Harry thanked the man for his help, and before he could say anything else, the man spoke up cheerfully. 

     “Come on, we got a ship to catch!”

     Harry beamed at his new acquaintance and sped down the docks beside him. With two of them side by side, almost everyone jumped out of their way as if it was instinct. They continued to laugh at each other with each short tumble the other took, enjoying the quick pace at which they were traveling. 

      They both stumbled onto the attached railing that was being pulled away from the main entrance of the ship. The officers asked for their tickets almost immediately and Harry rolled his eyes. 

     “We’re passengers, here.”

      Both Harry and his running mate handed over their tickets for quick inspection. 

      “Have you been through all inspections?”

      The man behind him held up his bags in complete annoyance, “Why do you think we’re late?”

      The officers just nodded, letting both of them through the door. Together they hopped onto the ship and dashed down every corridor, following the signs for third-class passengers. 

   “I swear I didn’t think we’d make it!” Harry shouted, still muttering tiny apologies to those he shoved as he passed. 

     “Luck seems to be following me around lately,” the man laughed, following Harry down the flight of stairs. 

     “What room are you staying in?”

     “B60.”

     “You’re joking.”

     The two stopped to compare tickets, scoffing in astonishment. 

     “Hello, roommate!” the man smiled. “Name’s Drake.”

     Harry put one of his bags down on the floor and pushed his briefcase under his left armpit to extend his right arm out for a handshake. “Harry.”

     “You stopping in Ireland or New York?”

     “Going all the way to New York City,” Harry beamed, and he picked up his bag again and started for their shared room. 

     “Awesome, same. I’m actually from Montana but since New York will be the only stop in the states, I figured I would just hitchhike my way home.”

     “I thought I heard an American accent,” Harry chuckled. He rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the room number they were assigned. He opened the door and peeked his head through to make sure everything was decent for the door to be held wide open. Once the coast was clear, Harry opened the door widely and threw his heavy luggage onto the bottom bunk in the far corner. 

     “Oh, awesome. I get top bunk,” Drake cheered, also hauling his bags onto the bed. Harry ducked into his bunk as Drake jumped up onto his, the two settling in quite easily compared to the unorganized chaos outside their room. 

     The small room was designed to offer the least comfort possible, but it was still better than most of the rundown apartments in the middle of London. The walls were white, with the ship's pipes extending across the ceiling and down the side of the adjoining walls. Two brown blankets were folded on top of each bunk, and a pillow with minimal fluff was tightly tucked underneath the bedspread. The room offered one sink and three bars of wrapped soap, toilet paper, and an unlit lantern that would be useful for late night trips to the washrooms. Even with such limited offerings, it was way more than Harry expected. 

     “How many other people are joining us in our room?” Harry asked while grabbing the two blankets from the end of his bed for a quick nap. 

     “Two other men, I believe. Pretty sure that’s what the two empty beds across the room are for.”

     “Oh. Oops.”

     Harry laughed at himself and snuggled deeper into his blankets, letting out a deep and relaxed sigh. 

     Drake leaned over the side of his bed to look down at Harry, a confused grin on his face. “You’re seriously going to take a nap and not explore the ship?”

      Harry winked one eye open and turned his head slightly upward. “After this nap.”

     Drake pondered for a moment, but he silently agreed, and became victim himself to the comfort of cotton blankets and a hard mattress. 

      The Captain spoke so eloquently, so loud and coherent, that his welcome was felt by everyone in the crowded first-class lounge area. He was met with praises and generous words as he greeted the crowd and his crew, tipping his head slightly as if to nod and remain mostly nonverbal. 

     Cal, of course, wanted to put his name into the Captain’s hat, so he pulled you along absentmindedly until you were in front of the Captain himself. As Cal droned on, you noticed how the Captain was practically trained for this, the tipping of his head and low grunts of amused agreement speaking for themselves. He was an elder man, around his mid-sixties it seemed, with pearl white hair neatly combed over toward the left side of his head, and a thick beard that matched his serious look. 

     As Cal began mentioning the architecture of the ship and asking the Captain’s crew just how fast the ship was able to go, the Captain turned toward you and held his hand out. He gave you a warm smile, introduced himself and proceeded to place a delicate peck on your gloved hand. You smiled back but had to contain the chuckle scratching its way up your throat as you caught a glimpse of Cal’s look of bewilderment. 

     “You must be the beautiful child of the famed American-Indian Lieutenant. The King of all Aztec riches and oil,” the Captain praised. 

     You nodded, “His one and only child, yes.”

     The Captain’s smile grew impossibly bigger. 

     You continued, “My father’s legacy branches farther than the oil industry. I am proud to say he was funding countless important causes.”

      The Captain beamed, “I have heard! Civil rights, the fight for free land, uh… what am I missing?”

      “Equal rights for women.”

     The Captain chuckled, “He was quite determined, I may say. Ridiculous, but determined.”

     Before you could say anything else, Cal sweeped in to take the same hand the Captain had kissed earlier. 

     “Yes, my fiance’s bloodline sure loved to mix the order of things. When we settle in America we’re mainly going to focus on the railroad and mining industry.”

      You gave a scarce grimace. 

     “Railroading! Invest where the money is, Sir! Art, automobiles, electricity, and dare I say civil rights!” the Captain laughed, patting Cal on the shoulder and leaving to greet the other passengers. 

     Cal stood still for a second and although you wanted to comment, you knew better. Instead, Cal seemed to knowingly pinch your hand a little too hard to the point you winced. But he cleared his throat, let you go,  and simply walked the other way. 

     Their short nap made them miss the ship’s departure, but the second they awoke, Drake and Harry dashed through third-class lounging to the bow of the ship. The nice cool breeze pinched Harry’s cheeks as he ran, the faint feeling of ocean droplets flying through the air.

      They reached the very tip of the front, cautiously looking over to somehow calculate the exact speed at which they were going. Dolphins raced each other beside the ship, acknowledging they had an entertained audience on board. 

     “You don’t think the ship’s gonna hit them, right?”

     Harry let out a loud and uncontrolled laugh, “Well, now I do!”

    Drake climbed onto the railing, carefully balancing himself with one hand gripping the thick iron strings. He stretched out his free arm, staring off over the horizon and enjoying the feeling of a rushed breeze slapping his chest. 

     “I swear I can see the Statue of Liberty already!” Drake yelled. 

     Harry grinned and climbed onto the railing as well, mimicking Drake’s position as to not accidentally fall overboard. 

     “Oh, this is madness!” Harry screamed, his hair flying all over the place. But he seriously could not contain the giant smile that widened with each new jump of a dolphin, Drake’s howls of joy, and with the ever changing color of the bright blue horizon. 

     It seemed to all be coming together - the colors, the voices, the American dream. Harry could feel the excitement in the pit of his stomach, and he swore it could not grow any larger for risk of actually exploding. But similar to his pondering back home in his chilly room, that luck that Harry had following him around was definitely to blame for such an adventure. 

     Harry raised a clenched fist in the air and joined Drake in all the howling. 

     “I’m the king of the world!”

          Dinner went as expected. You were quiet and polite, only speaking when spoken to, and the same tunes of violin screeched beside your ears. It made you miss more gentle rhythms, more upbeat sounds, and a much more excited band. European music was beautiful, but it seemed rich individuals only enjoyed the same three songs. 

     You drew a warm bath in your private bathroom after saying goodnight to both your mother and Cal. You weren’t expecting any further intrusions, and you swore that if any knock sounded from outside while you were in the bath, you would kill them. You had reached the end of your tolerance for today. And no matter how much you tried to prevent it with cold water on your face, vanilla candles, and your own private batch of special herbs, the first stages of a long migraine sneaked their way through. 

     You lay in the warm water thankfully undisturbed, big toe playing with the tub handle and a glass of champagne in your hand. It was all quiet now, the only sounds being your breaths and the tiny bubbles in your bath popping almost silently. Without another thought, you placed your champagne down on the side table and sucked in a deep breath, plunging your head underneath the water. Your thick hair swam in every direction, tickling your shoulders. You kept your eyes tightly shut and counted. 

     Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 

     Once your lungs felt too constricted, you came back up and rubbed at your eyes. You cleared your nostrils and rubbed at your lips, the outside reality still unchanged. No noise, no new presence - just calmness. 

      And the water was becoming cold. 

-- 

Please tell me what you think and if I should continue! Please also let me know if you would like to be tagged in any updates. Reblogs would certainly help this story reach even more people. Thank you. - xxMoni

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

could i request a diego x genderneutral!reader where when they come back to the sparrow academy timeline or sum the reader is in the sparrow academy and then they both fall head over heels for each other?? like lots of fluff and angst??

This could’ve turned out better but I hope you enjoy 💞

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff

***

Diego Hargreeves thought he’d seen it all.

And he also thought that they saved the timeline, too. Finally stopped the apocalypse that started this whole thing.

Well in a way they did, but there were just... complications now. 

The Sparrow Academy.

A contrast to The Umbrella Academy in nearly every way, it was difficult to wrap his head around the idea of Reginald adopting a whole new bunch just because he messed up the one he had before.

Even though he already hated the man, it was still upsetting to see how easy he moved on and created a whole new academy based off their basic humanity; insulting even.

So Diego, as the rest of his siblings did, looked at them as a threat at first. They had powers, just like them—they had just found out about Lila—so it was not much of a surprise to discover that there were others.

You caught his attention right away. 

Diego wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but you were quiet unless the rest of your... siblings, and you didn’t give them the stink eyes the rest of them were quick to give, but rather one of curiosity and something else, something that he couldn’t decipher.  

So, he watched. 

Your powers weren’t as extraordinary as some of your siblings, but you were powerful enough on your own. You were aware of the weariness The Umbrella Academy showed towards your family and, really, you didn’t blame them one bit for it. Vanya and Klaus was probably the kindest to you out of the seven the first time around. The others, sans Diego, left you alone soon after introductions—you knew Five kept an eye on you, always prepared for an attack.

Diego, however, seemed to pay attention to you when you didn’t know it, and quickly found this out when you were discovered in the one part of the mansion that everyone knew not to bother you in.

“You’re quiet.”

