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fanficwriterontheofftime · 3 years

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Cruella Dating Headcannons

Summary: A few headcannons about dating Cruella, because there are definitely not enough fanfics with her on this tag.

(I do intend to publish more fanfics with her in the future, but this one will not be containing any smut.)

So first off, Cruella is definitely someone who doesn't fit the mould, and is proud of it. She spent almost her entire life as Estella, trying to blend in, and she has had enough of that kind of life.

She's also incredibly wealthy and glamorous. Running her own world-wide label is tiring enough; she doesn't need boring designers, too.

Cruella is more drawn to people who are flamboyant and aren't afraid to show it, or who are just naturally different and pay no mind to what anyone else thinks of them.

She's always on the look-out for someone who has a different idea for her to adapt; she knows a brilliant mind when she sees one.

So she will first have heard about you because of your line of work.

Queen's influence is incredibly strong in the higher classes, which means she can find anyone she wants. So if she wants to see you, she will see you.

When she first meets you, Cruella will instantly be intrigued. She finds you certainly amusing, and will offer you a deal to work for her within the first 10 minutes of your meeting.

You will think her incredibly arrogant, and she will think you incredibly fascinating.

Will 10/10 look into your background to find out more about you.

However, as you get to know her more, you will discover that she is a whole lot more of a person than just what she lets other people see.

And she will discover that you are...someone she wants to keep around for a while.

You'll get entangled with her beyond helping pretty soon, and, to her surprise, she doesn't mind.

However, as much as I love fluff, I can't pretend it will be too perfect. Cruella has some pretty serious trust issues; she is closed-off to people at most times. Her own Mother lied to her at such a young age, and she believed it for so long before suddenly having the truth slap her across the face.

So she doesn't know how to cope with all these feelings for you at first; how can she know you're not like everyone else?

How can she know you won't hurt her?

Artie, Jasper and Horace constantly tease her about you, but in the end it will be Jasper who suddenly understands why she's been so tense recently, why she's been lashing out, why she's been especially closed-off and extra...Cruella.

She's suddenly just like when she discovered the Baroness killed her Mother again; and once he finds out why, he won't make the same mistake of jumping to conclusions.

This time, he'll sit down with her while she's working into the night (again) with a pensive "Cruella".

And this time, she finds all of those feelings for you just...spilling out of her.

"It's okay to feel things, you know. And I guarantee that that person? They're probably head over heels for you, too."

She'll smile sadly and shake her head, but little does she know, you are

Finally, Cruella will begin to make advances

You start noticing her sending random, beautiful gowns to your door when you go to work

You also start to notice that they all perfectly match the ones that she wears to her own galas

If her necklace had a key on it

Yours will have a very specific lock design

If her dress had a specific color scheme, yours will have the exact same

If her purse is some very expensive and flashy brand

You best bet yours will be the same, or even more expensive

Then, she starts sending roses (in black and white, of course)

She never tells you, but these are all dropped off by Horace and Jasper in the dead of night for her

Then, she starts planning a ball

And you figure "Just another one, right?"

Only you notice something

This one is themed around romance

A coincedence?.....I think not.

At the ball itself, she'll request that you actually attend as a guest as well, instead of just on her staff.

And she will send you the exact outfit she wants you to wear; it's gorgeous, and made of sheer, feathery soft white fabric, with long flowy sleeves attached to the valentine neckline by a design that looks like flowers

Once you get there, the first thing you notice is Cruella is wearing the exact same thing, but in..black.

She will start the announcement for all the guests to listen:

"Hello, there, darlings. As many of you know me, I hardly think this is nessecary, but my name is Cruella. This is my ball, which I certainly hope you are enjoying."

Her gaze flits to you halfway through.

"However, unlike many of the events I throw, this one has a purpose more dear to me than anything else."

A small, mischevious smirk graces her lips.

"For the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And certainly the most brilliant." She winks. "Besides myself, of course."

The guests start to murmur; instead, you find your heart booming in your chest.

"(Y/N), love, won't you be a dear and come on up here for me?"

She will spend the rest of the ball practically attached to you.

And pretty soon, you see that she actually based several, if not all, of the event's features off of what she knew about you

The drinks are your favorite

The food is your favorite

The style is exactly how you like it

And you can't help but notice the small smile on her face now that she's proposed; that quite romantic glint in her eye whenever she looks at you.

And you find it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

#cruella x reader #cruella #cruella de vil #cruella de vil x reader #cruella de vil 2021 #cruella 2021 #cruella x reader headcannons #cruella x reader smut #fanfiwriterontheofftime

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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Dimitrescus x Maiden---- The End of Winter(s)

Requested here. (I don't always have time for requests but we all needed this one.)

First come the gunshots.

Then, a feeling of dread.

It is strange; You’ve had intruders enter the castle before, in the years you’ve been with the Dimitrescus. Some lasted seconds, others hours. There were one or two the daughters kept around for more than a day, just for the thrill of the chase.

It is not the first time you hear a gun go off in the estate. Your past also renders the sound familiar, nothing remarkable.

But.

You can’t shake off the nausea that accompanies it this time. Your chest constricts and your gut churns and you just know something has gone terribly wrong.

Your fears are confirmed when, minutes later, Bela stumbles in from the doorway, her usual grace and aura of certainty completely gone. She is shivering, shaking, chilled to the bone. The visible patches of her skin look grey and hardened into an almost diamond substance. Flies are breaking apart from her and falling, twitching, to the floor.

You immediately rush to her and she collapses forward in your embrace. Her chin knocks against your shoulder, cold as a block of ice.

“Bela, love, what happened?!” you ask, while leading her to the nearest fireplace. Of course, you know about their weakness.

But how does he?

She wraps her arms around your waist tight, almost too tight, like she’s on the verge of breaking apart –physically, mentally—and you’re the only anchor she’s got.

From the top of the staircase, you hear Alcina’s hurried steps. Another door snaps open in the far corner of the room and you see Cassandra materialize out of the swarm there, then rush over to you.

“I… I… This can’t be happening.” Bela whispers, gasping for breath.

You can only hold her more securely against you, running your fingers through her blonde hair. It seems to calm her somewhat. Both your ministrations and the warmth.

You and Alcina share a look of pure worry.

“I failed. Mother, I failed.” Bela practically sobs without facing the woman and your heart shatters into pieces. You’ve never seen her like this.

“Bela—” she tries to say, while Cassandra remains there like a statue, unable to process the scene.

“He shot the windows and now he knows.” Bela pulls slightly away from you to say. “That stupid man-thing has got Daniela!”

“I’m going. I’ll rip out his intestines and feed them to him.” Cassandra growls and it’s a dark, ominous sound.

Alcina grabs her arm before she can swarm off. “No. I won’t risk another one of you. I will deal with that vermin.” she says through clenched teeth. You can see the effort she puts into keeping her voice steady.

You want to reach for her, to comfort her, but Bela is in a worst state, battling her body’s reaction to the cold and her self-loathing for her failure, so you stay put.

“Stay with Eliza. Do not let him anywhere near her. I will get Daniela.” she orders her daughters, leaving them as your guards.

Cassandra walks over to you and takes your hand in hers, lacing your fingers together. With her free one, she rubs Bela’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’ve wanted to kill Daniela several times over the last century so I can safely say it just doesn’t work.” even as she tries to lighten the mood, though, you can see how tempted she is to disobey Alcina and go after Winters. Her grip keeps clenching and unclenching. “He won’t come near you, darling.” she promises you.

But then… the thought strikes you. What if you go near him?

After you put Bela to sleep, you tell Cassandra to wait a while with her and that you’ll be back.

You will be back. Just not without Daniela.

The more you think about it, the more sense it makes for you to go. You are only human, yes, but that is precisely what can give you an edge in this. You do not have a fatal weakness to the cold. You move much faster than Alcina.

And although you’ve tried hard to grow beyond your past, you always knew you were no better than what it made you.

You’ve killed dozens who had done nothing to you during your time in the military’s special forces. Why would you not plant a bullet in the head of someone who dared to harm your new family?

Duke recognizes the look in your eye when you ask to see his collection of rifles. You pick one to your liking and test its weight in your grip. So much for promising never to touch a gun again.

You run through corridors and rooms before you hear his voice.

“Shut up, witch! I’m getting Rose back!” he shouts at Daniela, coped up in the library where there’s only one entrance. You press against the wall and carefully peek through. She gives a weak giggle, chained in front of an open window as she is.

God, she must be suffering.

Still, her eye rapidly flits to you. You motion for her to drop down. And then-

You turn into the room, rifle blazing, the first bullets driven into his head and the rest of the clip emptied in his torso. Blood splatters everywhere with every pull of the trigger and for the first time in your life you do feel something as you kill another person. Pure satisfaction.

You leap over the crimson pool that is swelling around Winters’ corpse to free Daniela, who is laughing even though she’s basically an icicle, at this point.

When you pull her away from the cold she collapses into you, much like Bela did, only she can’t move her limbs enough to cling to you.

“Daniela?!!” You hear Alcina’s voice wrecked with anguish. “I will slice you to bits, you filthy man-thing!” she nearly screams as she approaches the library.

“Go wild, dear. He won’t put up much of a fight.” you reply, a brief smirk curling your lip. Daniela burrows deeper into your warmth with a faint laugh. Alcina is equal parts confused and fuming when she ducks under the doorway—

And sees the body of Ethan Winters laying in a pool of his own blood. Her claws detract. She stalks over to his corpse…

Then crushes his head under her heel.

You wince at the gut-churning, crunching sound, holding Daniela tighter, but part of you is deeply relieved it’s finally over despite the brutality. Can’t take any chances.

You almost lost them. You lower your head to Daniela’s neck as silent tears start to flow from your eyes.

“Baby, I’m.. fine…” the redhead croaks out, nudging you with her head.

Alcina kneels down beside you, more exhausted than you’ve ever seen her. She gathers you both into a hug, resting her head on top of yours. You stay there a long time.

“My beautiful girl. My love.” she whispers to Daniela and you. She’s too proud to say most of the things she wants, but you can see them in her expression and the tightness of her throat regardless.

“…I’m hungry.” Daniela complains once feeling returns to her frozen form.

“When are you not?” you tease.

“We’d have that man’s flesh for dinner… but I would never feed my daughters something so disgusting.” Alcina says.

She picks Daniela up in her arms like a baby and you do not look at the bloody mess behind you.

After dinner, the Dimitrescus and you are all sitting in a couch in front of the fireplace, making light conversation and basking in each other’s presence.

Alcina is delicately sipping wine while you’re leaned against her, with Daniela practically in your lap. Cassandra is beside her and none too happy to not touch as much of you, though she is keeping your hand on her thigh possessively. Bela is curled like a cat at your legs, her cheek on your knee.

“Can you not hog her like you’re here by yourself?” Cassandra growls at Daniela, who doesn’t even think to budge.

“I’m the one who almost died. Piss off.” Daniela’s lips brush against your neck as she speaks.

“Daughters.” Alcina chastises.

“How long are you going to play the ‘I almost died’ card for?” Cassandra asks irritably.

“As long as it works~” Daniela kisses your jawline several times.

“Bela, are you still sulking?” Cassandra nudges her with her foot.

“Leave me alone...” the eldest sister huffs.

And the answer to that is a resounding yes.

You know it will take time to be completely over this. You know right now they all need you, in different ways.

Bela has to climb out of the self-blaming pit she’s dug herself in –she always is too rough on herself—and your touch grounds her.

Cassandra wants you to please her hard and long in bed to blow off the steam of the past day or she won’t be able to rest at all.

Daniela won’t show it but she was petrified and she’s still scared. She needs your attention, needs you to drown her in kisses, until it all goes away.

Alcina almost lost her girls to that man. She hasn’t recovered from the shock but you can see the bone-deep gratitude and the sheer love in her eyes whenever they lock with yours. Her girls will get you first, but when it’s her time with you…

Well.

She’ll thank you in so many ways.

Ko-Fi

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfiction #fix it fic #everyone gets what they deserve #also Dani is the baby of the family and she needs extra protecting

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aquafaith · 3 years

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My lengthy, angry ACOSF rant review.

Spoilers, TW for mental, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.

I loved ACOTAR. I still love ACOTAR. I always will love ACOTAR. But every book afterwards made me give up more and more. ACOMAF romanticized an abusive relationship and assassinated characters for the author's convenience. ACOWAR was a bunch of boring and inconsequential death scares. ACOFAS was all-round dreadful. And each book kept shitting on and pushing away Lucien for no reason.

I'd like to preface this by saying I hated Nesta too. I hated the way she treated Feyre in ACOTAR especially, and I wasn't even too excited for this book because I wasn't that keen on Nesta as a character.

Nesta's POV and her backstory changed my perspective. It does not excuse her actions. All Nesta stans can hold these characters accountable for what they do - trauma is a reason, not an excuse. I, and many others, sided with Nesta because of the way she's treated by everyone else in this book. Also, if you're going to hate Nesta for not teaching Feyre how to read and letting her hunt at fourteen, (which I did, and are very valid things to hate), AT LEAST hold Elain accountable too.

This book. This fucking book.

Shall we start with the intervention? Feyre on her little power trip thinks that her boyfriend that hates Nesta and Nesta hates back, Nesta's ex-best friend, and her possible mate who she never talks to should be at this stupid fucking intervention??? Excuse me???

Remember in ACOMAF when Feyre wouldn't shut up about how rich Rhysand is? Feyre literally has four or five houses and is always talking about how much jewelry and lingerie she can afford because Rhysand is so rich??? Well, Nesta has a few shots. So you know what Feyre does? Humiliates Nesta at this "intervention", TEARS DOWN HER HOME, and forces her to go to the Illyrian training camp.

That was the god awful premise for this book.

Did you think Elain wasn't there because she was against the "intervention"? Nope! She was packing Nesta's belongings without permission.

Remember in ACOMAF when it's made a big fucking deal that locking up a traumatised woman is extremely damaging? Well, when Nesta decides she doesn't want to be in Illyria, Feyre locks her in the House of Wind. Nesta can't fly, so her only way of leaving is down the TEN THOUSAND STEPS, that Feyre KNOWS Nesta isn't capable of climbing.

