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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

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Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 3,644

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW

Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.

Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!

Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.

That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.

“It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”

It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”

“It’s so annoying, right?”

“Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”

Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”

“Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.

You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.

Had a great time tonight.

It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.

You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.

You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.

It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.

Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.

Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.

You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.

Maybe we could do it again sometime?

Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.

I’d like that.

Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.

Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.

That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.

You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.

That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.

Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.

“Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.

It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”

“Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.

Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.

The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.

There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”

“Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.

“Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.

“Do I even want to know what he said?”

“Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”

“We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”

He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”

You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.

Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

“Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.

As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.

“Yes, baby. Only you.”

“Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.

“You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.

“That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.

“MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”

That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”

“Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”

“It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.

It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.

Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”

“I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.

The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”

“Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.

Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”

“I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”

He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”

“Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”

You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction

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boymeetsweevil · 3 years

Text

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

#networkbangtan #btscreatorscorner #hyunglinenetwork #bangtan scenarios #bangtan fluff #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine

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monstersdownthepath · 2 years

Text

Monster Spotlight: Hangman Tree

CR 7

Neutral Evil Huge Plant

Bestiary 2, pg. 152

Wait, CR 7? Really? For a tree? Guys, what’s the problem? It’s just a tree! What? Why are you giving me bonuses to my Will saves? It’s just a-- oh! Even better! It’s just a treant, guys! I’m sure this friendly fellow will help us find our way out of this forest! Eh? What bones? I don’t see any bones around its trunk, what are you all talking about? Nevermind, I’m gonna ask it if it knows how to get out of here. Excuse me, mister treant? Could y--HURK

Capable of going for months between feedings, the patient Hangman Trees spend the majority of their time looking like harmless, vine-covered trees, only beginning to move at all when something substantial enough to pique their interest enters their 60ft Blindsight radius. Intelligent enough to plan their ambushes and plot around how dangerous their victims may be, the most insidious trick these carnivores have is pretending not to be dangerous at all.

Hangman Trees against singular victims may wait until its potential prey enters its massive melee radius (15ft of space + 15ft of reach) before attacking, but they’re intelligent enough to know when there’s multiple potential prey items nearby. When a group of victims draws close, they’ll often initiate by unleashing their Hallucinogenic Spores, a 50ft burst cloud of invisible spores that cause anyone who fails a DC 20 Will save to view the predatory plant as an ordinary tree... or, if it’s already started moving, as a harmless or even friendly Plant creature, typically a Treant. Such victims spend 2d6 minutes believing nothing is wrong even as its vines wrap around their necks, their minds convinced that this new best friend of theirs can’t possibly be the ones strangling them!

Yes, they gain a new save each round to shake off the effects, but even being directly attacked by the Hangman Tree doesn’t instantly shatter the illusion, it merely grants a +4 bonus to the save of whoever is currently being damaged. The spores specifically say it’s impossible to convince yourself to attack the Hangman Tree once you’ve fallen for its illusion, forcing affected victims to waste round after round striking out at random plantlife to search for the source of the vines even as it spreads its branches out over them to unleash more. A Hangman Tree can utilize up to three noose-vines each round, each one dealing only 1d6+7 damage at first, but Grabbing onto and constricting anyone they hit. Failing to escape the grasp not only causes the victim to take 1d6+7 additional damage each round, but the Tree can Pull victims 5ft in any direction (typically straight into the air) and, as one would expect, further Strangle them to keep them from talking. At all. A creature grappled by the Hangman Tree cannot speak for any reason, even to cast spells, so even if the illusion breaks for them, they cannot assist their allies in shaking off the effects of the spores until somehow they come free.

Taking 2d6+14 damage while being throttled is already a miserable experience, but then there’s the extra falling damage (up to 3d6) from being released! That’s the best-case scenario, though, because the fall damage is minor compared to the fate that awaits anyone the Tree grapples first. The first tasty morsel snared by the Hangman is always engulfed the moment it’s able to do so, the victim swallowed into an acidic interior that deals 2d6+7 Acid damage each round unless they manage to escape. While not especially difficult to brute force one’s way free (AC 16, 7 HP), anyone still suffering from the Hallucinogenic Spores will be unable to try and free themselves from the Hangman Tree’s stomach, as doing so requires attacking the thing. At best, you’ll have to figure a way out that doesn’t involve cutting at the interior, or else you’re stuck until you either make the save against the spores... or simply die from the damage.

As an aside, Hangman Trees will gleefully capture as many creatures as they possibly can, allowing them to ripen among its tangled vines like carcasses on butcher hooks until it becomes hungry again. This morbid larder, too, is hidden by the Hallucinogenic Spores, making for a disturbing surprise once the illusion shatters. It also has the side effect of drawing in carrion-seekers, which the Tree will gladly add to its collection. It’s a beautiful self-perpetuating system, really.

You can read more about them here.

#CR 6 to 10 #monster spotlight #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Wings in the Dark Chapter 5: Camaraderie

AN: More Cat and Mouse. I swear its gonna start to crescendo, guys, we’re almost there XD There’s just so much to establish!

Characters: Fem!Vampire!Reader, Levi, Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Language, Loneliness, Depressed Thoughts

Word Count: 8146

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Reader’s POV*

While it wasn’t the most shocking thing that had ever happened to you, being instated as a member, but not technically a member, of the Special Operations Squad was definitely up there on your list of most surprising things that had happened to you. The weird in-between position they gave you to try and mediate how unprecedented it was to have a rookie join Levi Squad after just one expedition may have been a glorified lackey, but it was still a position with Captain Levi’s Squad.

Of course, right now, that consisted of doing the menial chores, message delivery, and other small tasks like that, but you were still a part of the team. They’d only given you this aid position they’d made on the spot because you were so new, and it did a decent job of putting you at the bottom of the food chain until you were more seasoned. However, you were still considered part of Captain Levi’s Squad--you had your own private chambers and everything, which meant you wouldn’t have to worry about not waking up anyone while you snuck out of the barracks every once in a while to get something to eat.

Also, now that you were officially being placed with a squad, you knew what people you had to try and made friends with. Before you’d been hesitant--sure, you understood that the Scouts operated in a way that was going to make teamwork and camaraderie important, so you were going to have to be more social, but you still wanted to be careful about who you let get close. You still had an instinct to keep everyone at an arm’s length besides those you /had/ to keep close, which you had rationalized would include whoever you were put under and the rest of your squad.

While you’d known Levi was watching you and the rumors had been running rampant that a rookie would be joining his squad, you’d been well aware that he wasn’t watching you because he wanted to add you to the group--he was suspicious of you. That sparring match you’d had with him had tipped him off, and he hadn’t relented in his pursuit ever since then. In fact, when he’d told you that you were going to be a part of his squad, he didn’t look entirely pleased about it. Sure, Captain Levi was usually hard to read and usually appeared distant or unapproachable, but the look in his eyes had been...colder. It made you suspicious that having you on the squad had not been his decision, or at the very least it had been one he’d made despite his reservations.

Keep your enemies close, right?

Once it was on the table that this might be a position meant solely as an excuse to keep a closer eye on you, it made your skin crawl, and you approached every situation with caution. You had to watch every step, like you were walking across a tightrope and would drown if you slipped and fell into the waters down below.

When you’d joined the Scouts, you knew that it was going to be difficult to balance being a Scout with hiding your true nature, but this was far beyond what you had expected. It made you dearly wish that you had thrown that match back on the training grounds, that he’d never gotten a sense that you were hiding something so fiercely.

Soon, you were going to be kept up at night with an internal struggle to either stick it out and try to endure so you could do what you came here to do, or if you should just take off and slink back into the shadows.

But you couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that life, as much as it might have been ‘safer’ in a way. You wanted desperately to be here--but did you want it bad enough that you were going to throw all caution to the wind, risk the Captain getting too close to your secret. In the past, before you’d joined the military, you’d killed the people who came too close to exposing you. But that wasn’t an option, here. You knew how valuable Captain Levi was to the Scouts--humanity couldn’t afford to lose him, so you couldn’t afford to touch him. Your only choice was to play this god forsaken cat and mouse game and pray that you came out on top.

Thankfully, the other members of the squad weren’t aware of the cat and mouse you and Levi were caught up in--not yet, anyway. Though they were understandably confused and even a little irritated at the inclusion of a still-green rookie, even if it was as an aid. Maybe the aid position caused a bit more tension, because a new position had been created just so you could be added to the group.

Give it time, you told yourself as you continued cleaning your private room that had been assigned to you, currently working on cleaning the desk off until it had a polished shine to it. Even if Levi hadn’t added you to the squad because he necessarily wanted you here, you were still going to prove that you could belong here, if they would let you.

“Did you finish with the stables?”

“Yes, sir. Mucked out, equipment cleaned, horses fed, watered, and brushed, shoes cleaned, all of it.”

“What about cleaning inside, have you done all the tasks you were assigned?”

“All except what Oluo asked me to do. I haven’t got there yet."

"Well, get to it. And when you're done come down to the training grounds for some training."

"Yes, sir!"

As you walked away from Eld, your ears picked up on a passing comment he made to Gunther when he thought you were out of earshot.

“Is it just me, or is it frustrating how easily and quickly she tends to get all of her tasks done? I can’t even find anything wrong with it, so I can’t claim she’s rushing through it!”

"You too? I thought it was just Oluo complaining about that."

Just as you'd suspected. The others weren't pleased with your easy access to this position. They weren't going to say anything because they trusted Levi’s judgement and as far as they knew it was his decision, but that didn't mean they weren't going to be at least a little irritated. How long had it taken before they'd been added to Levi’s squad? How many expeditions, how much hard work? By all accounts, it looked like you'd had smooth and effortless sailing into a position among the elite.

The fact they kept having you do the shit chores was just a way to kick you back in the dirt and remind you that you were still a rookie, and they were the veterans with experience.

However, you didn't complain. You could do the jobs faster than anyone without loosing accuracy because of it. Not to mention you felt it might be cathartic for their frustrations. Though, now it seemed they had a new reason to be frustrated.

You'd tone it back to appease them, but Levi already knew what your full effort looked like with the cleaning jobs--he'd know you were holding back, and you highly doubted he'd appreciate that when it came to cleaning, knowing his standards.

Quickly, you made your way back inside and up to Oluo's chambers, stopping outside the door and giving a firm knock.

"Who's there?"

"It's L/N, you said you had a job for me to do?"

"It's about time you showed up. Get in here!"

After he'd officially invited you inside, you opened the door, stepping inside and expecting to see paperwork or supplies or something else you would have to deliver or put away.

Nope. Oluo was standing there with cleaning supplies presented in the middle of the room. You immediately knew where this was going, and even you could tell it wasn't going to end well.

"Start cleaning, rookie. I've got more important things I have to get done, and I want it shining by the time I get back," Oluo ordered, complete with a puffed out chest.

You were supposed to follow their orders without question, but you knew Oluo was taking advantage of that fact. Maybe he was hoping having you clean his quarters before Levi inspected them later today would help him look better to the Captain. But you were also certain that Levi would recognize that it was your work and not Oluo's

For Oluo's sake, since you were certain he would be the one getting in trouble, you pushed back slightly.

"Doesn't Captain Levi prefer if we clean our own spaces?" You asked as you picked up the broom. Oluo turned by the door, fixing you with the imitation of an expression befitting a superior who'd just heard a subordinate talk back.

"Huh? How long have you been here, rookie, compared to me?" Oluo challenged. You shrugged, turning back to the cleaning supplies and the room you were supposed to clean.

His funeral.

The window was open to let in natural light and try to chase away the gloomy atmosphere in your room, silence filling the space except for the birds outside and the scratching against the paper you were currently drawing on. Your eyes, however, were unfocused, looking past the piece you were drawing and instead getting lost in the sea of your depressed thoughts.

For three years you’d been back among people, mingling and being a part of society, but never had you felt so...ostracized. You were among people, but you weren’t close to anyone. Your peers thought you were a haughty perfectionist ice queen and were irritated by how easily everything came to you, Captain Levi was suspicious that there was something you were hiding and was watching your every move with a coldness in his eyes, and your new squad mates were currently using you as the gopher to dump all the chores they didn’t want to do onto you while giving you examining, dubious looks from a distance trying to figure out why you were even here.

You sat alone at meals, you didn’t go anywhere on your days off--the closest thing you had to a companion were the horses, and most of them were still frightened by you.

You wanted to be here, but...it was getting so hard just to be here. Was it really worth it if you were going to spend your days feeling like this?

On the paper spread out in front of you, you had a picture drawn from the mental image in your mind’s eye--a single flower in a barren spot surrounded by lush field. The sun shone everywhere else, but this single spot was cast in shadow. Despite the barren ground and the lack of sunlight, the flower was trying to bloom, partially budded, some petals trying to uncurl, but ice covered it’s petals and held prisoner it’s stem, restraining it in the icy chill, needing assistance but nothing around it willing or able to help.

You put down what you were drawing with, a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes as you headed over to your bed and stretched out on top of the neatly made covers, arms digging under the pillow you buried your face in before tears could overflow.

You were surrounded by people, but you’d never felt so lonely, and you wanted it to change. Even though you’d signed up for this and known it would be difficult, you couldn’t take living like this anymore. Something had to change. You didn’t know how you were going to keep your secret while trying to let people in enough to form bonds, but it was the only real option that you had.

The guys were all dubious of you, you could tell from overheard conversations and the looks in their eyes, but Petra...well, you thought if you were going to start trying to build a friendship somewhere, she might be the one to go to. She’d been a bit more...open, about the whole arrangement, and she was actually asking for help and trying to get a feel for you while everyone else seemed to be going out of their way to remind you that you were at the bottom of the food chain right now.

Starting tomorrow...you were going to try and be a companion and hopefully manage to find some friendship. Starting with Petra.

*Petra’s POV*

The mess hall was noisy as ever, making it a little surprising that Captain Levi was still sitting with them at the table after repeating the lecture he'd given Oluo later about doing his own cleaning. Now that Oluo had attempted to have the rookie clean his space and then pass it off as his own, the rest of them got to get the warning to do their own responsibilities without shoving them all off on the new girl.

Petra had felt bad that she seemed to be getting all the crap jobs nobody wanted to do and then some while the others seemed determined to make sure she knew her place, but she hadn't said anything because not once had the woman complained or looked the least bit upset by it. Until today, Petra had been unsure how to even approach her, something about her making her seem closed off and unreachable.

However, today she had approached Petra, quietly asking Petra if she would teach her the nuances for how everything was cleaned around here. Preferences of soaps and organization, what went where and the like. You could clean till everything shone like a new coin, bur preferences had to be taught or learned. She'd been aware of it, and she had been humble enough to approach Petra for answers.

It was only when she was approached that Petra suddenly realized how alone the woman seemed. She never ate with them--in fact she was certain she ate alone--and she was never seen around anyone from her years as a cadet, she didn't seem to leave headquarters to visit family, and if you needed to find her she was either alone in her room or with the horses in the stable. She was never with someone unless she was doing her job.

The thing that made Petra realize all this was how she was approached. The woman shifted her weight, a white knuckle grip on the broom in her hand despite visible restraint, her eyes fixed down and to the side, a slight tremble in her hand and a hunch of her shoulders like she was anticipating some negative reaction, or at least reluctance.

It wasn't right. She was part of their squad, and it was their job to make sure she felt included. Captain Levi must have felt that she was ready on some level to be here, and they were her comrades. At the very least, she should have a place among them--she shouldn't be so alone.

So, while everyone else was chatting as usual around the table, Petra kept an eye out for their new squad member. It took a while, but when the woman finally appeared and left the line to get her food, Petra attempted to catch her attention without the others noticing.

They locked gazes, and Y/N hesitated before she approached their table, making the others look up as she came astride the table.

"May I sit here?" she asked hesitantly, gaze flickering around at the others and lingering briefly on Captain Levi at the head of the table.

"Of course," Petra said instantly, gesturing to an empty seat beside her and flashing a look at the others daring them to disagree while Y/N was taking her seat. "It's about time you started sitting with your squad."

Her cheeks tinged pink in mild embarrassment, Y/N took a few bites of her meal, clearly uncertain about what to do next.

Well, if everyone else was just going to sit here in awkward silence, and Y/N wasn’t going to take the initiative because she wasn’t sure how, Petra would just have to do it herself.

“So, where are you from?” Petra asked her. It was probably the best, simple answer to get the ball rolling on conversation.

“A small town in Wall Rose--it tends to get overlooked, and it's usually quiet around there except the occasional scandal.”

“Do you have much family back home?”

“No, it’s just me.”

The way she said it was short, clearly ending the topic there, but she managed to not make it sound mean--just that she wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it, which made sense. Petra continued to chat with her, asking simple questions to try and learn more about her, basing some off her observations of the woman--like if she was good with animals. Apparently animals weren’t always that fond of her, but she had a soft spot for them despite some animals distaste of her. She thought she might be good with cats or birds, but hadn’t really had the opportunity to test her theory out.

After a bit of back and forth between Petra and Y/N about their lives and learning about one another, the others started to join in as well--aside from Captain Levi, who seemed content to just focus on his meal and listen while everyone talked around him. As the conversation flowed a little more naturally, Y/N started to loosen up and relax, taking charge of the conversation a few times to ask about the others as well as she bloomed from a closed off background character in a novel to a more outgoing and engaging individual. It was quite the change to witness. She still withdrew into herself with more personal questions, especially about her past before joining the Scouts, which gave Petra the impression that the Scouts were a sort of fresh start for the woman. She shared with them why she’d joined the Scouts, which none of them could deny was a valid enough reason after seeing her in action. She had skill, and if she wanted those skills to be put to use, the Scouts were arguably the best place for them, and the faction of the military with the strongest need for them. Besides, who didn’t want to feel useful? Unfortunately, many Scouts died, and some died so quickly it was easy to wonder if their deaths ever had any meaning to begin with, if it had been worth it. However, Petra had the feeling this one wasn’t going to be one of those recruits that appeared and disappeared without ever leaving much of a mark. She just might be around for a while, especially if she was going to take the time to learn from the elites she’d been placed with and stayed grounded, level-headed, and smart.

As the questions drifted away from the personal, in part because of Y/N’s continued reluctance to delve too deeply into the personal, they started peppering her with the twenty-questions kinds of inquiries. What were her likes and dislikes, favorites, hobbies, fears, aspirations, that kind of thing. Some she was able to answer relatively quickly, even if it wasn’t simple, such as having no clear favorite because she liked so many, and other times she hesitated, such as when she was asked aspirations, because she hadn’t given it much thought, being so focused on this current stage of her life.

“What about biggest fears?”

“Oluo!” Petra protested, giving him a dirty look. They were all eating, and this question alone could get extremely dark considering the horrors they faced every day outside the wall.

“What? It’s a legitimate question. Some people are scared of spiders, others heights--though you don’t get much of that one in the military, I think--it could be all kinds of things.”

"I think the answer to that is a little too morbid for dinner conversation," Y/N said with a slightly weak smile, which made Petra think it might actually be something to do with Titans. If it was, it was probably best they didn’t hear it, just in case.

"Nah, it's fine, we're sharing--so what is it? Fire? Dolls? Dead fish?" Oluo asked cheekily.

"Um...being buried alive, actually," Y/N answered, looking down and picking at her food.

"Damn, that is a pretty scary thought. Wasn't expecting that one," Oluo muttered. Petra wasn’t paying attention to him--she was reading Y/N’s body language, how she’d seemed to withdraw into herself and her hand was trembling as she pushed around the food left on her plate. It was most likely at the thought of this fear of hers, if Petra had to guess. The mental imagery alone was terrifying.

At the other end of the table, Levi was staring at Y/N intently, having noticed the same things, and a little more.

“Now that Oluo has officially tried to sabotage the evening, let’s try some gossip: I hear you had a knack for sneaking out in the Cadet Corps and never got caught. What were you doing? I’ve heard some interesting theories,” Gunther said with a perceiving glint in his eyes. Y/N sighed even as everyone’s attention centered on her.

“God damn those rumors are going to follow me for the rest of my life, aren’t they?” she mused, not denying that she snuck out as she took a slow drink.

“Well, Rookie? Care to share?” Oluo asked as she sat down her drink.

She turned to look at the rest of the group, and then with an unreadable expression and in a completely deadpan tone, stated, "I strip naked in the pale moonlight and conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection."

There was a heartbeat, and then snorts, chuckles, a ripple of amusement through the group at the joke.

"Rookie's got a sense of humor," Oluo mused.

Y/N’s lips quirked towards a half smile, taking another drink. "Wish I could say the same for you."

There was a bit more laughter this time, even as Oluo scowled, no one bothering to hide their amusement at the comment.

"And some snark, to boot," Gunther snickered as Oluo sulked. “But really, though, what were you doing?”

Y/N sighed, setting down her drink again. “It wasn’t...actually, you know what,” she said with a sparkle in her eye and a mischievous smile. “I hear there’s a pot for the theories. Place bets on it, maybe one day I’ll actually tell you. Maybe I won’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Oluo complained loudly.

“Now that’s just mean,” Petra said with a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head while Y/N settled back down, visibly proud of her teasing.

Caught up in their banter and companionable discussion, no one noticed how at the head of the table, laid back in his chair, Levi showed no sign of amusement, his gaze fixated on Y/N with a sharp, cold look.

*Reader’s POV*

After you’d taken your first steps towards developing a warmer relationship with your squad mates, things started to go a bit easier for you. You were still at the bottom of the food chain, and the responsibilities as an aid hadn’t changed, but you didn’t think you were getting as much shit dumped on you. It probably helped that Captain Levi had apparently given them a lecture about doing their own chores instead of getting lazy and shoving them all off on her.

For the most part, it was Petra that you were getting close to. The others were becoming cordial, and you had even approached Eld asking him if he could give you lessons on ODM gear technique after hearing he was quite skilled at utilizing the ODM gear. That seemed to have helped the relationship there--frankly, whenever you showed a bit of humility about still having a lot to learn, they warmed up a bit more.

It seemed there had been concerns that you would be an arrogant big headed pain in their asses with how quickly you’d shot into the elite squad, and showing them that you still considered yourself in a learning position and not above anyone helped assuage those fears.

Captain Levi...was as suspicious of you as ever. Except now you were around him enough to feel the chill in his gaze even after you left his presence. That was a relationship you weren’t sure you were in a position to improve. You’d given him plenty of reasons to be suspicious of you, but you were still trying your damnedest not to give him a reason to mistrust you. Maybe it would just take time to prove yourself in his eyes, but at this rate, it was looking like a /deep/ hole you were going to have to climb out of, and for some reason, it just kept getting deeper.

Since it was going to be the more difficult task, you resolved to worry about making a better relationship with Captain Levi later and instead focus on improving the relationship with your squad mates. Firstly, you didn’t want to be a kiss ass, especially cause you knew it would be obvious. Second, ideally by the time you set about improving your relationship with the Captain, he might have warmed up a bit to you.

At the very least, it would be nice if that chill wasn’t in his gaze anymore.

Right now, Petra was the closest thing to a confidant and friend that you had. After you had initially approached her about learning the nuances for cleaning, she’d taken the initiative to help you learn the ropes and adjust to the other nuances of being in Levi Squad, which involved a lot of dos and don’ts. She’d even pulled you aside one evening and sat you down so she could teach you how to properly make Captain Levi’s tea how he liked it, so that if or when he asked for it--and apparently he eventually asked everyone at some point, at least to gauge their tea making skills--you would be ready. You’d been down in the kitchen for a surprisingly long time for that one, since apparently Levi liked his black tea made a very specific way, and additives weren’t usually his preference, so there would be no masking any off taste.

Shortly after, you’d decided to let Petra know about your secret little garden with your tea making herbs. You’d gone when you both had some free time to spare, crouching down beside the garden and talking with her about the different herbs for your blends you’d added and why, complete with a prepared excuse about why the white sage was so far away from the rest and why you wore gloves when handling the plans at all times.

The white sage you told her needed to stay separate because it was aggressive and you didn’t want it taking over the smaller herbs, when you really kept it separate because it burned at the touch and you didn’t want to risk even accidentally brushing against it while you were working on this hobby of yours. As for the gloves, it was the same concept--it let you handle the sage safely without harming yourself, though you told her it was for cleanliness and to keep your natural oils off of the tea herb plants.

As you’d chatted about the herbs in your garden and potential additions (With Petra suggesting adding the plants necessary to make some black tea blends of your own), you’d caught a familiar scent on the breeze, which led you to hone your senses on the individual’s breathing and heartbeat. They were staying a safe distance away so as not to be noticed, but close enough that if something happened they would be there in an instant. They were tense and cautious, listening intently to what was being discussed.

It seemed Captain Levi had reached the point he didn’t trust you alone with the other members of Squad Levi in places that were hidden from the public eye. Your best guess for his presence was that it was out of concern for Petra, wanting to make sure the other woman was truly safe in your presence.

Once again, you understood his cautiousness, and he wasn’t wrong to be cautious...but the level of distrust still cut.

After about a week or so spent developing a stronger bond with your new squad mates, as the time for another feed drew closer, you decided to confide in some of your concerns with Petra regarding Captain Levi--that you felt you might have made a bad impression on him early on and wanted a way to thaw some of the ice between you two that wouldn’t look like bribery or like you were trying to kiss ass. You’d tossed a couple ideas around, already reassuring her that you were already intending to let time tell and let your own personality and abilities do most of the work, but that the chill was getting a little too uncomfortable on your end for you to keep going without making some kind of first step.