You jumped, surprised that you didn’t hear him at all. A bolt of energy flashed from your hands, hitting a nearby shelf that knocked a pile of books over; they landed with a series of loud thumps, making you wince.

Diego, however, regarded the incident with raised eyebrows, but not a trace of judgement on his face.

“And you’re nosy,” you countered back.

He nodded his head, as if in agreement—well, maybe it was.

“So what’s your power?”

You hesitated, and he caught on to it quickly.

“I can throw knives,” he said awkwardly, bringing said knife up in his hand.

That got you to smile. “Energy manipulation. I come up here when things get to be... too much.”

He sat down slowly and carefully sat on a desk nearby, as if he was scared to disturb the quietness that surrounded the room.

“When does that happen?” He asked with a tilt of his head; he didn’t seem to mind the bangs that slightly covered his eyes. “I mean, what triggers them.”

You shifted in your chair that sat a little away from him—he was close enough that you could see the fainted scars that littered his face and neck—and sighed.

“Well it’s a lot of things, really,” you said with disdain. “Sometimes loud noises will set me off on my really bad days—bad days as in, a minuscule argument with my siblings or forgetting my lessons, etc. My powers don’t just stimulate from my hands, but I can sorta absorb energy, too; human, electrical, whatever it is, I can get it for the most part.”

“‘Sorta, ‘’most part’,” he mocked with a light tone. “Gotta be more specific.”

“Right now you’re nervous. Not too nervous, but I can feel the uncertainty rolling off you since you got here—not that I blame you.” You waited for him to nod. “And I can feel that; it comes to me like a... a weight to my chest, I guess you can say; extra baggage to my own emotions and most of the time I have trouble controlling them.”

He seemed to get it by the way he continued to nod. “Makes sense.”

You chuckled. “So I come here to calm down, otherwise you’d be seeing a lot more of those flashes around the house. The worst that’s ever happened is when I shattered all the windows and nearly destroyed every bit of furniture in the house.”

He laughed. You decided right then and there that you really liked the sound of that.

“I would’ve liked to have seen that. The look on that mans face...”

He trailed off, looking down at his feet. You felt the anger and hurt roll off him, and you had to take a few deep breaths to settle them down.

“It must be weird, being here. How different is it? Your timeline and my timeline, I mean.”

He shrugged, twirling his knife mindlessly, it being second nature to him. “Not by much from what I can tell so far, but I’m sure we screwed this timeline up just like we did the other, something my family and I seem to be very good at.”

You frowned, scooting your chair closer to him. He watched you carefully as you did but made no objections.

“Nah, shit like that just... happens.”

He gave you a quizzical look that made you feel small all of a sudden, yet not in a bad way, but in a way where he was studying you; then, a new wave of fascination bubbled within you.

Then he grinned. And it made your heart skip a beat at the way his face spread so happily, so carefree. 

You talked all night about your lives. You were a little shocked to hear what Diego had to go through living with Reginald, and wanted to curse the man even more for his selfish and abusive behavior. It made you feel closer to him, though, and you could feel the same for Diego. It took some time, but he continued to open up to you, giving you pieces of himself that you returned equally.

It took months for you to realize you were in love with him. And it fucking scared you. You’ve never felt this kind of intensity before, it felt like being reborn, almost; like you were a completely different person yet the same, still.

Your first kiss only heighten the feeling.

“Wow,” you breathed against his lips, breathless and grinning like a fool—Diego matched it with a chuckle, caressing your cheeks fondly while keeping his forehead pressed against yours.

“Wow times infinity,” he said dumbly, making you both giggle before he muffled it with his lips.

It was the best feeling in the world.

But you hated having to sneak around. It was something the both of you agreed on, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention towards you or have Reginald’s wrath darken your love for each other. Not being able to kiss him whenever you wanted, or hold him or even look at him a certain way was starting to get the best of you, no matter the reassuring words Diego spoke to you in the safety of his arms.

“Nobody is gonna take you from me, got that?” His breath tickled your neck. “You don’t have to worry so much, not when I’m here to help.”

“I know,” you scooted closer to him, eager for his warmth. “But I can’t help but feel that everything is going to turn bad, and it just makes me feel so helpless.”

He shook his head, shushing you gently while cradling the back of your neck; your blankets tangled around your bare feet, legs intertwined together and naked chest pressed tightly against one another. 

“We got this,” he said confidently. “You and me.”

Your heart soared. He made you feel safe no matter the situation at hand, and that night you felt nothing but unwavering dedication and love, so much fucking love that it threatened to tear you apart in all the best and worst ways. 

“You and me.”

His lips distracted yours for the rest of the night until he had to climb out your window. Every time you watched him disappear into the dark—after a wave and a kiss blown to your direction—a piece of you left with him.  

Reginald found out about your secret relationship quicker than you thought he would. As usual, he was upfront and brutal about it.

“I forbid it,” he scolded the two of you like you were children. “They do not belong here and you have no right to interfere with these failures, and I will not have them bring you down. You have much potential and a lot of work ahead of you, don’t waste it on him.”

You ran up to your room before you let your powers best you, Diego quickly following in your steps.

You didn’t say anything at first, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Diego gave you space by leaning against the wall in front of your bed, watching you carefully with his arms crossed across his chest.

“He’s right,” you finally whispered. “This isn’t your place anymore or even the right timeline or whatever it is for you... and you shouldn’t have to deal with this anymore.”

“And neither should you,” he said sternly. “You don’t have to take that from him.”

“I know but—“ you bit down on your lip, hoping the tears wouldn’t escape.

“Just come with us,” he begged, holding on to your hands. “Or I’ll... I’ll stay. I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you shook your head; you could feel it starting to pulse, the raging emotions flying beyond your control and starting to overtake your senses. “They’re your family and I can’t make you leave them, not when you just got them back. And I’m sorry, but I have to stay here with mine, too.” As much as you loathed them at times, what you were saying wasn’t false—you still loved them dearly and the thought of leaving them behind hurt you. 

Diego had gotten good at detecting when your powers were climbing in intensity. He slowly placed his forehead on yours, telling you to match his calm breaths.

“We can get through this,” he said quietly after a few moments. “But it only works if we leave. At least out of this house and away from them.”

Your bottom lip shook as the tears started to fall. “They still need me too. Just like your family needs you.” You backed away from him, your heart breaking and shattering into pieces at the way his entire face fell; that look would haunt you for the rest of your days, knowing that you were the cause of it.

“So y-y-you’re g-g—” He frowned, frustrated with his stutter that only came out when he was extremely nervous or upset; it made you feel like the biggest piece of shit in the universe. “Going to l-leave me then? Just l-like that?”

You hugged your arms across your chest, as if it would help ease the stinging the rang painfully through your chest. “I don’t want to,” you admitted with a whimper. 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. It was getting to be overwhelming and you weren’t sure how long it was going to be before your sobs would tear from your throat. 

“Then don’t,” he sighed in defeat, taking a few tentative steps closer to you. “You don’t have to listen to him just because he gave you this big ass mansion, or or made you feel like this was the only place where you would get help and be accepted for who you are. Your family will understand that.” He was desperate at this point, unwilling to be under Reginald’s thumb, or The Umbrella’s or the Sparrow’s anymore, and he wasn’t about to let you fall. “I love you. Just...” he placed his forehead back on yours, giving you the chance to move away. When you didn’t, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him until there was barely an inch of you that wasn’t touching him. “Please.”

You thought about how loved Diego made you feel. You thought about your siblings, the Umbrella Academy. You thought of Reginald, and a life away from him, away from the end of the world and time travel and different timelines; of found love, of how it felt like you were barely seen, like you were a bomb that could explode any second over the stupidest little things, how Vanya had just started to help you with your powers as she understood where you were coming from. 

Was it really worth it? Throwing it all away because of one man, because of uncertainty? 

“Okay,” you finally whispered. “Let’s go.”

His eyes immediately lit up, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling through the tears. “Just you and me.”

He kissed you before you could take another breath and fuck if you cared, as long as his lips were on yours. You could get through just about anything as long as you had each other, this love and guidance and acceptance, and that’s all you needed in the end. 

“You and me.”

[sunlightdances]

Stay a Little Longer (Dean x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Rating/warnings: Warnings for bad descriptions of injuries and medical care, because I am not a doctor. No real warnings except for a swear word or two. Prompt: “Let me take a look…” Summary: You let yourself be vulnerable and Dean does too. Author’s Note: There’s literally no reason for this fic other than I wanted to write some protective Dean and found family dynamics. That’s it.

You curse quietly as you look in the mirror in the hotel room, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see a deep cut running down your side. You flinch away from your own touch and let your shirt drop, sighing.

Sam is sprawled across one of the beds in the room, asleep already. Dean’s got the TV on quietly, nursing a beer, eyes glazed over like he’s not really paying attention. You’re pretty sure he’s just waiting for you to turn the light out so he can go to bed.

You move to the bathroom, deciding to take care of it there. Digging around in your duffel bag, you sigh in relief when your hands close around the small square box, your medkit, your savior on this late Tuesday night.

You steel yourself for the pain of the first stitch after you disinfect, but the sting still takes you by surprise. You grit your teeth and hiss, and that’s what catches Dean’s attention in the other room, his eyes narrowing as he glances at the semi-closed bathroom door.

He stands, wincing at the pain in his lower back, before taking a few steps closer and knocking lightly with his knuckles on the door. “You okay?”

You look up, eyes watering, but smiling nonetheless. “Been worse.”

Dean’s eyes flash as he takes in the length of the wound running along your ribs, and he’s stepping into the bathroom before he can stop himself, pulling the door shut behind him. “Jesus,” he says, low, voice tight with worry. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You want to shrug, but you don’t. You don’t say anything, actually.

You’re still new at this, at having people around. People who care if you’re hurt.

You were half dead when they found you a few weeks ago, ambushed by a vampire who was already half dead himself.

You didn’t want a hospital and didn’t have any other options, so you went willingly when they suggested you come back to the bunker with them. You only planned on staying for a few days, but you just…. Stayed. It’s nice, having a home base. It’s nice, having other people around when normally it would just be you and your thoughts. But again, you’re not used to it.

Just like you’re not used to having someone worry about you.

