#she is the house but also her own person but also that place is so intrinsically hers that to the others it IS her
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Reveal | a.Putellas x j.Hermoso
Hidden secrets series
Hidden secrets Masterlist
Warning: mention of pregnancy, fluff
Today was the day alexia and jenni would find out the baby's gender.
alexia had already gone for the test only waiting to find out the results. which her sister alba had taken upon herself to get and plan a little reveal party for the couple.
As she and her mom were the only one's who knows about them having a baby.
Alba had kicked both alexia and jenni out of their home to set up the mini gender reveal party. She had already ordered those cake that reveal the gender depending on the colors. along with a few sweet treats and gifts from her and their mom.
Alexia and jenni on the other hand, had decided to go too one of the beaches close to her house after getting some refreshment before heading there.
Finally finding themselves a spot once they've arrived they both sat down before getting another word for one another.
"So do you think we're having a girl or boy" jenni asked alexia .
"I'm not quite sure I know if am begin honest with you" she said while laughing a little.
"Doesn't carrying a baby come's with a little motherly prediction"
"The only motherly prediction I know is that My baby is the size of a bell pepper" this time while giggling
"Our baby is the size of a bell pepper". Jenni repeated properly for alexia.
While alexia had a huge grin on her face knowing what she did there.
"I know just messing with your head" she told the older woman before leaving a kiss on her lips.
before jenni could reply alexia had told her that alba was ready for them to get home now after getting a massage notification.
On there way back to the car hands interning they hadn't noticed someone taking a picture of both of them too lost in their own bubble.
Finally arriving back to there place alexia felt huge nerves. of course she would be happy no matter what the babies gender was.
but she just felt some type of way without explanation before she could go farther on her thinking lane jenni had snapped her out of it.
The door slowly opend revealing the decorated place with balloons around one side of the room and a cute sliver saying baby.
with a clear blue and pink balloons floating around, the cake that was also on the table. But the one that caught alexia alexia and jenni's attention would be the white balloon that had a gold font writing boy or girl where they'll find out the gender of their baby.
"You do know that you could pop the balloon or cut the cake to find out the gender". alba told the couple.
"Which one would you prefer?". Jenni asked
"The cake preferably".
"Now that we figured it out ale come with me and jenni please go to the other room where you'll find some clothes to change into".
Alba told the couple before separating them to different room's. She had gotten both of them a white top that says mom's to be and a pair of baggy jeans for both of them. Alexia couldn't be more grateful to her sister for trying to make everything so memorial for them.
quickly getting change and letting her hair down so she could fix it up a little. Once she was done she turned around giving her sister a hug.
"You should show the bump a little it would look good". Alba suggested to alexia.
alexia sighed before doing what she was told, one look in the mirror she realized what alba meant has it made her look and feel amazing.
Before both the sister got out alba grabbed alexia hands saying.
'You'd be the best mother to that child no matter what you're an amazing sister daughter and person ale one of the most strongest person I know you've made everyone proud so please never look down on yourself love you". she told alexia
"oh germana thank you so much your words and actions means a lot to me". She told alba before the both embraced each other into another hug until they heard eli calling for them.
"Coming mami". they said in synchronization Before going back to the main room.
Finally making their way out there joining Eli and jenni who seems to be having a convo of their own,after a while alba had made the couple take some pictures and videos that they could look back on.
The moment they all been waiting for alexia and jenni held the knife together and sliced into the cake revealing a soft pink color.
They were having a girl their own baby girl.the rush of excitement and happiness that filed the room couldn't be explained.
"We're having a girl". jenni said to alexia
"Yes we are". she could bearly reply has tears of joy were flowing down her face the only feeling she had now was to be the best mother to her unborn child.
Before she knew it jenni had mange too pull her off her feets that changed into a hug before pulling her again into a deep kiss not caring that her sister and mom were there with them.
Eli and alba gave the couple space before joining them for the celebration.
Everyone obviously enjoying the moment that happening. Alba had grabbed her phone to post a small tease about the gender reveal without linking it to alexia.
but instead got a lot of notifications that she clicked on upon seeing the photo of alexia an jenni on the beach that had been posted by someone who probably recognized both of them.
"Ale". alba said calling out her older sister showing her the photo on her phone.alexia had grabbed her phone after noticing it was a picture of her and jenni.
She was honestly over it and shut the phone off it wouldn't be the first time that fans couldn't respect there privacy but what could she do nothing really.
"It all right alba it doesn't really matter let the internet explode while we enjoy the moments as family". alexia told her sister with a smile.
She could careless it really doesn't matter to her she was going yo have her own family now something that way more important than whatever people think is going on and if something does happen jenni would always be there for her.
A/n: hope y'all enjoy this chapter it feels like longest one I wrote for this series the next one I plan to release is the baby shopping that the anon requested and feel free to send in request or your opinions on the fic which would be helpful thank you for reading
#alexia putellas#jenni hermoso#alexia putellas fluff#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas fic#alexia imagine#jenni hermoso x reader#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso fluff#woso community#fcbfemeni x reader#fcb femini#woso blurbs#fcb femeni x reader#espwnt x reader#espwnt imagine#barca femini x reader#alexia putellas x y/n#alexia x reader#alexia x jenni#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x jenni hermoso#alexia putellas x reader fluff#alexia putellas x imagine#jenni hermoso imagine#hidden secrets by pinkyqil#alba putellas#woso
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ldpdl, ethnicity, and the false monolith of blackness
there's this false tendency to think amc louis being made black is pandering, or a means of removing louis from his oh-so-detailed /sarcasm/ background in the books. i also find that people tend to not even understand what show louis's ethnic background is, despite rolin jones the showrunner and even the fictional louis both coalescing around this multigenerational explanation of the gens de couleur in new orleans, and how jim crow disempowered them.
I came around to his ethnicity a sort of interesting way which is through Lestat. [ … ] I was like lets give him a legitimate a third attempt at figuring how to be with somebody for the rest of his life and how to not repeat your mistakes. [ … ] I started from there so it had to be someone with some money cause he had to be with his own folks and I thought he wanted someone who could fight back and who could be a challenge and would force him to restrain himself. And nobody at AMC was interested in 7 seasons of the regretful plantation owner, so we made Louis come from a lineage that did have a plantation and did own slaves.
rolin jones in the s1 post-finale episode of the podcast names how he came to this understanding of louis's character. lestat, after failing to make a bride of his mother, and a concubine of nicki, was seeking for someone of a similar background, or the most approximate equivalent. he would not have been interested in louis if louis was an anglophone baptist black man descended from upper-south arrivals into new orleans, nor would he have been interested in louis if louis was a poor black creole honestly s1 does not give a good reading of claudia's ethnic bg in new orleans, but since she cannot understand french, we can presume shes either a poor creole removed from her cultural background with her vampiric adoption narrative in mind, or was also of an anglophone baptist black background like claudia was. louis coming from this fallen sort of gentry, the free gens de couleur, similar to that of the tvl lestat who came from this barren aristocracy dating back to the crusades, was key to lestat's long-term goals with louis.
Capital accrued from plantations of sugar and the blood of men who looked like my great grandfather but did not have his standing. But then decades of Jim Crow and the electrified light of a new century had vanquished any idea of a free man of color. - AMC IWTV 1x01
louis was of the first generations of the gens de couleur to be born, raised into, and face the institutional and personal ramifications of being viewed as black in america. this fuels much of the character's rage as he moves through storyville, trying to continue the similar modality of exploitation to the contrary of pretty baby with brooke shields, majority of the brothel circuit was statistically black girls + women being sexually pawned off to white men but ultimately failing to do so bc of the anglophone white american class that now rules over him. [tom anderson, alderman fenwick, finn o’shea starting out as louis’s subordinate then ending w/ him entering whiteness by having a sporting house throwing torches at louis’s brothel in s1e3]
By 1850, the free population of color, beset by the hostility of white supremacy, was economically diminished and residentially segregated. The Americanization of Louisiana, and in particular New Orleans, was completed before the state became the sixth to secede from the Union in 1861 in the struggle over the perpetuation of slavery. [link]
The Democratic redeemers who came to power in 1877 lost no time in redefining the Negro's "place" in Louisiana life. They immediately restored the color line in the New Orleans public schools and offered silent support to de facto segregation practices in places of public accommodation. With the assistance of two landmark decisions by the United States Supreme Court, the redeemers soon dismantled the egalitarian legal apparatus put together piece by piece under the Radicals. Finally in 1890 they began to write their "final solution" into Louisiana law with a series of "separate but equal" statutes. Soon New Orleans Negroes were again segregated in virtually every public pursuit. [link]
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore
Word Count: 5550
Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!
Part 5
The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.
You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.
Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.
It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.
The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.
Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.
The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.
The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.
“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.
You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.
His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.
The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.
He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.
“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.
Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.
Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.
As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.
“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.
“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.
Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.
He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.
All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.
Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.
“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.
You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.
“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”
“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.
“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.
“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.
“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”
“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.
“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.
