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ripplestitchskein · 1 month

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Sheltered (Stolas/Blitzø)

On AO3

Summary: The consequence of disregarding Hell’s law is steep and Stolas will pay the price.

Notes: A fun little canon divergence set after Stolas acquires the Asmodean Crystal. How we get here will be revealed. Unbeta’d but if you are interested hit me up. This was written well before we got the new trailer and duet so it’s completely just me playing around with the key theorized beats and my own imagination. Been years since I wrote anything for a fandom I published so may be a little rusty. I have another fic coming as well I’ve been working on that’s a little lighter.

Part One: Hellish Justice

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The Tribunal of Superior Spirits formed a crescent moon of looming silhouettes, each peering down at him with glowing acid eyes. A coterie of featureless jagged shadows. Their combined magics were heavy and physical, a slowly crushing force of power that filled the Hall of Justice, a miasma of eldritch power. Stolas knelt below them in the center of the dais, bathed in the bright red light of the condemned. He was not bound, but he did not need to be, there was no escape from the watching black figures above him. He had agreed to this after all.

“Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia you have violated the unholy covenant, bestowing the use of your cursed gift to a lesser demon, allowing them access to the human realm without consequence or regard for the laws of Hell.”

It was impossible to tell which of the Superior Spirits was speaking, but their voice rang through the hall, booming and terrifying. It trembled the stone beneath his knees. In the corner of his eye Stella and her brother looked viscously gleeful, eyes wild with vindictive pleasure. The simple joy of a scheme well executed. The others gathered in the seats of the auditorium looked more solemn, or merely interested in the spectacle. A Prince of Hell brought so low was not an everyday occurrence. It was small comfort that not everyone would bask in his demise.

Only Asmodeus looked troubled. He shifted and moved in his seat as if he wanted to step in, each of his faces frowning, one even openly weeping. Stolas silently willed him not to intervene. It would not benefit either of them. Even as a Sin he was not free from the reach of the Superior Spirits, those impartial arbiters of Hell’s Justice and it would possibly sully the deal Stolas had struck. That Asmodeus had not been brought into this mess was already fortunate. While he was free to grant use of his precious crystals to whoever he chose, it was still a gray area if that included the lowest beings of Hell. Stolas’s only comfort was that Blitzo and his employees were spared and the business unaffected, that his daughter did not have to watch him kneel and receive punishment, that as a Prince of Hell the responsibility fell to him alone and he could keep those he loved safe.

A fizz of magic and a wall of flame appeared, suspended above the room and visible to all. On it images rose from the flames, flickering back and forth in a loop. His possession of the Agent at the facility, the fearsomeness of his demonic form caught on human film. The flames flickered, now he was opening the portal for Blitzo and his team. They flickered again, curling and writhing, showing now Stolas and Blitzo’s shared moment of passion, their kiss blown up grand for all to see. The audience around him hissed and jeered, disgusted by such a display. Stolas’s talons curled against the floor, his jaw set.

“Such an abuse of cursed power cannot go unpunished,” The Superior Sprit went on. One of the figures waved a shadowy hand and the image sputtered out in a puff of blue flame. “We cannot allow such a transgression to be repeated. So let it be known to all the consequences of such flagrant disregard for the rule of law.”

Stolas swallowed. The magic in the room grew heavier. The crowd felt the sweep of intangible authority and fell silent, eager to hear the sentence. They leaned forward, pressed in on him from all sides. Stolas had never felt more alone.

“Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia we hereby strip you of your title. Prince no more your legions are forfeit to the realm.” Stolas’s eyes burned, the red stone of the floor growing blurry as his eyes filled. The audience gasped at such an unprecedented punishment. Though he had expected it, the reality burned.

“Your wealth and properties will be held in trust for the presumptive heir Princess Octavia of the Ars Goetia with Her Royal Highness Estella of the Ars Goetia acting as trustee until Princess Octavia reaches the age of majority.”

Behind him Stella made a soft noise of pure delight, victorious. Andrealphus laughed and if it would not have jeopardized everything, Stolas was quite sure he would have ripped out the peacock’s spindly throat. His talons scraped against the stone floor.

“Stolas, former Prince of the Ars Goetia you are henceforth banned from all properties and holdings of your former station,” Stolas’s head snapped up, a protest bubbling up in his throat.

“Wait,” he pleaded. If he could not return to his home, if he could not even visit, who knew when he would see Octavia again. “My daughter…please.”

The Superior Spirit ignored him. With a wave of a shadowed hand Stolas’s grimoire appeared, floating just above him, out of reach in undulating purple and blue light. It beckoned to him, the threads of their bond shimmering between his splayed form and the majestic glow of the prophetic tome.

“While we have no dominion over natural born magic, your cursed gifts are forfeit as well,” from the stone floor a set of ghostly golden shackles sprang forth. They clamped down hard around his wrists and ankles, binding him to the floor. He pulled against them reflexively but soon let them bring him down in drooping defeat, a wilted flower suffocated by golden roots. The grimoire bobbed for a moment, as if fighting the pull, and then with a flash of light disappeared into a deep violet box, edges filigreed in gold. A lovely coffin. The box snapped shut, the sharp sound echoing off the stone, and with a final thunderous click a golden lock sealed it away.

It was like being hollowed out, the connection between him and his grimoire, the magical gift he’d honed and sharped for so many years suddenly severed from his soul, yanked out by the heartstrings, leaving only a yawning void in its wake.

Stolas gasped and clutched his chest, the chains rattling in the silence of the hall like a death knell. His pained cry was lost to the high arched ceiling of the chamber and swallowed by the rising murmur of the audience.

The shackles glowed brilliant in the darkness and then disappeared from view. He could still feel them, heavy on his wrists, pulling him down. Stolas’s frame crumpled, palms smacking against the stone as he tried to keep from smashing his face into it. Nothing had ever hurt this much, had left him so cold. Even Striker’s dagger sinking into him, the heel of a boot digging into a fresh wound had nothing on the rending of Stolas’s magic from his very being. It was worse than having his heart broken, but only just, pity that both had happened in such quick succession as to make the comparison easy. Only dark emptiness was left now lit by the single flame of Octavia. Though who knew when he’d see her next. A tear fell, shone crimson in the red light from above. He smeared it away with his thumb.

The crowd was protesting, a fickle beast turning against such a harsh sentence. This was too much even for them. It was frightening to watch one of your own stripped to nothing before you. To know if you stepped out of line it could be you next, prostrate and small, powerless before the realm. The Superior brought down a ghostly gavel and barked for silence.

“We are not without mercy,” the Superior Spirit went on, a tad defensive. “Even Hell has a place for grace. You will be granted a small stipend from your holdings for use in establishing a new place for yourself in the ring of your choosing.”

He waved the shadowy hand again and a small envelope appeared at Stolas’s feet, the seal of the Superior Tribunal pressed on the fold in blood red wax. Stolas reached a weak hand forward and scrabbling, brought it to him. He tucked it with shaking hands into the inner pocket of his vest. The desperation of the act burned. He had dressed for battle though he knew well in advance of his defeat. Now he was clutching at any small mercy bestowed by the victors.

“Owing to your unique position and your view into the will of the stars the restriction on your magic will not hold for eternity. Your life of service has been noted and considered. We the Tribunal of Superior Spirits limit this ruling to a five year sentence, commiserate with your remaining free of any further violations of Hell’s unholy laws. After which you will be granted back your gift, permitted to resume your duties to Hell and aid in the training of your heir presumptive, though your title will remain lost to you.”

Stolas swallowed, his throat dry. He sagged in relief not caring that every aristocrat and Overlord in hell could see him being so weak, so vulnerable. It was rather the theme of the day. The loss of his magic was not forever. He would one day be whole again.

He wanted to sneer at their idea of mercy. Of course they would grant him his magic back only to benefit themselves, they needed him for the prophecies, at least until Octavia could step into the role. There was no one else in all the realms who could read the stars in such a way, who could warn of catastrophe and bring news of good fortune ready to be seized. They needed him, at least for now. It was a cold comfort but a comfort none the less. He could survive five years. For Octavia he would keep pushing forward. She would need him soon. He could only hope that they were not kept apart for long, that she would understand.

“This tribunal is dismissed. Justice has been done.”

One by one the Superior Spirits snuffed out like obsidian candle flames, and the red light faded leaving Stolas alone surrounded only by the hissing whispers of the crowd in the dark.

**********

A burly Hellhound appointed by the court led him through the winding hallways towards a back exit. The press had been clamoring for every tidbit they could eat up and, barred from the chamber, a crowd had gathered at the entrance. It was a small consideration by the tribunal but an appreciated one. He knew he looked awful, that the vultures would scent the carrion smell of failure and delight in ripping him apart. Stella had probably called most of them personally.

Asmodeus had tried to approach as the crowd dispersed from the Hall of Justice, but Stolas had waved him away. Any association with him could only hurt the Sin’s reputation, tainted as it already was by the display at Mammon’s contest. Further interaction would invite scrutiny no one could afford. He would rather face this alone than have it all be for nothing.

The Hellhound guard murmured something into a walkie talkie and grimaced.

“Got some news crews out back,” he warned. “Cars already waitin’ so if you’re quick they won’t catch much.”

“Thank you,” Stolas said quietly and braced himself as they stepped outside.

“Former Prince Stolas! Over here! Do you have any comment on the tribunal’s decision today?”

“No comment,” Stolas murmured, allowing the Hellhound to drag him towards a waiting vehicle. There were cameras and microphones in every direction. The sky was so bright after the dark of the hall that he squinted and held up a hand to block everything out. Panic flared in his chest.

“Stolas! Stolas! What are your next steps? What are your plans now that you are barred from the properties of any Ars Goetia?”

A good question. If only he knew.

“Is it true you used access to the human realm to traffic imp sex slaves?” That one almost made him turn but the Hellhound was efficient, barreling through the gathered press like a fanged bowling ball knocking down pins with a growl.

“Prince Stolas! What is your relationship to BlitzO Buckzo,” another yelled, and Stolas did flinch then, almost tripping over his feet. The Hellhound scooped him up and with a grunt fair flung him into the open door. It slammed behind him and the crowd became muffled and filmy through the glass. He melted back into the seat, exhausted.

“Hello sir,” the imp driver was one of the taller of his kind, though still much smaller than Stolas. Yellow eyes peered curiously at Stolas in the mirror. His smile was bright, impersonal, politeness. He seemed a cheerful sort of chap. “I’ll get us to the main road and then you can tell me where you’d like to go?”

Stolas had no idea. He could not return home, and it was unlikely Stella would be kind enough to send him his things. If he was very lucky she wouldn’t burn them on the lawn. He thought of his plants, of them withering away without him and his heart ached. Maybe Octavia would see to them. He pushed the thought of his daughter away. He couldn’t think of her right now, he would break. He needed to focus, he needed to make a plan. The impending breakdown needed to wait until he was secure behind private walls.