Feyre's pregnant. In ACOFAS she randomly decided that she wanted a baby to remember Rhysand by if he dies. Which doesn't make any sense because they made that stupid fucking death pact in ACOWAR. It's just SJM superimposing her pregnancy onto her early 20's protagonist. Ignoring the fact that Feyre isn't ready for a baby and Rhysand CERTAINLY isn't, and with a war just ended and another looming and so much trauma and a DEATH PACT are all such horrible circumstances to bring a child into, Feyre is already pregnant. Remember when SJM made a big deal about Fae babies being so hard to conceive, and Feyre said in ACOFAS they wouldn't have to worry for a long time because it can take years to conceive your first Fae child? Well it's been no more than 3 or 4 months and Feyre's already pregnant. Yep.

Also the birth will kill her. Because of course it will. Rhysand KNEW this, and still agreed to try for a baby.

There's no solution. Abortions don't exist for some stupid reason, and a C section would apparently kill Feyre?

(Wasn't this book supposed to be about Nessian?)

In ACOWAR, Cassian was on the battlefield with his entrails around his knees. Someone had to literally hold his guts in for him, and he's fine, but you're telling me a C section would kill Feyre?

Don't worry, this is just setting up the AWFUL ending to this book.

ACOSF amounts to Nesta being gaslit into believing her abusers are right. Her friends and family slut shame her and shame her for her lifestyle constantly. Cassian says it took him decades to work through some of his trauma, and he tried to drink and fuck it away too, but suddenly when Nesta does so it's heinous? Nesta's barely twenty five and she's expected to cope better than these ancient immortals.

Hell, didn't SJM write ACOMAF? Nobody expected Feyre to pick herself up so quickly. The IC (excluding Rhysand) respected her boundaries for the most part and understood when it was grief, trauma, and turmoil that made her angry, sad, want to be left alone, etc. But that's all forgotten here.

Amren also compares Nesta to the people in, and says she belongs in, The Court of Nightmares. You know, the murderers, abusers and rapists? This innocent woman who had a few shots and a bit of sex is on par with them, apparently!

The sex scenes.

SJM is scared to say vagina so she says sex.

She says seed to mean semen.

Apparently the word cunt turns SJM on. I just found Cassian saying that kinda cringe because I'm Bri'ish so the word cunt really isn't a big deal.

Back to the baby killing Feyre, because this is definitely what we all wanted from this book as indicated by the change in covers and format and title... Rhysand decides not to tell Feyre. He tells her friends and family, and tells them not to tell her.

SJM loves sweeping Rhysand's abuse from the first book under the rug and claiming it's always about Feyre's choice... where is that here, MAAS? WHERE IS IT?

Anyway, when Nesta rightfully decides to tell Feyre (although it is kind of out of spite), Rhysand threatens to kill Nesta.

And I believed him. With the way he treats his """mAtE tHaT hE lOvEs sO mUcH""" and all the people he's mindlessly killed before, do you really think he wouldn't kill the person who gave Feyre an inch of autonomy?

So what does Cassian do? His lover who he cares deeply about and suspects is his mate has received a death threat from tHe mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lORd iN hIsToRy.

Cassian simply gets Nesta out of the court.

EXCUSE ME?

He doesn't breathe ONE word to Rhysand about this. This Illyrian WARRIOR who fought with his GUTS HANGING OUT didn't dare step up to the hIGh lOrD who he considers his brother and sparrs and fights with all the time?

Cassian literally does nothing.

Was it not Rhysand himself who said Mated males are dangerous? Can kill anyone who looks at their mate? Can be dangerous simply leaving the house? Rhys and Feyre both pull the Mate card to justify their bad actions on the other's behalf... and Cassian just tried to get Nesta out of the court?

Also, this High King bullshit.

I swear to fucking god, if SJM DARES to make this abusive, power-tripping, mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lOrD eVEr, husband-insert of hers hIgH kInG, I will fight her in the street.

My beloved Lucien is in this book. Only for him to be used and shat on.

I really liked it when he calmed Cassian down with just a look though. Yes please fox man.

Helion is also in this book. Nothing to do with Lucien.

Eris is also in this book. ERIS. Lucien's eldest brother. The same one who abused him for years, but according to SJM he's slightly better, because at least he didn't agree to kill Lucien's lover. He betrayed his daddy that one time, therefore Eris is good. Y'know, the same Eris who abused Mor? Left her laying on the Autumn Court border with a nail in her womb? Well SJM is going back on her own canon to redeem yet ANOTHER abusive male, while continuing to demonize Tamlin for things he only happened to do when SJM decided the villain from the first book was sexy.

Nesta and Cassian are Mates.

Remember when Mates were supposed to be a rare and sacred thing? Now SJM dishes them out like Oprah.

I don't want these characters to be mates. I want to see them slowly fall in love. But SJM is incapable of writing that so she forces them together with the mAtInG bOnD. That's literally the only basis for most of these relationships, Feysand especially.

The only relationship where the bond would make sense is between Helion and The Lady of Autumn. Who still isn't named. But I will die on the hill that they're mates, I can feel it between them.

I wanted someone to die in this book. I predicted that it would either be Helion or Tarquin, but Tarquin isn't even in this one.

And the ending.

SJM can't write a decent climax, so she kills both Feyre and Rhysand for the second time. Yep.

The baby is being born which stupidly kills Feyre, and thankfully takes Rhysand with them.

Nesta decides to save them. Bad choice. But she decides to save them! Because she's so powerful and she ATE THE CONTENTS OF THE CAULDRON and she's CONNECTED TO THE MOTHER.

Do you know what happens.

Nesta loses her powers.

NESTA.

LOSES.

HER.

POWERS.

The powers we've hardly seen, the powers that were briefly mentioned and used ONCE in ACOWAR, then we saw like two flashes of in this book? They're GONE now. GONE SO NESTA CAN SAVE HER ABUSIVE SISTER AND ABUSIVE HUSBAND WHO ABUSES THEM BOTH.

Nesta is just an Amren now. They both fought for their powers, and had to give them up to save people who didn't deserve it. Now they're anticlimactically trapped in powerless bodies.

Also, and I can't BELIEVE I didn't originally include this - do you know what else Nesta TRADED HER POWERS FOR?

Illyrian anatomy so she can carry Cassian's baby one day.

EXCUSE ME?

I am so fucking SICK TO DEATH of the narrative that every woman needs a man and children to be happy. SJM clearly loves this because she's literally only keeping Amren and Nesta alive now to be sex objects to their partners and nothing else seeing as their POWERS WERE RIPPED AWAY FROM THEM, and now NESTA TRADED THOSE POWERS TO HAVE A BABY SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WANTS? Nesta does NOT strike me as a motherly type. She's the wine aunt, she and Cassian are the couple that go on holiday a lot and and babysit their nieces and nephews, but nope. Nesta HAS to have children.

The Feysand baby is called Nyx. That's just so underwhelming, you go from these huge, multiple syllable names like Amarantha and Morrigan and Lucien to Nyx? I get it's supposed to be unique but it's not even meaningful. It's just more shit-flavoured icing on the hAHa nIgHt uWu cake. I prefer Renesmée.

Nesta is wrong somehow. She says she's sorry as she's saving them. FOR WHAT? For being a little rude to Feyre as all sisters are? And rightfully hating your sister's abuser?

Oh yeah, remember in ACOWAR when Nesta took care of a comatose, starving Elain for months? Elain is randomly okay now because she takes care of her mental health the stereotypical way of baking cakes, and not drinking and fucking, which she shames Netsa for.

Remember the slut shaming, demeaning comments that the whole iNnEr cIrClE made about Nesta? They all expect apologies from her. For some reason.

Nesta has done nothing wrong. She coped with her trauma and minded her business in her own ways, and she's expected to apologise to the people who control and emotionally abuse her.

Nothing that any of these characters did to Nesta is right. Nesta wasn't okay at the end, this wasn't Nesta's healing story. This is Nesta being shamed and degraded until she submits.

Oh I can't believe I forgot to write this in my first draft of this review, do you know how Nesta "overcomes" her grief about her Father's death and her conflicting feelings about him and his life and her guilt? When she visits his grave for the first time, she takes Nyx.

NYX.

She holds NYX up to the grave and talks about how it's his grandson.

GO AWAY YOU STUPID DEMON BABY THIS IS NOT YOUR BOOK.

Speaking of, it's revealed that Nesta was abused by her mother and grandmother in this book? Something we were all looking forward to is seeing more of the Archeron's mother seeing as Feyre was so young when she died, but... nope. She gets a few vague mentions, and this newly revealed abuse is entirely glossed over. Nesta was also actively groomed by an older man at 14. But SJM glosses over this because of course she does.

Finally, the bonus chapters.

My edition came with a bonus chapter from Feyre's POV. It was pointless and I hated it.

There's another bonus chapter from Azriel's POV. Once I'd finished this book, he was one of the few characters I still harboured a shred of respect for.

Then I read his bonus chapter.

This exists to purely objectify Elain.

Whether you ship Elain with Azriel, or Lucien, or neither, this chapter is disgusting. He thinks about her coming on his tounge, and other things simply just to please him.

He then dares to suggest that "the Cauldron picked wrong" in choosing Lucien as Elain's mate?

No Azriel, SJM picked RIGHT in not giving each Archeron sister a bAt bOy.

Rhysand does the only right thing he's ever done by telling Azriel to stay away from Elain, but then he has to ruin it by clarifying that it's only so they can manipulate and use Lucien more.

Oh, and Azriel wants to kill Lucien.

Need I remind you that Lucien respects Azriel? Lucien is another victim of the Night Court's needless, baseless torment, and Azriel is no exception.

Lucien stays well out of Elain's way because she makes it clear that she's not interested in a mate, but Azriel wants to kill him simply for being her mate.

Lucien has done nothing. And I mean literally NOTHING to warrant any of this treatment. From the bAt bOyS, from Feyre, from his family, from SJM, from the deluded part of this fandom that think he's done wrong. NOTHING.

All I liked about this book was the Lucien scenes (which is a given), ((although I hated the way everyone talks about him behind his back)), Nesta's relationship with the house, Emerie and Gwyn, the evidence that Gwynriel is endgame and subsequently Elucien, and the book love. Everything else was horrible. Oh, and Nesta hates Rhysand. I love that for her, because everyone else bows at his feet.

Oh yeah, when Nesta DARES suggest that Rhysand is an "arrogant, preening asshole" which I think is a compliment, Cassian can't take Rhys' cock out of his mouth for one second, and has to get mad at her for having an opinion. Don't even get me started on Azriel in that scene.

If each book after ACOTAR made me slowly give up, this book made me give up altogether. I cannot go on to support this victim-blaming, abuse-forgiving, misogynistic series. I've given up on SJM, and the only characters I care about anyone are Lucien, Nesta, Helion, and Tarquin. I'll continue to read this series to see if SJM redeems herself, but I'll be downloading them for free. I'm not giving this piece of shit any more of my money.

I hope we don't get the Lucien book. I don't want her to slaughter my fox in the way she slaughtered LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE.

Thanks for listening.

Edit: I put the review on Goodreads!

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti acowar #anti acofas #anti acosf #anti sjm #anti feysand #anti rhysand

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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where do i even begin

The focus in this episode is all over the place and also on none of the right things.

Let’s just start with the obvious: they didn’t even bother showing Alya's reaction to Marinette being Ladybug. We got nothing. Marinette revealing her identity to Alya is supposed to be a big deal, but the episode brushes it under the rug and even seems to lowkey blame Marinette for not telling Alya sooner, to the point where it outright lies and has Alya claim that Marinette’s secret was responsible for all of Alya’s Lady Wifi appearances.

It’s not like I’m surprised anymore when the show blames Marinette for like--anything, but the fact that this season seems to brag about its continuity by being on a firm timeline and then keeps going against continuity is really irritating.

And speaking of continuity, the Adrien pictures are back on the wall with absolutely no reason given. Narratively speaking, the show put them there so Alya would see them and think of bringing up Adrien to get Marinette to take a break, but the show can’t just do that if it wants to imply that it has continuity. Worse still is that this is the episode featuring “Charm Bug” (does her form have a name? I just call it Charm Bug and continue to do so), meaning that “Gang of Secrets” (where there were no Adrien pictures) has to take place before this and “Furious Fu” (where there are also no Adrien pictures) has to take place after.

At this point, they might as well just confirm that “destiny” is a real force and the ladybug miraculous is messing with Marinette’s room and twisting her emotions to make the love square endgame because--yeah, that’s all it is at this point.

The other thing is that Alya shoos Marinette away from her guardian duties so Marinette can go comfort Kagami (let’s be honest, the best part of the episode was Alya being like, “but what about Adrien?” and Marinette was basically like, “what about Adrien?”), which sounds great, but then it all goes back to Adrien, because of course it does.

Not only that, but the episode mocks Marinette for worrying about Kagami. Not only does Alya doubt Marinette’s concern, but Kagami isn’t at all affected by the break-up and isn’t even touched by Marinette’s worry.

The thing is, I get where Marinette’s coming from, because this is the Kagami who told Ladybug in “Heart Hunter” that she (Kagami) and Adrien were perfect for each other to the point where Kagami prioritized her potentially getting together with Adrien over her friendship with Marinette. Also keep in mind that Marinette is Kagami’s only friend, and it makes total sense that Marinette would expect Kagami to be devastated by the break-up.

But because it’s Miraculous, the show makes Marinette look like an idiot for being concerned for Kagami, as if saying, “Silly Marinette! Kagami’s not like you! Kagami is a strong independent woman!! You’re just so over-emotional and you were ridiculous for being sad about your own break-up! You should be more like her!”

I also don’t like it because it presents Kagami as this character who really does feel nothing due to the show not letting her. She was angry at Adrien, obviously, but she was also immensely upset and it made sense when she put so much effort in trying to get him to return her affections.