“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.
Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.
“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”
“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.
“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”
You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.
Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.
“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”
“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.
You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”
“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.
“Azriel-”
“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”
“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”
“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?
His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.
Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.
The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.
This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.
You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.
Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.
The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.
You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.
Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.
Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.
“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.
“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.
“What do you mean?”
“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.
Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.
You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.
When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.
It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.
You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.
You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.
All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.
You're finally free.
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#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel fic#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#azriel angst
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Yandere S.T.A.R.S Team (Resident Evil) platonic headcanons
Note- I am back (It's been years), this has been in my drafts so I said fuck it/this is so messy and the timeline/canon may not be accurate but enjoy! This is mainly platonic, but w/some characters it could be interpreted romantically
Characters; Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burton, Joseph Forest, Brad Vickers, Forest Speyer, Richard Aiken, Enrico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, Edward Dewey
The first person you perhaps meet is Albert; he is the leader of the S.T.A.R.S Team. Not only do all the recruiters get approved by him, but he also overlooks all your tests. He greets you like any other, but gradually something takes a hold of him. He's in denial at first, even seeming harsh. You may initially believe he didn't like you; oblivious to the countless files and cameras hidden everywhere.
Having the rest of the team be just as enamored was not on the table. You are immediately welcomed by the team and Rebecca is the first to befriend you since you two are the youngest of the team. Like how Richard was tasked with watching over Rebecca, he’s tasked with the same responsibility over you (even if Wesker preferred to do it himself).
Chris can't help but grow quickly fond of you. He positions himself in the role of your protector; feeling the utmost responsibility for your happiness and safety. So if you have any problems - whether it's with Chief Irons or getting in trouble for say, breaking a rule; trust he'll be quick to intervene and 'save' the day.
You're all Chris ever talks about to Claire and before long, the two of you cross paths. Claire, like her brother assumes herself in the role of being your friend right away. She occasionally pays you visits and you can be sure that you will receive calls from times when she's unable to visit. Claire expects Chris to keep her informed of you at all times.
Barry, Enrico, and Kenneth all take fatherly roles; they look at you and already placed adopted papers on the table ready for you to sign. It makes it all the harder for Wesker to have any absolute control as they all put their foot down.
Barry adores you and it’s not taken lightly when it’s said he treats you as his child, probably cause he views you as actually one of his own. He invites you to a family dinner, introducing you to his family who all naturally take a liking to you. Barry insists on his house always being open if you need a place to stay or run into trouble.
Since Barry sees you as his own, there is a never-end to his dad jokes. Even when you comment on how terrible it is, he likes seeing the smile on your face. Trust you'll be invited to every birthday, barbecue, or any family Burton event.
Enrico while he adopted a fatherly role, he was a bit reluctant to get so attached to you. He’s the few in the team who's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to call out the others when he thinks they are going too far. He worries a lot about your safety, and most times it's Enrico who comes out on top of arguments on who gets to drive you home.
Kenneth as the oldest of the team, feels the most responsible for you. He is aware just like Enrico and doesn't wish for you to be scared of him or the team. He wants you to come to him whenever you need anything, even for small tasks such as finding a specific file. Like Enrico, Kenneth has no problem telling the others to back off if you need space.
More trouble comes along when Forest and Joseph come along. They develop their tendencies the quickest and tend to be the most clingy out of the team. They (along with Chris) become your partners in crime.
Joseph is someone you can always count on to make you smile even in the most serious of situations; he doesn’t care when others lecture him for it. You're not safe from his teasing. Granted you're not the target of his pranks but he likes to poke fun at you from time to time. It's why no alarms are ringing in your head when he says something questionable, assuming he’s just being Joseph.
You're not safe from Forest's playful teasings either. He can be a little annoying, poking your cheek or trying to tickle you when wanting your attention. Like Joseph, he's very affectionate, putting his arm around your shoulder and resting his head on your lap if you allow it. The others lecture him for doing it so publicly but Joseph knows it's jealousy talking more than anything.
As said, a squad of its own is formed; Chris, Joseph, Forest, and you. While they tend to be jealous, the three are okay with sharing when it comes to each other. Forest and Chris enjoy competing in shoot training and showing off who can do it better, inviting you to place bets. They're happy to show you all the gun's tricks and let you choose your weapon's signature.
Joseph, being a mechanic, can't always spend as much time with you. But he'll eagerly drag you into teaching you the ropes, whisking you away from the other two. He beams with pride when you grasp something from his impromptu lessons. Even if he's not exactly teaching you anything, he's happy to chat about anything as he works.
Jill becomes someone you’re close to, someone whom Chris and Barry trust to leave you alone with. She’s not afraid to whisk you away from the others when she wants to and won’t hesitate to call out anyone selfishly taking your time (Uhm Joseph).
Most of all, Jill loves having girl time with you. She's there for any fashion advice, gladly taking you shopping to revamp your wardrobe. If you're unsure how to do your makeup, she's eager to help, though Jill never wants to teach you so you can keep coming to her.
Jill is also willing to use any excuse to have you stay over at her place anytime even suggesting sharing an apartment to ‘save money”. And if you think Wesker’s the only one with a bunch of files, Jill has a hidden drawer filled with everything she has on you.
Brad becomes incredibly attached but is a bit shy about approaching you. He'll do little things to make your day better, like bringing your favorite coffee (watching you do it too many times) or organizing your desk just the way you like it.
Brad tries to agree with everything you do, supporting any ideas you bring forth in, team meetings and hesitates to snitch on you, always trying to talk to you first to prevent trouble (aka punishments). Similar to Kenneth, he's aware of his tendencies and doesn't want you to fear him.
Richard is the softest guy on the team as said, was tasked with watching over you and quickly grew fond of you, He has made it well known that if you ever need help you can seek him out even when you get in trouble, he’ll gladly keep it hidden from the others to avoid you being in trouble even taking the brunt of it.
If you find yourself spending time with Richard, trust that Rebecca is there, too, being the sweetest in the group as well. Initially, she might not fully grasp her tendencies, but once she does, her sole concern is your safety and happiness. She frowns upon hearing Jill and Chris discussing ways to keep you confined and is the one who tries to reassure the others not to be too 'harsh' on you.
Edward may appear intimidating, but he's actually a softie at heart. While he might not warm up to you as quickly as Forest and Joseph did, given some time, he grows fond of you and eventually places him as your trusted friend. He's aware that his demeanor can be intimidating and desires nothing more than for you to feel comfortable opening up to him, always offering a smile whenever he sees you around the RPD.
----------------------------------------------
Chief Irons has learned that you're the one person he can't even dare to go near. You might be a troublemaker, breaking every rule in the book, but Albert will put his foot down to ensure nothing comes of it. It's enough that the rest of the team has a dislike towards Irons, and he, along with everyone in the RPD, knows that crossing you means crossing the Stars team.
Wesker also keeps the extent of his monitoring and knowledge of you a closely guarded secret. He's aware that Kenneth, Enrico, Richie, Edward, and Barry all vocally dislike the idea of 'stalking' you in such ways (they all do but try to keep it as ‘morally right’). In his grand plan, he hopes to lure you away, but he must do it in a way that won't raise suspicion.
You have the most protective people watching over you. Even a simple accident like someone spilling a cup on you puts everyone on high alert.
Your favoritism doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the RPD, sparking rumors around the station that Edward and Barry quickly shut down whenever they hear someone bad-mouthing you.
Chris and Forest, on the other hand, can be incredibly impulsive, leading to all sorts of issues that Wesker and Enrico have to deal with. Jill and Joseph even got in trouble once for punching someone.
That means going on no dangerous missions; the one thing they all agree on. Wesker ensures that all your missions are carefully managed, eliminating any risks of you being in danger, and he pretends not to know what you mean if you ask. The other members are willing to gaslight you, suggesting that you just happen to get the easy ones, even Rebecca and Brad.
They're all eager to fight each other to train you, each claiming they're better at teaching you self-defense. Chris and Forest are the ones who usually end up teaching you since they're often the first ones to arrive.
But everyone knows that if Wesker insists on training you, they can't object. And it's probably for the best, as some (Uhm Richard, and Edward) will pretend to lose or go easy on you because they don't want to "hurt" you.
The team normally doesn’t go out, but they all want to spend time with you. Usually, all of you go to diners (except for Wesker, wonder why). There's a little argument over who should order you to prove who knows you the best.
Your seat is chosen to please everyone, sometimes between Jill and Chris, other times between Richard and Rebecca. Another silent argument happens when they debate on who should pay for you; Enrico succeeds by slipping the payment to the waiter when the others aren’t looking.
Everyone always makes sure you come home safe. You expect numerous calls from everyone checking up on you. They all secretly know you're fine, as they're in cahoots with each other, but they just want to hear your voice.
There's also a chance that if Richard, Forest, or Jill are the ones bringing you home, they'll make some excuse about needing to stay overnight because they're tired or the weather is bad.
