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bestworstcase · 2 years

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you've mentioned that you're anti-redemption arc? i think? so i kind of wanted to ask what you meant by that? are you against redemption arcs as a concept (like you think they shouldn't be used in writing) or is it more like you're against like the expectation a lot of people have for every character reformation to be a redemption? or is it something else?

when i say redemption arc what i’m referring to specifically is villain-to-hero arcs that are structured around absolution through suffering and forgiveness—the, not to put too fine a point on it lmao, Christian Model.

cassandra’s arc is a perfect example.

1. she sins—stealing the moonstone, usurping rapunzel’s rightful destiny

2. she suffers—spending more than a year beholden to a cruel demon who uses her as an unwitting pawn and then brutally stabs her in the back when her usefulness ends

3. she repents—sobbing and castigating herself to rapunzel, who embraces, forgives, and comforts her

4. & she’s absolved by that grace, literally paying the debt of her wrongdoing with her life and then being resurrected through rapunzel’s love for her—after which everything is gravy and she gets to skip off happily into the sunset without a care.

notably absent here is any narrative engagement or reckoning with:

1. the actual wrong things cassandra did

2. the wrongs done to cassandra

3. her reasons for acting this way

4. the systemic injustices that created her

5. genuine healing or atonement

and then the fandom collapsed into the same tired argument that always happens when a villain is given a redemption arc without undergoing the optional step of atonement, which boils down to one side going “she didn’t deserve forgiveness! she should have been punished!” while the other goes “she literally died! of course she deserves to be forgiven! hasn’t already suffered enough?” or sometimes trotting out the ol’ “the point of forgiveness is that it isn’t something you can earn” bit.

and

i adore villain-to-hero arcs. i also love hero-to-villain arcs. i am ALL ABOUT characters undergoing huge realignments of perspective or morality or motive that wrench them from one side of their narrative to the other. but i like to, you know, see it

( and also im an evangelical apostate )

and the thing is, the classic redemption arc—those narrative beats of temptation, fall to sin, suffering, repentance, absolution—it’s not really about character growth, good or bad: it’s a christian moral fantasy that arose from the narrative structure of 15-16thc european morality plays and metastasized into the western storytelling tradition, fantasy and science fiction in particular. it is inseparable from christianity and the profoundly christian idea that choice and deeds are irrelevant to moral goodness because salvation is given by grace to those who humble themselves to ask for it.

I DETEST THIS.

not to be like, anti-christian on main but when i was eight or so, someone broke into our church and robbed the offering box; that weekend in sunday school the pastor’s wife got up in front of her little gaggle of children to tell us this—describing to us, with palpable indignation, how she and her husband discovered the theft, how upsetting and violating it felt, and what kind of person steals from a church?—and then she asked us how we felt about that. we were all furious, of course, in the way all eight-year-old children will be furious if you sit them down and tell them a bad person did a terrible thing to you. and then she tsked at us and primly informed us that that was the wrong answer, because jesus would say to forgive and pray for the thief, and our anger is rooted in sinful human nature and the temptations of satan. all my little—again—EIGHT YEAR OLD sunday school classmates just sort of wilted, and i very distinctly remember thinking but that’s not fair—you tricked us!

it’s been twenty years and i still get mad when i think about it. this is one of my clearest childhood memories. i didn’t have the emotional vocabulary to articulate or understand this at the time, but recognizing that the pastor’s wife had purposefully manipulated our sunday school class to make us ‘sin’ so that she could teach us a lesson about how we were bad and needed god to save us from ourselves completely obliterated my trust in the underlying moral framework of christianity.

like. hating the moral logic redemption arcs are built on top of is literally one of my key formative childhood experiences, is what i’m getting at—

and to be clear, i’m in no way opposed to heroic characters forgiving reformed villains for past misdeeds (or villains forgiving corrupted heroes lmao). the act of forgiveness in and of itself is not the bone i have to pick with redemption arcs. nor do i care if the villain switches sides without first suffering punishment or retribution or even properly apologizing: cass knocked a kingdom down and got off scot free, and i say good for her!

what i take issue with is repentance-and-forgiveness being the fulcrum of moral change—the thing that actively transforms the villain into a hero. i want character arcs that are interesting and dynamic and driven by intrinsic motivation and choices! i want characters with agency who react to things like real people instead of roles in a morality play! i want to be able to read or watch a fantasy story without getting sucker punched by bland repetitions of a moral perspective i categorically reject, especially by narratives that do not otherwise align with that moral perspective!!

i would also very much like it if fandom at large would stop calling every. single. villain-to-hero arc ever written a ‘redemption arc’ and i would LOVE it if people would stop mindlessly applying the structure and moral logic of redemption arcs to villain-to-hero arcs that aren’t that, because oh my GOD i’m tired of the endless discourse about whether the character du jour was sufficiently punished for their wrongdoing to deserve ✨forgiveness✨

if you ever want to break yourself start mentally substituting “deserves to try to be a better person” every time you read the phrase “[character] deserves a redemption arc” and then you, too, can look upon christian moral hegemony and despair

#rwby fandom rly trying my patience in this regard

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made-nondescript · 1 year

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Lore guy anon returns! With question answers! (I love answering questions so feel free to ask any)

The whole him traveling thing is. Complicated to explain due to a big giant piece of worldbuilding I did that is, basically, long story short: oopsie! The fae realm is all over the ocean now and it's messed up almost all sea travel! (The pirates (or at least their captains) are fae, don't worry about it its a whole thing)

But it basically means that when people leave the continent, they aren't really expected to return. Doing some worldbuilding on the spot (since your questions have revealed where this backstory idea conflicts with the family idea), maybe Scott's parents croaked (since I just haven't bothered with them so might as well shove them out of the picture) and that's what prompted scott to go on his travels, cuz ya know might as well see the world. I've also given him vague sisters (sisters to contrast qith the brother he had in xornoth in s1) that also left not long after him, siting better opportunities outside of chromia and the continent as a whole.

(((Oh wait I just remembered he's mentioned his parents (as his dad was where he got the hat from, and he was a traveler as well), so maybe that's also why he decided to leave. He also prolly saw most of the continent on family trips and such, so beyond was the only place to go that would be new)

But scott eventually did return (after being literally robbed blind), and became the talk of the town because of it! With the sisters being a useful writing thing to show that aspect of the culture more directly, because like. They haven't come back. Most don't.

And again on 'questions providing useful jumping off points for building', I haven't got much for the family fueds (I'll have to make the families and their fueds first. I've been on holiday so I haven't quite managed to), I imagine scott, now an adult rather than just a child hearing gossip, prolly doesn't see much of it. He'd be like, the last member of that branch of his family, so he can kinda do what he wants. But since he became Important by happenstance, the other families might even try to get in his good graces, get him to agree with them and get trades and allies that favor their laws. Weither or not he's aware of their attempts, who knows, not me! (yet).

Also on the topic of his family, the llamas are less a chromia thing and more a smajor family thing. I say this cuz i find the llamas being more a scott thing to be halarious, but like theres still a whole park dedicated to them. Although scotts definitely particular about the llamas, in a very rich animal kid kind of way. Like, say, when the bar needed a new barkeep, scott was all like "Oh! Owen could do it!" "Good! Who's Owen?... scott that's a llama..... eh ya know what, better than our last guy!"

Also I'm liking the idea that the whole no central leadership thing in chromia is a big source of pride. They don't need someone to order them around, they can simply come together to agree on things! They ignore how the Important Families are still a similar concept (although again on pride, those families also tend towards making sure that they care for their communities. If they aren't, they aren't being proper citizens! And if they become cruel, the people can always just. Stop listening to them, due to the structure of the laws and all that. (Obviously a bit more complicated than that but yeah))

This ask is even longer than the last :D! (Haven't even mentioned the ancient capital!!) But like feel free to answer more questions. For other empires I also have some slight stuff for Sanctuary (although it's more in how it relates to the other empires), I've got some concepts for Stratos (and how it contrasts the other empires, including its nearest neighbor, in both local and culture, chromia), as well as two seperate ideas for tumble town??? One of which, the more recent one, I believe was prompted from musing on your blog! (Like tumble town being a gold rush town who's mines have run empty)

FAE PIRATES OMG... that is very unique. I really dig that and the idea that like, leaving the continent is kind of expected to be the end of you. Scott's whole eye situation very nicely compliments that attitude towards venturing off continent too, because he may have come back but like, at a cost.

The llamas being a Scott thing IS so funny I love that. They just like their llamas okay!! the real question is whether the whole family treated animals like they're capable of human tasks or if Scott is just Weird. EITHER way, Owen would have to be very well trained to stay behind the bar for a suitable amount of time! so! Scott's affections are not misplaced.

Imagining in this society that the affluent families kind of apply pressure on one another to be good maintainers of their communities as well. Like it's a status symbol or something to have a particularly well cared for community.

Which, on the subjects of communities being clustered around the more affluent families, does that mean that Scott's family (or rather, Scott and his sisters?) was kind of negligent by leaving? Regardless of responsibility - if any - to their community, did they (temporarily or permanently) redistribute their resources before doing so? Was somebody else in charge? Maybe dynamics vary a lot between communities (which would no doubt be infuriating to foreigners). Did they simply not amass very much in the way of traditional resources? Ohh maybe their affluence comes from a non-traditional source, due to their travels.

Additionally, on no centralized leadership being a point of pride: I can imagine that getting very frustrating for Scott very fast. Not that he wants to be leader or anything, but he's basically being made to do the job of one without having the power to actually make decisions. So someone from another Empire asks him a question and he just sighs and says he'll get back to them after the 5 to 25 business days it takes for everyone to chime in on the issue.

These are so awesome thank you for sharing!!! All of those ideas sound wonderful frankly!!!! Specifically staring really hard at what you said about Stratos and Tumble Town omg ??

#kind of obsessed with random adventurer turned state figurehead scott #bc it sounds. SO exhausting #in a funny silly way #nondescript ask #Anonymous #lore guy anon

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im-overstimulated-and-im-sad · 2 years

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Disorganized thoughts about season 2 of 911 lone star after I watched the finale that I need to put somewhere and the first season of lone star the season finale made me feel so happy and it was such good found family feels and the last three episodes of season 2 of lone star made me feel like this

Not the gif I was going for but I like knives out and it works.

And I figured out why so much of the fic for lone star has a publication date of 2020, which means it was written after or literally while the first season is airing. And the first season is ten episodes long, but they came out of the gate with so many fleshed out characters and potential in those ten episodes!

Sorry getting back to season 2- the first half of the season was good. Tommy kicks so much ass as a character, like I would say the first season is 85% perfect but Tommy is such an amazing character that I wish she could have been in season 1.

And I liked Gwyn, and it doesn’t happen a lot and yes I know it’s all fake but when you look at two characters and it’s like yes I can believe those two people created that person, like damn the resemblance between Lisa/Ronen/Rob is almost freaky it’s so good. I did not love the pregnancy storyline that was kind of a really? They’re doing this? Like I felt like actually having the baby was a mistake- they pointed out she is older for having a child and there are risks, she could have miscarried and then done the whole “we were just together because we thought we were having a baby and this may be your home now but it isn’t mine” or some shit. (I haven’t started the third season yet but I spoil things for myself so I know they kill Gwyn off which WHY- but also then why did they go through the she a has a baby storyline within someone else to kill her off? It’s just… messy.

TK becoming a paramedic- good development. The kidnapping plot and the Judd/Grace episode were all good and the team throwing the birthday party for the little boy who had no friends and TK throwing the intervention for Owen and the entire team discussing Owen while in a call forgetting he can HEAR them- all good!

And then everything came to a screeching halt.

Like I feel the Tarlos condo burning down after the 126 was sabotaged would have been good ideas… if they hadn’t inadvertently been Owen’s fault?

But that would mean dealing with the “now we don’t have to unpack ALL of that” attitude of 2x12. Here are the things that should have been dealt with:

TK and Carlos’s confrontation at the firehouse getting physical

The entire Owen being arrested being a huge set up

How the hell did Owen explain the above to TK?

Did Carlos’s dad and Owen tell Tarlos this together?

The fact that the 126 being sabotaged and then the Tarlos condo burning up was because Owen couldn’t contain his boredom. I know that’s an oversimplification but still.

All of this could have been addressed in 2x13, along with where TK and Carlos went after they were cleared by medical, like of course they went back to Owen’s place but the fact that we did not get any scenes of TK and I’m-the-most-polite-person-in-the-world Carlos living with I-have-no-concept-of-personal-space-or-anything-resembling-chill Owen and I’m-actually-a-giant-puppy Mateo, that we got no scenes of those four living together- we were robbed.

Because what did we get instead?

That did not have to happen?

TOMMY’s HUSBAND DID NOT HAVE TO DIE.

I’m sorry, one more time-

CHARLES VEGA DID NOT HAVE TO FUCKING HAVE TO DIE. IT DID NOTHING FOR THE PLOT.

Seriously- there was never a chance that Tommy was going to leave and not be their captain anymore. And honestly, her staying in the job after he had died and she did not have to, does not seem the right decision with the information she lays out!

Because if Charles’ life insurance policy was big enough to support them and she’s in her fifties and is a single mom now to two pre teens, if she did not have to work the why the fuck would she? It seems the wrong choice in that context!

But, but, if they wanted to have Gina Torres be the focus of an episode, if they wanted to make this choice, I think they could’ve done that for the finale.

In 2x13, instead of say having Tarlos on screen for TWENTY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SECONDS where they’re like “even though our living space and all of our possessions burned up less than twenty four hours ago, we have nothing more pressing to do than wander into our crispy burned up firehouse to play with a half burned foosball table and play some fucking BOGGLE.”

Instead of that, Carlos could’ve dealt with fact that he is having some feelings about what happened and that he doesn’t have these feelings often because he’s Carlos and he keeps it together and is stoic and that didn’t mean he had a fire extinguisher in the room when he needed one. Him and TK could have I don’t know fucking slept or tearfully hugged Carlos’s parents after their son almost died. TK and Owen could have, and this is just spitballing.. HAD AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION. ABOUT ANY OF THE EVENTS THAT TRANSPIRED IN FIRE EPISODE.

LIKE SERIOUSLY. PICK ANY ONE.

I have a feeling that after the first season someone went into the writers room and said “okay, we got a second season, we need less beats of people standing around talking things out. In our ten episodes you notice how often our characters just… talk to each other? About what is happening? Yeah that’s gotta stop. We need more people melting from the heat- like we need flesh literally melting off the bone like these people are gas station ribs! We need bombs made of lava to TAKE PEOPLE OUT. We need people catching themselves on FIRE”.

I would like to find that person and take them to task. Because there are so many things that happened in 2x12 that should have been talked about that just…weren’t.

What they could have done is have Charles have a health episode and then in the 2x14 Tommy could worry about his health opening the restaurant and then she could do the whole should I be working? Thing and then decided she wanted to keep her job and Charles would still be alive.

And Billy Tyson- Jesus fucking Christ.

Like again, the firehouse being threatened with closure, that is a good plot point, and it’s the end of season 2, it makes sense. But this could have done without Billy Tyson.

Like yes I know technically he just helped Owen but it’s like Owen- STOP TELLING BILLY THINGS. I really feel this is something literally anyone could have told Owen if this is still a show where people talked to each other.

And that is just some petty shit that Owen turns down the job and the deputy chief gives the job to Billy and is like “and now we’re going to close his firehouse- WITH HIS OWN BUDGET! MUHUHUHUHAHAHA!”

I’m sorry if this made no coherent sense, I was just watching the last three episodes in the second season like what the actual fuck????

Like y’all made me love these characters and then this is how you treat them?!?!

For real- in the season 2 finale, literally all Carlos did was raise his eyebrows like “why y’all like this?” while the 126 told him about Matteo’s temporary Captain almost dying- that’s all he did. In the whole episode.

And he won over Tommy’s daughters and that was cute.

But you know who should have been there?

Charles Vega-

THATS WHO.

#no i will not stop bringing that up #still salty #charles vega #should not have died #neither should gwyn #911 lone star #911lonestaredit #owen strand #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #tk and carlos #tommy vega #billy tyson

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degrees-of-fuck · 1 year

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Thinking about my OCs as DoL protags #1: Leticia Lorelei

this is even more self indulgent than usual god damn. also warning for long.

She’d honestly be kind of the best at it of my gang tbh. Her life already ain’t that far off if we’re being honest. People are a lot more open about treating her like an object here. Unsure how to feel about that!