With an upcoming holiday and a debate about the best approach, you’d eventually settled on putting together a small gift of personalized tea blends. Since you didn’t have anything mature in your garden for black tea, you had to go into town to get missing ingredients, going with Petra to get her opinion on the best leaves, best tea bags, any additions that you didn’t have in your garden back with the Scouts or that hadn’t matured enough to use anything from it yet like your rosebush. After you had all of your materials, you’d headed back to HQ and stowed yourselves away in the kitchen to get to work.

Petra had the idea to make a couple different variations--there would be plain black tea, of course, but you’d also had some personal blends that you two decided on, mostly based off of Petra’s experience making Levi his tea when asked to, and her past observations of the few times he’d added something to it. You would have to divide and label the different teas in the container, but it would make it a little more personal.

However, you got her attention when you brought out the white sage, gloved hands grinding the herb up into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle.

“What’s that for?” she asked with a slight frown, watching you intently grinding at the white sage to make sure it was all powder and there weren’t any chunks left.

“I’m going...to add a light dusting of the white sage over the tea bags. Hopefully not enough to alter the taste, but it will still be in there,” you murmured, covered fingers running through the powder to check how fine you’d made it.

“I know there’s superstitions about white sage cleansing of evil and bad spirits, but I know the Captain isn’t, and you didn’t take me for the superstitious type. I just figured you had a fancy taste in tea,” Petra mused. You almost snorted, but stopped yourself short considering you were currently directly over the powdered sage and didn’t want it to go everywhere.

“While I’m sure the superstitious intent of cleansing and warding off evil adds a bit more personal good intent, the short version is that it’s also supposed to do wonders for your health. At least according to that book that’s still stashed in my desk,” you chuckled.

“I didn’t know that...a fine addition, then. You really pay attention to that herbology book of yours,” Petra quipped with a friendly smile, which you returned before setting the white sage aside for later, when your tea bags were finished.

Though only you would know it, if he kept the tea and used it frequently--which was fairly likely with how much tea he drank--then he would have white sage in his system frequently. That alone would protect him substantially from any other vampires lurking in the darkness. You couldn’t predict the actions of other vampires, especially with how impulsive they could sometimes be, but if you were this deep in the Scouts, you would rather be safe than sorry, especially if someone with ill intentions managed to work their way in.

Sure, white sage helped with general health, but the real reason you were adding it was for your own peace of mind to help protect Captain Levi. Why not take the opportunity to do so now that it had presented itself. If you were in the position to, you would give similar gifts of secret protection to more than just him, but you only had so much white sage, and right now, he was the one you had an excuse to do this for.

Now you just had to hope he would accept it.

*Levi’s POV*

As much as Erwin had a point about being able to keep a closer eye on L/N by having her in his squad, Levi was finding the arrangement to be...complicating. The way she presented herself, interacted with the others, the hard work she was putting in, he kept finding himself softening towards her because of it. She was a good soldier who truly put in the effort and then some, and she was quickly growing on the rest of the team. She was observant and thoughtful, and she paid close attention to the needs and preferences of the people around her. She wasn’t boastful or arrogant, and apparently was trying to learn something from every member of the squad. Petra had already taken her in like the natural mother hen she was and was around her quite often, but L/N could be seen around the others as well, just not as much.

For fuck’s sake, she’d even befriended his goddamn horse--he’d caught her in the stables sneaking him some oats and getting playfully nuzzled in return. From her track record, he knew she had to have put in the effort for that to happen, too, considering the horses started off at least spooked by her.

But he knew she was hiding something. He couldn’t ignore the signs he’d picked up on until now, how she dodged the personal and tried to keep her past hidden and buried, couldn’t forget the smell of the Underground and blood on her cape, her lack of a past, her unexplained, effortless natural skills, the regular sneaking out to do who knew what. Maybe it wasn’t as insidious as he kept thinking it might be, maybe he should ease up a bit instead of freezing her out and treating her like an already convicted traitor. But he couldn’t shake this feeling that whatever she was hiding was far from innocent, and he didn’t want to risk the betrayal, or getting his squad any more mixed up in it than they already were.

Though how well they were starting to take to her and how she was already being included into the fold, he was starting to get the sense that he was on a time limit before uncovering her as a traitor or something else terrible would cause unexpected damage.

Of course, he could take the paranoid route and assume that it was all clever, carefully planned movements, actions, and words meant to manipulate everyone around her into trusting her and letting their guards down. Unfortunately, not only was that extremely paranoid, but she didn’t lack the sincerity behind much of what she did like certain psychopaths he’d met in the past. She was very clearly hiding things, and she knew she was being watched, but her sincerity didn’t ring hollow because of it.

Fuck, he hated being in this position. And he really hated that he’d agreed to Erwin’s idea to put him in this situation. Even he knew he was being especially cold to her as if it would help put some distance between himself and the warm individual who was working her ass off for him and his squad in case the worst happened. If he was wrong, though, and what she was hiding wasn’t as malicious as he felt it might be, then he was going to have a lot of reparations to deal with going forward, especially since she was already on the fast track to be a part of his squad for a long time moving forward so long as she continued to survive the expeditions.

It would be so much easier if she just came clean. They wouldn’t have to do all this back and forth, cat and mouse, and they could move on. Unfortunately, even though she knew she was being watched and Levi was suspicious, she wasn’t saying anything beyond that comment she’d made the night before the expedition. Just another reason to believe whatever she was hiding was ugly.

There was a knock on his door, and his gaze flickered up to the shut door across from his desk, a faint frown on his face and Erwin’s findings about L/N spread out in front of him as he was in the middle of contemplating next moves.

“What?” he asked, squinting slightly at the door.

“It’s Y/N L/N. May I come in, Captain?”

Instinctively, Levi covered the documents he’d been looking at with anything that didn’t have to do with her, from supply shortage lists, reports from Hange and Erwin about the Scouts in general, anything but what he was looking at about her, knowing she had a sharp eye and not wanting to risk her seeing just how much he was aware of.

“Fine, come in,” Levi muttered, arm lying against the desk as the door opened after he spoke, and L/N came in hesitantly, something in hand.

A delivery, then. It was too much to hope she’d come to finally confess her secret to put an end to their unspoken chase. A pity.

As she approached, Levi noticed that she was rather fidgety, obviously nervous or at least a little embarrassed, and she was clutching the tin box in her hand rather rightly. What the hell was this about that suddenly she was a nervous cadet instead of the relatively calm and steady individual he’d been chasing secrets over up until now?

And then he remembered what day it was.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me...

As understanding lit up in his eyes, he held up a hand. “If this is an attempt at a bribe, L/N--”

“It’s not,” she said firmly, and Levi had to give credit to the balls she had to cut him off like that. She didn’t even seem to regret it, plowing forward before he could start down the path of rejection again.

“It’s a gift, no strings attached or anything like that. Petra and I put it together, it’s for the holiday...and it’s also partially a thank you, on my part,” she said before taking a deep breath, setting the box down on his desk neatly on a clean space front and center before stepping away. “I know I haven’t made the best impression, and you didn’t have to put me with your squad in any capacity, but you did, and I intend to make sure it’s not something you end up regretting.”

It seemed they were both well aware of the game they were trapped in, and she was well aware of her position. He had to give her credit for not bolting, if she knew the position she was in and how much scrutiny she was under. Either she didn’t feel what she had to hide was that serious, which wasn’t likely with how hard she was trying to hide it, or she was that confident in her abilities to keep the truth hidden.

He still wasn’t sure he could entirely believe that this wasn’t a bribe, though. It could very easily be taken as one, or at least a thinly veiled attempt to get him to like her--or at least not be as cold with her. And she’d involved Petra. It was almost like she’d name dropped the other woman in order to prevent him from immediately rejecting the gift, because it wasn’t just her that had put effort into it.

Levi stared her up and down intently, eyes narrowed slightly out of suspicion as he tried to gauge her intentions and sincerity. After a few tense moments where she simply endured his piercing stare without so much as a tremble--there was the collected individual he’d seen up until now--he looked away, down at the papers across his desk.

“If that’s all, you can go,” he said bluntly as a way of dismissal. She was lucky he wasn’t telling her to take it back. He wasn’t openly accepting it, either, he was still going to decide what to do with it, but he wasn’t sending it back with her, either.

It was the closest she was going to get to accepting a gift right now.

L/N snapped a salute, apparently deciding it was better not to say anything and to just take the semi-win and leave. Once the door shut behind her, Levi waited a few more moments before he put the random papers he’d grabbed back where they belonged, pulling the tin close so he could get a look at what was inside now that she’d left.

Opening the tin, the fragrance that escaped immediately told him what the gift was--black tea, but a variety of different blends. And it was good tea, too, if the scent was anything to go by. Groups of the tea bags were sectioned off, labeled by the variant they were, such as the one blend that included lemon, or the one that seemed to have blackberries in it. The tea bags were definitely homemade, telling him the blends were specially made by her and Petra, thought going into the ingredients. There was a white powder dusted over all the tea bags that turned out to be white sage upon closer inspection.

An odd choice...especially since it was on every tea bag and not certain blends.

The wild thought crossed his mind that they might be poisoned, and he scowled, attempting to brush aside the paranoia with the thought that it would be far too bold and obvious of a move, especially with Petra helping put it together. He doubted she would have been able to get such a thing past Petra, too, considering the woman’s experience making Levi’s tea.

I’m going fucking crazy, he thought to himself as, despite his rationalization, he pulled out one of the tea bags and started methodically pulling it apart piece by piece to make sure there wasn’t anything fatal slipped into the homemade blend. He made sure to avoid touching it as little as possible so it was still usable when he was done, shifting through the ingredients in the blend and making sure he recognized every one.

Nothing suspicious about it. Aside from the odd choice of white sage.

If it really was meant to be a bribe, though, did he want to take it? He didn’t want to waste the tea, so he wasn’t going to just throw it out. He could re-gift it to Hange or Erwin, but he knew that would be a slight, and L/N hadn’t been the only one to make it--Petra had helped.

Dammit…

He’d just have to let it sit there until he could figure out what he was going to do with it. He could speculate on conspiracy theories about what it was meant to be, if it really was anything more than a gift, until he figured out how he was going to handle it.

It really could be what she said, though--a gift for the holidays and a thank you, maybe even a peace offering in the hopes things wouldn’t continue to be so tense between them. The contention would continue, though, until he found out what she was hiding.

Levi settled back into what he’d been doing before she came to his office, looking over the details Erwin had provided him, a small frown on his face as he looked over official documents and police reports that were roughly forty years old about a double homicide in the town that had spawned local legends and horror stories to frighten children. Why was this included in the report Erwin gave him? One of the two victims was the girl that L/N shared a first name with, the only thing resembling a tangible connection to the town she claimed as her hometown that Erwin could find.

He was going to have to talk to Erwin and try to get a day or two off so he could go investigate in person. He needed more information than what was in these reports, and he would only find what he wanted by going there in person.

Once more, there was a knock on the door, this time followed immediately by a familiar voice calling, “Captain?”

Ah, this was a meeting he’d been waiting for.

“You can come in, Petra,” he called, finally putting away Erwin’s reports in a safe place as Petra entered the room and headed for Levi’s desk. She didn’t bother asking why he asked her to meet him, simply took a seat and waited for him to speak.

“What do you think about our new member?” Levi asked after he got settled in his seat. Petra’s surprised eyes wandered to the gift still sitting on the desk, a questioning look in her eyes even though she complied to answering his question.

“Do you mean in skills or compatibility?” Petra asked for clarification after a moment’s hesitation.

“Compatibility.”

He was already well aware of her skills--she wouldn’t have even been placed as an aid in the squad if she didn’t have skills to become one of the elite. Skill was one of the first things he looked at when choosing squad members.

Petra seemed even more confused that he was asking after her personality more than anything, but again, she didn’t question him.

“She’s quiet and reserved, for the most part, but after spending a couple weeks with her, once you manage to get her to open up she has a warm and caring personality. She’s a little socially timid, though, I’m sure you’ve noticed; like she’s thinking of how she should act before she does or says something. At least at first, before she gets more comfortable and gets into the flow of conversation.”

Petra paused to consider, a small frown on her face. “She’s a creature of habit, that’s for sure--she’s always wearing the same necklace, all the time--I’ve never seen her without it, and there’s certain places she’s always at during certain times of the day. I’m a little worried about her health, though. I didn’t notice it at first, but she hardly seems to eat. She doesn’t get much on her plate, and she’s always smuggling things that are safe for horses to eat to the stables to bribe the horses instead of eating it herself. She doesn’t seem affected, not yet anyway, but I’m still worried about it.”

Taking the mental notes for later in case that information proved important, Levi pressed a little further. “What about the others? It seems like she’s fitting in well.”

Petra nodded. “She’s getting lessons of some kind from almost everyone, and she’s been a lot better about being social. She’s making a genuine effort to be a part of the squad, and to be perfectly honest, I like having her around.”

“Anything else?”

Petra’s gaze flickered over to the box sitting on the desk again. “If it’s not too presumptuous, Captain--I don’t know what impression she made when you two first met. She mentioned it may not have been the best first impression, but...she really is trying to be worth the chance she’s been given to be a part of this squad, and her attempts appear genuine to me. Perhaps give her another chance to make a better impression.”

Levi didn’t answer her, and he kept his expression unreadable so she wouldn’t see his reaction to her words. It was more incentive for him to close this messy chapter, and it helped clear up his thoughts on how to act going forward if this secret didn’t turn out to be something crazy like treason or murder.

“Thank you, Petra. You can go, now,” Levi finally answered in an indifferent voice. Petra got up and gave a quick salute, then quietly left the room without any further comment. Once she was gone, Levi got to his feet with a slight sigh.

He needed to see Erwin.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

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ellewritesathing · 3 years

Text

Infernal IX

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 2k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 9

A/N: sorry for dropping of the face of the earth!! i’ve been super overwhelmed with uni but here we are 💕 enjoy the angst

When you went to her for help to face the Absolute Dark, Lilith had told you that you could feed on the dark and absorb its power. Even after unbinding your powers, you were left with more power than ever before. You were warned about the dangers of power, but no one told you how consuming it would be. There wasn't a moment that went by that you didn't draw on the Darkness, and almost all you could think about was testing the limits of your power. Every day was a new attempt at mastery, sometimes in the form of controlling a jerk who went too far and other times by tearing through the pages of a grimoire. You'd missed school. You hadn’t talked to your friends in days. For the first time in your life, you were selfish.

You thought Caliban would have liked the new, rebellious version of you better - Lilith certainly did - but he’d been acting strangely ever since the incident at the Paramount. He was more closed-off with you than before, more hesitant with what he said or did to you. At first, his concern for your safety was amusing, but now it just infuriated you. You felt watched and alone even when you were with him.

If he didn’t trust you anymore, then Caliban should just leave.

The flame on the wick exploded, and you cursed as you shook out your burnt palm and scowled at the ruined ritual in front of you. Exploring the Celestial Realm would have to wait.

“Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound upon a wheel of fire.”

“That mine own tears do scald like molten lead.” With a sigh, you lowered your palm to your side and turned to face the familiar voice in the corner of your room. “King Lear.”

Caliban’s mouth turned up into a smile. “You’ve been reading.” He leaned easily against your doorframe, seemingly forgetting how your last interaction had blown up.

“I’ve had time,” you said. You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked closer. “What are you doing here?”

Caliban shrugged and stepped closer. “Quiet day in Hell. I thought we could talk.”

“And what do you want to talk about today?”

Caliban reached a hand out to the side of your neck, but you didn’t move. His touch was frosty. “Theo says you haven’t been at school. He was worried about you.”

Your voice caught in your throat. The Darkness stirred at the idea of your friends talking about you behind your back. “I didn’t know you two were so close.”

“Well, since Rosalind is dating Huckleberry Finn, so Theo is my favorite…” Caliban sucked in a breath when you didn’t respond to his joke. He dropped his hand and looked down for a moment. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

“Your offer to fix me?”

“That isn't what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.” You poked his chest angrily. “Because you think there’s something wrong with me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” Caliban’s easy sense of calm faltered as he reached for your hand. He wasn't used to being vulnerable or trying so hard. “Please, will you just listen to me for a moment? This much Darkness is dangerous. It’s changing you.”

“Have you ever thought this is how I’m supposed to be?” You stepped closer and lowered your voice. “I’m Lilith's heir. I’m made of darkness.”

“This isn’t who you are.”

“Yes, it is!”

The candles behind you reignited, their flames exploding to touch your ceiling. You ripped your hands away and stumbled back. Even with all the arguing you'd done and all Darkness in your veins, you’d never yelled at Caliban before then. You breathed heavy, unsteady breaths, trying to get your heart to stop racing and your hands to stop shaking.

Despite his furrowed brow and stormy eyes, Caliban was rooted to the spot just in front of your door. His hand twitched to help you, but he didn’t make any other movements.

“There is nothing wrong with me, do you understand? I’m not broken.”

Caliban’s lips parted, but lightning cracked in your room before he got the chance to speak. The candles were snuffed out in the blinding light, and for a moment, the room was deathly still. The hair on your arms stood on end.

Lilith’s cry brought you back to reality. She clutched her ginormous belly in one hand and clung to one of the minions with her other. When she opened her eyes, instead of explaining, she zeroed in on Caliban. “What is he doing here?”

“He was just leaving,” you said before he could answer. As angry as you were with him, you weren’t going to let your mother hurt him.

Caliban smiled, but it wasn’t as warm as before; his smile was something rueful and tight-lipped. He bowed, twirling his hand as he did, and said, “As you wish,” before disappearing in Hellfire.

It would have hurt less if he stuck a dagger in your chest and twisted.

Lilith screamed again as she crumpled to her knees. Glaring up at you, she forced out, “Something’s wrong with my baby. Take me to Zelda Spellman.”

---

Growing up, it had always been you and your dad. He taught you how to tie your shoes, tried an awfully intricate hairstyle for your first day of school, and read you a story every night before bed. As much as you loved him, it always felt as though your family was missing something. Having long given up on your mom ever coming home, you asked him if you could have a little brother. He promised that one day, when you’d probably forgotten that you asked in the first place, you’d get a little brother.

It was an easy lie to get you to stop asking about having a family - except, as you held the sleeping lump in your arms, you realized that your dad never lied to you. This perfect, troublesome little lump was all you’d ever wanted.

“What do you want to name him?” Lilith asked. You turned away from the window to face her as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She winced slightly as she did, more out of annoyance than pain.

“What?”

Rolling her eyes, she repeated, “What do you want to name him?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Looking down at his face, it was hard to believe he came into this world without a name. It was hard to believe that you’d only had him a few hours at most. “Michael?”

“Less angelic,” Lilith critiqued, taking a long sip from the healing elixir Hilda had given her. Her disdain for herbalism was clear on the look of her face.

You huffed, rocking slightly on your heel to keep him sleeping. “His name is Adam.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought about it, sounding offhand but packing a punch. Lilith’s grip on the glass turned her fingers bone white. After an icy second, she repeated the name to herself. A wicked smile covered her features. “Adam,” she hummed. “I could agree to that, on the condition that-”

A knock sounded at the door and Lilith froze. Whoever was outside knocked again and you heard Zelda mumbling as the door handle turned and Lilith told them to come inside. She pulled you and Adam closer to her side. Uncharacteristically patient for her, Lilith waited for the witches to shuffle inside and explain that the Lords of Hell were asking to pay tribute to Adam.

The Uninvited had been the Darkness' family. When they were trapped in the alternate reality of Sabrina's dollhouse, the Darkness had lashed out with a white-hot fury, pushing angrily at your ribs and trying to break out. The thought of Adam being taken away from made the Darkness just as angry, but the scary thing was that it made you even angrier.

“Pay tribute?” Lilith scoffed, reaching to take Adam from your arms. Reluctantly, you let her take him. “They are here for one reason and one reason only: to kill my baby.” Before either of the Spellmans could respond, she added, “The baby you just delivered, Zelda Spellman.”

Zelda knotted her hands together. “Very well. Let’s give them the welcome they deserve.” Turning to the witches, “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.”

“Actually…” you stepped forward and tilted your chin up. “I’d like to have a word with them.”

Zelda faltered for the first time in all the years you’d known her. She might have known about your powers, but it must have been difficult for her to process that the child that brought her dandelions each spring was a demon. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “We will be right beside you.”

With a nod of your own, you led the way to the Academy gates. Your chest buzzed at the idea of being one of these witches, butterflies fluttering through the Darkness with all the excitement. Standing in front of the Lords, you clenched your tingling fingertips. They were as unpleasant to look at as the day you met them.

“What do you want?”

They looked at each other for a moment before one of them nodded and the other said, “Word has reached the Infernal Palace that a babe was born of Lucifer’s concubine, Lilith. We come bearing gifts?”

“Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?” With each word, you took a step down the gates. Pointing a finger at the gifts in their hands, you asked, “With gold, frankincense, and myrrh instead of these … trinkets?”

The other one pulled the box close to himself. Asmodeus, if you remembered right. “Bite your tongue, you insolent child. We come at the Dark Lord’s behest.”

You tilted your head to the side. Letting the Darkness seep into your veins, you told him. “Bite your tongue.” He frowned, blinking slowly. “I said: Bite your tongue, and because you didn’t do it right the first time, now I want you to bite it off.”

His voice rose, but all that came out were a few strangled noises before Asmodeus’ eyes glazed over, the box fell to the ground, and blood oozed out of his mouth. He spat his tongue into his hands, coughing and trying to speak, as Beelzebub cursed you.

He didn't get very far before Darkness tinged your vision as you turned to him. You didn’t have to speak this time to control him, just wave a hand and watch him fall to his knees.

“We will not leave-” he grit his teeth as he struggled against the weight of your will “-without the babe.”

Bending down, you grabbed one of the horns on the top of his head to pull his face up to meet your own. “No.” You smiled. “No, I don’t think you’ll be leaving here at all.”

You threw his head to the side and took a step back, watching Asmodeus choke on his own blood and Beelzebub writhe. The Darkness filled your body, and the world grew so still that your heart didn’t dare disturb it by beating. In a cold, distant voice, you recited your most familiar spell.

“Ater ignus, fusce fume.” Beelzebub yelled. You clenched a fist to force his mouth shut. “Te evoco ut potentium tuam monstres.” A spark ignited, right between each of their shoulder blades. “Cupidibus flammis hic veni.” The flames licked their backs, growing taller and darker by the second. “Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo.” The puddle of Asmodeus’ blood caught alight, illuminating his wretched face as it burned. “Lucem tenebrasque tuas monstra. Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the Darkness consume all three of you. “Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora.”

The flames erupted in front of you, blinding your eyes and knocking you off your feet. You were dimly aware of the witches screaming your name and the rush of heels against cobblestones as something sticky and cold dripped down your face. Not tears. Or blood.

Only Darkness.

Tagged: @caliban-is-my-girl @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @music-movies @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @olivia-west-allen @sweetrogers @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24 @sophia-of-sass-gard @insomniac-nerd-posts-things (struck through wouldn’t tag)

#Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #caos #caos rewrite #Infernal #Caliban #caliban x reader

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

Askplosion #12 2/4:

.:New Miraculous Asks:.

Anonymous said:

Can people just STOP calling Marinette a "stalker"? Like, seriously? Especially TV Tropes. They have her listed under the trope for "Stalker With A Crush" and even have a video source of her(from Copycat) which was taken WAY out of context. They also listed her under "Stalking Is Funny If It Is Female After Male", which IS an existing double standard, but Marinette is still not an example and wouldn't be even if she WERE a stalker, because Wayhem's stalking actually WAS played for laughs!

Granted he was stalking another male and we don't know if he has a crush on him(but if he did it would be...unfortunate), but it's still an example. Plus, they claim that Volpina is about her learning her lesson regarding her stalker tendencies, but that no matter how many times she learns it, it never seems to stick. Yes, because everything is Marinette's fault and she's the stubborn shallow bitch who needs a kick in the ovaries, it's not, you know, the writers making her look bad/OOC!!!

THIS. ALL OF THIS.

Oh my god, I cannot tell you how infuriating it is to see “stalker” get thrown around like that. I would need two hands to count the amount of words that have lost meaning to me because people throw them out wildly and without any self-control. Stalkers engage in far more aggressive and obsessive behavior than Marinette, and usually also feature them harrassing whoever they’re stalking (such as calling them a lot), and they also never stop when they’re asked to. Marinette doesn’t fit the description of harrassment at all; Chat Noir does more than her and I don’t even call his behavior “harrassment” because that’s another word that’s lost all meaning by now and I wouldn’t use it in the first place.

Anyway, I think the Wayhem example is valid because Marinette’s crush on Adrien is written very much like a celebrity crush, so it’s similar territory.

On the note of “Volpina,” I do not understand it considering that Tikki was all on board with Marinette following Lila for the sake of getting the book back; that was one of the cases where there was an alternative motive out of just “follow Adrien” (which is not really something we see Marinette frequently doing; usually when we see her watching Adrien, it’s because she wants to approach but can’t bring herself to).

And yeah, most of the time, it’s just the narrative. The show basically puts it all on Marinette to solve all her personal problems (while constantly piling more stuff onto her) instead of getting active encouragement (no, eye rolls, verbal jabs, and groans do not count) from her friends and Tikki.

Like, what am I supposed to expect from Marinette when her friends still actively support Adrienette? By supporting Adrienette, regardless of the comments they make, they’re supporting Marinette’s behavior. Same with Tikki.