If you need someone to drive you to the station or pick you up, perhaps because you can’t drive, they're all willing to fight each other once again to do so. They've left important meetings or appointments countless times just to rush to your aid. It's almost always Wesker, Richard, Enrico (and sometimes Chris) who beat the others in picking you up.
Once again, you're always taken to events that the teammates have. Brad is getting takeout, he's on his way to pick you up since he assumes you're also hungry. Forest wants to go out for a drink, prepare for him to be at your door, and when you attend together, he’s protecting your drink with his life and will even pretend to be your boyfriend. Barry has a baseball game he wants to attend, so why not come with him and his family.
Jill needs to pick up a new outfit or something in the way, she decides to take you as well. Rebecca comes along, and sometimes the three of you have spa days in the process. Rebecca also loves going on road trips with you; there needs to be a person or two with you to ensure nothing bad happens. Rebecca once brought you to her favorite team's basketball game and the two of you shared those nachos and fries. It was Rebecca's happiest memory.
Movie nights are a must. Brad and Edward agree with anything you wish to watch, while Jill and Joseph are fighting over which ones to watch. Chris and Forest are trying to get your attention more than actually watching a movie. Meanwhile, Rebecca is actually enjoying the movie and wants to talk to you about it later on. She and Richard ensure you have your popcorn, and Richard brings your favorite bakery treats.
Expect to be always praised when you're around the team. Wesker himself praises you for a job well done whenever you find a clue or bring him the right file. Richard, Edward, and Rebecca are the most vocal. Also expect Chris and Barry to give you a pat on the back, while Forest and Joseph jokingly pat your head.
Wesker has you as his right-hand assistant, even when it’s not officially confirmed as such. You're tasked to help and stay by him whenever he needs assistance. He pretends not to see everyone side-eyeing him when he places your desk right next to his, but then again, they all ignore his stare when they come to your desk for whatever excuse they need.
The best people to comfort you are Barry, Enrico, Kenneth, and Richard. These men hate seeing you in tears. Brad will try to make you laugh while hugging you, while also finding the right words to comfort you. You can lie to Enrico, and he'll still know; he's memorized your body language, pulling you into an immediate hug before the tears even come.
Kenneth's ability to comfort shines in giving the best advice and solving any issues you have. Richard will sit next to you and listen; it could be the middle of the night, and he'll gladly answer any call or stay up to do any activities that will cheer you up.
Something everyone has huge arguments about is punishments; it gets heated at times. These discussions are, of course, not done in your presence.
Wesker is open to punishments, Chris and Jill agree with precautions, and Barry may reluctantly agree but claim he wants nothing to do with it. Brad and Rebecca voice their disagreement but can’t really intervene. Edward and Richie, like Barry, say they want nothing to do with it. Forest and Joseph don’t like it but will let the others make the decisions. Enrico and Kenneth are the most vocal against such decisions.
-------------------------------------------
Everything is going well in the team until the mansion incident.
You had to be with the Alpha team, unaware of the fate that fell upon the Bravo team, as there was no way Wesker would have let you out of his sight.
You had to witness Joseph get mauled by the zombie dogs, and if it weren’t for Wesker shooting the one coming at you and Chris pulling you along, you may have been a victim of it. Getting into the mansion has them immediately checking for injuries, only to realize you are just shaken up.
If you try to suggest coming along with Chris to check on what’s happening, Wesker immediately disapproves, even pulling rank to have you stay by him, and Jill agrees. Chris assures you he'll be just fine.
Things happen and it may lead you to be separated from Wesker and Jill. It makes all of them panic and look for you. Chris is nervous but assumes you must be with either Wesker or Jill. Jill and Wesker are trying to remain calm as they search. There is a chance you will meet Rebecca, who informs you of Edward's death, and this leads to you reuniting with Chris.
Alternatively, you may come across Barry, who refuses to leave your side, leading you to reunite with Jill. Both scenarios will have you meeting Richard, who immediately embraces you upon seeing you safe. You may also encounter Enrico, who seems hesitant to inform you of who he believes is responsible for the situation.
Forbid you get injured at any moment in the mansion, everyone will be in panic. Barry will try to reassure you, holding your wound while Jill rushes to get any herbs. Or Rebecca will try to tend to you while Chris silently panics in the background, refusing to leave your side. Richard will insist you stay in a room for your safety while he tries to find Rebecca or first aid. Enrico tries to remain calm, bringing you along with him as he rids the area of any zombies, fearing the risk of leaving you alone.
Soon enough, you will find out about Wesker's involvement, and his first act is to keep you as a hostage, even knocking you out. He’s merely bluffing but needs to keep the others away. If he encounters Enrico, he is well aware the man knows he’s a traitor and will kill him in front of you. After all, you will know the truth either way.
It all ends with Wesker believed to be 'dead,' killed by the tyrant, and the mansion about to blow up. You and everyone mourn all those who you have lost, and you are surrounded by the remaining survivors as they try to comfort you and tend to any injuries you may have gained.
You are too lost in your grief and all you have experienced that you don’t realize the eyes all watching you, as they all make a silent vow to themselves to forever keep you safe. And most of all, you don’t know that Wesker has been reborn, getting out of the mansion as he plots his revenge.
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#resident evil x reader#yandere resident evil#albert wesker x reader#chris redfield x reader#jill valentine x reader#rebecca chambers x reader#yandere x reader#x reader insert#platonic yandere#yandere headcanons#reader insert#video game x reader#resident evil#stars team
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|| My fellow Colonel
Y’all asked for it and here it is. Whew, I wrote all of it today so here’s to hoping it is tolerably alright. Also, as an aside, I am just shy of 1k followers and that’s astounding to me. I had to rebuild this blog from scratch in December after two previous deactivations where I lost a similar amount collected over a far longer time. I’m truly so grateful for each of you who take an interest in sharing this little corner of the internet with me. Thank you, thank you!
Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ with additional chapter warnings for gore and violent character death, brief mention of racial discrimination and a very dark headspace for Ida at times including brief yet crassly recollected sexual assault
April 1945, escape spoilers ahead
“Bitte.” Ida kept her hands placating, outstretched and harmless by her side, the most open expression on her face that she could summon as she stared the woman down, “Bitte nicht!”
For eleven days she and Smith and Cleven had managed to scrounge their way westward, evading recapture or altercation. But eating from the dead horses on the side of the road was out of the question, agricultural fields were churned to sludge by Amtrak’s and the small amount of wheat berries they found in one abandoned supply truck had long since ceased to fuel their weakening bodies.
They had passed by a camp, one that they observed from the shelter of the woods to be abandoned or liquidated, once used for civilian labor, judging by the signs. After a careful reconnaissance it was agreed that Ida should go and act on her hope that the commandant's empty dwelling may not have been completely ransacked. That there might be some leftover provisions either there, or in the homes of the other personnel. She had had no luck at the commandant’s, it had been empty, no luck in the next idyllic little shack either, only the eerie knickknacks of some bygone person whose vocation it was to deal in pure evil.
In the third house she had found jars of spoiled milk, tubers of some sort gone to sprouts but she did not care, she grabbed a ratty towel lying on the floor and made a sling for them. She was in the process of prying a loose floorboard up, anticipating some root cellar below when the whining creak of a sneaking step sounded behind her in the still place.
She whirled around in a crouch, half expecting either one of her companions or else one of the many starving children they encountered on the road. Instead, silhouetted inside the bright doorway there was a woman, in the uniform of a guard and with a Lugar poised at the ready. Ida felt a cold spike of fear at the flashing recollection of her last encounter with such a female, at the horrid misery that was Ravensbruck, the complete and entire lack of respect shown to her or her girls by these indoctrinated tools.
Ida’s grasp of German had been sufficient enough to keep herself and her companions away from suspicion in their occasional interactions with passersby. While she wore the heavy overcoat of a military man, it had no markings, and it was just as likely for some freezing civilian to steal it off a carcass as it was for an American female officer to be on the loose. Ida knew this and she tried to play at being dumb, pointing to the food, explaining in unstudied desperation that she was starving.
The female guard observed her coldly, her impassive face showing a certain lack of curiosity or even remote interest in Ida’s narrative that made her heart quicken with a presentment of a swift and sudden execution. She has seen these guards lift a gun, squeeze the trigger, and move on boredly all in the matter of a second. What about her own features or story were so compelling to prevent it?
“Bitte nicht!” She repeated again, choosing to take a step forward, eyeing the woman’s grip and posture, professional, soldierly, the woman left little opening for Ida to capitalize on, but she would rather get a bullet in the gut while fighting than be shot hunkering over stolen potatoes.
There was a darkening in the doorway, it caught Ida’s eye right before she timed her launch. It was Cleven. His appearance made her hesitate a moment too long. He had his arm barred around the guard’s throat in an instant but the pistol was out of his reach and one stride too far away from Ida’s grasp. Unlike the hapless children in the forest that had attacked them days ago, this officer had bullets. Ida felt the searing tear of its bite smart her shoulder, blurring her vision in pain before she rushed in, clasping her own hands around the pale wrist.