Buuuut no. Kagami is just annoyed by Marinette’s efforts to try and get her back together with Adrien (it’s not that her anger isn’t warranted, but that’s all they let her feel instead of any genuine sadness over the break-up).

And of course, there’s no mention about Marinette literally trying to help get Kagami back together with Adrien and how selfless that is on Marinette’s part. Obviously I don’t agree with Marinette disregarding Kagami’s feelings (I do hate though how the episode refused to have Kagami explain why Adrien upset her, which would help Marinette understand because she seems to think there’s a misunderstanding/Kagami doubting herself), but the episode refuses to acknowledge Marinette’s good intentions because it’s Marinette and because she’s supporting Adrimi and not the love square, so they’ll make her look as bad as possible. This led to the fandom talking about Marinette and her oBsEsSiOn with Adrien instead of saying UM HI YEAH MARINETTE IS DOING A “HEART HUNTER” 2.0??

(The show also does this consistently, by the way.)

Another thing the show won’t acknowledge is that what Marinette does with Kagami is extremely similar to what Alya does with Marinette. Alya has ignored Marinette’s agency, physically pushed her towards Adrien, and locked her in a room with Adrien no matter how many times Marinette has told her no and that she doesn’t want that.

But because it’s Marinette and because what she’s shipping is Adrimi (i.e: a ship that interferes with the love square), the episode absolutely tears her apart for it. If Alya’s meddling was treated the same way - where she’d be constantly put in the wrong and punished for it - I wouldn’t say a word about this, but we know that’s not the case from “Reflekdoll” (where Reflekta targeted Marinette and Rose of all people) and “The Puppeteer 2″ (hey, remember when Alya did all of that and then it was the museum staff who did nothing wrong who got the worst of Puppeteer’s wrath?).

And this isn’t even taking into consideration that, once again, Marinette has learned something from someone else because they were never called out or punished or learned (originally being Adrien/Bustier where she “learned” to trust Chloe and see where that got her???), and then she’s the one who gets the heat for it.

Might I also add how insulting it is that the episode before this had Marinette saying that she “didn’t want to focus on love,” and then immediately afterwards, Alya is pushing for Adrienette and the episode itself won’t let anyone shut up about Adrien?

Like, this is the episode where Marinette does guardian stuff, gets an upgrade in Charm Bug, and yet the episode hyperfocuses on Aaaaaadrien. He doesn’t even do anything; he’s just a black hole that inhales all available attention and magically pulls all the characters towards his general location.

Then the episode keeps breaking its own continuity as an excuse to make things more about Adrien and also more about the love square, like saying that Marinette carries her disguises everywhere when it’s really just an excuse for Marinette to conveniently have the umbrella so that they can recreate the umbrella scene (by the way, the line from Marinette about “recreating Kagami’s moment where she fell in love with Adrien” is both incredibly forced and incredibly obvious because we’ve never even seen how Kagami fell for Adrien).

And when you already know how the show goes, it all becomes so predictable, which is a huge problem. By the time you hear Marinette say that she “didn’t want to focus on love” last episode, you already know what’s going happen. This episode reaffirms Marinette’s crush on Adrien, which is weird because it’s not as if there was ever any doubt in the first place? The show didn’t even try to convince its audience that Marinette was actually trying to move on, which gives the scene no impact when it happens. We already know that Marinette isn’t really in denial (she’s not stupid) and is very likely saying that she’s not in love with Adrien because admitting it hasn’t gotten her anywhere and she’s repeating something to herself is an attempt to make it true (which is a common coping mechanism for people with self-esteem issues/anxiety), so the scene is just for shipping fuel.

We’ve seen future episodes that show that Marinette hasn’t made any actual progress, hence being another piece of evidence towards my theory that the show does it on purpose to get the Adrienette fans to freak out when anything happens even if it’s reversed in the end. It’s particularly frustrating because it denies Marinette of agency yet again, with her saying something and the show then going lol okay but what if--

It’s gross, and made more so by Kagami watching Marinette and Adrien from a distance and saying that they’re “made for each other.” I’ve talked many times before about how the show is too lazy to have actual chemistry between the love square so they’ll just have characters say that they’re meant to beeeeee, so I won’t go into that, but really, actually think about what Kagami’s saying here.

This is the guy that, in her eyes, abandoned her repeatedly on dates and lied in order to get away from her. She stated outright that Adrien had disappointed her to the point where all of her feelings for Adrien seemed to have completely disappeared and she didn’t even want to be friends with him anymore (at least for now).

Yet, the show had Kagami not only say that line, but told Marinette directly that Adrien was perfect for her. This means either one of two things, neither being good:

- the show intentionally had Marinette do all this so that Kagami would feel embarrassed for Adrien and thus fix all of Adrimi’s relationship problems without Adrien having to do any work to earn her trust back (notice how Adrien in this episode is an “extra good boy” this time around, probably even more than they usually try - keyword: try - to portray him)

- Kagami’s opinion on Adrien hasn’t changed at all and she’s essentially saying that Marinette belongs with this guy who has hurt Kagami, betrayed her trust, and will probably do the same to Marinette

And obviously the show doesn’t think about any of that. It just wants to push for the love square. The only reason there was any focus on Kagami at all was to have a reason to get Marinette to go to Kagami, for Kagami to get angry at Marinette because - as we all know - Marinette “has to mess up and learn in every episode,” so there’d be a reason to go to where Adrien was, and so Kagami could become the next local shipper for the love square.

Marinette didn’t even get to figure out the magical charms by herself; Rena Rouge gave her the answer. It was like the show saw her doing guardian work and shoved her out the door because the only thing she’s good for is being part of the love square. Alya gets seconds of time shown with her looking over the grimoire to figure out the trick, which makes the whole thing underwhelming and rushed when Rena comes up and tells Ladybug that it’s essentially “just been about her” the whole time, meaning it’s just the show yet again being like “see, Marinette? If you’d just figured this out bEfORe...” (note that the episode never tells Marinette that she’s unnecessarily guilting/blaming herself)

But yeah, despite the episode not giving Adrien anything to do, characters talk about him constantly, Marinette somehow doesn’t get the spotlight she needs despite getting a power-up form, and the episode feels the need to constantly railroad Marinette exactly where it wanted to go, not for her, but for the love square, which has always been about not her. It’s already bad when the episode itself is bad, but when it has so much to throw in and delivers on absolutely none of it, it just makes it all the more painful.

#category: salt #episode: Mr. Pigeon 72 #other: ml spoilers #other: ask and answer

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snazzyscarf · 2 years

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so i saw your post regarding ruby rose dismenbering a man and i need to ask... are you talking about Tyrian? the Serial-killer who's working with the evil witch who's trying to destroy the world? the guy who had only a few minutes before announced that he wanted to kidnap her and tried to kill her friends? And who had just poisoned her uncle with his tail, and thats why hed had cut his tail of? Like in kind of confused about your point because you made it sound like Tyrian was just some random dude she attacked for no reason and i want to engage in good faith here

You said you wanted to engage in good faith so I'm taking that at face value and using this to elaborate my point:

So I made that original post at around 3am when I was fed up enough with the show's ableism to share my own opinions on the part of the series that bothered me the most. So forgive me if the wording wasn't the most clear.

I am not here to argue on the morality of the characters. Tyrian is a bad guy; he's obviously evil and never in my post did I state otherwise. I figured we all knew that was a given, but I've quickly learned that unless something is clearly stated in bold letters, people will just make their own assumptions. This is my first time engaging with the rwby fandom so that's my bad. Ruby's actions in the situation were fine. It was self defense and perfectly understandable, I have no issue with that. My issue lies with the placement of her actions within the show and how the writers decided to treat them.

The scene where Tyrian gets his tail cut off happens in volume four. At this point in time, the main characters are split up because of the aftermath of the fall of beacon. One of the major parts of this aftermath is Yang getting her arm cut off. In the first half of the volume they spend a lot of time establishing how traumatic this was for her, and how she's coping with it. She struggles in coming to terms with how this change will affect the rest of her life. How well RT depicted this struggle is a topic for another day, but they tried. They established the idea that amputation is a serious thing that has lasting consequences and should be treated as such.

And then they go and cut Tyrian's tail off.

Here's where my issues come in: up until this point the show had conveyed the aforementioned tone toward disability. And that on its own was well and good. Then they introduce Tyrian, a character which you're not really supposed to like. He's violent, out for blood, and has a clear mission of harm. They then reveal that he's a faunus with a scorpion tail, and we're introduced to a new and dangerous fighting style. One episode later, and that faunus trait is severed from him. Afterwards? Not another mention of it, aside from Tyrian quietly getting a new prosthetic made in the background.

The main problem lies in the presentation of Yang's and Tyrian's events. We all remember how Yang lost her arm. This dramatic, cinematic shot that slows down time and replaces blood with glittering yellow lights. It's obviously a big deal. Then we have Tyrian losing his stinger: a harsh and violent shot, that makes sure to linger on how he writhes in pain before calling Ruby a bitch. It's very clear which one of these presentations gets the favoritism here. One is prettied up and artsy, and the other is cruel and unforgiving.

Viewing these two framings of limb loss in juxtaposition--especially considering their close proximity time wise--sends a very clear message. Only the good guys get their disabilities treated with dignity. "If you're one of the protagonists, of course you deserve to have your disability respected! But if you're an antagonist, we have free reign to be as insensitive with the topic as we want, because, well, it doesn't matter when it comes to you does it? We get to pick and choose when we want to handle serious topics with tact."

My issue was never with Ruby as a character defending herself. It was with the writer's respectful establishment of Yang's character arc regarding disability, and how immediately throwing that respect out of the window with Tyrian felt like a slap in the face.

#ask #jr4cats #rwby #rwde #rwby criticism #rwby critical #tyrian callows

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

And life will always be la vie en rose

Mark Lee x reader // FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT

Themes: long distance relationship, established relationship, very domestic

Word count: 4k

Summary: The city of love with the person you love. Mark surprises you in Paris but the vacation was not going as expected.

Warnings: phone sex, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol, drunk mark lee hehe

A/N: Inspired by Emily in Paris and Mark’s TVN short drama. requested by @mellowvoidexpertfriend sorry it took me awhile :( and I hope this makes you happy. Thank you for requesting it! I wanted to give it a sad ending but figured you might hate me if I do that.

Its been almost seven months since you moved to Paris for work and leave the life you’ve always been used to. Your family, friends, your boyfriend Mark, all of them knew that moving to the city of love for your career is a big step.

Although some of them did not agree with your decision that you’re choosing your career, at least you have your boyfriend’s support no matter what. Mark has been with you since you were just starting at your job, he’s always supportive and caring even though he has his own career to take care of. Long distance is hard, but there’s nothing Mark wouldn’t do for you.

“Good morning, Paris” he greets you with a bright smile, the perfect afternoon light hits his face perfectly. You miss seeing that glow in person.

“Good afternoon, Seoul “ you answered with a raspy tone. Still sleepy but happy to see Mark, even if it’s from your phone screen.

“Tired? I miss you” he says, smiling sweetly through the screen. He was still in bed, comfortably laid with his thick blue sheets and striped fluffy pillows.

“Yes. I have a lot of stuff to do in the office today. But I still got time, no need to rush this call” you stretched in bed.

“Want to have phone sex?” He was hesitating to ask you but Mark was really horny in the middle of a hot afternoon. Good thing mornings make you horny like crazy too, so you said ‘yes’ and the next thing you know is you’re both naked in bed, phone on the bedside table with a perfect view of your naked body.

“Run a finger up and down your slit” he commands. You can hear soft grunts from Mark already, pumping his semi-hard cock on the screen. “Yes baby, you look hot” he moans and you smile at his compliment.

“Oh I miss touching your boobs, the next time I see you I’ll grip those so hard- ah” he was having a hard time talking because watching you touch yourself was always too good and too much for him. “So good baby, pinch your nipples for me” he added. You moan and with your free hand, you lick your fingers and rubbed it on your nipples and made sure to let him hear your soft moans.

“Fuck- that was hot” he was going a little too fast pumping his cock, the sound of it was turning you on, and how Mark bites his lips and rolls his head back, watch you with half-lidded eyes. You just smiled, knowing that he’s your man and only you can see him like this. “What’s that smile for? I love it when you smile like that” you giggle at what he said.

“Baby, I’m near” it was a high-pitched moan and you curl yourself a little, trying to stop yourself from cumming so fast.

“Okay-fuck, spread your legs- yeah just like that” you followed what he said and you see his lower abdomen go up and down a little too fast, obvious that he’s stopping himself from cumming before you do. “Remember how I fucked you during your last night here- Ahhh. You were begging me to stop but I couldn’t cause your pussy is so good”

“Fuck Mark” you were still moaning deliciously, trying not to close your legs for Mark. His eyes were fixed to your body, your lips that he misses so much, how you work wonders with your own fingers.

“Oh! I will, Y/n. I will- fuck—you”

You came first then Mark, you watch his thick cum land on his stomach. Watching him look so weak and sweaty but still handsome. He caught you looking at him while you were cleaning your fingers, he winked at you and smiled which made you shy for no reason.

“I love you. Can I talk to you for a couple more minutes?” he requests, holding his phone near his face after he cleaned his cum.

“I love you too. Of course. We can still talk while I’m in the shower” he nod his head in disbelief. And smiled oh so sweetly to you before he tells you about his morning and how he had a dream of you. He was promoted last month, so there’s not much work for him these days because he’s basically a boss now. To be honest you feel bad for not being with him to celebrate for his promotion, talking to him for as long as he likes is the least you can do for him. Sometimes you’re talking to him while you walk to your office, or having lunch alone, virtual dates, or letting him pick what lipstick suits you on a certain outfit.

For almost a year, it was the little things that make you both even more in love with each other and no one is complaining.

“Hey Y/n, the boss wants to see you with your presentation now” your assistant knocked on your door, holding it for you as you gather your laptop and pretend that you’re not nervous.

“What if she hates my ideas?” you asked your assistant, walking together slowly to the conference room.