Lettie appeared as an infant near the orphanage nestled among the plants and immediately became a huge problem on account of her psychic powers. I’m pretty sure instead of crying as a baby, she just projected violent psychic interference into peoples heads?? Like the instincts are just different. And then it only really got worse as she got control over her powers and got older and more capable of active malice. So Bailey fucking hates her guts lol. Her endless debt is somehow even more than that of the average orphan on account of this.

Her reputation is one of her most important tools, so as much as it she knows it would make her life easier, she can’t let herself go straight into stealing or sexwork (Though while she won’t outright rob people, she Will con them to their faces.) I think she’d mostly associate herself with the temple. Plus, having provable magical powers that she can easily dress up as miracles, I feel like she’d be able to net herself a pretty cushy and important position with them. (Though at the same time, there’s Gonna be people that think she’s sus as hell and occasional attempts to use her mysterious powers as a scapegoat for literally anything that goes wrong) She does have to cheat her way through virginity tests. Nobody knows she’s doing it and thus nobody will ever know exactly how. (fuckin magic smh) Also uses herself in Scary But Powerful blood sacrifices a lot, so that probably contributes something or other.

None of the in game TFs particularly fit her? But I think a hypothetical deer or lamb TF would work really well for her. So that. Either/or. Angel seems like the obvious one but it really doesn’t quite fit when in reality she’s a) most definitely not a virgin and b) a fucking liar. She’s a magical illusionist with knowledge of the occult and some spells under her belt, not an actual miracle-worker.

She wouldn’t have an LI that she cares for in any major way tbh except maybe a more platonic fondness for Robin, but she’d be in all of their good graces. Being in constant danger, she does kind of need as many people as possible to be willing to kill for her, or fork over all their mortal possessions to her. She probably doesn’t actually know Alex, though. Which is a shame because she’d love going to the farmlands and helping look after all their animals and stuff. Chronic illness is a bitch, tho.

I think the love interests she’d be most closely associated with tho are Sydney and Eden. Sydney for clear temple reasons and Eden because regardless of if it’s because she was sold or abducted or whatever, Lettie is more than happy to slip into a comfortable, quiet life where she just stays in the forest hermit’s cabin and be fully protected and provided for. However, she knows in her heart she can’t risk letting them take over her life, even if she does manage to keep the psychological upper hand. Because Eden is fucking SCARY. So, once her money situation is stable, she tends to spend her weekends with Eden. (Sorry Avery lol, ur only use to her was money) Besides, she doesn’t want to risk Bailey sending someone else out to collect money she doesn’t have because she was gone too long.

At school, she has like 0 status on account of being quiet and visibly really weird. Not to mention genuinely creepy in how she manages to puppeteer the people around her. The temple association doesn’t help. Although considering her tendency to cozy up with Everyone, she does likely have Whitney’s protection. Best subject is English, worst is Swimming.

Teacherwise, I think she’d be closest with River! Again, for temple reasons. She probably has a lot of information about all of them, Leighton included, but she’s yet to blackmail them. She’s just sort of... Keeping it in her pocket for later use.

Every time someone asks her out, she pretends to be SO unbearable sweet and innocent that she just doesn’t understand what they’re telling her and takes it as a declaration of intense friendship. The exceptions to this are the likes of Whitney and Kylar, who don’t really ask you out so much as they just decide you’re together now. On that front, she. Kind of just tells both of them the ‘truth’ oddly enough lol. She’s such a subservient little pushover, it’s no shock she got suckered into that! So basically, she just lets them take it out on each other.

I.... I wouldn’t be shocked if Kylar abducted Lettie tbh. Actually, that sounds about right. Plus, she’s so weak and sickly, it’s better if she just stays with them! AND FURTHERMORE, what if she can use her miraculous powers to help their parents! (She can’t, sorry lol)

She tried to get a job at the cafe. She was allowed to be a waitress there for a while and did great at that, but the moment she got an opportunity to work in the kitchen she was just fired on the spot after what happened. We don’t talk about the incident. She also probably sells lots and lots of flowers. (And tho it’s not a thing you can do in-game, her skills in sewing, embroidery and various other fiber arts would probably be moneymaking opportunities.)

I’m... Unsure how the Wraith would feel about her. I feel like some kind of close connection would form there, but I don’t know what exactly... Will have to think on this more.

Animals and plant people are inexplicably drawn to her even more than most people? Wild. (Her horde of familiars lmao)

I think she’s equal parts beloved and detested by the town. Some adore her and would very much like to use her (or just her body tbh) to fix every single problem in their life. Some think that she’s a bad omen or deluded and that she ought to be knocked down into her place. Also probably element of corruption kink go brrrrrrr except she’s incorruptible because she’s already corrupt as shit. A fair number of people are convinced she’s a changeling, or some other form of dangerous fae, so they’ll be inclined to avoid her outright.

In some sense, she’s safer than average with her reputation meaning that a lot of people either think too highly of her or see her as too delicate to even make normal physical contact with her, or fear her too much to go near her. But also how known she’d be would mean that she’s very recognizable and anyone that does have half a mind to attack her is going to be extra determined and extra weird about it.

I’m unsure about her title, though I’m still stuck on picking one for Clara who is literally a DoL OC that I play with and exists purely for DoL stuff so that tracks. Buuuuuut... The Enigma, The Divine or The Illusionist would work nicely for her, depending on what angle you wanna focus on. Maybe something relating to how many faces she has lol

As a sidenote, I think she’d like Gwylan a lot!! : ) There we go, that’s one person she might want to be friends with in the entire hell town that she’s not too unwell to actually meet.

#Lettie (DoL AU)#having an oc called eden that lettie interacts with a lot really is rearing its deeply awkward head here huh #its gonna be even worse if i make one of these posts for eden or esmee lmao #anyway im so sorry about this #it wont happen again #probably #it probably will #this was fun #i might even expand on this if you're unlucky

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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[Yandere] How the Liyue men mark you as ‘theirs’ (+ Childe & Kazuha)

The last post blew up so I thought I’d do a continuation! Enjoy ^^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Xiao

Xiao becomes your shadow.

If he didn’t hate the idea of being in public so much, he’d be more open about his presence, but this much should be enough, right? You gain a reputation that you seem more exhausted lately, giving off very strange energies, but you can’t really wrap your head around it either. More often, you find yourself in bad luck, which only adds to your exhaustion, and when you are out all day long, you attract more than your fair share of misfortunes. Sometimes you almost get hit by a falling flowerpot; other times, the item you need desperately is all sold out everywhere. Nonetheless, you never get hurt, and once you go to sleep, your problems get solved overnight, much to your surprise. It’s a very strange time for you, but it finds its peak when some treasure hoarders seem to have it bad for you, a figure you have never seen before appearing out of thin air and ‘taking care’ of this issue as well. Much, much more bloody than you can stomach, unfortunately. Still, who are you to make a sound as the figure approaches you, hesitates before picking you up, and brings you back to your home? Xiao knows he shouldn’t be there with you; shouldn’t meddle into your affairs and taint you with his karma. But what can a man in love do? He wishes he could do more to let everything and anyone know not to lay one finger on his darling, but being your shadow is quite enough for the longest time.

Zhongli

Zhongli (unsurprisingly) makes a special contract with you.

It’s what he is best at, and he just so happens to help you out with it too. Zhongli has yet to grasp all of the human’s desires, but whatever you might fancy, there certainly is one way or another to grace you with it. Perhaps you are in an emergency situation, or maybe you just really want to be on top of your skill. But if you make your want to Zhongli’s mission, you are sure to go out of it successful. He really likes the time he spent by your side, studied your thoughts and actions. And when the contract finally ends, you will go out of it with positive feelings as well. That’s when suddenly Zhongli puts new ideas into your head, just so he can be with you a little bit longer. There is still so much you can archive with his help, and you know he will keep to his duty of fulfilling what you ask. But it has its price. And when the second contract doesn’t rob you of your savings, perhaps the third one will. Zhongli has so much patience and knowledge, yet he never gets annoyed with you - not when you are such a precious darling. You believe him when he tells you, “You need me.” Because why would you not? Zhongli never fails you. “One more,” he offers after you can’t pay the last contract. One more contract to pay off all the contracts, a truely merciful offer. You trust him. He’s been with you from the very beginning, he knows everything about your plans and was always determined to get you through everything. He never fails you. “One more,” you confirm, signing the last contract with him. The punishment is too cruel, this time, your endeavors have to pay off! Your money, home, everyone around you is already gone, and if it doesn’t work out, you won’t have anything to buy yourself out of this one. But you fail yet again. You couldn’t have fulfilled the requirements because Zhongli made sure through meticulously taking everything from you and finding grey zones to sabotage your efforts that there was no way you could fulfill this contract. He’s the one who knew best after all, right? So now, you have to face what you signed, see what the consequences are. And he? He gets to enjoy you indefinitely. Zhongli lets you read your contract as much as you want while you sit on his lap, have his hands explore you, and smiles as you despair over signing away your very being to him.

Tartaglia

Childe uses his influence on other people.

His reputation is already as bad as it can be, seeing he is not only a Fatui Harbinger but also an odd fellow out on the streets. That other people don’t really like him has never bothered him much, but it sure helps a fair bit when it comes to you, his little darling. Whatever he has to do to keep you by his side, he doesn’t back off until he gets what he thinks is in your best interest, may it be: paying horrendous sums of Mora to bring you on a nice date, intimidating businesses into doing what you want or they will get other problems than just a lost sale, or giving other suitors that get too close to you for his taste a good beating. Sure, people warn you about him, but at the same time, it’s in his hands if your life gets a bit easier or much, much harder. He’s already holding back so much to not lash out at you when you feel you can’t tolerant his presence anymore - after everything he’s done, nonetheless! - but you don’t know what kind of powers you are dealing with. No one refuses Childe in a world that only he owns, but if you want to fret a bit first, so be it. What if everyone suddenly turns on you? When no business will take your services or sell you their wares? What if everyone whispers behind your back and the Millilith receive clues about illegal things you might be doing in the safety of your home? Do you really think anyone would willingly want to be seen with you anymore? But no worries, the moment you come back to him, Childe will fix all of this for you. Even if the two options to choose from are like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea, it will still show everyone where you belong to, and even better: Show you who you belong to.

Kazuha

Kazuha monopolizes you.

Both literally and figuratively, you will be in his grip. It takes a while until one of your friends asks if there is any other topic than your new boyfriend that you could talk about. Don’t you do anything besides being by his side and listening to him these days? You didn’t even notice that the only thing on your mind lately is Kazuha, so much so, it does seem to be at a worrying degree. At first, you don’t really see the problem in it. You just found someone you like, and there are probably rose-colored glasses over your perception of him. But when he tells you that you are all he has, and he is so glad that you are in his life and giving it back some worth, it makes you feel special. In front of you, he’d let loose, let go of his composure and speak openly with you. No one else can do that for him but you. You are the only one he can do that with, and when he smiles softly at you, telling you he loves you, it’s almost too good to be true. It wasn’t your intention to fight with your friend that day, but just because they don’t know him like you do, doesn’t mean they can just be mean and say they are getting red flags from how he makes you only be with him instead of how you lived in the past! At least Kazuha understands when you come back upset and miffed, holds you in his arms, and tells you that he’ll always be there for you, just like you are for him. It’s such a bittersweet thing to lose a friend, but even if you lose all of them, Kazuha will still be the one that always greets you back with a warm embrace and confessions of love. He really is the only one you can always rely on, even if that means he is the only one you have left around you. That just means he will get even more of your attention, instead of you dividing it on so many others and your hobbies. Instead, it’s all Kazuha, just like he wants.

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lady-literature · 4 years

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Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them.

And they all live happily ever after the end.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #batfam #crime boss mari #miraculous ladybug #dc #mlb x dc #i was possessed by the need to write this all down #i have so many random ass moments from this au #just scenes taht barely fit together #zero coherency #let me know if yall want that ig #?

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 2 years

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can we just talk for a minute how in the books and even in everyone’s head canons even in like modern aus or alternate universes peeta is always made out to be this angel who would never do anything bad to katniss ever but like he was lowkey a dick to her after he discovered she was just acting in the first games. like she literally kept him alive and chose to do the berry stunt without knowing if it would work when she could have just ended it and been a solo victor. and then he acts all righteous and it annoys me how gale doesn’t get any credit for taking care of her family and being there for her and he doesn’t expect anything from her, whereas peeta becomes all “pity me” when she literally kept him alive

Yeah! Fanon interpretation is my jam and saving grace at times, but fandoms usually have more self-awareness. Imagine what you like and write what you like, but at least acknowledge the in-text flaws of the character! Peeta does in fact have some glaring entitlement issues and general dickishness that everyone ignores. You've named the major ones, so I won't go through them again, but. yeah. Katniss is not to blame for what she did to keep him and her alive, and he is not owed her love, regardless of how he feels. She comes to care for him deeply, but not in a romantic sense, and everyone and sundry expected her to love him in that way, which robbed of her choice to decide how she loved him, not that anyone, least of all Peeta, ever gave her that option to begin with. Gale doesn't expect Katniss's affection or even love. What he wants from Katniss is honesty and acknowledgment, when he offers his. And it frustrates him at times when he doesn't get either, but that is...a whole different thing and is nowhere approaching entitlement to someone’s love. He gives her his love, but he never tries to guilt trip her into loving him back. He just wants her truth.

And yeah. It’s always Peeta this, Peeta that, Peeta’s love for Katniss was so selfless...when in reality, the most selfless person was Gale, who loved and cared for Katniss and what she loved always, under every circumstance. And had no expectations on Katniss’s love.

#thg #the hunger games #thg trilogy #thg meta #katniss everdeen #gale hawthorne #peeta mellark #everlark #everthorne #galeniss #the everlark fandom

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arvinsescape · 3 years

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Peter Parker’s Pianist.

A/N: So this is my first Peter Parker one shot that is not a request, it has literally taken me hours to complete! But I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think, I accept constructive criticism. This does not reflect any particular version of MJ, I love her as a fictional character!

Summary: Peter Parker is completely in love with his elegant piano player.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and suggestive content. Mentions of guns, maybe a few typos and I think that’s it.

W/C: 5.5K

Peter had first met Y/N when he was scoping out a building that was apparently going to be robbed, he had been hiding out on the roof when he had first heard her play. It was a tune he was familiar with but couldn’t name, one of those beautiful classical pieces, he couldn’t help but sit on top of the roof as the music drifted out of the window.

Peter sat on the rooftop waiting for the mayhem to start, he’d been tipped off by the police that there was to be a burglary that night, some old music hall that still had a lot of valuable instruments in it. It wasn’t abandoned per se, it just wasn’t used very often. Peter had received the call a few hours prior, the police didn’t have the funding to deal with the incident and who better to help than the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman?

He became almost lost in the way the music was being played, it had his complete attention and he wondered if that was why he’d missed the group of men entering the building. He’d been told no one should be in it but clearly someone was, and they were pulling him into a trance he had to shake himself out of as he heard a crash from one of the lower levels. Shit, he thought to himself.

Whoever it was that was playing the piano so beautifully clearly hadn’t heard the commotion from the lower level and Peter felt a sense of protectiveness wash over him, whoever it was, he needed to get out of that building before he even considered approaching the men that were currently ransacking the place.

It would appear he wasn’t the only person that had heard the music and was in a desperate rush to get to them because as soon as he swung through the window to help whoever it was that was in there, four men burst through the door on the opposite side. That’s when the music stopped and she looked up from her sheet music, their eyes caught for a brief second before Peter sprang into action.

One of the men had aimed his pistol right at her and Peter fell into a panic as he aimed a web straight for it and pulled it from the man’s grasp. It all happened at once as she moved from her seat and Peter shot out a web to pull the woman towards him, a slight scream leaving her lips as her chest connected with his. It was like electricity started coursing through his veins, his senses running wilder than they ever had before.

He pulled her out of the way as he flipped a table, encouraging her to hide behind it as shots went off throughout the room. He watched as she pulled her knees to her chest and placed her hands over her ears, the fear in her eyes was prominent as she looked wildly at him, almost begging for him to help and he’d never in his life felt more of an urge to help someone.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Peter found himself saying softly as her eyes locked onto his. “I’ll get you out of here I promise. I just need you to stay here until I’ve sorted these guys okay?” He watched as a tear slipped from her cheek and he couldn’t stop himself from taking her hands in his as he forced her to stay focused on him. “I promise I’m going to get you out of here.” He said and she nodded slightly as a bullet flew over the top of the table, smashing a window behind them, a small scream leaving her lips.