Cleven had the woman’s eyes rolling back with his grip, her grapple at his forearm growing feeble as her oxygen ran low. Another shot rang out, a bullet embedding in the ceiling rafters as Ida managed to wrench it away at last. She turned it on the woman and fired, only to find her luck run out again, as well as the chamber.
There was a knife in the guard's boot, both women seemed to think of it at the same instant as the guard became possessed with a final animated struggle to reach for it, desperate to break out of Cleven’s strangle. But Ida wasn’t about to watch another friend die, or miss her chance to go home, to bear witness to what her girls, her men, her brother were yet enduring, not to spare herself a fleeting moment of misplaced mercy. She dove for the boot, wrenched the knife free from its sheath and drove the blade in under the sternum, carving it upwards as she herself rose to her feet. Her wrist was fully in the chest cavity, arm covered with warm still living blood, by the time she saw the guard’s head loll impassively against Cleven’s chest, the soul finally gone dim behind the eyes.
“Sweet Jesus.” He stepped back from the corpse, letting go. Ida felt the weight of the body in her wrist as her grip on the knife was all that kept it standing. She tore the weapon free with another sickly gush, and blearily observed it crumple to the floor.
“There are spuds.” she told Cleven as she braced her hands on her knees, nodding to her abandoned sack of potatoes. The edges of her vision were blurring from the exertion, her coat sleeve was soaked to the elbow, but she had a weapon now and a dead Nazi at her feet. Both sat well with her.
The potatoes bought them another days walk, with Smith using the ratty towel to wrap Ida’s shoulder, it was only a flesh wound. That evening they had another run in, but this time it was with the friendly faces of gum chewing yanks who were welcoming with their smokes and their K rations. Poor infantry boys, they were bamboozled by the existence of a female officer, the experiment of integration having only added to the flyboys somewhat derisive glamor. But it was mostly awe, and a healthy amount of respect, that they showed for the blood smeared lady Colonel.
“That make you one of Brady’s Banshees?” one bright corporal made conversation with Ida as he allowed her a seat beside himself on the hood of a tank, it was a hitched ride into Belgium.
“She is Brady.” Smith drawled for her, enjoying far more than Ida how gobsmacked the man was to be in the presence of feminine greatness.
They were welcomed warmly everywhere by their fellow allies, ferried like heroes on any conveyance possible. Smith was their cheery intercessor, knowing her superiors were of so torn a spirit and conflicted of conscience as to be half inclined to go back to where they came from. In truth, Ida could hardly bring herself to board the last plane -an unbelievable courtesy taking them from Paris straight to Thorpe- as all she could think on were what repercussions might have been exacted on the others for their escape. And what cruelties she had left her brother to endure without her.
Cleven was not much better; Egan, Maureen, all of them still left behind. As they took their seats on the benches, felt the old nostalgic rumble of the engines, not of a Fort but of a Gooneybird, what should have been a lightening of spirits as they soared over the channel was instead a dismal camaraderie of guilt.
That fateful night when they had all agreed to escape before crossing the Danube, the organization had been infuriatingly chaotic yet the groups were chosen with emphatic pragmatism. The guards were used to watching certain persons in company with their favorite fellows. The Bradys, the Buckys, Smith and Murph, each had some comrade the Germans expected to be their partner in any subversive endeavor. With this in mind, their agreed-upon groups were intentionally fractured to confuse their captors, each hoping to meet up somewhere on the road or in the forest.
Cleven and Ida had waited only a few hundred yards in the tree line for over an hour, hoping to be joined by their fellows. In the end only Smith came, with the word that the gig was up, Egan had been detained, John Brady never even began to saunter off before they closed the perimeter. No more were coming. It took all of Smith’s vicious logic to keep the officers from going back, she had to lean on reminders of reprisals and certain death, how they could in no way alleviate the suffering of the others by rejoining them.
What they could do was carry through, escape, go back to England, spread the word, liberate.
Despite this inner turmoil, Ida felt like kissing the ground when her feet landed on East Anglian soil. Or, rather, the cement of the old familiar runway. Instead she settled for Crosby‘s cheeks, the beaming fellow being so utterly honest in his welcome that some tiny part of her melted in momentary relief at having actually made it. That hadn’t really sunk in, not until there was an English mist pelting her face and Harry’s crinkled cheeks between her hands.
“A major?!” she repeated his rank and felt prouder than his mother in that moment while Harry blushed scarlet under the affirmation.
“A-and a father.” tumbled out of his mouth as a deflection except, that subject made a great hullabaloo too, with even Cleven growing exuberant in his congratulatory shoulder slapping. “What am I doing makin’ you stand out here, get in the jeep sirs, I’ll take you to a hut, or-or the club? Or the doctor?”
Both Ida and Cleven stiffened in their swing into the jeep at the last suggestion, a brittle defensiveness tightening their smiles, “Bed and board are all we need, thanks Crosby.” Gale gave him one of those devastatingly final little nods of his.
They kept him occupied and rambling on the ride, updates on new crews, new buildings, Jeffreys, Meatball, the improvement of rations, tales of bombing Berlin, the prospect of victory within reach. By the time he’d parked outside Cleven’s old barracks, Harry knew next to nothing about their own experiences, and he felt that somehow to have been quite calculated.
“There’s still a ladies sector, Colonel,” Harry assured Ida, much to her confusion as to why there wouldn’t be, “I’ll take you and Smith there.”
The old hut was as she remembered it, same as all the others, curved metal amplifying the patter of rain and the monotonous comfort of Air Force regulated bunking. It hit then, no more wooden combines or roadside shelters. She was really back.
“Where the hell is everyone?” Smith asked, the place eerily quiet, even for midday.
“There at- there at work.” Crosby offered haltingly.
Suspecting something dreadful, or as Bucky liked to say of her instincts -sniffing out bullshit- Ida slowly turned to Crosby and gave him a stare, one she recalled having once effectively shrank the man by a few literal inches. Perhaps because it was remarkably similar to her brother’s. Harry bore up under it better now, oak leaf cluster on his breast or a hard three years adding some spine to him, she didn’t know, but still his expression wavered guiltily.
“At work?” she repeated his phrasing, “That what the kids call war these days?”
“A few, a couple, -some,” he settled on, “are on missions. We’ve been uh, we’ve been running a lot of missions. Picking up prisoners -like you guys.”
“The rest?”
“At work.”
“Where’s this work?”
“Uh, well, various posts, you know how it is-“
“-grounded?” She supplied.
“Well, yeah. Just like Douglass and me and-“
“They badly hurt? Who’re we talking about?”
“Colonel,” Harry begged her, looking mildly close to drowning on dry land and sending a wet eyed sos at Smith, “dozens of them are posted here. Grounded yes, but, in good positions, required positions-“
“Did they get corresponding promotions?” Ida hit back, “Were they grounded because they were too valuable or were they hurt? Or did they just get squirreled away in some cupboard with a typewriter?”
“Look, uh, sir,” Harry chuckled nervously, “a lot of them are on missions, some of them are at their jobs -where I should be right now. But, it’s true, uh, the brass thought that, well they weren’t sure, Ida, when we got word you’d escaped we wanted to welcome you back right and uh, we didn’t know what to expect. We’ve had a lot of reports. Some reassuring and a lot…not. Not reassuring at all. And uh, we didn’t know what to expect, they didn’t know and uh, depending on how you were, it could affect the morale. So they thought, clear the place out a little, yeah? Make sure you were -you were…”
“Didn’t wanna scare the kids.” Ida supplied, tone softened, suspecting she probably did look half witch from all her trials.
“We didn’t know what to expect.” Harry repeated, a significant amount of relief bleeding into his voice, like he was going to get choked up on her mere continued existence.
“Well I need a change of clothes, and I need a shower.” Ida smiled at him until he gave her a fastidious look while glancing at her blood stained coat and she sent him a sour glare in return, “And a nap. And then I dare say nothing about me will be cause for alarm, not even for general LeMay.”
Harry was back to chuckling nervously as he walked his way backwards out the hut. “Of course, yeah, uh, we tried to supply uniforms, laid them out -best we could scrounge, for now.”
“Thanks Croz.” Smith offered, trying to soften the ending of this interaction.
“Before you go,” Ida stalled him, “tell me a little about the new ones? Who should I know? What should I know? Hate to wake up in here and have to start making acquaintances from scratch.”
“Colonel,” Harry answered her in the most mournful voice, “there aren’t any new ones.”
That old whiff of cold dread was back. “Crosby.”
“They uh, after you went down, colonel they, they scrapped the program.”
“You cannot be-“ Ida rubbed at her throat, trying to get it to open up, wondering what the hell it must be like to be Gale Cleven and get to come back to Thorpe Abotts and nothing be different, get to be home and get to find everything where it should be because your own higher ups aren’t fighting against you right along with the bastards with the flak and the barbed wire and the endless taunts about women being made for breeding. “Crosby what do you mean scrapped? They shut it down?” she wished she sounded angry, but she knew it was a cry, and to his credit he looked ready to cry for her.