Anonymous said:

Have you noticed that with love interests of Marinette and Adrien, it's always the girls who like Adrien who are shallow, mean bitches and competition to Marinette(like Lila, Chloe, Kagami at first), while the boys who like Marinette are nice, friendly, and have no competition between each other whatsoever, sometimes not even knowing there IS competition(Adrien, Luka, Nathaniel). It's just really unfair and sexist because it's like girls can't be civil/friends and must fight over a guy.

That’s been a common topic of salt for a long while, yeah, I just don’t talk about it much.

It’s a difficult subject because I’m the type who can’t hold it against the guy characters (so I won’t dislike Kagami for “being similar to Chloe/Lila in terms of aggressiveness,” for example) because it feels wrong to, but I can hate the trend itself.

It’s also doubly unfair because Marinette’s crushes blip away quickly (like Nathaniel and Nino) while Adrien’s crushes stick around specifically to upset Marinette, so it’s like the show is saying, “if there’s a character who loves/supports Marinette, they gotta either stop or leave” (I’m pretty sure I got a “Didn’t Need Burrow” about the narrative sending Luka away and I don’t doubt it).

Anonymous said:

Personal Heacanon: Marinette and Chloé used to be friends until Marinette found out what Chloé (and Sabrina) has been using her commisions (mostly elaborate traps "to guard off thieves") for. This is why Chloé has it out for Marinette specifically. This is why everyone stood by as it happened. This is why she hates liars. This is why her "friends" are so casual at making jabs at her self-stem (they never believed she never knew what Chloé was truly up to). And also why Lila had it so easy at gaslighting everyone againts her (she's "relapsing" and it's easy to think she "deserves it").

Dang. That’s intense.

Yeah, Punch has given quite a few ideas about Marinette and Chloe previously being friends if I recall correctly. I like the idea even if I never use that kind of idea myself.

Anonymous said:

I feel like Adrien could be a really cool character if they focused less on romance? If that wasn’t his only motivation, and they developed his friendships more, and they didn’t have this entitlement. I also would like more actual friendship in regards to adrien & marinette? And him actually having interest in her but denying it bc he thinks he can only like ladybug. I feel like the sexism of the creators/writers are seeping into the character a lot and ruining it, too... It makes me really sad.

I’m hoping Adrigami will help adrien sort out a lot of his stuff bc Kagami doesn’t take any crap, and I actually really like their relationships, but I don’t have much hope. I would love for the show to use her and this relationship as a way to call out and develop adrien, but I doubt that will happen bc that would mean acknowledging his flaws. It’s just disappointing, really....

Yeah, Adrien could’ve been interesting, especially if they used Adrimi to its full potential, but they don’t. The show also has a history of letting Chat Noir get away with things and not punishing him so I wouldn’t be surprised.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I don't even ship the love square anymore, but Fanon Adrienette is a thousand times better than canon Adrienette(the same goes for every other side of the love square, obvs). It's what the canon should be but we fans can only wish. Take, for example, the whole "she's just a friend" statement. In canon Adrien makes it because he genuinely sees Marinette as that and nothing more(which of course isn't bad, it's just sad when Marinette's always humiliated for the sake of getting his love).

In fanon, he makes it because he's actually in denial about his feelings for Marinette(which reminds me of a definition for "just a friend" on Urban Dictionary, which had Adrien drawing her name with hearts and flowers around it, and yet, when Nino asked if he had a crush, he STILL insists she's just a friend!), but realizes his mistake later.

In canon, Adrien thinks Marinette is Ladybug only because it's convenient for him since she's in love with him. In fanon, he actually does notice things about her that make her similar to Ladybug, and falls for her BEFORE knowing their identities because he sees the same qualities of bravery, strength, and femininity that he sees in Ladybug(I remember one fanfic where Marinette stood up to GABRIEL'S overprotectiveness, and Adrien could only admire how much she resembled Ladybug in that moment).

In canon, Chat is ignorant of Ladybug's feelings and agency and doesn't comfort Marinette when she's sad; instead, she has to comfort him. In fanon, Chat Noir cares about how Ladybug feels and values her agency, his jokes are genuinely funny(although canon Chat can be funny too, it's just the where and when), and he backs off when Ladybug is uncomfortable. In fanon, Chat Noir genuinely helps Marinette when she's sad and sometimes comes to see her just because, not out of plot convenience(and calls her "Purrincess" a lot more, why did the English dub just change it to "little lady"?).

It makes me think, maybe, just maybe, if these things were canon and the world was fair to Marinette, I might actually ship it; it might actually have a fighting chance against Lukanette and Adrimi. But while all these things are cute, it only makes canon more disappointing. Fanon is doing what canon should be doing. Fanon is supposed to build off of what canon gave us and expand on it. Fanon shouldn't create its own alternative because canon isn't giving us enough to chew on, it shouldn't have to.

Sadly, I think most of the fans, including the Adriennette-shipping ones, should be on some level in charge of the show; things would be SO MUCH better for the main ship(which isn't even progressing that far) and SO MUCH fairer to Marinette if that were so.

I feel this very much so. The show has been around for a long time and fandom can shape a lot of things. I think the love square wouldn’t be as beloved as it is if not for the fandom expanding on it and making it better (obviously, in some cases, they don’t make it better, but the love square is plentiful so there has to be some good takes out there).

Some shows do in fact let the fandom build off the foundation it makes and then you have things like Astruc outright lying and saying that Chat apologized in “Frozer” when he, in fact, did not, which makes everything more muddled.

maxwaspace said:

What is your opinion of the Scarlet Lady webcomic by Z.O.E?

I’m not into the love square no matter how better one might do it (it’s been soured too much for me in the show), but I do get happy seeing Zoe’s art and wondering how she’ll change/expand on the plotpoints in certain episodes.

Anonymous said:

Not sure it anyone's already said this but-

Canon Audrey: you're fired!

MC Audrey: you're hired!

Okay but hear me out.

Canon Audrey being put in charge of dealing with Miraculous’ writers, MC Audrey put in charge of hiring new ones.

Anonymous said:

Something the genuinely scares me is how close some people’s predictions where for miraculous I just saw predictions people made for season 3 and it’s worrying that the worst possible scenario for them ended up happening beat for beat.

The show can be very, very predictable that way. The way I’d describe it is that I do expect these bad things to happen in really convoluted and dumb ways, but it still surprises me by exactly how predictable it ends up being. I mean, I catch certain things really easily and the phrase, “the whole episode just flashed before my eyes,” is something I commonly say.

Predictability isn’t entirely bad, but when the prediction is unwanted? Yeah, there’s a problem.

Anonymous said:

You could basically summarize the difference between what Miraculous fans want and what the Miraculous writers want by using the John Mulaney "Delta Airlines" bit as a template.

I had to get said bit explained to me since I haven’t seen that one, but yes, now I can confirm.

Anonymous said:

How do you think Chat Blanc would play out if Marinette and/or Adrien were already dating other people? Like if Marinette had already moved on, do you think the narrative would punish her for it?

I imagine it would have Adrien still be crushing on Ladybug and he’d break it off with this other person when he realized that Ladybug is Marinette, which the narrative would then promote as “the correct decision” because they’re soulmates and such. If Marinette has moved on, she probably won’t care about his advances, which would lead to Adrien getting upset and maybe being convinced that an identity reveal would solve the problem and/or speeding up getting Hawk Moth defeated/arrested.

Marinette would probably be blaming herself for not being “sensitive enough” to Adrien/Chat’s feelings, which is what led to him being akumatized.

I could also see the girl squad forcing Marinette to give Adrien the present similar to canon, but maybe the beret doesn’t have a heart and Marinette isn’t actually interested, but rolls with it because the girl squad insists on it (probably convinced that she’s denying her own feelings).

Anonymous said:

What do you think constitutes as a "strong female character"? Do you think the girls and women in Miraculous Ladybug are "strong female characters"? Why or why not(I'm sorry if this sounded like a school assignment, by the way!)? Because to me I feel like a lot of them are given depth and focus, but they're often forced into stereotypes, and let's not forget how the show derail's Marinette's character for a joke. But lots of people think a strong girl has to be boyish or else she's weak somehow.

“I'm sorry if this sounded like a school assignment“ dfhgkfdgfg

I guess it depends on what you consider a strong female character. Like, can a shy female character be “strong” if maybe she holds firm to her morals or can fight people off?

I think Marinette has the potential to be a “strong female character” but the show nerfs her using her crush on Adrien (which raises so many red flags that I can’t cover here) and all it’s really done for her is get her laughed at and humiliated. If her life didn’t revolve and get ruined so badly due to her crush on Adrien, I think she’d be a strong female character (I know what the Season 3 finale did but I’m not buying any of it until we see proper results in Season 4).

That’s not to say that characters with crushes can’t be “strong” but it has to not control their life. I mean... okay...

Would Sabrina be considered a “strong female character” if she recognized Chloe’s treatment of her and worked hard to get out of it? Is the want and attempt to move on from something what constitutes “strength,” or do they have to succeed?

My conflict is always... I want to give Marinette credit for trying to move on from Adrien, but I know that it’s just the writing trying to make things seem tense/strained just to make it feel “better” when they actually get together. You see it all the time in anime/manga where a misunderstanding/self-doubt ends up hurting the relationship of the main ship; it’s to force conflict and separation, giving the ship something to overcome so they can get together.

I will say though that shy characters can be strong, physically strong characters can be weak, and so on. What defines a “strong” character may be vague to me, but I take it as I go. I would like to say that Marinette is a strong character on her own because she wants to improve even if she fails, but I also don’t want to give the writing credit for something that ultimately means nothing. I want to say that she’s strong but the narrative seems to do everything in its power to tell me that she’s weak.

Let me give a non-Miraculous example: say that you have a pacifist character, but there’s a villain who has done terrible things, cannot be redeemed (plz do not swarm my inbox with “anyone can be redeemed” comments, this is a hypothetical), and any method besides killing them right there and now would lead to more destruction/lives lost.

You might say that that the pacifist character would be “strong” in sticking by their morals and trying to find another way even if they ultimately would fail and the villain would get away, but an argument can also be made that the pacifist is being stubborn and letting people die because they are unwilling to rethink the morality they’ve chosen. Is a pacifist a pacifist if they’re letting the blood of other people spill because they themselves aren’t willing to have the blood be on their own hands? Are they “strong” because they stuck by what they believe in or are they “weak” because they refused to expand what they believed was “right”?

You could apply that to Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender (I know he’s not female but stick with me here). He was faced with having to murder the Fire Lord to the point where a past reincarnation who was raised on the same values as him didn’t agree with him. I think it was acceptable for him to try and stick to his morals and find another way, but he came up empty and the show had to give him a way of taking away the Fire Lord’s power so Aang didn’t have to make that choice in the end (there’s also that thing with the rock to his back and having to give up Katara but we’re not getting into that).

People could argue that, “oh, he admitted to himself that he’d have to kill the Fire Lord and then he got the Deus Ex Machina so it’s okay!” but the problem there is that the narrative basically gave two options: Murder or Take Away the Guy’s Bending, but there was incredible risk involved in the latter option. Aang almost lost himself against the Fire Lord and risked everything so that he would not have to kill him.

I would argue it makes him weak. I would argue that needing the narrative to favor him makes him weak (which is one plus for Marinette I guess the narrative is usually against her???). The lack of ability to understand his past lives and see things from their perspective made him weak for me, as him holding so stiffly to his values made it appear that he felt his ways were “better” than everyone else’s (which had been a long-standing problem for me and I never forgave him for “The Southern Raiders”).

Anonymous said:

What do you think of adriens mom Emilie. Like what do you how do you feel she wound up using the peacock miraculous personally I’m leaning into her being a villain due to the fact that there aren’t any stories of a peacock hero (unless they retcon that) and that her husband is well freaking Gabriel who has no real form of morals. Also I can’t help but think of how they got the miraculous in the first place. Anyways overall what do you think they will do with her or think of her right now.

I see her like I see any dead mom in media (I know she’s comatose, not the point); a tool for angst. Her reasons for using the peacock could be anything (might even be that she was given it and simply wearing it was damaging to her, or she transformed once to try it out and that was that), but I just don’t feel strongly about her because I’m not invested in the Agreste plot.

Me personally, I headcanon that she’s kind of like Bustier where she appears good but is actually very damaging. Instead of the generic “good mom who tried to do good things for her son but folded to angry dad’s demands,” I would like to imagine that she’s selfish in her own right and was part of the reason for Adrien never going to public school; she’s possessive herself (a contributor to why the Agrestes are so wealthy) and wants her son to remain close to her even if she genuinely cares about him and should want him to be able to go and learn from the world.

But I imagine they’ll probably make her either “pure good mom” or “villain like Gabriel where she’s ‘sympathetic’ but also evil.” The show has never been good at doing gray morality (see my MC Audrey for example) and usually messes things up if they try.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I don't like Mme. Bustier, but if they DARE pull the pregnancy jokes with her--and I don't mean "pregnancy puns", like those would be ACTUALLY funny without offending anybody, but "ooh, she's pregnant so now she's moody and has wacky cravings and screams at everybody and is a nightmare to be around" and other things that just scream "male writer who mocks female biology and doesn't understand women", I'm going to cry. We already don't like Bridezilla, and this isn't any better.

Ugh. I don’t even like pregnancy plots in general or anything related to pregnancy (my followers who have been around forever and know of my hatred towards babies: wow what a shock!!), so adding on “jokes” like that?

Hard pass. I already don’t like Bustier so the mere idea of her potentially getting any focus there--

Anonymous said:

What do you think of the Alyanette ship? Personally, I'm ambivalent to it, but I can sorta see Alya being bi and having a crush on Marinette but Marinette doesn't like her back. Or she could have a crush on Ladybug. But I don't like the idea of it being mutual, considering how pushy and invasive Alya is. It also doesn't make sense for her to so insistently push the love square if she likes Marinette. But perhaps that's where some of her sarcastic quips come from: jealousy(cliche I know).

I’m always here for bi representation (no one can take my bi disaster headcanon’d Nino and Kagami away from me), but I actively dislike the Alyanette ship. I was okay with it back in Season 1 but it started to fall off in Season 2 and officially die in Season 3.

I don’t judge people by what they ship (...much; there’s obviously that little part of me that can’t help giving the side eye) but yeah, not for me.

Anonymous said:

As a different flavor of angst: Can you imagine Marinette’s class going to Riverside park in NYC and Tikki spotting the Jeanne D’Arc statue? I always wondered what it would have been like for Tikki to see Jeanne burned alive by the people she swore to protect. I think Nobody briefly touched on this for Witch Hunter, but not many people I have seen (probably missed something) talk about it. What do you think?

I’m indifferent to past holders getting mentioned and acknowledged; not sure how I feel about them given specific names and such (I kinda like seeing their designs and such but making them actual people from the real world? mmmm not here for that as much).

I like the idea though of addressing those real world things and having the kwami reacting to them. Like, it did make me genuinely sad in the New York special to see Liiri come out and call out Gilbert’s name, only to see this other guy standing there and we know that this Gilbert guy is very much dead by now.

On a related note, I’d be all for a special getting into a kwami’s problem and not making everything Marinette’s fault, so having Marinette maybe helping a kwami through theri issues and it leads into getting more lore on the kwami.

Anonymous said:

I just had an epiphany today: People who hate on Marinette for being "mean" to Lila/teachers telling Marinette to ignore Chloe and Lila and treat them nicely are the equivalent of real adults telling girls who are being bullied by boys that "he does it because he likes you." Ladies, raise your hands if something like this has ever happened: "Jamal tried to cut my cheek open with a razor!" "Oh, Aaliyah, he's only doing it because he likes you." Now that I've seen it I can't unsee it. Disgusting.

“Marinette, they’re just jealous of you, that’s all! Can you really get angry at them for that??”

us: yes

Anonymous said:

Thinking about Puppeteer 2 and how Marinette's identity could have been blown if she had talked to Tikki because of Plagg's incompetence angers me beyond belief because I know, just KNOW, if that had actually happened, Marinette would take ALL THE BLAME for it like there's no tomorrow. It would never occur to anyone that she normally talks to Tikki while she's alone and had no idea that the "statue" in front of her was a real boy AND her partner, or that Plagg should have said something. Ugh.

I KNOW, RIGHT????

That was such a big annoyance to me in that episode. They literally neglected the actual reality of what would happen (”Oh, Tikki! No one’s here, I could practice on this Adrien statue!”) for the sake of humiliating Marinette... again.

Anonymous said:

Your comment about how Ladybug always says she's "in love with someone else", as if that should matter diddly squat when the problem is with Chat not respecting her feelings on their own without another guy in the picture reminds me of a #YesAllWomen post I saw on Twitter. It read: "'I have a boyfriend' is the easiest way to get a man to leave you alone. Because he respects another man more than you." It's just like this except without the dating and the fact that Chat DOESN'T leave her alone.

And then you remember that the “someone else” she’s in love with is the exact person who’s disrespecting her feelings and you proceed to hate everything.

Anonymous said:

The statue scene in Puppeteer 2 could've easily kept its humor by having Adrien fall over when Marinette puts her weight on him and almost kisses him, then Marinette goes "Gasp! You're not a statue!" Marinette is always being forced to humiliate herself in the name of "love", even when she doesn't deserve it, so for once, let Adrien be the one utterly humiliated of his own doing. Then they could have a sad scene where Adrien ACTUALLY comforts her and...wait for it...LEARNS A LESSON.

Alternatively, someone who works on the statues comes in and, also mistaking Adrien for a statue, tries to do some sort of work on him.

Anonymous said:

Since we can all agree that this show is sadly not very good at girl power/inclusivity, how would you tweak the show to make it more genuinely female-empowering/inclusive(can include racial/sexual inclusivity)? Besides the obvious(including more female and/or POC writers on board).

Orientation-related inclusivity isn’t even that hard. Have a character get a call from someone and just be like, “oh, it’s my boyfriend/girlfriend,” and then other companies can just dub it if they’re so afraid of characters who like the same gender.

Firstly, I’d have Marinette learn and become more of a mentor character to other characters (male and female), lean more into more “females in power” (like Mylene showing genuine interest in being the next mayor), either less focus on the “girl antagonists are evil/unredeemable” plots or at least make them legitimate threats that don’t need the narrative to cater to them to make them threatening.

Secondly, Adrien needs to STOP being the one to keep telling Marinette/Ladybug what’s right or the way to do things. I can’t stress this one enough.

Thirdly, maybe not having a season dedicated to three guys getting miraculouses while all the girls are either questioned, self-reveal, or get their miraculous revoked. That might help. :P

Anonymous said:

The saddest thing is that I can see ML going through a "Fate: The Winx Saga" in the future and having an awful, edgy reboot to appeal more to adults.

Different writers probably but at what cost.

+ more sexualization obviously since that’s usually what “more adult” means; Audrey gets the cleavage that her design clearly calls for at least, but again, at what cost

Anonymous said:

I hate what TheOnesWhoMustNotBeNamed have done to the Love Square but I also don't like Lukanette and Adrigami (nothing against the characters themselves). This is going to be one of those shows that regardless what ship wins is going to disappoint around 90% of the fans.

No hate for not liking Lukanette/Adrimi, I understand that.

And yeah, there’s a <1% chance that they can pull out anything satisfying.

Anonymous said:

Off topic, but I realized why I don’t like Clara Nightingale’s design, there’s no light to her eyes, makes her look kinda dead, kinda evil.

DQ tend to do that when they’re the ones animating. I remember “Christmaster” doing particularly well with the eye highlights.

Anonymous said:

What do you think about the future Miraculous specials (Africa, Japan, Rio, Shanghai, London)?

Will be happy to see a new setting because it shows different cultures (though there’s always the chance that the culture is poorly-represented) but that’s basically it. Specials are usually just a cash grab that are just there and any expansion on lore and such is shunted to the side for the sake of love square drama, judging by the New York special.

Anonymous said:

I haven't watched the New York Special yet, don't think I can bring myself to tbh, but this whole time I thought Aeon was the name of the superhero persona, and that the fandom was collectively calling her civilian identity Uncanny Valley bc her model was that bad.

I was genuinely shocked to find out that her civilian identity is named Aeon and that her hero name is Uncanny Valley bc that is not only a stupid name, but kind of insulting since she's an android character of color. (Well, she's a character of color except for when shes running around as a pale naked superhero. Majestia, give your kid some pants!)

oof

Yeah, the Uncanny Valley thing threw me off too. “Aeon” really does sound like a superhero name.

I can’t believe they made her a robot and were like, “mannequin robot design.” I question so many things about the decisions made around Aeon fdkjgjfdg.

Anonymous said:

Do you think they’ll ever leave DuPont college, since it’s a middle school (essentially) and go to a lycee (high school)? I think they’re in their second year of four at DuPont, judging by the previous class picture.

I doubt it, unless we get more seasons? It would mean having to model a whole new school.

Anonymous said:

So I was reading again tikki brand boyfriend and this come to my mind and I have to share it with you.... Tikki is the mother in law of marinette in the future lol (sorry if this isn't the right blog to ask this) (I love yours au, you are amazing!)

(this is the wrong blog, yes, you’re looking for mc-lukanette, not miraculouscontent)

Thank you though! i agree, that’s cute, ahaha~

Anonymous said:

Did you know that there's a TV Tropes page for LadyBugOut?! And someone even left a review there saying they liked it and that they were sick of the Marinette embarrassing and wanted some Lukanette. They say your au is their favorite au in the fandom! Isn't that just swell?

Yes! And the TV Tropes page is fantastic! Thank you!

Anonymous said:

OMG IVE FIGURED OUT WHY MARINETTE IS UNABLE TO GET OVER ADRIEN!!! She’s under the influence of a love potion called Amortentia, which causes a powerful obsession from the drinker (it’s from Harry Potter). That’s why she’s so obsessed, and that’s why she can’t get over Adrien! She literally can’t while under the influence of the potion! She just needs to drink the antidote, and then she can finally be free!

Oh no!! Someone get this poor girl an antidote, STAT!

Anonymous said:

I was just reading your review of Silencer(which I totally agree with by the way), and when I got to the part about how Ladybug lost her voice and her powers are voice-activated, it got me thinking about how annoying Chat was being(as another anon noted, which I also agree with), and then it hit me. While it may just come off as his usual flirtatious banter that's innocent, the fact that he doesn't even seem to mind Ladybug not being able to detransform because then he gets to "be with her" forever and ever and ever amen just proves your point about Chat Blanc. He cares more about being with Ladybug than Ladybug herself, so long as she gets to keep being Ladybug "for him", that's what matters. Remember that the girl he fell in love with was the superhero persona and not the girl under the mask. He couldn't care less about who that actual girl is so long as she's his "lady" and loves him back. He just wants her to uphold the image of his strong and powerful "lady" that he admires.

(Glad you enjoyed the “Silencer” review! Thanks!)

Full agreement here! Chat isn’t really in love with Ladybug; he’s in love with the image he’s made of her and wants to keep it that way, no matter how much he may suggest otherwise.

Anonymous said:

Luka is soooo much more interesting with Marinette like, why isn't he the love interest? Same with Kagami for Adrien. To be honest it would be cool if the show set up the love square at first but then slowly started to change to Lukanette and Adrimi once Marinette and Adrien realized their crushes were just not working out. They can still have an identity reveal, but they'll refreshingly stay friends. But the writers don't have the ovaries to do that, I get it. -_- Such wasted potential.

They could’ve done a really interesting bait-and-switch but they decided not to. The love square is full of holes and flaws that they’re very likely never going to address (outside of anything used for that “gAsP maybe they won’t get together???” drama), so having it actually be addressed and be like, “okay, we’re better as friends,” would’ve gone over so much better.

Anonymous said:

I hear people complain all the time that Lukanette is toxic because Luka is merely the "second choice" for Marinette, and that she just uses him as a rebound when she fails to get Adrien's attention. But the truth is, that's not how it is at all. Luka's not anywhere near her "second choice". He gives her tranquility and stability, and she helps him loosen up and have someone to express his creativity towards. Plus, it's totally normal for teens to have two crushes whom they can't choose between.

THIS

ALL OF THIS

I am so tired of people saying that Marinette is “using” Luka in someway as if it’s a conscious decision on her part to take advantage him.

Luka makes her happy. That’s it. Luka is aware of how she feels and respects her space, but I guess that makes him a “pushover” and “he lets Marinette walk all over him” because he didn’t get upset with her and embarrass her in “Desperada” by calling her out over her Adrien blindness.

Anonymous said:

People who say "I like Marinette but she's getting to be pretty embarrassing sometimes" really don't get that the show constantly forces her into situations where she's embarrassed and made out to be incompetent. Like, it's not her that's embarrassing, it's the show that's always embarrassing her. Kind of like Serena/Usagi in the (shitty)DiC English dub of Sailor Moon. It's getting irritating to hear people continually rag on Marinette as if SHE'S the clueless idiot, rather than the writers.

There are some things that happen to her that she literally could not have predicted. Like, just saying, if I had someone claiming to be my friend, I would expect them to know I’m anxiety-prone and not pretend to be a statue just

Anonymous said:

Remarried Empress Anon: I can see Felix as the Duke and maybe Jagged Stone as Kosair (but an uncle and not her brother).

I agree with both of those! Jagged Stone as Kosair/Koshar, omg.

Plus, the idea of Luka and Felix being “friends” amuses me.