The chauffeur was slowly edging past the crowd, skillfully maneuvering the town car around the crush of reporters and paparazzi. They banged on the windows, pressed their cameras against the tinted glass, trying to catch even the smallest glimpse of his defeated face for the evening news cycle. It didn’t seem to phase the driver, though Stolas flinched back and away.

He reached into his vest and pulled out the envelope. The stipend inside was barely anything. He had given Octavia more for her pocket money. It was humbling to know this was all he had left. The clothes on his back, a measly pittance, and a phone that would work only until Stella realized she could turn it off. She had never bothered with the finances and the estate’s accountant seemed to like him, so hopefully that would buy him some time.

He pulled it out now, bringing up a search window. He needed to secure lodgings. Cheap ones. The more he could save on living expenses the longer that would buy him to figure out what to do. He’d need clothes as well. The royal regalia he wore was no longer appropriate and he cursed himself for not wearing something a bit more practical. But the idea of appearing before the entirety of the leering aristocracy and the imposing Court in anything less than his finest had rankled, and so he’d donned his battle armor for a fight long since lost, and now he would look ridiculous for a bit until he could find something else. His hands shook, that empty void in his chest still twinging painfully, his absent magic grating over his nerves, but he ignored it, trying to force his hands to be still.

He thought through the rest of the practicalities. He could get by if he just focused on the immediate. He’d need toiletries. Food. A job. He typed in a search for motels in all of the cities of the rings.

The Pride ring was probably the best bet, it was closest to Octavia and familiar. Envy was far too expensive. And wet. Greed was mostly factories and industrial properties and the few residences there were under mafia purview. He’d rather avoid further trouble if he could help it and a Goetia, even a disgraced and penniless one, was a valuable prize. Wrath was cheap and he found the people charming, but there was little for him to do there if he wanted to find work. Assuming he even could, with his limited skill set. And after his last visit he’d rather not go back any time soon.

Sloth was mostly medical facilities, and not much less expensive than Envy. And the opportunities in Lust were rather something he’d save as a last resort. He had no issue with sex work as a profession, but a fallen Prince turned prostitute was unlikely to keep him out of the news cycle and he’d rather spare Octavia further humiliation on that score. Though he supposed if it came to that he could use his former status to his advantage. Make a gimmick out of it. He chuckled to himself humorlessly at the thought. As if anyone would be interested, former Prince or no.

“Just let me know where we’re headed sir,” the driver said, breaking into his musings of royalty themed lingerie and if the ballet and ballroom dancing lessons of his childhood would translate well . They had cleared the crowd and were on the main road now, headed towards town.

“Oh. Yes. My apologies, I’m looking for options now,” he returned his attention to the phone and flicked through the results. There were quite a number of hotels and motels in Pride, due to the wealth of displaced sinners, even more in Lust but those were less long term and more hourly. He did some mental calculations and was dismayed to realize that even if he spent only the bare minimum on personal items and food he had only enough for a few weeks at even the cheapest of establishments. The panic he had pushed down was starting to creep up his throat again. There was also the problem that he was dressed to lead demonic legions not blend in with the populace. He would draw attention wherever he went and the press would surely find him, or he’d be robbed, or swindled, or whatever other horrible things happened to the naive fallen wealthy in his novels. An easy mark in more ways than one.

“Are you able to make a few stops?” Stolas asked. “I’d like to purchase some necessities. If it’s not too much trouble.” The imp hesitated but nodded.

“I need to have the car back by 5 but we can go as many places as you like, sir.”

Stolas, please call me Stolas. And you are?”

“Chauncey, sir, Stolas,” the imp corrected.

“Chauncey, lovely. Um, I need to find a clothing shop? I fear what I have on will not suit. Some place… inexpensive? Very inexpensive.”

He had taken Via to the mall many times, but had never paid attention to the prices or offerings for himself. He very much doubted anything on offer at Stylish Occult would draw less attention to himself. His own day to day wardrobe had always been tailored, suited to him personally. There was also the people to consider, the mall was always packed and the less demons he saw the better.

“Somewhere a bit discreet as well, if possible,” he added.

The imp looked at him in the mirror for a moment, and the look of sympathy was welcome but stinging. The void ached. Chauncey returned his attention to the road.

“There’s a Hellmart at the edge of Imp City but it’s usually pretty busy. Or we could try some thrift stores, they’re usually cheap but I don’t know that they’ll have your size sir,” the imp sounded apologetic. “We probably need to head to PC, the sinners have a bigger variety of sizes.”

“I defer to your good judgment Chauncey, we can try a few of these “Thrift Stores” and see if we can find something not too too dear that I can fit into. I think this could be quite an adventure!” Stolas forced a smile. He had to put a brave face in now. It wouldn’t do to fall to pieces. There was too much to be done.

*********

Chauncey was turning out to be a wonderful helpmate and companion. He had been right about the offerings at the thrift stores in Imp City, everything was far too small and Stolas encountered wide eyed looks wherever they went. Thankfully the stares seemed to be more about his size and current dress than any real recognition. At least, no one seemed inclined to film him or ask him any questions yet, though he had caught at least one demon discreetly snapping his picture. Most of the beings they encountered merely looked startled at his presence and shuffled quickly away. It was nerve wracking, and rather lonely, and he still felt sore and off balance, but he’d get used to all of that soon enough he figured. Hoped.

His first introduction to the concept of a thrift store, however, was delightful. It was not, as he had assumed, a chain of shops called “Thrift Stores” offering cheap clothing but charming disparate little shops dotted here and there and owned by various entities. Some of them took in donated items to be sold for charity, others sold things for others on something called “consignment”, others specialized in antiques and vintage clothes, Chauncey had explained. It was a fascinating system that Stolas tucked away for later. He could probably sell his regalia for a tidy sum once he’d procured some more appropriate options.

Each shop they visited was a sensory delight, shelves crammed full of odds and ends with no real sense of order other than broad categories: clothes, knickknacks, kitchen, children’s. Crystal decanters occupied the same shelf as plastic novelty cups, and there were so many cute imp figurines everywhere they went. Chauncey explained they were collectors items from a series called Hellish Memories, and featured huge eyed imp children in twee clothing doing various jobs. He was tempted to buy one that reminded him of Blitzø before he remembered that it would be the height of desperation to buy a figurine that reminded you of a former flame, and that he did not have the money to spare for trinkets, even adorable ones with little cowboy hats and tiny spurs.

His mood was dimmed further by the buzzing of his phone, Asmodeus with his little chicken emoji popping up on the screen. Swallowing his disappointment that it was not Octavia, or another he was trying not to think about, Stolas sent the call voicemail and turned the Hellphone off completely, he needed to save the battery anyway. He turned a bright smile to Chauncey.

“Where are we off to next, my good man?”

After their third strike out in an hour Chauncey suggested they head instead to Pentagram City, not only were there far more options for size but Stolas would have better luck finding cheap lodging and employment there. Especially this close to an Extermination. Property values in PC stayed pretty low, Chauncey went on, warming to the topic. When a percentage of your tenants just might not return, and arrived to the ring with next to nothing, you had to keep things affordable. Being a driver for the wealthy and powerful he overheard many helpful things, and the relative uselessness of Pentagram City for real estate development was an oft complained about topic, apparently. It stood to reason there would be regular job availability as well and no questions about identification as Sinners rarely had it.

Stolas had spent a lot of time in Pentagram City, for business with the various Overlords mostly, and while he was much more comfortable nearer to the familiar territory of I.M.P. he reluctantly agreed it made the most sense. It was easier to blend in among the Sinners, and it was only to the good that he distance himself from the business and the imp who ran it. His chest ached and he rubbed it absently as they entered the boundary for the city.

Chauncey’s excellent advice proved true the first shop they visited. He found several pairs of trousers that were more or less his size, several sets of shorts that were not but that he liked the look of his legs in anyway, and an assortment of tops ranging from mid quality business casual to soft cozy sweaters, and a stretched out crop top that said “Hot as Hell” he added in a fit of whimsy, all smelling faintly of moth balls and brimstone. It reminded him a bit of Valentino and he made a note to find out how to wash clothing as soon as possible.

He was overcome with joy at the total, the entire haul was less than high tea for one at Richest Cup. Chauncey had smiled indulgently as he tried everything on, looking only slightly uncomfortable when he modeled the shorts, and offered to take him to a grocers for the next round of purchases. It was rather like a shopping day with Via, always new and interesting things to peruse and look at. He wondered what his daughter would think of the crop top and then slammed the lid down on that musing. He would call her later.

Stolas had never shopped for food for himself before, things just sort of appeared in the kitchen and if he wanted something particular he could order in for it from the BeeEats app.

The grocers was no less fascinating than the thrift shop had been. Each aisle had a rainbow of different products, some geared towards specific species or tastes, and he delighted over a section that was for avian demons specifically.

It was difficult not to fill the charming little basket with all sorts of treats and indulgences: chocolate dipped voles, squirrel bites, honey glazed chipmunk cheeks. More than once he had returned an item based on Chauncey’s wince over the price tag until he had a basket full of reasonably priced and mostly nutritious food that would keep well no matter where he ended up.

He also found a nice smelling preening oil that was an eighth the cost of his usual brand, and some inexpensive calcium grinding stones to keep his beak in order. He added to the pile a charger for his phone and a bright purple duffel bag for storage of all his purchases. The retail therapy was doing wonders for his mood, each little purchase lighting him up and making him feel a bit more prepared and capable. His phone felt like a hot coal in his pocket, and he itched to check it, but doing so would invite reality back in and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Only about half an hour left sir,” Chauncey said apologetically, “traffic is going to be Heavenish at this time of day and I have to get the car back.”

“I quite understand. Thank you for everything today Chauncey, dear,” Stolas shifted his bags to take his hand in his own. “You have helped me immeasurably. I am only sad I can’t return the favor. Or even offer a generous tip,” Stolas blushed. He had never not tipped a day in his life and it was humbling to admit he could not now. Every cent was precious in this new life.

“I could perhaps buy us a meal? To show my gratitude?” Chauncey shook his head.

“All part of the service Mr. Stolas,” he smiled up at him and Stolas’s mood dimmed a little further. Service. He needed to remember that. Sometimes people were kind because they had to be, and he ought not read any further into it than that. It was a bad habit he knew he needed to overcome. He had so enjoyed their time together however, and he owed Chauncey a great deal but that was not friendship. It may be something he was learning late in life, and rather harshly, but he was learning.

“Well,” he said, locking that thought far away, “When I am back on my feet I do hope you’ll indulge me in treating you.” The imp blushed again and nodded, opening the door to the car for him.

Their final stop for the day was a boarding house Stolas would more or less be calling home for the time being. It was a derelict building in one of the points of the Pentagram, right at the edge of one of the border districts that was split between Overlords. It was close enough to the city proper that he had options for employment but not so close he’d have to deal with any of his former business associates or worry about too much Extermination Day ruckus.