“Colonel I’m so sorry, the reports were so alarming and the-“ he shook his head, “-they grounded all female servicemen right after. Cut the program, if it wasn’t for Kidd they might’ve sent them all back, discharged or moved to the WASPS. Well, they stayed, but, it’s not- it’s not what it was, colonel.”
Ida bit her lip, that old throbbing pain from the old injury of her cheek bloomed again, it felt like arriving at the stalag in one too many ways. “Y-you said something about, you said some were up on missions.” She wracked her brain for it and found it, that one bit of hope and she clung to it like a woman drowning.
“Yeah!” Crosby was over eager to soothe the pain with the modicum of good news he had, “They are! Rosenthal he uh, he’s over the squadrons now and uh, he’s seen to it they are allowed up. Mostly uh, mercy runs or behind allied lines, they don’t want anyone captured but, they’re up. They’re getting their thirty missions. They’ve uh, they’ve changed the number, since you were here.”
“Thirty.” she repeated numbly.
Harry’s footsteps had long ago receded along the gravel outside by the time Ida allowed herself enough movement to sink atop the pristinely made bed in her filthy clothes and just stare at the opposite bunk of equally pristine sheets and all of it so pristine and so rigorous and so proud and so pristine and so-
The echo of her own scream startled her, banging off the tin walls and circling back to her. Ida felt more than saw the implacable Tallulah Smith jump in fright beside her, but that level headed woman knew better than to soothe her officer. Not after what they’d just learned. She bit her tongue and busied herself sorting amongst the clothes and provisions for towels, combs, soap, toothbrushes. Ida watched this rich display of care on the part of their fellows with a snarl bending her lip, she could taste salt and knew she was also crying and all that she could hear amongst the cacophony in her head was a desperate wail -she didn’t want combs and towels, she wanted her squadron back.
Some aspect of this heartbroken petulance must’ve shown on her face as Smith extended both a comb and towel to her with forceful kindness, “LeMay didn’t lay these out.” was all she commented. “Think of it as Harry’s hospitality. You look a mess, and won’t get any respect for it.”
Smith had some vantage point from which to speak, Ida knew. Native American with bronzed skin just shy of being segregated twice over, getting screwed over was something Smith had made into an art form of cat and mouse. Ida had long admiringly observed it; she never thought she’d need to adopt a similar posture to this degree. Not when she felt like grabbing at the knife still in her trench coat pocket and making a charming scene and all it would get her was confirmation of the reports.
Whatever those were. Alarming reports, apparently. It was so very upper brass of them all to find the enemy’s methods unfortunate and so shoot themselves in the foot like it evened things out.
“I’ll be along in a minute.” Ida insisted to Smith from her bunk, refusing more than the towel and comb.
They’d all been through hell for daring to be combatants. But Ida, at this news of her loss, was beginning to recall particular parts of her own hell she had not dwelt on since they occurred.
Colonel -the way each had called her that, sneering at the mere concept of a colonel with a cunt, an officer so easily breached, a leader made by her Creator to be bent over and taken. She’d had a squadron then, and no amount of scorn or cruelty could take that from her; no, only her friends could take that away.
And they had.
Robert Rosenthal was giving himself a little pump up speech as he stalled outside with his hand on the door knob, knowing he needed to knock first and that knocking would buy him a little more time to ready himself, and so he really should go ahead and knock. The pattering drizzle on his hat brim should have been human incentive enough to get inside already, if duty and honor and admiration weren’t quite cutting it today. But he stalled, even went so far as to cast an indefensibly juvenile and furtive glance over his shoulder at the shrinking form of the accommodating lady who’d passed him on his march here. A Lieutenant Smith, who had told him she was glad to be back and that her famed superior was still inside-
“Angry as God after catching the Israelites worshiping cows at Mount Carmel.”
Rosenthal knew Ida Brady had every reason to be utterly furious, hell -he was furious for her, with her, about her. And he had no right to stand there and wish she wouldn’t take it out on him, to defend himself with shitty excuses like the fact a few of the girls got to see the top of clouds because he had put his shiny and promoted boot down and asked for it. He wasn’t exactly the problem, perhaps, but he was, by sheer implication of it being men like him unable to require better treatment, at fault. And so, Rosie stood in the drizzle and gave himself one last minute to think about Colonel Ida Brady as she had been the last time he’d seen her, terrifyingly formidable and utterly kind.
“It’s no worse than your dread of it, I swear.” she had told him and Nash that night before their first time up, “I was relieved to have seen it.”
What had she seen since? He stared at the little leather binder in his hand and scoffed at the administrative mission that carried him here. To hell with it. He knocked, he waited, he knocked once more, and he went in.
The stipple of rain on the roof of an empty Nissen hut was a calming background noise he himself savored whenever possible. Despite their bare aesthetic and extreme practicality, there was a serenity to them as well, and on spotting a seated figure a few bunks down from the entrance, he felt a pang of empathy for the desire to just decompress.
She looked up at the sound of his footfalls, not startled in the least. Not angry. In fact, she looked utterly dazed, like the men he’d helped out of their forts after a bad run of it. A face he’d seen in the mirror once or twice or a couple dozen. There was a docile listlessness in her gaze that he knew better than to be comforted by, despite the selfish feeling of relief at not immediately being eviscerated about her squadron. She was gaunt, understandably so, her strong jaw so pronounced he could cut his thumb on it, the pallor of her skin jarred unsettlingly with her dark brows, set off in stark relief by her tangled, jet black hair. Her overcoat was half muddy brown, half doleful rust. There was a bloody story there, a recent one, not washed away by a hard rain or bath. Rosenthal didn’t have any doubt how that struggle had ended for her assailant: she was here, wasn’t she?
He’d never seen anything more magnificent in all his life than this battered figure sat on a pristine cot with dawning recognition in her eyes.
“Welcome back, Colonel!” he ventured, keeping his tone soft as befitted the setting, yet unable to keep the creeping happiness at her return from showing in his voice.
“Mm, yes. Rosenthal.” Ida was straightening automatically, rising from her seat, shrugging off her clumsy overcoat and standing near to attention at sight of the brass on his lapel, “I remember you. A Colonel now, I see. Well done.”
Rosie felt his cheeks burn, another juvenile thing, her hand extended itself to his surprise and he clasped it warmly, maybe a little too firmly. “Well that’s kind of you, Ma’am. Very kind. Welcome back, Colonel.”
“You’ve said that already.”
“Apologies.” he stumbled, releasing her hand in hopes of regaining his thoughts. She didn’t look angry yet, she looked wary, “Just glad to have you back. There was…a lotta concern.”
“It was touch and go but -here I am.”
“Right.” There was silence after that, it was so thick that the quirk of his kind lips and the gleam of his eager eyes slowly dimmed and fell as no small talk resumed. “Uh, colonel,” he ventured, “due to those aforementioned concerns, uh, I’ve been asked-“
“Aforementioned? What kind of talk is that?”
“Ha, well, lawyerly talk I’m afraid. I need to get a report from you, colonel.”
“For God’s sake man, I just got here, maybe with a shower and a nap and a cup of joe I might have a report for you but- I just got here.”
“Yes.” he refused to wince, he refused to. He was a colonel now, he had to require unpleasant things every day from his friends. Today it was required from a hero. Small difference in a war. “And if it were up to me I’d give you weeks to do all that before asking a thing from you. But I can’t, colonel. They wanted an immediate, preliminary report. It’s -it’s the same as an integration after a mission. Less interaction beforehand, less time to confuse the details- you get my drift.”
“You’re under orders.”
“I am.”
“Why didn’t you say? God’s sake Rosenthal.” she was close to angry now.
“Sorry, ok, Colonel I-“
“Why the whole welcoming committee schtik? Just say what you mean.”
“It’s not a schtick, Ma’am,” he insited, heatedly, “it’s a genuine honor to have you back with us and a relief to see you safe. And yes, I have orders to get a preliminary report.”
“In future you can save us both precious minutes of our lives by being this forthright, please?”
“Understood.”
“Right, well. What’s wanted? What kind of report?” He didn’t fail to notice the sudden and very studied nonchalance that took over her gait, the way she leaned against the railing of her footboard, almost a slouch that made the lean line of her look entirely unperturbed. He wasn’t a good lawyer out of naïveté about such posturing. She was braced like hell for this, probably worse than he was.
“On uh, on your general treatment. Ma’am.” he decided to summarize it thusly.
“Well Colonel,” he had forgotten what a nice voice she had, it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t gruff, it was simply nice, “if Gale Cleven’s under eyes didn’t tell you the food was meager and hardly nutritious, I’ll go on record to say so. But they did try, I think I can give them that. Looked like everyone was starving by the end.”
“Conduct of your guards?” he had his stupid little leather case open on his forearm and the not quite soggy notepad in it was being dutifully filled with scribbles.