Anonymous said:

You know, I find Felix/Marinette content to be really funny. Because, Felix in fanfiction is a completely different character than his canon self- with a different personality, background, and maybe even last name. So, the entire Marinette/Felix fandom is literally just Marinette/oc except it's always the same oc

I struggle to get fully behind Felinette because so much of it does rely on fandom interpretation and playing with fanon in general (plus, having to clarify “I ship fanon Felinette” is weird).

I do however agree that it’s interesting that it ultimately comes to a character built on fanon grounds, and how much more acceptance characters get when they’re based on “canon”/originally canon characters.

Anonymous said:

How would you write the Miraculous PV version? Just wondering.

I don’t think I could without drastically changing characters and at that point it’s not really the PV anymore. “Bridgette“ and Felix’s relationship is the exact opposite of what I like to watch/read about so yeah, changing both of them to what I like would either be too severe of a rewrite or me working too far within the restrictions set out for me.

Anonymous said:

There's a YouTube video claiming that someone will figure out that Marinette is Ladybug and that she will suffer...I mean, yeah? Isn't that what we've already been getting? I mean, not the first part, obviously(and when we have, it's been undone), but the second? Have we been watching the same show? No, have we? Because Marinette suffering, sadly, is not anything new.

lol “Marinette will suffer!” and us like “did you seriously use future tense as if Marinette isn’t already suffering??”

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one who feels like Miraculous Ladybug is feeling less like a magical girl show and more like just another superhero show? This isn't even because of "girl power" or anything like that, or the fact that there are male Miraculous wielders like Chat and Carapace and(long dreamy sigh) Viperion. This is because the outfits don't really resemble magical girl outfits at all and, after watching various magical girl shows both in and out of Japan, Miraculous is starting to feel like its genre is shifting from magical girl to that of "superhero" in its broadest term. And I know I said I wouldn't bring up "girl power", but the fact that so many of the girls aren't treated respectfully by the narrative and are pitted against each other, to the point where they're more likely to lose their Miraculouses or reveal their identities(which often culminates in losing their Miraculouses), only adds to this because the Magical Girl genre is about female empowerment and solidarity.

It's sad because I really don't want this show to become one of those shows where "there might be one or two girls, and she might even be the lead, but it's still mostly guys who are front and center doing the heavy lifting" that we get all the time. Things are starting to change for the better and I want Miraculous to capitalize on that emergence of female empowerment as much as possible. Plus, with the New York Special, the magical girl aspects of the show have been toned down if not obliterated entirely: the transformations for the superheroes only last one minute, and they feel more like the Avengers than Sailor Senshi(which I don't mean in the most literal sense, of course, I am in no way saying that none of them can be male.). Plus they pulled the whole "Samus is a Girl" thing TWICE! TWICE! Come on, if you're show is really about girl power, it shouldn't come as a surprise when girls are, well...powerful! And especially not in Magical Girl for obvious reasons.

So while I'm not saying it's bad for a show to shift from the original genre it was meant to be in(although it must be done carefully, otherwise it looks like you don't know what you're doing), and there is of course no wrong way to do Magical Girl(except for Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna, do NOT go there!), it does make me wonder. And it's kind of disappointing, because I really love Magical Girl and I feel like shows like these could introduce the genre to a wider audience and could renovate it as well. But unfortunately they're going a different direction, and that makes me sad. If not for the transformation phrases/sequences and the fact that they have animal companions, I imagine most people would be totally clueless as to how on Earth this show counts as Magical Girl. It still counts as such for me, but it's deviating farther and farther away from the genre to the point where it becomes nigh unrecognizable, or like even the show writers forgot what genre it's supposed to be. Sadly.

Yikes.

Yeah, I can’t imagine how seeing this show must be like for people that are more savvy with magical girl shows. Me personally, I had to be told that it was a magical girl show because it honestly just gave off the “superhero show” vibes even with the magical girl-esque transformations.

Plus, with magical girls, you usually expect a group of girls? Here, we have Ladybug and Chat Noir, who the writers keep being like “they’re equals” which... yeah, that’s fine but it doesn’t really work with the idea that this is a magical girl show? I mean, “Party Crasher” was basically Ladybug and her reverse harem of superhero guys who just got out of a “males-only” party.

I dunno, coming from someone who doesn’t have a lot of experience with magical girl shows, it just doesn’t have what I would expect when I think “magical girl show featuring a healthy dose of girl power.”

Anonymous said:

I was once reading this review of Miraculous Ladybug called "Miraculous Ladybug is a Hot Mess: A Rant", and while it's a good video and you should watch it and I totally agree with everything she said(plus, it made me laugh a few times!), I had a huge issue with the way she made Marinette's stammering around Adrien to be ALL HER FAULT since he's never mean to her and is always patient with her(yeah, more like oblivious), but that "she's incompetent" and "cockblocks herself", which annoys me because Marinette on her own is not the incompetent one here(I also don't like the term "cockblock", like, can we not? But anyway...), rather, it's the writers who make her incompetent for cheap laughs and don't allow her to improve or let anyone(but Luka, bless his kind soul!) truly be on her side. She then had the nerve to say "Marinette needs to learn to define herself outside of who she's crushing on", when, NO, once again, the WRITERS are the ones who define her by her crush on Adrien.

It's one thing to blame a character for something even when she's clearly written by a writer, because characters are supposed to be consistent yet flexible and have free will in-universe. But when she's written this inconsistently/it's obvious the writers have it out for her(to the point where they even say it) it is nigh impossible to pretend it's an aspect of the character herself and not the writers at fault. THAT'S where you draw the line between blaming the character vs the writer.

In fact, speaking of Luka, she also said that she wants the show to get rid of Luka because he's just a "plot device" and has no reason to like her beyond the fact that she's a "funny girl". She also said that Luka is a stereotype of the "cute bad boys who are emo", when that's blatantly untrue. She's allowed to not like Lukanette but all the things she's saying really ignore the point of his character and that his life DOESN'T revolve around Marinette; the writers simply don't respect him.

Even worse, she contradicted herself by saying that Lukanette is pointless because "we all know that Marinette is going to get with Adrien; it's endgame so why does the show even bother with Luka?" Then right after that says that Kagami's okay and that it's okay for Adrien to move onto Kagami because Ladybug has rejected him as Chat so many times(which is apparently not the case for Adriennette because "MaRiNeTtE's JuSt InCoMpEtEnT" right?). So teenage girls aren't allowed to like other boys or date more than one boy, yet teenage boys can date as many chicks as they like. Nice.

And apparently, any problem in a relationship or potential relationship is the girl's fault no matter what. She can't approach him because Goddess forbid girls not always be perfect and capable? She's incompetent and it's all her fault she can't properly talk to a perfectly nice, cute, FAMOUS boy. She rejects him every time he confesses despite him knowing it will fail. Her fault for being mean and not giving him a chance. She gets tired of chasing him and decides to look at someone else since it's not like she's legally married to Boy #1? She should stick with the original boy since they're gonna get together anyway. He gets tired of chasing her and decides to look at someone else since it's not like he's legally married to Girl #1? She should've realized his feelings for her and returned them since they're gonna be endgame anyway. Has this lady ever even been a teenage girl?

Plenty of teenage girls get tongue-tied around the one they love even if he or she is a perfectly nice, sweet person, it doesn't mean they're incompetent(especially when the girls are fictional characters in a world set out to punish them for not making progress and for trying to make progress at the same time, and the fact that the boy is a celebrity who is always made oblivious and kept distant enough from the girl so she can keep putting him on a pedestal and never truly get to know him). Plenty of teenage girls lose interest in one boy and so fall for another. Yet it's somehow only okay for boys to do it? Seriously?

And then for the episode "Ladybug", the reviewer continues to rag on Marinette, blaming her for the fact that her reaction to getting expelled was "I can't let that nasty Hawkmoth win", claiming she wasn't reacting like a normal teen or human in general would react in that scenario, completely ignoring the fact that it's TIKKI who doesn't comfort Marinette and forces her to focus on her duties as Ladybug and almost getting akumatized. She's right about the plot moving too fast, but she doesn't take into account WHY it's moving too fast, because the show doesn't focus on Marinette's inner struggle and what she has to go through. Instead of giving her time to process her thoughts after all that goes on and providing Tikki as a source of comfort and support(which she's, you know, SUPPOSED to be), they make Tikki berate her and force Marinette to push it to the side.

She's never allowed to feel. And that's why it hurts all the more when this woman insults Marinette for her perceived ineptitude, and she's fully allowed to dislike Marinette, critique her behaviors, dislike Luka, critique his role in the story etc., just don't reinforce a double standard as you do so and look closer: ultimately most of Marinette's problems are due to her not being permitted to FEEL. She's not allowed to be nervously in love, or be calm, or be offended, or be just not ready.

The writers keep pushing her in one direction, to be emotionless, to be selfless, to be nice, to be honest, to be "the mature/responsible one" to be a perfect little "Purrincess", to not push for or want anything for herself, even though the show is supposed to be about girl power! She does somewhat touch on that by saying that Ladybug never gets to "take a hit" and that the Marichat scene in Glaciator was too short, but she never goes into why everything is too-fast paced. And if she did, she wouldn't be saying everything she does about Marinette and Luka. Because Luka is more than just the "plot device" she dismisses him as.

He's like a calm oasis, the apple of the hurricane who keeps Marinette calm and just lets. her. breathe. He's possibly the only person who doesn't berate her, who doesn't mimic her, who doesn't insult her, who doesn't ignore her. And the one time he does, he apologizes RIGHT AWAY when he sees how sad she looks. And the funny thing is, I used to hate that scene, because when I first saw it, I thought "Oh man! Luka did the same thing as everyone else did once!" But now I see that it serves as a contrast, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to the other characters in the show. Whereas they never apologize for how they treat Marinette(and often she somehow ends up apologizing instead, sadly) and in fact seem oblivious to it at times or just don't care, Luka notices, Luka cares, and Luka apologizes. That shows that he cares about her and her feelings, unlike the rest of the characters in the show.

And while they do care about her, they're never held accountable for how they treat her. Anarka and Plagg are probably the only exceptions that I can think of(who contribute to the plot of course), but they're obviously not love interests, and the video doesn't talk about them, so I won't talk about them either. But my point is that this review, while good in other ways, is still problematic in this regard, for how it completely ignores Marinette's struggles and how they affect her, as well as the value of Luka's character(even if the show doesn't recognize it at times) and the POSITIVE effect they have on each other(especially since he actually, genuinely, wholeheartedly loves her and is patient with her, since Adrien is barely even her friend and Chat is pushy and entitled. And he has a life outside of her too, which this video chooses to ignore.)! So yeah, I'm sorry this took so long, but I just had to protect my favorite characters because that video did them so dirty. Thank you for coming to my Lukanette Ted Talk! Have a miraculous day! ;3

...Wow????

Can I just say wow??

Firstly, kudos to you for having the patience to not only write all of that, but simultaneous deal within Tumblr’s limitations while doing so? I almost wish I had a video detailing all of these topics (not exactly a video response to that person, but just detailing all of this without explicitly calling people out).

Secondly, I absolutely, 100% feel you on the double standards. I have seen so much hypocrisy in my experiences and it’s insane how people will bash Marinette relentlessly and then let Adrien off with a bunch of excuses, or hate Luka for essentially existing and then accept Kagami.

I also hate the idea of disliking Luka because he’s there to make Marinette feel better, and then liking Kagami because she causes conflict, like the implication is that conflict equals good and things that make Marinette feel loved and cared for are bad because love square endgame, I guess.

It’s exhausting, especially when Marinette is fourteen, clearly tries, but is getting no support. Like, have you ever thought how weird it was that Tom and Sabine seemingly knew back in “Gamer” that Marinette was crushing on Adrien, but in “Weredad,” they don’t worry about the fact that Marinette is into someone else or wonder what might’ve happened with Adrien, like if he might’ve hurt her in some way? If the assumption is, “oh, they just think that’s a teenage thing, flip-flopping between love interests,” well... Tom clearly takes what he thinks to be her current crush very seriously, and even if it was true that they presume she’s just flip-flopping, that really doesn’t show them to see Marinette as more than just a clumsy teenager-in-love stereotype.

So yeah, the characters who are meant to be there to support her ask no questions, but here’s Luka with his sweet “you can tell me everything or nothing, you can be yourself around me,” line, and yet... Luka is the problem???

Sure, how dare this sweet boy NOT cause Marinette more stress. He makes Marinette feel better about herself and therefore he’s “pointless” (which, really, is the true mark of someone who doesn’t care about Marinette).

Ugh.

But yeah, in conclusion, people can have insane double standards when it comes to Luka and Marinette, and thank you for the Lukanette Ted Talk, this was a really good piece! You have a nice day too! ;3

(note: the below ask seems to cut short at the end and I didn’t get a message back about it but I at least wanted to have it here so the anon has (most of?) their story heard even if I can’t properly comment on it:)

Anonymous said:

Relating to the ask about Marinette imagining the events of the series. For me it would be realistic as I sort of see myself in her position for some parts, especially how her friends are represent (mainly Alya) and I can see myself picturing the events of the story (surrounding them) to some extent.

I'm continuing on to explain and rant about how I relate to Marinette. So about Alya's pushiness with Marinette's crush and how she won't let her move on. I used to be sort of friends with this person and one day we hanging out at school and she started badgering me to tell her who my crush was, even though I told her I didn't have one (I didn't have one but even if I did it wasn't her business, especially because we hadn't really interacted for a couple years).

She pressured me enough that I felt the need to make up a person, then she called me out just after I did it because she knew I was lying but didn't realise how uncomfortable I was lucky we were by ourselves so no one could hear how embarrassing it was. It still is but I sort have gotten over it (that's why I'm hear complaining). For her being made to sit by herself because everyone else paired of, I can relate.

I have never been the person who is really close with the friend group (probably because I'm quiet and struggle to interact with others), but I still I hang out during class time, but there have been times when two of the friends sat together and the other friend chose not to sit with me but just in front of me (the tables can fit two people at them) until one friend I went to primary school asked "what about [me]", so them she sat next to me.

The person I went to primary school with also has chosen to sit with the person who was not to sit with me so she could sit closer to the other two friends diagonally across from me on the table next to mine. I can understand Marinette in The Chameleon for how she would of felt when her friends turned in because I am left wondering if my friends even like me, although primary school friend sometimes tried to get to wait with them when we were waiting for the teacher to show up.

As I mentioned earlier I anxious when trying to interact with people who are even considered my friends so I wait for them to invite me to hangout with them. And for the ending of The Chameleon when everything went back to normal, in primary school we had this task we were told research a person and write a biography on them so as the teacher told us we were writing a good copy and the work in our books was a rough draft.

I wrote the information down as I would the good copy to make sure I was happy with it. When we were writing the good copy, I started to worry I had done something wrong as I had seen my friends work and they bith had just written down the facts. So as my friends and I kept having arguments and fights so I told them that I hoped I remembered to spell all the names correctly because they were not names I was knew how to spell which was true so they didn't question it as I could tell they did

#category: salt #character: Marinette Dupain Cheng #relationship: love square #character: Adrien Agreste #category: fandom #MC: Audrey Bourgeois #episode: Chat Blanc #character: Emilie Agreste #character: Caline Bustier #relationship: Alya Cesaire & Marinette Dupain Cheng #episode: The Puppeteer 2 #MC's Adjustments #adjustment: romance #category: staff #character: Clara Nightingale #episode: Silencer #relationship: Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain Cheng #relationship: Felix Graham de Vanily & Marinette Dupain Cheng #other: askplosion

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

you will see a better day

donation drive commission for @starrykid with the prompt: Remus dealing with intrusive thoughts and the others helping him through it.

warnings: canon setting, intrusive thoughts (a fair amount), gore mentions, implications of thoughts of self harm, Remus Going Thru It

Before, whenever he had a Bad Day, it was just more fuel on the trash fire that was his brain.

It was routine: Remus would wake up with a litany of grotesque images on the back of his eyelids, present every time he blinked or squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. These thoughts weren’t the fun kind of gross, the type that was fascinating or funny. They weren’t fun because he didn’t choose them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them if he didn’t like them.

Guess that was how everyone else felt about you. Remus mashed a pillow over his own face as though it would muffle his own mind. What a stupid thought. He was a luxury few could afford, thank-you-very-much!

Back then, as soon as possible, he would find someone else in the Mindscape to bother, because if he had to deal with the awful thoughts carving and chipping away at the inside of his skull, it was only fair to share.

That was before, when things had been black and white and he could be a monster all he pleased because it wasn’t like anyone else thought differently. It wasn’t like Thomas thought differently.

Until he did.

And now they were all in one muddled up Mindscape and the others were trying, making an effort to clot their own bad habits and setting a place for him at the table. It was slow-going, like shoving a square peg into a circular hole, but it was also the most he’d ever had. Until something splintered, he was going to soak in every minute of it.

Or at least, that was his plan, up until he hit another Bad Day like a semi truck hit thrice-dead roadkill.

Same thoughts, same pounding (heh) headache. The difference was, now he couldn’t go word-vomit all over the nearest Side until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He was working to keep the delicate peace in his own way, and that meant not bothering the others with his… himself-ness on days like these.

He couldn’t stay in his room all day, though. For one it was boring, and for two, ever since they’d all agreed to try and cohabitate, Patton and Janus in particular were insistent on checking in if anyone acted strange. Cooping up in his room and not being his usual fantastically sickening and outrageous self would definitely pop up on their radar. If that happened, there was no way he could fool Janus outright. He preferred his own brand of frank honesty anyways, so clearly the only solution was to behave normally enough that nobody looked twice.

His version of normal, anyhow.

He groaned loudly and then dragged in a breath, manifesting a pair of slippers that looked uncannily like dead fish onto his feet. He would just have to put his excellent acting skills to use.

—-

Remus’s willpower was put to the test as soon as he reached the kitchen. A new record of his ability to destroy plans, this must be why Janus never told him anything.

Patton was spinning himself in circles on one of the round stools by the bar counter, humming a cartoon theme brightly to himself. At the stovetop, Virgil was sedately flipping pancakes, an easy set to his shoulders that meant he had probably recently taken a long-overdue nap in Logan’s room.

Normally, Remus would already be halfway into teasing the hell out of him, but now his brain felt scrambled with panic. Virgil was particularly susceptible to getting dragged into the cycle of intrusive thoughts on days like these, which meant the anxious Side was the last one he wanted to run into at the moment.

Two birds with one brick, his stupid hell brain suggested slyly. Send Virgil into a spiral and then it’ll be him who gets nagged, his fault for ruining the friendly atmosphere.

Stop it. Remus’s face twitched into a self-directed snarl for a moment, and he forced the thought away as Patton finally slowed his rotation to smile dizzily at him.

“Remus! Good morning!”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, sending Remus’s heart rate briefly into the triple digits. Be normal be normal be normal. “Hey, Re. Morning.”

He didn’t even notice. So much for being your friend. If you’re subtle enough, you could sidle up behind him and smash his face into the hot burner—

“WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, teeth spread in a too-wide grin. He bounced into the kitchen, depositing an assorted handful of teeth (his preferred currency) into the swear jar before Patton could say anything, and planted himself on the middle bar stool.

Patton scooted one stool closer to be next to him, because of course he did. Remus resisted the urge to start prying out handfuls of hair, his own or— no. Toned down, he was keeping it toned down. Buttcheek on a stick, this was difficult.

“Want to spin with me?” Patton asked, shifting antsily from side to side with barely contained energy.

“Whoever pukes first wins?” Remus replied automatically, and felt a bright burst of giddy joy when Patton giggle-snorted instead of recoiling.

“I think upchuck is actually supposed to mean you lose your lunch and the spinning contest, kiddo.”

Of course it did. You were designed to be the loser, even if you try to change the rules.

Remus knew that this time Patton had spotted the way his lips twitched down into a grimace, but before the fatherly side could say anything, there was the clink of ceramic plates on the counter in front of them.

“No spinning and/or vomiting if you want to eat my pancakes,” Virgil demanded, wielding a spatula threateningly at them as he clicked the stovetop off. “We’ll never hear the end of it from Princey if he has to reconjure all the furniture.”

Irrational, heated anger burned through him. Like Virgil could do anything to stop you. Social interaction was enough to give the guy a panic attack, he couldn’t tell Remus to do or not do anything—

“You good, Re?” Virgil asked, and he jerked, avoiding the other Side’s gaze as though eye contact would expose his thoughts. After a beat too long, his mind finally caught up with the plate in front of him.

His pancake was covered in a truly disgusting amount of cheese and ketchup, the way he always requested it back when they’d all been Dark Sides. Despite the fact that he always made a face back then, Virgil had made a point to remember, had done it without asking.

Like ravenous wolves, his thoughts instantly turned against him.

Pathetic. How could you think things like that about people who trust you? You shouldn’t even be here, pretending to be a person. You deserve everything coming to you.

His hand made it halfway to the fork sitting innocently next to his plate before he remembered himself. Virgil was still looking at him, clearly having caught the motion, and Remus lowered his hand, white-knuckled.

“Me, good? That’s a funny one, V-mo!” he tried to joke, but the odd edge to his voice made it fall flat. Virgil was outright frowning now, and out of the corner of his vision Patton’s eyebrows were drawing together.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, his frame tight with tension and his gaze drilling into Remus. “Are you hurt?”

“I could be!” Remus blurted, trying to keep his tone saucy but ending up with something closer to desperate. “You ever think maybe bashing my skull in would be better than having to deal with its contents?”

The two of them winced, and he knew he’d given himself away completely. Shit.

Virgil reached out, and then stopped himself before he could make contact. Can you blame him? Jumping into an electrified tank of leeches would be more comfortable than willingly exposing himself to you.

Something of his internal diatribe must have shown on Remus’s face, because Virgil’s hesitant expression flickered into regret.

“Shit,” he swore, and this time Patton didn’t chide him. “I can’t-- I don’t want to send you into a spiral, Re. If I touch you, we’re just going to be stuck in a feedback loop of bad thoughts.”

“Like how you’re perpetually stuck in 2009?” Remus offered, instead of listing all the ways he could feasibly remove Virgil’s eyes from their sockets. It would almost be fun, if it wasn’t his friend’s eyes he was contemplating prying out with a spoon handle.

Virgil’s lips pulled up slightly. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna go get the others. They’ll be able to help you for real.”

He sunk out, and Remus’s head started to ache more severely as terrible and often gory predictions for the future began to crowd his mind. He shoved his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged ferociously.

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t pull on your hair like that,” a concerned voice chimed in. Remus had almost forgotten Patton was still there, sitting only a seat away.

He pulled harder on his hair, both out of spite and to distract himself from the urge to summon a weapon and see if Patton would still look at you with so much pity if you shanked his ass and tied his intestines into little bows.

“Hey, what do you call a seasick croc?” Patton asked, abruptly enough that Remus managed to shake his train of thought. He glanced up to look at the Heart, who offered him a tremulous mischievous smile. “A crocobile.”

Remus snorted, and Patton’s smile seemed to firm up.

“How about, why do ducks have tail feathers?” the moral Side asked in that same leading tone.

Remus thought for a minute. “‘Cause otherwise they’d lose their balance in flight and go splat against the nearest window?”

“I mean, maybe, but also!” Patton held up a finger for emphasis. “They have tail feathers to cover their… butt-quacks.”

There was a beat of anticipation where they both stared at each other, and then Remus threw his head back and outright cackled. Patton fist pumped in delight.

“I thought you might like that one, kiddo,” he said, beaming. Before Remus could reply, possibly with an atrocious pun of his own, Roman strode into the room.

There was a brief, awkward pause as the two of them made eye contact. Patton looked rapidly between them with concern, and Remus couldn’t blame him. Even now, their one-on-one interactions tended to end with vicious spats. They were too good, too practiced at pressing each other's buttons to settle into the newfound peace easily.

“... Bad one?” he finally asked, as though he could spot the wrong-evil-awful all over Remus from a mile away. Remus felt his expression drop into an irritable glower worthy of Anxiety, but before he could retort, Roman was seating himself primly on the communal couch.

He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck in a nervous habit Remus constantly teased him about, and then straightened his shoulders and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll… like when we were kids. If you want.”

Despite Patton’s confused head tilt, Remus got it immediately, and ignored the screaming violence in his head in favor of bodily throwing himself over the couch, jostling the hell out of his brother and eliciting a Grade-A Bitchface from him in the process. Remus grinned maliciously in return.

“Do the one that looks like a snake,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and lengthening it. Of course, in addition, thick clumps of hair ended up falling out entirely, leaving weird-feeling bald patches that might have been interesting if he’d actually intended to create them.

“On purpose or don’t want it?” Roman asked, echoing a familiar question from their childhood. It had been a royal decree, before they grew so divided, that one had to ask before ‘fixing’ anything the other did, just in case it was on purpose.

“How are you supposed to braid what isn’t there?” Remus grumbled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he unwillingly imagined restapling his hair to his skull. “Don’t want it.”

Roman dragged his fingers through Remus’s hair, lengthening it until it was long enough to do all sorts of stupid-complicated braids. He also made the new hair unforgivably glossy and apple-scented, but Remus could get him back for that later, when he was sure it wouldn’t be (nails through nasal cavities, a cloud of suffocating darkness, decaying hands pulling you down into freshly turned soil and burying you alive) disproportionate retribution.

Two braids later, Logan appeared, rising up in the mindscape with his tie perfectly aligned but lab goggle imprints around his eyes. He only took a moment to absorb the scene, as though it was normal that everyone was crowding around Remus attentively. “Virgil informed me that you could use some assistance?”