Dean’s taken the medical kit from your hands, and is bent over slightly inspecting your wound. “A lot of stitches ahead of you,” he comments quietly, seeing the first few stitches you’ve already done.

You hum in agreement, feeling a little off balance by how close he is. Either that or the blood loss.

“Let me take a look.”

He’s stepped away from you now, waiting for your approval. When you nod, the breath he releases sounds something like relief, and you’re wondering if anyone besides his brother gets to see this side of him.

You heard of the Winchesters long before you met them. There were so many rumors - hunts they did or didn’t do, catastrophes they either averted or started. You heard that Sam always had his nose in a book, and Dean was a lothario.

Again, you’ve only been with them for a few weeks. But it’s enough to know that everyone was wrong.

They’re both smart, probably the smartest people you’ve ever met, especially about hunting. They’re kind, and a little callous, and Sam has a dark side that no one talks about, but simmers there under the surface, especially in the heat of a fight when someone he cares about is in trouble.

And Dean? Dean is a flirt, to be sure. He’s confident and strong, but underneath that is someone vulnerable, who sees every hunt as a threat to his family, and family is the one thing he holds above everything else. He’d sacrifice everything if it meant his family is safe. You’re not naive enough to assume that includes you, but you know that he wouldn’t have let you into his home in the first place if he didn’t think he could trust you.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he continues the next few stitches - much straighter than yours had been, trying to reach the top of the gash with your non-dominant hand.

He’s focused, his hands steady as he pulls you back together.

It feels strangely intimate.

He must think so too, because he swallows hard when his free hand presses down on your ribs lightly, trying to keep you still as your sensitive skin jumps with every pull of thread.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his breath fanning out across your exposed skin. You have to hold in your shiver.

It takes him almost a half hour in total to get you stitched up properly, and you could swear he takes extra time, his fingers lingering a little bit longer than they should have.

You’re exhausted, and can tell he is too - the shadows under his eyes more prominent than they usually are.

“I’ll let you get dressed unless you need help,” he says quietly, but you shake your head.

“I got it. Thank you, Dean.”

When you come out of the bathroom, Dean’s standing next to the bed, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes flick up to yours. “So…” he gestures in a “what are we going to do now” motion at Sam on the other bed, his long frame stretched diagonally. There’s definitely no room for Dean there.

“We’re grown ups, Dean. I think we can handle sharing a bed for one night.”

He smirks, “I wasn’t worried about me.”

You snort, “Oh, no? You’re so worried that I might jump you in the middle of the night?”

“I’ve been told I’m irresistible.” He says, serious, and you roll your eyes.

“I am too tired for this.”

He smiles, more gentle, the joke gone. “Come on then. Just don’t hog the blankets.”

.

.

.

You’re the first one to wake up.

As you struggle to keep your eyes open, you’re aware that you’re laying on your injured side, and you take a deep breath as you try to gently turn to your back, trying not to jostle Dean, who is still next to you, eyelashes fluttering a bit as he dreams.

You hiss through your teeth as your stitches pull, the feeling one you’ll never, ever get used to no matter how long you hunt.

Dean wakes up. He looks over at you with bleary eyes, and seems to jolt into awareness when he registers that you’re hurting.

He says your name quiet but stern, and you wave him off as you settle on your back.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little breathless.

“You’re not fine. Were you sleeping on that side this entire time?”

“I don’t know, I was asleep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Come on, let me look at that in the bathroom. Light’s better.”

His tone doesn’t leave you with a choice, so you take his offered hand when he makes his way around the bed to your side to help you up -- slowly -- and go with him into the brightly lit bathroom, shutting the door so you don’t wake up Sam.

Standing, the pain is worse. You lift your shirt and don’t need a medical degree to know the reddish tint to your stitches is not a great sign.

Dean’s eyes are fixed on the spot, but to his credit, he doesn’t get annoyed with you or freak out, he just shrugs.

“It could be worse?”

“Dean.”

He chuckles. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, it needs to be cleaned better, and honestly, Sam should re-do those stitches. You pulled a few, but they were probably too loose to begin with.”

“How did I sleep like that for that long?” You wonder aloud.

“Had to be facing me, sweetheart. Probably couldn’t help yourself.”

You glare at him, but can’t help but laugh. “I hate you so much.”

He grins. “I’m going to wake up Sam. He can assess the situation here better than me. We should get going, anyway.”

When Sam finally joins you in the small bathroom, Dean crowding in, he mother hens over you for a while until you stop complaining and just let him work. He mutters under his breath about sloppy stitches as Dean rolls his eyes, and you let this semi-domestic moment wash over you.

Sam reaches a particularly sensitive spot, and you can’t help the way you flinch away from him, your hip knocking into Dean’s as he stands next to you.

“Shit,” you say before regaining your composure.

“I’m sorry--” Sam says, eyes still focused on the stitches.

“It’s okay,” you pant, “Not your fault.”

“Deep breath,” Dean murmurs from behind you, hand on the small of your back rubbing in small circles as Sam continues his work.

You bite your lip and try to focus on anything besides the pain in your side as Sam finishes up, and finally he’s straightening, pulling you into a half hug against your good side.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “but that should do it. Try to get a nap on the way back home.” He smiles at you before going back out into the main room to get dressed.

Dean lingers. “You gonna be alright?” He asks, voice a little gruff, eyes fixed on your side as you pull your shirt back on.

“I think I’ll live.” You wink at him. “Thanks, Dean. For taking care of me.”

You watch in mild fascination as it seems like he’s actually turning a little pink, before mumbling something about getting packed and makes himself scarce. You laugh to yourself and head out to do the same thing, following the brothers out to the Impala a half hour later, sliding across the backseat carefully as Sam helps you in.

“Comfy?” He asks, and you grin.

“In this car? Always.”

.

.

.

A few hours later you’re woken up by the feeling of being jostled, before you’re steady again, the quiet voices of Sam and Dean pulling you out of your sleepy state.

“You got her?”

“If you get her bag, I’ll get her to bed.”

You dimly register that Dean’s carrying you, and can’t help but make yourself more comfortable in his arms, face pressed against his neck as you search for some warmth.

He makes a noise under his breath, and your smile grows against your will.

“I know you’re awake,” he murmurs.

“No ‘m not.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The walk feels long, but it’s only a few minutes later that he’s putting you down gently, trying to avoid you pulling your stitches again as he pulls back your covers.

“Get some sleep,” he whispers, and you find yourself reaching for his hand before you’re aware of what you’re doing. “You okay?”

“Just--” You don’t let yourself be embarrassed. “Can you stay for a little bit?”

He’s quiet, but you feel relief when he lowers himself to the edge of the bed, unlacing and pulling off his boots.

Neither of you say anything else as he pulls the covers tight over you, leaving himself outside, but drapes an arm over your shoulders to pull you against his side. You sigh at the comfort that radiates from him, and smile against his shoulder when he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

He says something, but you’re too close to falling asleep to hear him. You snuggle in a little closer, gratified when he hugs you tighter, still being careful of your injury.

“Thank you, Dean,” you mumble sleepily.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He whispers back.

[hunflowers]

MYTHOLOGY (I)

Word Count: 6.4k

Requested? Not exactly, but you always can here :)

A/N; OMGGG it’s finally here. I’m sorry for the long wait but I really hope you all enjoy the first part of demigod!Harry. And listen, I’m gonna be honest, this part is probably a little boring bc this is all about background/the past leading to the present, so pls bear with me because i promise it’ll be good! Anywho onwards to the story, have fun! *nose boops* 

tag list: @thicksniall @meetmeinfleetwood @afire-hes @pradaxstyles @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @gotmyhandonmyheart @burberryharold @harrymoncheri

Life is a funny thing.

Everyone thinks they know who they are and how their life is going to pan out. There’s a meticulous planning to life that people try to control; a plan that decides where they end up, who they end up with, and how happy they end up. But it’s so far out of everyone’s control, and not a single person could claim they were successful.

Calista thought for once she was in control, that maybe if she took matters into her own hands, everything was going to go the way she wanted.

And everything was starting to look up.

From birth to present, her life has always been one filled with uncertainty. Uncertain about where she was going to live, if she was going to eat, if she’d ever find a family that would love her. All her life she wished for something to go her way, for something to go right instead of left.

When she hit the turning age of eighteen, things did start to look up for her. All her life she’s been on the lower level standards of society, grazing by, by the skin of her teeth. She figured her life was doomed from the start considering she never really had a true family, or a true support system.

As a baby she was left on the doorstep of some random woman’s house, and then that woman handed her over to the nearest orphanage, which then turned her over to the foster care system. From the moment she was born she hadn’t been wanted by anyone, not even her own parents, and all her childhood was between homes and ignorant foster parents who hardly ever cared for her existence, but rather the check she brought in for them.

A person’s childhood is meant to represent the happiest portion of their life. Being able to look back on memories that last forever, memories that weld nostalgia, and memories that you’ll forever hold close to your heart. 

This wasn’t Calista’s case. 

For Cal, all she can remember is the constant bullying from foster siblings because of her innate ability to be a good student; The constant slaps and kicks and punches thrown her way because she was too slow to stop them; The never ending verbal abuse of being alone with no friends.

Every day she went to school and wished she could never leave, because at school people at least left her alone. No one cared to talk to her so that meant she didn’t have to deal with anyone, and she liked that more than anything. It was going home that was the problem. There were plenty of times she contemplated running away, finding a home that would accept her, but she always talked herself down, saying one day these people will be nice to her. She had high hopes and tried to see the best of every situation, but time after time she was let down when she was pushed into a wall or tripped on the sidewalk.

The last home she was in before she turned eighteen had been the worst of them all. Every night she cried herself to sleep, and prayed to whoever would listen that she needed to be saved, that she shouldn’t have to live her life like this and that hopefully one day, things will start to look up. Then they did, and it was incredibly shocking. Cal was awarded a full ride scholarship to the University of Cambridge, a goal she’d never think she would achieve. The moment she got the news she made sure to put in extra hours at work and even get a second job so the moment she graduated high school she could leave, and head straight for England.

She had been tempted to tell her foster parents, to see if maybe they would be happy for her, but every time she tried, they shot her down and forced her to do work around the house or banished her to her room for the night and left her starving. No words could ever properly convey how excited she was to put this part of her life behind her, to start somewhere new, and to hopefully make better memories along the way.