“The dragon lady will love it, don’t overthink it” she pats your back good luck and opened the door for you.

During your presentation, your boss had this I’m-bored-can-we-go-home-now face and it was bothering you while you were talking in front. Nonetheless, you delivered every single detail perfectly and smoothly that the other members of the board were impressed, and you hope the dragon lady is too.

“Good. Make it happen. Are we done here? Give her the company credit card and I want updates every week. Dismissed”

That’s your cue to breathe. Finally, you can relax. You were smiling from ear to ear for a minute then you remember all the work that you have to finish. Making this project happen-making this fundraiser happen, will seriously impress your boss and the other members of the board. You can’t afford to fuck up.

Overworking doesn’t bother you at all, you don’t care if you’re the last one in the office and the first one to come the next day. You love your job and you value it. But to be honest, overworking is your coping mechanism. To stop thinking about home and Mark, just continue until you make it.

You got home and talked to Mark about the great news, of course, he’s very proud of you. Then you talked about the list of things that you have to work on for the project, and you wish you didn’t. Mark loves you, and that’s clear but he hates it when you overwork.

“Can’t you, make someone else do it?” easy for him to say because he’s a boss now.

“No, baby I can’t. This is my one way ticket to be the boss. If I make this happen, then okay, I’ll order everyone I see. But for now... sorry babe, it’s work for me” you said while unzipping your dress and moving around your room to change into some comfortable clothes. “Are you mad?” you asked, hoping he’s not.

“I can’t be mad at you, for loving what you do. I’m worried, that’s all”

After that call, Mark was dealing with some of his work as well and thinking about how he can rescue you from overworking. Well, he only had one effective solution. And that is to visit you in Paris and be with you so he can take care of you for a short time. He wasn’t going to visit until Christmas, but he couldn’t wait much longer.

He gave himself a week to think this all out and plan his surprise to you. He booked a flight, took two weeks off from work, and packed his bags.

You, on the other hand, is busy overworking tonight at the office. You feel heavy and exhausted, hungry but you just want to sleep when you finally get home, and Mark hasn’t messaged you like he normally does in almost two days. You feel awful, but Paris at night can quickly take away all youe exhaustion. Everywhere you look is beautiful.

As you force yourself not to feel tired on your way home, you saw a familiar figure who just got out of the taxi with a bunch of luggage. Am I dreaming? You slightly slap your face and walk slowly behind the man and wait for him to turn around.

When he did, you almost burst into tears.

It’s been seven months since you last saw Mark in the flesh.

“Hi, you look exactly like my girlfriend” he smiled and scrunched his nose, pull you into a hug, and kissed you in front of your apartment building. Paris is starting to feel like the city of love, finally.

You helped him with his bags up to your apartment, feeling so excited and happy that the tiredness that you’re feeling earlier was long gone. As soon as you reached your door and opened it, Mark put down the bags and crashed into your lips. Kissing you in the dark with only the light from your window.

“Oh, I’m never going to leave your side,” he said while hungrily kissing you. Removing your clothes one by one, making a trail of clothes until you reach your room, and pushed you on your bed. It’s been seven months since you last had sex with him and you’re sure that Mark will make you feel good tonight, as always. He may look innocent and cute always, but Mark knows how to fuck.

“We just have to be quiet tonight Mark- French neighbors. Don’t want to piss them with my moans” you warn him before his cold hand lands on your boobs, touch them softly and squeeze them tightly as he promised.

“Okay, let’s just keep our moans between us two” he kisses your lips as his way of saying, he’s going to start now. Kissing you down to your body until he reaches your pussy, to show that you're eager, you spread your legs widely for him and begged quietly. He used his pinky finger and slides it up and down your slit slowly. So slowly that it makes your legs shiver and your hips jolt, giving you goosebumps and making you sensitive already. He smiled at your reaction, happy that he has that effect on you.

“Wet” he murmurs and proceeds to kiss your pussy, like it was your lips. Feeling his hot tongue on your cunt, using it to fuck you. He spits on your cunt and let you feel it roll down your slit. It makes you sensitive and moans his name. He goes back in and licks you good, his hands run softly on your stomach, making you feel calm and confused. When he felt that you’re already on the edge, he watches you moan quietly, pinched your nipples, and did not released it until you’re shivering and shaking your legs uncontrollably.

You catch your breath until you see Mark above you, kissing your cheeks and reaching for your hands to intertwine it with his. “I just miss you, is it too much?” you shook your head with a smile and kissed your boyfriend back.

“My turn to give back,” you said weakly, but you’re already pushing him on the mattress. On your way to straddle the man you love and ride him good. You kissed him softly, grinding on his cock and spreading your juices on it. Brushing his nipples softly, which made him stop kissing you to let out a curse and tell you to don’t stop. It was too much for him but he likes it, overstimulating himself was his favorite and he drags you into that pleasure of his.

As you put his cock inside you, he grab holds on your wrist that he allows you to rest on his strong chest as you fuck him. Seeing you on top of him after for so long was toe-curling for him. The thought of it makes him blush, but also his view of your boobs in front of his face makes him smile too. He licks it once, “Oh- Baby, do that again?” you ask of him, he knew you would like it.

Your boobs are perfectly being sucked by Mark while you bounce up and down on him, rolling your hips at a steady pace. He lets go of your right nipple with a wet sound, feeling both of your nipples really swollen and sensitive. “Can’t hold on much longer baby, let me take over?” he was already on edge, you are too, but you let him take control and let him fuck you senseless that you were covering your mouth to stop yourself from moaning to loud.

“Bite me,” he said and you didn’t think twice, you bit his shoulder as you ride your high. He was cumming so hard too and his whimpers were muffled by the pillow behind you. You feel like he's going to crush your hand by gripping it so tightly and he feels like his shoulder is about to bleed.

It was a romantic night in the city of love. Both exhausted from sex but you two never kept quiet and talked to each other all through the night, watching the Eiffel Tower from your window, bodies covered with your thin sheets. You snuggle to Mark sniffing his armpit and making him giggle like a teenager, he tickles your legs and making you jolt and kick him a little too hard which made you both laugh so hard. You were away from each other for a long time, but your love stays the same and neither one of you is planning to ruin it.

The next day, Mark woke up with the smell of freshly cooked omelet and the zest of freshly squeezed orange juice. He looked at your clock on the bedside table, and it was almost lunchtime. He was quick to put on his glasses and find you, still naked because of last night’s intimacy but he doesn’t care. He feels home because you’re the first person he sees. Mark wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I was wondering where did my shirt go,” he says with a raspy voice. It’s obvious that he’s still sleepy but he wants to spend as much time with you.

“Still sleepy?” you turn around after turning the stove off, “And still naked with only your glasses, huh? You look like a nerdy porn star” you tease him, slap his ass, and made him wear at least his sweatpants and come eat breakfast with you.

“You don’t have work today?” he asks, chewing his omelet and drinking his juice.

“I have but, I call in sick for three days. Wouldn’t want to waste time” you said, smiling and winked at him. “You know, I know why you’re here. And I want you to know it’s working” he chuckled and scratched his head, busted he thought. “But I can only leave work for three days, after that I promise you I will do my best to still be with you, and not waste your time here-“ you were talking too fast, rambling that he didn’t have any choice but to stop you from talking.

“Understood, baby chill. I’m not here to sabotage your career, I’m here to take care of you”

In those three days, you and Mark enjoy Paris like a married couple enjoying their honeymoon. You’ve never enjoyed Paris like this, all thanks to Mark, the city became even more special and magical for you. You brought him to different French restaurants and made him eat a lot of good food and a lot of Watermelons, of course. You toured the city hand in hand, going to art galleries and taking countless pictures. The winery tour and your dinner date made Mark really drunk and it made him ten times even more funny. It was a struggle to bring him back to your apartment in his drunken state, but you love him too much that you even enjoyed his drunken company.

“I’m gonna ask you to marry me okay? Are you ready?” you help him step by step as you go up to your apartment, laughing so loud and disturbing your french neighbors, he was going on and on talking about marriage. “It’s true, check my pocket get the ring”

There's a huge part of you that secretly hopes that he’s telling the truth. Even if he’s proposing in his drunken state and couldn’t pop a knee, it’s okay. The staircase is still romantic for you and drunk or not, you love Mark with all your heart and soul. If Mark was telling the truth… you will say ‘yes’ and accept it will all your heart.

With all your bravery, you checked the pocket of his jacket and looked for a ring or a box. Honestly, you don’t know what you’re searching for. But there’s no ring. It made you disappointed but just laughed it all out and soothe his back because he’s about to throw up.

You reached your apartment, just in time for Mark to puke and curse every alcohol in the world. “Sorry if I’m a burden” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your toilet bowl while reaching for the flush.

“You’re never a burden. Feeling okay? Come on I’ll help you clean up” you kissed him on the forehead and left to get some clean clothes for him.

You spent the night taking care of Mark, enjoying how he hugs you so tight like he’s a child while he whines about how his head hurts. The night mostly consists of him whispering his apologies and never-ending I love you’s, while you still think about what he said earlier. Even if it didn’t happen tonight, the fact that he brought it up, finally, means that he was thinking of doing it someday. And that thought alone made you throw away your disappointment and hug him even more tightly.

Days go by and you juggle work and spending time with Mark and enjoy Paris. You feel bad letting him visit some great places alone or stay inside your apartment until you come home from work and go out finally. It was heartbreaking in many ways, but you didn’t have a choice.

On Mark’s first weekend in Paris, the first thing you did is wake him so early with loving kisses and go to the market with him. There, you and mark bought food for dinner tonight and promised you will cook for him. He was so in love with the city but had a hard time talking to French people.

“Wow, your French has improved” he praises you, “I read somewhere on the internet that the best way to learn the French language is in bed. Is there something I need to know, huh Baby?” he kissed your forehead to let you know that he’s only joking and completely well aware that cheating on him is beyond impossible.

“Fuck me in Korean then so I can learn it too” it made you both laugh, finding each other completely hilarious.

“Okay, I’ll fuck the Korean words out of you tonight”

The dinner you made was delicious, and it made Mark sad for a second because he realized he has to wait for a few months more to taste your cooking again. To light up the mood, you didn’t let him have a single alcohol tonight and made fun of his alcohol tolerance. And soon, after cleaning up from dinner, you two made love again.

He was balls inside you while you were making the pretties moans only for him to hear, he suddenly moaned Korean words which made you lost it and laughed so loud, your voices could be heard from your open window.

“Were you about to cum? I’m sorry, I just want to make you happy” he said, still inside you but not moving anymore.

“On edge, yeah. But I am, happy Mark. You came to Paris for me, even though I work my ass off while you’re still here. Oh, baby, I feel sorry.” You whine and nuzzle to the side of his sweaty face.

“Will you be happier if I ask you to marry me? Hmm?”

You were like a statue when you heard him talk about it again, and this time he’s sober. He kissed you back to reality, smiling nervously on top of you while waiting for your answer. “Hey” he kissed you again, giggling awkwardly.

“Of-of course I’ll be happy- are you proposing now?” you were stuttering and your hands were shaking as you reach for his face to cup it and kiss him. Tears in your eyes, pure happiness.

“While I'm still inside of you? No- I already have the ring, but with all that’s going on with your work right now. I just had to be sure, you want this. The last thing I want is to ruin our relationship and I’m sorry I had to say this to you while I’m still inside of you-“

You stopped him from rambling and talking too much, “Save it for breakfast. Now, continue fucking me in Korean” you both giggled again in no time. The night went on but it became, even more, sweeter for the both of you, more fucking in Korean happened and both of you slept like angels.

The morning after, you two made breakfast while trying so hard to keep your hands from each other. Obviously, the sweetness from last night hasn’t died yet. Marriage is not always a bed of roses, you’re aware of that, but you pray and pray that you and Mark stay the same like this for many years more.

“So that night at the stairs?” you asked him, taking a sip of from your coffee, eyes never leaving each other.

“I was serious but too drunk. I was going to talk about it with you that night, but…” you understand. Still, it made you happy. The morning was filled with laughter and kisses with Mark, talking more about marriage and the possibilities of having kids, shower sex, and him helping you prepare for work.

When you were just about to leave, “Oh! I almost forgot, fuck, Uhm- I need you to be my date tomorrow night. It’s the event that I’ve been working on, here” you hand him your credit card, “Sorry I can’t go with you. Buy yourself a nice suit okay? I’ll see you at dinner, I’ll be a little late, but I’ll make it to dinner” and again, you feel bad about treating him this way.

Mark is amazing in many ways, he bought a nice suit for your event tomorrow night and looked for a quiet french restaurant where he can propose to you properly. It was not hard, but talking to French people was not easy either. All he had in mind was, you deserved a romantic proposal.

Your most awaited day finally comes and everything is running smoothly. You haven’t seen Mark, because the dragon lady wanted you to get ready with her at the hotel where she was staying. “Have you seen Mark?” you asked your assistant, “I left him at the gallery. I told him you’ll meet him shortly”

After a few minutes of saying 'hi' 'hello' to the guests, you forgot that you were looking for your boyfriend and felt bad for doing that.

“Hey beautiful” he whispered behind you, and you almost spilled your champagne. You turned around and see the most handsome man on Earth, wearing a black and white suit with a slightly crooked bow tie. Your mind swims to the question, ‘will he be this handsome on your wedding day?’

“Wow- I’m speechless” is all you can say while admiring him like he's one of the paintings hanged on the wall.

“You look expensively beautiful” he greets you with a kiss and you fixed his bow tie, asking for a kiss again that he happily gave. You showed him around and introduced him to your friends, exchanged laughs for a minute then you're around working again, leaving him alone. He watches you do your job, even if he’s left alone most of the time. Nonetheless, the event was a success and you’re soon to be promoted, the dragon lady told you herself.

“Baby, I’m sorry”

“What for? You were great the whole night” he helps you unzip your beautiful Valentino dress.