“I’ve little to say against the Luftwaffe, they were honorable for the most part. I think you’ll get that same report from the others. There were a few incidents, but we were enemies. To be expected.”
“Right, uh,” the pencil drug a little “this is a general report so I’ll spare an inquiry into those incidents.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“Anything else?” Ida tried to smooth her face, she really did.
“Colonel -yes.” she watched him as he deliberated for a moment before seeming to recall her scathing admonition of before, and carried on resolutely in the bluntest manner he could summon, “Regarding your prolonged detention before the stalag. It’s our understanding you were not always under Luftwaffe jurisdiction?”
“That’s correct. Combatant status was not recognized for four and a half weeks.” Ida gave a clipped nod. “We were even briefly detained at a concentration camp.”
“I can’t imagine what you must’ve seen there.”
Ida stared back with some slight emotion flitting over her mask-like face at long last and Rosie felt maybe his own showed it, too, “From what I’ve heard, we may be the only ones to have left alive.” she said at last.
“Your testimony, what you saw there, it could become-“ Rosie drew in breath, “-invaluable.”
“I’d do anything to see justice done, Major.” she agreed, “Sometimes I think I dreamed such mass cruelty. Seems too large to be real, too awful to be abetted for so long by so many.”
“I saw what was left of one of the smaller camps. In Poland.”
“Mm, so you can imagine.” she retorted, but it was a kind retort.
“I don’t see much else when I close my eyes.”
“Mm.”
“Right, back to this uh, report, the question is, how were you treated before civilian status was adhered to?”
“Is this a personal report or a general one?” Ida inquired suddenly.
“The assignment was to ask about your own observations as senior officer of the female contingent of-“
“-then in that case, the treatment was barbaric, Major Rosenthal.” Ida informed him forcefully, “The Luftwaffe used plenty of rough tactics and one officer was particularly cruel to Cleven. I was informed my brother was dying and that my obstinance in denying giving them information was prolonging his torment. All of that I was prepared for, it was one soldier’s attempt to break another. The gestapo, on the other hand, were beasts. And the SS -sadists. They dealt in cruelty for the pleasure of it and my girls went through hell. Once in the stalag there was a reprieve. Then the Luftwaffe were relieved of command and it began again- if you expect details, come back with a larger notepad.”
Rosie gave a curt nod of his own in understanding, his brow creased at the implication.
“No one wants to see justice done for them more than I.” Ida went on, “But they’re still out there, and I’m here. And I-I don’t know that those are my stories to tell, Colonel. What I saw is plenty enough to hang a village. And it wasn’t just toward my girls.”
“At…at a later point, you’d be willing then?” he ventured, softly, no longer professional, “To tell me what you saw?”
“Larger notebook, Rosenthal.”
“Yes ma’am.” he knew a dismissal when he heard one, he even felt a brief and heinous relief at the prospect of slipping away on a high note. The dreaded scrapping of the program still undiscussed. “I’ll uh, leave ya to that shower.”
“It’s good to be back, Colonel.” she called to him while he was still maneuvering through a somewhat meandering exit, she called out this concession as if it were meant only in regards to him, “Like what you’ve done with the place.”
Well now that was -that was kind and that was unexpected and Colonel Robert Rosenthal may have let the door hit him on the way out.
💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.
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#masters of the air#mota#mota fanfic#mota oc#mota imagine#those who can#integrated au#Rosie x ida#mota fanfiction#Rosie Rosenthal#Robert Rosenthal#Nate mama#rosie rosenthal x oc#Rosie Rosenthal fanfic
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Headcanons/Thoughts for Every Main Five Just Dance ship
Obviously I have my favorite but sometimes it’s fun to just think about other ships so I wanted to make a post about ALL of them. For some reason. PS don’t reblog/reply to this with “well actually that one ship sucks and I don’t like it”. As far as we know all of them are the same age and not related so there’s really no reason why any ship is wrong, let people like what they like.
Wanderlust x Jack: I don’t need to rant about them, you all already know. Go read my fanfiction
Wanderlust x Sara: He brings her into this magical world, she loves it and she loves him. It’s a bit cliche but cliches are cliches because they WORK. Also, we know Sara loves the Danceverses, but what if Wanderlust loves Earth? What if he’s got a Little Mermaid thing going on? Imagine Sara showing him around Earth and him being excited by the silliest little things
Wanderlust x Brezziana: They’re both the most energetic ones of the group. Imagine them teaming up on adventures and charging ahead together when the others get tired. Neither of them can always find a friend to keep up with them, but they always have each other
Wanderlust x Mihaly: They’re kind of like two different sides of the Flow? Wander is more energetic and Mihaly’s more chill, so I think they’d balance each other out well. Mihaly gets Wander to slow down every once in a while and appreciate things he’d otherwise miss. Wanderlust shows them how to be more spontaneous and free
Jack x Sara: Sara falls for the bad boy except he’s not actually bad. So much in the Danceverses is bright and crazy and overwhelming, so Jack being more down-to-earth is refreshing for her. Jack loves the way she treats him. Aside from the events of story mode, she doesn’t have the background on Night Swan and Eternyx that the others do, so she doesn’t know his reputation as well. He feels like she really sees him as his own person while everyone else will always remember his mother’s shadow
Jack x Mihaly: I think both of them being the more practical ones of the group could mesh well. We also know Mihaly used to idolize Night Swan in some way, so they both can relate to having wanted to live up to her legacy and now realizing she was wrong. Jack is also always expecting some sort of punishment or consequence if he does something wrong, but Mihaly is so chill about everything that they make him feel like everything’s okay
Jack x Brezziana: Brezziana will drag Jack out of the house to go do stuff when he’s stuck moping around. Theyre SO opposites attract. She’s also ready to stand up for him whenever necessary. Jack will just turn the other cheek to insults and pretend nothing bothers him, but Brezziana won’t let him bottle things up
Sara x Mihaly: Another case of chill vs energetic balancing each other out. I think Mihaly brings Sara to meet Master Panda and he really likes her. What if they try training together to see if Sara is gifted with the Flow like people from the Danceverses are? Again, I feel like Mihaly is also a grounding presence for her amongst the chaos of the Danceverses.
Sara x Brezziana: They go on mall dates a lot! Cute dates where they pick out outfits for each other and try them on. They’re very giggly. They post very cutesy Instagram posts about each other all the time. Connected at the hip when the gang goes out places.
Mihaly x Brezziana: This one’s popular. Again it’s energetic vs chill. Mihaly will often open their home to fourteen texts from Brezziana about something crazy she just did and Mihaly just shakes their head and smiles.
#pls don’t let this turn into ship bashing#if you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all#sometimes I think about writing a Jack x Sara fic#I’m definitely a Wanderrose stan but I think it could also be good#endless possibilities here and they’re all good#also no I refuse to call them the just dancers#just dance#just dance 2023#just dance 2024
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Hello, seeing the conversation I'd like to share my own experience with a bharani native, one of my best friends was a bharani moon, venus and rahu stellium in the 2nd house. Shes very intelligent and talented in mathematics, she was popular in school, and someone always had a crush on her. She was never interested though, as she is aromantic and asexual.
I do not mean to bad mouth her or say that she is a terrible person, Humans are complex and I still have a lot of affection for her since we were best friends since childhood but our relationship turned sour similarly as others have expressed concerning bharani natives.
As soon as I hit a low point in my mental health, she started distancing herself from me. She was always very uncomfortable with expressing her emotions and even more so with handling others, but she basically abandoned me in my time of need. It was quite traumatizing and I honestly felt betrayed by her since we were so close. She herself admitted in the future that she did me extremely wrong, we reconnected for a bit, but her emotionally immature and uncaring, cold attitude and mentally persisted in our early young adulthood.
Me and her were also very close with a magha moon and rising girl, we were basically inseparable for years, but she started to treat her with the same coldness as she did me for seemingly no reason. She also did the same to my other pushya girl best friend for no reason. My magha best friend had a conversation with her and she thought they buried the hatchet, we invited her for our magha friend's birthday but she ended up canceling the exact same day citing a BS excuse. She continued to do this 3 more times for her birthday and my mother's birthday.
She was/is the easily bored, emotionally distant type, but we always worked around that in our dynamic, and this behavior was unacceptable. The last time she canceled coming to our friend's birthday, THE VERY SAME DAY, I finally snapped. I was just so upset at her dishonesty, because she clearly didn't want to go/didn't care, but she still accepted to go Everytime! It was like having a deadbeat father for a best friend! I was so angry cause I just wanted her to be truthful, wanted her to just admit she didn't want to go/didn't care for our friendship anymore, but she didn't even respond to that.
It was just very traumatizing to experience how someone you loved so much could stop loving you in an instant, made you wonder if they even loved or cared for you in the first place, the three of us were basically sisters, I always imagined her at my wedding, my graduation, my life.