So, her eighteenth birthday passed and high school graduation flew by, and before she knew it, she was packing up without a word to anyone, and moved away. She didn’t really have a plan as to what she would do once she got there, but anything was going to be better than her old life.

Calista had bounced around a few motel rooms over the course of a couple months before she moved into her dorm room, keeping herself busy with a few different jobs to try and save up a bit of money. Even here it was difficult trying to stand on solid ground, and she can’t say she expected much else with the cards she’s been dealt in life, but with this new start she figured it would be at least a little better than life back over the ocean.

Then the unexpected happened.

She made a friend at the restaurant she had been working at.

Trinity Kim, the bestest friend Calista could ever ask for. Usually, when people talk of soulmates, they talk of significant others. If anyone were to ask Cal who her soulmate was, she’d say Trinity, Trin for short. 

It’s almost as if they were destined to be friends. They were alike in every way possible, but they were also so different which kept things interesting. For example, they both had lived pretty tough lives before meeting one another. Though Trin wasn’t in foster care her whole life, her father and step-mom had been involved in her life so little that she nearly forgot they ever existed. Their biggest connection had been that they never had met their birth mothers, which at first was oddly coincidental, but now, a few years later, it was strangely comforting for them to have something so deep in common. It’s hard to relate to people who have stable homes, because for Calista, well, she doesn’t; And not that she wants people to feel the way she does, but for some reason, when she found out Trin had a bit of a messed up life too, it helped her feel not so alone in this scary reality.

Then they found out they’re actually going to the same University, and that’s when they knew they’d be inseparable. Because what’re the odds of that? 

Adapting to this new lifestyle was a rollercoaster for Calista, not that she expected any different, but three years later, she still found life a little overwhelming from time to time. Though this life was infinitely better than her one back in the states, it didn’t stop her underlying insecurities of not fitting in anywhere. She has Trin, and the few other friends she’s made over the years, but no matter where she was she never felt this sense of… belonging.

A lot of people she knew at school were business majors, looking to go into finance and everything else associated with the program, because they were trying to build stable careers. Calista on the other hand invested her life into the classical studies program, because for some reason she had this weird fascination with ancient life ever since she was a little girl, finding Greek and Roman life to be so interesting. It wasn’t a popular major, and people she told always tried to bring her down because of it, claiming she’d never get anywhere in life knowing stuff about mythological gods that never existed.

She’s learned to grow a tough exterior, not letting people and their dumb criticisms get in her way anymore. She’s a blooming adult, and she’s learned the hard way that sometimes people are just mean for the sake of being mean, so she’s put on her big girl pants and sticks up for herself now, never giving anyone the chance to walk all over her anymore.

Trinity has also helped Calista in boosting her self-confidence, giving her that little push to bite back at people that bark. There was one time they were at a party, and a girl came up to Calista, claiming she had been flirting with her boyfriend - and truth is, she had been, but she wouldn’t have if she knew he had a girlfriend - and when she starting calling her names, Calista spat right back at her, telling her to get a better boyfriend if this one was flirting with other women, and that maybe she should get a better taste in men.

Normally, Cal would’ve just apologized and moved on, but she’s so sick of people thinking they could just say or do whatever they want to her.

That’s why on one special night, Calista’s life changed forever.

She had been coming home from work with Trin, their job only a few streets away from their shared apartment, so they walked. It had been a nice night out, the moon in its crescent phase, glistening in the indigo sky, accompanied by a few scattered stars. It was a night just like every other one, until it wasn’t.

“Trin, I’m telling you, Niall likes you.”

“Please! He likes you, I know he does.”

“How could he like me, if he’s told me himself that he likes you?” 

Trinity paused in her steps, halting Calista a few steps ahead of her, looking over her shoulder with a confused look. Trinity was looking around, as if she saw something Calista didn’t, a worrisome face etched into her features. “Trin?”

The situation wasn’t helped by the fact they were in a more remote part of the city, no cars or people around at this time of night. They were both too poor to afford a car, hardly getting by with their rent money, and this is when that lack of money would bite them in the ass. The weird part was, Trin didn’t really seem unnerved about her surroundings or anything, she just looked confused. That’s when Calista saw something move in the corner of her eye, or someone actually. They appeared from the alley a few feet away, as if that wasn’t creepy at all, and stood beneath the streetlamp that hovered above them, illuminating a dull golden glow around them. 

There were two people, a boy and a girl watching the two friends, hands at their sides, holding some sort of… weaponry. It was hard to tell, but from a distance it almost looked like they were holding swords. All Calista could think about, rather than her fear of being killed, is who uses a sword anymore?

Their faces seemed oddly recognizable even though she’s pretty sure she’s never seen them before. Yet, she felt like she knew them. Though, it seems Trin does when she speaks nonchalantly to them, shoulders relaxed in relief of it not being some crazed serial killer. “What the fuck do you guys want?”

The girl ignored her, keeping her dark eyes fixated on Calista, skimming the length of her body in disgust, a grimace resting on her features as she rolls her eyes at Calista just simply standing there. “We were told to relay a message to you.”

“And this had to be done at ten at night, next to an alley?” Trin deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest. Cal stood off to the side, lost out of her mind as the three bickered back and forth for some odd seconds, wondering what in the hell was going on. She still couldn’t even pinpoint where she knew these people from.

Not to mention, she was still beyond confused about why they had fucking swords.

The boy caught her eyeing the metal, pushing the material of his jacket back a little bit so the silver shined under the streetlamp, either showing it off or trying to taunt her. Yet, her only response to that was an eye roll and a tap of her foot as she continued to ache from her six hour shift. It was weird how she didn’t feel at all threatened in this situation, but something in the back of her mind told her that if it were to go south, she’d be okay. Maybe not, she’s hardly ever been violent in her life, usually taking pain but never giving it.

“Tell her yet?” The girl jutted her head in Calista’s direction, again eyes raking her body with a look of disgust written on her lips.

“No, they said not to,” Trin replied, side glancing to Cal quickly, praying in her mind the curly haired girl didn’t ask questions when they left. 

The thing about Trinity is that although to Calista, her appearance in her life seemed completely natural and as if they bonded purely on their backgrounds, that wasn’t completely true. For three years Trinity has been keeping the biggest secret of her best friend’s life and it’s been eating her alive ever since the small age of thirteen. When she was younger, she was told about how her future was meant to unfold with the mystery girl from across the atlantic, and how she was sworn to secrecy because it could end both of their lives if any wrong person found out the truth.

It was a lot for a thirteen year old to take in, but Trin knew she had to be strong.

But, when word got around that Calista was making her way over, that’s when Trinity was told to ease the girl as slowly and painlessly as possible into her righteous lifestyle. Trinity though, couldn’t grow the balls to ever do that, always fearing that she’d cause pain to her newfound friend and that -- from personal experience -- finding out the truth can be very, very difficult. So she hasn’t told her about her true history, and she’s felt awful about it.

Though, due to Cal’s impeccable speed, she beat her friend to the answer of that question,  “Tell me what?”

The short blonde girl looked to her opposer, a smirk sliding across her lips before she glanced up to the guy, nudging his arm with her elbow. “This is gonna be good.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on right now, or?” Calista pressed, looking at all three of them, no one jumping to give her the answer she had been looking for, for the past five minutes.

Trinity looked nervous, gnawing at her bottom lip as she seemed to be in pain with whatever was going around inside her mind. Her lack of talking spoke volumes louder, though; Because her silence meant she was keeping a secret. It was hard to gauge whether or not the impact this secret would have, but a secret was a secret, and Calista hates secrets.

Her whole life had been nothing but a secret considering she had no idea who even birthed her, or if she had any family that was maybe looking for her, or what day she was even born on. Her declared date of birth was the day the woman found her on her porch. She had secrets up the wazoo, and anymore was just bound to break her.

Again, Trinity wasn’t the one to speak up, as now the guy decided to open his mouth, “What do you know about Greek mythology?”

Calista was taken aback by the question, stumbling around in her mind how that was at all relevant. It was also oddly concerning a question so random held so much relevance in her life considering her studies focused around this area of history. “Uh… why?”

“Don’t listen to them, Lis,” Trin interjected, taking a small step forward between her friend at the two a few paces away.

“Well, if you’re not going to, we will,” the girl retorted, now taking her own step forward. From the looks of it from Calista’s point of view, any more hostility verbally, those weird fucking swords of theirs were going to come in handy. And even though she had the slight fear of being impaled to death, something inside of her sparked some sense of nobility, going to stand next to a frustrated Trinity.

“I think someone should tell me something soon before I lose my mind.”

“Well, c’mon then Trinity, tell her. Mr. Cirillo said you have twelve hours, or we’re coming back and doing it ourselves; That’s why we’re here,” the girl shrugged, picking at the chipped black nail polish on her thumb.

Trinity scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Why wouldn’t he just tell me himself?”

“Because he’s tired of telling you and you not listening,” she spat back. “Look, I’d rather her not know either, because I don’t need any more competition for my title, but there’s apparently been a threat, and we need all the hands we can get in case a war breaks out. Plus, it’s unfair for her to keep living a lie. Twelve hours.” And then they walked back into the alley, and disappeared as if they hadn’t been there in the first place.

Calista’s mind was swirling down a very long drain to say the least. A war?Living a lie? Competition for a title? None of it made sense and she wasn’t sure if it ever would. Silence fell upon them the moment they started their journey back home again, not that she knew what to say. She had so many questions buzzing around her brain that she didn’t even know where to begin. Who even were those two? 

And what the fuck was Trinity keeping from her?

The second they stepped through the door of their apartment, Calista flopped herself down on the couch, clutching her head as a migraine began to seep its way into her problems for the night. She didn’t want to be the one the break the thin ice they’d been itching their way across for the past fifteen minutes, but as Trinity paced around, biting at the tip of her thumb, clearly lost in her own thoughts, Cal figured she’d better be the first to speak before she bursts at the seams from anticipation. “Trin, help a girl out, what the hell is going on?”

She stopped her walking, head snapping to the side as her eyes frantically observed the sitting girl that was pushing her sweaty hair back from off her forehead. Whenever everything was dealt with, they seriously had to talk to their landlord about the excessive heating in their flat. It was as if they still had the heat on even when it was blazing outside. 