“How many times did we talk tonight, I feel bad” you whine and helped him with his tie while you’re all exposed, wearing only your black lingerie. He played with the strap of your bra and proceeds to palm your ass. You did the same because he has a much nicer ass, he chuckled and kissed you to bed. Just like that, Mark turned everything around.

It’s his last day in Paris today, he leaves tomorrow morning. And you hate it. The bed feels, even more, warmer with him in it, you’re not ready to let go yet. “Don’t worry. We have forever to make the bed warm. Right?” he tries to cheer you up. “Don’t forget the dinner tonight okay?” he added.

Your day went on with Mark and you two spend more time together talking about life and everything under the sun, laughing while eating watermelons, until you had to leave again for the company dinner. It was supposed to be a night filled with Mark and Mark only but your boss decided to throw a dinner celebration for a successful event the other night, and you can’t miss it because she told you, ‘Show up tonight. Don’t piss me’. with a sly smirk that you oh so hate.

It was heartbreaking. You don’t know if the dragon lady knew that Mark was going to propose tonight or it’s just your life, ruining your perfect relationship with Mark. The dinner ended almost before midnight and you ran to the restaurant Mark told you not caring anymore if these Manolo pumps cost a fortune.

There, you saw Mark playing the piano while the restaurant staff was already cleaning up, fixing tables and chairs. It's been a while since the last time you saw him play an instrument, he knew you love it when he sings for you. You looked around the place and figured how he found a place like this in a country he's not familiar with. He was trying so hard during his whole stay, and you just watched and you let the people from work drain you until there’s nothing left for Mark.

He was still playing the piano sadly when you embraced him from behind, greeting him with a kiss. Feeling sorry for ruining the night he has planned for the two of you. He stopped and faked a smile, it was obvious and it pains you to see him like this. The space was quiet, and you notice that the staff were nice enough to give you two some privacy. He continued playing the piano and started singing the song his father used when he proposed to his mother.

You feel unworthy of his love.

Mark kissed you before he stands up, but all you wanted to do is say sorry over and over again. But you didn’t want to ruin the mood. You watch him bend on one knee, smiling shyly but you can say that he knows what he's doing. “Even if I already know the answer, and even if you become the busiest woman in Paris, marry me? Make me the happiest man alive?”

You were in tears, but you don’t know if it's made of happiness or sadness. There was a moment of silence that made him nervous and thought that maybe you changed your mind. It was making him nervous.

“Yes yes, of course”

Mark sighed in relief and let out a nervous laugh. He puts the ring on your finger and dried your tears before he kisses you. You see his sharp cheekbones appear from too much smiling and told you that his cheeks hurt.

That very moment made you realize that your job here in Paris and your boss, doesn’t deserve you. You can be amazing somewhere else, somewhere closer to Mark. In that way, you can be busy, yes, but you can come home to him every day and fuck in Korean the whole night.

#nct-writers #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #nct fluff #mark lee x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

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thetorchwoodarchive · 3 years

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Found family event masterpost

Thank you for all your submissions! Below the cut is the list of Torchwood fic recs focused on found family, as submitted by you, our followers!

we built a family (home) by myre ( JackIanto | Complete | 17844 | M )

When Jack gets back, things are different—he’s different—and he’s not sure where he fits anymore, but he should’ve known that there was a place reserved just for him.

Ianto Jones' thoughts on Life, Death, and Summer Squashes by Arnica ( JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 17762 | T )

The first thing he remembers afterward (and the rest of his life will always before and after Thames House now) is waking up to the sound of hospital machinery droning away, Gwen's head heavy on his legs as she drools on him with Rhys snoring away in the chair next to her, his hand spread wide across her back, head tipped back as he sleeps. Then there's Jack, sitting sideways in the window with his gun drawn and resting in his lap as he does something with the wrist straps in his hands.

Two of Us Are Hung From the Same Twisted Rope by ShastaFirecracker ( JackIanto, ToshOwen | Complete | 15799 | T )

An accident with some sort of brain-scanning alien device leaves Owen and Ianto sharing Ianto's body. Hijinks and nightmares ensue.

Does Africa Know a Song of Me? by etmuse ( JackIanto, MarthaTom, GwenRhys | Complete | 17618 | T )

Jack gets a call from UNIT. They need his help in Namibia. And when they arrive, Jack and Ianto (because Jack wouldn't leave him behind) discover the only communication they have with the team is letters.

Torchwood One Archive by james ( JackIanto | Complete | 11346 | M )

AU after season one. Jack has returned to Torchwood and to Ianto. Ianto is determined to make the best of it but he knows it won't last forever. Their time together threatens to get even shorter when the Doctor shows up unexpectedly.

In Bits and Pieces by reiley ( JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 83306 | M )

Sort of a fill-in-the-blanks story throughout the entire series: How they pull the pieces together after the world shatters, focusing mainly on Jack and Ianto, but all the others are there, too. Takes place between 'Exit Wounds' and 'The Stolen Earth', goes through all of series 1 and 2, and far back into the past.

Lost and Found by Kaneko ( JackIanto | Complete | 3642 | E )

Straddled over the rift, the Hub was a place where things were lost and found. Strange objects washed in like driftwood. Things went missing. There was never any sign of where they'd gone.

Personnel Issues by PinkFairy727 ( JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 41434 | T )

The Torchwood Three email newsletter: an excuse to gossip, bitch, plan dates, fight, and discuss squirrel rats. Co-authored with sparking_off.

Warnings: canon character death and swearing.

Just this once by Beleriandings ( JackIanto, ToshOwen, GwenRhys, LoisEsther | Complete | 239639 | T )

(Everybody lives.) (Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

Club Wales by pocky_slash ( Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | Complete | 19898 | T )

In the wake of Jack's disappearance, Gwen finds comfort in a new friendship with Ianto. Gossip, bonding, and other hijinks of understanding ensue.

Hell or High Water by aliciajazmin ( GwenJohnTosh | Complete | 3102 | T )

Toshiko, Gwen, and John have been married for a year now, beginning a life of adventure and crime (but only against those who deserve it). A mission going wrong results in the discovery of an orphan.

The three of them and the orphan must then decide what they want for their future.

A E I O Moo, I love Y O U by aliciajazmin ( GwenJackIantoRhys, GwenRhys, JackIanto | Complete | 627 | G )

Jack finds a new song to introduce to Anwen.

AKA Roses are red, violets are blue, Jack likes to sing: A E I O Moo.

Never Has He Ever by Jackdaw816 (JohnAndy | Complete | 1666 | T )

Hub lockdowns are great for juvenile drinking games and revelations of the self

Coping by innocent-until-proven-geeky (JackIanto, Gwen&Ianto, Gwen&Jack | Complete | 910 | G )

After the events of Exit Wounds, Jack, Ianto, and Gwen are exhausted.

Hug by innocent-until-proven-geeky ( Gwen&Ianto | Complete | 401 | G )

Not-wanting-to-let-go hugs.

March 31st in the Torchwood Family Household by innocent-until-proven-geeky ( JackIanto, GwenRhys, GwenJackIantoRhys | Complete | 117 | G )

Happy Trans Day of Visibility! Please enjoy this little ficlet of trans Torchwood polycule. In my headcanon, Ianto is a binary trans man using he/him pronouns, Jack is genderfluid using he/him pronouns, and Gwen is nonbinary using they/them pronouns with Torchwood and she/her pronouns in public.

Here For You (a friend's night out) by BookWerm ( Ianto&Tosh | Complete | 354 | T )

An answer to the prompt : “I’m their best friend” with Ianto and Gwen or Ianto and Tosh

The Lonely Cheryth by BookWerm ( Alice&Jack, Steven&Jack, Others | Complete | 6581 | G )

Steven's Uncle Jack is a mystery. One that he's determined to solve.

A fic through quite a bit of Steven's life (yes, he lives through Children of earth) that was quite a bit of fun

A Moment (An Eternity) by Clare_Hope ( JackIanto, ToshOwen, GwenRhys | WIP | 10923 | T )

Owen slid underneath the closing door just in time to escape the room about to be flooded with radioactive coolant. Tosh didn't die of her wounds because with Owen there, she got medical attention before it was too late. The entire Torchwood team made it through that terrible day. Everything should be alright now. But Jack is really, really not alright.

Below 20° Celsius by Clare_Hope ( JackIanto, Team | Complete | 5182 | T )

20° Celsius is generally considered to be the lowest a human's body temperature can be before dying. This is bad news for Jack, who is a bit colder than that when he's pulled out of Cardiff Bay after drowning continually for a couple hours. The good news is that he doesn't have to deal with it alone.

Work Friends by Clare_Hope (Ianto&Tosh | WIP | 3431 | T )

After everything that happened with Mary, Ianto is the only one who doesn't seem uncomfortable around Toshiko. She can't read his mind anymore, but pretty sure she knows what he's thinking: We've both seen someone we thought loved us killed by Jack. I understand. I might be the only one who understands.

Of Motion in Perpetuity by Beleriandings ( JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 106708 | M )

When Gwen, Jack and Ianto investigate a cold case from end of the nineteenth century, they find themselves pulled back in time against their will, fighting to protect each other and to get home.

Conditional Iteration by Beleriandings ( Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys | WIP | 35431 | T )

Gwen can only watch, helpless and raging and grieving, as Jack and Ianto die in Thames House. The next moment though, she finds herself pulled out of time, back to the moment it all started to go wrong. Maybe second chances aren't in quite such short supply as she thought.

Coffee Break by firesnap ( Gwen&Ianto | Complete | 2069 | G )

Gwen and Ianto steal a few minutes to chat and make plans.

Another Rainy Day by SerenityJane ( Team | Complete | 3088 | T )

Tosh darted the occasional look at the closed door, curiousity warring with courtesy. So was Gwen, but she looked more like someone was dangling sweets in front of her nose and telling her she couldn’t have them. No prize for guessing who the candy was. Owen was watching the girls, and desperately trying not to think of pink elephants.

The Right Kind of Doctor by joonscribble ( Owen&Team | Complete | 2008 | R )

Three times Owen Harper was good at his job. Set between season 1 and 2.

Stargazing and Truth-Telling by earlybloomingparentheses ( JackIanto | Complete | 4632 | T )

A month after the events of "Exit Wounds," Jack Harkness heads off to an unknown galaxy on a mission for UNIT, and Ianto and Gwen are left behind to stare up at the stars and wonder when he's coming back. As a small act of rebellion against Jack's perpetual mysteriousness, they decide to play a game: they have to answer each other's questions with absolute honesty. There's a lot Ianto needs to get off his chest, his feelings about Jack Harkness not least, but the truth is tricky--it's never safe, and it's certainly never easy.

ghosts in my head by Sholio ( Team | Complete | 2637 | T )

Owen doesn't sleep, but he does dream. And the dreams he gets are mostly nightmares, because of course they are.

Facing Light in the Flow by engagemythrusters ( JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 3821 | T )

A slice of a life nobody had dreamt they would ever have.

The Door Wide Open by sherlockpond ( GwenRhys, JackIanto, ToshOwen | Complete | 5333 | G )

Torchwood incurs a tough life on its field operatives. They deserve times where they feel like they need to be vulnerable in front of each other. [6 times the team were emotionally honest with one another - set during various points of S1 and S2]

Flatpacked by Beleriandings ( Ianto&Rhys, JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 6946 | G )

Rhys has a day off, and decides to spend it peacefully looking at homeware in Ikea. He's not expecting to bump into one of his wife's coworkers there; much less, a shapeshifting alien that likes to eat batteries. But then again, that's Torchwood for you.

On saving the world, and what happens after by Beleriandings ( Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto | Complete | 2447 | G )

After the events of Journey's End, Gwen and Ianto wait for Jack to come home.

Domestic Disharmony by thirteeninafez ( Gwen&Ianto, Gwen&Jack, GwenRhys, JackIanto | Complete | 3163 | G )

In which Jack and Gwen get stuck in the Archives and discuss green milk, thermostats and Ianto Jones.

After the events of Journey's End, Gwen and Ianto wait for Jack to come home.

Pastries, Avoidance Tactics, and a Bottle of Scotch by pocky_slash ( Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 6220 | G )

In which Gwen said something she regrets, Ianto makes a poor dinner choice, Rhys offers sound advice, and Jack has a key. A different sort of "Meat" post-ep.

Respite by Beleriandings ( Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | Complete | 2591 | G )

Even by their usual standards, Gwen thought it was absolutely fair to say it had been a rough week.

Blood on Steel by Sholio (Owen&Ianto, Gwen&Jack&Owen&Tosh&Ianto | Complete | 12257 | T)

An alien booby trap turns the Hub into a deathtrap. Lucky thing it doesn't react to someone with no vital signs. Now Owen is their only hope. More specifically, he's Ianto's only hope.

The Cartography of Feeling by Sholio (Owen&Ianto | Complete | 20846 | T)

"We're sodding gladiators," Owen said. "Fuck this entire day and Jack Harkness too."

(Or: Owen and Ianto are abducted by aliens and forced to arena-fight. But the worst part might be the control device that connects them in an emotion and pain-sharing bond.)

Haul Out the Holly by Flamingbluepanda (JackIanto, GwenRhys | Complete | 1069 | G)

Sometimes you need a little magic in your christmas

with a lil’ help from my friends by Flamingbluepanda (JackIanto, GwenRhys, OwenTosh | complete | 1307 | G)

Everyone needs a Hug sometimes, Torchwood Included

(Or, five times Jack thought about hugs and the one time he thought of nothing at all)

I’ll think of you each time I watch from distant skies by Violetmessages (JackIanto, GwenRhys, Jack&Team | complete | 3749 | T)

In which Tosh makes a discovery and the team comes together to show Jack how much they love him.

Halfway Back by Sholio (Gwen&Jack&Owen&Ianto&Tosh | complete | 13953 | T)

Team Torchwood run a sanctuary for magical creatures, and this time they've got a basilisk on their hands.

Team Means Pack by Sholio (Gwen&Jack&Owen&Ianto&Tosh | complete | 2615 | G)

Post-Countrycide in a universe with werewolves.