It was a hodgepodge of a structure, and seemed to sag straight down the middle from damp as if a great beast had sat on it at one point in its long and storied life. Here and there were signs of haphazard repairs, wooden boards salvaged from other less fortunate constructions, tinfoil and cardboard placeholders in some of the window panes, large pieces of rusting tin nailed to the roof over rotting shingles. Stolas shuddered at the thought of sleeping in such a place, though he had no doubt there was a wealth of vermin he could use to supplement his grocery expenditures within the walls.

The sign on the front said only “Rooms to Rent, Ask Moira” with no other name for the establishment. It was more discreet than one of the motels, Chauncey had mentioned, and required no identification, merely cash up front and regular weekly payments. A former client of his had used the place and had no trouble.

Stolas thanked the man again for all his help, pressing his card into his hands and wincing only slightly at the title it still bore in the gold embossed letters of a, if not happier, than certainly a more well to do, time.

“Call me any time you’d like to get that meal,” Stolas said. “You have been an absolute treasure.”

The imp had blushed again, pocketed the card, bowed and driven away with an awkward little wave, leaving Stolas clutching his purple duffel bag and staring apprehensively at the ghoulish building before him.

He sucked in a deep breath and went up the creaking, wobbly steps, inside to find Moira

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#helluva boss fanfiction #Stolitz #stolitz fanfic #Stolitz fanfiction #helluva boss #sheltered fanfic #Steffie’s HB fanfic

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mychampagne-mybubbles · 1 year

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A brief on Harry's public behavior that day

2022 Venice film festival

An answer to this respectful tweet

I am a Larrie, no need to say I love them both but I am also a professional, particularly mkt & branding is my area, I have read & learned a LOT about the industry thanks to them, probably like most of us here have, I am also a grown-up, I know how many unexplainable things from the 1D days have been inherited into our days trying to make sense of current situations & because, particularly, H has been involved in so many complex situations I’ve tried to be objective about it, looking for a better understanding despite I don’t like some. It's fine because I am still here. On the other hand, this showed me the raw reality of what the industry demands to be “successful“ in it and how real issues like pressure, money, power & a large number of people relying on just one man, puts an inappropriate responsibility on him.

First, I’d like to say that there is the larries pov but there is also the “world” or the GP too, I can try to justify whatever by looking at it through the larrie glasses but the truth is he came there for the first time and he acted as he did. I love him and that’s why I don’t want others to point at this behavior as disrespectful or poor when he is having an opportunity (that many actors don’t, for instance) of a lifetime. So, it’s not a matter of what a larrie state of mind “should be” or that st*pid octopus’ morals are, it is a matter of caring about a guy whose reputation is already damaged and dragged by the choices he took, the media, his team, the industry, the stunt… far away from who I think he is.

At this time, we were at one of the worst peaks of the stunt he & his so-called “gf” had just put out there the most controversial articles, we had pap pics almost every day, wrong quotes, etc... They got there and H ignored her under a “professional veil” to quit that attitude once they got into the theatre, to go back to spread kisses once again in NY streets later…and the only chance he got to show a bit of who he really is, how despite everything he was going through he is who we know he is… he puts into display this (alow me to name it) game. Don’t forget Harry has been in the industry for more than 10 years, he knows it's folds perfectly. I am telling you, this wasn’t read into considering his stunting state at the moment or his feeling towards despicable OW, I am a Larrie & I was concerned.

When I mentioned controversies, I didn’t imply his level of freedom, but the obvious DWD promo: based on spreading garbage all over. So it would have been nice if, for once, his circle or his moves weren't related to this kind of approach seeking headlines. However, to the general question: is H capable of choosing? Yes (minding ofc the doubt before the extension and consequences of them). Does this imply easiness, comfort, being happy with what the industry demands of this man or not having to deal with complex contracts (including his & the boys 1D’s)??? No. Don’t take me wrong, I am not saying his position is any lighter than it is or it looks like, there is too much involved and is disgusting.

I get how some see this specific moment as a rebellion and give them comfort, I understand it because I was thought like that too & the loop to see through is a bit complex & doesn’t get any better, as you can tell. It helped me a lot to give it a business pov, separate it from my feelings for them or from who I think they truly are, to understand the extent of the circus they (& us consequently) deal with.

I am not looking for an answer breaking down every step under the stunt, because I know too, believe me; but take this ( if you wish) as a wider scope on how things are seen. There is a larger audience (and intention), I chose my side, but that doesn’t erase the others and I mind how he is perceived. Precisely, being a larrie let us see clearly the incoherencies of the artist out there and walking that line is risky for him first. I wish his lame team could make a better, creative and mature strategy to protect him & give us a much healthier experience.

#cbask #harry styles #the artist vs the person #marketing #the industry #venice #2022

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hospitalterrorizer · 7 months

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diary54

11/4-5/2023

saturday - sunday

the anime con was fun/cute.

we got to see this fashion show thing they did there today, which was cute, some nice looking stuff, especially the things minori had, these really pretty and kind of extreme headdresses. extreme as in excessive, huge, a couple were reminiscent of like, margiela's doll clothes, where they're really oversized and strangely proportioned. we were there from like, 12 pm to 6:30-ish i guess. the dealer's hall was crazy, i saw this guy there who really disgusts me though, last year we went to two cons, and at the second, i went into the bathroom, and i let him in, we made eye contact, i was in the stall beside his, and i saw his shadow like, jerking, and the sound of skin on skin slapping. i guess he got really horny or something at that other con cuz they for some reason had an excess of hentai everywhere, i don't think that one is ever happening again, it was called shinecon, really awful honestly, i hated that. he's this furry with a yt channel, he sat by us during the cosplay contest panel, and this guy kept making barking noises, just as like, a thing he did cuz he was hyped, and the furry was like, mad, so he started barking back louder and with crazy eyes, and then turned his phone over to the guy as he barked at him, which put me in the middle of the camera, basically, i think. i'm at least in frame. i think i look very unhappy. after that we walked around, looked at some more stuff, my gf saw this guy she used to know who apparently talked all kinds of shit about her but he acted all nice to us today, weird stuff. oh the intermission for the cosplay contest was fun, this woman who was also a cosplay judge came out and rapped, and she had this song that was like, way sexual, and i saw the faces of some of the children in the audience, and they were like, whoa, i guess, really funny to me. we also saw neo-japonism live, they were really fun, good energy, the songs were like, fine, i also didn't know how to move myself for that kind of music/audience experience, i don't get it sort of, with music i would really just like to move my body with the music/interpret that way, but idol stuff is sort of like you are very explicitly trying to feed the performance and kind of amp it up by moving along with it, like a big feedback loop, which i like, but i dunno, it's a big feedback loop but not a chaotic feedback loop, which is how i like to think of stuff. dance music, for instance, asks you to interpret it and move along, even doing things like voguing is a process of reusing signs intuitively, performative yeah (all dancing that isn't seizure-esque basically is) but moving within confines of the social to reach at something else is interesting, mobilizing oneself towards the excessive/getting into a rhythm enough to shed the expected and shock yourself/let yourself be shocked by the music, hear things that aren't fully there, nested rhythms, absorbing the posture of the mix, that kind of thing. anyways, this isn't to say the idol stuff is worse, i just don't understand how to do it or be involved at the level i saw people in there were. it was crazy having these idols look at me, make eye contact, not in a momentary way where like, a guitarist looks at you for a second, but sustained eye contact, smiling and gesturing, asking something of you, and i guess for me feeling like they gave up a bit because i wasn't entirely sure what to do beyond move this little fan i got around, back and forth or up and down.

but all this going out lately is really having negative effects on me, the trips to colorado, arizona, these larger gatherings with lots of people, it all really wigs me out, i've been getting worse hypochondria attacks and any time i'm itchy or my skin is irritated i am totally convinced i am catching fleas or bedbugs or something, and that i am contaminated and that i am going to take it home. i think my skin got irritated by something in my socks, leading to two rash-like things, but now even talking about it now, i am literally experiencing full body itching, and it was not here even 30 seconds ago. literally, sudden onset tingling on my body, like insects are crawling on me, i'm becoming really really unhappy because of this, i feel really bad but i don't enjoy all this right now, the socializing is getting to be too much i think and the added stress of all the nights i have had in arizona of little sleep i am still experiencing some kind of instability i dunno. i don't think i'm developing agoraphobia really but i am liking being outside less and less, and feel like being among a lot of people i am unsafe and that i'm going to bring something into my apartment that i don't want to.

anyway i did write some new lyrics for another song, hopefully i can get to this song on monday along w/ the new parts for the old one.

i wish i could stop being worried about having lice fleas or ticks or bedbugs or anything, literally i am so preoccupied rn my hair falls through my shirt's neck hole and touches my skin and i think it's something crawling on me, ughhhhhhhhh.

so obviously i need to sleep soon if not now so:

byebye!!!!!!!

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early20sfailingplenty · 3 years

Note

May I request some Bo content? With a female S/O who is usually very chipper and warm suddenly having a very bad day and shutting down and lashing out? Like the S/O is usually all over town helping out with chores and bringing the boys meals while they work, but something throws them through a loop and they end up not doing any if the things they usually do and Bo doesn’t notice at first?

Hi, Bobbie!!🥺🌸 hhhh you absolutely can have some Bo content, oml??? I can’t get enough of the Sinclairs hhhhhh🥺🙏 This was really fun to write and I had a lot of fun with the concept! Thank you for requesting; it went in a slightly different direction than what you asked for but I hope you enjoy it anyway!!💗

Also, I worked on this piece pretty solidly for an entire day and it got to the point where I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, so a massive thank you to @arianatheangelworld for reading this over for me to tell me if I got the characterisation of Bo right, and to check for plot inconsistencies. With her approval and keen eye, this piece is finally ready to be shared with a wider audience hasdfghjkl this is one of my favourite pieces as a conflict-averse person (you can thank trauma for that lmfao); it was fun to write!💜

TW; SWEARING, reader’s a bit of an asshole (you’re not responsible for your feelings but you are responsible for how you deal with them and reader is not very mature in this piece - we all have those days, and that’s okay so long as you apologise after and learn from it!) & picks a fight with Bo, Bo gives as good as he gets, Bo’s a bit manipulative, ARGUING BETWEEN BO AND READER (a wrench is thrown but NOT AT THE READER), CRYING (reader), Bo stepping up when he realises what’s happening (FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF because I’m soft for the Sinclairs and I’m not sorry), ELEMENTS OF AN UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP (it’s Bo, duh), there are MENTIONS OF FOOD (not sure if this one needs to be on a trigger list, but I’m putting it on here just in case), one sentence about a dead person being in Hell from a religious/monotheistic perspective (it doesn’t bother me any because I'm a firm atheist, but I realised that it could negatively affect someone else so for that reason I'm putting it on the list), implications of Stockholm Syndrome BUT THAT WASN'T MY INTENTION WHILE WRITING IT!!! It's just an afterthought to put it on here before I post it in case it upsets someone.