Remus snorted. “Maybe you can perform some impromptu brain surgery to stop me thinking? Hey, if you don’t use anesthetic, I promise not to squirm too much, doc.”

“I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school,” Roman quoted absently, still caught up in combining three braids together into one.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Regardless of my unfortunately lacking PhD status, I believe brain surgery to ‘stop one thinking’ is also colloquially referred to as an induced coma.”

“Perfect!” Remus cheered, and then yelped when Roman tugged on his hair harshly in retribution. Patton was making that half-pitiful, half-furious face that he always made whenever the emo talked bad about himself, strangely enough.

“There are plenty of adjectives I could use to describe such a solution, but none of them would be ‘perfect’, Remus,” Logan continued. “A more effective and patient-friendly answer would be addressing your irritating or harmful thoughts through the use of various mental health tactics.”

Easy for him to say. “That might work for Tommy-boy, but I am the harmful or irritating thoughts, remember?”

“Falsehood.” Logan declared, proving that no matter what aspect of Thomas they were, the Sides were all dramatic theater kid bastards at heart. “It has become increasingly clear that while we all formed to handle certain tasks or aspects, we are all increasingly complex at heart. None of us can be diminished to simply one trait. In the same way that Virgil is much more than the experience of anxiety, there is no logical reason to reduce yourself to the thoughts that you struggle with.”

Remus shook his head, though he wasn’t sure what part of the assertion he was resisting. Logan folded himself into a sitting position and reached over for Remus’s hand, his touch grounding.

“You’ve gotten through days like this before. You’ll continue to do so after,” Logan told him.

“I got through Bad Days by making everyone’s day bad,” Remus retorted. “I’m not you, but I’m not stupid. Nobody wants me making it into a communal event.”

“That’s what family’s for though,” Patton said, shifting closer from his own spot on the rug. “Listening. Helping. Having each other’s backs when things get tough!”

Logan’s grip didn’t falter. Roman’s presence was solid at his back. Remus was beginning to wonder if he’d snorted something hallucinogenic recently.

“The sentiment is admirable, if a bit hypocritical,” a familiar voice chimed in, and Remus looked up to see Janus leaning elegantly against the kitchen archway. Virgil elbowed his way past, ruining the dramatic pose and flopping down on the couch next to Remus. He bumped his shoe against Remus’s leg in quiet camaraderie.

“Hypocritical?” Logan echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Unless you’d like to tell me that everyone here has no problems whatsoever asking for help or expressing vulnerability on their bad days,” Janus proposed, smugly.

Logan inclined his head slightly. “Point.”

“Regardless, that doesn’t make Logic or Morality incorrect.” Janus looked at Remus intently. “None of us are allowed to simply suffer in silence, anymore.”

“I didn’t exactly suffer in silence before,” he pointed out, sounding uncannily sensible. Probably from the nerd’s proximity.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem now, hmm?” Janus replied.

Logan sighed at them all, collectively, in general. “Look at it from this angle, Remus. Your previous coping mechanism was generally detrimental due to your lack of options and isolation. Now, you have neither of those holding you back. With knowledge and assistance, you can only improve from here on out.”

Now, that was doubtful. “And what if I don’t, huh? What if I just get worse?”

“Then we’ll still be here.” Logan squeezed his hand, and Janus confirmed his words with a nod, and even though his mind was cluttered and overwhelming, they were all still there at his side without complaint.

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask, after all.

“Well, what are we trying first?”

#sanders sides #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #donation drive #commissioned works #writing #my writing #starrykid #woohoo!#hurt/comfort #found family

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moons-and-stars-and-shit · 3 years

Note

hi again 🥺🥺 this is for the match ups you are doing :))

appearance :: i am 5'4 and have brown hair and eyes, though my eyes are a little green with sunlight too. i can say i have a curvy body(? and i was told i have a cute and bright smile.

personality :: when i first meet someone i tend to be very shy, sometimes i even barely speak. but once i get to know someone i open myself up a little more (still, i find it very hard to open up to things that are personal or make me sad). i could say im calm, positive and patient but i tend to be jealous a lot and sensitive over not so important things. i do have a tendency to put others before me way too much which causes me to forget about myself.

hobbies :: i love to read ! i usually use my savings for buying new books or mangas :)) i also like painting and drawing but i dont know if i should count those as hobbies now bc they are very related to what im majoring in. I love playing the guitar and listening to some calming music while laying in bed.

aesthetic :: my favorite aesthetics are cottagecore and goblincore. however in my daily life i use a combination of both + a little bit of light academia <3

likes :: greek mythology, conspiracy theories, kdramas, romance and adventure books, fantasy, mushrooms 🥺, cats, guitars, picnics, inceses, meditations, study dates, libraries, watercolors and relaxing//acoustic music.

mbti + zodiac sign :: with my mbti is kinda difficult to say because i took different tests and i had two different types as results:: INFJ and INFP. i relate to both in a lot of ways but i still find myself relating to more people or characters that are INFP. my zodiac sign is virgo, my rising taurus and my moon leo.

type :: i dont know if i have a type? i would love to date someone who understands me and makes me feel loved. who's love language are words of affirmation or/and physical touch. someone who, if he does not share interests with me or preferences in dates, can adapt and be willing to learn about the things that i like. someone who will cheer me up. maybe a little dorky? i dont mind if they are not extroverted as long as we help each other to get out of our comfort zone :)) in appearance maybe just not too beefy ah 😅 lol but other than that, someone who will respect me and will make me smile

i think that is it? sorry for making it so long and thank you sooo much for taking your time to do this 🥺🥺 have a great day 💛💛💛

@budibbly

Romantic Matchup

Tendou Satori

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐚'𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐭

Ok picture this...

Shonen Jump just came out with a new LIMITED EDITION magazine

These things are just disappearing off shelves

BUT

There is one. Singular. Copy in the store you are currently at

Obviously you see it

And OBVIOUSLY your gonna go get it!

However when you reach to grab it your hand touched the hand of the one and only

Tendou Satori

Both of you had a deadly tight grip on this magazine rn

Neither of you are backing down

You look him dead in the eyes

“I’m sorry sir but I do believe I touched this first”

He looked right back at you

“I’m sorry ma’am but I’m pretty sure I was the one who touched it first”

You both went back and forth bickering about who should get to have the magazine

And that’s when Tendou came out with the GENIUS idea of...

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

Simple, whoever wins gets the magazine

Thus the match began

Long story short Tendou lost 2-1

Seeing his sad face you decided to be nice and offered to read it together at the nearby park

Of course he was gonna agree this is SHONEN JUMP WERE TALKING ABOUT

So you both headed to the park to read

Honestly you busted out the entire magazine within an hour

And after you finished it you two talked about it for about another hour

And shit since you we’re both at the park, why not have a little fun

You guys spent the rest of the day messing around on the playground

You know... harassing kids and shit

And when it was time to go home you both agreed to meet back up next week to discuss more manga

This became sort of a routine for you two

Every Friday you guys would meet up somewhere and talk about or read some manga

And then afterwards you two would go find something fun to do

And over time he started having feelings for you

But poor boy was to scared to tell you

But lucky for him, you also grew to have feelings for him

So YOU where actually the one to confess :D

And he obviously said yes :)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Omg cheesy moment real quick

He loves your smile

Absolutely fricken adores it

Like he will do ANYTHING to see you smile

He loves how positive you can be!

Sometimes Tendou can get a little down on himself

But you can always pick him back up and get him smiling again!!

And he gladly does the same for you :)

Honesty

He likes the fact that you get a little jealous 👀

To him it just shows that you care a lot about him

Annnnd last one

He loves the fact that you enjoy manga as well :D

Because you both have something to do together that you both enjoy!

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

Ok so he obviously likes reading manga with you

HOWEVER

One of his favorite things to do with you is

🥁 🥁 🥁

Exploring mythology with you!!

Honestly tendous kinda into that witchy type of aesthetic

So mythology, crystals, spirits, he’s ALL for it

One time he even invited you ghost hunting ❤️

Fun times

But I’m pretty sure y’all have a ghost tied to you 😀

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐜

Tendou loves taking you to haunted places!

He genuinely thinks he can talk to ghosts...

He always links your conspiracy theories to paranormal activity

He loves to meditate with you

Especially before a game 😁

He says it “grounds” him

Ever since y’all met you take turns buying weekly shonen jump magazines and snacks

Ok Tendou likes painting

But he ALWAYS makes a mess

Why?

Because he specifically likes FINGER painting 🥲

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

When Taurus and Virgo come together in a love affair, it’s a union of innate practicality.

Both of these Signs employ practicality in their daily lives as the most efficient means to most problems.

They can be quite sincere and devoted to one another; as people, both have a great deal of integrity.

Virgo likes Taurus’s strength and dedication while Taurus appreciates Virgo’s quick mind.

Due to Virgo’s naturally cautious nature, this relationship can take awhile to develop, but once it’s established that both partners are in it for the long haul, it’s like a runaway locomotive, running on its own power and difficult to stop.

These two Signs have much in common: They highly value common sense and practicality; they’re both materialistic but work hard for the creature comforts they so enjoy.

Taurus is more sensual and indulgent than Virgo is; Virgo tends to be the inhibitive force in the relationship, tending not to get involved in the chaos of life in favor of analyzing all available options.

Virgo’s analysis leads to criticism, which Taurus can tend to take too seriously. Conversely, Taurus’s stubborn nature can get on Virgo’s nerves, causing Virgo to criticize even more!

This pair must take care not to take one another too seriously.

The good thing is, they’re similar enough that they can learn to be patient with one another, especially Virgo, who loves to indulge Taurus’s penchant for fine treatment and good food.

Their dedication to working toward the same goals.

Both partners enjoy luxury and nice things, and Virgo likes helping Taurus achieve their goals.

Their common interests and desires make theirs a highly compatible relationship.

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝓜𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼 ✨ 🔮 ✨

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu matchups #Tendou #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n

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thehouseoflamentation · 4 years

Note

could we get some headcanons for the boys with tails? where their tails act like an animals and react to their emotions but also subconsciously rap around their s/o! and that s/o touching them can make them melt please 🥺 btw your blog is fantastic!! thank you so much for all your work!! 💕💕💕

Thank you!! And thanks for this ask! I’ve been thinking about what the boys would be like with tails for awhile now. Since you asked for tails I’ll only be focusing on that not their wings also I will try to do this based on what animals the guys reference ^^

(In the very first chapter/lesson there are some images in the background that show what animal pertains to which brother based on their order)

Lucifer - Peacock

His tail is like a peacock’s but perhaps a bit darker in color. It's rather long and can be quite a nuisance when he’s moving around so he often tries to keep it curled around either of his legs.

When he’s angry he’ll either raise his tail or use it to give a quick smack at whoever pissed him off in the first place *coughMammoncough*. When he’s happy his tail will wag just the slightest bit and when he feels especially confident or wants to show off he’ll spread his tail feathers.

Lucifer isn’t keen on others touching his tail since its a symbol of his pride but when he allows you to touch it he melts internally at the sensation of your fingers gently gliding across each feather. The more you do it the more relaxed he gets and the more he’ll spread his tail out. He doesn’t usually do this but when Lucifer wraps his tail around your leg it's a discrete signal that he wants some special alone time with you (I’m sure you know where this is going).

Mammon - Crow/Raven

His tail is mainly made up of large black feathers. They aren’t as long as Lucifer’s but they’re much more expressive when it comes to showing emotion. Since the feathers jut out and aren’t as long or flexible he has to be careful whenever his tail is out or he’ll end up knocking things over if he moves or turns around too fast.

When he’s mad his tail feathers either point up or spread out. When he’s scared or feels threatened they point down. When he’s feeling pumped up or if he’s found a Grimm lying on the ground his tail will twitch or flutter with excitement.

His tail isn’t quite long enough to wrap around your leg but he will try to flex it around your waist to pull you in closer to him when he wants your attention. He gets super embarrassed when you touch his tail and it’ll puff up on reflex. Unfortunately having his tail all puffed up just makes you want to touch it more making Mammon blush and feel like he’s slowly melting into a puddle.

Leviathan - Snake

Leviathan’s tail is long, black, and snakelike; covered with smooth scales from the base to the tip. Since it’s so long he keeps it wrapped around his waist or one of his legs to avoid tripping or having others step on it.

Levi’s tail is long but its too slim to be prehensile and can’t lift up his body weight. It is rather useful for swimming though! His tail sometimes has a mind of its own and will appear to move around randomly if he isn’t actively controlling it. When he’s mad or defensive his tail will curl around him ready to smack anything that comes too close. If he’s sad his tail will seem to drag behind him as he walks. When he’s really happy his tail will instinctively wiggle from side to side making a little wave or zigzag motion.

His tail is very sensitive but the most sensitive areas are at the base and the tip. When you stroke his tail the sensation travels up his spine and makes him shiver and melt at the same time. When you do this his tail usually coils around your hand and arm, not enough to hurt you but just enough to give you a little squeeze as if to say “please keep going!” When his tail wraps around your leg it's usually a reflex or accident but it makes Levi hide his face in his hoodie. Sometimes his tail is just more honest of his emotions than he is.

Satan - ??? (His symbol is a unicorn but his demon form shows a spiky tail so I’ll go with the spiky tail)

Satan’s tail is spiny and make up of rough scales that are black at the base and midsection and green at the tip. His tail is snakelike but isn’t as smooth or long as Levi’s. It makes for the perfect defense mechanism on short notice, able to deeply lacerate anything that he strikes at.

When he’s angry, Satan curls his tail around his leg tighter and tighter, resisting the urge to lose control of his temper. When he’s sad his tail will uncurl from his leg and just hang by itself behind him. When he’s happy his tail will sway side to side a bit, not enough to slash someone's ankles but enough to show that he’s in a good mood.

When you touch his tail he always warns you to be careful otherwise your fingers might get cut on the sharp ends. Even though his tail appears very tough it is actually sensitive to touch so sometimes he can’t help but blush when you play with it. He avoids wrapping his tail around your leg since you might get hurt but he sometimes lets the tip of his tail tap you near your shoes if he wants to get your attention.

Asmodeus - Scorpion

You never expected the Avatar of Lust who prides himself on beauty would have such an intimidating tail. Asmodeus’s tail is dark red and shaped somewhat like a scorpion’s. Fortunately the stinger doesn’t necessarily contain venom but rather a very power aphrodisiac along with a bit of numbing agent. The numbing helps so that a person won’t feel pain from the sting while the aphrodisiac is powerful enough to make a person want to fulfill their deepest, naughtiest desires.

Asmodeus usually keeps his tail wrapped around his wait to make sure he doesn’t accidentally stab others with it. When he’s angry or if he’s being threatened his tail will extend upwards ready to strike if something goes wrong. The weight of the tail itself can knock another demon down if a successful strike makes contact. When he’s sad he’ll wrap his tail around one of his legs. If he’s happy his tail will stay curled behind his back.

Asmodeus reflexively twitches his tail whenever you touch or stroke it. The surface of his tail is smooth so it feels rather nice for him. He makes sure to bend his tail slightly when you want to touch it so that the stinger is pointed away from you. Asmo being Asmo can’t help but feel a bit turned on when you do this since his back along with his tail are very sensitive. He likes to use his tail to wrap around your waist and pull you close but since it has a stinger at the end he hesitates to curl it around your legs.

Beelzebub - Uhh...a fly??? but...they don’t….they don’t have tails???

Beel’s “tail” looks like the end segment of a dragonfly. Its smooth, has a reddish orange color, and has a shiny, iridescent appearance. Beel doesn’t usually show off his tail much since it can be rather difficult to handle. It is not very flexible and extends to about three to four feet from his lower back making it difficult to go around the dorms without knocking over objects.

When he is mad his tail will point slightly upward similar to Asmo. When he is sad it points down and when he is happy it points straight out. Unfortunately since his tail is stiff he can’t really curl his tail around you but that just means he needs to wrap one of his arms around you instead.

When you touch his tail you’re initially surprised by how smooth it feels. If anything it somewhat reminds you of armor due to how hard and shiny it is. Beel thinks its cute whenever you ask to play with his tail and he gladly lets you even though he can’t help but giggle due to how ticklish his tail is.

Belphegor - Cow

Belphegor’s tail is similar to a cow’s tail but much bigger and longer. His tail also has a soft bushy part at the very tip. If there are no pillows in sight and he is in dire need of a nap he’ll curl up with his tail and use the fluffy end to rest his head on.

When he’s mad Belphegor rapidly beats his tail back and forth as if he’s warming himself up for a fight. When he’s sad his tail will droop and curl behind him and when he’s happy his tail will point up and wag gently. Unlike his brothers Belphie won’t wrap his tail around himself but he will lift it up to avoid dragging it on the floor.

When you first played with his tail he let out a yelp not out of pain just out of sensitivity from the sudden contact. The warmth from your fingers made him feel like he was going to melt starting from his tail and continuing to the rest of his body. When you two nap he would automatically wrap his tail around your legs or waist, drawing you in closer to cuddle.

#obey me!#shall we date #shall we date?#obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #ask #obey me! headcanon #headcanon

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

Lies, Damned Lies, and Valentine’s

Day 7 of the valentine’s day event, Whole Team

“Have the RED team vandalized us in the middle of the night?” Medic asked, gazing around the common room which had been papered with tiny hearts. “What is with all the pink?”

“Ach, it’s Valentine’s day, boyo!” Demo told him with a hearty slap on the back. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Medic adjusted his glasses, which had fallen out of place with the overzealous display of masculine affection. “My wife and I are…estranged. I have not celebrated a Valentine’s day in a very long time.”

“Well, so long as you made your cards, you’re celebrating just fine.” When Medic didn’t respond, Demo pressed a, “you did make some cards, right lad?”

“Cards for who? I told you I have not spoken to-”

“For the team ya quack,” Demo snorted. “We always make cards for each other on Valentine’s day.”

“…Like kindergarteners,” Medic asked drily.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud doc,” Demo elbowed him. “It’s a tradition.”

Medic crossed his arms, and kicked a small paper heart that had fallen on his shoe. “Well no one told me about it.”

At that, Demo finally paused. “Ah, I suppose everyone forgot to mention it to the rookie. Don’t worry though!” This time, Medic dodged the pat aimed at his shoulder. “Everyone knows you only got here a month or so ago, they won’t hold you to any obligations.”

“What a relief.” Medic rolled his eyes.

He was able to put the ridiculous conversation out of his mind thanks to the oncoming battle, slinging on his pack with a feeling of purpose. Dealing with REDs and avoiding Spies took most of his concentration, as a day that he went about distracted was a day he’d find quite a few Sniper shots through his head. However, as much as he’d dismissed Valentine’s by the midday break that afternoon, it appeared his teammates hadn’t.

He’d followed Heavy to the cover of the sentry nest, but as his partner was filling up Sasha, he noticed that Engie had laid out a few pieces of folded paper on top of the dispenser. Medic wandered closer. It took him a moment to parse what he was seeing, but then he remembered the travesty that had become of the common room and realized Demo had been dead serious about Valentine’s Day. Engineer’s valentines were spread out neatly, all unique, all cheerfully signed by members of the team. Scout had draw a rather good rendition of the man himself standing next to his sentry, a little heart between them. Sniper had written ‘THANKS TRUCKIE’ in block letters. Even Soldier had put in some effort, as he had used red, white, and blue construction paper to make what might have been the shape of Texas if you squinted enough.

Nearby, Pyro was showing off their own collection. Scout had also drawn a picture for them (of Mayor Balloonicorn), which they had delicately set in the grass, their other cards out before them. The one from Engie they were attacking with vigor, since the Engineer had been forward thinking enough to glue tiny pieces of candy to the folded paper.

“They’re all real nice Pyro,” he was chuckling. “Though maybe put them back in your pocket? Don’t want them to get dirty.”

Pyro nodded, and began shuffling them back into a pouch within their chemsuit.

“They take this very seriously, don’t they?” Medic noted absently about the pair.

Heavy, having loaded on the ammo required, turned and saw Medic mulling over Engineer’s cards. “Oh, da! Every year. We do not spend holidays together, so for team, is closest thing.”

As he spoke, he reached into his front pocket. Something with Demo’s handwriting dashed all over it appeared in his hand, obnoxiously saccharine with its copious hearts and overuse of the color red. Yet the Heavy Weapons Guy displayed it proudly, and Medic offered him a wry smile.

“I had no idea,” Medic mused.

“…Team forget to tell you?” Heavy rumbled. “Heavy see. Heavy wondered why doctor did not give him one.”

Medic coughed lightly into his hand. “I wasn’t aware until this morning-”

“No, is alright. Heavy’s little joke.” He patted Medic on the shoulder, which was (surprisingly) more reserved than Demo’s attempt at the same. “We kill RED babies, that is gift enough, da?”

Medic agreed, and followed him off into battle. However, this time the threat of the loving spirit stuck, and Medic found himself skewered on the end of the Spy’s knife more than he was comfortable with. He tried to shake himself, to forget his teammates’ foolish obsession, but one thought kept rankling him: he might have not known to send out cards, but why hadn’t anyone gotten him anything?

They returned to BLU base with an embarrassing loss on their collars, though you wouldn’t know by looking. Everyone was in the common showing of their haul, passing around heart shaped cookies that someone had made last night and stuffed in the fridge. Medic tried one, and nearly gagged on how much sugar had been crammed into such a small package.

Apparently everyone had gotten the same memo about Demo’s cards, as each one came with a tiny novel vodka attached. Demo peeled off the last one (from Soldier with a picture of a shovel on it, saying simply I Dig You) with the utmost care, lining them up next to his whiskey bottle.

“Look!” he grinned to Soldier. “Me scrumpy’s birthed a litter!”

Soldier, who had taken to taping his own cards to his helmet, slapped him on the back. “Congratulations! You’re a grandfather!”

Scout, like Pyro, couldn’t help but flaunt his, claiming that he got the most out of anyone. When Sniper pointed out that everyone got seven cards, he pivoted to say, “yeah well mine are the best, quality over quantity Snipes.”

Medic shouldn’t have been irritated. He didn’t care about Valentine’s Day, not in the slightest, so why was he getting so terse about his teammates’ holiday cheer? Of course they didn’t get cards for the rookie, they probably would have gotten cards for their old Medic, not him.

That thought itself would have put anyone in a sour mood, but the tipping point was when he walked the corner and saw Spy delicately arranged bits of red-hued paper into a manila folder, smiling slightly as he set the last one down. Medic was close enough to read, saw Sniper’s handwriting, and also that the poem it was quoting was incomplete. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. / I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. The next two lines were missing— Medic knew enough of poetry to glean that—which meant Sniper probably had the other half. All shuffled always with the other ones he’d gotten from Scout and Engie and Demo and whoever, but the most important thing Medic could determine from the display was all those people had given Spy valentines too. Spy. Medic’s eye twitched. Before he knew it he was barreling past Spy, out past the others in order to get to the hallway. There were a couple exclamations of confusion, a few calls asking what was wrong, but Medic ignored them all.

He didn’t need their obligatory attempts to include him, he could see when he wasn’t wanted.

“Doctor! Wait!”

He considered not stopping for the deep voice behind him, but unless he wanted to go charging off onto the battlefield, his path would eventually take him back around base. He sighed, and turned to face the man behind him.

“Can I help you?” Medic snapped. There was no use pretending he wasn’t miffed.

“What is the matter?” Heavy asked. “Have not seen you this angry before.”

“Well that is not a big surprise considering we barely know each other, apparently.” Medic crossed his arms.

Heavy furrowed his brow. Always a man of few words, he either didn’t know what to say, or figured it was better not to antagonize Medic further, and so he settled for waiting for his teammate to elaborate.

Medic relented eventually, shoulders sagging as he exhaled. “I realize I am not…part of the team so to speak. I understand I am not as close to you all as your old Medic was, and I do not blame you for not including me, but it is still…difficult to watch everyone open cards and…not receive any myself.” God it sounded so childish when he said it allowed. He was a doctor for god’s sake! He should be above such petty jealousies.

As his self consciousness closed in, he hunched, and failed to look at Heavy. It took the man saying, “doctor did not get valentines? Is not possible,” for Medic to turn back around and see him shaking his head. “At very least, Heavy give card.”

“You…?” Medic unfolded his arms. “When?”

Heavy raised an eyebrow. “Did doctor not check locker?” When Medic blinked, Heavy added, “is where we put at start of day, so none get lost.”

“…Just like in kindergarten,” Medic finished the thought and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God I am such a dummkopf.”

Heavy chuckled, clearly glad to have resolved the situation. “Medic is far from. Come, we look now.”

So Medic did come, entering resupply and walking to his locker, taking a moment to brace himself as he grasped the handle. He turned it. Immediately, he was hit with an avalanche of purple, pink, and red, an absolute tidal wave of valentines rushing out to greet him from where they’d been conglomerating inside his locker like a clogged artery.

There were so many, decorated all with his class symbol or words of thanks. Pyro had made at least four, decorated with crayons and rainbow drawings, sticking slightly where the paint hadn’t dried. Medic picked one off the floor. Scout had drawn Archimedes beautifully, which was astounding considering the two hadn’t gotten along since the Über incident, and it must have been quite a strain to sit still long enough to capture the bird’s likeness. Engie had detailed out a list over every time Medic had saved his bacon in the past month, Spy had written something long and oddly heartfelt, Soldier had gifted him a coupon for one free haircut. The list went on.