This part was easy for Peter, a few careful dodges here and there, a few well placed webs meant that within five minutes all four men were disarmed and strung up waiting for arrest. Now he just needed to make sure the woman got home safely. She did exactly as she was told, he found her in the same position he had left her in. She still looked frightened, he supposed to her she didn’t quite understand that the threat was dealt with, she was safe now.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He said as he held a hand out, she took it, a vice like grip to her hold, she looked so frightened and he wished she didn’t, wished she knew he was here to protect her. He helped her stand, her legs shaking like leaves, she looked as if she might be in some sort of shock, maybe she was. She was quiet, only speaking when she was directing him towards her home. When they eventually arrived outside her house she was less tense than she’d been when they set off.

“Thank you.” She said quietly and Peter smiled but then realized she wouldn’t have been able to see that, so he spoke instead.

“Anytime, just promise me you won’t hang around those places on your own from now on.” He said and he hoped she’d listen; he didn’t want her to put herself in danger again and he relaxed as he watched her nod.

“I promise.” She reassured. “Again, thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“You’re welcome, but don’t think about that. You’re okay and that’s all that matters.” He said and she gave him the first smile he’d seen from her and christ if he wasn’t enamored before he certainly was now.

He’d found himself looking for her as he swung through the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again or hear that beautiful piano through the night, but it had been two weeks and no such luck. It wasn’t until he’d finished dealing with a robbery fifteen days after the encounter that he’d heard her again.

He was on his way home, telling the police where he’d left the men when he heard the sound of a piano coming from the music hall across the road, the music was faint but due to his advanced hearing he didn’t miss it like other ears may have done. He couldn’t help as he climbed the building, he wanted to know if it was her again.

When he got to the window he felt his heart race, there she was, playing another classical piece he’d heard before, he was yet again thrown into a trance as he watched her fingers elegantly glide across the keys. The concentration on her face as she read the music sheet in front of her. She looked so beautiful, and the music only matched her elegance and beauty. He found himself sitting and listening to her play until she’d finished.

He couldn’t help as he waited for her to leave, kept a safe distance as he made sure she got home safe. He wondered if it came across stalkerish, but he only wanted to make sure she got home safely, a guardian angel of sorts, he thought to himself.

This continued on for a good few weeks, he found himself seeking her out at her new place of practice after every patrol, they way she played calmed in, he was becoming completely infatuated with her. Every time he watched and heard her play his feelings for the woman grew. It wasn’t until a month later that he finally plucked up the courage to speak to her.

“You’re really good. The best I think I’ve ever heard.” He spoke as he entered the room through the window, her playing coming to a stop as she turned to look at him.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally speak.” She said and her voice was much steadier than the first night he’d met her. Her voice was soft but firm, more music to his ears. He wondered if he’d ever get over his breakup with MJ last year and here he was, looking at the woman in front of him and knowing that he had. Peter’s face flushed in embarrassment; did she think he was some kind of weird stalker?

“I um,” Peter said as he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d realised.” He admitted honestly. She smiled back at him, one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

“Truth be told I’ve been hoping you’d finally say something.” She said, soft smile still gracing her lips.

“Sorry I just never wanted to interrupt your playing. It’s amazing.” He said as she gestured him to join her, he did, sitting next to her on the piano stool, the close proximity had his heart racing and his stomach doing flips. He felt like a teenager again, not the twenty-two-year-old he’d become.

“What do you want me to play?” She asked. “It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.” She continued.

“I don’t really know that many piano pieces.” He admitted shyly and she laughed, not in a mocking way.

“Any one you like, I’ll play.” She encouraged. “So long as I know it, or the sheet music is knocking around the room.” She added with a small laugh.

“Well, I like that moonlight sonata.” He shyly admitted, he felt out of his element, she probably thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a well-known piece. She only smiled at him.

“I haven’t played that one in a while. I might be a little rusty.” She laughed as her fingers ran over the keys, he wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but held himself back as he listened to her play. She played it perfectly and so effortlessly, a calm washed over him that he’d never had before, it almost felt like it was just the two of them in the whole world. It felt as though a parade could waltz through the door and neither of them would notice, he liked the calm it brought.

“Y/N, by the way.” She spoke as she finished. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting your name. Secret identity and all that.” She said with a small smile, and he found himself wanting to open up to her, tell her who he was but he didn’t.

This became a routine for the two. He’d sit with her as she played. ‘Moonlight sonata’ almost felt like their song, a song that was made for the two of them, it was one of his favourites she’d play. He fell in love with her at some point in the months they’d been doing this. She’d play for him, and he’d walk her home in return. He remembers when she found out who he was, his real name.

“I have really strong feelings for you.” He blurted out halfway through one of her pieces, her fingers suddenly stopped on the keys she looked at him, shock written all over her face.

“You what?” She asked, voice soft as ever, it held a hint of disbelief to it.

“I have really strong feeling for you.” He repeated. He didn’t want to tell her he was in love with her, didn’t want to scare her off. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date?” He asked, hope laced his tone. “If you don’t feel the same, I understand.” He added quickly, he just needed to get his feelings off his chest.

“It’s not that I don’t feel the same, but I don’t know who you are under the mask. I can’t exactly go on a date with spiderman.” She said and his heart soared, she liked him back? “You’re the friendly neighbourhood spiderman and I’m just me.” She said and Peter hated it, hated that she couldn’t see how truly amazing she is.

“You know, under the mask, I’m just a regular guy.” He said.

“I imagine so, but I don’t know that guy.” She said with a sad smile.

“Do you want to?” He asked, he was never more sure of telling someone who he was in his life.

“Of course I do.” She answered honestly. He moved to remove his mask, he felt confident. She smiled again as he revealed himself to her, he knew he could trust her, every part of her screamed that he could and maybe that was why he had no hesitation now that the time was here.

“Then I suppose you should meet Peter Parker.” He grinned.

She’d never told a soul and their interactions became easier as they became more comfortable around each other. Some nights she’d sit in his lap as she played, his arms securely around her frame as he pressed his cheek into her back and listened to her play.

“Why don’t you play for other people to hear?” He asked one day, head on her shoulder as hers was thrown back onto his.

“I’m not that good Pete.” She said.

“You are.” He fired back.

“You’re biased.” She laughed.

“Am not.” He defended himself. “You could make a living out of how good you are.” He added. She turned her head to kiss his cheek.

“Nah, I like it just being you that hears me.” She said and Peter grinned.

“I love you.” He said as he turned his head to look at her.

“I love you.” She returned, almost instantly. He caught her lips with his and smiled as she happily returned the gesture. He pulled away as he rubbed his nose against hers, their relationship had blossomed into something so comfortable and serene. He loved her with everything he had to give, she was his first priority, always.

Although their relationship was so perfect to him, it didn’t mean they didn’t fight, they’d fought many times over the last two and a half years. He remembers when he’d missed a date because someone was terrorizing the city when he was returning home from work, he couldn’t just walk passed it. Although she was always his top priority, sometimes things came up, but never too often.

He knew he’d find her here. He felt immensely guilty for missing their dinner, she’d been so excited the night before, the texts he’d received throughout the day solidifying her excitement. She was playing the piano again, but this time more harshly than he’d ever seen her play, the tune was darker than usual. She was angry, he could tell through the way she was playing, it still sounded beautiful to him.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He said as he sat next to her. She didn’t look at him as she continued to play. “I tried to text, but I had no service.” He added. When she didn’t respond he waited for her to finish, let her play through her feelings, once she’d finished he spoke again. “Baby, I’m truly sorry.” He said and she looked at him, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“I know.” She said in defeat. “I understand, you’re spiderman, something came up, right?” She asked and he nodded.

“I tried to get there, I did. But it all ended up in me chasing them through the city in a car chase. I’m so sorry.” He said and she smiled sadly.

“I know. I’ll get over it, I’m just upset that’s all, I was so looking forward to tonight.” She said and Peter’s heart fell, he never wanted her to feel upset with him. “It’s not like it happens all the time, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be upset.” She said as she placed her hands on his cheeks.

“No I get it.” He said and she smiled again, this time less sadness in it as she leaned over and kissed him.

“I expect you to make it up to me.” She said as she looked at him, seduction clear in her eyes and Peter grinned.

“Oh baby, you have no idea.” He said as he captured her lips in his again.

Not all of their fights were worked out so easily. Sometimes their anger got the better of them both, being spiderman took its toll on both of them occasionally.

“Peter! Fuck.” She said as he fell through the door to their house, they’d moved in together recently, the house was gorgeous. Blood soaked his suit and he’d startled her as he fell through the door.

“Hi.” He said in a small voice. He tried to keep himself stood upright, tried to manoeuvre into the living room without getting blood all over the place.

“What happened?” She panicked as she made her way over to him, helping him stand. “You need to go to the hospital.” She continued her panic as she got him to the couch, reaching for her phone. Peter stopped her.

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He reassured and she looked at him with concern in her eyes.

“Just a few- Are you fucking kidding me?” She screamed as she set off towards the bathroom, muttering under her breath. This wasn’t the first time he’d come home like this. He worried that one day she’d leave him because of it, MJ had. MJ couldn’t deal with the missed dates and the constant worry that came with dating spiderman; she’d asked him to give it up but he couldn’t.

“Baby, I heal fast.” He reassured as she reappeared, first aid box in hand.

“It’s not the point Peter.” She snapped, he wondered why she was so angry, she wasn’t like this last time.

“I just got overwhelmed, that’s all.” He said and she shook her head.

“You need to be more careful.” She said and he nodded.

“I know. I’ll be okay though, I promise.”

“It’s still not the point.” She snapped and his anger flared.

“Look, I’m spiderman, these things are bound to happen from time to time.” She was yet to look at him as she patched up his hand. Her hands were so careful. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” He said.

“Be more careful.” She muttered and he grew annoyed.

“Right, because I went out tonight, not thinking to be careful. I wanted to come home looking like this.” He snapped. She still hadn’t looked at him.

“Just let me patch you up.” She sighed.

“You might hate the fact that I’m spiderman but it’s a part of my life, I don’t know what you want from me.” He said in frustration and that was when she looked at him for the first time and he instantly regretted his tone, her eyes were swimming with unshed tears, but his anger had risen now.

“It has nothing to do with that!” She said in frustration.

“Then what the fuck is it?” He shouted and her tears fell, his face softening completely, his anger washing away as he regretted his tone with her for the second time in a thirty second period.

“I’m terrified!” She shouted as she stood. “I’m absolutely fucking terrified that one day you won’t come home!” She said as she ran her hands through her hair. “I love what you do, truly I do. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for spiderman but fucking hell Peter, you can’t keep being so reckless.” She was shouting now; her tears had become uncontrollable. “I’m not asking you to give it up, I’m asking you to be more careful, I can’t remember the last time I saw you without some bruise or scar.” She was pacing now.

“And I know you heal fast, that they only last a few days.” She continued, he was watching her intently now, she needed to get this out and he needed to hear it. “It’s hard for me to watch. To pretend I’m okay with how much you get beaten up. I want spiderman to carry on doing what he does, fuck knows what the city would be like without him, but I don’t like what that does to Peter. I need you to be okay.” She stopped as she looked at him, desperation in her eyes. “I need you to always come home to me.” She admitted, tone defeated.

“Hey hey hey,” he said as he stood, he instantly engulfed her in his arms, neither of them caring about the transfer of blood. She cried into his chest as he rested his chin atop her head, one hand rubbing her back, the other in her hair. “I’ll always come home to you baby, always.” He said. “I love you okay. I promise I’ll be more careful. You’re stuck with me now.” He said as he let her get it out, let her cry into his chest as he held her.

He understood now, she didn’t dislike the fact that he was spiderman, not in the same way MJ did. It wasn’t because he missed things sometimes or because he wasn’t as available as she wanted him to be, it was because she loved him, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. It made him realise in that moment just how much she was the one for him, she didn’t want him to separate the two she wanted him to take care of both Peter and spiderman.

She was scared he wouldn’t come home, whereas MJ had always been angry he missed things or came home after she’d gone to sleep. Y/N? No. She was concerned about losing him and it filled him with so much happiness, sure, he was a super-hero, but she wanted to take care of him, she wanted him as safe as he wanted her. Fuck, he loved this woman and he wondered, if she asked him to, if he’d give it all up. He decided he probably would, but unlike MJ, she’d never ask.

“How about we get cleaned up? Have a shower? Then I’ll take you to bed and we can cuddle okay?” He said as he coaxed her head from his chest, running his thumbs over her cheeks to rid her of her tears. “I promise I’ll be more careful. I love you so much baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what this was doing to you.”

“I love you.” She said as he picked her up, wincing slightly as she caught a particularly prominent bruise. “Sorry.” She mumbled and he kissed her temple in response.

“Please don’t ever apologize for loving me. I’ve never been loved by anyone the way you love me. Baby, I love you so much.” This was what she needed, she needed him to remind her that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was all hers and that he would always, without any shadow of a doubt, come home to her.

He loved her, with everything he had in him. She was utterly perfect for him, asking her to move in with him had been the best thing he’d ever done. They’d bought an old house, one that needed a ton of work doing to it. Peter had spent hours and many late nights doing it up so they could live in it. There was one room he’d banned her from entering until he was finished, it was the room he took the most pride in.

“Okay, I hope you like it.” Peter said nerves evident in his tone.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.” She said, biting her lip in anticipation. Peter gulped slightly, he really wanted her to love this. He removed his hands that were covering her eyes and she gasped as she put her own over her mouth.

“Please tell me you like it.” Peter worried and she turned to look at him before throwing her arms around him, jumping on him, he only just caught her time. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she peppered kisses on his face.

“Baby, I love it.” She said as happy tears made their way down her face and Peter couldn’t stop his grin.

He let her down and watched as she made her way around the room that had taken him a week to perfect. The room was painted a purple she was in love with, not too bright and not too dark, almost a perfectly calm colour. She approached the bookshelf he’d made; it was a beautiful mahogany; she ran her fingers over it before looking back at him.

“Did you make this?” She asked as he nodded. “I love it.” She smiled. She made her way over to the one thing he’d spent months saving up for, the one thing he’d hoped to get right. He watched as she ran her fingers across the top of the grand piano. She looked mesmerised by it, completely in love and he felt proud of himself. He approached her as she examined the piano and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m glad you like it.” He said as he kissed her cheek.

“I love it. It’s perfect.” She replied as she turned in his hold to kiss him. The kiss grew heated quickly and it became the first room in the house they blessed. They’d had sex on that piano stool more times than either of them would admit to.

He remembers when she’d broken her fingers, an accident that had happened at work. She was so upset that she couldn’t play, and Peter didn’t know how to help her as she grew frustrated, especially when she was building the strength back up in her fingers, but he found a way.

“Peter, it’s pointless!” She said in frustration. “I can’t play anymore.”

“You can, you just need to build up the strength in your fingers again.” He comforted. He was sat next to her as he watched her try to play only for her fingers to cramp up after ten minutes.

“I wish I could get through a piece without having to take a break, it’s infuriating.” She let out a huff.

“Come here.” Peter said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. He encouraged her to place her injured hand on top of his own. “Guide my hand, play through me, then you’re not constantly playing against a hard object.” He had no idea if this would even work but he was willing to try again, she’d grown so frustrated over the time she couldn’t play that he was willing to try just about anything.

It was awkward at first as she guided his fingers over the correct keys, awkward but it made her laugh as she watched him try and help. She said he had a ‘cute look of concentration on his face.’ It became something they enjoyed doing together, even starting to do it with both hands as it became a fun way for them to interact together. Eventually they got it right and Peter smiled triumphantly when they played a song together, he’d never remember they keys himself, but he didn’t care.

She eventually got her strength back but that didn’t stop them from occasionally revisiting their new way of playing together. Although usually it led to her being pinned underneath him as he made her a moaning mess for him.

He was completely head over heals for her and he knew now that she was the one for him, especially after his encounter with MJ a week prior. He always thought seeing the woman he’d first fallen in love with would bring back feelings for him, but it didn’t, not in the way he thought they would.

“Pete?” He heard from behind him, he spun around to look at the face he knew the voice belonged to.

“Hey, MJ.” He smiled; he was happier to see her than he thought he would be. He thought she’d bring back that rush of emotions, but she didn’t, he was still thinking about Y/N.

“Long time no see.” She laughed and he returned it.

“Yeah, how’ve you been?” He asked and she smiled.

“I’ve been really great actually, I met someone.” She said as she held her hand up for him an engagement ring sparkling on her finger. He felt genuinely happy for her, no feeling of bitterness but why would he? He had his Y/N.

“I’m so happy for you.” He said brightly and she smiled.