My trigger lists are always so long omg I'm sorry I just never want to upset anyone so I probably go overboard??? Would appreciate feedback on this!!!💖

As always, GN!reader, no coded language (to the best of my knowledge; please correct me if you see something I haven’t noticed!), “you” and Y/N used.

Word count: 4,101 (another short one😩)

BO STOP BEING SO PRETTY OMGGGG🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍

It was just one of those days in which nothing was going right and everything that could be going wrong was, and everything was pissing you off. Ambrose and every fucking thing in it was out to get you, it seemed, and just as you usually did when you were having a bad day, you shut off from everyone and just barely restrained yourself from lashing out at anyone who even breathed in the same area as you. You just kept yourself to yourself, not doing anything the way you usually did. You knew that no one would ever let you not maintain your duties and responsibilities, such as they were. Only once had you not followed through on them, and you had discovered quite quickly that Vincent wasn't above using scare tactics, such as looming over you in such a way that you knew you had no choice but to comply if you wanted him to step out of your personal space.

It was a subtle reminder that you would either end up back in Bo’s disgusting chair, or dumped at Vincent’s stairs if you got too comfortable in their town. That had been in the very early days of your initially forced residency in the ghost town of Ambrose (but, oh, how alive was she on the surface until one dared to scratch at the polished and carefully cultivated veneer). Months had passed since then, and scare tactics from the brothers were no longer used. You could be trusted to do the things you usually did, and indeed did you usually enjoy them. You adored helping the brothers, you loved doing things for them, knowing all the while that they cherished you just as much and, in their own ways, they did things for you as well.

Bo had been, of course, the hardest brother to form a connection with. He was brash, rude, abrupt, an absolute asshole and you loved him for that, among a great deal of other things. As your relationship had gone from captor and the captive to a tepid friendship and then further had the two of you warmed up to each other into the intense romantic bond which you now greatly enjoyed, Bo had stopped being quite so rude. Indeed, his displays of love and affection were quiet but copious, as if he was trying to make up for how he had treated you before he had even known your name. Once you had learned to read Bo’s love language (one of which was asking you to spend time with him in the garage; he loved having you around, though he didn’t tell you in as many words), you came to understand that he was as much of an asshole as he was full of love. Aching was he to both give and to receive love in kind; starved of it and of a gentle touch for thirty some years.

Once Vincent had seen you and Bo interact, he, too, had made more of a concerted effort to take care of you and to do things for you. He had sculpted you and Bo, once, and gifted it to you by leaving it on your bedside table. There had been no note, no signature or anything to denote that it came from Vincent, but you knew all the same. You knew every detail of his particular form of craftsmanship. You had thanked him profusely, both in words and by making him his favourite meal the next day for dinner, prepared just as he liked it. Lester had been the easiest to form a friendship with, and indeed was he the one you went to when things with Bo were too much for you, or when you itched to see different sights but you didn’t want to leave Ambrose. On those days did you go with him to work, wanting to spend time with him. It always gave you a sick thrill to leave Ambrose, but you would always choose again and again and again to return. Where else could you go, would you go, when home contained the one you loved the very most?

Ambrose was your home, Bo was your home, and you loved doing your part to help run the town, to help Vincent with his supplies and wax stock, to help Lester with his job, to maintain your own hobbies because you existed as your own person and you were not wholly defined by anyone else. You had thrown yourself into the life Bo had set out for you (and, oh, how you had fought him on it, until one day you had caught yourself excited to face the next day), and you cherished every moment you got to spend with any of the brothers, but especially with Bo. You were warm towards all three of them, and they were equally so with you. It was the way of things, and you didn’t want it, you didn’t want them, any other way. But today, oh... something bad had happened, it had thrown you for such a loop that you could no longer tell what way was up and what way was down, and you were steaming; pissed off, irritated, and emotionally shutting off. The chores would be done, but you wouldn’t be focusing on them. Food would be made, but it would be a heartless chore with little thought beyond making sure you didn’t poison anyone and that it tasted good. Your hobbies would be left unattended in favour of helping Bo in the garage, in favour of helping Vincent with anything he needed, in favour of riding with Lester for a bit to keep him company. You sighed, pissed off that you didn’t have a choice. You just wanted to hole up in your bedroom and lay there, left to rot as you stared up at the ceiling. But you couldn’t. There were things to do, people to see, and a life to live despite the fact that you were not having a good time of it.

The world could fucking burn for all you cared today.

To begin with, Bo didn’t notice that anything was amiss. How could he, when he was elbows deep in the hood of his truck, swearing under his breath about who knew what? You had done very little of what was on your to-do list for the day; you had made meals for everyone including yourself and made the relevant ‘deliveries’; taking Vincent’s down to him first because he was the closest (he hadn’t let you go until you had promised him that you had your own food, too; his form of affection towards you was a tough kind of love which you knew he used on Bo as well, which was partly why you adored it so much), then Lester’s, and then you had taken yours and Bo’s down to the garage so that you could have a lunch date together. You had packed a clean towel with soap and a flask of hot water because you knew Bo wasn’t going to wash his hands. It never failed to turn your stomach when he ate with dirty hands, grease stains left behind on the bread he had yet to eat. His constitution was one of iron and you almost envied how strong his immune system must have been after a lifetime of exposure to various things which would make the average person sick. Almost. The only other thing you had really done this day was to clean up the kitchen after you had made the food and delivered Vincent’s and Lester’s. Everything else hadn’t even been thought about. You wanted, more than anything, to not do a damned thing.

It was only when you made more noise than was strictly necessary when delivering his lunch that Bo straightened up, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. His baseball cap physically shielded his eyes from you but you could sense his gaze and your mind’s eye supplied the look you knew you would be seeing if he wasn’t wearing his hat. “Lunch.” Your tone was flat, and Bo’s entire stance changed. He stiffened, and you began to see the side of Bo you only saw when there were tourists in town. Quickly were you walking on thin fucking ice, and, help you, but it thrilled you as much as it made you want to run away. But, you were looking for a fight... if you carried on this way, you would get one, too. One of the things you loved about Bo was that he always gave as good as he got and then some, no matter what it was.

He fixed you with a level gaze and then, “Wanna try that in a different tone, darlin’?” A warning - your first and your only. Bo would never give you an out twice in a row. With Bo, once was more than enough. He always took things and ran with ‘em... his cruel, brutal upbringing and later life had taught him to never question anything, to just take them as they came from one moment to the next. Bo craved that which he had lacked in his life before you, and security was one of them. Seeing you like this had thrown Bo off edge, just as something had clearly done the same to you, and Bo didn’t know what to do when you were like this. Vincent was good at calming people down after a lifetime of living with Bo, but Vincent was presumably holed up in the basement, so asking his twin to do some de-escalation was out of the question. A warning, first, had been suitable... He would have to follow your lead on the rest of it. What could Bo do to help you the way you always helped him? He had to figure it out, quickly, because his sunshine was behind some clouds and he didn’t know how to make it rain, so that the sun would come back out. Wait... As quickly as Bo had lost his footing, he found it again, a predator was he. You wanted a fight? He’d give you one. And then he would bring you back home to him. It was sly, manipulative of him, but an outlet was what you needed, and Bo was great at that. He threw tantrums every fuckin’ day. You were entitled to one too, he figured, especially if something bad had happened. But what?

“No,” You shrugged, settling down to get your own food. “Eat if you want. I brought some hot water, soap and a clean towel for you to wash your hands.” The inflection in your voice on this last three words brought a sneer to Bo’s face but he turned away from you, recognising all the signs in you that he saw in himself every damn day. You were angry and Bo wondered what the fuck had happened to you. He hadn’t seen you much this day, so busy had he been, but now that you were with him, it was clear that something was up. He hadn’t seen you like this often, usually so happy and warm with him that it made his heart ache were you, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. If you wanted a fuckin’ fight, though, he’d give you one. Anythin’ for his darlin’, even when they were being rude. Idly, Bo wondered if this was how you felt when he was being an ass, but he shook that thought off. It didn’t fuckin’ matter, anyway. He had already tried pushing you away, but you had stuck to him like glue. Bo loved it as much as he hated it, which created such a passion within him that it left the both of you breathless even during the best of days together.

“Okay,” Bo shrugged you off, acting like he wasn’t getting as pissed off as he was also growing concerned, “I’ll eat wit’ ya’ in a minute. Let me clean myself first. I’m too dirty to have lunch wit’ ya, is that it?“ He grabbed the flask, soap and towel from the counter where you had set them next to his lunch, and the look he gave you told you everything on his mind. When he came back from washing his hands, leaving everything on the sink for you to clean up later, he made his way back to his truck, “Hey, uh, pass me that wrench, would’ya?” and got busy again, fiddling with... whatever he was doing. He looked up at you around the hood, watching you. Analysing you. He was getting mighty pissed off with you, but he was trying to hold his temper down. He knew he had a nasty one... it was turning out that you did, as well. We’re a match made in Hell, momma. Maybe we’ll see you down there some day. I know you ain’t gone up.

You rolled your eyes before you could stop yourself, which made Bo’s jaw tick in irritation. You did as he asked, again, almost slapping the tool into the outstretched palm of his hand before you went back to what you were doing. God, but today you really hated the way you did what he asked of you, even and especially when you didn’t want to. You just loved him so much and it came through in everything. Christ, you were even pissing yourself off. You waited for the thank you that you knew wasn’t going to come - Bo had always said such things with his actions, but today it just fucked you off even more instead of making you smile - so you sarcastically said, “Thanks, Y/N. You’re welcome.” The first two words were spoken in a lower octave, mocking Bo’s own voice. Your poor imitation made you smirk as you found it funny in some sick way, but for all of his careful planning, Bo exploded as his temper flared up in an instant; the wrench hitting the wall farthest from you as he launched the tool. It made a thunderous noise, so much so that you almost wanted to put your hands over your ears. A part of you enjoyed the audible chaos. You wanted more, even as you recognised that Bo, in his rage, would still never hurt you. It calmed you down as much as it pissed you off.

“What is the matter wit’ you?” Bo yelled, finally losing his already short patience with you and this entire fucking ridiculous situation. You were usually so warm and happy, the only real fucking light in Ambrose. Anger was a secondary emotion which usually disguised pain and or fear, and Bo was feeling the latter. Did you want to leave Ambrose, leave him? So when faced with an uncomfortable emotion, Bo, too, lashed out, and you realised even in the haze of irritation and sadness that if this carried on, you and Bo were going to devolve into a screaming match. Good. That was what you wanted. Wasn’t much else to do around Ambrose.