It took Heavy gently touching his shoulder while he read Sniper’s uncharacteristically kind letter to realize he was holding his hand over his mouth. He cleared his throat, but despite that still couldn’t find words.

“Medic is part of team,” Heavy stated, matter of fact. “We appreciate. Do not forget that.”

Medic’s eyes fell on a large card, tucked behind the Quick-Fix in the back of the locker so it hadn’t come tumbling out with the rest. This one was unquestionably from Heavy. Medic wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did.

Delicately, he reached out and took it, seeing it was nearly the size of a proper book, made out of two pieces of paper tied with a string. He gently gazed over the words inside, drinking them all in, and then softly spoke, “thank you mein friend.”

“Is no trouble.” Heavy squeezed his shoulder, and Medic could tell his friend was smiling by the chuckle in his voice. “Now! We go. Back to party, doctor should get to show off his cards too.”

“Yes, lets. But ah…not this one though,” Medic finished, softly folding Heavy’s card back up. “This one I will keep here.”

Heavy smiled. “If doctor likes.” With that, Medic followed him back to the party.

#dontneedavalentine2021 #heavymedic

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tuanhood · 4 years

Text

delta

pairing: professional frat!jackson wang x reader

genre: lot of fluff, pining from afar, professional frat

warnings: none

word count: 3,700+

summary: when you joined your school’s co-ed professional frat all you had wanted was to get valuable business connections and resources that could help you in your future career. you really didn’t think you would end up with a huge fat crush on mr. popular.

a/n: soooo this one is a little different because I know everyone always writes fics about jackson being the guy who throws the party or the kinda party boy type so I wanted to do something less expected and lil more soft. also this is unedited and lowkey a mess but :) yeehaw a post.

You weren’t sure whether to scream or cry.

All you knew was that you wanted Jackson Wang. Badly.

Most of the girls that tended to crowd around him simply fell at his feet for his ridiculously good looks – which you had to agree was true – but you wanted more than just that. You wanted everything that Jackson was and is. His looks, his sense of humor, his kindness and his brain. You had been addicted to him since you joined Delta Sigma Pi at the beginning of the school year and you had to do something before you overdosed.

It hadn’t been your intentions to fall so head over heels for someone who you had mostly admired from afar and talked to in passing, but you really couldn’t help it. You had become a part of Delta Sigma Pi only for the possible connections it could bring you in your future. If you had wanted to join something more social you would have rushed a sorority like some of the girls in your dorm Freshman year.

In fact, you were pretty against everything the Greek system stood for and advertised, but when you had heard of co-ed professional fraternities that aimed to help students make connections in their chosen profession and encourage advancement, you changed your mind. Instead of an organization that prided itself on binge drinking and toxic behavior, you joined Deltasig – a business fraternity for male and female students that centered on “professional” activities and fundamentals.

Of course, there were still “social” gatherings amongst the conferences, workshops and service activities that filled most of the members’ schedules. The social events were never really your thing – you’d much rather focus on advancing your future then drunk on a dance floor and squished in between two of the brothers you took a startup workshop with. You started to avoid and skip that aspect of Deltasig until you had taken notice of Jackson.

To be completely honest you had noticed Jackson long before you started getting little butterflies in your stomach every time you were in a room with him, but it wasn’t until two months into the school year that things changed.

You had shown up rather early to one of the weekly meetings – finishing class an hour before and not wanting to go all the way back home, then back up to campus. You had settled down at one of the tables and decided to take out your sketchbook to kill some time, not expecting anyone else to show up until at most thirty minutes before the meeting start time. With your hectic schedule this year and a heavy class load, it wasn’t often anymore that you could find time to work on your clothing sketches. It was your dream to have your own fashion label and company – an avenue where you could be creative through designing and also be a ball busting career woman with her own business to run. You hoped joining Deltasig would help you there.

It wasn’t until you had finished the shading of a winter coat that you realized you weren’t alone.

“Nice design.”

The deep voice had startled you – so much so that your pencil had fallen from your grasp and made its way to nearly the other side of the room. “Shit. Sorry about that,” you looked up from the table to be met with probably the brownest eyes you had ever seen. Your minimal encounters with Jackson before hadn’t prepared you for this up-close moment where all you could focus on was every little detail on his perfect face, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Immediately, you positioned your eyes down and back to the sketchbook not wanting to creep him out at how much you apparently now loved staring at him.

“Totally fine,” you mumbled, still not daring to look back at him. You had heard so many girl – not just in Deltasig but all over campus talking about how mesmerizing Jackson Wang was. Legend has it that once you make direct eye contact with him, you’re placed under an unbreakable spell and become his forever. That kind of talk had always made you laugh. How could a human being – just a person has the capabilities to make another human being feel that way? Maybe it was because you had never been into the social partying thing or really ever had time to date due to your focus on designing clothes, but you couldn’t understand it. That was until that day.

More silence had settled between you and Jackson. You figured that by the way you were reacting, he probably thought you were rude. Somehow in your mind you had comprehended that maybe Jackson hating your guys would actually help you. If he didn’t like you then he would ultimately spend less time around you, therefore you would no longer have to feel whatever it was you were feeling as a result to being around him for less than two minutes.

“Let me get your pencil for you,” it was like you couldn’t make use of your body properly. As soon as he said it, you found your head whipping up to look at him go to the spot where your long-forgotten drawing utensil had landed. Your brain had repeatedly said “no look away” as Jackson leaned down to grab it, but your head remained stagnant in its place, eyes fixated on his back and the way his shoulder muscles moved.

Luckily you found yourself snapping out of the Wang induced trance as he stood up and turned back to return the pencil. To you it felt like you were being obvious and acting like a complete lunatic, but to sweet clueless Jackson he thought nothing strange of it.

“Here ya go. Sorry again,” Jackson smiled as he placed the pencil down on the table near the sketchbook, “you’re really good by the way. Is fashion design the reason why you joined?”

As much as you had wanted to respond to him, your mouth felt dry and your stomach churned in anxiety, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Instead, you nodded in response and despite your clear hesitations in conversing with him, Jackson smiled once again, “well that’s awesome. We’re really happy to have you in the frat Y/N.”

That was the last thing he had said to you before heading to his seat to also wait for other members to show up and start the meeting. The fact that Jackson Wang had knew your name made you want to blush and hide under a rock all in the same moment.

Ever since then you tried to push down your feelings for Jackson. You had heard crazy things about him – that he was very much into the small “social” part of Deltasig and even partook in a partying life outside of the org. That life wasn’t necessarily for you and that gave you more reasons to shove your daily fantasies of you and Jackson married with two children and successful companies out of your mind.

Despite all that talk of the kind of life Jackson led, you couldn’t ignore the way he acted at meetings and frat events. The way he would always encourage whoever had the floor to share an idea or concern, the way he would make sure to laugh twice as hard at someone’s joke if no one thought it was funny and especially the way he carried himself during workshops. He went from kind and alluring goofball to professional businessman. You loved a man with duality.

Then you started going to the Deltasig mixers and no longer could you ignore your feelings. It was all downhill from there.

They weren’t the average frat party where hundreds of people would show up and overall chaos would occur. Instead, the parties were more on the scale of just friends getting together to have a good time. Discovering that notion made you feel more open and comfortable in this kind of setting and you told yourself that was the reason you started going. Not because Jackson would always be in attendance.

You tried to be the average partygoer, but every time you would find your eyes drifting over to Jackson who was always in the middle of telling a story, dramatically using his arms to emphasize certain points. The smile he would get on his face when the person he was talking to would nod and laugh along made you feel even more sucked in. You weren’t even apart of the conversation but you felt Jackson’s charisma and just overall goodness in every part of you.

Then at a certain point during the party – every single time – you swear you could sense Jackson looking at you. You never look to see if you’re right and you’re unsure of what scares you more – being wrong or being right.

And now as you stood here, at probably the seventh Deltasig social you had been to, you once again watched the countless other girls in your frat fawn over Jackson. The girls obsessing over him and trying to get his attention wasn’t a new thing, after all this was the seventh time you were experiencing it. Only this time it was getting to you a lot more than before.

It was mostly being caused from the fifth – or was it the sixth? – “special” mixed drink Mark had made you in the kitchen.

“I don’t know I just throw in whatever sounds like it would be good,” he had said.

That had been good enough for you.

“Let me know if you decide to go for the MBA, my dad’s on the board of admissions at Northwestern and could totally help. Anything for that extra edge, right?”

It’s difficult to ignore how loud Hana is trying to sell her connections to Jackson. As if that’s what’s going to make him interested in her. Why would you want to be with a guy if all he liked about you was the fact your dad could write him a cushy letter of recommendation? She’s not the first however, and she’s certainly not the last.

Jackson smiled at her and you can’t help but smile in return from across the backyard. You’ve identified practically every different type of Jackson Wang smile and based off the way his mouth stretches across his face along with his eyes fixated downwards, it’s the “I’m smiling just to be nice” smile. It makes you satisfied.

“I’m good for now, but I’ll definitely let you know if anything changes. Thanks Hana, you’ve always been so helpful.” It amazed you how he could be so genuine with everyone about nearly everything. It certainly didn’t fit the picture of the Jackson who apparently always parties. But what did you know?

Hana smiled once more at Jackson before she cut her losses and headed back into house. You waited to see who the next contestant would be to try their tricks on Jackson. You watched and watched, looking at Jackson and surveying his every move. It wasn’t long before you realized that you had been staring at Jackson for an unfathomable amount of time – a clear sign that the alcohol had hit you. You didn’t drink ever and it felt like the effects of Mark’s special mixed drinks had come all at once.

“Y/N are you okay?”

It felt like you were getting lost in trance after trance, as though you couldn’t focus on one thing entirely. Your thoughts were so scattered you didn’t even notice Jackson’s approach.

“Y/N?”

Since you had started coming to the Deltasig socials you had never directly spoken to Jackson. Sure, during meetings and workshops there would be a word or two that would be exchanged between the two of you, but never a real conversation. Those were also under more professional circumstances and even though this was still a “professional frat” event, it didn’t have the same implications.

Blinking, you snapped out of your daze and looked at Jackson on your side, “y-yeah. I’m fine… just- why does it seem like I’m not okay?” Rather than the teasing tone you wanted to convey; you came off as genuinely concerned for yourself. Which was… good?

He sipped from the red cup he was holding and you feel yourself lose focus once again – this time on his pink heart shaped lips. “You were just kind of staring at me… for like a long time.”

Sober you would be embarrassed, but drunk you smiled at his words. Despite staring – something that was weird – Jackson still made you feel comfortable, like it wasn’t a strange thing to do.

“Oh yeah sorry. I was just enjoying the view,” you almost want to bite your tongue at how candid you are, but you figured that the Jackson that everyone knows and loves would just smile and shrug it off like he always does.

Instead you ended up being surprised, “oh really… and what view is that?”

You swear that the alcohol is playing with your mind, because even if Jackson is saying that to you, then it certainly can’t be in the tone that you think it is. It was hard to distinguish what was real and what was in your head.

“Just you,” drunk you is very surprising, but you kind of liked her.

You tried to read Jackson’s face, but for once you couldn’t. Instead of one of the smiles you had memorized and etched into your brain, you were taken aback to be met with Jackson’s blank face. For someone who was always smiling, it made you feel like you had whiplash at his out of character demeanor. “Y/N… I think you’re drunk.”

You were drunk? Okay yes… maybe you were, but after spending the party staring at Jackson and all of these months watching is every move it was clear that you were drunk on more than just alcohol. You’ve been drunk for months and right now was the tipping point.

“No. YOU’RE drunk.” You couldn’t believe that out of all the things you could say in response, you had chosen the one where you accuse him of being drunk. Jackson furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked down at the cup in his hand, “that would be impossible considering the fact that I don’t drink.”

Now you were the one left confused. After all the things you had heard surrounding Jackson, him not drinking didn’t really match with that, “are you sure?”

A smile stretched across his face and he lets out a little laugh. Your heart warms when you realized it’s one of his better smiles – his “that’s so funny, please tell me more” smile. If you had to spend the rest of your life seeing that smile, you’d never have a reason to be upset ever again.

“I’m sure I don’t drink alcohol.”

Your eyes widened at his reveal, “what? You don’t drink? The Jackson Wang? Party animal?”

It’s then you notice that most everyone else has left the backyard to go inside. The table that had once been full of drinks and surrounded by groups of people was suddenly cleared and deserted. You could still make out a hum coming from inside the house where people were still continuing the kickback, but from the empty backyard you suddenly felt so removed from it all.

Jackson takes a step closer to you, and frowns. At this point your mind is too hazy to analyze what kind of frown it is. Whether it’s a genuine frown or one of Jackson’s pouty frowns he wears when he gets teased by his friends, “Party animal? Where’s that coming from?”

You shrugged, “it’s just what I’ve heard… ya know through the grapevine.”

“Well I’m definitely not a party animal, so let’s clear that up now.”

“I just thought since everyone always-” you began, but he abruptly cut you off seeming a bit annoyed – something you hadn’t seen from him before, “Well not everyone knows what I’m actually like. They just make assumptions, I guess… I didn’t think you were like that though.”

The way he says the last part isn’t out of anger or annoyance, instead he sounds disappointed which makes you feel even worse. You grow quiet, your head beginning to hurt – unsure if it’s from Jackson’s reaction or the alcohol, you crouch down to the ground and place your head in your hands.

Jackson crouches down beside you out of concern and you’re barely able to make out his question of whether you’re okay or not. All you hear is an annoying ringing sound and Jackson and the yard in front of you begins to spin.

“I’m never drinking again,” you mumbled mostly to yourself, but you hear Jackson chuckle.

You feel yourself freeze and the ringing go away when Jackson reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your hair, “you probably shouldn’t have had any of Mark’s drinks. They’re known to be lethal.”

“How did you know I had Mark’s drinks?”

This time it’s Jackson’s turn to freeze, his cheeks heating up, “just… took notice I guess.”

Jackson Wang had noticed you? You knew that he was attentive, the caring kind of guy who always looked after his friends, but this was different. It made the world stop spinning and your headache magically disappear as if you had been granted some sort of clarity.

You felt words on the tip of your tongue that could embarrass yourself further in front of Jackson. So much so that it could drive you to drop out of Deltasig and kiss your hopes and dreams of making connections in the business world goodbye. But the haze of the alcohol and Jackson’s big brown eyes right in front of you provoked you to let the words out.

“I always notice you Jackson.”

As soon as the words are out in the open, you look down at the ground not wanting to meet Jackson’s gaze, just as you had the day, he caught you drawing in your sketchbook. The silence that looms between the two of you feels heavy as it’s not often that Jackson’s left speechless. Even in awkward situations he always has something to say or a way to break the tension. You had seen it countless times before with all of the groupies in the frat that hang around him, so why now did he have nothing left to say?

You cleared your throat, “anyways… maybe I should get going since I’m drunk and all…” Despite your words you made no effort to get up off the ground, instead you felt yourself nervously tug at the grass around your feet still waiting for a word from Jackson.

Finally, after what felt like forever you felt like you could breathe.

“Is it the same way that I notice you?”

You know what he means, you know exactly what he means and it makes your heart stop. Your fingers leave the newest tuft of grass that you’ve pulled out of the ground and look back to Jackson. You’ve never seen him look so small and shy before; the alcohol makes you want to wrap your arms around him. Nodding at his question, you see a smile appear on his face. A smile that you haven’t seen before, one that you haven’t memorized and analyzed.

He licks his lips, “Y/N… I’ve never really been interested in parties or these stupid socials… I only really started going because I thought you would be there. I wanted to come up to you so many times, but… I just chickened out. I know we don’t know each other that well, but ever since you joined Deltasig I can’t get you out of my head. I only joined the frat to keep in mind what’s really important to me – my future – and I never thought much about making friends or,” he paused, “dating… It just wasn’t on my mind. But then I met you and I don’t know what it is… whenever I’m in a room with you I can’t stop looking at you. Ugh, that probably sounds psychotic, doesn’t it?”

You’re hanging on every word of his confession and soon find yourself laughing when he reaches the end. This entire time you had thought Jackson was this super cool, unattainable guy who paid you no mind. That he was the kind of person who was nice to everyone and had an aura to him that caused him to be labeled as one of the members of Deltasig that loved to party. But that was all wrong… Apparently, he was just like you.

“Are you laughing because you find me creepy or is it because of the alcohol?”

When you finally catch your breath, you fan yourself feeling hot from your intoxicated state and the laughter that had consumed you, “actually neither. I’m laughing because I’ve felt the exact same way.”

His face lights up and you once again catch a glimpse of that new smile. It makes you position yourself closer to him, leaning in until you can feel his breath and he can hear your heartbeat.

Just as you lick your lips and are about to close your eyes, you feel him move his hand forward to brush your hair out of your face for the second time of the night. Jackson looks at you with such a fondness that he almost convinces you that you’re a fragile doll that needs to be protected.

“I really really want to kiss you… but not while you’re drunk.” His words make sense, but they cause you to pout. You wanted his lips on yours as soon as humanly possible.

Jackson looks at you shyly once again, “can I walk you home instead?”

You felt like this was the beginning of something, the beginning of something so big and so important that never seemed fathomable before. All you had really wanted was for Jackson to look at you the same way you looked at him. It was a simple request that you never thought would be fulfilled, but with your new favorite smile etched on Jackson’s face, you felt a new kind of electricity run through your body.

“I would love that.”

#got7 fanfic #got7 #jackson wang #jackson wang fanfic #got7 fic

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

CHAPTER 1

A/N: this is my Pacho x OC story. It is also slightly a Javier/OC story, which was unintended but here we are. My intention with Pacho here is to depict him as bisexual. If I ever get anything wrong, or if I need to clarify something, please tell me. Don’t be an ass about it, just tell me what I can do to improve it. TW: Slight depiction of a panic attack, swearing, some violence but its Narcos?? It should be expected I feel?

‘Thots” I mean ‘Thoughts’

“Italics” is them speaking Spanish, I was not about to fumble my way through Google Translate and hope that it made sense. Except for the first paragraph- that’s just a sneak peek at the future.

Gifs are from @scntacruz (go check out their stuff, if you love all things narcos/narcos mexico they are FABULOUS, their writing and gif sets are *chefs kiss*) and @lowndsiercs

A sharp ringing in her ears, a heavy object pinning her leg down, screams, shouts. This is all that she was aware of as she came too. ‘What happened?’ An explosion. Too close. Her eyes opened and she tried to focus on her surroundings but couldn’t. Everything was blurred, out of focus. A voice was shouting her name and all she could think was, ‘How the hell did I get myself into this mess?....Oh that’s right. A man.’

Blix had moved to Cali, Colombia about 2 years ago, with her then boyfriend. However, once he decided to show his true colors when he cheated on her in their bedroom, she left him. The problem was, she was all alone in Cali. Anyone she considered to be family was in New York. So, what was an American girl to do? She had her own money already, but it can be difficult to transfer money between countries.

Blix began working at a local bar to earn money, she lived in a small but nice townhouse near the downtown area. She did her best to create a new life and make the best out of a shitty situation.

When she wasn’t working at the bar, she was at a local park, drawing. She would draw portraits/landscapes, or caricatures. If the day was nice, she would bring chalk and draw on the sidewalks whatever came to mind. If she didn’t have any requests made during her time out there, she would simply draw whoever was walking around, or would just enjoy the feeling of the sun on her skin, the wind blowing her hair every which way.

Life was quite enjoyable, until one day when she made the mistake of drawing a few guys who were fooling around in the park, and one of them became suspicious of her. A few weeks later, she would meet a man who was nothing but trouble.

It had been a normal day; Blix had done a few fun caricatures of some kids who were playing in the park. She was idly staring around looking for some sort of inspiration before she packed up for the day. She heard them long before she saw them. About 5 guys, who were hooting & hollering, passing a joint between themselves. They talked loudly in Spanish about their latest conquests.

She thought, ‘Why not?’ and began to doodle them acting goofy.

While she was concentrating on the paper, one of the guys noticed her as she worked and glanced over at them multiple times. The man watched her with suspicion and quietly whispered to one of the others, who then took notice of her as well.

Blix finished up the caricatures and bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at what she drew. With a nod of her head at it, she began to pack up her things. As she walked away, she was unaware of the eyes that followed her as she made her way out of the park. She made her way home and changed clothes for work as soon as the supplies were put away.

The job itself was alright; it was fun meeting locals and getting local gossip. The pay was good, and the tips were better. Blix worked most nights, with the exception of Thursday and Friday (even though she often covered those nights anyway with how few staff there was). Her shift started at 6pm and ended usually at about 3am. It was currently about 5pm and the bar was only a 20-minute walk from her home.

As Blix got ready for work, across town, trouble was beginning to brew for her.

The five men from earlier that day, strutted into the mansion (or rather one of) of Gilberto Orejuela, and asked to speak with him promptly. Moments later they stood before him and explained their suspicions that a woman may have been gathering information on them at the park.

However, they were all hyped up and talked over one another to the point where, Miguel, Gilberto’s brother, spoke up, “Gentlemen, calm yourselves, and one of you tell us, what exactly you wish to tell us.”

“Don Miguel, there’s a woman who may have been gathering information on us at the park. We asked around and it seems no one really knows who she is other than she there at that park every day and works at a local bar, Caliente,” Marco informed looking directly at the brothers. “It is suspicious that an American woman, not only lives alone but also spends her time at 2 locations.”

“An American you say?” A third man questioned, as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“Yes, Don Pacho,” Marcos confirmed. “Shall we tail her to see who she gets into contact with?”

“Let us discuss this further, in private, and then we shall let you know,” Pacho ordered as he directed them to wait outside the office.

As they stepped outside, Gilberto’s daughter, Marta walked forward, wishing to speak with her father about wedding details. Pacho held one finger up and mouthed, “One moment,” before closing the doors again. Marta leaned against the wall next to the doors and could hear parts of the conversation through the wooden double doors.

She heard mentions of an American woman and a local bar, she furrowed her brow as she listened further. She schooled her expression when she heard someone walk toward the door again.

“Tail her, don’t let her onto you,” Pacho instructed the men waiting outside. “Miss Marta, your father is ready to talk to you.” As he swooped his arm back into the office, holding the door wide open for her.

“Hello father, do you have time to talk about some wedding details?” She asked as a plan formulated in her own mind.

Back with Blix, she began her shift at Caliente, taking over the bar for the owner, Jacque, who tended to work for at least the first hour of its opening. He asked her if she needed anything, and upon her denial, walked toward his office, where he would stay for most of the night.

The night began as it normally does, locals coming in for the first few hours and shooting the breeze. After about 11:30pm, it switched over to more of the younger crowd, and tourists. An hour into making a hundred fruity drinks and tequila shots, she sighed as a lull came in the number of drinks that were being requested.

Her boss stepped out of the office at that point and told her to take her break for the night, that he would take over. She nodded her head and rinsed off her hands, before walking around the counter.

She made her way outside and took a deep breath of relief as the cool air washed over her. She stood there for a moment, before heading across the street to a local vendor, who sold street tacos and burritos, and other portable foods for the drunks of the streets.

“Hello Mr. Martinez, how are you doing this evening?” Blix asked as she leaned against the counter of his food truck.

“Doing just fine little fox. How about you? And do you want your usual?” asked Henri Martinez, a man about in his 40s, with prominent laugh lines and a soft voice.

“I’m alright Henri. And yes, my usual please,” She responded pulling out cash to pay for it.

“Miss Bee! Hi!” came the enthusiastic voice of Henri son, Paulo. “Look what I have just for you!”

He lifted a box of soda, Pepsi to be exact, and said, “These are all for you and no one else, cause I remember you said you weren’t a big fan of Coca-Cola.”

Bix laughed at his enthusiasm and replied astonished, “I mentioned that like once, over a year ago? How did you remember that?”

“Because he has a crush on you,” Henri mumbled loudly, shaking his head.

Paulo glowered at his father as a blush creeped up on his face. Blix decided to save his embarrassment by stating, “Well, I thank you for getting these. I know it probably was a bit of a hassle to get.” She then leaned over and gave Paulo a small kiss on the cheek, in thanks.

His blush got deeper, and he handed one of the cans of Pepsi before he muttered a soft “You’re welcome,” before disappearing again.

“He’s been waiting all day to show you that. Now, he is forever in love with you, you know that?” Henri teased as he cooked.

Blix simply shrugged with a small smile. When she first began working at the bar, she often would simply get food and leave. One night, a couple of guys tried to harass her as she waited, and Henri scared them off with butcher knife. Seeing him and his family wound up becoming the highlight of her nights there and she always felt welcomed with them.

Soon she had her food, steak tacos, and her soda, so she quietly ate and talked with Henri about his day, and what’s currently going on with his family. It was as this went on that a woman, a little bit younger than Blix, walked up with two of her friends. They ordered food and stood nearby as they waited.

One of them looked at her curiously and politely asked, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt. But may I ask where are you from? Your accent is unusual.”

“No, that’s fine. I get asked that a lot. I am from the United States. Georgia to be exact, the Southern accent is hard to get rid of. Hell, I even lived in New York for quite some time and that didn’t get rid of it. May I ask, do I sound silly when I speak, or am I just pronouncing things weirdly?” Blix asked back feeling self-conscious about her Spanish.

“No! I’m sorry! I just meant. With most Spanish dialects you can tell when a person is from a different country because of how they say certain words. I could just tell, you weren’t Colombian, so I was just trying to figure out where you were from,” She responded frantically trying to assure her that her Spanish wasn’t terrible.