Trinity took a breath, closing her eyes shut for a brief moment before collecting herself and sitting down on the available leather cushion. “I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.”

“For wha--”

“Please… just let me finish.”

Calista nodded her head, silently agreeing to let her continue, slowly bracing herself for whatever was bound to be revealed. This deep pit nestled in her stomach, gravity weighing her down as anxiety built up inside pouring out of her as she continuously carded her fingers through the ends of her knotty hair.

“I’m so fucking sorry for lying t’you, and for keeping shit a secret -- even though I was told to -- and I need you to know that it has been my fault for you not knowing any sooner than tonight.“

“You’re really sca--”

Trin gave her a pointed look, causing her to shut her mouth nearly immediately. “Do you… remember when Damien, uh, the guy from before, asked you about Greek mythology?” Calista nodded her head in remembrance, choosing to keep her mouth shut in fear of being told to shut up again.

“The reason he asked you is because, well, it’s not exactly a myth. It’s quite real and well, you’re a part of it. And by that I mean uh… you’re the daughter of the goddess Athena.”

❊ ❊

Calista couldn’t fall asleep that night. 

She laid in bed, covers pulled up to her chest as she stared up at the ceiling, hands resting on her chest as the last of her tears dried on her skin. Her mind hasn’t given her a moment to calm down, thought after thought popping up as question after question runs around, giving her feeling after feeling of all different types of emotions.

She wasn’t happy, that much was for certain given the circumstances. I don’t think anyone can have their life flipped upside down so drastically and be happy about it. But, she wasn’t exactly sad about it either. It’s not everyday someone finds out they’re a literal demigod. Truth is, she doesn’t really know how to feel, because how does one feel when they find out why her life turned out the way it had?

When she came to college, this wasn’t the Greek life she imagined herself joining.

Her mother, Athena, goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicraft met her father twenty-one years ago. Her father wanted nothing to do with her and well, Athena couldn’t exactly be a proper mother with her god duties and such, so Calista was left alone. It’s said that her mother watches over her everyday, but if that were true why would she allow her daughter to lead such an awful life?

When Calista was thirteen, supposedly people had come to her house to take her to her awaited lifestyle, something she never knew happened. But, her foster mother at the time told them she didn’t want to go with them and that she was happy where she was -- which was a complete lie, because that woman most likely slapped her five minutes prior. Conveniently, not even two weeks later Calista was transferred to a different home because the woman couldn’t take care of her anymore. 

This explains her interest in classical studies, considering she’s technically part of those studies, but her choice to Cambridge was a complete chance, in Trin’s words. But, when news spread that she was coming over seas, that’s when these people felt it was finally time to reel her in. Calista isn’t exactly sure who these people are, because Trinity was pretty vague in her explanations, but from what she can gather, they’re other demigods and mythological creatures and whatever else that are part of this life.

Aside from this whole new truth being exposed to her, the thing battling with her most is what she’s gonna do about Trinity. She’s her best friend, she loves her more than she loves herself, but she can’t put aside the fact that she literally kept the biggest secret of her life from her, because she wasn’t ready to tell her. Trinity was being selfish, and Calista doesn’t know what to do.

All her life she’s dealt with people being the worst to her, and for once she thought someone was different. Turns out, everyone is a liar and chooses to be the worst possible person in front of her. It’s this constant tug of war going on in her brain, that she’ll never be good enough for anything or anyone, and the moment she accepted that, she got Trin. But of course, that was ripped right from her, just like everything else.

Fuck, she’s not even good enough to be a demigod.

The following few days they had hardly spoken to one another. Calista because she was still holding this frustrated anger within her that she’s not exactly certain how to express without blowing her top; And Trin, afraid to get her head chewed off with a promising breakdown following on her part. They were walking on eggshells around one another, to the point they sort of avoided each other to the best of their abilities in their small apartment.

The first time they genuinely spoke was when Trinity said she had to bring Cal to a discreet location where she’ll get more answers from people that know just a little bit more. It was explained though that this is where Trinity ventured off to in the summertime when she went away on “vacation.” Vacation just simply meaning travelling to this camp/school site where she trains and learns more about her true heritage.

It’s hard for Calista to understand what exactly she’s training for, but she guesses that’s why this little trip to this place is necessary.

When they arrived, she was in pure awe at the inspiration of old Greek architecture, noticing the ionic columns lining the front of the big building. Μυθολογία was nestled into the marble, the translation from Greek meaning Mythology, which Trin had mentioned at some point that the name of this place was simply named Mythology because that’s what all of this is supposed to be.

A myth.

“This is where everyone basically sleeps and where we train if it’s raining. There are also a few offices for like, the ancients, so,” Trinity explained, walking them up the set of steps that led them to the main door.

Calista could hardly pay attention to what her friend was saying as she gawked at the intricate and beautiful layout of the foyer in front of her, admiring the various statues and paintings that contained her… mother. “She’s a beautiful woman, isn’t she?” A voice spoke behind her, causing her to whip her head around, coming face to face with an older man that had greying hair and a few wrinkles lining his face.

Oh, and one eye.

“Stunning,” she replied, taking one more look at the goddess before giving her full attention to the man.

“I’m Mr. Cirillo. It’s an honor to meet you, Calista,” he stuck his hand out, which she grasped in her own, shaking it firmly, trying not to stare too hard at the fact that he has one eye but she also doesn’t want to be rude and not give eye contact.

She gulped, taking a look at Trin who was busy on her phone, before smiling softly back up at the tall man. “I’m sorry… I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this,” she apologized, taking in a deep breath and looking at the few people that walked by them in the foyer, making an awkward eye contact as they started whispering to themselves about her.

Great, even when she’s meant to fit in, she still can’t.

“Believe me, it would be more concerning if it wasn’t a lot to take in. I’m not going to overload you just yet, Trinity will be showing you where you’ll be staying and then head to the cafeteria, you must be hungry from the ride here,” he suggested, placing his hand on hers and Trin’s shoulders, guiding them in the direction they were meant to be.

Then, Trinity was taking her hand, leading her up the grand staircase in front of them, leading them down endless hallways to finally get to their shared room. It was a decently sized room, half of it clearly inhabited by Trin as it was messy and had a few of her signature posters lining the wall. The other half however was very empty, only adorned by the full size bed and wardrobe and small nightstand table. “You’ve been set as my roommate since I first moved in,” Trinity spoke quietly, picking at her fingernails as she sat on the edge of her own bed.

Calista nodded her head, setting her suitcase down next to her bed. Walking over to the window seat, sitting herself down on the soft blue cushion, overlooking what must be a courtyard as across from her just seemed to be more rooms that were down a different hallway. They both sat in silence for some odd minutes before Calista took the plunge and said, “I just wish you told me.”

Nearly immediately Trinity responded, jumping up from her seat and padding over to her friend, standing a couple feet away. “I’m so sorry, Lis. I have no good reason to explain why I didn’t, but I regret it so fucking much. I shouldn’t have been selfish and I need you to know I’m just so, so sorry. I probably screwed up your trust in me, but I’m going to do whatever I can to fix this.”

Both of their eyes watered, emotions flooding through both of them as they wind up in a few more moments of silence. They’ve never not talked or hardly ever got in fights, and by this point, they were both just sick of the never ending silence and wished everything could just go back to the way it was. But, it can’t, though they’ll both do everything they can to resume some sort of normalcy and hopefully repair this strained relationship.

Calista looked to her friend, nodding her head in a silent acknowledgement that she knows she’s going to try hard, and stands up to bring her in for a hug. It was the most awkward hug of their life, but it definitely was a start. They both cried a bit, but when they separated they raised their hands and wiped away each other’s tears, laughing a bit to themselves.

Sniffling, Trin stood straighter, gesturing around the room, “Alright, well this is our lovely humble abode. You can do whatever you want to your side and uh… Oh! These small little statues,” she pointed to the small sculptures that were in little cubbies by the window, “are our mothers. So, y’know, Athena is on your side and Artemis is on mine. As if we don’t see their faces around here enough, but honestly I think it’s so no funny business can go down in our rooms because, well, our parents are watching which is weird.”

“Trinity Kim, has any funny business gone down in this room?” Calista questions, raising her eyebrow at her friend. She immediately turned red at the inquiry, turning hot on her heel and over to the door. “C’mon, let’s get some food before it’s all eaten.”

Calista gasped at her blatant avoidal of the question, “Trin!”

❊ ❊

There were a lot of people around. A lot more than Calista could expect.

And surprisingly, aside from when she first entered and people were whispering about her, a lot of people were completely welcoming. She was the talk of the town apparently, everyone knowing who she was and crowding around her to introduce themselves. She felt bad since she had not a clue who any of them were but it seems none of them cared.

The thing that surprised her most was to see Niall, another friend of hers and Trin’s that went to school with them, here. It makes her wonder who else she knows from school that’s here.

And apparently Niall is the son of Poseidon? Which is pretty fucking cool, and explains a lot about him, like his obsession with pool sports. Or, just water in general. 

But, now that she knows Niall’s here, she wonders if he’s who’s been in her room with Trin. She tried to pry it out of her friend before, and she was so close to getting an answer, but then Niall came over to them and she immediately shut up. 

She also saw those two people from the other night, Damien and Wren, that sat by themselves in the corner of the grand room, seeming completely uninterested in anything that involved everyone else. Trinity had explained that they think they’re better than everyone else here so they hardly take time out of their day to engage with others. 

Damien’s Zeus’ son, so because his father is Mr. Almighty, he basically thinks he holds that same title, when in reality he’s just a dickhead. He’s mediocre at best at combat, with or without weapons, and is just plain rude and egotistical. Wren is the daughter of Ares, so she thinks she’s something special because she’s the best female fighter this place has ever seen. Which, it’s pretty cool to be the best, but that doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch about it.

Their whole dinner, Trin and Niall tried giving her the scoop of everyone deemed necessary -- their words -- but one person in particular stood out to her. He was on the opposite side of the room, and even though he’s sitting at a table, it looks like everyone sitting with him, is there just because he is. Calista could admit it is difficult to not pay attention to him, his vibrant smile and glowing aura drawing anyone to him.