“Fuck if I know. I don’t want to do any of this shit.” You threw the to do list at Bo, as if to make a point that it was too much of a demand on you this day, but even with your sharp aim did the paper only flutter pathetically to the floor. If this had been any other situation, you would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. You were fighting off laughter as it was - a panic response. You’d finally managed to piss Bo off, and in a sick way, that had been what you had wanted. Bo gave as good as he got, and it never failed to send a cold chill of anticipation up your back. You loved riling him up; it was the hottest fucking thing and the most dangerous, but it was too late now.

“So this bullshit attitude of yours is all because ya’ don’t wanna pull ya’ weight ‘round here, that it? S’not like ya’ fuckin’ do that anyway.” Bo’s tone was biting, his baby blues like ice, his tongue cutting into you like a blade. You thought you would have preferred an actual knife... it would have hurt you much less than the venom radiating off of Bo.

You scoffed, “Fuck off, Bo! You know as well as I do that I always do things around the town, helping you out and making sure everyone eats and every fucking other thing. I pull my own weight just fine. That’s not even the fucking issue here, I just - “ You felt stinging behind your eyes and nose, and your hands flew to your face, hiding yourself from Bo and distancing yourself from the situation. You wanted to leave, to let yourself and Bo simmer in the tense situation you had created just by letting yourself lash out (and, oh, how you knew better than that), but more than that, oh, more than that, you wanted to stay. You wanted Bo to see you in your rage and in your upset, and you wanted him to help you. Fuck knew if you knew how to help you. You were beyond yourself and you needed Bo. You needed him. It was this realisation which brought your hands away from your face, catching a look of fondness,slight amusement (he did love a good fight, especially when he was in the thick of it) and concern on Bo’s face which vanished as quickly as you had seen it. It was something he hadn’t meant for you to see. It was almost funny in its own way, how much the two of you danced around each other, even in a committed relationship. All the fight left you in a single moment as you had finally, finally burned yourself out. You didn’t have any more energy to give to your emotions this day. You sighed, and the sound was so weighted in all that was unsaid that it only upset you more, and tears fell hot and fast down your face as you broke right in front of Bo. The one you loved the very most.

"I'm sorry, I - " Your voice was barely audible even with the great acoustics which the garage afforded. You dropped to your knees, everything you were feeling from what had happened to cause this in the first place as well as your lack of sleep from the night before was just too much to take. Your body couldn't hold you up anymore and you sunk to the floor, sobbing without a care for the way you had deliberately wound Bo up just to vent your emotions, for the way you had neglected your duties this day, for the way you had just broken in front of the man who loved you, it was true, but he was not the best one when it came to handling emotions. You cried, your tears hot, fast, heavy as they crashed around you. Oh, but it hurt and as a part of you enjoyed it - the sweet release of emotions - a part of you was only more upset and it created a cycle from which you could not escape by yourself. When you hit the very bottom, the only way to go was up, but what if there was more underneath? Even in your rapidly worsening state, you were wise enough to know that you couldn't handle yourself anymore.

You. Needed. Bo.

He had always been able to do for you things which no one else could.

"I'm sorry, I just - "

Boots slowly, carefully, came into your view, and Bo ducked down so that he could look at you fully. He balanced on the balls of his feet, his cap dangling lightly from a finger on his right hand as he watched you. His blue eyes had melted from the ice you had just seen into a warm pool of blue which only made you cry harder. You watched his eyes widen in surprise, worry, and then Bo cleared his throat, "Ya' gotta breathe, darlin'. Take a deep breath now, you're all right. Ain't gonna' hurt'cha." His left hand reached out for your shoulder but then he hesitated, as if he didn't know if you wanted to be touched or not. He wasn't wary of you but of the situation. Either way, it broke your heart to realise that you had done this. Whatever this was.

"Bo, please." More tears slipped down your cheeks as Bo's hand continued to hover in the air between you, but something in your voice made Bo snap. Somehow, somehow, he managed to grab you and pull you into his lap, sitting with his legs outstretched in front of him with you plopped right in the middle. His arms and legs alike locked around you, the safest cage you had ever been in, and he rocked you back and forth slowly.

"Shush, darlin', you're all right. Bo's got'cha. You're all right." Bo pressed kisses all over the side of your face, his lips trembling and his shoulder shaking with worry, concern, adrenaline, rage. He continued to whisper sweet nothings and feather kisses all over the side of your face which he could reach, doing everything he could to soothe you. He knew not what the matter was, he knew not what had happened to you, but he recognised all the signs of a break in you - he felt them in himself every single day - and he didn't want for you to go through it alone.

At some point, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself into Bo, wanting to sink into him. Today could just get fucked. You had Bo now, and he was all you wanted. "I'm sorry, Bo. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Bo listened in a solemn silence to your repetitive apologies. He recognised that perhaps you were going to relapse into tears again, and he didn't want to have to deal with that. Not because he didn't love you, because he did, but because you had only just begun to calm down and he didn't want to tip you over the edge again. Especially if you were the one throwing yourself over. "Hey, hey. No more tears, darlin'. No more. Y're all right." Arms tightened around you, lips pursed against the curve of your cheek. "Now, you wanna tell me sumthin'?"

The literal floodgates had opened, and so too did the verbal ones as you told Bo everything. Everything that had happened to upset you so, everything you had been feeling, everything you had been thinking... You told Bo everything. His trembling grew as did his rage, but he took slow, measured breaths, doing his best to hold his temper in place as he listened to you. If it killed him, Bo would solve your problems. If it was something to actively work on, he would support you. If it was a person, he would enlist his brothers' help to lure them to Ambrose so he could kill 'em and chuck 'em in the roadkill pit; they didn't deserve to be immortalised because they had done this to you. His brothers would both agree. Whatever it was, Bo would do whatever it took to help you, consequences be damned.

"Shit, darlin'," Bo sounded breathless when you were finished, and you burrowed into him, wanting to disappear from the world and into Bo. He would protect you, keep you safe and secure. It was all you wanted. "I wondered why ya' started actin' all crazy like that. Figured you wanted a fight for the helluv'it, but - " Bo shook his head. He'd never been good at words. That was more Vincent's forte, which was ironic given how he was mute.

"I'm sorry, I - "

Bo's arms flexed around you and he shook his head again, one hand moving so that he could cup one of your cheeks. "No more o'that, Y/N. It's done, forgotten. Don't matter no more. I ain't mad. I was," Bo chuckled wryly, "I was pissed as all hell, but I can't be knowin' what I know now." His other hand came up so that the calloused pads of his thumbs could wipe all of your tears away, and he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead to signify that he was there, that he loved you, that you would be okay.

Bo would make sure of it.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair comfort #house of wax #house of wax imagine #house of wax x reader #slashers #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher community

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a-marlene-s · 4 years

Text

Commission: Actions and Consequences

Tags: (I’m going to do a reblog tomorrow with the tags.)

@miner249er commissioned me to write this fic.

If you like my work, please considering supporting me! https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s

Warning: SALT SALT SALT SALT. CLASS SALT! LILA SALT! ADRIEN SALT!

Oh, and there’s a bit of Lukanette in this~

----

You know what they say…

All actions have consequences.

Every choice has a consequence.

Be responsible and be…

You get the idea.

This has been on the mind of everyone in the school of Dupont for who knows how long. Oh wait, that really hit home when one Lila Rossi came to Paris and started her lies. It looks like the only ones that were clearly fooled by her lies is the Akuma Class. Including their own teacher!

Well… except for Marinette.

She is the only one that is not fooled into believing such things. Who in the right mind would believe any of that? Akuma class, that is whom. People began to pull away from them. One by one, not wanting to be connected to them. Not so much for the fact they are known as the Akuma class… it is for the lack of regard they have for Marinette.

How dare they treat Marientte in such a way! After what she has done for them! For all of them! They believe the words of that liar over a friend they have known far longer. Some have tried to reach out, but Rossi is always near or just sucks them back into her webs of lies. Whatever work they have to get their friends back to a world of reality, it is reversed back the moment they step back into that classroom filled with webs.

Many have tried and tried again to help them. To help them see the light of what has been going on, but they all refused to see the light. Many of them growing toxic to themselves that it is better to cut ties then to deal with them anymore.

Who could blame them?

They tried. Truly tried.

Did they want to lose their friends?

No. They did not. But for their own health and sanity… they cut their losses and moved on. At least, they are reassured, that the only ones in Rossi’s grasp is the Akuma class sans Marientte Dupain-Cheng. For which, they made a promise to get protect her from them. She does not deserve the mistreatment. No one does.

-.-

It started out small.

Too busy to hang out.

Leaving messages on read.

Avoiding having them around.

Cutting conversations short.

Many other things to get away.

Some others… are more up front with their dislike with Lila Rossi.

They do not bother to hide their disgust.

Some kept quiet to a degree…

Mireille gave Lila a worried smile as she started to tear up about Aurore’s mistreatment towards the latter. She simply patted Lila’s cheek, leaning close so that she could wrap her arms around Lila to give her a comforting hug… before whispering into her ear as everyone watched on. “Play along… after all… this is just a game for you. You don’t want to disappoint your audience.”

It wasn’t much of an issue to play along with Lila’s games when she tried to bring in the Akuma Class as backup. Long as you show sympathy, play along with Lila’s games against her… you should be good. Lila will never break in character in front of them. Long as you don’t call her out in front of them and act just as deluded to make her mess up, it’s all good.

Then there are the times one has to be more up front…

“Achoo! Ugh, sorry, allergies you see.” Aurore sneered out as she ‘accidentally’ stabbed her umbrella into Lila’s hair when she sneezed. “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

Lila’s jaw dropped as she tried to pull her hair but only wincing as her hair really got caught in the umbrella. She looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. But… no one is paying any mind. If anything, one of them even went as far to offer Aurore an allergy pill. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to anyone!”

“Oh, shut up. We all know you’ve been mistreating Marinette since day one.” Aurore teased, there was a glint in her eyes as she easily untangled her umbrella out of Lila’s hair. “All of us were willing to stand back because Marinette asked us to. Then you got her expelled… Let’s make some truths…”

-.-

Slowly but surely, things began to change for Bustier’s Class. Or better known as, the Akuma Class began to see a change. Then again, things have been happening and have been so caught up in Lila’s lies to even take note of any of it at first.

Many have already put a distance between them and themselves.

It’s silly really. None of them really had taken note of the fact here is now a wall between them. Slowly growing as time goes by. It really came ahead when news spread around on Marinette’s expulsion and her return back to school without much of a say on what happened.

Except for the fact Lila claims Marinette had stolen an answer sheet, her necklace and pushed said girl down a staircase.

Why no one bothered to look deeper into those lies, is beyond anyone at this point. What really got to the rest of the school is how the Akuma Class, Bustier and Damocles’ are so far up Lila’s ass that they wonder if they could even see the sun at this point. It was at that point, the gloves were off and no more.

It was time to bring out the big guns when word got out that Lila supposedly has a lying disorder… only to Bustier and Damocles. Only them, no one else. Thus, only causing more tension for Marinette with the rest of her classmates as they still believe the original lies. All of them giving her a side eye, wondering what she should do next.