She nodded her head, “Fair assumption. I’m Blix by the way, and you?” She introduced as she held out her hand to shake.

“I am Marta, these are my friends Felicity, and Isabelle,” She informed her, grasping her hand to firmly shake it.

Blix waved at the other two and they waved back. Blix looked at the time and realized her break was about to be over. “Well, I gotta get back to work. When ya’ll are done eating, come across the way and I’ll make ya some damn good drinks,” She offered, as she threw her trash away and started to cross the street.

She took control again over the bar and returned to serving drinks. Within 20 minutes she saw Marta and her friends come inside and they order shots, and cosmos. They took a seat at one of the tables near the small dance floor and continued to enjoy their night. Blix tuned out the rest of the evening, working simply on muscle memory, as she made her concoctions and received payments/tips.

It got down to the last hour of the night, and as most of the bar had cleared out, Marta and her friends moved to the bar and chatted with Blix as she began the process of cleaning the dishes.

“It’s almost closing time, if there are any last-minute drinks you want, you should probably order them now,” Blix recommended as a waitress brought over a tub of dirty glasses, and bottles that needed to be recycled.

Marta smiled and requested, “Another round of shots, that you should join us on, and surprise us with a favorite of yours.”

Blix smiled and said, “I’ll do a shot, but it won’t be tequila, we don’t agree with one another.”

She poured out 3 shots of tequila and a shot of bourbon. They toasted, tapped their glasses to the countertop and downed them in one go. She then began to make one of her favorites, called Shark Bite.

She explained what was in it as she made it and handed them each a glass, and as Marta reached into her purse to pay for the drinks and the shots, Blix stopped her by stating, “These were on the house.”

They all said thank you and finished their drinks with about 15 minutes to spare before closing. They said their goodbyes, made sure their tabs were closed and headed out. Blix finished the dishes, and helped the waitresses clean up the tables, as their boss closed the register. She had her tips separated from the waitresses and after pocketing them, waved goodbye to everyone, and headed home.

Marta came back practically every night for the next two weeks, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. She was fun to talk to and she loved to talk about her wedding plans- one she said wasn’t going to happen for another 2 years, because of timing. She adored her fiancée and spent much of her time either gushing about him or ranting about her family.

One night, just before she decided to head out for the night, she asked Blix, “Hey, do you have any plans this weekend?”

Blix shook her head before replying, “No I actually have the weekend off, because Jacque is training a new bartender to help me out. Why? What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you would like to have brunch with me and my family? I need an outside opinion on wedding details,” she asked with smile.

“Sure. When and where?” Blix questioned as she made a Mai Tai for a customer.

“Just be ready about 10am, I’ll have a driver come get you?” She informed her before asking for her address.

Blix quickly scribbled it down onto a napkin and handed it to her with a wave as she began the next order that came in.

Saturday morning rolled around faster than Blix thought it would. She had dressed in simple green sundress that had thin straps and fell around her mid-thigh. She slipped on some black pumps and grabbed her purse when she heard a horn honk outside at around 9:57am.

As she made sure she had everything she needed she stepped outside with the door slightly open, just in case she needed to grab something really quick.

Once she had confirmed she had everything she needed, she closed the door and locked it, before stepping down toward the car.

A man with curly, reddish-brown hair, that was slightly receding stood there holding the car door open. She had an odd feeling about him, as though she knew him but could not quite place it. There was something alarming about his smile, Cheshire-like and toothy.

She shook it off thinking she was just being paranoid and stepped into the car. About 20 minutes later they were pulling into a gated home, that was large and imposing, with small gardens around.

When she stepped inside of the lavish home, it was to a very open living room where Marta sat, with four other men, laughing, and three women standing nearby. As Blix moved further in, her breath caught in her throat, and she had to quickly control herself as she walked over to Marta.

Sitting before her were the Gentlemen of Cali: Gilberto & Miguel Orejuela, Pacho Herrera, and Chepe Santacruz. She gave Marta a hug and Marta introduce her to the four men there, and her mother(s) (?). She smiled and shook hands with the brothers, Chepe gave the back of her hand a kiss and with a small, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

Pacho also kissed her hand and murmured a greeting, but as he looked at her if felt like he was staring into her soul. Like he could see her every dark secret.

She nodded her head in greeting and they all took a seat. Food was brought out and Marta pulled out some wedding books and a notepad to write on. As they talked and quietly munched on small sandwiches, Blix could feel them watching her every move and tried not to panic.

Brunch passed by faster than she thought it would, and as Marta left to go get swatches of patterns, she was left alone with these four men, who looked like the cats that caught the canary.

Blix took a small breath, and asked plainly, “You gentlemen clearly know who I really am, may we just cut to chase?”

The man who had escorted her there, dropped a thick manilla folder onto coffee table, that had her name written on it. Gilberto leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and inquired, “So, Agent Blix Lage of the FBI. What exactly brings you to Cali? You have been here for two years, and yet, no one seems to know much about you? We do know that part of your backstory- the cheating boyfriend thing- is a lie. So. Explain to me why I should not be concerned about you?”

“Nothing that has to do with the cartels. I’m FBI not DEA. I don’t know what I’ve done to get onto your radar, but I assure you that unless you’ve stolen valuable art, I have no interest in you,” She admitted with a shrug, her attempt at playing it cool beginning to rattle as her hands shook.

“Our boys here, seem to be under the impression that you were gathering information on them at the park, about 2 weeks ago,” Gilberto continued, gesturing to a group of men by the door.

Blix looked over at them and did not recognize any of them and said as much, “I’m sorry but I really have no clue who they are. It is possible I drew them, but that’s it. I don’t often remember random faces I see in the park. Sorry.”

One of them stepped forward and started to shout at her, calling her a lying whore amongst other things. Pacho held a hand up, effectively stopping him in his tracks and signaled for him to step back. The man does so, muttering under his breath angrily as he did.

Pacho looked directly at her and before asking while lighting a cigarette, “Miss Lage, what exactly do you plan to do while in Cali?”

“None of your business Mr. Herrera, my case does not pertain you or anyone else in this room, nor does it pertain to Escobar, or any other cartel that comes around here. Not my jurisdiction. Simpler terms: Not my circus, not my monkeys. Now, unless you have a legitimate concern, I am going to leave now,” Blix firmly stated as she stood up, and began to make her way to the front door.

“Also, do inform your daughter Gilberto, that as much as I enjoyed her company these past few weeks, I think it would be best, she never shows her face around my workplace. And if you’re men ever have a problem with me, maybe I don’t know. Ask me a fucking question. Not assume the worst in a person,” She called over shoulder as she made her way out of the house.

The man from before stepped into her path, blocking her. She looked at him with a grimace and politely asked him to move out of her way. He shook his head and told her she wasn’t going anywhere. She asked again for him to move, and he shook his head again.

Blix sighed heavily and then with a vicious smile, threw a punch out and hit him directly in the throat. He choked and grasped at his throat, falling to his knees. With a swift kick of her right leg, she directed it at his face, and knocked him further down.

As he groaned on the floor, she looked at the others, and threatened, “Anyone else wanna play winner?”

When no one else moved toward she continued her path, purposely stepping on the man that laid before her, without a care.

As she stepped outside, she walked directly to the gate that the guards refused to open for her. She glared at them, then cracked her neck as she put a foot through the gap first and slowly maneuvered her body through it, with her head turned to face one direction. This was one of the few times she was grateful for being on the skinnier side and with a bit of wiggle and some hair getting caught briefly, she was out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back inside, Pacho and Chepe were chuckling at what they just saw. Gilberto and Miguel looked unimpressed by their men, and their inability to stop one woman. Marta walked back into living room confused for a moment before sudden realization came onto her face.

“So, father, is she a threat?” She asked returning to her seat.

“No, I don’t think so. She may be good ally to have though. If we can convince her that we mean no harm, that is. Chepe I would ask you to take on this task, but we need you back in New York. Pacho. Do you feel comfortable with this?” Gilberto requested looking between the two men.

Pacho nodded his head as he took a drag of his cigarette. “Should be no problem, Gilberto. From the looks of it, she will be easy to sway,” He assured looking down at her file and as he lit his cigarette.

“Don’t be too sure of that Pacho. She may give you a run for your money,” Miguel warned taking a puff of his cigar.

As Chepe boasted about Pacho’s ability to woo any man or woman, Pacho contemplated Miguel’s words, and had a feeling that he may be correct.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stalked down the sidewalk going at least 2 blocks away before she called a taxi. The adrenaline was catching up and she was on the verge of panicking. She directed the cab driver to take her not to her house but to the airport. Her hands shook the entire time, as she paid the cabby for dropping her off 15 minutes later and as she purchased a ticket to Bogota.

She dug into her purse and flashed her FBI badge to security and was swiftly through security and on the last seat of the noon flight to Bogota. Her knee bounced the entire, and she gnawed on her lips as worried and panicked thoughts ran rampant in her head.

Two hours later, she landed in Bogota and swiftly made her way to the American Embassy, fury now built up within, replacing the fear. She made her way to the ambassador’s office; her secretary tried to stop her, but she did not care about niceties currently. She threw the doors open, and could see Javier Pena, Steve Murphy, and Horacio Carrillo, standing there speaking with the ambassador.

She pushed past them with no fuck’s given.

“Tell me something ambassador. Which one of the pricks of the CIA do I have to violently stab for leaking my dossier?” She asked her hands on her hip as she stood directly in front of her.

“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean, Agent Lage?” the ambassador asked with little confusion.

“Bullshit. Then tell me, how exactly does the Cali Cartel know about me? Seeing as how I was just in the lovely home of one Gilberto Orejuela and they appeared to know that my entire backstory, that I have worked for over TWO YEARS TO MAINTAIN was fake,” She angrily explained her voice raising often. “So, tell me, what deal did the CIA get on their knees for to fucking stab me in the back?”

Horacio came up to her and tried to pull her back away from the desk, lowly trying to calm her down.

She shook him off, before continuing since the ambassador had yet to answer her, “Listen, I know that every other department thinks that me and my team being here is a joke. That we are the least respected because we are a part of the art division. But when your decisions put not only my life in jeopardy, and not just the lives of my team, but threatens to ruin the case I have been working on for the past 2 years, someone had better give me a damn good explanation.”

The ambassador sighed, before she replied, “It was nothing personal against you.”

“Nothing personal eh?” Blix said disgusted, shaking her head.

She turned and stormed back out of her office, slamming the doors shut behind her.

Javier sighed and with a turn to the door, stated “I’ll go after her. Stop her from murdering someone.”

Javier made his way into the offices where he caught the ending of a confrontation between Blix and Stechner of the CIA, who she had punched him in the face.

Javier ran forward and grabbed her around the waist to pull her away from Stechner before she could do any more damage. She struggled against his hold yelling at him, “JAVIER LET ME GO!”

“ENOUGH! DON’T CAUSE MORE TROUBLE” Javier yelled back as he dragged her away.

He then threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the elevators. She sagged in his hold, furiously muttering and breathing heavy.

Javier didn’t put her down until they were in the parking garage and by his truck. He opened the door and sat her in, hooking the seat belt around her, and the door shut firmly.

He got into the driver’s seat and took off. He drove down the road a ways, stopping at a local café. He told her to stay there, before he stepped out of the truck and walked into the café.

Her anger was fading, and her hand throbbed from hitting Stechner in the face. She tried to take some deep breaths, but it felt like she couldn’t get enough air in. Her eyes were watering, and every sound seemed muffled, and her ears ringing. She barely noticed Javier’s return to the truck, nor did she notice when he unbuckled her seat belt. But she did notice his arms as they wrapped around her and pulled her into his chest.

The tears were falling freely now, and she buried her face into his chest and shuddered. She could vaguely hear him shushing her and whisper words meant to soothe her. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but soon, she felt the tears slowing and the world coming back into focus.

Blix gently pushed away, with a sniffle, rubbing the tears hurriedly off her face. She mumbled an apology, to which Javier gave a small laugh, and replied, “For what? Having a panic attack after spending the morning with the Cali Cartel? I’m an asshole sweetheart but I’m not going to get pissed at you for being legitimately afraid.”

She gave him a small smile in reply, and finally noticed the smell of coffee filtering the cabin. She looked at the dash, and saw 3 to go cups of coffee, and one cup of iced tea.

“Is that for me?” She softly asked pointing at the tea.

He nodded his head, and verified, “And yes. It is a sweet tea. Just like you like it.”

“Sweet tea, or tea that had sugar dumped at the bottom of the cup?” She questioned as she reached for it.

“There’s a difference?” He asked seriously before a smile broke out on his face, as a look of horror appeared on hers.

“As a Texan, you should know better than that,” Blix jokingly admonished as she pulled the cup to her and took a small drink.

“I also got you this, if you’re interested,” He teased as held a small box that had a cinnamon roll perfectly set in it.

“You’re going to make me fat, Javi,” She said with a pout.

“Oh, so you don’t want this then?” He asked pulling the box away. “I guess I’ll just throw it away then.”

She quickly leapt forward and grabbed ahold of the box and shouted, “No!”

She took it from him and held it protectively to her. He chuckled, and then gently asked “You feelin’ a bit better then?”

She nodded looking down at her lap. “C’mon. Let’s get back to office. I’ll help you check chatter to see if word has spread about you,” He offered, starting the truck back up.

“You would do that? For me? You hate listening to chatter?” Blix asked, eyes wide as she stared at him in shock.

“We’ve hit a dead-end with the Medellin cartel, again. So, may as well help you,” Javier responded nonchalantly, with a half shrug.

His attempt to play it off backfired as Blix leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“You’re a good man Javier Pena, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise, not even yourself,” she affirmed as she sat back in her seat, and buckled up.

Javier had a small smile on his face before he cleared his throat and moved the coffees to the middle seat before taking off. They made their way back to the embassy and began the long process of listening to chatter to see whether or not her case had been compromised.

As the day drifted into evening hours, and the office slowly emptied, Blix sighed and stretched to shake off the aches that had built up in her neck and back. Javier pulled off the headphones he had on and rubbed a hand over his face.

They were the only ones left at the office by this point. Steve left hours ago to go have dinner with Connie, and Horacio had to get back to base to train some rookies.

“C’mon. We are not going to hear much else tonight. You can come stay at my place,” Javier offered knowing that Blix did not have a place in Bogota because of how often she was in Cali.

“You sure I won’t cramp your style? I wouldn’t want to disrupt your favorite nightly routine of ‘interrogating the local nightlife,’” She teased slightly as she stood up.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always spend the night in the arms of a strange woman. C’mon now. Where else are you going to go? A hotel, with no change of clothes?” He asked throwing on his jacket.

She shrugged in response and grabbed her bag, followed him out to his truck. His place wasn’t too far from the embassy, just a quick 15-minute drive.

As they stepped into his apartment, he offered to order take-out for the both of them. She hummed in agreement, and they wound up ordering some pizza, one that was called the Carnivore, for its 5 meat toppings. 30 minutes later they were stuffing their faces, as they watched some crime drama, and pointed out the things that were wrong.

Between the 2 of them they had devoured the whole pizza, and Blix kept trying to stifle her yawns. Javier shook his head with a chuckle and got up and walked into his bedroom. He came back out with an old t-shirt and some shorts.

“Here, go change. I’ll take the couch,” he said as he shoved the clothes into her arms.

She nodded and headed into the bathroom to change. Minutes later she stepped out and called over to Javier, “Ya know, we are both adults, we can both share the bed. S’not like it’d be the first time we’ve slept together after all.”

She heard him take a sharp intake of breath before he got up from the couch. She walked with him into his bedroom, and crawled in on one side, and laid down on her back with a pleasant sigh of relief.

“If we are going to share this bed, Imma need you to not make those kinds of noises,” Javier pleaded as he got in on the other side, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

She giggled and murmured a quiet apology.

As they both laid there, Blix began to feel a sense of dread as she thought about the next few days.

“Is it stupid… that I’m terrified to go home? Granted today appears to show that nothing is wrong, but I… They know where I live. But I can’t exactly move because that would raise suspicions. I’m at a loss at what to do, Javi,” Blix confessed in a hushed voice.

“We’ll check chatter again tomorrow, and if nothing seems amiss, we’ll go from there. But if what you said earlier to me was true, than they’ve known where you been for the past 2 weeks and have done nothing.” He turned on his side to look at her as he spoke.

“I don’t want to give you a false sense of hope, but the Cali are not dumb. They are not going to attack an American federal agent. If I could, I would go and be your bodyguard for however long you need me, but I wouldn’t want to give your neighbors a heart attack and let them think you have a boyfriend finally,” Javier calmly soothed her worries and made her chuckle with his teasing.

He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her; she settled into his arms and turned to face him. “Ya know, if you got over your commitment phobia you would make a very good husband to someone,” she complimented with a yawn, her eyes drifting shut.

He hummed in response and as she fell asleep, whispered to her, “Maybe one day I will for you,” before he too, fell asleep.

#pacho x oc #slight javier x oc #narcos #pacho herrera

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theawesomeally · 3 years

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Before We Met (Preview)

Prologue

In a world inhabited by mythic creatures, love was commonplace several millennia ago, though difficult to master. After his training advances over the decades, his powers became obsolete and were largely discarded.

[The camera zooms in on the city and two blazing specks of light dash all over the place as one shoots lasers at the other. We then see an enemy aircraft flying throughout while it's chasing a young man, who is running from the pursuer. We see full closeups of a guy in his craft and Rocky as he runs. The scene freezes after an explosion with Rocky barely missing it.]

[voice over]

Through the years I have been known by many names. Marshmallow, The Furry Lover, The Daredevil, Frisky Two Times and then The amazing Ryan Reynolds. But to most, I am Rocky, the awesome one!

[Some other women, leaning across the wall, and Rocky getting his shades from his pocket. Put it onto his eyes. While he puts his hoodie onto his shoulders. Rocky was dressed like a gentleman, but he fought with honor or dignity and pulled at the knot into his tie. Females are not meant to grab his attention, and if it does. To be fair, he heard most of what he'd said up to this point. The parts that weren't of his interest, anyway.

Okay, maybe that wasn't much]

His sigh is heavy with exasperation,

"Can you keep your dick in your pants at the gala?"

Grab his phone from his pocket, automatically switching it out of Bluetooth mode, and bring his earphone up to his ear.

I will never forget you, Margarita. [The female stops and cringe after hearing the name. His blue prominent eyes were not well adapted to winking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber with majestic effect.

Rocky pretend to consider as Rocky step out of the car and button his tux jacket. "Hmm."

"Nice wheels, sir," the valet says, unconcerned that he was on the phone. Rocky pull out his wallet and flash a fifty-dollar bill. "Take care of her and this is yours."

"Yes, Mr. Rocky."

"I mean, Rosa. Uh...sorry. I think maybe I should go.???." She wrapped her arms over her chest and shook her head with a smirk curved across her face. Rocky grinned and raised an ironical finger in salute Rocky starts backing away. "You can't get away with it." the security guard muttered, holding out one hand. He was moving very slowly, thinking Rocky was the enemy or something. Blinks at her as a farewell, but glance with a smug as he sees the vampire's ring. Mind was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't notice the familiar vampire standing behind him. A vampire with bad breath psycho. "Hey, come on, dickie! You're trashing public property here!" He is thinking about how he had to sneaked up onto the roof and is currently standing a few feet behind him.

Rocky then gently slides the ring off the vampire's finger using his katana.

Light glinted off a myriad of his Katana and the vampire ring. Spray from the dust to blew up into his face, but sweat more than seawater moistened his palms as he gripped the eagle. His eyes were as blue while the vampires eyes were cold as the stormy weather.

"Hey, it's Gale calling," says Rocky called over his shoulder to one nefarious vampire. "Love the shiny suit. Really brings out the sex trafficker in your eyes." Rocky had commented, half jokingly and straight up confident, how that guy would have been considered handsome - if he ever bothered to smile.

Cut to a shot of a cliff.

A grim expression again carved itself into the soldier's face as he gazed up at the jeering vampires, their bodies smeared with blood, upon the cliff tops. Even the most cowardly of tribes in Gaul would fancy its chances from such advantageous ground, one being was mused. The sound of their jeers was occasionally accompanied by the high pitched swish of an arrow, as the odd archer tried his luck. Invariably the missile would zip harmlessly into the sea, or at best a thud could be heard as it struck as a human shield or the solid surface of the earth.

Cut back to the fighting scene. Rocky is skewering a guy with his swords, and kicks the vampire in the chest, sending him back down and puts his sword away. The guy gasp and starts fighting with Rocky. This continues for awhile until Rocky get's away again. Using two fingers he salute the vampire as a goodbye.

Making a soft chuckle. He flicks the vampire ring up into the air. It comes back down and lands into one of the streets, causing his background to explode. The shards of fire fell in slow motion behind him.

He is consumed in the explosion, as his body can be seen flying off the ground, flipping off the camera as it goes. "Oh, fuck." Rocky mutter under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry." A small apology leaving his lips with a smirk.

"That will teach you, not to mess with me," A familiar voiced ask, up righting his head as he walk over the circles and appeared in front of him,

(narrator)

So, I know what you're thinking. Why is that incredibly handsome guy being chased by a madman with a huge shiny fangs from the Civil War?

[The scene freezes after an explosion sending Rocky flying off the ground from the ground. After the dust settles, leaving Rocky lying unconscious on the ground.]

This guy's got the right idea. Well, to be honest, it feels like I've been the captain of my whole life. Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It's kind of what I do--You know what? Let's back up.

[We see the whole fight going in reverse as well as frames of future clips for a split second each time, one passes as Rocky mimics a rewind sound effect] Cut to close-up of Rocky gets up to his feet. Cut to him sitting on the side of the gable roof at night. Wondering how long it would be before he saw the city again. He had been born with a wandering heart, and he embraced adventure, unafraid to face the dangers often presented by journeys into unknown places. Leaving civilization behind for the wilds of the frozen north, legs dangling over the side as he listens to his Walkman next to him playing 'Shoop.' Rocky was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures along with the lyrics, but he was focused on his own drawing, while listening to the music and coloring a picture with crayons. We see that the picture he's drawing is him shooting the vampire in the head, he was doing it with some crayons he had with him.

It was fun to see that getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He'd never soon change it to a reality. And then turned his head and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever balls happened to be paying a lot of attention to him.

Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who's balls did I have to snap to get my very own story? I can't tell you, but it does rhyme with dick. And let me tell you; he's got a nice pair of fucking underwear, he finished in an Swedish accent.

They'd get that joke, right?

Anyway, I got places to be, a kiss in the ass to fix, and - oh! hot weird vampire to kill.

He watched eagerly as the flashes of light began to appear below him – lots of rippers were a very dramatic little shit, after all – we're panning quickly towards the edge of the roof he was sitting on. Now having an appointment to keep, Rocky was quick to get onto edge of the roof and, in one fluid motion, opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman, and the song "Where Evil Grows" by The Poppy Family stays playing in the background as he jumped off the roof, landing in one of the coolest bar in Mystic Falls. It seemed that they had been drinking peacefully, listening to 'Angel of the Morning,' but when Rocky landed and that's when their peaceful night was over.

They look around for which they finally see as Rocky stands at a wooden doorway wearing a cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and red a white hoodie as he opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman. Opens up and the door swings open and the music resumes with people dancing and lights flashing as he goes inside the bar.

Nothing.

Absolutely positively not a fucking thing.

First one person turned, noticing him. Then more followed, until the whole patron was hushed, waiting. Everyone was watching, the same bewildered look on all of their faces. Eyebrows raised and narrowed eyes, etc. God, for months he'd played this moment over and over inside his mind. It most definitely never turned out like this. Whatever this was.

As he walks up to the bar. The room was narrow and about 90 feet deep. Light did manage to worm its way into the establishment, though. It seeped through the windows scattered along the walls, and through the gaps in the door between its wooden panels. A bar on the left at the front, then some upholstered horseshoe benches, then a cluster of freestanding tables on what, on other nights, might have been a dance floor. Then the stage, with the band on it. The band looked as if it had been put together by accident after a misfiling incident at a talent agency. The bass player was a stout old black guy in a suit with a vest. He was plucking away at an upright bass fiddle. The drummer could have been his uncle. He was a big old guy sprawled comfortably behind a small, simple kit. The singer was also a harmonica player and was older than the bass player and younger than the drummer and bigger than either one.

The guitarist was completely different. He was young and white and small. Maybe 20, maybe 5-foot-6, maybe 130 pounds. He had a fancy blue guitar wired to a crisp new amplifier and together the instrument and the electronics made sharp sounds full of space and echoes. The amp must have been turned up to 11. The sound was incredibly loud. It was as if the air in the room was locked solid. It had no more capacity for volume. But the music was good. The three black guys were old pros, and the white kid knew all the notes, and when and how and in what order to play them. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black pants and white tennis shoes. He had a very serious expression on his face. He looked foreign. Maybe Russian.

I watched them for a minute, and then I looked away. My name is Rocky, and once I was the most wanted man, with heavy emphasis on the past tense. I have been out nearly as long as I was in. But old habits die hard. I had stepped into the bar the same way I always step anywhere, which is carefully. One-thirty in the morning. I had ridden the train to West and walked south on Sixth Avenue and made the left turn on San Francisco bar and checked the sidewalks. I wanted music, but not the kind that drives large numbers of patrons outside to smoke.