“What about you? You must be a taken man by now.” She asked and he smiled as he thought about Y/N.

“Yeah, I am.” He said a smile on his face that had MJ smiling for him.

“Who is she? Did we go to school with her?” She pried, only in an interested way, no mocking.

“No, we didn’t. It’s Y/N L/N, she’s amazing. I’ve never met a woman like her.” Peter gushed before realising what he was saying. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be, I’m happy for you.” She smiled. “Are you engaged or?” MJ asked carefully and Peter shook his head. “You should ask her, if she’s so amazing I mean. You wouldn’t want anyone to snatch her up.” MJ laughed and Peter joined but he thought about it, really thought about it and he wondered why he hadn’t asked her sooner. She was the one for him, that much was clear.

“Maybe I will.” Peter said.

So here he was sweaty palms and ring in his pocket as he followed the sound of her music through the house. She was in her music room, exactly where he knew she’d be.

“Hey.” She smiled as he caught her attention from the doorway, his nerves were setting in now.

“Can you play our song?” He blurted out and he watched as smile spread across her face, he needed to calm his nerves, and this was the best way he knew.

“Sure, you gonna sit or just stand there?” She laughed.

“Sorry.” He said as he took a seat next to her, she studied him before taking his hands in hers.

“You seem nervous.” She spoke as she kissed his knuckles, an action she also knew calmed him.

“I just wanna hear you play, it calms me. Always has.” He said and she smiled.

“Okay.” She agreed as she took her hands from his and began to play, Peter listened to the song as it the melody calmed him. She played so beautifully always has and she was enchanting him as she always had, he watched her play and listened to the music, his nerves leaving him. He was ready to do this, ready for the next step with her, he always would be. He waited until she’d finished before he stood, moving to stand in front of her, she looked at him confused before he got down on one knee, her hands covering her mouth as she gasped.

“Y/N L/N,” he said as he took the ring from his pocket, presenting it to her. She had tears in her eyes and Peter felt his own appear. “You have made me the happiest I have ever been. You had me from the minute I first heard you play, I’ve always found it beautiful and elegant, just like you.” Tears of happiness where streaming down the couples faces. “I can’t think of another person who gets me better than you do. You’re the first person in my life who has loved me for being both Peter Parker and spiderman and it means so much to me, more than you could ever understand. Baby, you are everything I want from life and more so please, will you marry me?” He finished and she cried as she flung herself at him, it caught him off guard as he fell backwards, she was on top of him.

“Yes!” She said as she placed kisses all over his face and he’d never felt his heart full of so much love and joy. She was going to be his forever; she’d just agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. He grinned as he let her continue place kisses on his face. She eventually ceased, sitting up as Peter followed, grasping her hand and placing the ring on her finger.

“Suits you.” He grinned.

“I’m so glad I was stupid enough to go that music hall on my own that night.” She grinned as she held her hand out, examining the ring on her finger.

“I love you.” He said as he kissed her cheek.

“I love you so much Pete. Now let me play our song again.” She said excitedly, getting up from her position on the floor, Peter following as they sat on the bench together. He was so glad he met her and she him.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

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pinkoptics · 3 years

Text

Would You Catch Me If I Fall?

aka Cherik Fallen Angel fic

Part 2 of Chapter 2

(Previous parts now on Ao3)

Erik is going to do everything he can to make sure Charles is taken care of. Charles saved his life. That’s why. Right… right???

“Mr. Olsen, I believe you will do exactly as I’ve asked.”

Mr. Olsen opened his mouth, to protest most likely, but Erik was well practiced in speaking in a way that left no room for interruption. “You will, because you are aware of the exact amount my firm has donated to your hospital this year and every other before it.”

Mr. Olsen was turning an interesting shade of red. It had nothing on Azazel, but the flush beneath his skin was making a concerted effort.

“You are also aware of what it would do to this hospital’s reputation for being at the forefront of mutant medicine if my firm were to very vocally withdraw its support and place it elsewhere, say... Johns Hopkins?”

“Mr. Lehnsherr—“ Still red, but now also sputtering. “You do not have the authority. Shaw would never—“

Erik smiled in such a way that Olsen cut himself off. Erik’s smile, though the word hardly applied, very early in his career had earned him the nickname ‘The Shark.’ Only used when he knew his prey was very much backed into a corner of their own making and it was time for the kill.

“If The Incident were to suddenly appear on social media again, with a narrative much closer to the truth...”

Red became purple. “We have an NDA! You can’t—“

“When information is out it is out, Mr. Olsen. Non-disclosures only hold weight if the parties involved care about the consequences. I could give a fuck. Besides, whether this hospital is guilty or innocent, reputations once ruined are terribly hard to salvage, aren’t they? Once, tried in the court of public opinion...”

“Shaw would— you’d be—“

Erik simply raised an eyebrow.

Olsen was right. Erik didn’t have the authority to stop donations, Shaw would have his job and his ass if he ever went to the public about any of the firm’s cases. Moreover, he would probably lose his license to practice. None of those things mattered however, not because Erik truly didn’t care, but because Olsen only needed to believe he was serious. If Erik couldn’t sense the man’s weaknesses, and couldn’t exploit them, he would hardly have been the best lawyer at his firm (no matter what Emma said to the contrary). The seed of doubt, once planted in a weak mind, was notoriously difficult to weed out.

“Fine,” Olsen ground out. Looking like he was very much sucking on a lemon.

Erik levitated the paperwork he had prepared by its staple. It was accompanied by one of the disgustingly expensive fountain pens the firm utilized to perpetuate its reputation. It hovered in front of the sour countenance and Erik felt the same sense of satisfaction he did after a particularly shrewd cross examination.

Threatening Olsen in this way was beyond overkill.

However, Erik knew of nothing else that would resolve Charles’ situation as swiftly. As Olsen scratched out his signature nearly hard enough to tear paper, Charles’ need for insurance, identity, and anything else he did not have, vanished.

Besides, he’d never liked this man or this hospital, so if he got to have a little fun while getting Charles what he needed, all the better. The faster he could get Charles out of here unscathed the better. He owed him that much, possibly more. There were few people insane enough, selfless enough, to throw themselves in front of a car for a stranger. Erik had made it his life’s work to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. Charles had more than earned that same protection until he was back to his former self.

T’s crossed and i’s dotted, Erik left Olsen to fume, so he could share the good news with Charles. The words that had been leaping forward died on his lips when he took in the state of Charles’ room.

“. . . Did you rob a florist?”

Charles graced him with a much less hysterical, much more pleasant sounding laugh than he had any time previously.

“Aren’t people just lovely? This one is from the nurse on call, Ben. He has the most adorable little boy. Teething at the moment, which is trying of course, but he’s so precious one can hardly be cross. I’m sure Ben would be happy to show you the photos too. This one is from Dr. Yousef, whom you’ve already met. She detests flowers, personally, as she’s never home consistently enough to care for them properly. This one is from Saima...”

While Charles no longer appeared to be in a state of hysteria, it appeared to be Erik’s turn, and he became suddenly, hysterically deaf. Had he misplaced a day? Or two? More? Was he the one with the head injury?

“Did you— I mean, do you know them?”

Charles cut off his still in-progress monologue about his sudden and inexplicable well-wishers.

“Oh no. We’ve just met. Nancy would like to get coffee when I’m better though. I believe that is a cultural expression of friendship, is it not? Or does coffee equal sex? It’s so hard to keep track of these things as humans rarely say what they truly mean. Why do you lot insist upon speaking in code? A code that changes every generation no less. Regardless, I’ve never had coffee. Given how utterly obsessed with it you all are I’m rather excited to find out what all the fuss is about.”

Erik didn’t know what part of that to address first, if at all.

Ben, Yousef, Saima... who the fuck was Nancy?

Sex?

Never had coffee?

“Oh Erik, I’m sorry. You look so confused again. I forget myself. I would much rather have coffee for the first time with you of course. At that diner you speak so highly of. I believe diners generally serve coffee.”

Erik blinked. Did that mean Charles wanted to be his friend or have sex with him? Or, did never having had coffee actually mean never having had sex? No. Wait. What in the fuck were they talking about?

What came out was, mercifully, “You make friends quickly.” This was something he and Charles certainly didn’t share.

“Do I?” Charles shrugged. “I love people. All people. They’re so fascinating.” Something else he and Charles certainly didn’t share. In his experience, most people were dull or cruel or both. Except Charles. Charles had been the exact opposite of dull or cruel right from the first. Crashing headfirst into Erik, literally and figuratively, and smashing all his expectations of what people did or didn’t do for one another. It might have also been the head injury/amnesia mitigating the dullness, making him say the most ridiculous things that Erik had ever heard and couldn’t even begin to sort out, but Erik didn’t really think so. He read people extremely well and Charles intrigued him. No one intrigued him.

Shoving the friends/coffee/sex equivalency conversation aside, Erik patted his briefcase. “I’ve sorted out everything with hospital administration. You won’t have to worry about insurance, bills... if there’s anything you need, just ask. They will be sure you get it.”

“I won’t ask how you managed it.” Charles’ look became conspiratorial. Almost as if he did know Erik’s methods. There was no way, of course, that he did unless he was a telepath, which Erik had already briefly mused on. “You really needn’t have troubled yourself, though I appreciate it, you, all the same.”

There it was again. The strange gravity his words seemed to possess. Erik flushed, not something he ever did, feeling that appreciation to his core. Charles’ smile deepened and somehow held the same weight as his words. Looking at it was almost too much, like looking straight at the sun, it warmed parts of Erik he hadn’t even realized were cold.

“You can stay with me,” Erik said, apropos of nothing, then flinched, his own words surprising him. It wasn’t the offer he had intended to make. The Firm put people up all the time for various reasons, and Erik had planned to slip Charles in to one of his current cases with no one the wiser. The doctor felt certain it wouldn’t be long until his memory returned, based on her previous experience of such cases.

Charles’ astonishment seemed to match his own. “Erik, that’s too much. You’ve done so much already.”

Erik rubbed at the back of neck, avoiding Charles’ eyes, which were comically, anime-wide. While he hadn’t meant to make the offer, he also found now that he had, he also had no sense of regret. His flat was large, he practically lived at the firm, so it would hardly be an inconvenience and the less he abused his position, the less tracks he had to cover.

He coughed, “There’s always Nancy.” Erik hoped the joke would break the sudden tension. “You could take her up on her ambiguous offer.” Charles laughed. Success.

“Coffee, and whatever else it may suggest, is a far cry from living together. Besides, I don’t even know Nancy.”

“You don’t know me either. You may have unwittingly saved a sociopath the world would be better without.”

Charles shook his head. “Don’t be absurd. You’re a good man, Erik. Better than you know.”

Everything about this was absurd.

“It’s settled then, when they discharge you, you can stay with me until we figure out who you are.”

Charles’ face, which Erik was already beginning to realize was nakedly expressive, came over suddenly unreadable.

“I—“ Charles hesitated, eyes flicking away from Erik to the window. Erik supposed coming to live with any stranger was enough to give anyone pause, especially someone who was as disoriented as Charles must already be. He was about to shift back to his original, much less awkward, plan when Charles’ gaze focused back on him. “All right. Until... until then.”

“Until then,” Erik echoed and they both fell suddenly silent.

He was inviting someone to live with him when he had never lived with anyone besides his mother his entire life. Roommates? Please. Erik had never had to, but would have rather lived in a squalid apartment than have to share a living space with anyone, even when putting himself through the extraordinary expenditure of american law school. Yet, here he was. Here they were. It felt right. Perhaps he had an overabundance of gratitude and quid pro quo to sate. It was the only thing that made any sense in the face of something that made absolutely no sense.

He’d probably regret it the instant Charles was in his space, but he also wasn’t someone who went back on his word, so he was taking in this stray whether he came to regret it or not.

Mama, at least, would approve.

Now on Ao3

Thanks for reading!!

#cherik #cherik fanfic #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #fallen angel fic #pinkoptics fic

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winterrose527 · 3 years

Note

have you done an Ella - museum curator, Robb - investor on a tour work??

Ummmm no I had not! And wow was this one cathartic to write. It came out way longer than expected because this is a subject near and dear to my heart...

Thank you for this prompt!!

***

She was so sick of this shit.

Over a year of it. Ever since the governor’s order in April 2020. Back then she’d almost believed it was just a blip, a couple of weeks. A vacation, almost.

But then the ban on gatherings. The shutdowns. Finally the masks.

Every museum in the country had shut its doors along with libraries, movie theaters, and every other place desperate parents could take their children on a rainy Saturday.

Theirs had been luckier than most. An endowment a few years prior, which had been earmarked but not mandated for an expansion had been used to keep the lights on and the staff fed - literally. Their programming had gone virtual and understandably attendance had dropped but not entirely – thanks to a few local artists that had generously donated their time for a last minute plug.

Ever since restrictions had lifted, the crowds had returned somewhat. A rainy spring and summer had helped, but they were nowhere near their ‘pre-pandemic’ levels (and with the Delta variant on the rise she wasn’t super comfortable with the term ‘post-pandemic’ to describe their current state of affairs).

She wouldn’t say that today though.

No, today everything would be rosy – not just the botanical gardens that abutted the museum and had been started in 1853 – no, 1854.

Not that she imagined the potential donor would be fact checking her but nevertheless there was no room for error. She needed to represent the museum well. Her colleagues were counting on her – not to mention the collection itself depended on her.

The board had decided at its most recent meeting if they didn’t get an influx of donations within this quarter they were going to sell off a few pieces from the collection.

There was nothing sadder to a museum than deaccessioning. The staff all loved and protected the collection, and they truly felt the impact they and it had on the community. Myrcella loved to walk through the galleries on Thursday afternoons to see the regulars who’d come to visit the paintings like old friends of theirs, stopping by to say hello to a Baroque oil here or an Impressionist watercolor there.

So if schmoozing yet another prospective donor was what it took to mean that Mr. Poole’s favorite still-life stayed put for his bi-weekly Wednesday morning visit, then she would schmooze. She would schmooze Sansa Stark like her life depended on it.

She knew Sansa Stark sort of. It was the sort of thing where pre-pandemic they had run into each other at half a dozen events every year and always had a lovely chat and discussed getting together and then never did. The North was a small world and they ran in similar circles. But they weren’t friends.

Still, she was her best bet. From the wealthiest and most philanthropic family in the North, of course she was.

And she had to deliver.

The board had all made it clear that they expected results, and it had been suggested that really Myrcella Baratheon shouldn’t have such a hard time finding donors. But all her usual suspects had come to her with their own sob stories full of please tell me you won’t shut your doors but without any promise of relief, and the people she knew down south – the sort that profited from the world being in such dire straits had no interest in a little regional museum. No matter how much she marketed it as a hidden jewel.

To them, there was little worth in a jewel hidden, and they had no interest in having their act of charity buried under the northern snows.

So Sansa Stark was it.

She smoothed her dress, chosen carefully for the occasion. Sansa was always impeccably dressed and favored ladylike, tailored dresses for daytime, just as Myrcella did. Today, which had turned out to be a gorgeous one, she’d chosen a pale blue scallop trim knit dress, her grandmother’s wristwatch her only accessory. Feminine but appropriate. More comfortable than the clingier dresses she only ever so occasionally wore when taking around a male potential benefactor.

“Good luck,” Gilly, their glum registrar said as she raised her wrist to her nose to make sure she could still smell the scented oil she’d spread there that morning.

“Thanks baby,” Myrcella sighed, “Lunch from that naughty salad place when I’m done? My treat?”

Gilly smiled at that, “My treat if you get her.”

“Oh, now the stakes are really high,” she teased and blew Gilly a kiss and walked through the halls.

She felt eyes on her as she went. It was a small, tight-knit team, and it made it all the harder every time she received a sheepish regret. If she couldn’t succeed, one of them might lose their job if the board couldn’t decide what to sell. Even if they could, depending on how long this lasted.

Game face, Baratheon.

She took a deep breath and then smiled for fifteen seconds. She let it drop, knowing that it would still be in her eyes when she walked outside and it felt a little more genuine when her heels clacked along the gorgeous marble floor.

Walking over to the security desk, the smile reappeared on her face.

“Morning Roddy,” she grinned.

“Good morning to you Miss Myrcella,” Rodrick greeted her, “You see the game last night?”

“You’ve known me for four years,” she noted, “When in all of that time have I ever seen the game?”

He chuckled, “There was that one time in 2018.”

“Oh no, I totally lied about that,” she assured him, shrugging, “I wanted you to think I was cool.” She then looked around the empty lobby, “No Miss Stark?”