His name’s Harry, and according to Niall, he’s the best male soldier this place has ever seen. It was hard for Niall to admit it, but he can’t avoid the truth. Unlike Damien who despised Harry for it, them two supposedly always going head to head about who was better. “Damien can never get the hint that he, well, sucks ass,” Niall digressed, sipping on his drink, raising his eyebrows in an ‘I’m not wrong’ manner.

It also doesn’t help Damien’s case that Harry is a genuinely nice guy. Aside from the battle field, Harry will go out of his way to help anyone, bringing joy and happiness to everyone around him. He’s the son of Apollo, god of the sun which makes sense since this guy basically radiates energy like he himself is the sun.

He was definitely someone she wanted to befriend, and she’s a little saddened he was part of the masses that had introduced themselves to her earlier.

“He’s right. A lot of people wish they were as good as Harry, but it sort of just comes, uh, natural to him,” Trin shrugs in agreement. Calista looks past her friends to take a look at him one more time, noticing he’s no longer sat at his table anymore.

But, then a voice speaks from right next to her, startling her and causing her to jump in her seat as she notices the guy suddenly sitting next to her. “You always know how to warm my heart Trin,” he smiles, placing his hand on his chest over where his beating muscle lies, before extending it out to the new girl.

“Hi, I’m Harry.”

Never mind, she’s happy again.

Calista takes his hand now, shaking it with a response of her name, all but falling in love with him immediately on the spot. How is someone allowed to be this good looking? It surely must be a crime.

“How’re you liking things so far?” He asked, keeping his eyes locked on hers and a small smile on his face, as if he was always such a happy person.

Calista swallowed, “I’m adjusting.”

“Understandable. It’s easy getting used to though, especially since you already have some friends here,” he smiled kindly, bringing his hand up to brush through the few fallen strands of hair that adorned his forehead.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” another person spoke from behind her, everyone’s eyes snapping towards the direction it came from. Wren stood at the end of their table, a cynical smirk plastered on her face as a bored looking Damien stood behind her. “Nice to see you again, Newbie.”

Though the tone in her voice suggested otherwise. So, Calista called her out on it, “Is it?”

Wren scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically as a drawn out groan escaped her mouth. “Let me guess, they told you how I’m the biggest bitch around and that all I care about is staying at the top.”

Calista looked around at her silent friends, nodding her head in agreement, “Mm, yup.”

“Good, then we have an understanding. Don’t get in my way, and I won’t get in yours,” she grinned, placing the palms of her hands flat on the table as she leaned forward, her face about a foot away from Calista’s.

It was clear she was trying to be intimidating, her stern face probably scaring away anyone she laid her eyes on. Though, just like a few nights ago, Cal was far from scared. Something about this girl was far from threatening, so without a second thought, Calista leaned her face a bit closer, a small smirk of her own forming on her mouth. 

She didn’t like bullies, and she was tired of running away from them.

“And if I do?”

Wren’s eyes lowered into slits, her smirk dropping as her upper lip nearly raised into a snarl, clearly not enjoying the fact that someone wasn’t intimidated by her. 

“You’ll wish you didn’t.” And with that, she stood back up, skimming her eyes over Calista again before walking away, grabbing Damien by the wrist dragging him away from his little glare-off with Harry.

“Wow…” Niall, spoke up, looking around to his friends, “I hate them.”

“Oh my gods!” Trin gasped, pulling on her friend’s hands, tugging her nearly halfway across the table. “Lis, we’ve got Leaderships in a few weeks, you’re gonna beat her.”

Calista looked to her Trinity in confusion, scrunching her eyebrows together as to what the fuck she was talking about. “Um, what’s Leaderships?”

“It’s basically just ranking everybody in order of first line of defense to last,” Niall explained. 

“So, Harry here is the best male, and Wren takes pride in being the best female, but, I think with a couple weeks of good training, you can knock her right off that fucking pedestal of hers,” Trin continued, smiling with excitement and shaking Calista’s hands vigorously. 

It was a tempting offer. Being new and being the best sure had its perks. But, even though she can’t stand the girl, Calista can’t see herself surpassing Wren. That girl has probably trained her whole life to be where she is, there’s no way a new girl, who didn’t even know this place existed a couple days ago, can sweep in after a few weeks and take that position.

It was tempting, but it was near impossible.

“Trin, I don’t think that’s gonna be possib--”

“A few days ago you didn’t even think this was possible, yet here we are. Anything is possible, plus with help from us, and the fact you’re mother is the goddess of battle strategy, you’re destined to be the best. Right guys?” she turned to the two guys who were caught up in their own conversation, not paying attention to a thing she said.

Niall yelped in pain, his shin burning from the ferocious kick Trin delivered to him. “Wha’ was that for?!”

“Trin, why don’t you just beat her?”

She scoffed at the question in return, “I’ve tried. The bitch is a fucking cheater though, nearly sliced my achilles tendon in two.”

“So--”

“But, it’s time someone else takes a hold of that precious title of hers,” Trin finished, letting go of her friend’s hands now. 

“She’s right,” Harry spoke from beside them, looking away from them and to the corner the couple had resided back into. “Both of them think they run the fucking world, and it’s getting t’be a bit sickening.”

Looking back at the curly haired girl, he smirked, sitting up just a bit straighter, “Whaddya say, love, wanna be the best?”

The first thought that popped into Calista’s mind though, was how the fuck did her life change so much?

[snowflake-of-destruction]

let's hear about FFVIII seifer, if you're still doing this XD

Why I like them: You know my tastes. A green-eyed man is introduced throwing fireballs around, is kind of a condescending jerk but in a fun way, instigates deep conversations on high ground while staring at the sunset...Well, before we even get to villainy, immolation, and redemption arc, I start going “Is this a favorite character?”  I’m joking...kind of. Some of that does factor in, even the fire. 

Okay, so my favorite thing about Seifer’s arc is that, in the limited focus he’s given, he’s complex and layered from the beginning, and his villain arc is a clear and fascinating illustration of “No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks” ….with a side of brainwashing.

Let’s break this down:

What are some of the words used to describe him by those that know him (by himself, by Squall, by Fuu and Rai)? Romantic. Idealistic. Sensitive. He is the one who believes in making a difference in the world--not just as a wish or goal, but as an imperative to do what your heart says is right even if it’s going to cost you--where Squall is just follow-the-orders-and-do-the-job. If you’re already reading this and objecting, I’m not saying Squall doesn’t care...obviously he does, defrosting Mr. Go Talk to a Wall and getting him to a place where he admits how many layers of mask he wears is his character development...but Seifer isn’t just a hothead. He wears his heart on his sleeve. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am not trying to deny that Seifer can be an abrasive, self-serving, hypocritical jackass sometimes,  who can fight dirty, wants to “wreak some havoc,” and has a history as a bully--though, gentlefolk of the jury, I submit to the courts that he puts on a tough act like Squall does and they are both different flavors of trying to mimic toxic alpha male--but let’s not forget that some of his establishing character moments are throwing out his future to disobey orders because he sees that the higher-ups have possibly misjudged the situation and civilians could be in danger, and, again, going AWOL because he thinks Squall and Rinoa could be killed. And he calls himself the white knight and holds up a code of honor until the end, even though it gets twisted. He is about duty and honor, with honor even over duty.

Oh, this was only going to be the beginning. I haven’t even begun to touch on what I would want to touch on--this is just surface personality and the beginning of the game before we even get to joining Sorceress Edea, and even then not all I would say-- but this post isn’t actually supposed to be my Ted talk on what you missed if you just think of Seifer as a recurring boss fight. Let’s move on.

ONE MORE THING ACTUALLY. Even though we see a lot of Seifer at his worst, you can use Fujin and Raijin as a mirror. What do they say near the end of the game if we paraphrase/summarize? They knew pretty early on, before even the senseless slaughter and torture era that Seifer was going down a dark path with the sorceress, but they knew it wasn’t him and stayed with him, not because they agreed with his actions, wanted power, or out of fear, but to take care of him and try to break through to him--and not because they are saints, but because he, despite what had happened in the past year, is the type of person who deserves and inspires that kind of loyalty. Let’s think on that.

Now the rest goes under a read more, because I am going to keep rambling and be wordy

Why I don’t: He can be an asshole, and he’s an asshole in an embarrassing way. As in, if one is trying to say he’s not the little punk his KH counterpart is, you remember he still uses the insult chickenwuss (though that is a legacy insult/nickname since he’s known Zell since childhood--and, fyi, Squall uses it too) and he had a little gang in school. Even once he’s a military commander of an evil army set on world domination, he has some moments where his level of petty undermines him.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): The Dollet mission

Favorite line: Sorry, not sorry that the following is my favorite exchange of lines and that the prison torture scene is another of my favorite scenes. For context, Seifer has captured Squall, has him hanging up on the wall in crucified hero imagery, implied to be shirtless even though his character model isn’t because they talk about scar tissue or lack thereof from a recent shoulder injury/Squall being stabbed in the chest/shoulder area. Seifer has been electrocuting Squall for information. By this point, I might as well have put the whole scene here. Also, I am now going to blame Squall and Seifer text boxes in FFVIII for my own abuses of ellipses...

Seifer: " I was hoping you'd be there, Squall. So... how'd I look in my moment of triumph? My childhood dream, fulfilled. I've become the sorceress' knight."

Squall: [internal monologue] ...Sorceress' knight... ...His...romantic dream...? But... Seifer... Now, you're just a…[Out loud] "... torturer."

[Squall passes out.]

Seifer: "What did you say? [Steps closer] Passed out cold, eh? This is the scene where you swear your undying hatred for me! The tale of the evil mercenary versus the sorceress' knight!”

This isn’t just me all “mmm, tension.” Seifer has passed the moral event horizon, and it’s not just faceless NPCs that are collateral damage anymore. We’ve seen him on screen torture the protagonist, who is also one of the only people who he’s shown to have a real bond with that goes beyond superficial. Then we get this and see Seifer thinks he’s the good guy still, on a noble mission where he’s had to make painful sacrifices, and Squall is a representative of the power-hungry evil. Seifer’s been playing a different game, and had his will twisted via magic.