Stormwrack by Sholio (Gen | complete | 2111 | T)

The last time Owen was in the Brecon Beacons, Welsh cannibals tried to eat him. This time, it was pouring buckets on him, and he was dead. At least the latter might help with the cannibal problem, although given his luck, probably not. They might just consider him well-aged, like a side of bacon.

Sky’s the Limit by Blackkat (JackIanto, SuzieTosh, Ianto&Suzie | series | 6,694 | T)

Ianto and Suzie meet as strangers on a rooftop, and bond over aborted suicide attempts, failed plans, bastard fathers, and the fact that they're batting for both teams. Friendship is a beautiful thing.

Forever and What Comes After by violetmessages (JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 10028 | T)

“Hm, imagine if they did,” Ianto said. “Torchwood would have to come out of retirement.”

In which Gwen and Ianto relax at a spa, Jack and Rhys attempt bad science, and Anwen is just along for the ride.

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time by paycheckgurl (JackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 3351 | T)

This wasn’t exactly how they planned their Christmas going, but they were going to make the best of it.

Remnants of a Forgotten Past by paycheckgurl (Gwen Cooper & Jack Harkness & Owen Harper & Ianto Jones & Toshiko Sato | complete | 7523 | T)

Torchwood's latest case hits close to home for Tosh when it seems to center on Lodmoor Research Facility's Newest project...of a destructive off world variety.

Written for Torchwood MiniBang

Midlife Crisis by Princessoftheworlds (JackIanto | complete | 371 | T)

"You do realize," begins Owen one day during their usual lunch meeting, chopsticks dangling from his hand, "that technically, Javic is your mid-life crisis?"

Found you made us a star by Princessoftheworlds (JackIanto, OwenTosh, GwenRhys | complete | 6477 | T)

Millennia after having lost their team, Jack and Ianto set about reuniting with old friends and crafting a Torchwood for a new future.

#follower recs #genre:team fic #chartropes:team as family #event:found family fest

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Death | Peter Parker

So I wasn't expecting to post this today (or anything today). I wasn't expecting to have to work through my feelings with death today— to have to try to understand why people die and why they die young— but life hits you when you don't expect it, you know? You don't expect the people you know— especially when they're your age— to die. I don't, at least. And I wasn't sure where to turn to— or even how to say how I was feeling— so I chose Peter— because I'm sure if someone gets it, it would be him. I don't know if this piece will make any sense— but I guess that's fitting because neither did the death. A., you can rest now.

Synopsis: Peter doesn't understand why Death seems to follow him around.

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Ben Parker, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts

Warnings: Angst, Heavy mention of death (literally the title), mentions of plane crashes, mentions of animal death (his dog dies), mention of funerals, Endgame references, sadness

Word count: 1.5k

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Sometimes Peter Parker feels like Death follows him around.

It starts when he’s six years old. It starts peacefully. Maybe Death is trying to give a child a break— maybe Death knows it shouldn’t have to happen (both his parents dying on that plane, that is). That’s what he likes to believe anyway— how else does a six year old cope with death?

He doesn’t remember much beyond the long service (which now that he thinks about it was probably only forty-five minutes and change) and the starchy, itchy suit that May stuffs him into between his questions about death and cake. Yeah, he’s focused on the cake— how else does a six year old cope with funerals?

It isn’t much harder when his dog, Stomper, dies a few years later. He cries more— at least he remembers crying more— but then again he’s now ten and he understands more about Death. He understands its meaning— and the way it makes him feel— but not it’s permanence. Maybe that’s just Death yet again looking out for the likes of a child, though.

At ten years old he still allows himself to believe Death is nothing but an entity working a job— that Death doesn’t want Peter’s family to leave him just as much as Peter doesn’t. He tells himself that the proof of this (of Death’s humanity, if ten year olds even understand the concept of humanity) is that Stomper died of old age. His proof is that it was his time and that Death gives people— and dogs— as long as possible.

If that isn’t proof enough, then maybe there’s some more proof in the fact that May still doesn’t answer all of his questions— like why he isn’t allowed to see Stomper one more time. How else does a twenty-nine year old woman explain the intricacies of cars and dogs to a ten year old?

It isn’t until Peter is thirteen that he begins to wonder if Death is as kind as he’s been telling himself. It hits him as he places a rose on top of a shiny metal casket that maybe Death is a little cruel too. It hits him when he sees the initials B.P. carved into said shiny metal casket. His uncle Ben’s shiny metal casket. They had tickets to see the Dodgers next weekend— surely Death would have known that. He’s sure baseball is still revered in the afterlife, so what’s the deal?

He reiterates to May that exact question. This time when he asks her about death, she answers a little more truthfully.

“Why did he die? “

“He got shot— it was an accident.”

“How do you know it was an accident?”

“All death is an accident, Pete.”

“So Death made a mistake?”

“Yeah maybe. Maybe Death made a mistake.”

“How could Death make a mistake?”

She drops the mug in her hand when he asks that one (a mistake too he supposes) and the sound of the porcelain breaking as it hits the tiles around her feet sounds a lot like the home run alarm.

“I don’t know— I don’t know how. We all make mistakes.”

It’s at this point that he realizes that maybe May knows just as much about Death as he does. He would have preferred it didn't happen then— It’s a pretty big revelation for a thirteen year old who’s just had his second dad ripped away from him— but by now he’s starting to realize that, like Death, Life doesn’t work on his schedule either.

Still, at thirteen he has some hope left. Enough to try again, at least.

“Why did he die?”

“He got shot. I told you it was an accident Pete.”

May is bent over picking up the pieces of the broken mug (he’s too smart to think about the metaphor in that).

“Why did he die?”

“It was an accident.”

May tries again, still not looking at him— her hands are shaking now.

“Why did he die?”

She drops the pieces— she’s given up.

“He was shot.”

This time it isn’t an accident (maybe Death doesn’t make mistakes).

However maybe it is (maybe Death does) because at sixteen something happens that makes him revert back to how he was at ten. He starts thinking that maybe Death is on his side after all— that maybe mistakes happen but that it’s okay because they’re made with good intentions. After all, how else does a sixteen year old cope with his own death if he doesn’t believe that Death is kind?

Death must be kind because how else would be here, alive, if it wasn’t?

“Did I die?”

He asks— this time May isn’t here.

“I don’t know, kid.”

May may as well be here by the way Stephen answers.

“Did I die?”

He doesn’t know if he’s asking Stephen again or if he just can’t keep the question from leaving his lips but Stephen answers anyway.

“I think so.”

That’s not the answer May would give— it must be the wrong answer.

“Did I die?”

“Yeah kid— you died. We both did. But we’re back now so you’ve got to stay alive.”

Stephen doesn’t say it but Peter hears it— the relief. They’re alive— they shouldn’t be alive but they are. So yeah, maybe Death is kind after all. Maybe Death makes mistakes. Maybe Death corrects it’s mistakes.

Maybe that’s just the hope, though, because at sixteen (Peter doesn’t want to think about how he should be twenty-one and not sixteen) he stops wondering about those questions. Not because he isn’t curious about the answers anymore— he was just asking Stephen less than half an hour ago if he had died— but because they’re all, in fact, answered.

Peter doesn’t so much see Tony snap his fingers as he does hear it. In fact, he doesn’t know it’s Tony who’s snapping his fingers until the alien with his grimey hand around Peter’s throat dissolves. Kind of like how Peter had. Like the mug— he doesn’t think too hard about that (how else does a sixteen year old cope with an existential crisis?).

When Peter makes it back to Tony at sixteen with his hair matted to his forehead and his face covered in ash, his questions are answered.

“Mr. Stark we won, did you see—”

Peter stops, his eyes drifting to the blood at the corner of Tony’s mouth (he knows by now that his questions are answered but he doesn’t listen— he doesn’t know why). He watches as his lips curl up one last time (he tells himself that it’s not the last time— he doesn’t know why). He tries again (he has hope— he knows why).

He has to have hope (how else does a sixteen year old cope with watching someone they love die?)

“Tony we won— we won.”

He doesn’t get a response, only a hand on the shoulder as Pepper coaxes him to the side. Peter can’t hear what she says to Tony, his ears are ringing too loud. Eventually the light on Tony’s chest goes out— eventually Pepper’s lips stop moving (he doesn’t know why). They won but it doesn’t feel like they won (of course he knows why). Yeah, at sixteen all his questions are answered, even if he doesn’t think about them until he’s back in the starchy, itchy suit.

May’s hand feels like lead on his shoulder but he doesn’t have enough energy to tell her to move it as he watches Pepper lower the arc reactor into the pond. He’s trying to pay attention— trying not to cry— but his thoughts keep drifting (does he know why?). This time he’s not thinking about cake.

He’s thinking about Death (is that how sixteen year olds cope?).

It’s how he copes (finally putting answers to questions).

Death doesn’t make mistakes— how could it when Tony knew what the stones would do to him?

Pepper is crying now— he thinks maybe he is too. He can’t feel anything anymore though, not even May’s hand. All he can do is think.

Death isn’t kind— if it was then it wouldn’t have taken his third dad.

Peter is starting to hate thinking.

He wishes he had never acknowledged Death at six years old. Now he knows that it will never stop following him. He wishes he didn’t have so many questions still. He knows that May won’t answer them— she won’t know the answers. He knows Stephen won’t answer them— even if he knows the answers he won’t be around to tell Peter them.

He blinks, watching as the people around him begin to move. A couple of them stop when they pass, squeezing his arm or patting his shoulder, but he doesn’t move. He can’t.

No, Death isn’t kind, but it sure is persistent.

He doesn’t know why (maybe that’s the last kindness Death does him— giving him a new question to ask).

#Peter Parker #Spider Man #Peter Parker Angst #spider man angst #peter parker fic #peter parker drabble #spider man fic #spider man drabble #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fic #mcu angst #mcu drabble

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ask-iamnotanalicorn · 3 years

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Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork.

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever.

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other.

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves.

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

#mlp ask blog #pony ask blog #tirek #sombra #nightmare moon #Queen Chrysalis #mlp discord #IANAA #Salespitch

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

Home is Where You Are pt 2 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. Part 1 Part 3

Of course she had a fiancé. Feyre was talented, sweet, gorgeous, and did this really cool thing with the mud pies where she sprinkled dry dirt on top like cocoa. Okay, that last one was a childhood memory but Rhys hadn't seen her since they were kids. It was a very confusing moment for him.

"Nice to meet you," he said smoothly, extending a hand. He pushed down on the swell of jealousy that rose through him. It was ridiculous really, he hadn't seen the girl in a decade and some part of his animal brain thought it was allowed to be jealous. Surely he was better than that.

"Still live on Velaris street, do you?" Tamlin asked. His had was clammy when he shook Rhys'. "No, I moved out to the city some years ago," Rhys replied. He put his hands in his pockets. "Feyre invited me back."

"Rhys was always over," Feyre explained. She looked at him now, and the affection shining in her eyes made him forget to wonder why she had never told her fiancé about him. "His dad... wasn't great so he practically lived with us. I thought he might want to be here before we sold off the old place. Rhys is my oldest friend."

"Daddy issues, huh?" Tamlin said, in what Rhys had to imagine was an attempt at a sympathetic look. This did nothing for his first impression of the man. Feyre frowned at him, but Rhys just tilted his head to one side. "Do you know," Rhys mused, "I think even as a child Feyre had such a protective side to her, and I think that's why she loved me extra hard."

Tamlin glowered, and Rhys gave him a winning smile. Even as all the while the voice in his head whispered play nice, play nice.

"Why don't we go for lunch?" Feyre suggested. "I'm starving." "You're always starving," Tamlin said, rolling his eyes. "Lunch would be perfect," Rhys said. "We drove in, do you want a lift?" "Sure, thanks."

The three of them climbed into Tamlin's irritatingly red car to a diner not far from the old house. The neighbourhood wasn't bad, actually, it was just Rhys' attached memories that made it seem decrepit. He reminded himself that he had rather liked this diner, that Feyre's family had eaten here often and sometimes brought him with them. Particularly when Feyre's parents noticed he hadn't been eating very much.

A waitress came to take their order, and Rhys ordered a club sandwich. He looked at Feyre through one eye.

"Cheeseburger, no pickles, right?" He remembered this, because he had always been the one that ate said pickles after she picked them off. The sweetest grin started to spread over Feyre's face. But then Tamlin cut in.

"Actually," he said, "we adhere to a strict paleo diet. Well, some of us more strict than others." He nudged Feyre in the ribs, and turned to the waitress.

"We'll have two of the chicken caesar salad, with no dressing, and no cheese. Oh and no croutons."

Rhys stared. Feyre's face seemed to fall a little, but then she smiled at the waitress and handed back her menu.

The food came quickly, and Rhys' sandwich came with a side order of fries. Feyre's and Tamlin's meals looked, unsurprisingly, disappointing. Half way through, Tamlin asked for extra grilled chicken to add to his meal, and didn't offer any to Feyre. Rhys watched Feyre out of the corner of his eye. She had said she was starving.

"Hey," he said to her. "Can you help me with these fries? I'm full and I hate wasting food." "Sure," Feyre said brightly, and he shuffled them onto her plate where she practically inhaled them. "Babe," Tamlin said, aghast. "Come on, you had fries last week." He leaned in and spoke quietly to Feyre- but not so quietly that Rhys couldn't hear him. "Lay off the fried foods for a bit, huh?"

Feyre pushed him off. "Leave me alone, Tamlin," she said. "I'm selling my dead father's house. And I'm hungry."

Rhys concentrated on the remains of his sandwich. Good, he thought. That was more like the Feyre he knew. Had known.

After they were done, Tamlin got up to use the restroom, leaving Feyre and Rhys alone. Rhys couldn't help himself.

"That guy?" he barked with a laugh. "That's your fiancé? What are you doing with him Feyre?" "Hey don't be a dick," Feyre said, surprised. "You only just met him." "Yeah and I already know him. 'You had fries last week'? That sounds familar." Feyre's face twisted in anger. "Tamlin is not your father," she hissed. "He was my personal trainer when we met, I said I wanted to lose a few pounds, he's helping me keep on track." Rhys leaned back in the booth. "Oh so he met you as a professional, started a relationship with a client, and is still commenting on your eating as your partner. Yeah, that's much better."