He grimaced, “Not yet. Traffic is back though, folks still aren’t used to it.”

She nodded, picking at a non-existent thread on her dress and looked around. Her eyes narrowed in on something and she crossed the lobby and picked up a tiny scrap of paper, crumbling it in her hand and then walking back over and tossing it in the trash behind Roddy’s desk.

“I’ve been sitting here for two hours, didn’t see it,” he noted.

She smiled, “Well you’ve been doing less important things like making sure no one robs the place.”

He opened his mouth to say something to her but then his gaze was directed behind her, “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t open until 11 o’clock on Tuesdays.”

“I sort of have an appointment,” the man said.

She knew that voice. She’d heard it before. In a coat closet at Alys Karstark’s birthday party. At the next table over at a charity even in 2019. Deep, stubbornly Northern, as unyielding as Valyrian steel.

She felt her palms sweat and forced herself not to rub them on her dress, rubbing them together instead and then turning around with a bright smile.

“You’re not Sansa Stark,” she greeted him.

He grinned sheepishly, though she wasn’t sure this man had ever had occasion to be sheepish in his entire life, “Afraid not. Myrcella, right? We met at that thing – that um… save the…whatsits.”

She giggled, and she heard the sound echoing garishly on the marble, “I believe that evening we were saving the seals. Or the… tulips, maybe.”

His smile spread slowly across his face, a dimple marking its end like an exclamation point, “Well we did our part even if we can’t remember what it was, I’m Robb Stark.”

She liked that he introduced himself. He’d done so every time they’d met, as though he in no way expected her to remember him. Sansa had done it the first five or so. Must have been how they were raised.

On the other hand, she’d been raised to act as though someone was foolish for not knowing who she was, introducing herself had been something she’d had to learn when she moved north, like parallel parking and salting her stoop.

Her hand extended and his met it, taking hers in his larger one and shaking it firmly as he looked her in the eyes briefly and then her lips slightly longer before purposefully going back to her eyes, “Myrcella Baratheon, and I remember you, Mr. Stark.”

“Well if that were true you’d remember I prefer Robb,” he noted, releasing her hand.

She shrugged, leaning forward conspiratorially, “Old habits. Can I get you something to drink before we begin our tour?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he shook his head.

She nodded, “Well it’s beautiful out now, why don’t we start in the botanical gardens. There’s been a bumper crop this year, we recently had the Cerwyn wedding here, did you attend?”

He fell into step next to her and said, “No, I didn’t. I was meant to but they reduced it to just family.”

She nodded, “Right, seems to be happening quite a bit. Will you do the same for your wedding?”

He stopped walking briefly and before she could stop too he had started again, “No… uh, rather than reduce the guest list we decided not to have it at all. We called the engagement off in January.”

“I’m so sorry!” she internally stabbed herself in the throat, “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, “The nice thing about there not being any events over the past year is that the press didn’t really get wind of it.” Then stopped abruptly, “Not that… it’s not like that makes up for the past year or anything.”

She laughed, “Don’t worry, I know what you meant. I am sorry though, about your engagement.”

“As am I,” he agreed, “But it’s for the best. We parted as friends. Had we gotten married, I’m not sure we could have done so, so I’m grateful for that, and for her.”

A gentleman.

So many men played the part. Opening doors, buying flowers. So few of them realized that manners mattered very little when they were offered without grace.

“That’s lovely,” she noted, pleased for once not to have to lie.

It was a gorgeous day, a perfect seventy-nine degrees and clear blue skies. As though they’d understood the importance of the occasion, the Phlox stood proudly in battle formation and the scent of honeysuckle surrounded them.

“Sansa wanted me to apologize for missing your meeting,” Robb noted.

“I hope nothing’s the matter?” she asked.

A grin overtook his face, “No nothing at all. She’s in labor.”

She smiled, grabbing his forearm briefly. They both looked down at her hand on it and she pulled it back as gingerly as she could.

“That’s wonderful,” she told him, “Her second, right?”

He nodded, “A girl. And I’ve convinced her out of the name Corona.”

She chuckled, “Oh come now, you could call her Corrie for short.”

“And her parents idiots for long,” he noted. Then told her, “They weren’t really going to call her Corona.”

She smiled, “And here I was about to tip off the press…”

He smirked, “Narrow miss, then.” He looked around, “So. Flowers.”

“Not just flowers,” she pointed out, “We have a community garden to the left and down that lane local beekeepers keep their hives.”

“My mistake,” he allowed with a close-lipped smile.

That smile annoyed her. It was the same one she’d heard in the voice of every southern donor she’d called when they’d offered her good luck with her little country museum.

It was the smile someone gave her when she’d already lost.

“Perhaps we should go inside,” she noted, “I can show you our contemporary wing which we’ve recently devoted to elevating female and underrepresented artists. Or perhaps that’s a bit too avant-garde for you. Would you like to see our hall of armor and weaponry? I believe we have a few pieces that your ancestors left on one battlefield or another.”

“I’m sorry,” he noted, rubbing his jaw, “I told Sansa we should just cancel this meeting but she insisted.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark –“

“Robb,” he corrected her.

“No, I’m addressing Mr. Stark right now,” she argued, all of the frustration and helplessness of the past few months bubbling up inside of her, “May I ask what exactly it is about this that you find amusing? Is it the painting that we’re going to have to sell so that it can end up in someone’s climate controlled storage unit and never looked at again? Or is it the leaky roof? Perhaps the pay cut we asked all senior employees to take? Or how about the summer interns who had gone through a rigorous hiring process only to be told we couldn’t take them on at all? I certainly hope it’s not the seniors who used to come here for their Saturday afternoon watercolor classes which we had to cancel because we didn’t have anything to pay the instructor even though it would have been the perfect activity for them because it is outdoors and safe. Or maybe it’s the after-school programs you find so laughable…”

“I’m not laughing,” he pointed out. “But you’ll forgive me if I take your righteousness with a grain of salt.”

“I’m not sure that I will, actually,” she argued.

“No?” he asked, “Well let’s talk about those seniors? Don’t you think that funding is better spent ensuring they have free and safe access to the vaccination that can actually save their lives? Or what about those kids? Sure, the after-school program is great, but how about providing computers to allow them to do remote learning? Now I’m sorry if you have to lose one of a thousand paintings in this place, but if money can be better spent giving people what they really need then I’m sorry – sell the damn thing.”

That was hard to argue with.

But not impossible.

“So you’ve drained your coffers?” she asked.

There was only room for one of them on the moral high ground and she’d always enjoyed the view.

His cheeks had turned blotchy in anger but they paled now, “Excuse me?”

“Are you in the red?” she asked, “Declaring bankruptcy? Let’s not go that far - Taking out loans? Leveraging assets?”

His jaw clenched, revealing a muscle in his left cheek that might have been attractive if she wasn’t about to rip his head off.

“No,” he noted, “But my family’s company and my family have given an exceptional amount this year already.”

“Well,” she pointed out, “It has been an exceptional year already.”

“Are you always this haughty with potential donors?” he asked, stepping ever so slightly closer to her.

A flash in her mind of his hand ghosting across the back of her neck as he secured her coat over her shoulders. That smell.

“Never,” she admitted, stepping ever so slightly towards him, “But you’re not a potential donor, are you? And tell me, is it really because you don’t think it’s worthwhile or because it doesn’t sound worthwhile?”

His face contorted in anger, “You think we’re giving so that people will write songs about us? We want this country back on its feet. We want to return to normal and if we can’t do that, we want to make sure to give people as comfortable an existence until it reverts on its own. Tell me, Miss Baratheon, can you actually find fault in that?”

She shook her head, “No, I can’t.” He looked surprised and she shrugged, “It’s a flawless argument. Just an incomplete one. Giving an exceptional amount right now isn’t enough. You have to give until it hurts, because you can. It is wonderful, exceptional, heroic, to be doing all that you have done so far. But what comes next? What comes after? What happens when the dust settles? When things open? When we get things under control? What happens when people are ready to return to what was before and none of it is left because it wasn’t deemed essential. Because it’s just flowers and amateur beekeepers and pretty watercolors? I understand that we are not on the top of the list and we shouldn’t be. But we should be on the list. We need to do more than survive, Robb. There are things apart from us that we need to endure. Things we need to protect.”

His mouth twitched at that.

“I’m sorry to say I don’t have time to see the armor,” he told her.

She felt the defeat trickle through her veins slowly.

She held out her hand, “Thank you for letting me rant at you.”

He shook it once again, narrowing his eyes at her, “Something tells me you’ve still got some left in the tank. I’d quite like to hear it. Have dinner with me tonight and convince me.”

It was happening to all of her girlfriends. After a year in isolation, their ability to detect a creep from a mile away had withered. She hadn’t thought that hers had too. He’d seemed like one of the good ones.

She pulled her hand away, “That’s not the way I do business, Mr. Stark.”

His eyes widened in horror, “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t get to make these decisions.”

“You’re the CEO,” she pointed out.

“Yes I am but Sansa insisted on inserting a clause into her contract that she gets final say over any philanthropic decisions,” he sighed, “I literally am not even allowed to choose the location of a book drive.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, a tiny bit of hope bubbling inside of her, “So when you said you should have cancelled the meeting…”

“It’s because Sansa’s already decided that we will be giving a donation, she wanted to discuss the structure of it with you – you know whether you’d prefer a lump sum, or whether you want it in increments, if you wanted it to be public to inspire other donors or whether you wanted it to be private so that they couldn’t use it as an excuse not to give…” he waved his hand, “She’s better at the specifics and I’m sure she’ll be calling you in between contractions to fine tune them.”

She laughed, “Please tell her not to. A pledge is more than enough to take to my board, we can map out the nitty gritty whenever she or whomever will be replacing her in the interim has time.”

He nodded, “You’ll have them within the week.”

She was about to thank him but the words caught in her mouth, “So wait a second… did you just wind me up for the sake of it?”

He grinned, a chuckle present in his voice though it hadn’t yet broken, “I’d like to point out that it took very little to wind you up.”

She laughed, because he was right and admitted, “It’s been a tough year.”

He nodded, “For everyone. So, now that you know I have absolutely no control and can hold absolutely nothing over you… have dinner with me.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I enjoy arguing with you,” he told her, then grinned sheepishly, “And because I lied. Sansa told me that I could cancel the meeting and I insisted on coming because I wanted to see you. The bad thing about this year is that there were no events where I could have a chance of bumping into you…”

“Oh that’s the bad thing about this year?” she asked.

“Well,” he grinned, then did a scarily good impression of her, “Maybe it shouldn’t be at the top of the list, but it should be on the list.”

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella #fluff #prompt

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ts1989fanatic · 3 years

Text

Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and the media cycle that demands pain from our pop stars

Emma Clifton 08:30, Feb 16 2021

Britney Spears was robbed of her public image during the height of her fame. Taylor Swift was robbed of her music during the height of hers.

Why does our pop culture system seem so intent on punishing the very women who keep it afloat. Emma Clifton looks at a decade in young singers – and the variously terrible ways they get treated while in the public eye.

There was a theory floated on the podcast You’re Wrong About that ‘fame is abuse’ and you’d be hard pressed not to agree if you were one of the many people who saw the recent New York Times documentary Framing Britney Spears, and realised just how badly we as a society treated Britney Spears before, during, and after her rise to fame.

The paparazzi, the media, the comedians – and then the fans and look-i-loos who continued to buy all the magazines that ran headlines about what a train-wreck she was, when really she was just someone in her early twenties, trying to raise two children while being one of the most famous – and hounded – people on the planet.

The documentary discussed at length how we as a pop-culture obsessed society love to build up a talented, attractive young woman and then buy popcorn in preparation of when we can gleefully watch them tumble from grace.

(And it’s not just pop stars, of course; the resplendent rise and then the racist fall of Meghan Markle’s position in public opinion is one of the most recent examples we have of when good headlines go bad.)

When I was working at Creme magazine, between 2009 and 2012, our pages were over-flowing with talented young pop singers: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato, Rihanna, One Direction, Justin Bieber.

When you look back on the decade that has passed by since, time has not been kind to any of these people.

Either the showbiz demon took something from each of them – or they had to completely disappear from sight for years at a time in order to survive. Sometimes both.

There have been eating disorders, drug overdoses, rehab stints, broken marriages, abusive relationships, chronic illnesses. These kids – and they were kids – were so young when they started, they’re already on their fourth or fifth reinventions.

Most of them haven’t hit 30 yet.

And when you’re a female pop star, so many of these reinventions revolve around your sexuality.

Heck, when I was at Creme, Demi, Selena and Miley were part of the ‘purity ring’ club, where they all gushed about staying away from sex until marriage while their stylists dressed them in the tightest clothes possible.

The message from the marketing teams behind each of them was very clear: Sell sex, but don’t ever enjoy it.

This is the same battle Britney faced a decade previously – look like a Lolita, but make sure you never have sex with your long-term boyfriend because then you’ll be expected to cry about the shame of it on national television.

This was also the time of paparazzi trying to take up-skirt photos (exactly what it sounds like) of female actresses as soon as they turned 18; 18 – the age where you can legally have sex in America – was a big deal in pop culture.

There was a countdown for when the Olsen Twins turned 18. When Lindsay Lohan turned 18, Rolling Stone ran a breast-focused cover shoot with the headline: ‘Hot, ready and LEGAL’. And it was just fine! Totally accepted. These girls, they were always up for it, right?

And then we get to Taylor Swift.

Taylor is re-releasing Love Story, the song that made her famous, the song that I first heard in the shower (yes, I had a shower radio) when I was 20 and immediately started crying, because it hit me square in the middle of my pop culture diagram: love songs and references to Romeo and Juliet.

It’s from her second album, Fearless, which she wrote when she was aged 16-18 and which won her four Grammys, including Album of the Year. It’s also an album that no longer belongs to her and she can no longer perform, due to some millionaire f...wittery committed by her former manager. But we’ll get to that.

From 2008 onwards, Taylor became a big deal for her music and then, like it always does for women, her love life became the centre drama.

She never talked about a purity ring (thank God) and she sung pretty openly about sex from her third album onwards (Sparks Fly, an iconic song), plus she had the audacity to date a bunch of boys and look happy while doing so. Naturally, her punishment awaited.

To this day, she is still ridiculed about lyrics she wrote in her first couple of albums… songs she wrote herself when she was literally a teenager.

If I had had written an album when I was a teenager, it would have been about my crush who caught the bus, Kevin from The Backstreet Boys, worrying about my thighs, and, I don’t know, my cystic acne.

I’m just saying – we let powerful men get away with s... they pulled when they were young with the old line ‘boys will be boys! They were just kids!’; it just never seems that generosity is never extended to young women and their far more harmless explorations of teenage sexuality.

Because she had yet to have a public mental health crisis or rehab stint, it was clear that Taylor was never going to be the architect of her own media downfall.

Luckily, one was invented for her. After a long-lasting stoush with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, where absolutely no-one (including Taylor) came out looking good, Taylor suddenly because persona non grata in pop culture and the long-awaited comeuppance began.

And so, she disappeared – in a way that celebrities can do these days. (As a side note, can you imagine how different Britney Spears’ life might have been if she had been allowed to disappear for a couple of years?)

It was only when she released her documentary Miss Americana on Netflix that the public got what it had been craving the whole time – the dark side of Taylor Swift’s fame.

An eating disorder, a sexual assault that she ended up being sued for and, then, the poisoned cherry on top, losing the rights to all her past music thanks to her old manager.

Finally, our hunger for bad news had been satisfied. We had seen her scars and so we could allow her back into the spotlight again.

It’s been interesting watching the roll-out of new music from so many of these female artists during a pandemic: Selena, Demi, Miley, Ariana Grande are among the singers who have eschewed the normal long roll-out of publicity in order to release their own music, without much of the media fanfare that typically accompanies it.

Taylor herself released two albums, without any of the (slightly inane) games she normally includes in the lead-up. You can’t help but wonder that – stripped of their endless touring, performances and appearances, these female artists have found some freedom in being able to just get back to the actual work.

If a pop star releases an album in the middle of a pandemic and no-one is around to give a shit about any of the outfits she’s wearing, does it still count? Turns out, yes.

Following the betrayal of Britney, Taylor, Miley et al by the media, you can see the slow change to have total ownership of their voice these artists have taken.

Social media can be a devil for many reasons but it has overtaken journalists and publicists as the middle man when it comes to how these women get portrayed to the public. Beyoncé has been instrumental in this – it was she who first released an album overnight back in 2013; a move that came without warning and changed the entire industry forever.