Marinette doing something against Lila?

Hah.

It’s going to be the entirety of Dupont against Lila now.

Dupont vs the Akuma Class, sans Marinette. They love their sleep deprived cinnamon roll that could possibly kill them once she finds out what they are up to.

It would be so worth it though…

-.-

“I’m sorry Rose, I’m going to be busy that weekend. Busy, busy at the studio!” Mireille smiled sweetly at Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Alya and Lila. “Nadja is prepping me to do live interviews over the weekend. I’ve been told I might interview a rock star! Isn’t that great!”

“Wow! That’s amazing, Mireille!” Rosa said in awe. The others following along, amazed by the news. They were gushing over the fact Mireille is possibly going to interview a pop star soon. Going on and on… Mireille simply smile, keeping her arms behind her back and her knuckles turning white as she kept a tight grip on the back of her blouse. She kept an eye on Lila, her smile only growing as Lila tried to steer the conversation back to herself.

Mireille did not care; this would be the perfect opportunity for her to walk away.

Expect when she saw Marinette walk down the hallway with Aurore.

“Hey Marinette, did you hear? Lila knows who Mireille is going to interview.” Alya mentioned, grinning at Lila’s direction. “

Marinette paused, nose scrunching up. She looked over at Mireille to see her eyes narrowing at the direction of Lila. Clearly, this is one of the many lies Lila has up her sleeves. Aurore smiled at Lila, almost warningly. “Yeah, she told us last week.”

Marinette looked around her classmates to smile at Mireille. “Nadja finally got in contact with them?”

“Thanks to you, Marinette. Nadja got in contact with all of them.” Mireille smiled widely at Marientte and Aurore. “We can’t thank you enough for that favor! Come on! I know the perfect tea shop!”

Mireille walked over to Marinette and looped an arm around one of Marinette’s own. Her smile only grew as Aurore looped her own arm around Marinette’s free arm. The two girls quickly pulled Marinette away from Lila’s sights all the while talking about the interview and the tea shop.

“Did… did they just ditch us?” Alya pulled a face as she watched Aurore, Marinette and Mireille walk away. Mireille had earlier mentioned she was going to be busy after classes which is why they asked her if she was going to be free this weekend. Apparently, she’s supposedly busy with other things than to thang out with them. Why?

“Hey, girls… is everything alright, Alya?”

Alya and the rest of the girls turned around to see Nino and Adrien walking up to them. Her smile grew when she saw Lila warp an arm around Adrien’s own. What she didn’t see is how stiff his smile became but continued on.

Adrien looked ahead to see Marinette with a Mireille and Aurore. The three chatting away without a care in the world. His brows furrowed at the sight. As of late, this has been becoming the norm…

-.-

“Mom said we could hire a DJ for the event, but…”

“Davis already have the day filled?”

“Yeah. Along with Diego, Mei and Lola.”

“What about Nino? He DJ’s, too right?”

“Hah! Dad, don’t joke! Like I want him to DJ the party! Marinette is going to be there and if I have him there, he’s going to wonder why no one else in his class was invited. I am not going to invite a bunch of people that have been mistreating my friend.” Claude grimaced at the thought. He was not going to have Nino DJ his party. If things were different, things would have been different. It is his party. His. He is not going to run the risk of Lila Rossi and her flying monkeys coming to his party and making it all about her.

Yeah… that is not happening.

Lila will find a way turn the party so that it’s geared towards her. She did that at Izzy’s 15 birthday bash and it took Izzy weeks to console her after she regretfully invited Rose, who in turn invited Lila after she overheard the blonde telling Juleka about it. Rose never asked or apologized to Izzy about inviting Lila, who in turn invited her flying monkeys.

Yeah… Claude was not going to let that happen. To make sure that does not happen no one from the Akuma Class, except for Marinette, is invited to his party.

“That’s a bit harsh. I’m sure there’s more to the story. You and Nino were good friends for some time now.” Claude’s father said, worry filled his tone.

“And I thought Nino was close friends with Marinette far longer but apparently that does not matter to him.” Claude deadpan. “I am not going to have Nino DJ the party. Plus his girlfriend is Lila’s main supporter. If I do have Nino DJ, he’ll tell Alya who will tell Lila and I am back to square one. The one I want to avoid! I don’t want Lila Rossi at my party!”

“I’m sure she’s just trying to make friends…”

“…that’s what you said about Clarice before mom divorced you.”

-.-

Adrien paused mid-bite, straining his ears to overhear what is being said on the booth several seats away. He overhead Claude saying Nino and Lila’s names several times but never a clear sentence. It took a while before it caught on what is being said.

Izzy’s party was amazing to say the least! He went along as the rest of his classmates invited him along and he finally got permission to go by his father. The party was amazing to say the least! The music! The food! Everything else!

Why wouldn’t Claude want to ask Nino to DJ his party? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to invite everyone. It would be horrible to note everyone. Wasn’t Claude friends with everyone in his class?

Right?

Sitting across of Adrien is Nino, concentrating on a calendar that he brought out along. Nino has been… struggling to get gigs for a while now. It was not so much he could not get someone to hire him, from what Nino has been telling Adrien, it’s actually doing his job. As of late, he hasn’t been asked to DJ for anyone else outside of his class. Sure, there are some here and there, but at times… he needed to cancel because Alya wanted to do something with Lila and wanted him there for it.

-.-

Luka resisted the urge to pull out his ears as the rest of Kitty Section, sans Adrien and Marientte, whisper to other. All the while sending him weird looks throughout. This is the first time they have met up for practice in well over a month since they keep bailing on practice. Why? They prefer to hang out with Alya… who is hanging out with this Lila Rossi. All. The. Time.

They all have been talking about Lila Rossi… nonstop. Going on and on about her. To the point, Luka suspects that Rose wrote a song about her for some damned reason. Why are they talking about her?

Lila Rossi knows Jagged Stone.

How Lila Rossi’s dance move got stolen from Clara Nightingale.

How close she is to Prince Ali.

Lila knows a lot of people that could, supposedly, get them famous. How Lila has connections to help Kitty Section become famous. Knows someone that would make them better costumes. Along with even knowing how to write better music.

Lila this…

Lila could do this.

Luka stood up from his spot from the makeshift stage with his guitar in hand. There tunes are different, no longer in tune to the music, let alone to their hearts. More so when he is supposedly out of ear shot and they started to whisper about how Lila mentioned that he, the founder of Kitty Section, should no longer be in the band. How Lila told them how he is hold them back and that she knows someone that is better than himself.

Him holding them back.

Really?

Rossi is the one that is holding them back.

If they want to repeat that broken tune, so be it. He needs to find his muse. Luka left them to whisper to themselves. If Lila believes that they do not need him, so be it. Leaving without much of a fight, he knew when it was a time to retreat until they got their bearings. Right now, he now needs to find out more about Lila Ros-

“Psst! Over here!”

“Hey! You! Luka!”

Luka paused, an eyebrow raised as he slowly turned around to see two individuals, some of his sister’s friends from a different class, are calling out to him. They were both holding umbrellas, which only made them stand out more in his opinion. “Hello?”

“Come here!” The blonde motioned for him to walk over to them.

“Hurry before they see you!” The other said, pointing down the hall. Luka looked down said hall to see Adrien and some unknown girl that is clinging onto his arm. Oh.

Luka hurried over to the girls and they promptly hid him under their umbrellas and behind the pillar with them. It was close enough to listen into whatever Adrien and the new girl’s conversation.

-.-

Adrien stood by as Kitty Section walked out to meet him and Lila, and they started to talk about Lila’s advice. What’s this advice? That it would better for Luka to leave Kitty Section as it would be too weird for him to be in the band with them. It is concerning to say the least. Are the really going to kick out Luka from the band?

“It is better this way. Luka is only holding all of you back.” Lila smiled at her classmates as she tightened her grasp around Adrien’s arm. “All of you are better off without him. I’ve talked to that producer friend of mine and Jagged Stone, and they both agree. Luka is no good for your image.”

“I suppose you are right…” Juleka said, twiddling around with her gloves. Rose reached over to hold onto her hands and gave her an encouraging smile. Juleka chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over.

“I am positive that Luka will understand.” Lila smiled once more and this seemed to put Juleka in a better place.

“We have been practicing without him for the last month.” Rose mentioned, tugging onto Juleka’s hands. “We could do it.”

Lila smiled brightly, increasing her hold around Adrien. She looked at the blonde for support. “Right, Adrien?”

-.-

Who does she think she is???

They have been practicing without him. For the past month? Without him? Well, that’s one thing he could easily take with a grain of salt. What his sister is saying has his song beating a new beat that hasn’t been played for so long. What really got Luka’s attention is the fact they were all eating up Lila’s lies.

Are they really that gullible?

“This is just the bare minimum of what Rossi has been doing to your sister’s class.” Aurore explained, motioning for Luka to follow her and Mireille.

Luka’s brows furrowed over the blonde’s words. “…Is something being down about it?”

“More or less, but that’s for later. Right now, we are planning a party later for Marinette and we need you to distract her for a bit.” Aurore said, nudging Luka with her elbow and gave him a sly grin. “The party is for her. Did she tell you about her class situation?”

“Marinette has mentioned she wanted to tell me something but everytime she tried to say it, one of her classmates popped up and she would go quiet…” Luka trailed off as he took that in. Oh, that would explain some things. Shaking his head, he would ask her later about it. “I’ll talk to her later about it. Tell me more about this Lila…? I don’t like her song.”

-.-

Mendeleiev was never one that cared so much to know about the personal lives of her students. In terms that, she does not care who is dating (long as it is a healthy and very much legal relationship), knowing what her students are doing after classes (long as it is nothing illegal or against the rules), and well… whatever she had just witnessed from down the hall.

Ondine just broke up with Kim.

Which is a big surprise considering how googly eyed they are… were for each other. A big shock, that’s for sure. However… considering what has been going on, it’s no surprise to anyone. Well…

To Bustier’s class that is. Those poor, poor, souls do not know what is coming to them. It was just a matter of time and patience before someone loses said patience. There is only so much someone could stand idly by or do their best to help others, before washing their hands of them. Look at herself? Mendeleiev did so to Bustier due to the fact the younger woman refuses to listen to reason.

Mendeleiev shook her head as she headed to her room. She needed to create some paperwork in hopes that will push some people to see things her way.

-.-

Adrien gulped when he heard the news that Ondine broke up with Kim. That came out from nowhere! Completely out of nowhere. Why did she break up with them? They were so happy together it does not make any sense.

A lot of things have not been making sense for a while now. Many of those things were small at first, but Adrien could no longer shake off that creeping feeling there is more t-

“Adrien… a word?”

-.-

Marinette stared down at her phone, her shoulders shaking as she read the text messages her fri… her classmates are sending her. Varies of texts that has her wondering what the heck is going on to her class, are they finally seeing the rest of the school just does not tolerate Lila?