Feyre opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. "You know what," she said. "It's been a very long time since we were friends." "Best friends. If I recall." "That's a childish term. I am not a child, and I certainly don't need you to come rescue me."

At that moment, Tamlin reappeared. "Are we ready to go?" he said. "Yes," Feyre replied curtly, and slid out from the bench. "You two go ahead," Rhys said, toying with his water glass. "I'll walk. It'll be good to revisit the old neighbourhood." "Fine," Feyre said. "Alright," Tamlin said, "how should we split the bill?" "I've got it," Rhys replied. "Fine," Feyre said again, and towed Tamlin out the door.

When they were gone, Rhys let his head drop back against the back of the seat, and closed his eyes. Idiot, idiot, idiot, he chanted to himself. He stood, paid for the food, and began the walk back to the house.

By the time Rhys reached their old address, he had calmed down enough to feel ashamed. He had not meant to sound so condescending, he had just been shocked that Tamlin was who Feyre had ended up with.

When he walked up to the house, the red car was nowhere to be seen. He opened the door, still unlocked.

"Feyre?" he called. "Here," her voice returned. Rhys walked through the house, gazing around himself as he did. It looked smaller than he remembered- although that was likely because he was taller. The Archerons had left so quickly that they hadn't bothered to take everything with them. The old furniture still remained, under now grey drop sheets.

Feyre was standing in the kitchen, with her hands braced on the island countertop. "Tamlin was called back to town for a work thing," she said. "Ah," Rhys said. "We were supposed to stay a few days and get things checked off before the funeral... but I can do it myself, I guess." She suddenly sounded very tired.

"Hey," Rhys said gently. She looked up at him, with those heart-stopping, stormy eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier." Feyre sighed. "It's okay." "It's not," Rhys said. "You were right. I don't know him, and I don't know you, really. I had no right to come in and make comments about your relationship." "No," Feyre said slowly. "You didn't." "I won't do it again," Rhys said. "And, I would love to get to know you. You know, as adults."

Feyre smiled. "I would like that too." She leaned her elbows against the counter top. "You're forgiven." She flashed a wicked grin. "Prick."

Rhys smiled. She had called him that when they were young- it was one of the first grown-up insults she had learned and took great delight in hurling it at him.

"So what do you want to do?" he asked. "I guess, we go through the house and find out what's in here." She wrinkled her nose. "I almost want a HAZMAT suit." Rhys laughed. "Let's open some windows," he said.

For the rest of the afternoon, they uncovered the Archeron's abandoned belongings. Some things were completely unrecognisable. Many of the things brought back memories, funny or happy or sad, and Rhys was warmed by the realisation that he had just as many memories here as Feyre did. Eventually, the sun started to go down, and of course there was no electricity in the house. They had been drinking water out of a tap in the neighbour's garden.

"Where are you staying?" Rhys asked her. "Well, here I guess." Rhys looked around himself, at ten years of dust and debris. "Is this... liveable?" "Probably not," Feyre said. "I think we might suffocate to death in our sleep. I thought about going back into town, but Tamlin's rushed off with the car. Where are you staying?" "Do you know, I never quite got that far." Rhys gave her a lopsided grin, embarrassed. The truth was, he had been so focused on making his way back to her that he hadn't even considered logistics like where he might sleep that night.

Feyre straightened up, and her eyes twinkled. "I've got an idea," she said.

An hour later, as it got dark in earnest, Rhys stomped down the last tent peg. The had muddled through the garage until they found the old camping gear, in surprisingly good nick.

Feyre lay down, and Rhys squeezed his broad frame in beside her. "Does it horrify you a bit that after ten years, these plastic nylon sleeping bags haven't degraded at all?' Rhys asked. "It does," Feyre agreed, "although I'm also thankful we have the option. That house is not fit for the living." "Well," said Rhys, "tomorrow we can spend the day cleaning. It'll be good as new." "Okay, deal!" Feyre said happily. They lay in silence for a moment.

"Do you know," Rhys said. "I'm pretty sure the last time we saw each other was in this very tent." Feyre laughed a husky, gorgeous laugh. "Oh I'm very aware. We were each others' first kiss."

Rhys rolled onto his side to look at her. "What's happened since then?" he asked. "What have you been doing for the last ten years?"

Feyre gave him an odd look, taken aback a little by the sudden intensity in his voice. Rhys didn't care. He had thought of her so many times through the years, but she had become some sort of distant, nostalgic memory.

Now she was here, he had to know. Everything.

Feyre rolled slowly to face him, and became serious. "What happened is my mom died," she said. "And my dad, he couldn't cope with it. He never recovered, and so I didn't know it at the time but I lost both my parents that day. We moved into some shitty rental, and then something would remind him of her and we moved again. He couldn't hold down a job, couldn't stay in one place. I think I haven't had a real home since I left here."

Her lovely eyes were filled with such sadness, it was all Rhys could do not to reach out and touch her face.

"Me neither," he said quietly. "Next door was never home for me, you know that. And after you guys left... after you were gone..." "Where's your father now?" Feyre asked. "Dead," Rhys said. "I'm sorry." "I'm not."

Feyre didn't respond. Rhys sighed. "I shouldn't say that about him." "He was a bastard," Feyre said. "He was, at that." Rhys said. Feyre rolled back to stare at the ceiling of the tent, and Rhys wanted so much to pull her back. But instead, he rolled over, too. He listened to her breathing in the dark, and for a moment, they could have been thirteen again. For a moment, it was as if no time at all had passed and he had his best friend back and they were home.

Then Feyre spoke.

"At least I've got Tamlin now," she said. “We just rent our apartment right now but in a few years we’ll buy a house, and then I’ll have a home again.”

And with that the moment was over.

****

Mm. This is not quite where I thought this would go, but let's embrace the angst for a hot minute and see where it goes.

Keep reading: Part 3

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #mine #angst

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just A Friend

AO3

Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.

There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie

It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.

Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.

A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.

The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.

“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”

“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”

The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.

“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”

“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.

“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”

Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”

From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”

“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.

I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.

I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.

The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.

I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?

I quickly type:

Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.

Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.

I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.

“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”

“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”

He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”

“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”

He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”

I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”

“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.

“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.

The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”

*********

Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”

I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.

“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”

I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.

As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.

I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.

And then, just like that, the moment passes.

It always does.

Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.

“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”

*******

The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.

At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.

Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.

Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.

***************

They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.

The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.

I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.

The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.

At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.

There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”

I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.

“Hello, how nice to see you.”

“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”

“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”

Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”

I shake my head. “Not at—“

But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”

“No, we—“

I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.

“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.

“Jamie.”

“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”

She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.

“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.

“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”

But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”

Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.

****************

Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.

With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.

Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.

I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.

She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”

I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.

“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.

“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”

She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”

“Where are they now?”

“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”

She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.

I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”

She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”

I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”

“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”

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writeblrfantasy · 3 years

Text

excerpt from a council of golden swords: tattooed cairic king

planned this scene weeks ago, forgot about it, enjoyed writing it immensely. poor kayani, they're so in love

anyway i hope you love this as much as i loved writing it, acogs has been kicking my ass this week and this was a nice battle won

Asma crosses her arms. “Take off your shirt.”

Kayani chokes on their own saliva. “What?”

“I’m going to paint you. Take off your shirt.”

Kayani stares at her, open mouthed, a thousand indignities resting on their lips. Asma taps her foot, paintbrush held between two fingers, frowning impatiently. No excuse, no argument, no plea will ever sway her. She is unmovable.

Kayani stares at the floor and loosens the laces of their shirt before whipping it off. They ball it up and stand there holding it until she snatches it from them and tosses it on the sofa. “Sit on the stool,” she says, “and for Cai’s sake, stop looking so stiff. Actually look like you want to be here. You don’t even have to smile. Just look a little less queasy.”

Queasy for a different reason, Kayani thinks, but obediently sits on the wooden stool in the center of the red, blue, and gold room. The yearly trip west, spent in close quarters with almost all of the Cairic army, has driven the modesty out of them, but everything is different with Asma.

She sits on the ottoman and drags her easel closer to her, a tray of paint pools sitting beside her on the sofa. The easel legs scraping against the floor makes Kayani startle. “Relax,” she orders in a tone that’s anything but relaxing.

Kayani folds their hands and tries not to slouch. The hairs that itch when they fall into their eyes will be the least of their worries over the next few hours. Why else would Asma paint them shirtless if not just to torment them?

Once Asma has everything apparently set up to her standard, she looks up and rakes her eyes over Kayani’s torso. Her breath hitches. “You have so many tattoos. I forgot you would.” Her voice disturbs the quiet of the room, breaking a sacred peace, or however peaceful the two of them alone can get.

“Isn’t that why you wanted to paint me shirtless?” Kayani asks. “Why else would you?”

She hides her face behind the canvas and doesn’t bother with an answer. Kayani prepares for a long set of hours filled with waiting, an aching back, and keeping their walls firmly up.

After ten minutes of silence, Asma working quietly, she asks, “What does that one on your chest mean?”

Kayani resists the urge to look down and earn themself their first don’t move, idiot. They could trace the lines of the * in the darkness, in their sleep. “The death of my mother.”

She gasps. “You got tattooed when you were just a child?”

They shrug. “I’ve known some babies who got tattooed after birth because of a difficult or scary pregnancy, complications that should’ve killed them. Parents, too. We use our tattoos to cope with many things, many emotions, but prominently grief. For many people, the experience itself of sitting there for ten hours while a needle pokes into your skin—it helps.”

“By enduring pain?” Asma asks.

Kayani shrugs. “Some people find solace in pain. It’s something real they can grip onto.”

“That’s the funny thing,” Asma says, peering out from over the canvas. “It isn’t.”

Kayani’s eyes drift to the tattoo on her forearm, she follows their gaze and pulls her sleeve down. Kayani remembers it all too painfully well—her poorly stifled tears and cries while getting it, their own desire to comfort her squashed by the hatred in her eyes. It’s their fault she has it.

“What about that one?” she asks, gesturing to the wings covering their shoulders.

“Are you asking because you’re genuinely curious,” Kayani asks, “or just trying to fill the air?” They want to poke further into her reasoning, but they don’t want her to change her mind and throw them out. Alone time with Asma is bliss as much as it’s torture, and they’ll take every last bit of it.

“I got the wings one year after becoming king,” Kayani says. “To celebrate not being assassinated.”

She snorts. “Get better guards.”

“I am my own best guard besides Ajar and Samad. I didn’t want to trust anyone else. The palace guards on rotation can only do so much against an assassin hired by someone who was angry I became king and not my sister.”

Asma rolls her eyes, the soft strokes of her brush soothing to listen to against the faint chatter of birds. “And the one on your back?”

“You’re not painting that one. You can’t even see it right now.”

“Answer the question, dimwit.”

Kayani grins. As much as they love to nag Nikolai about being attracted to the ones who seemingly want nothing to do with you, they’re no less guilty. “I got the first part done after I survived the Trials.” After healing up upon their return, they went straight to the royal tattoo artist. They knew exactly what they wanted: Ajar and Samad standing side by side, blue eyes pointed to the moon.

The two of them are right outside—if Kayani’s quiet, they can hear them scratching at the door—but an ache for them runs through their chest regardless. Sometimes they’re convinced the three of them share a soul.

“I would’ve gotten the outlining done before I left for the Trials for good luck and gotten it filled in after I came back, but I didn’t want to deal with unnecessary pain. I got the second part added on after I came back from my first trip west with the army. That time, I did do it in two halves for good luck, like many of my soldiers.”

Going to get those outlines and later the full lines done with their soldiers had been one of the most rewarding experiences of their life. Sitting beside ten others in a salon, all laughing or grimacing or telling stories to work through the pain reminded them that they could still mix with normal people. Winning the Trials didn’t make them special in the soldiers’ eyes, and Kayani liked it that way.

Their second back tattoo consisted of a light brown stag leaping across the center of their back, over the dogs. “Each trip after was another add on.” They’ve since added a grassy field for the stag and the dogs to rest in, stars for the moon, flowers and sparkles in a mix of reds and browns.

“Your entire body will be covered by the time you die,” Asma says.

“That’s the goal.”

As the hours go by, Asma asks, and this? What about this? That one? What are the ones I can’t see? Kayani answers her every question, shares every story, every memory. They don’t tell her about the one on the back of their ankle, small enough to miss. A golden paintbrush.

Finally, when the sun is halfway to setting and Kayani’s lower half has gone numb, Asma announces she’s done. Kayani wobbles to their feet toward the canvas, but she picks it up before they can see it. They sigh quietly but don’t question it—until she turns around.

She’s painted them in a background more heavily red than the wallpaper behind them. It brings out the red in Kayani’s tattoos, which are obviously the star of her painting. The edges of Kayani’s muscles are blurred, but the lines of the tattoos are as clear and sharp as they are on their skin. Their eyes are halfway open, tired, and Asma captured their faint smile at something she said, maybe some memory that took them away.

The sun from the glass wall behind them drips golden light onto light brown skin, a glowing backdrop for the tattoos. Kayani sat with their left forearm up, right hand holding that wrist, but Asma painted the opposite to hide the tattoo there.

Kayani has never had the eye for beautiful artwork, nor the time to study why people devote their lives to it, but this makes them reconsider. Not because it’s them, of course, they’re not that vain. Because it’s Asma.

“I will call it ‘Tattooed Cairic King’,” Asma says. Kayani can’t take their eyes off her nonchalant expression, the casual way her fingers grip the canvas. She completed this in a day and she acts like she’s holding a piece of cheap furniture. Doesn’t she know all of her artwork will be studied meticulously after her death merely because she’s a queen?

Not just because she’s a queen, Kayani thinks. Because she’s an incredible artist. They wish they had the courage to say so, but knowing Asma, she’d make some crack about their narcissism.