She who stopped giving interviews almost entirely, choosing to use her own platforms to get her message and music across. As a result, she’s never been more powerful and she’s never been more private.

As an explicit ‘F... you’ to the powers-that-be who bought her music from under her, Taylor has announced she will be re-recording all of her old albums.

Stories about millionaires against millionaires rarely draw sympathy from a reader but it does highlight how little actually belongs to the artist at the end of the day.

They can have limited control over their image, their public appearances, their private life, their work and their songs. And these are the success stories – these are the people whose names we know.

You have to hope that anyone young and female entering the music business has their eyes very wide open as to just what can go wrong – and what can go wrong even when everything goes right.

The first album Taylor is re-releasing is Fearless, the album that is the most chock-a-block with fairy-tale imagery and glittery optimism.

She’s promised that the songs will be new interpretations on the old originals and that seems only fair.

You can’t help but think that those fairy-tale songs are going to sound a whole lot different being sung by a 31-year-old who’s been through the public wringer then they were as a wide-eyed 16-year-old, on the cusp of making her dreams come true.

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hollywoods-golden-age-imagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Guy Gisborne

(My gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I’m so sorry that it took so long!)

- You met Guy after you moved to Chicago. You were in need of a job and, after asking around, someone had pointed you in the direction of a few businesses that were in need of pretty female servers.

- Obviously, Guys place was included in this line up of shady businesses, and though his wasn’t the first one you’d visited, his was the only one to ...make an impression, so to speak.

- Prior to your arrival, Guy had refused to deal with any of his businesses hirings. Why would he? He had men to do that for him and he had better things to do than sit down with a bunch of dames.

- But boy oh boy, you walked through that door and his entire opinion of interviews was thrown out the window.

- One of his men stood up to take you into the interviewing room and Guy leapt up, patting the man back down into his seat and clearing the surprise from his face before he quickly interjected. He gave you a smile and an “of course, of course. Come along” as he lead you into his office.

- Once you were inside, he looked you up and down from all angles as you were distracted with taking a seat and placing your bag down. He was flirty from the start and a little ways into your interview, he made a comment along the lines of him not thinking you were right for the job.

- When you asked what he meant and if he didn’t think you were qualified, he was quick to explain himself, telling you “no, no, of course not” and that it was really the opposite, you were too qualified. He told you that “a dame like you should be on the silver screen, not wearing a silver skirt in some gambling joint”.

- You couldn’t help but smile at that although you held your ground, telling him that you were flattered but that you’d still like the job if he had no objections to it. He then asked “well, how about I go make some reservations and we’ll go have dinner and talk about it, eh?”. And because he’s handsome and charming in his own gruff way, you agree.

- So technically, you have your first date at a relatively upscale restaurant; he wanted to impress you so he pulled out all the stops. He asks you questions about yourself, steering things away from business to the point where there’s no question about the real reason you were invited to dinner; not that you were at all fooled from the beginning.

- As much as you’re enjoying his company, you still try to drive the conversation back to your job application. You subtly mentioned the upcoming bills for your new apartment and while it does little to shift his questioning it does manage to do something.

- Later, after he drives you home, he slips a wad of bills into your hand, insisting that you take it and telling you to meet him at his club at noon the next day, giving your hand a purposeful squeeze before you say goodbye for the night.

- Let me just say, you could rob Guy half blind and he wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing; nor even realize what you’re doing. He’s wrapped around your finger before you even start dating.

- So you get a job at Guys place where you wind up spending quite a bit of time not doing your job and more or less just being lead around by the man himself who finds any excuse to have you by his side.

- It’s a bit late one night that the two of you share your first kiss. He’d been stressing over some business related thing, you usually tried not to ask but judging from the extensive details he often told you, you figured it had something to do with Robbo.

- Feeling nice, you’d fixed a drink and brought it to his office, nervously knocking on the door and gently wiggling the glass in your hand with a small smile.

- The two of you talked, during which he got a little bit worked up and in an effort to help calm him, you’d placed a hand on his shoulder. He froze before a lightbulb went off over his head and he mellowed out instantly.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. So uh,” His hand found it’s way onto your waist. “How are things going? Chicago treatin’ you well?”

- The two of you flirt back and forth for a little while before he mentions how a pretty dame like you should be married by now; which prompts him to try to explain himself in fear of having just offended you.

- In an effort to shut him up and prove that he hadn’t insulted you, you pressed a kiss to his cheek with a smile; which did in fact succeed in shutting him up.

“What was that for?”

“For being cute.”

“Cute eh? What am I a puppy or something? Cute.” He teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry. For being charming. Oh and sweet, intelligent, handsome.” You tease him right back, leaning in close to him.

“Now that's better.” He grins before his gaze moves down to your lips.

- Before you even realize it, he’s leaned in and given you a swift peck on the lips. Once your brain actually processes the action, you smile and pull him down for a real kiss, one he gladly reciprocates.

- And just like that, you’d found yourself your perfect man, or should I say: perfect Guy.

- There’s quite a bit of Pda in your relationship, though he tries his hardest not to look too soft in front of anybody. He doesn’t need anyone questioning how tough he is; especially not while Robbo’s in Chicago.

- Regardless, he’s very proud that he snagged a dame like you and he likes to show you off, making it clear that you’re his girl whenever you’re out in public together.

- Constant touches. He’s always giving you little pats and rubs, usually on your hands or shoulders. He especially did it before the two of you started dating.

- You putting your hand on his face? Peak affection. It makes him smile every time.

- Handholding.

- Hugs from behind. Both of you give them to each other; usually when he’s in a grumpy mood.

- Cheek kisses.

- Goodbye kisses. He’ll usually put his hands on the sides of your face and either kiss you on the forehead or give you a soft kiss on the lips.

- Deep, passionate kisses.

- Slow, loving kisses. You make him weak and prove the duality of Guy.

- He loves pet names; both giving and receiving. He likes calling you things like honey, baby, and beautiful; and he adores whenever you call him anything sweet like that.

- Surprisingly enough; what with how soft he is with you, he isn’t a huge cuddler. When you stay the night, you’ll usually just sleep next to each other, maybe with your backs/hands touching or his arm slung over your stomach. He just likes knowing that you’re there next to him.

- Always sitting together. He routinely winds up leaning in even further no matter how close you are to him.

- Big birthdays and other important parties. He’s always arranging nice “little” get togethers for special occasions, usually making some sort of speech or announcement during them. You think his eagerness to do so is pretty cute.

- Getting spoiled. What can he say? He likes seeing his girl happy.

- Like I said before: you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. He runs around in circles for you and jumps to do whatever you ask when you give him the slightest bit of incentive; which is usually some sort of flirtation.

- He’ll occasionally try to be all tough and somewhat misogynistic with you; as in how most men at that time would “put their foot down” with their wives, but he almost always fails miserably. You quirk a brow at him and he’s immediately backpedaling and trying to soften up what he said.

- You’re a major soft spot. You can do no wrong on his eyes; regardless of what you do in fact do. He takes great offense whenever someone even insinuates that you’re in the wrong or have done something bad. Even when you confess that something is your fault, he’ll find a way to shift; at least, some of the blame.

- He likes people listening to him and asking questions, making him feel like the smartest one in the room, so he’ll definitely tell you about his work; just not the …dirtier parts of it.

- Listening to his stories in amusement. He just has a really endearing way of telling them.

- Getting surprise visits either at your home or your work; if you get a job somewhere else. He always drops by when he’s in the neighborhood.

- Visiting him at work; if you aren’t working for him.

- Spending nights cooped up in his office at the club, when you think he can afford to have a break; considering he can’t concentrate with you around.

- Lots of phone calls. Sometimes they’ll be telling you that he won’t be home until late that night, other times they’re telling you that he’s taking you out and to get yourself fixed up. They’re unpredictable in a fun way.

- When it comes to dates, you really just ask and receive. He’ll take you wherever you’d like as long as you butter him up enough.

- Going out to dinner.

- If he’s being completely honest, he much prefers staying in and “getting comfortable” with you; particularly after Robbo comes back and gains the public’s good graces.

- The first time you cooked him dinner, he nearly proposed right then and there. At first he asked “what’s all this” in confusion, wondering if he forgot about some sort of arrangement you had, and then he turned into this adorably flustered little boy once he realized that you just did it to do it. You got the railing of your life that night, honey.

- He’s not an incredibly traditional man but he does really like domesticity. The first time he really got a taste of it, his literal thought was “I could get used to this” and he still feels the exact same way.

- He watches you a lot; usually while imagining kissing you if he can’t right in that moment.

- Flattery. Sometimes he has ulterior motives, sometimes he doesn’t; you just never know with Guy.

- He likes being able to make you laugh. He takes great pride in being the one to have made you smile.

- He’s really not used to acting like a fine gentleman, but he does try his best to treat you the way you deserve. He’ll usually make jokes to distract from his cluelessness; even though you assure him that you really don't mind.

- He’s clueless but he tries. It’s really quite funny. If only you could see him, uncomfortably and awkwardly standing at a florist or card rack, trying to pick out the perfect one(s) for you. He can be pretty adorable sometimes.

- He can actually be pretty sweet and reassuring when he wants to be. Initially, he’ll be making a big fuss and trying to aggressively get answers out of people; trying to figure out what’s made you “so upset”, but then he’ll go to you and be as soft as can be.

- Trying to keep him from starting trouble when/where he shouldn’t. Sometimes, it really seems like you’d be better off running Chicago yourself.

- He almost always needs to feel like he has the upper hand. If you suggest one thing to make him happy or fix a problem of his, he always has to change it just a little bit to make himself feel like he’s the one in control.

- Giving him massages, particularly when you feel like he needs to calm down.

- Letting him rant to you. He can’t help it and you can handle it; it’s how you find out most of your information anyway.

- He’s a pretty jealous man but it’s fairly easy to brush him off/get him off your back. When he see’s you acting all familiar with another man, he’ll either interrupt and scare them off or wait until you’re finished and ask “what was that, huh?”.

- The two of you are sort of invested in a life of crime so yeah, he’s pretty protective of you. He knows how dangerous things can get around him and he doesn’t want to see his best girl hurt.

- You’re used to Guy and his usual behavior so the two of you don’t have a ton of fights. Whenever you do have a fight, he has a habit of either backpedaling and trying to clear things up before you get really angry with him, or tries to find a compromise while still pretending to act all tough and like he’s the one calling the shots.

- He usually tries to make things right either during or; soon, after the fight but he isn’t the best at smoothing things over so you’ll probably stay mad at him for a few more hours/days.

- He’ll be unable to concentrate whenever you ignore/avoid him and he’ll continue to stare at you until he finally gets fed up and gets you alone, giving you another apology and asking if you can go back to being his gal “now?”.

- He tells you that he loves you pretty often, he just refuses to admit that he says it as much as he does.

- He doesn’t talk about your future a lot but just know that he’s got his sights set on a pretty big one and he’d like for you to be by his side during it; which is probably a good thing since you’re the main reason he’s not dead yet.

#guy gisborne imagine #guy gisborne headcanons #guy gisborne imagines #guy gisborne headcanon #robin and the 7 hoods imagine #robin and the 7 hoods headcanons #robin and the 7 hoods imagines #robin and the 7 hoods headcanon #60s movie imagine #60s movie headcanons #60s movie headcanon #60s movie imagines

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duhragonball · 3 years

Text

Hellsing Ch. 70-76

I guess anything I say here is a spoiler, so yeah, this is “Heart of Dreams”, “Relics”, “Heart of Iron”, and the arc “Finest Hour”. Oh, and “Lunatic Dawn”. Gotta lotta ground to cover. Treacherous ground.

Not a whole lot to say about Anderson’s death. He tried to become a monster using one of the Holy Nails from the True Cross, and then Alucard defeated him anyway, once Seras gave him a little help and a reason to go on living. Alucard was pretty upset about Anderson’s demise, but Anderson says a few soothing words, and reminds him that Al only became a vampire because he couldn’t stand being a human, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense for him to cry now.

So yeah, as determined as Anderson was to kill Alucard, he’s a pretty good sport about losing this fight, and he seems to genuinely pity the man. He wonders how long Alucard will go on living with his regrets, and Al replies “Until my expansive future shatters my expansive past.” So, if we want to take that literally, I guess he’s trying to find redemption by being a good guy to make up for his years as a bad guy. Well, he’s been a vampire for 523 years, and a servant of Hellsing for 101 of those years, so I guess maybe he figures if he trucks along for another 321 years that’d balance the scales?

And maybe I’m finally starting to appreciate some of the complexities of Alucard’s character. The Team Four Star Abridged series spent some time on his desire for redemption, but I couldn’t tell if it was based on the original material or something they came up with for their own version. For instance, the Abridged!Alucard rejected the forgiveness offered by God himself, but later Anderson spoke of his desire for redemption and Alucard didn’t dispute that. It seemed contradictory to me at the time, but the manga does seem to support that. As Vlad Tepes, he refused to ask God for anything, preferring instead to fight and drive himself and his followers to the limits of endurance and decency as proof of their faith.

I find that idea heretical, because it suggests that a person can “earn” God’s favor, or God’s forgiveness, or a place in heaven. Arguably, Anderson tried to do the same thing, but I think he was coming more from a place of doing zealous deeds out of gratitude for the Lord’s grace, rather than trying to earn anything he didn’t already have.

The difference with Alucard is that he seemed to be really wrongheaded about his faith, trying to use violence to become a good person. Then it didn’t work, and he became a vampire, devoted entirely to his own selfish desires, and I guess he’s spent the 20th Century realizing that he’s back where he started, trying to fight his way to redemption, only now he has centuries of red in his ledger instead of mere decades.

Oh, anyway, while this is going on, Integra takes a sword and stands it upright so it looks like a cross to mark Anderson’s death. It’s like this quiet sign of respect. I’m not sure whose sword that is, but it looks like the one Alucard was using in his Dracula persona.

Anyway, fuck all that, because Walter finally shows up and stomps the ashes of Anderson just as everyone was having their final farewell with the guy. Rude.

Young Walter just looks kind of stupid to me. Why is he still wearing the monocle? He’s trying to be 14 and 69 at the same time and failing at both.

Seras asks what Millennium did to him, but Walter makes it clear that this isn’t some brainwashing trope. He’s doing this of his own free will.

He also doesn’t consider himself loyal to Millennium. They turned him into a vampire, but he’s doing this for himself, and he’s only cooperating with them because their goals are in alignment.

Yumiko Takagi tries to kill Walter for... Was she mad at him for stomping on Anderson’s remains? I mean, Alucard’s the one who actually killed Anderson, so shouldn’t she be mad at that guy?

It doesn’t matter, because Walt just slices her into pieces with his magic filaments. Now Heinkel Wolfe wants revenge, because she was her long-time partner in assassin stuff. The TFS Abridged series implied that they were lovers, too, which seemed authentic at the time, but I’m not sure there’s any confirmation to be found in the manga itself.

But before she can take the shot, the Captain shows up and shoots Heinkel in the face. Like, through one cheek and out the other, and the only thing saving her from serious injury was that she happened to have her mouth open at the time.

Side note: I caught myself referring to Heinkel as “him”, which frustrates me because I’ve known she was a woman for like five years now. When I first watched the OVA, I was confused, becuase I could tell it was a female voice actor, but maybe that just meant he was really young, like with Schrodinger. But the Hellsing Wiki set me straight, or so I thought. I didn’t think I’d still be making this mistake.

On the other hand, Yumiko sometimes looks a lot like Goemon from Lupin III, so her wearing a nun’s habit isn’t as heteronormative as it might seem. I’m getting off-track.

You’d think this would be leading up to some big double-team on the Hellsing group, now that the Iscariots are out of the picture, but the Captain’s only stopping Heinkel so Walter can have a clear shot at Alucard. That’s the sole reason Walter turned traitor, you see. He wants to fight Alucard and win, and for the last 55 years they’ve been on the same side.

But is that all it is? I never got to read or watch “Hellsing: The Dawn”, the prequel manga Kouta Hirano created after Hellsing. I’ve heard that it never got finished, but also an anime adaptation was released with the home video release of Hellsing Ultimate Episode VIII. All I really know about it was that there was this time where Alucard and Walter were fighting the Nazis, and the Captain showed up, and Alucard ran away because he didn’t think he could beat that dude. Presumably, he left Walter to fend for himself? But all three of them survived until 1999, so I’m not sure what the outcome of that was. I always wondered if Walter held a grudge over that. But maybe I’m reaching.