“Block them, Mari.” Luka murmured into her ear while he played with her loose hair. He and Marinette were in her latter’s room on the sofa, with the bluenette snuggled up to Luka. He reached for the phone and took it from Marinette, ignoring the pout that was sent his way. Placing the phone in his pocket for safe keeping, Luka wrapped his arms around Marinette and reached down to give her a peck on her neck.

“I suppose I could forget about them for now…” Marinette giggled at Luka’s actions, she smiled when she felt Luka grin against her neck. She raised an eyebrow at Luka, despite the fact he could not see it. “Are you hiding something from me, Luka?”

“You could say that… Aurore and Mireille asked me to distract you as they set up a surprise.” Luka mumbled into her neck, his grin ever present. “How am I in distracting you?”

Marinette’s jaw drop when she felt Luka started to press kisses up and down her neck, her mind went blank just long enough to return the favor. This was so much better than dealing with her classmates demanding answers to something they should have known since day one.

-.-

“Ugh, again with Lila crap?”

“I know, right? Why does Alya keep posting those so-called interviews she has for Rossi?”

“I don’t know, but have you seen ClaudetteOneEye’s reaction and debunking of it? Hah! Her best yet!”

“She already did a reaction to it! I need to watch it!”

“We still have time before class, watch it now!”

Alya really wanted to storm out of the stall and yell at the individuals that were clearing mocking Lila, who in turn mocking her. What is there to debunk? There is nothing to debunk! Lila has been most telling about her history with Ladybug. They are best friends for Pete’s sake! Alya took out her phone and started her search to show those gir-

“You know how Alya always goes on and on about how she’s a reporter and always checks her facts…”

Snort.

“Hah. Her checking facts? Has she ever checked on any of the crap Lila has been spewing? Any of it?”

“I know, right? Plus, has she ever asked Ladybug about it before posting any of their interviews?”

“Like the little good reporter that she is? Unlikely. No wonder Ladybug has been ignoring her.”

Has… has she ever asked Ladybug about Lila? Alya ran a hand through her hair as she tried to think of an answer to her question. Of course, there were times when she has recently tried to get an interview, but Ladybug just… started to avoid her.

-.-

“Saving Jagged Stone’s cat? If they looked it up, they would have checked that him and his fiancé are allergic to animal fur.”

“Doesn’t he have a pet crocodile?”

“Yeah. He does.”

“That’s just as pathetic as her knowing Prince Ali and being friends with him.”

“Uggghhhh. That doesn’t even make sense, she’s been here in Paris for months before she started coming to Dupont.”

“That’s what I thought! Among the other bull she’s spewed out, the ones that grinds my gears are all the ones she lied about Marinette…”

“Yeah. They all known her for years and this new girl comes along and what? All that goes out the window?”

“Marinette does so much for them, and this is the thanks she gets? That they’ll believe Lila’s lies that she supposedly pushed her down the stairs, steal her necklace and some other bullshit?”

“Still heated about it?”

“Of course, I’m heating about it! They still think she did those things! From what Marinette told Aurore and Mireille, they didn’t even let her talk or defend herself. They took Lila’s side and expelled her.”

“Tell me again, how Marinette got un-expelled?”

“From what Marinette told them… Lila said she had a lying disease.”

“That is bull. I am so over the moon over the fact she’ll be leaving that class. Come on, Aurore said she’s going to need help setting things up.”

Juleka, Mylene and Nathaniel pushed themselves against the wall as they watched several students run past them towards the courtyard. Their expressions betrayed how they felt over what they just overheard. Did they just hear right? Lila has been lying this whole time… and none of them… No, just their class never caught it.

Except for Marinette.

Mylene shakily took out her phone to look up all of Lila’s stories, the others followed in doing so.

-.-

Adrien sat on a stone bench as he watched Kagami paced in front of him. Every time he tried to say something, she would shoot in a glare. He looked down on his lap as he tried to think of what he should say when he’s finally able to speak. Somehow, Kagami found out about Lila’s lies. All of them. From whom, he does not know. Maybe Marientte told her, he’ll have to ask her about it. She shouldn’t have told Kagami about Lila. “Kagami, did Marientte tell you about Lila? I-”

“Agreste, everyone at school and whoever has met Rossi, knows she is a liar. Everything that has ever come out of her mouth is a lie. Everything.” Kagami said in a tight voice. She stopped pacing to stare down at Adrien. “Marientte told me nothing. I was the one that had to go around to figure out exactly what type of person she is.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about Lila before you asked others?” Adrien asked, head shooting up to stare at Kagami with confusion. “I would ha-”

“You would have attempted to pressure me to not do anything against Rossi once I found out exactly what kind of person she is. However, considering you never told her off about that picture she took of the two of you…” Kagami looked up and down at Adrien, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You would have attempted to have me stay quiet about Rossi’s nature. Just like you are doing to, Marinette… correct?”

“I-I just don’t want to cause problems!” Adrien exclaimed, pushing himself off the bench. “I don’t want any problems in class, and with Marinette trying to out Lila it was impossible. I don’t want Lila to get akumatized anymore.”

Kagami stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what of your classmates? Your friends? Marinette or myself? I was akumatized because of her, remember? Don’t we all matter too?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Kagami.”

“Complicated? Complicated! How is that complicated! Explain yourself!”

“…”

“…What did you tell Marinette about Lila’s lies? Adrien, what did you tell her?”

“Could we drop this?”

“Tell. Me.”

“I told her, as long as me and her know the truth, does it really matter?”

“Adrien, it does matter! Everything matters! You are allowing Rossi to walk all over Marinette and make her out to be the bad guy for trying to stand up for herself.” Kagami snarled out, causing Adrien to jump. “You are forcing her to stay quiet about someone’s lies. You do realize once your friends find out, they will be the ones that are going to get akumatized. Not Rossi. What then? Who are you going to protect then?”

“I’m doing my best, Kagami.” Adrien pleaded.

“Your best is not good enough. Rossi is escalating and you are doing nothing. What will happen if she says you two are dating? What then? Far as I supposed know, are dating but this is extremely one sided considering you keep putting Rossi’s feelings above everyone.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“…you are pathetic. Your best is not good enough and it will never be.” Kagami sniffed, she pulled out her phone to look at the time and grinned a bit. She put it away before starting back at an obviously hurt Adrien. “What? Like I would allow someone who I am supposedly seeing, to put some other girl’s feelings above my own.”

Adrien opened and closed his mouth, unable to say anything as he was unable to respond to Kagami’s words. How was he supposed to respond that, there was no answer to that for him. “Please understand th-”

Kagami shook her head before she pulled out phone before putting it away. She gave Adrien on last look before walking away. “You need to stop putting horrible people above those that have been nothing but supportive of you… It’s no wonder why Marinette has finally given up.”

-.-

Ladybug swung around Paris at night as she thought over today’s events. It’s safe to say, that today has been one of the best days of her life since becoming Ladybug to say the least. She felt free and no longer held up to an impossible standard. To think transferring to a different class has made her feel as such. It also may have helped she told everything to Luka what has been happening to her since Lila came to Paris. The memory of that conversation made her blush as at the end of it, they are now officially together. It made her happy, immensely so.

Their first date was at the welcoming party Aurore and Mireille threw for her transfer to their class. Best date and party ever. The cherry on top, was when her former classmates crashed the party(apparently that was planned) and Claudette of @ClaudetteOneEye did a live reaction to one of the newest interview of Lila. It was priceless to say the least. Her former classmates tried to approach her but that was shut down immediately. Many other things had happened at the party that made it so much better, but that’s a thought for another day.

Right now, there is someone sitting alone at the park.

Is that Adrien?

Ladybug let out a sigh before she swung down to the park.

Adrien blinked a couple of times when he heard steps walking towards him. He looked over to see Ladybug walking up to him. He smiled at the sight of her. “Hello, Ladybug? Having a good night?”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Adrien, she sensed something is up with Adrien but did not make any notion for him to open up. “A little late to be out, Adrien?”

Adrien shrugged before he looked down at the ground, his brows furled deep in thought. “Can I ask you something, Ladybug? I need your advice in something?”

Ladybug stared at him for a moment before motioning for him to speak. Might as well hear what Adrien wants to say and need advice in. This is new considering how his advice has never been exactly the greatest.

Adrien began to tell her about the advice he had given to Marinette, when it came to Lila.

Adrien Agreste is asking her opinion on the advice he had given Marinette, who by extension, is actually herself. The same advice that had weighed heavy in her mind so much so, that it nearly akumatized her. Ladybug had stopped listening to Adrien as she felt anger started to bubble within her. This is too much, far too much. It was one thing to ask her about his original advice. Oh no, now he’s going on about Marinette’s actions that contradicted mentioned advice.

For what? To make sure that Lila does not get akumatized. Again.

“And Marinette? What of Marinette? Were you not even worried if she got Akumatized because of Lila?” Ladybug cut Adrien off. “Have you even thought of the highly possible chance she could be the one getting Akumatized over your advice? Paris got very lucky tonight there were no akumas out tonight otherwise the city would have Akuma’s at every corner of it.”

Adrien looked shocked over Ladybug’s words. His silence, his answer, has Ladybug starting to pace around.

“No, you did not care. What you cared is to make sure Marinette kept quiet and did not stand up for herself. Not only to Lila, but also by extension to Chloe.” Ladybug grounded out, sending Adrien a glare as she continued to pace. “You expected Marientte that as long as the two of you knew the truth, that nothing else pretty matters? That as long as Lila continued lying to everyone and allowing her to walk over Marinette, who is supposed to be your friend, that it did not matter?”

“It’s not like that, Ladybug.” Adrien stood up and approached Ladybug. Ladybug raised a hand at Adrien’s direction to stop him from getting close to her.

“Then how is it, Adrien?” Ladybug questioned. “You are prioritizing Lila over everyone, even if it puts them all at risk at getting akumatized themselves. Is that what you wanted to hear? That your advice is horrible. Let me tell you something, Marinette, your supposed friend to nearly get akumatized. Twice. It’s all because of Lila and the second time, Hawkmoth got to her and for some reason the akumatization did not take place. Lila caused that. All because she wanted to keep your promise when it came to her. Truth is that Lila Rossi is a liar that should have been exposed a long time ago and I am happy that it happened tonight. I am happy!”

“What about Lila? It was horrible what happened to her, she got humiliated in front of nearly the entire school.” Adrien tried to ask but was cut off when he saw Ladybug pulling out her yo-yo.

“To be frank Adrien… when it comes to bad people… you need to knock them down several pegs to get them to understand how wrong they are.”

#ML #ML Salt #Lila salt #Adrien Salt #Class Salt #Lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi #adrien agreste #salt #miraculous ladybug

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poisonheart · 2 years

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Listen, I don’t do “Pain Olympics” ~ I’ve always hated these debates about who is more pitiful and deserving of love and compassion. That I had to read with my own two eyes that people truly believe Anduin had it worse than Sylvanas just because she had a family in her childhood and had “more years of happiness” and he didn’t actually disgust me.