Favorite outfit: The Amano art where the white coat is cast off and he’s wearing the simple black shirt and black jeans under it. Symbolic? Maybe. I wouldn’t give up the coat though. I love the long white/gray coat, the outer embodiment of wanting to wear the white hat, but the desire easily getting tarnished, and the red cross that turns into a sword and becomes Seifer’s symbol and soon to appear other places, emblazoned nice and big on the sleeve. It’s the Cross of Saint James. TRADITIONALLY red represents the blood of Christ, the three lilies represent the honor of the apostle and reference Christ as lily of the valley, and the sword shape represents the torture that St.James suffered before his murder. HOWEVER, my opinion is that here it’s more vague/altered symbolism (For starters, there are other gods not the Christian God in this world) with a side of “looks cool.” We still have something that clearly calls to mind a mission from on high, innocence in the lilies, blood and blood cost, and then war/violence with the sword. And I love it. 

OTP: Seifer/Squall. I should not even start, but lest you think I am just in it for kinky torture scenes: We have these two who, in the beginning, are generally callous or mocking toward everyone, but make each other laugh/smile, see who each other are underneath and describe each other in “soft” terms even if they tease each other for it, repeatedly check in on each other to see if the other is okay, respect each other’s opinion and skills, and...you get the idea. In the words of Zell Dincht, I thought you two were rivals, but you’re all buddy-buddy. 

Pause for a second and let’s just say first impression. That opening fight where they scar each other’s faces? It takes place outside Balamb Garden and the area is shown so we see they are alone. Squall passes out. Squall wakes up in the infirmary within the Garden base. Squall has to explain what happened; people don’t already know. This kind of implies after Squall passed out, Seifer, bleeding from a head wound himself, picked Squall up and carried him home, allowing himself to collapse only when Squall was being safely tended to, because he’s that extra. This is his first (okay, second, after fireballs and face slashing) action in the game even though it’s offscreen. I mean, he could have also just called for help/ran for help, but that’s less fun.

 Seifer is so concerned with being a badass, but he’s admits to Squall all he’s ever wanted was to be the fairytale knight, not a mere soldier. Vulnerability and confession he wants romance....with the first time it’s brought up in game being while they are watching the sun set together, the traditional Square Red Sunset of Shipping. 

Seifer hesitates to defy orders, not for himself, but until he sees Squall is with him. Even though there were other “children of destiny” who all came from the same orphanage, Squall and Seifer were the ones who were never apart, never adopted until it was by a military/mercenary training program, and, even though it may speak more to brotherly than romantic from some angles, there’s a feeling of being the same, knowing each other down to the atoms, adopting an us against the world mindset that trumps trying to best each other when it comes down to it because they are the only constant. When Squall has his breakdown/ breakthrough of why he pushes people away/doesn’t let himself care/tries not to need anyone because people leave/are taken from him and he is scared he isn’t worthy of love and happiness until Rinoa challenges him, this may seem like a dismissal of Seifer, but you can also look at it from “I had no friends or family. I didn’t even have interest in speaking to anyone. I strived to be an unfeeling machine, because all emotion is pain...But also I couldn’t go 48 hours without seeing Seifer.”

Yeah, yeah, we know their main form of hanging out was beating the tar out of each other, but sometimes, especially in older media, this was its own brand of subtext. For more on how Seifer miiiight just view sparring let’s point out that “Isn’t this ROMANTIC?” and “Kneel” as a less easily interpreted as innuendo version of  “I want you on your knees” are battle quotes even in Kingdom Hearts sooo draw your own conclusion. 

We get a line where Squall makes it clear these were friendly matches looked at as pushing their limits beyond what they are allowed to in sanctioned spars, and he feels prepared to take on anything  now because of Seifer. Is it healthy communication  in real life? No! Is this real life? No! Plus, the facial scar was an accident, pretty clearly...on Seifer’s side...I could write another essay on how Seifer draws first blood, but it’s because on Squall’s failed block, AND THEN SQUALL GETS ANGRY AND RETALIATES WITH CLEAR PURPOSE AND MAKES THE OPENING SHOT INTO THE FIRST SIGN GOOD VERSUS BAD GUY ISN’T SO CLEAR CUT (even though they both shouldn’t have been going so hard in a friendly training match to begin with).

 Seifer’s later, repeated threats/expressed desire to give Squall additional scars once he goes evil? That is a different animal, and a horrible one, objectively. Not objectively? No comment. Okay, one comment. Mark you as mine. Two comments. He knows Squall’s lost some memories and he can’t stomach being the next thing forgotten so Squall needs physical reminders.

Hmmm, I was supposed to be talking about the ship, not just the sparring and scars. We can wrap it up with a Marge Simpson. “I just think they’re neat”

BUT ONE MORE THING

Squall’s jacket when he becomes Leon in Kingdom Hearts. His outfit is mostly the same, right? Except the back of the jacket now has a red patch of an emblem (of Rinoa’s angel wings, not Seifer’s cross...for the OT3 feel), and his fight with Sora he throws a fireball like Seifer’s signature. Just, you know, if you want bonus references/feeling.

Brotp: Fuu and Rai. They are willing to commit war crimes with this man, nurse him back from death’s door, and go into exile with him if he can’t return to a normal life even after a redemption arc. This section deserves to be long, but I am beginning to get talked out. Don’t take that as devaluing the friendship though. I’m glad he was allowed to keep his ride or dies in Kingdom Hearts. FRIENDSHIP! They love him, ya know?

Head Canon: What we see of him at the end of the game is a temporary situation and after he heals and refreshes for awhile he’d go back to Balamb and face consequences for his actions, and probably insist on consequences instead of leaning into “an evil sorceress bespelled me and slowly took my free will.” No hiding away in the wilderness. No crossing into and living his life in Esthar. No, “but in the end I broke free and would have been an active, onscreen part of saving the world if Square had let me join the party!” He would insist on being cast into a deep, dark cell. Squall uses pull to get him pardoned, but not before just, flat out, yelling at him for being a martyr.

Unpopular opinion: He did love Rinoa. It may have been a “shallow love,” but he wasn’t just dating her to pass time or because she played into his damsel who needs a hero mindset. There was emotion. He was prepared to die for her and Squall in Timber, and almost did--only being saved by Sorceress Edea...which wasn’t a kindness, but it all worked out in the end. Sure, he gets mind-controlled into using Rinoa as, basically, a human sacrifice and it isn’t Rinoa he wants stripped and brought to his room when we’re taking prisoners, but he cared about her. He does taunt her about their past relationship, but we’ve already established this is just part of his communication skillset.  Yes, I will elaborate more if asked, though it’s more feeling based than text based. 

A wish: If there’s ever a sequel, let him have put out the good in the world that was his dream and be seen as a hero. Let us see a matured and peaceful Seifer. 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: My one fear if they ever remake FFVIII instead of just porting it, is that some of the creative team have said they like the fan theory where you are dead part way through the game and the rest is a dying dream or purgatory. It’s creative stuff; I will say that. It’s not my favorite, and I don’t agree, but those kinds of fan interpretations when they go in depth are super cool. PLEASE LET THE INTEREST IN IT JUST BE THE SAME AS MINE OF THINKING IT’S CREATIVE BECAUSE MAKING THIS  CANON WOULD BE SO, SO BAD FOR EVERY CHARACTER.

5 words to best describe them: stubborn, misguided, paladin, romantic, petty

My nickname for them: I don’t really have one

[spockandawe]

I’m so unbelievably weak against characters who make terrible choices because they’re hurting and upset. I love the subtler resentful decisions that quietly build up ill will, and I love the big dramatic choices that end with everyone going down in flames. But more than anything, I love love love hurting myself with the emotional flavor of a character struggling with the tension of simultaneously realizing that people hate/mistrust them (or how much people hate/mistrust them, or which people hate/mistrust them), while also realizing that those people just have... no idea where they’re coming from.

I was thinking about this first because of Mu Qing, who is honestly a very low-key version of this scenario (and it’s also quieter since he’s not a lead character and rarely takes the spotlight himself). But the first big tgcf flashback honestly made my heart ache, seeing him trying to walk a line between maintaining his own independence/pride and not belonging to someone he wants to be peers with, but when he tries to be tactful, people decide he’s being shady.  He was picking cherries, to bring a treat to his poor mother (and the poor children around his home), but then got accused of stealing, and then didn’t want to say that it was because his only remaining parent was living in poverty. And it continues through the present day! He knocks out Feng Xin so he can save him from a burning city, because Feng Xin refuses to leave, and people are like ‘>:OOO MU QING ATTACKED FENG XIN??’ In some ways, this character hurts me more than the others, because he rarely does anything wrong, he has a bad attitude, but his most significant “missteps” tend to be like ‘you could have been a little more kind, tbh.’

But also too, I’ve been working my way through the svsss extras again, and... Shen Jiu. God, Shen Jiu. This character is agonizing, and I love him so much. He makes terrible choices! He does terrible things! He tries to set up an actual literal child to die horribly, because he resents that this child had a parent who loved him, and that he found his way to Cang Qiong young enough to reach his full potential! It’s absolutely unforgivable! But nobody except Yue Qingyuan has any clue how much Shen Jiu has been through and how to possibly help him grow or heal or how to support him into better decision making. And Shen Jiu is so hurt by the way Yue Qingyuan left him that he refuses to let Yue Qingyuan help him now. Like! This child was a slave, begging for food on the streets, then was sold to a rich boy who abused him in sexually-flavored ways and planned to marry him to his sister so he could keep him forever, and then his “rescuer” was a scumbag adult who taught him to steal and murder. 

And while Shen Jiu was suffering, he thinks Yue Qingyuan, who came from the same beginning and who promised to come back for him, was living in careless pampered luxury in a prestigious cultivation sect. Shen Jiu’s own self-evaluations are incredibly harsh, from the moment he’s reunited with Yue Qingyuan. He calls himself terrible, he calls himself a thing, and once it’s clear that he’s going to pay the price for his bad decisions, he tries hard to shove away the one person who cares about him and find some way to protect him. Yue Qingyuan never stopped loving him and defending him, but literally nobody else in the world has any sympathy for him whatsoever. How am I not supposed to be heartbroken? Shang Qinghua sighs over how his readers used to hate on Shen Qingqiu for having no motivations, which, sure, that’s understandable from what’s on the “Proud Immortal Demon Way” pages, but seeing the trauma driving his choices in svsss and seeing his own self-awareness and self-loathing and knowing that one (1) person in-universe has any inkling of his internal world (and that person died trying to help him), I’m! In pain!!!