There’s also a suggestion of professional jealousy. Walter was a rockstar vampire hunter in his youth, but he’s been overshadowed by Alucard, who is--let’s face it-- a living legend. This would be doubly true in the 90′s, when Integra reawakened Alucard, and Walter having to step back even further from the spotlight. The only way for him to reclaim his former glory would be to challenge the greatest of all vampires and win. He’d go down in history as a traitor, but at least he’d be cemented as the absolute best.

Or... or, you can go with the TFS version, where Walter hints at his motives, only for Alucard to take the wind out of his sails and announce “because you wanna fuck me!” And I love that theory more than any other explanation, because it just brings everything together a lot more neatly. I guess you don’t need Walter to have had a crush on Alucard for 55 years, but it’s a lot more compelling than revenge or professional jealousy. Those things have weight, sure, but they work better as distractions, the things Walter might admit to because they hide the deeper reason that he can’t bring himself to say out loud.

And it’s not entirely rejected by the manga. Alucard remarks on how much more beautiful Walter looked in his old age, compared to this treasonous knockoff vampire look he’s sporting now. The last time he spoke this way, it was when he flirted with Queen Elizabeth II. The next time he does it, it’ll be with Sir Integra when she’s in her early 50′s.

Speaking of QE2, she’s safe and sound, because the Secret Service evacuated her to a fortified location in Dover before Millennium attacked. If things get really hairy, they’re prepared to send her to Canada, and if London can’t be secured, they’ll nuke the whole city, though the Queen is certain that Integra and Alucard will win the day. The vampires acting as Millennium agents outside of London are being contained and destroyed, so things seem to be getting under some semblance of control.

However, the Royal Order of Protestant Knights, also known as the “Round Table” is down to just three surviving members. Integra’s in London, but here we have Rob Walsh and Hugh Irons, reflecting on the death of their fellow Round Tabler, Penwood.

This whole scene struck me as a complete non sequitur when I first saw it in the anime. Walter’s betrayal seemed to sudden and poorly explained that it felt like the author was just winging it by this point, and now we have these two dudes struggling to provide some justification for the twist. But reading this manga in 2021, I find that it makes a lot more sense. We’ve already seen tons of Britons in rather lofty positions, all willing to sell out their principles for a chance to become a vampire. Walter is no different from any of them. It’s just more personal when he does it because we actually know the guy.

But as Walsh discusses the utter debacle of this Millennium invasion, he deduces what we’ve just learned back in London. There must have been a traitor in their ranks, because that’s the only way Millennium could have made it this far. I mean, they just flew a bunch of giant blimps full of rockets right into British airspace. That only worked because they had traitors sabotaging the U.K.’s defenses and communications, and Hellsing was especially vulnerable at the same time.

The only thing Walsh can’t figure out is who the traitor was, since it had to be someone at the Round Table, but they’re all dead now, except for Integra, Irons, and himself.

But Irons fills in the missing pieces. It doesn’t have to have been one of the Round Table’s members, but someone close to one of the members. Years ago, Irons warned Walter about Richard Hellsing. Irons knew that when Arthur died, Richard would try to make a play for the Hellsing estate. But when Irons’ fears came to pass, Walter wasn’t there. It’s like he wanted things to play out the way they did.

But why would Walter want events to play out that way? On her own, Integra had no choice but to unseal Alucard to defend herself, and she’s kept Alucard active ever since. And now, lo and behold, Walter reveals that he turned traitor just so he could take on Alucard. It’s like he arranged for all of this to happen years in advance. But how many years? Fifty-five, Irons wonders.

It’s never explicitly confirmed, but Irons’ reasoning makes too much sense to ignore. Earlier, the Major said that he decided back in ‘44 that Walter “Angel of Death” Dornez would have been a good “get” for his side. Now, Irons is suggesting that Walter might have agreed in the same year. So maybe Walter and the Major made a secret agreement even then. It’s possible that they might have done it later, but why not in 1944?

I mean, the whole backstory here is that Millennium is a continuation of a secret Nazi Vampire project that Walter and Alucard destroyed in 1944. Except they didn’t destroy it at all, which sure makes Walter and Al seem very bad at their jobs, unless Walter let them escape and covered it up.

Meanwhile, the Captain tosses a first aid kit to Heinkel, kind of like he’s saying that he doesn’t want to kill Heinkel, but he can’t let her interfere either. We’ll talk about the Captain later.

As for Alucard vs. Walter, Al wants to check with Integra before he goes through with it. He asks for orders, repeating his big speech from when he killed all those cops in Brazil. Yeah, Walter’s a traitor, but he’s been a close mentor and advisor to Integra for all these years. Does she really want Alucard to killerize his ass?

Yes, she does. If Walter stands against them, then he’s the enemy, and Integra has already ordered Alucard to destroy the enemy, no matter who (snif!) they may be. Integra doesn’t relish this command, but she refuses to compromise over sentimental feelings.

Man, fuck you, Walter.

Then the Major lands his airship near the battlefield and invites Integra to come aboard and fight all of his remaining guys. Alucard orders Seras to join her while he deals with Walter. I can appreciate Seras’ concern here, because the last time she watched Alucard fight alone, he took a flaming bayonet to the face. She probably doesn’t care for Integra and Alucard splitting up like this.

Before she goes, she thanks Walter for all of his support, which disarms Walter for just a moment. Man, fuck you, Walter. Seras is so nice and grateful and polite and cool and you just go right ahead with your 55-years-in-the-making Nazi Vampire Jilted Lover scheme. Fuck you, Walter. You don’t deserve to be in Seras’ life.

So the gals go on board the airship and Schrodinger’s there and Integra just shoots him right between the eyes without bothering to slow down. This is maybe my favorite Integra moment in this thing. I sort of wish Kouta Hirano had done a spin-off of Integra and Seras doing cool shit like this for 30 years.

Alucard taunts Walter with the fact that he no longer gets to be a part of Inegra or Seras’ lives anymore. It sounds kind of petty, but when you think about it, it’s a pretty sick burn. Walter may have been planning this for 55 years, but he still had to live that double life, and it’s not like he can just say he was faking it the entire time.

So they fight. Walter’s magic wire powers seem to be amplified, either because of his restored youth or maybe the boost offered by vampire powers, or maybe he’s always been this strong but now he no longer needs to hold back anymore. For instance, he can make mesh screens with his wires to deflect Alucard’s bullets. And when Alucard summons that dog creature he used to dispatch Luke Valentine....

... Walter just bisects it with a flick of the wrist. You really begin to see why he was “The Angel of Death” back in his heyday.

I never understood what this dog familiar was supposed to be. Walter refers to the Hound of the Baskervilles, but as far as I know that’s just a legend confined to the Sherlock Holmes novel of the same name. But apparently that concept was based upon “black dog” folklore of the same region. There’s a whole laundry list of “black dog” apparitions in Britain alone. Black Shuck, Padfoot, Hairy Jack, Bizarro Snoopy, and so on. So I’m not sure if Hirano is saying that Alucard was the source of these legends, or if they were all based on a single creature which Alucard eventually defeated and absorbed into himself.

Al tries to use the Jackal to kill Walter, but that’s kind of stupid, since Walter designed the gun in the first place. In the anime, I thought Walter somehow triggered a bomb he had planted inside it, but maybe he used his wires to make this happen. It doesn’t really matter, because we already saw that the Casull was useless against Walter’s defenses, and not because it had smaller ammunition.

Then Luke Valentine emerges from the black dog’s body. This part never made any sense to me, but I loved how the Major recognized him, but barely. “Oh yeah, it’s that guy from Volume 2! The guy with the brother.”

The doctor suggests that when the dog was killed, this allowed Luke to reassert himself from inside the dog. Something about a “control ratio”, whatever that is. Like, he was absorbed into the dog’s mass, but now that the dog is no longer conscious, he can think for himself again. Notably, only half of Luke actually makes it out . It’s like he’s half-Luke, half dead dog monster.

But before he can do anything else, Walter puts his wires into Luke and starts controlling him like a puppet, mostly so he can use the dog half to attack Alucard.

Alucard seems more impressed than threatened. Keep in mind, Walter was doing pretty damn well against him early on. You’ll notice Alucard’s missing his right arm along with one of his guns. This is better than Anderson managed to do. So why does Walter even need this Luke-dog puppet thing in the first place?

Well, it’s because Walter’s body is giving out on him. Earlier, when the Doctor was performing the procedure to turn Walter into a vampire, he spoke about how rushed the operation was. I mean, he had to finish the whole thing in one night, after all. And Walter’s a lot more powerful than Dandyman, whom the Doctor considered his finest artificial vampire work. So maybe Walter’s just too powerful for this, and he can’t sustain this form. The Luke-dog-thing is just to keep Alucard busy while he coughs up blood.

The Major sees this development, and likens Walter to a high stakes gambler who’s mortgaged everything for a single hand at a high stakes table. Walter’s risked everything just to tangle with Alucard, and it still isn’t enough.

Alucard does manage to finish off the dog-Luke thing, and this sets him up for Walter’s next attack, and then he goes to finish him off, so things seem to be going Walter’s way...

But Alucard used a decoy, disguising Luke’s severed torso as his own, all so he could sucker-punch Walter in the face. As it turns out, Walter’s physical breakdown is making him younger, which amuses Al to no end.

So Alucard follow suits and assumes the form he once used when they fought the Nazis in 1944. Yeah, say hello to “Girlycard”. I’m not sure why Alucard looked like a 14-year-old girl during World War II. I’ve heard this form described as a Japanese 14-year-old girl, and I can’t dispute it, but it also makes Girlycard seem even more random somehow.

I mean, I guess the idea here was for Walter and Alucard to be able to move inconspicuously through enemy territory. No one would suspect a couple of kids until it was too late. I’m imagining a similar scenario to the ones presented in “Cross Fire”. Heinkel and Yumi would play innocent bystanders, then whip out their guns and swords and go ham on the bad guys. Knowing Hirano’s style, maybe Girlycard and Young Walter operated the same way.

And this further supports the Walter-had-an-unrequited-crush-on-Alucard theory. He might have understood that Girlycard was a disguise. On an intellectual level he might have known, but maybe he still carried a torch, and told himself that there was some way that they could be together. Was he just in love with this disguise, or does he love the real thing? Alucard says that he told Walter the truth decades ago, and claims that this is the reason Walter turned traitor, so yeah, it sure feels like Walter couldn’t handle Alucard’s true nature, one way or another.

I mean, let’s assume that this isn’t just about Alucard not being a cute girl. Maybe Walter fell in love with Alucard in all his forms, whatever that means for his sexuality. The bigger issue is that Alucard’s a vampire, and he’s just fundamentally different from Walter, and maybe that was the problem all along. It’s interesting to think about, but the point here would be that there was some kind of problem, and Walter couldn’t let it go.

Meanwhile, Seras and Integra are busy looking like total BMFs. Just HBIC’s. What’s better than this? Two gals bein’ pals.

Hell yeah!

Bad ass!

The vampires on board this airship are happy to meet their doom, and Integra recalls what her father once told her about how vampires want to die on their own terms. Seras doesn’t get it, because if they want to die so badly, they could have just died in the war they were already in fifty-odd years ago.

So the Major gets on the PA system and explains to her that they want more than just a glorious death. They want bigger, better, more perfect battlefield, so as to make their deaths as meaningful as possible. That’s why I don’t understand that airship captain from a while back. Everyone else in Millennium seemed to understand that they weren’t necessarily fighting to win. Britain is prepared to nuke London if they have to, so it’s hard to imagine anyone in Millennium surviving past today, even if they won.

Anyway, as the Major explains all of this, the Captain appears before the gals. It looks like he’s here to stop them, or is he?

#2021hellsingliveblog #hellsing #alucard #seras victoria #walter c dornez #alexander anderson #heinkel wolfe #yumiko takagi #the major #the captain #warrant officer schrodinger #sir hugh irons #lt general rob walsh #luke valentine #really? luke valentine?

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malewifegrantaire · 3 years

Text

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

PART TWO: Guess who’s coming to dinner hang out for no apparent reason (as far as Grantaire can tell)?

Combeferre had inadvertently ruined the rest of Grantaire’s week. It wasn’t his fault, of course. He couldn’t be blamed for Grantaire’s Incredibly Bad Brain. But still, “I just know Enjolras and I know he likes you” is a very reckless phrase to pepper into a conversation with someone of Grantaire’s constitution. He could hardly fall asleep that night because the words I know he likes you were clanging too loudly against the bars of the jail cell he called a mind. He didn’t mind too much though. The clanging was because Enjolras liked him, which made all of the noise sound a bit like music.

Grantaire picked out an outfit for the party and laid it out like he was a little kid excited for a school trip. Embarrassed with himself, he threw the entire outfit into his clothing hamper so he wouldn’t have to look at it lying out on his dresser anymore. Which was obviously a mistake, because now the clothes were are wrinkled and they were touching his actually dirty clothes. Which meant now he had to do a half load of laundry on a weekday, which he really didn’t like doing.

As he folded his laundry, Grantaire felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Huh. It was from Combeferre. Odd.

hey, are u free? sorry lol i am bored and wanted to know if u wanna hang out ??

Very odd. Maybe the wrong number? Just to be safe, Grantaire texted back:

grantaire is folding laundry right now, like a responsible adult.

Two texts back:

very interesting use of third person..

i can help if u want! i love 2 fold things

So this was Grantaire’s life. He used to be young and wild, and now he’s the sort of person that makes plans with people who text him sentences like “i love 2 fold things.” He typed his response.

uh, sure? might get boring, but i’ll never say no to an extra set of hands.

About fifteen minutes later, Combeferre was inside of Grantaire’s apartment. “You got here fast.” Grantaire said.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Aren’t you always?”

Combeferre took in Grantaire’s apartment, which gave Grantaire such a wave of self-consciousness that he thought he might be sick. It was a fine apartment, kept clean mostly because Grantaire hardly spent any time in it. The ceilings were far too low for Combeferre.

“This is a really nice place.” Combeferre said. “Have you lived here long?”

“Five years, I think.” Grantaire said. “I think the landlord thought I’d have left by now, but, well. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s nice. Good windows. Not easy to come by.”

Grantaire laughed at that. “Hey, was there something you wanted to talk about? Or are you just here to admire my big beautiful windows?”

Combeferre looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, the latter, I guess.” he said. “I mean, just what I texted, I was bored, and I guess . . . I don’t know. I guess I thought we could just hang out?”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to be embarrassed. Of course. Combeferre is the sort of person who’s actually, you know, decent. He was just trying to be nice and Grantaire was accusing him of having an ulterior motive. Way to go. Grantaire cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for coming. Feel free to park wherever. I only did a half load of laundry so I’m finished folding, sorry. I know how much you love to fold.”

“I went through a very intense Marie Kondo phase.” Combeferre grinned. “Let me know if you ever need your closet to be reorganized.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Grantaire said. It was dawning on him that, being more of the roaming type than the nesting type, Grantaire almost never had people over his apartment, and therefore had very little hosting experience. So he did what he always did in situations like this - said what people say in movies and books and all that.

“Can I offer you a beverage of some kind? I’ve got . . . tap water. And orange juice. And maybe beer?”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Combeferre said kindly. Combeferre’s fridge was probably fully stocked with sparkling water in every flavor for guests to sip on, the bastard. He sat down in a little chair by the kitchenette. “What, what is it?” he asked, looking at Grantaire’s expression. “Why are you - what’s funny?”

“Everything is too small for you in here. It’s like shoving a Barbie doll into a Polly Pocket house.” Grantaire said with a laugh. Combeferre tucked his long legs a bit closer to himself.

“Well, Barbie is a good role model, so I’ll take that.”

“I think an averaged sized woman or two might disagree. Anyways, you’ve got impeccable timing.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre inquired.

“I mean that someone must have wanted us to hang out today. God, the Fates, some non-denominational arbiter of Destiny.” Grantaire was doing that thing he always did where he ended sentences in a way that begged the listener to ask him to explain himself. Why he chose to speak in these irritating circles? We will likely never know. Grantaire sure as hell didn’t.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s been said before.” was Grantaire’s reply. “What I mean to say is I’m literally never home. Not literally-literally, but, you know. This apartment is basically a glorified storage unit that I visit when there is absolutely nothing else to do. So the fact that you happened to be passing by on a laundry day...”

“... a work of divine intervention?” Combeferre finished.

“I’d go so far as to call it a miracle if I believed in that sort of thing.” Grantaire said.

Combeferre’s next question caught Grantaire off-guard somewhat. “So you’re an atheist, then?”