So yeah, sorry for trauma dumping, but I think the casual coldness of bharani needs to be studied, cause why are some of them like that 😭
DUUUUDE 😭😭😭😭 i literally have two Bharani friends who are just like this lol 🥲ngl it did traumatize me at one point but then I stopped expecting anything from them and stopped reaching out and honestly it's all better that way. Tysm for sharing your experience because I thought having bad experiences with Venusian women (and mostly pleasant experiences with Venusian men) was a me thing 😬. I think people talk a lot about Venusian charisma, social charm and hospitality but forget to mention how cold, uncaring and insensitive they can be. I think it's one manifestation of Venusian refinement, they discard people who aren't doing their best or feeling their best. Absolutely not people you want to reach out to when you're in a tough spot bc they won't gaf 🥲. It hurt me a lot when I'd call them up (in my case, I was always there for her, hyping her, cheering her, being her shoulder to lay on) and they'd act disinterested when I'm literally talking through tears?? She straight up told me she's tired and wants to sleep lol and then said "you know I'm not the type of friend who can comfort you" like 🤧okay??? I felt really used in those friendships and betrayed as well?? I remember one time this friend who frequently visits my city to hang out with her other friends and never meets me (we went 3ish years without talking at one point) called me one night to make plans for the next day and the next day morning she said "oh I'm busy rn let's meet by noon" and then at noon said she had something else going on and then i said I'm not interested in meeting lol . She always told me she couldn't reach out to me cause of her phone/network/social media whatever random excuse and I believed her cause I wanted to and then I spoke to a dude who's pretty close friends with her and he told me about how they always met each other whenever she was in town and always hung out??? and he was sharing stories of times they spend together and I was so?? shook?? like the same person who cannot reach out to me is hyperconnected to some random guy ?? My other Venusian friend told me she stopped talking to her close friend after she started experiencing health issues and then got surgery??? I do think Venusians only want to stick around for the good times, they're like "party friends" but they're completely unreliable when it comes to anything that isn't fun for them. Venusians are the type to treat people as disposable and then get mad when others treat them that way lol . They're used to believing they're irreplaceable but truth be told, everybody can be replaced esp toxic, rude and negative people. I think I strongly dislike Venusian women bc they're so absorbent?? They love to take from others without giving in return. But it's interesting to me how Venusian men are the opposite?? They love to give endlessly even tho they do expect their partner to match their energy and be receptive to them and not shut them out?? It also makes sense as to why Venusian men are drawn to Venusian women bc the women can be pretty self absorbed and draw in their energy. They're good at receiving without guilt or remorse, they receive like that's what God made them to do.
Edit: a girl in college who "discarded" me has Saturn in Bharani atmakaraka lol, astrology never lies
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[ID in alt text] my magnum opus
#the owl house#toh#hunter toh#lilith clawthorne#i have hcs about their dynamic but they're mostly comedic tbh#like yeah it's fucked up that Lilith had beef with a child but it's also pathetic and i think that takes the edge off it tbh#hunter kinda knows this. he doesn't like her and i appreciate it when ppl read it as ''hes walking on eggshells around her''#based on that one dana art#i think it's a fair read#but i personally like to read it as equal parts nervousness and annoyance at having to be placed with Mean Un-Fun Lilith#hunter thinks she's a loser and has no idea why she hates him so much. he's just trying to do his job man#(my personal elaborate hc as to how this dynamic formed is that hunter as a child used to think Lilith was cool! he wanted to be like her!)#(unfortunately his braggadocios persona as the golden guard gave Lilith the impression that he was Out For Her Job and also Life)#(and bc she's Lilith these threats from a child are taken seriously. she will play nice when Belos is around but she DOES NOT TRUST HIM)#(and she's just not going to interrogate her own insecurities regarding yet another bubbly teen prodigy coming in and stealing her thunder)#(she is definitely not getting reminded of her own insecurities related to eda being better than her growing up. no sir)#(she totally doesn't see the emperor as her mom whaaat that's crazy)#(ANYWAY post canon i think they could be good friends. bitchy friends but good friends)#(someone the other comes to when they need a brutally honest opinion! steve hangs out with them too. ex emperor's coven buddies!)
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Christian Wiman, Darkness Starts | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S2E8, All God‘s Children | Ian Strange, Suburban Intervention | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S1E3, Ghost Town | Christina Marie Brown, Ghost I
#being human#annie sawyer#would u believe me if i said i actually meant to finish my 'monsters embody the possibility of failing' mitchell post and instead made this#if it seems incomplete thats bc i only used sceenshots i already had instead of rewatching and taking new ones where fitting bc im lazy#but god i love when being human leans into the whole gothic ~u are the house and the house is u~ storyelling angle#one day i'll make my annie post (this is the annie house post) and then it'll be even more appropriate but !!!#the house as horror !!!! the home as the place of violence instead of the shelter from it !!!#also annie not letting go of the house bc it was the last place she was a real person !!!#the house not letting go of her bc it stores and remembers everything she herself is incapable of remembering !!!#she is the house but also her own person but also that place is so intrinsically hers that to the others it IS her#(to some extend at least)#also owen not taking care of the house as he didnt take care of annie.#but also any and all parallels between mitchells later sometimes v agressive behaviour and owens abuse#the bristol house tainted by annies death and the welsh house tainted by the bt20....#wheres that one poem thats like if u were raised in a house w an angry man there will alwas be an angry man inside your house#and even if there isnt u invite him in#sickening. anyway these tags have deviated so extremely fucking far from the post sorry lads insomnia makes me ramble#once again i present u: me thinking abt a show that went on air fifteen years ago as if it had finished yesterday. enjoy#being human uk#cavetext#triothesis#caveweb
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idk how to even like. put this pain into words and i would normally vent about this shit on twitter, but the person its about follows me on there so like. anybody have skills for coping with the crushing realization that the person u love most in this world and have built ur life around sees ur current situation together as a temporary hurdle that's preventing them from their truest and happiest self which. is separate from u entirely? anyone know how to deal with this?
#live with my best friend in the whole entire world who. honest to god makes me the happiest person alive.#like im always waxing poetic about her in the tags on posts about platonic love#and i talk about her like she put the stars in the skies because for real it feels like she did for me#she is. the most important person in my life#and every day i feel grateful just to come home and sit with her#like honest to god i cannot imagine a future that is better than this#if i have a bad day i get to come home and my best friend in the world will make me laugh#what more could i ever ask for#but tonight we talked and she made it abundantly clear that. even if i do everything right#even if i'm the perfect roommate and the best friend i can be#in just over a year#when she's making enough money for it#she plans on moving into a place of her own#which like. makes sense for her. of course we were going to get to this point.#but i just. don't know what i'm going to do.#and it kills me that we're on different pages because for some reason i thought this was a long term thing#i thought we were going to move into a house together#i was just telling my coworker this week that we need to move into our forever home soon which was partially a joke#but also. even if i was making a million dollars a year.#i would still want to be here. with her.#or somewhere else. with her.#like it's so hard to imagine a future without her. it breaks my heart and scares the shit out of me.#and i know i can't afford it here. and i can't move in with strangers. and i'm working my dream job but i'm scared that i'm going to have t#give it all up and move back east because. i can't do this alone. and she's all i have. and all i ever wanted.#and she's leaving.#she doesn't want to be with me.#sry this is so fucking. ugh. idk. i just don't know what to do.#for real might just drop everything and move to chicago if it comes down to it ksdkfljdfs#its what sufjan would have wanted#fucked up terrible no good week
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#i hate that i'm like this but the girl we're hosting used my mug and it makes me irrationally angry#like#i didn't ever tell her ''hey don't use this mug because i have my own stuff and i don't like cross contaminating''#so i KNOW i have no right to be angry#and it coooouuld have been one of my family members who used it but i doubt it because they know i don't like sharing mugs and glasses etc#but either way this is just a symptom of how chaotic i feel in my own house and i hate myself for being like this#i never say anything because i KNOW its crazy people talk to be like ''hey that's my seat. why? because i always sit there and like it?''#and i know it doesn't affect anyone how the spoons are organized and how the plates are stacked and where the pots are stored#but its just infuriating to see things in places where (in my mind system) they don't go#i know it's the autism but that has never found me any sort of sympathy in my family (diagnosis or no diagnosis) so i can't say that#and if i skirt around it and say ''i like things a certain way and not having them like that causes me severe emotional distress''#it makes me seem controlling and abusive (which are things my mom has implied i am when i explain these things to her)#i know the real reason for these issues isn't our guest but also at this point she isn't our fucking guest because SHE'S BEEN HERE A MONTH#and she is clearly overstaying her welcome imo#i don't say anything because i'm not a mean person but i'm sure everyone around me can tell i'm stressed about something#i just need my space back but i don't even feel like i have a claim over that cuz mexican families are full of the ''my house my rules'' bs#which is untrue because a) the house isn't even owned by my parents anymore#(they made some stupid financial choices years ago and my uncle had to buy the house from them or risk foreclosure)#and b) we're all adults (except my brother obviously) and we all contribute however we can#so i should have some say in how i feel if i'm living here imo#and i am trying to make money however i can so i can move out soon#but just going out twice a week has me like this i can't imagine working a traditional job atm#(i did apply for a grant for autistic people of color so hopefully something will come of that)#anyways that was my rant i'm just really stressed and constantly on the brink of a meltdown#it's not this random girls fault#she just happens to be the final drop in my very very small bucket very often these days#(y'know because she's a fucking stranger in my house and i hate having to mask in my own home idk i'm awful i probably won't post this)