Plus, in svsss proper, I saw a post in passing once that was something like... ‘readers are hard on luo binghe, because he’s the only mxtx protagonist where we see the worst decisions of his life and aren’t in his head to understand why he’s making those decisions.’ Which I still find fascinating, and think about often. It makes sense to me. And as far as my terrible-decision-making children go, he’s very interesting to me because he doesn’t really deal with the widespread distaste/mistrust that mu qing and shen jiu experience, it’s very much targeted on one person. I live for the parts of svsss where all Luo Binghe has to do is breathe, and Shen Qingqiu flinches and bolts. And Luo Binghe is not acting in kind or well-considered ways, a lot of the time! But he was seventeen, and his beloved teacher had told him that ‘humans can be good or evil, demons can be good or evil,’ but the moment Luo Binghe turned out to be half demon, even though he’d just been fighting desperately trying to protect Shen Qingqiu, that teacher he trusted more than anything immediately turned on him, stabbed him in the chest, and threw him into hell.

That’s agonizing!!!! Even without the aftermath, that’s agonizing to read! And when Luo Binghe comes back, years later, he’s upset, he’s hurt, he’s lonely, he’s still stinging from that betrayal, of course he’s not making good decisions. I follow good blogs, because I haven’t seen any terrible Luo Binghe takes on my dash, but I’m kind of :c that these takes apparently exist. Again, it’s not that I think he makes good decisions, but I can see why he makes bad decisions, and I can see other characters missing that context, and I am rolling in terrible, glorious pain. Luo Binghe shows up secretly in Huan Hua Palace and starts taking it over and generally acts shady as heck? Well, Shizun wouldn’t let him beg for forgiveness when he was a disciple, and he’s afraid to face Shen Qingqiu until he can meet him on a semi-equal footing. Luo Binghe gets angry and spiteful when Shen Qingqiu asks if he’s responsible for the sowers? Yes he does! He’d always, always tried to do right by Shen Qingqiu, and trusted Shen Qingqiu when he said demons could be decent people, but the moment he turned out to be half-demon, Shen Qingqiu immediately started expecting the worst from him at every turn. It hurts! I don’t blame him for acting on that hurt! And I am so endlessly compelled by the way that Shen Qingqiu completely fails to recognize the context for where Binghe is coming from.

And like... I cannot leave out Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao. Xue Yang is fascinating in his own way, because the steps are... a lot more explicit and clear-cut than some of these other characters. Shen Jiu’s downward spiral is very internal and he curls up tight to hide his weak spots even with the person who values him most in the whole world, but Xue Yang very plainly tries to lay out his reasoning for his most important person. His whole world is crumbling by the time things reach that point, and it was probably beyond salvaging, but god! He tries so hard to explain the position the world placed him in, from childhood onward, helpless and vulnerable, and that nobody was going to defend him except himself. 

But when Xiao Xingchen doesn’t understand what he’s trying to communicate, when he realizes that the person he values most isn’t willing to hear what he’s trying to say, he starts lashing out again and trying to hurt. It’s the same lesson he learned when he was young, in some ways. ‘If I’m stupid enough to trust you, you’re going to use that to hurt me.’ And then the logical next step, ‘If you’re going to hurt me, all I can do is try to hurt you worse.’ You can see the trauma playing out right there on the page, and it’s agonizing. I can understand some people not enjoying reading things that make them hurt that way, but I have trouble Getting it when people don’t at least find that kind of dynamic compelling as hell. I’ll sometimes avoid media that I know is going to make me sad, but if I’m in the mood to Experience Sadness, I know a dynamic like this is going to grab me by the heart and shake me like a ragdoll.

And... Jin Guangyao. He was on my mind too, partly because I’ve seen a few takes on his motivations lately that honestly kind of baffle me? Like, to each their own, especially since mdzs never takes us inside his head. But I see posts that like... he was bullying Nie Mingjue, or what if Lan Xichen could Tell he was never genuine and mistrusted him on some level, and how to put this. It’s not that I agree with the choices he made, though I really don’t want to play fandom purity police in any way, shape, or form (murder is good, actually), but I understand the choices he made enough that those sort of interpretations that skew towards the cruelty-for-the-sake-of-cruelty territory honestly kind of upset me.

There’s some interesting comparisons to be made with Mu Qing, in some ways. They both grew up poor, without a father, in “shameful” single-parent situations (a sex worker mother vs. a father being executed for being a criminal). They were poor boys with ambition, but no matter how they tried to carry themselves with dignity, those poor beginnings were rubbed in their faces, years after the fact. I think it does make a real difference that Mu Qing’s shame is mostly based in his own history (sweeping floors) while Jin Guangyao’s is more external (son of a whore), and that Jin Guangyao’s also insulted a parent who he loved dearly, and that Mu Qing was seeking the respect outside of famiial structures while Jin Guangyao was desperate to be accepted by his father.

There’s so much of Jin Guangyao’s early life that’s like ‘I’m Just Trying To Live My Life, My Dude,’ and it hurts me to watch. He really didn’t have goals that were all that excessive! If his goals were excessive in some way, it’s only by virtue of how highly ranked his father was, which isn’t his fault. His goal: ‘I want my father to accept me into the family.’ What the world saw: “oh my god, this son of a whore SERIOUSLY wants to be brought into this noble family, lmaooooo.’ There are characters who are more compassionate than that, and a lot of that reaction is down to the nature of the setting, but LORD, man! It’s honestly a pretty restrained goal for a kid to have! Especially when his father totally promised to come back for him someday, and he waited patiently for years before setting out on his own.

And even once he gets kicked down the steps of Koi Tower and dials back his ambitions, he gets so little space to breathe. He’s learning cultivation late, he takes a position as a nobody in a different cultivation sect, he’s just trying to live. But no matter how he rolls with the punches, no matter how he smiles and bears it, he’s being constantly, constantly prodded in that old, painful bruise. I’ve been finally working my way through The Untamed, and it was painful to watch, in Gusu, when he’s trying to present the Nie Sect’s gift to Lan QIren, and people just start focking gossiping about him, right there, perfectly audibly. And when we see him back in Qinghe, he’s perfectly polite and deferential, and that one disciple is still like ‘fuck you, ur mom was a whore.’

He makes bad decisions, but even when he makes good decisions, he can’t win. I don’t get anything from him at all that suggests he had Hugely Lofty Ambitions from a young age, he just wanted some kind of decent life, but almost nobody would cut him a break. Nie Mingjue did cut him a break, and Lan Xichen was gentle and kind to him, and that made such an impact on him. But I also think it made it that much worse, when he made later questionable decisions, and Nie Mingjue refused to let him explain himself. Nie Mingjue’s rigidity breaks my heart in lots of ways, but especially when it comes to Jin Guangyao. I don’t want to make this all about personal attachment, but it’s kind of inescapable in this situation. Nie Mingjue sends him a loud, violent message that if he’s not perfectly morally upright, he’s Done. But by now, Jin Guangyao has years of history of people being cruel to him based on a history he never was able to control. Nie Mingjue protected him, but hes made it clear that protection was... conditional. There could be arguments about how conditional, and what the non-murdery limits would have been, but the murder has been done, and it was already clear that Nie Mingjue never had the power to protect him from everything.

I can’t read Jin Guangyao’s later actions without also reading that fear and insecurity into his decisions. He even tries to say it outright, that he’s afraid of everyone and everything, and Nie Mingjue misses the point. Jin Guangyao hurts me a lottle, because he suffers both in terms of the general public’s judgment of him, but also in the judgment of someone he cared deeply about. I can see the reasoning and trauma, but so many other people in the story can’t. Jin Guangyao gets pushed to the edge by how his father holds him at arm’s length from the family, the atrocities he tells Jin Guangyao to commit on his behalf (and then maybe I’ll treat you like my actual son, maybe), but when he tries to express that, Nie Mingjue is like ‘can’t you just endure more, though??’ He builds a temple with a statue with the face of his dead beloved mother, and the public is like ‘omg, he made that statue with his OWN FACE, can you believe it??’

In some ways, the way Lan Xichen determinedly loves and trusts him makes it all hurt even worse. I absolutely believe Jin Guangyao when he says that he never once wanted to act against Lan Xichen. So many of the terrible decisions Jin Guangyao makes tie so directly to him seeking either safety or security. But he works hard in social gatherings to keep the peace and people think he’s two-faced. He endures years of mistreatment before hitting back and people judge him for hitting back at all and say that well, what else could we have respected from someone with that background. Nie Mingjue threatens to kill him multiple times, and he was a very straightforward, honest man, of course Jin Guangyao was frightened of him and decided it was safer to see him dead. I live for the pain of seeing a character I love make decisions I strongly disagree with, understanding why they’re making those decisions, and seeing other characters not understand, and simply hate them for the decisions.

This isn’t exactly new, this is why I’ll never be able to shake my love for Starscream, even if his quality of motivation... varies by continuity. And Pharma and Prowl are two of my favorite characters in all of idw1 for exactly this reason. I’ve got  at least three fics brushing up against Pharma’s resentment over ‘yes, i got ordered to run a hospital on a garbage planet I was sharing the most violent, sadistic decepticons in existence, I SURE WONDER WHY I WAS DRIVEN TO THIS DESPERATE POINT, BUT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THINKS I’M JUST A TERRIBLE PERSON, SO I GUESS THAT’S THAT.’ 

And in the murderbot books, I genuinely get reduced to tears when murderbot has to deal with people compassionately interpreting its behavior instead of giving it no credit, the way its used to. I find the raksura books intensely, intensely satisfying in how Moon struggles to fit into a highly social, close-knit society after growing up so traumatized and alone, and how his colony gradually adapts to him and gets used to his quirks, instead of driving him out, the way he’s experienced so many times. No real conclusion here, I was just spacing out during a work training call, and got overtaken by how much I love characters who experience this particular flavor of emotional isolation.