Grantaire had never actually seen a shrink, but he had the passing sensation of being sprawled out on some brown leather fainting sofa. Maybe that’s what this was, a psych eval. He’d get a message from the official Les Amis de l’ABC e-mail account later in the week saying “sorry, R, you’ve been deemed mentally unfit to be a part of this organization. We know the Musain is public property, but if you could avoid the premises during our scheduled meeting times we all think that’d be for the best.”

“Well, yeah, aren’t all of the lefties heathens nowadays? At least that’s what Twitter tells me.” he said. His paranoia would not rob him of his (debatable) sense of humor.

Combeferre just shrugged. “I guess if I had to call myself something I’d say I’m agnostic.”

“Huh!” Grantaire said, genuinely surprised. “A member of the ‘namby-pamby, mushy pap, weak-tea, weedy, pallid fence-sitter’ brigade, are we?”

Two things occurred to Combeferre at once: One, that Grantaire was quoting Richard Dawkins, and two, that Grantaire could not have been certain that Combeferre would recognize the quote when he said it. Grantaire was both the sort of person that committed Dawkins to memory and the sort that didn’t really care if someone mistook his references for a string of improvised insults. The more Grantaire spoke, the more Combeferre became aware of how little speaking they’d ever done.

“I guess I just think one can never be sure.” Combeferre said.

Grantaire thought now would be a good time for a subject change. “So, how is party planning going?” he asked.

Combeferre sighed. “It’s . . . it’s going.” he said. “Well, okay, I’m being dramatic. Courfeyrac is actually the one doing most of the planning. I just get weird about stuff like this. I want Enjolras to like everything, you know?”

“I don’t think Enjolras is capable of disliking anything you do.” Grantaire said in a way that to the untrained ear might sound like a veiled insult, but that Combeferre suspected was an attempt at genuine sincerity.

“Well, thanks.” Combeferre smiled gratefully. “I just want him to have a good time.”

“He will. It’s the rest of us you’ll have to work to entertain.”

“Well, Courfeyrac has a slew of party games he’s preparing. Oh, and, uh, Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it. By the way.” Combeferre said, which made Grantaire blush, which made Combeferre smile.

Grantaire hated that. Not just when Combeferre did it, when any of them did. Making faces or little comments, as if they were in on some big secret. It’s like they were proud of themselves for noticing Grantaire’s little crush, like they knew something funny or scandalous or cute. But they didn’t know anything, not really. Grantaire didn’t have a crush on Enjolras at all. It was more like a religion. Maybe he’d been too quick to brand himself an atheist earlier.

His annoyance with Combeferre soured the rest of their conversation. He became mean, curt, and downright humorless. This wasn’t at all fair, he knew. Grantaire probably annoyed Combeferre every third sentence (maybe every third word) and that had never stopped Combeferre from being his usual amiable self. There was another difference between the two: Grantaire lacked both grace and graciousness, and Combeferre, it seemed, never ran out of either.

“Well, I guess I should be leaving.” Combeferre said after a while, rising from the squat chair he was sitting in.

“I guess.”

“Uh, thank you for having me over. We should do this again some time. I had fun.” Combeferre lied.

Grantaire smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Yeah, why don’t we all do brunch some time? You can bring your friends, it’ll be a real party. Everyone can sit around admiring my huge windows. What a blast!”

Combeferre knew he was joking, but he couldn’t decipher the punchline. What would be so bad about having all of their friends over for brunch? Why did he say the word “friends” like that, all sardonic and italicized? Combeferre almost asked him, but instead he just shook his head and smiled.

“Okay. Well. Bye!”

Grantaire waved lazily. “See you around.”

Under normal circumstances, the phrase “Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it” would have found itself fluttering in the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. Instead, there was something else sitting in there. Something that felt a bit like failure, a bit like guilt, and - most surprising of all - a bit like affection.

This is precisely why he didn’t like having people over.

#LOL this was fun.#next up: the actual birthday thing!#ok tags time #grantaire #combeferre #les amis #les miserables #my fic #uhhhhh what else....#cw alcohol mention #it’s sort of blink and you miss it but you know #again it’s peripheral but might as well:#e/r #i’ll come back if i think of anything else

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northcarolinanative · 4 years

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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 - Pope Heyward

Description: After John B and Sarah are gone and Ward was able to get the gold off the Island Pope feels the most defeated he ever has. He’s losing control of his friendships, his family, and his life. He slips into the unhealthy habits of his best friend, JJ. Y/N doesn’t like the person he has become, but what can she even say to start to make it better. TW// Drug use

A/N: I had this idea out of nowhere when rewatching Outer banks recently. Pope is so complex to me and I had a hard time trying to encompass him in this, so any feedback that you have would be so so appreciated. I promise I am working on collision and request this is just a lil break because all my requests are JJ (not that I am complaining haha). As always my Requests/asks/messages are open :)

It had been a few solemn days since Ward Cameron had flown off with the gold and John B and Sarah’s disappearance. The two young teenager’s fates hung like an unsolved mystery heavy over the rest of the pogues. The conspiracies that each person had come up with circled everyone’s thoughts anytime a silence fell over the group. The group felt utterly defeated at the loss of their friend, their brother. They lost the gold to the same man that sealed the fate of John B, angering them even more.

“I don’t even understand why Ward needed that gold so bad!” JJ said kicking the logs in the fire. The logs fell creating a flash of flames. The group flinched slightly at the sudden heat, causing JJ to step back, falling into his respective camping chair. “He’s already rich as fuck anyway.” He scoffed. He pulled a joint from his pockets placing it between his fingers and lighting it. We were used to JJ getting high to deal with the thoughts that overtook his brain. JJ wasn’t JJ without ‘taking the edge off.’

What did surprise me was how Pope leaned forward, skillfully taking the lit joint from JJ’s hand. He leaned back in his chair, bringing it to his lips. He took a visibly large hit, only letting out a few shallow coughs. He closed his eyes letting the feeling wash over him. JJ reached to take it back from him, only for Pope to pull it away from him. Kie and I shared a worried glance with one another before looking back at the two boys on the other side of the fire.

“He’s just a greedy Kook. Rich people get richer, and we don’t. We aren’t the Camerons, we don’t get second chances. Ward robbed us of our one chance to make it rich.” Pope spoke, his voice coming out slow and his drawl becoming more prominent. He was on his fourth hit from JJ’s blunt, no longer flinching when he took a long drag. He finally offered the blunt back to JJ, who practically snatched it from his hand.

“I was trying to get you to relax bro, not hog my shit,” JJ mumbled. Pope just responded with a groan. I kept my eyes trained on the boy in front of me. He had been worrying me lately. He had to have a lot of emotions building up inside of him. He had expressed to us many times that growing up, he never really learned the proper way to deal with emotions. We all knew Heyward expected nothing but the best for Pope, pushing him to be the best version of himself that he could be. Somewhere along the way, I think Pope worked so hard that he lost part of who he was to his studies. All he wanted to do was making his parents proud. I think that is why the treasure hunt was so important for him. It was developmental for all of us, but it allowed Pope to have fun and open up to experiences outside of the textbook, to live the rebellious teenage life.

We were all quick to tell him to come with us, to stop worrying about the essay, the interview, or his dad. None of us thought about how that would affect him. He walked out of his scholarship interview, giving up his one-way ticket to a better life, just to help us. That is the kind of friend that Pope is. Since then it had been tearing the boy apart. He didn’t say much, but whenever Heyward had us packing orders at the shop I could hear the sly remarks made about how Pope had the opportunity for a better life, or how Heyward was angry that Pope let something so good slip from his fingers.

My heart hurt for the boy sitting in front of me. If that wasn’t enough he had to sit with the girl that he confessed his feelings to, only to have her push him away. Kie told me about the interaction almost as soon as it happened. Every time I would catch his eyes wandering to stop on her face, or he would follow in behind her, my stomach would drop. I would do anything for Pope, he knows that. After Kiara told me about their conversation at Tannyhill, I decided that I was going to push my feelings for Pope down to the pits of my brain and forget them, even though that hadn’t been happening lately.

I definitely did not have the best coping mechanisms for this, but JJ was always down to flirt with anyone. I started responding to JJ’s empty flirtatious remarks more often. They almost always caused the two of us and Kie to laugh, but Pope was always seemingly in another world. He was always one to have a witty one-liner or the perfect roast to knock JJ down a few pegs, but he was quiet now. His sense of humor fleeting the group.

“That’s…” Kie started, looking between the group, trying to see a reaction from Pope’s train of thought. “Dark.” she breathed.

Pope scoffed before promptly getting up from his spot by the fire and quickly walking toward the water’s edge. I looked at Kiara and JJ with a confused expression. She nodded her head in his direction signaling that I should follow. I knew that things between the two of them were tense, but every time Pope had gotten upset over the past few weeks my heart broke further and further. He was turning into a shell of himself from the overwhelming amount of rejection that he was feeling.

I found him, leaning against a tree at the edge of the woods, his head hung low, looking at the sharp rocks that formed the jetty. The closer I got the louder the water crashing to the rocks became, helping to drown out some of the loudest thoughts in my head. I approached the tall boy, bringing my hand up to his shoulder, beginning to rub it in a comforting manner.

He pulled his shoulder away from me with a shrug. He shook his head slightly, before looking away from me. It hurt like hell seeing him have this reaction to me simply trying to be there for him. I felt the tears prick my eyes, the events of the past few weeks coming back to fruition as I watched the broken boy in front of me. The moonlight was bouncing off his skin making him glow in the darkness of the moment.

I decided that being by the water was the only way that I would feel calm at this moment. Saltwater ran in all of our veins, the closer we were in proximity to the ocean making us feel more at home. I stepped out and onto the jetty. Looking back at Pope, trying to elicit anything that I could out of him. I held my hand out to him, urging him to follow me to the waves. As his hand slipped into mine, I pulled him further and further from the edge of the island. I felt a glimmer of hope in the way that he gripped my hand and the soft smile that graced his face as we clumsily made our way over the jagged, mismatched rocks.

We finally got the edge, finding a larger rock, suitable for the two of us to sit on. We sat on the rock, our arms and legs brushing against each other due to the limited space. Pope’s eyes were once again were trained on the water that flowed against the rocks underneath us. The silence was heavy for a while.

Pope finally starting to speak. “I’m sorry that I went off like that.” He sighed, leaning back onto his arms letting his head roll back with his eyes closed.

I didn’t respond immediately. I was distracted by the way that his demeanor had changed the anger that had held onto him moments ago was now replaced with sadness. The way that the solemn look on his face made me want nothing more than to melt into him. “You have every right to be upset, Pope,” I said reaching for his hand again. He let me pull it into my lap, holding it between the two of mine, my thumbs rubbing comforting lines, back and forth.

“It’s just so much. I don’t know how much I can handle. I am never enough.” He said. I felt his hand tense up as he lifted himself to sit up straight. “I have literally disappointed my father so much, he won’t even look me in the eye anymore Y/N. I gave up my one good shot to get outta here, at a better life, to help some damn treasure hunt!” He said the urgency in his voice. I was at a loss for words, not knowing what to say to help him feel better. “I gave up everything and it still wasn’t enough for the others. They want me to help them with research and give up my time, that I need to earn back my father’s respect, to go on another goose chase.” He said scoffing.

“Hey,” I said forcing him to look at me. “They,” I said nodding my head back toward the other two. “May not get it, but I do. I realize that you gave up everything for your idiot friends. Me included.” I said, finally getting him to crack a slight smile. “And for what it’s worth, I appreciate every single sacrifice that you made through the entire treasure hunt, and I’m sure that if John B was here, he would too,” I said nudging his shoulder.

He let out a slight laugh at the mention of John B. It was always a toss-up to see how we all would react to the mention of him and Sarah, sometimes it was a reminiscent chuckle, sometimes it was a few straggling tears. “Don’t sell yourself short. We would have never found that well without both our brains.” He said nudging my shoulder back. I was happy to see a little more of the Pope that I know, the Pope that I loved, peeking through all the emotions again.

I laughed with him shortly before continuing. “As for your dad, he wants what’s best for you and I don’t think he knows exactly how to show his love for you, so he does it through pushing you to be better because he wished he had someone like that,” I spoke, recounting the time Heyward has told us about his family. I spoke softly trying not to overstep my boundaries.

Pope nodded his head in response, taking in what I had just told him. “I’m glad that they always send you after me.”

I snapped my head to look at him, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. I met his deep brown eyes, filled with every emotion that he was feeling. Reading over my expression he became nervous about his statement. “I mean after everything with Kie, I just figured that they sent you.” He spoke in a low, uncertain voice, shrugging his shoulder, suddenly insecure in the moment.

“No, I always come because I want to. Last time you stormed off, I practically pushed JJ off the dock to get to you.” I said giggling at the memory of the overdramatic boy we were speaking of. It was Pope’s turn to return my statement with knitted eyebrows, as his eyes searched my face for the meaning of my words.

“After Kie…” He said, his voice shaky and low. No one really talked about Pope confessing his feelings for Kiara, we all pretended like it was a fever dream and did not happen. I heard him swallow before continuing,” rejected me.” He said with a sigh. “She said that she wanted something different?” He said, his word coated with confusion themselves. “I just felt like no one really wanted me around, or wanted who I was.” Silence fell over us as I gripped his hands tighter involuntarily, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. Every word he spoke about Kie tearing at my heart. “I don’t love her like that though, I don’t know why I did it.” My heart wanted to shatter for him, but I settled for picking up the pieces to hand to him to put back together. He spoke, regret now evident in his voice. “I don’t why I am doing any of this. I’m getting drunk and high, picking fights, like I’m JJ,” He sighed.

“I know we always said we wanted you to loosen up, this isn’t what I want” I laughed awkwardly trying to joke about the topic, but I meant every word that I said. “I want the old Pope back.” I felt him tense at my words.

Pope stood up, taking his hand out of mine and wiping the dirt off the back of his pants. “I don’t! It’s like my life went downhill after that interview and no one gives a shit! The old Pope was walked over by all these people and I am sick of it!” Pope said, his voice rising as the distress became evident. He started stepping over rocks to move back to the forest.

I quickly stood up, briefly contemplating the words that were about to come out of my mouth., I quickly swallowed my pride, not caring about the outcome. My heart was beating in my throat, making sure that the words had to claw their way out. “I care Pope! I have always cared! Probably more than just your best friend should!” I said. The tears started to prick at the corners of my eyes as the words left my mouth.

Pope stopped in his tracks, turning to face me, his eyes wide as he processed the words that I said. I grew bold in my actions, deciding that if I was going to put it out there that I had to put it all out there. “I’ve always been here Pope, I wished I could have made you seen it sooner before you fell for Kie, but for me,” I stopped closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, “It’s always been you. You’re little witty comments never fail to brighten my day, or how you effortlessly help me to do better at anything, even the way that we used to sit on John B’s dock in the middle of the night and have those deep ass conversations.” I said, feeling out of breath. “You’re it for me.” I managed to get out as my voice finally broke. I opened my eyes to see Pope, walking back towards me, His steps careful and calculated as he crossed the distance that had been created between us.

“You like me?” Pope stuttered out. His face was one of complete and utter shock.

I shook my head and scoffed. “You don’t have to act so surprisedly.” The tears were falling freely down my face, as I tried to look anywhere but the curious eyes if the boy in front of me. I moved my hand to try and wipe away the tears that were falling down my face, embarrassed of how emotional I had become.

I was stopped by Pope’s hand moving at the same time to cup the side of my face forcing me to look up at him. I felt my face contort to show the pain that I was feeling. His eyes flickered between the two of mine. I couldn’t help but melt into the touch of his hand, trying to savor the way that it felt to be in his grasp.

It took me a minute to comprehend what was happening, but the Pope’s lips were on mine. I felt myself sway backward from the feeling. Pope wrapped his arm around my back to keep me upright as I kissed him back at a feverish pace. I settled my arms on either side of his neck, holding the back of his head in one hand. I wanted to pull him impossibly close. The world around us felt like it was spinning into nothing until it was just the two of us in the middle. I could feel the emotions of the night being poured into the kiss, the anger, the regret, but most importantly the passion.

We finally had to pull away from one another in a need for air, but we stayed entangled together on the teetering top of a jetty rock. Pope leaned down once again resting his forehead against mine. The eye contact was so intimate that I felt like I could hear his thoughts.

“Just so we’re clear. I meant it when I said I know that I am not in love with Kiara. I just thought that after all this time you would never see me the way I saw you, so I tried to move on. It really blew up in my face though.” He said, a small chuckle leaving his lips. He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head. “You’re it for me too.”

My Masterlist:)

Tagging those who asked :) -- @kikifromtheblock @bedazzledbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @poguelifesurfshop

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