His attention was taken away from patrons. It was at that point that he saw the young beautiful woman alone at her table, Her name tag read Katy, and her shirt clung tightly around her chest. Her hands worked quickly and gracefully with the bottles as she poured them another and took the empty's away.

I watched her in the gaudy, reflected light, with the music shrieking and pounding all around me. The two guys watched her. Her bodyguard watched her. She watched the guitarist. He was concentrating hard, key changes and choruses, but from time to time he would lift his head and smile, mostly at the glory of being up on the stage, but twice directly at the girl. The first of those smiles was shy, and the second was a little wider.

What met my eyes was a beautiful girl with golden hair and a bright smile that melted my heart. She was blond and blue-eyed, American woman who have a glow, and a smoothness complexion. She lives in New York, singing, listening to a band, and I was in love with her angelic voice. That was clear. There I was, a guy further back in the room, stood in the room staring at her. I was 6ft tall, wide man with a white hoodie and a black leather jacket under a hoodie. She was part of the reason I was here with her back in a city when we were at the age of 19 or less.

It wasn't the kind of glossy place that had a policy about dating rich girls, either for or against. Some call it a gold digger, and I guessed they had looked at her and her minder and made a snap decision against trouble and in favor of tips.

The part of her gaze that wasn't wary was filled with adoration, and it was all aimed in his direction. She was rich. She was alone at a table near the stage and she had a pile of A.T.M fresh twenties in front of her and she was paying for each new bottle with one of them and she wasn't asking for change.

She was a waitress and I loved her.

The woman stood up. She butted the lip of her table with her thighs and shuffled out from behind it and headed for the counter in back. I got there first. The sound from the band howled through it. The ladies' room was halfway down. The men's room was all the way at the end. Rocky leaned on the wall and scanned the room. As Rocky watched her walk in and squeeze through the crowd and she sat down on the bar stool, 1 feet away from him.

"Hey, Raoul, look what this kid dragged in. Oh, wait! That is the guy!," but they didn't hear. Too much noise. He caught them by the elbows, one in each hand. They spun around, as if ready to fight, but then they stopped. Fortunately for him, the first two who approached her were quick to heed her dismissal. She wasn't there to mingle with huge ass in leather jackets. She was just there to grab a drink and relax and pretty sure she made that pretty clear when she shot the first couple of idiots down.

The third guy, however, wasn't ready to take no for an answer.

"How about you let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

Their sex appeal eyes pried upon their eyes from the television screen above the bar and looked at the newcomer. With his hair greased back and one-size-too-big biker jacket on, the guy looked like prime wife-beater material. Perfect. Just what they needed to interrupt his evening.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said curtly, gesturing to the beer bottle in front of her.

"That's it? You're gonna chug that shitty beer and call it a night? Come on, let me get you a real drink."

She scoffed. "What? Like those idiots you got over there?" she glanced past him at the table where he and a couple of his friends had been sitting.

"It's a warm-up. Trust me, honey, we're just getting started over there. You should join us."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Like I said, I'm good."

She made the move to turn away and focus her attention back on the football game on the television when the guy grabbed her by the arm.

"What the hell's your problem?" This guy gripped her arm tightly, this guy's face practically scrunched up in a beastly snarl. "I don't like to be ignored, y'know?"

She yanked her arm out of his grip and stood up to face him directly. She knew pretty damn well where the conversation was headed and sure as hell were not about to get in a bar fight with their ass glued to the seat.

Before she could open her mouth, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

By hearing it and raising their head to turn to his voice, her smile grew a tad wider, recognizing the voice immediately. They simply looked so annoyed, at least much more than usual. His lips pulled into a tight frown, while their eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, back hunched over slightly if you'd look hard enough. Yep, those guys are just being grumpy as usual, but seemingly much more grumpy, except with their eyes laced with the slightest bit of concern. For herself, most likely.

The said person stopped, and looked over their shoulder to the voice. She put on a mellow look close to her usual one. Confrontation- unnecessary confrontation- was not exactly his thing. He tended to avoid fights like these. He could hold his ground better than most, but he preferred to keep out of the brawls and spats that others got involved in.

A voice caught his ear, she sounded like she needed help, despite the overconfident tone the stranger used. "Look, I don't wanna interrupt, but is this guy bothering you?" he looks up at her and says greeted casually, as casual as someone could be hanging for dear life. She looked up at me, startled that he was there. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you up?" he softly asked, when she turned to get a good look at the stranger in his handsome voice. She wasn't expecting the sight she was met with. A pair of piercing blue eyes smiled over her, puffing out her cheeks childishly when she looked at him. After she looked to her right to find Rocky taking his place beside her. Her pinkish lips turned up in a small smile as she ducked her head briefly with a laugh before tucking her hair behind her ear, "No, you did not," she said. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. She turned her head to look at him, catching his gaze with her own. He gave a small smile, stroking her hair softly with his index. "So, What exactly are you doing here?" she said softly, trying to maintain an even tone of voice.

"Oh you know, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I thought I caught a whiff of filthy human garbage coming from this place," he said,

"And sure enough here I am."

Desire pools dark and deadly in his groin. Gaze up at her, releasing her lip. Katy flush a deep crimson in her cheeks, and he runs his index finger down her cheek before handing her the headphones. "I'd like to kiss you, too, but you won't let me down, are you?." Rocky asked her. Besides, he's pulled the straps so tight he can barely move.

Amused smile on his lips, he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. He glances down at her, light blue-gray eyes alive, he glances up when she looks at his way and their eyes lock. And in that brief moment, she was paralyzed, staring at the impossibly handsome man who gazes at her with some unfathomable emotion. His gaze hot, burning into her, as they lost for a moment staring at each other.

It's there in the air between them, that electricity. It's palpable. He can almost taste it, pulsing between them, drawing them together.

"Oh my," she gasps as she basks briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction. The two men stood back, saying nothing, but looking at him with hard eyes.

Katy had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her look insane. Coby, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Rocky's a drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Katy had completely fallen for Rocky. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Katy's entire body feel light as a feather.

To be continued....

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

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Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 6

Hello, and once again, I introduce you all, to a world of fantastic imagination! Welcome, to Midnight Striga!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

“Well that was a waste of time.” Amity grumbled, as she and the others broke away from their circles, disappointed at the lack of response.

“Aw, look at the bright side, Ams,” Skara said, slinging an arm over her friend’s shoulder, “At least we gave it a shot, and we’ve had a pretty great time overall, Conjuring or no!” Her peppiness was almost infectious. Scratch that, it was infectious, as a small grin fought its way onto Amity’s face.

“Please don’t call me Ams,” Amity sighed, choosing not to hide her smile. Skara just gave her a cheeky wink.

“But it suits you so well, Ams!” Skara laughed cheerfully, even as Amity gave a good-natured groan. “This is nice.” She said, a look of content on her face.

Amity nodded. “Yeah, it is.” She smiled, before a conflicted look crossed her face. She sighed. “Skara, I’m sorry.”

Skara cocked her head. “Hmm? About what?” She asked.

“That it took you getting hurt for me to start treating you like an actual friend, instead of someone my parents made me hang out with.” Amity confessed, even as the eyes of Skara and the others widened. “I let my issues with my parents define my relationship, and I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am for that. Can you forgive me?” She asked. She didn’t honestly expect to be forgiven, because what she did was nothing less than crappy.

She wasn’t expecting Skara to snort, and laugh in response. “Oh my Titan, is that why you’re always on edge around me?” She asked rhetorically. “Amity, there’s nothing to forgive. We all just got a little look at how… difficult your mom can be, and my family definitely has its own issues.” She explained, lightly pressing her hand against Amity’s shoulder. “While it may have been a lame thing to do, you owned up to it, and were there for me when I really needed you to be, and have done your best to be a real friend ever since. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a great friend.” She finished, pulling a surprised Amity into a hug, which she tightly returned, eyes misting.

“While learning that you didn’t want to be friends with us is a little painful,” Amelia added, drawing glances from Skara and Amity, “Skara’s got the right idea. You may not have been the best friend, but you did what none of us ever has,” She said, gesturing to herself, Cat, and a sheepish Bo and Selena. “You were there for her, and stood by her when she was hurting. You didn’t just walk by and ignore it. You even apologized when you were in the wrong!” She exclaimed, throwing up her arms.

“Yeah, wasn’t expecting to hear that.” Cat said, a sardonic grin on her face. Her face fell into it’s usual stern look. “We all just stood on the sidelines and let Boscha do whatever she wanted, and went along with even her worst ideas. You never did that, even when Boscha really wanted you to. You may have hung out with us, but looking back? It was pretty clear you were only there out of obligation, and you never went along with anything that had even a hint of getting you into trouble. Out of all of us, you were by and large the best.” She stated, a proud gleam in her eyes.

“You pulled Skara out of her funk, and got her to start living again. She was starting to backslide after the Covention, but then you did all this!” Bo exclaimed, gesturing to the party setup surrounding them. “I can never repay you for that.” She finished, bowing.

“I’ve always been a face in the crowd.” Selena stated, her face finally regaining some color after her prediction. “But you took a chance and let me come here. Because of that, I’ve met some really cool people, and had a lot of fun. And while I am now utterly terrified about my imminent future,” Everyone gave her an odd look at that,” for the first time, I can say that I’m living my life without regrets, and I’m going to keep doing that!” She gave a beaming grin.

“Ahem!”

The group turned, looking sheepish at the sight of Gus and Willow standing just a few feet away from them. Skara cleared her throat, blushing. “Um, sorry for ignoring you.”

Gus rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.” He sighed. “Look, Amity?” He began, causing the girl in question to go ramrod straight. “I don’t know you. Not really. I only know what I’ve seen, and some of what Willow’s been willing to tell me about you and her.” He gestured to the two of them, causing both girls to clench their fists in nervousness. “Still, you took a chance and let Willow come here and hang out with all of you. That’s never happened before. So, I’m gonna give you a chance, and while I’ll never forgive you if you mess it up, I don’t think I have to worry about that.” He finished, a half-smile on his face.

“Amity, you hurt me. Badly. In ways that any and all of Boscha’s taunts never could.” Willow said, Amity’s eyes turning to the ground at her words. “But I’ve never hated you over it.” That caused Amity to whip her head up so fast she almost felt her neck hurt. “I was sad, and lonely, and a lot of times I just wanted to scream and scream and never stop! But… I always remembered how, even after we stopped being friends, you never had a real smile. But lately, that’s changed. You’re enjoying life again. And I’m happy for you.” She finished, giving a tearful Amity an honest smile.

“I think we should go check on Luz and the others.” Skara said in a choked up voice, enthusiastic nods following her suggestion. As they walked over to the humans, they instantly took notice of the murderous look sported by Luz and the guards, and Neon’s tear-stained face. “Um, what happened?” Skara tentatively asked.

“Let’s just say that Neon’s dad is an even bigger piece of trash than I thought.” Luz bit out, cuddling Neon closer. She gave Neon a meaningful look. “Do you want me to tell them?”

Neon bit her lip, visibly conflicted, but nodded. “Yeah. If you trust them, it’s okay.”

Luz sighed, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed. Turning to the group, she gestured to Neon’s arms, exposing the heavy bruising covering them. “As you can tell by his handiwork, Mr. Nostrade had a nasty temper, and a liking for using Neon as a punching bag.” She growled, trying to resist the urge to bundle Neon up and scream at them all to leave.

The Witches felt sick. This man, whoever he was, had used his own daughter as an object to take his anger out on? Something to attack and scream at, and blame for whatever problem was plaguing him at the moment? As the sickening feeling built, so too did a surge of blistering hate. “You know,” Willow began, her voice far too casual, “I’ve always wondered how good a living body would serve as plant food.”

“That sounds pretty interesting, Willow,” Gus chimed in, his voice also way too casual, “I’ve honestly gotten invested in this one spell I found. It was apparently based on Grometheus, in that it mines a target’s memory for their deepest fears and most traumatic memories, and traps them in a labyrinth composed of those same memories and fears!”

“That’s fascinating!” Bo chipped in, a toothy grin stretching across her face. “It honestly makes me think of this one spell I read about that forces the body to heal wounds it doesn’t actually have! It’s supposed to be agonizing, ripping the flesh open as extra material and limbs forcibly claw their way out of your skin!” Cat nodded along with her words, a bloodthirsty smile on her face.

“Really? That’s super similar to this one spell I heard of that lets an Oracle summon a spirit directly into a person’s mind!” Selena added, an ominous gleam in her eyes. “It’s incredibly painful, and has a one-hundred percent rate of madness inducement.”

“Personally, I’m rather fond of the idea of using Bard Magic to extract a target’s blood through their pores, deliberately taking as little blood as possible for as long as possible. You know, to really draw the experience out!” Skara chirped, looking far too perky at the mental image.

“Mmm… I don’t know, I think I’d have to go with Willow’s plant food thing,” Amelia maliciously stated, glancing towards Amity. “What about you Ams?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Ams.” Amity said, before an absolutely remorseless grin crossed her face. “And secondly, I always wondered why my textbooks said not to use living beings as Abominations ingredients, and what better way to find out than to test it?” The Witches started cackling, tenting their fingers and rubbing their hands together in malevolent glee. Oh yeah, they would make that monster pay, big time.

“Uuuhhh… are you guys okay?” Luz asked, honestly a little weirded out at the turn the discussion had taken. The Witches blinked, surprised at her confusion, until Amity face-palmed.

“Luz, we’re talking about ways to kill Neon’s father.” Amity bluntly stated, a look of comprehension finally dawning on Luz’s face, along with Neon’s and her guards.

“Oooohhhhhhh!” Luz exclaimed, flushing in embarrassment. “I’m surprised you jumped to that so quickly, not that I disagree, really.” She stated, rubbing her head.

“It shouldn’t be that surprising. Children are precious, and one of the greatest duties a parent can have is to look after them, to care and guide them for their future.” Amity said passionately, a fierce light burning in her eyes. “Of course we aren’t going to stand for someone who treats his children as things to walk away from what he’s done. That is,” She glanced at Neon, who was watching them all with an unreadable expression, “if that’s alright with you?” She asked tentatively.

“Papa never said he loved me. Mama always did. Papa didn’t like it when Mama did that.” Neon stated hollowly, staring into the distance. “I always hoped Papa would tell me he loved me. But he didn’t. I’m never going back. If he has to d-die,” She choked briefly, before soldiering through it, “then I’ll be okay.” She finished, giving a look of gratitude to Luz.

Amity gave a considering look. “Neon, what happened to your mother?” She asked. She felt that she had an idea, but…

“Hmm,” Neon began, pressing her finger to her chin in thought. “Mama and Papa always fought a lot. Mama was always really mad that Papa kept me in my room. She used to yell about leaving. Then, one day, Mama screamed, and I ran out of my room and over to her. Papa said she fell down the stairs and hit her head really bad. I tried to kiss it better, but Papa told me not to, that it was stupid and I was stupid to try it. Mama went to sleep, and never woke up.” Neon finished, a look of sad acceptance on her face. The Witches and Humans all exchanged looks of understanding about what had REALLY happened; Neon’s father had killed his wife, either accidentally or on-purpose, made it look like an accident, and assumed total control over Neon’s life. And with that, they now had another reason to kill the bastard.

“Well then,” Amity stated, her flat tone doing nothing to hide the icy rage in her voice. “If that’s settled, I believe I have a solution for you and your guards’ residency issues.”

Neon and her guards instantly stilled. “W-what makes you think we don’t have a place to live?” Neon nervously laughed.

“I never said you didn’t have a place to live, but thank you for confirming that.” Amity’s reply instantly choked off Neon’s laugh, causing the girl to sigh in embarrassment.

Amity gave a light laugh. “Don’t worry about it too much, afterall, I have a plan.” She gave a daring grin, the type normally found on her mother’s face when she was about to take a high-payout risk. “Simply put, out of all of us here, I am the best equipped to host you and your guards, so it makes sense for you all to stay with me.” She stated, relishing the shock her offer elicited.

“You… you would do that for me?” Neon asked incredulously, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes.

Amity nodded, now solemn. “Of course. I am the best option, logically speaking, and...” her face screwed up in frustration, “I do owe you for my mother’s conduct earlier, and can use that conduct, as well as your skills and the strength of your guards as a counter-argument for whatever risks or concerns she may use as a reason to refuse.” A calculating gleam peaked into her eyes. “This situation honestly presents a perfect opportunity for loosening some of the… restrictions my mother has placed upon my life. That is, if you aren’t upset at the thought of my offer having such a selfish motive.” She finished tentatively, only to get an annoyed eyeroll from Neon.

“I may not have a lot of ‘weal rorld’ experience, but I’m not a dummy.” Neon stated, lightly thumping her knuckles against Amity’s forehead. “You are still doing something really nice for me when you don’t actually have to. That’s all I need to know.” She pouted, getting an flushed look of reluctant acceptance from Amity.

“Well, if that’s all settled, I think it’s safe for me to share a little tidbit with you all.” Luz said, the Witches puzzled at her mischievous look.

Alador braced his arm, tightening the internals of his project, one ear carefully tuned to his wife’s frantic rantings.

“And it could be the end of it all!! The Blight name, gone for good!! We have to prepare, we have to ensure the children have all the resources they will need to survive the fallout!” Odalia shouted, a frantic look in her eyes. Alador absentmindedly nodded along; he perfectly understood where Odalia was coming from, as the thought of even a fraction of the implications of that prediction coming true being more than enough of a reason to necessitate… drastic actions. Oh for sure, if their back-up plans ever came to light, they would instantly be branded traitors, and most likely be petrified, but that was a risk they would need to take.

“Calm yourself, Odalia.” He announced, feeling a hint of satisfaction peek through as his wife forced herself to center and focus. “While the implications are certainly worrisome, we have more than enough contingencies in place to ensure the Blight name will endure and thrive… no matter who stands at the top.” He stated, an ominous note entering his voice at the last words.

Odalia sighed, forcing herself into her chair. “You’re right dear. It’s just so frustrating! I can’t believe I allowed myself to act so unbecoming in front of the future generation!! What if they tell their parents!? That Porter boy’s father is a reporter, what if they tell the media!?” She ranted, a look of anxious horror on her face. She brought her face to her palms, groaning. “Ugh, and I just know Mittens is going to use this against me somehow, I just know it! Why must she be so ungrateful for the effort we’ve expended to see her succeed?”

“Uh, it may have something to do with you making her wear that stupid Oracle Necklace and choosing her friends for her? You know, just a suggestion. Also, Edric keeps singing off-key in here, and I am THIS close to throwing him out the window!!” Emira’s voice spoke up from the panic room, irritation and amusement coloring her voice.

“~Oh, Butter Town, Like Creamy Streets of Gold!! Oh how we Love you soooo~!!!”

Alador and Odalia blinked at their daughter’s words. “Hmm… you may have a point,” Odalia conceded, before focusing on something far more pressing, “But how would you throw your brother through a window, the Panic Room is a solid block!”

“I have my ways, Mother Dear!” Emira mockingly called back.

“It’s true, she once twisted this one dude from Glandus who wouldn’t take no for an answer so that his face was inserted into his butt! I was watching, and I still don’t know how she did it!” Edric threw in, his voice colored with amusement.

Alador blinked, scratching his chin. “Hmm… that could be an interesting feature for one of my inventions.” He muttered, instantly scribbling the idea down.

“Right!?” Odalia exclaimed, just as intrigued at the idea for one of their self-defense oriented products. She frowned, considering. “Still, I’m unsure just how Mittens intends to use my… earlier indiscretion against me.”

“She could attempt to use it as leverage to allow the Nostrade girl and her entourage to stay here.” Alador stated, calmly resuming his work on the project before him. His wife’s explanations of those… conditional spells were certainly intriguing, and if he could successfully implement it into his line? Oh, the possibilities…

“Yes, that is the most likely possibility.” Odalia conceded, tapping the table in thought. “I merely do not wish to close off alternatives.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Alador replied, lightly nodding as he resumed his work. “Still, whether she attempts it or not, we should move to offer Miss Nostrade shelter.”

Odalia smirked in understanding. “A girl with an incredible talent for prediction and a bevy of loyal guards? We would have to be fools to turn that away.” She chuckled, sipping her tea, only to grimace. It had gone cold.

“I am only understanding half of what you guys are saying, but I’m grudgingly willing to agree with you two!” Emira called out. “Having more bodies around to protect Mittens is never a bad thing!”

“Then it’s settled!” Odalia cheered, her earlier dread pushed aside for the moment. “Whether Mittens pushes for it or not, we will move to have Miss Nostrade and company stay here, under our protection.” Alador nodded in agreement, a faint smirk rising to his face.

“WWWWHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT!?!?!?!?!?!?”

The two paused, clapping their hands to their ears at the raging shout. Odalia blinked. “Hm, it seems the children learned something rather frustrating.”

“Really mom?” Emira asked through the door.

“Indeed, I am most familiar with such sounds, considering my own experience with making them in response to Edalyn’s childish pranks back in school.” Odalia grumbled.

“I still say you looked adorable in that butterfly costume.” Alador interjected.

“~Oh~! Tell us more!” Edric called, engaging in the conversation at the thought of parental humiliation on the part of the parents for once!

“Alador!” Odalia cried, face flushed.

Eda shouldered her way into the stand, grunting in annoyance. King skipped in after her, warily glancing around the environment. Marching up to the counter, Eda roughly hammered against the counter top with her fist. “Hey, I’m looking for a guy named Grimm Hammer for some potions! Whoever he is, he better get out here now!” She shouted, unconcerned with disturbing someone. If anyone had the guff to complain around a place like this, she’d just knock their head, or heads, off their shoulders.

“Oh, coming, coming!” A higher-than-expected voice called out. As she and King exchanged raised eyebrows, they stepped back, watching as a small, Pig-like demon climbed onto the counter, clad in a dapper little vest. He would’ve looked harmless and charming… were it not for the cold, calculating gleam in his eyes, and the naked greed that danced at the mere sight of Eda. “Oh, and what can I do for you fine individuals today?” His politeness was undercut by the almost menacing undertone, as if he’d been expecting them.

“You’re Grimm Hammer?” Eda questioned. He probably was, but getting confirmation was always best, and it would help her and King get their bearings.

“Yeah, you seem a bit different than what talk made you out to be.” King added. He was totally bluffing of course, they’d heard NOTHING about this guy beyond his name, but the more they could twist out of him, the better of a position they’d be in afterwards.

Neither missed the slight narrowing of the Piggy Creep’s eyes. “Indeed! I am Tibblet-Tibblie Grimm Hammer III, better known as Tibbles!” He explained, grin wide and welcoming, eyes cold and considering. “I must say, I never thought I’d see the day the Owl Lady herself found her way into my humble little shop!” Eda and King instantly smelled a rat; something about this wasn’t adding up, particularly in how he’d side-stepped their little bait to get him talking about himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice and all, but I’m in need of some potions, and word is you’ve got the kind I need.” Eda brusquely stated.

“Yeah, so fork ‘em over!” King chipped in, trying to make himself look bigger.

“Now, now! There’s no need for such aggressiveness!” Tibbles chuckled, ducking down to retrieve the potions in question. He popped up, a cheerful smile on his face. “And here we go! One stock of Curse-Suppression Potions!”

“Hey that’s great-! Wait a minute, how’d you know what kind of potions we needed?” King questioned, hackles raised.

Tibbles chuckled. “Considering your infamy, very few don’t know about your curse, so there are very few reasons you’d be in search of this elixir for any other reason.” He explained calmly, arching an eyebrow in mocking challenge. King growled, marching forward, only to be held back by Eda’s grip.

“That’s great, really it is. How much?” She asked bluntly, wanting to get as far from this creepshow as she could.

“A thousand snails.” Tibbles stated, an amused grin on his smug face.

“For this whole thing!?” Eda demanded incredulously, eyes panning over the box.

“No. A thousand EACH.” Tibbles grinned, relishing the look of rage building on Eda and King’s faces.

“You slimy little-!” King’s impending death threat was cut off by Eda, whose face was shifting into grave calculation, details clicking into place as she stared at the potions. Her hand whipped out, yanking one of the potions out of the box.

“Hey! You can’t just-!” Tibbles protested, only to reel back at the angered glare Eda sent his way.

“I thought this looked familiar.” She growled, eyes roving the container in her hands. “This is Mort’s work, I’d recognize it anywhere! You bought up his stock to resell at a price hike! That’s low, even by my standards.”

“Hmph! The fool should’ve been more concerned at someone placing such a large order when his most prominent customer is the known bearer of a rather vicious curse.” Tibbles spat, yanking the potion back from Eda. He gave her a glare, grinning maliciously. “I’m honestly surprised no one has attempted this with you before.” He said slyly.

“Most people aren’t stupid enough to provoke the most powerful Wild Witch of our time.” Eda said, honest to Titan murder coating her voice. Her eyes focused on Tibbles sleeve, fixating on an image peaking through. “Hey, what’s that on your wrist?” She asked calmly, a malicious bit of satisfaction slithering to the surface at his face going pale. Before he could scuttle backwards, her arm whipped out again, lifting the little menace off his feet. She roughly yanked back the fabric, staring in hate at the familiar symbol inked into his arm. “Oroboros.”

“Why yes!” Tibbles grinned, abandoning all pretense of civility. “And you should know, this is supposed to be a trap.”

Eda and King blinked, before rapidly turning pale. Before they could respond, a massive blow slammed into Eda’s side, sending her flying. A violent chuckle echoed through the air.

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