“Where are you going to hang that one?” they ask. “Which guest room or dining hall or office will get the pleasure of seeing my tattoos?

She fixes them with a look. “My suite wall.”

The floor seems to swim under them.

“I thought you hated me,” they manage. “As you pointed out, last time we were together you told me to never come into your sight again.” They gesture to the canvas. “I think that violates your rule.”

For once, Asma’s silence seems to be because of her loss of words, not dramatic pause or the bother of answering a question. “It’s some of my finest work,” she settles on. “I’d like to admire it often. Let people admire it when I’m dead.” She closes her eyes and runs her finger along the top of the canvas. “Also, I’d like to do your back sometime."

“What?” Kayani sputters.

“Oh, come on. If you can survive a needle pricking your skin for ten hours, you can survive sitting still for another six.”

That’s not the problem, Kayani thinks, but only nods. Cai have mercy.

kayani being shook by asma's ability to Art is me @ all the talented artists here yall rock

also if you noticed the tsoa inspiration for "and this?" then props to u

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses

#writing #writeblr #excerpt from my wip #my wip #my writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #fantasy romance #lgbt romance writing #lgbt writing #lila's wips: acogs #bean's excerpts

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fank0ne · 3 years

Text

I figured that making a list of the stuff I write could make things easier for me to manage and for you to consult, if interested. Oh, it's all Upstead-centered and yeah, here it is! 🥰

• from the "Chuckles and Goldilocks... and Freckles!" series:

- The process:

Hailey and Jay think about expanding their family.

- Freckles:

Looking for a nickname? Ask Trudy Platt.

- If you're reading this it's too late:

Hailey doesn't hold back in showing Jay the support he needs as he receives some terrible news.

- Honey whiskey:

Jay says his last goodbye to his friend and manages to find some closure with the help of some brown liquor — and Hailey's, of course.

- Her:

The Halstead-Upton family takes a trip to Greece.

- Through the late night:

Hailey catches Jay having some bonding time with their son in the middle of the night.

- A place like this:

Jay and a seven-months-pregnant Hailey get into a fight after he gets shot for the umpteenth time.

- Team:

Meet the new addition to the Halstead-Upton family.

- After the sun:

The Halstead family spends a few days at the beach along with the rest of the Intelligence unit.

- Such a Halstead:

Hailey, Jay and their kids get invited to have lunch at her parents' house.

- A ghost that never leaves:

Jay is having a bad time dealing with his PTSD. This time, though, with Hailey and their kids, he doesn't have to face his ghosts alone.

- Back for you:

Jay goes undercover for three weeks and Hailey has to take care of their kids alone — luckily, though, the Intelligence Unit has their back.

- Partners in Crime:

Hailey and Jay's son notably is a troublemaker. He also has a partner in crime, and who could it be if not Kelly and Stella's daughter?

- Calamity:

Hailey and Jay have to deal with the aftermath of an arrest gone wrong.

- Fireside // playlist here:

• MULTI-CHAPTER FICS:

- Summertime in Paris:

Hailey and Jay spend their first Christmas together.

Summertime is meant to fall in love, and so are Hailey and Jay.

- wanna hear your song (wanna dance to your heartbeat) // playlist here:

Life is gray and monotone for Hailey until the moment she comes across Jay, who is more than willing to add some rhythm and blues to it.

- the taste that your lips allow:

- a pair of kind, green eyes

- soft, large hands (to touch)

- sweet, freckled lips (to taste)

Three simple ingredients that make the perfect recipe for Hailey to be completed smitten with Jay.

- Where’s the catch?:

• ONE SHOTS:

Between Hailey and Jay, everything's rose — he thinks there must be a catch.

- If I had a heart:

Jay has to deal with Hailey's reaction to the series finale of her favorite tv show.

- Orion's Belt:

The idea of Hailey going to New York and accepting the FBI job offer doesn't appeal to Jay, and he decides to do something about it.

- Tightrope:

Hailey and Jay celebrate Valentine's Day for the first time, and it's at the hospital.

- 6 PM in New York:

Hailey is in New York when she finally realizes that her feelings for Jay might be deeper than she thought.

- Compass:

Post-8.11: Hailey and Jay finally have the day off and decide to go to the shooting range — after making love, drinking coffee, and eating waffles of course.

- A sky full of scars:

As their relationship goes on, Hailey gets to know about Jay's scars, realizing that not all of them are visible.

- Hundred:

Jay's started counting the days as a coping mechanism and now Hailey wants to keep counting them together, as a celebration of life.

- When:

Hailey thinks Jay wants to propose to her.

- Bullseye:

Mouse is back in Chicago for a couple of days and finally gets to meet the woman who stole his best friend's heart.

- Highest in the room:

Jay wakes up from surgery after Angela shot him, and Hailey finds him in a very unusual state.

- Dragonfly:

Hailey tags along with Jay and Will as the two brothers celebrate their late mother.

- when I close my eyes I feel it all again:

Jay does wake up one night when Hailey is struggling with her insomnia.

- if you're broken I'll mend ya:

Jay is not really talking to Hailey at the moment, but that doesn't mean he's stopped caring about her.

- ocean eyes (never fallen from quite this high):

He’s been watching her for some time and he still can’t stop staring at her ocean eyes.

- Hey brother:

WIll finds out about Hailey and Jay's elopement.

- Coffee:

Three times Jay brings Hailey some coffee, and the one time he steals it from her.

- Bullet in a gun:

Hailey and Jay discuss him training Dante, and she points out that the two men are more similar than he might think.

- give me the future (it's golden and bright):

As the Intelligence Unit deals with a tough case, Hailey has yet another confirmation that Jay would make a great dad — a girl dad, to be specific.

- Thin white lies:

Hailey finally tells Jay the truth about the day she went visiting her father after his heart attack.

- take it off:

Jay is having some trouble studying for his Sergeant exam, and Hailey comes up with a fun (and sexy) way to help him.

#one chicago #chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #wolves fanfic #c + g + f #upstead fic #upstead fanfiction #chuckles #goldilocks

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yeeharley · 3 years

Note

14 with parkner? 👉👈🥺

of course! this is in two parts, both of which are posted below. I hope you like it!

word count: 1524

warnings: uh. mentions of some shitty coping mechanisms (vague) and some kissing! pretty fluffy tbh

14: things you said after you kissed me

Peter Parker saves his first kiss for the ‘right person’, and when he finds him, he knows right away that he hadn’t made a mistake in waiting. It’s an immediate connection- it just clicks, right when he’s looking up into a pair of bright eyes and picking out flecks of gold among Florida-blue irises.

Harley Keener is an enigma to him, a puzzle, and Peter’s never been the type of person to pass up a puzzle.

It starts slow, just like most crushes do. He doesn’t notice the changes immediately- the way Harley’s eyes light up when Peter walks into the room, the way the corner of his lips always curl upwards upon seeing him, the way he listens attentively whenever Peter’s speaking and nods even if he isn’t making any sense.

Peter does, however, notice when butterflies fill his stomach every time Harley’s name appears on his phone screen. He notices the warm feeling that fills his chest whenever the blond boy laughs, the desire to run his hands through those unruly curls.

Peter’s not an idiot. He’s stupid, yes, but he’s not an idiot.

He knows what a crush feels like.

And, after a few months pass, he comes to figure out what love feels like.

Harley, Peter knows, hadn’t saved his first kiss. He tells stories about people back in Rose Hill- people he’d been in relationships with, people he’d hooked up with, people he’d kissed and never called back. His tone doesn’t change with each new story- sometimes he’ll laugh, sometimes he’ll scoff, but every word that comes out of his mouth is coated with distaste and contempt.

He hasn’t made a connection with any of his past conquests. Peter knows this- Harley had told him plainly that he hadn’t cared very much for any of them.

Peter doesn’t judge. He understands not being able to form emotional connections, and he knows that Harley’s had a rough upbringing. It’s not his fault that he’d been a bit of a player (a fact that he readily acknowledges).

But it does fill Peter with a bit of apprehension, the way he’s come to care about his friend.

If Harley hadn’t cared about any of them, why would he be any different?

So, filled with fear of a friendship lost, Peter waits. He waits, and waits, and waits, pushing his wants to the back of his mind until, sometimes, it barely feels like they’re there. He’s been shoving emotions down since he was young- why would this be any different? Well.

It’s never worked very well before.

It all comes to a head at Tony’s fiftieth birthday party, when Peter (freshly seventeen) and Harley (eighteen for two months) crash on the couch after the guests have left and Tony and Pepper are putting Morgan to bed. There’s a tilted party hat perched atop Harley’s curls, hanging just above his ear, and a single pink streamer caught on his shoulder.

He looks happy, Peter thinks, squished between Harley and the sofa’s arm.

He doesn’t want to ruin this.

But what if-

Apprehension growing in his stomach, Peter bites his lip, eyes fixed on the tip of Harley’s nose. He moves slowly, setting one hand on the other boy’s thigh, and gulps as Harley turns to face him.

He’s moving slowly. Expression unreadable, he looks down at Peter, tilting his head ever-so-gently to the left. Harley’s lips are parted just enough to allow the tip of his tongue to dart out.

Peter blinks as a smirk grows across Harley’s face. He’s frozen, a statue of solid ice, staring up into the face of the sun as blond curls crowd his vision and a large hand tilts his chin up.

Harley’s fingers are gentle and warm, tucked just above the crook of Peter’s neck. He’s good at this- has had enough practice to know what to do.

“Am I different?” Peter asks, voice shaky and quiet, fixed on pools of deep, deep blue. Deep enough to drown in, he thinks.

Harley’s smile softens into something affectionate and teasing. He doesn’t say anything, just moves his hand so that he’s cupping Peter’s jaw and leans in to press their lips together.

He tastes like honey.

Peter’s eyes drift close as Harley pulls away, hand still holding his head. To his embarrassment, something in him drives him forward, chasing Harley’s lips like an absolute moron.

He flushes as Harley laughs.

“Honey,” he murmurs, index finger tracing careful circles behind his ear in a way that sends shivers down Peter’s spine, “you always have been.”

ii.

Harley Keener has been with eight people, and he hasn’t told a single one that he loves them. He keeps track- just because he acts like it doesn’t matter to him doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. There’s a page in his ninety-nine cent grocery store journal dedicated to their names and the reason that he’d liked them. Their special characteristics, their individual beauty, their appeal.

Unnecessary? Probably. But if he doesn’t keep track, there’s a little part of him that keeps telling him that he’ll lose himself.

Harley doesn’t want to lose himself.

Jaime Harris had been a brunette softball player and the reason Harley knew he wasn’t attracted to girls. He’s eighty-percent sure he’d been the reason she knew she wasn’t attracted to boys.

Aiden McCarthy had been short and muscular and very, very closeted. Harley had liked him quite a bit more than the others; Aiden had decided that boys weren’t worth the fear of being outed.

Harley respected that. Didn’t mean the breakup hadn’t hurt, though.

The other names seem to blur beneath his pen, chickenscratch writing too difficult to understand, and he lets himself slowly forget.

Those names all come from the lowest point in Harley’s life, and now that he’s out, he wants to stay out.

And now he’s with Peter.

Peter, whose eyes gleam like honey when the sun hits them at the right angle. Peter, whose laugh sounds like bells chiming in the early morning. Peter, who is happiness and joy and everything Harley has never had incarnate.

Peter, who Harley loves.

They’re in Harley’s room when it happens, studying for their upcoming senior exams. Peter is sitting cross-legged on his bed, textbook perched on his knee, eyebrows furrowed so hard that it looks like they’re about to touch. He’s so engrossed in his work that he hasn’t noticed Harley watching him- and he’s been watching him for a while.

He’s allowed, though. Boyfriend privileges and all that.

Harley knows he should be studying. It’s a big deal, these exams- he has to finish strong if he’s going to bother to finish at all.

But.

It’s been a week since he and Peter have had a good talk. A week since they’ve really kissed. And, yeah, he’s a teenaged boy who really likes kissing. They’re in the prime of their lives, and Harley wants to enjoy it.

He hasn’t been this happy in a while.

It doesn’t take much more than shoving Peter’s textbook off of his leg to get his attention. When he looks up, the lamplight from Harley’s desk catches in his eye and his breath stops in the base of his chest, because wow. He’s so pretty.

“Harls?” Peter asks, catching his lip between his teeth. “You alright?”

And he just looks so beautiful, sitting there in Harley’s room, looking at him with those big eyes, that Harley can’t help himself.

He leans in slowly, just like he knows Peter likes, and tilts his own head so that he can slot their lips together. Peter’s hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes right at the junction between his shoulder and neck, and okay. Wow.

Harley slides onto the bed, burying the palm of his hand in the thick hair at the nape of Peter’s neck. His fingers slowly twine around a few strands as Peter tilts his head back, lips working against Harley’s slowly, slowly, slowly.

He’s smiling. Harley can feel the way his lips twitch up, the way the warmth of his cheek seems to bleed into the warmth of Harley’s. Peter’s hand slips below the hem of his shirt, skin against skin, and Harley shivers just a bit.

He pulls back. Their lips are barely touching, hovering over each other, and every time Peter breathes, a puff of warm air hits Harley’s nose. Eyes locked, Harley leans forward to rest his forehead against Peter’s, butterflies deep in his stomach because he’s going to say it, he’s going to say, it, he’s going to-

“I love you,” Harley breathes, closing his eyes so that his eyelashes brush up against Peter’s. “I love you.”

For a moment, Peter stops breathing. The butterflies intensify, this time for a different reason, because oh. He’s made a mistake. That wasn’t the right thing to say. Oh, no-

Another puff of air hits his nose, this one quicker, because Peter is laughing.

“I love you, too, baby.”

It’s the first time he’s said it.

It’s the first time he’s felt it.

It’s the only time it’s mattered.

#silver-bubbles' fanfic #peter parker #harley keener #spider-man #mcu #tony stark #pepper potts #morgan stark #peter parker x harley keener #peter parker/harley keener #parkner #keenker #parley #harleypeter #shade tag #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt #yeah uh i hope ya'll like this

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