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mum and i were almost not able to buy our house because a real estate lawyer heard us casually say i'm autistic and alarm bells went off in her head, because she believed that meant i wasn't mentally capable of understanding what i was signing up for
#and she demanded a doctors note. which not how any of this works#theres no policy that works like that AND gps are not the people who are like#''yup this person sure is a person alright''#she just had heaps of prejudice and she let it affect her job#so a lady from one of those places that advocates for ND and disabled people tore her apart#she lost the 4000 dollars she was gonna be paid. and she got fired#and everybody else from that company that we spoke to was either appalled or pretending to be appalled about this#either way it worked out#i was so upset at the time because it was literally a week before it was time to move???#and i was so afraid of us losing all our progress#plus. yeah i was hurt by the insinuations and the attempted disrespect to my agency#also even if i was cognitively disabled... i think cognitively disabled people deserve to own houses too#i was a fucking adult and i managed to get to every gosh forsaken appointment to sign forms#and then do it all again because what i was signing didn't match what was on my birth certificate!#...not my fault - turns out the nurse wrote my fucking name wrong#anyways. i was exhausted but i did it damn it. so that bitch trying to rob us of our home??? fuck her#6 years later and the house is now 100% mine instead of 50%#and im gonna assume that bitch never got a job in real estate again#she was totally cool with me until she heard the word ''autistic''#and clearly pictured somebody... how do i put this... somebody with vacant eyes who smacks the side of their head when they're upset#not a bad thing by the way! hell i've been that flavour of autistic plenty of times. we contain multitudes!!!!#don't mean we don't deserve to own property. we live in a society!!! let us be a part of it#but yeah that was the most serious case of me being dehumanized due to what i am
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and its like. i cant even act the same towards them because that just goes against my moral code and will make ME worse as a person. that used to be what it was like and thats why i was so mean to irl friends in high school
#and its just. imagine being forced to act like youre on a retail shift your entire life#and the manager doesnt even do anything when the customers are grabbing at you throwing stuff at you and yelling at you belittiling you.#im on my own in this store#and these customers are with me 24/7 . i cant retaliate because its not who i am but there also no other defense theyll listen to#i need places to hang out during the day on saturdays and sundays its so hard surviving these days at home#at least chuck e cheese is scheduling me on weekend nights like thats literally so beautiful . thank you#i need a place to go during the day to escape it all#and there was this one friend i was beonding with and visited her house for a while and i thought i could use this as my escape finally but#turns out shes literally never free so spending time at her house couldnt really happen#and my other friend usually always works on the weekends as well#tldr its so hard being a soft spoken and patient person that understands everyone is human while i live with LOUD angry people that only#help people out to feel good or to benefit themselves#does it show that im A water sign and everyone else is a fire sign
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God, I regret this already.
#I tried everything#I couldn’t find a house or apartment to approve me#my friend had one for $2300 which I can’t afford on my own anyway but even if I could#her dad wanted first last secured it which is 7k and I have not even half that#I was going to try to stay with my mom for a few months to save but still iffy#I was going to stay with my mom for good but#she said she has to move in two months too because she’s been late on rent every time#and I legitimately don’t know if they’ll find a place because they’re broke and in a worse credit spot than I am#Inow someone with one room to rent that me and Kai could try to squeeze into with random roommate#but it’s only available Aug - Dec#my friend in Tampa offered me a room but then I’d have zero babysitter at all for Kai#and I found a random apartment complex in Orlando that’s brand new and more affordable and also takes this guarantor thing#where basically instead of a refundable security deposit to the complex you pay a non refundable one to them to guarantee your lease#but I still couldn’t get approved with chases income#but the apartment could get me in this week and I could have a year leae#versus me staying with someone for a month or two and being homeless#but what the actual fuck I’m so fucking scared right now#this town holds nothing for me personally#but my son has his school and friends and beater and dance and we’re close to everything and I do have family and a stable job#and I tried to get an RV but got denied the loan this is so fucking hard man#I’m about to give up every ounce of stability I have and move to a new city because I stumbled across a place that would take me right away#and I’m scared AF to be homeless#and I’m scared#I know I csn find a new job and I’ll have a place to live and I can work out childcare if chase and I work opposite schedules and my son is#5 and so adaptable#and we can always come back in a year and get back everything we gave up#it’s only a year#but I promised myself I was finally going to be free of him and on my own and I wanted to be proud of myself and the fact that my mom and#the RV and this house and all of this fell through crushed me#and I’m so disappointed and so afraid
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I really wish my mom would just fucking. respect the fact that I have no desire to be religious and that I don't know if I ever will be because it feels like she's subtly trying to convince me to come back and idk. I just kinda wish she'd respect the fact that I don't want to have anything to do with it
#like. when i first left the church she encouraged me to go to therapy to Get Everything Worked Out and i did !!#i went to therapy. did all the work. took a look inside and went ''yep. still queer. still nonreligious''#and left a more emotionally healthy + put together guy.#and when she asked me about it and i said i still was quite sure i didnt want to go to church#she was wringing her hands like ''oh...winter youre so twisted up and confused inside...you need to get all this figured out..''#and for a while i TRIED. but eventually i put my foot down and was like. Mom. i am not confused. i am not twisted up inside.#and she looked pretty upset ans flabbergasted because HOW could HER KID possibly FALL AWAY from the church and become a HERETIC!??#or something idk#so now we've reached a sort of impasse. where im semi happily living at home w them and not having to do religious shit#and she lets me. but idk she always brings up god and church and shit in conversation#and i dont even think she's TRYING to !! its just a really big part of her life and its important to her#so she tries to use it to comfort me or whatever. but it falls flat because its not important to Me. and she just cant comprehend that.#and idk. idk#im just rambling at this point but i also feel like. i cant really be the person i am around my family#because she's pulled me aside and made me promise i wouldnt do or say anything that could Lead My Siblings Astray#so i cant really talk about queerness. or my own experiences as a queer person. or how people should be able to choose for themselves#what they believe in.#and since im living in their house when im old enough to not be im afraid that if i break the rule she'll kick me out#and i do NOT have the money for my own place rn#and throughout it all there's this underlying feeling that she doesnt want my siblings to Be Like Me#which only reinforces the feeling ive had all my life of being the family black sheep. lol#anyway. sundays are particularly shitty in this regard because theyre Church Days.#so idk. im just thinking out loud rn#winter speaks#personal
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HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT I HAVE DRAMAAAAAAAA
So, you know how I JUST FUCKING BARELY signed a lease at a new apartment? Today I walked into the kitchen to (nicely) ask my landlord to get her shit out of the washer so I could do laundry (her sheets have been in there for 3 days), and I saw THIS SHIT on the counter
The note reads:
Everyone -- IMPORTANT
I have severe damage in roof. May be needing to have house temp severely lowered this winter. Don't know if could be mold.
Contractors are months (year) out although am working with a no-longer-contractor and have talked to one of the best known roofing contractors in [town].
[Below paragraph is underlined]
I am closing the house down and will be sending lease termination notices. Obviously you could leave earlier.
Dec. 20 will be last day.
[Scribbled out] Ridge vent has been leaking maybe since installed 10+ years ago.
HOLY SHIT. I GOT OUT JUST IN TIME.
Idk if y'all remember the fucking FIGHTING about fixing the leaking roof with my last landlord, but this time the leak is so bad we're all getting kicked out altogether.
I am SO FUCKING GLAD I already found a place. Fucking hell.
#why does this keep happening#this house isn't even that old. and the place i'm moving into IS old. i fucking hope i don't have roof leaking issues there. 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞#personal#(also yes i did originally take this photo to IMMEDIATELY send to the groupchat and then decided to also post here lol)#(groupchat is roasting her as we speak)#(i am sorry about her house but like. she doesn't fix things and she owns a bunch of property AND has a day job. she HAS money.)#(like i know she CAN fix stuff. she has the resources. she just doesn't do it.)#(and all her arbitrary rules..... she should NOTTTTTTTT have people living in her house. just don't do it if you have to have...#...a million little rules for everyone. just don't live with people.)#this situation is so bizarre idk what to make of it#i'm just lying here like.... oofffffffff. but also? hopefully it's a wake-up call. fix your damn house.#ESPECIALLY if you have people living here.#in the groupchat: 'also what is severely lowered temp bud it's already 50' YEAH. YEAH EXACTLY. WHAT THE FUCK.#'severely lowered temp' HAS to mean no temp at all or like. 40. it HAS to. the temp is already fucking freezing in here.#'also she could learn to write a note kicking people out a little clearer' YEAH IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO READ 😭😭😭😭😭
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