But hey, I’ll humor the Pain Olympics and participate in the race with that same flawed and gross logic. We can justify anything through the lens we want to look through, after all.

Let’s get this out of the way: we are talking about two very privileged characters. People treat Anduin like he’s some homeless orphan who had it rough. As if he’s had to raise himself. Even his servants loved him and were nurturing to him. You can absolutely be very rich and miserable, but let’s not pretend like Anduin was a Thrall level orphan.

(You see why Pain Olympics is stupid? There will always be people who had it worse. It’s a constant invalidating loop. You can’t measure pain. One year of suffering for Person A can feel like the 20 years of suffering from Person B. It’s insulting and invalidating to say Person B is more worthy of compassion just because they “suffered longer.”)

The other wild take I’ve seen in the Pain Olympic race is that Sylvanas has family that loves her now. LOL, bitch where? They specifically chose to make Sylvanas that “survivor who lost everything and everyone, repudiated/shunned/outcast” because it was fun to Blizz. Very fitting for a Horde-aligned character. Need to have lots of misery to later turn into a villain because of Horde things.

Her only surviving sister at that time was Vereesa and not once was she written to care for Sylvanas after undeath. When they finally remembered she existed they chose to use her to drive a dagger of “you’re unworthy and unlovable” through Sylvanas in that awful book “War Crimes” where Anduin was also written to be more than willing to listen and be super compassionate toward this other genocidal orc who actually tried to kill him.

In “Three Sisters” Vereesa and Alleria leave the awful meeting together because obviously, Sylvanas is a terrible monster now who can’t sit with them. There we have Alleria, corrupted by the void up the ass, but Vereesa is totally okay keeping her around because she’s aligned with her precious Alliance.

(And the narrative later proves they were right to think of Sylvanas as a monster because that’s what they wrote her to become.)

Finally, in “Shadows Rising” Alleria is written to be practically salivating to hunt Sylvanas down while employing the same questionable methods the self-righteous Alliance has always condemned the Horde for and no one gave a fuck about it, not even Anduin—the guy who was written to denounce all the atrocities Sylvanas was capable and willing to commit to justify the ends. Guess it’s only reprehensible when the enemy does it, no? Whatever.

Her sisters have been written to be awful. Whatever retcon they pull now about them caring for her doesn’t change the years where that wasn’t the case in canon. You can’t expect the fandom to just embrace such retcon now when they’ve been shit for years, building resentment in the audience.

Sylvanas’ story in Warcraft has always been about isolation, abandonment, and darkness, yet finding the strength to go on in spite of it—even when all she knew and loved was taken from her. To rebuild and forge ahead. Of course, Blizzard is retcon central, so who the fuck knows what’s canon anymore.

Now, let’s shift to Anduin while still participating in the Pain Olympics race. You know what he’s had? A support system. He has people who love him, who went to literal hell for him, and who will be there to help him overcome this new trauma. When he has flashbacks and nightmares about all he did while subjugated, he can reach out to literally anyone and find some comfort. He won’t be an outcast or shunned or deemed a total monster for the things he did or what’s happened to him. He will never get to experience that isolation. He got the good end. And we can’t pretend like that’s solely his merit. He’s even given his father and surrogate orc dad to help him beat the domination magic in the end.

You know who didn’t have that when it happened to her? Sylvanas. You know who won’t ever have that because now she’s done “mass murder” and lost all rights to compassion because of it? Sylvanas. And it is the consistent Blizzard narrative. Unless you’re like Anduin or Calia, processing trauma like a doormat, Blizzard writes characters as unworthy. Their intention works when you have so many people saying Anduin is more pitiful than Sylvanas because his 19-20 years of life have all been awful compared to her who at least knew happiness and family in her childhood and simply threw it all away for revenge. Yes, that’s a genuine take I’ve seen thrown out there. Not even joking.

When Anduin comes back home to his castle/city/people after being dominated, he will be surrounded by people who love and support him. Because that’s the kind of character Blizzard writes as worthy of all that ending.

This has been painful. Participating in Pain Olympics to write all the above sickens me. Trying to quantify misery made me want to puke. In the end, both are characters who suffered. Both have gone through pain and loss and I don’t think it’s fair to try and measure it and use the results to weigh who deserves compassion. But that’s what Blizzard wants. That’s why they made Anduin the listener of Sylvanas’ life story.

This is the reaction they live for and thrive on. They want to further vilify her under the guise of “look, we’re giving you her back story to explain what we couldn’t put in the game for five years” while uplifting yet another precious Alliance NPC because they’re the only ones worthy of squishy feelings and sympathy in this franchise. It doesn’t matter how the book ends or what he ultimately thinks of her. If you are agreeing with “Anduin is more pitiful” you’re playing precisely into the kind of thing Blizzard/Golden wants you to think. Congrats.

#sylvanas windrunner #man when I look at this pile of shit and think of how FF14 handled villains and compassion #seriously Blizzard needs to fire their entire narrative team #even Anduin has been butchered #so many characters have been ruined #even villains #queued post #if you think Blizzard loves Sylvanas I don’t know what to tell you #if you think they favor her after all the shit they’ve done to her character I don’t know what to tell you either #edited because I wrote this angry and sleepy

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

#athenawrites #my writing #exophilia #monster lover #orc lover #orc x human #monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #monster x human #requests #fiction #terato #romance #monster romance #orc

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my-burnt-city · 1 year

Text

Yesterday on the Discord we were playing a fun guessing game that was REALLY hammering home just how integral a part of the performance audience perception is. Not only do the roles vary wildly depending on who is playing them, or even who they're playing against or even what day it is, but different audience members pick up different things. Although you and I might be peaceably sharing a loop and watching exactly the same performance at exactly the same time, maybe you're going to zoom in on the sadness in their eyes while I'm going to find myself more attuned to the comic beats

It's always been the wonderful thing about theatre, getting to see how different performers approach different roles, and particularly since they brought in the system of alternating casts and swings, Punchdrunk shows have always felt like a speed-run of that principle

So with this in mind, please accept this small primer where I briefly explain what I personally have taken away from every single Aegisthus to date in The Burnt City

Andrea "Loyal Aegisthus" Carrucciu - the cool thing about the OG Aegisthuses is that even though he has his own agenda in the story, that doesn't mean his relationship with Clytemnestra is any less sincere, and that is what has drawn me back to the character over and over (AND OVER) again

Paul "Devoted Aegisthus" Zivkovich - the key difference between the two OGs for me is that Paul always gave off the impression that his devotion to Clytemnestra was borderline agonising, that everything would have been so much easier for him if he didn't love her at all actually

Luigi "Elegant Aegisthus" Nardone - Aegisthus is my favourite dancey role, and Luigi just has an incredible way of moving, unbelievably expressive and extremely elegant, I could watch it for days

Steven "Disgusting Aegisthus" Apicello - if there are two things that can be said for this man's work, they are that 1) he always goes the extra mile and 2) he LOVES to spit!

Tim "Bitter Aegisthus" Bartlett - most Aegisthuses focus on the relationship with Clytemnestra, but Tim was clearly very familiar with the historical beef Aegisthus had with Agamemnon, and really let his hatred and bitterness shine through whenever he could

Harry "Fraternal Aegisthus" Price - had a real familial familiarity with Clytemnestra, one of the least sexual pairings, clearly just an old friend here to offer some comfort but mostly exploit connections

Ryan "Sexy Aegisthus" O'Neill - had a real sizzling chemistry with Clytemnestra, felt almost intrusive watching it, A+++, would voyeur over this casting again

Ali "Naïve Aegisthus" Goldsmith - like, he knew what he was getting into, but he didn't entirely get the full story of what he was getting into, and felt increasingly like a man who had got himself out of his depth but had to plough on with his commitments regardless

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

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💌 Requested by @impossibleapricotlampbat

pairing: Harry Styles x reader, One Direction x reader (platonic)

Request: Hi love ❤️. i love your posts and i was wondering since you are taking raquests can you do a harry styles or anyone from one diraction where 1D is having a concert and the reader who is someone from the group’s gf being in front of the stage and them some random person flirting with her and trying to put their arm around the reader’s waist and they see it and say into their microphone put your hand down boy she’s mine and glaring at the person. sorry if its to much.

a/n: Thank you for the request my love! I really hope you enjoy it🥰 Every hour is missing them hours if it’s referring to One Direction.

Hands Off

From backstage you could hear the screams and cheers of the fans. The boys were currently in their dressing rooms getting last minute things fixed.

“How do I look, love?” Harry, your boyfriend, asked as he stood in front of you modeling his outfit.

He was dressed in a silky button down that had a fair amount of buttons undone and black jeans with his Chelsea boots. Necklaces hung from his neck and rested against his chest where his swallow tattoo peaked from the collar of his shirt.

You tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear and tilt your head at him.

“Absolutely gorgeous, darling.” You sayin a fake posh accent while flicking your hair to the side. The action causes Harry to chuckle and shake his head.

“I love you, but the accent is rubbish.” He brought you towards him by wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You giggled and wrap your arms around his torso. The boys are currently on their On The Road Again tour. Since you were in Uni, you couldn’t tour with the boys, much to Harry’s dismay. Tonight was one of those nights where you would fly out to where they were and would stay with them a few days.

“Ye gonna be okay with Mum and Gemma?” He quietly asked as he rested his chin on your head.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. We all flew out here together, Har.” You reassure him pecking his chin.

“I’m jus making sure.” He hummed as he continued to hold you until Paul told them it was showtime.

The boys were given their ear pieces before they were called to the stage. You stood by the side with Lou, Gemma, and Anne as the boys did their little chant. When they clapped they moved towards the stairs that led to the stage.

“Goodluck guys! Break a leg!” You yell after them. A chorus of “thank yous” came from the boys except Niall who yelled, “Wait don’t say that I have weak knees!”

“Goodluck Niall!” You laugh as he sends a thumbs up towards your way. Harry rushes down the stairs calling you. You meet him halfway, “What? The show—.”

You’re cut off by Harry smashing his lips onto yours. You’re caught off guard but come back to your senses to kiss him back. He pulls away with a smack as he runs his thumb past your bottom lip.

“I needed my goodluck kiss.” He cheekily smiled before catching up with the boys at the top of the platform.

—•

The boys were now halfway into the concert. The fans were loud, singing along to the songs, and laughing at the boys’ antics on stage. You were watching by the side with Lou, Lux, Gemma, and Anne. A few fans noticed you guys causing you all to wave. Lux, who was in your arms waved at them as well. The area you guys were at had a good view of the stage and security nearby.

“It’s uncle Louis!” Lux pointed as she tapped your shoulder. Louis made a silly face at her before running off in another direction. You laughed as your eyes moved around the venue. A few feet away from you was a guard, he must’ve worked for the arena because you didn’t recognize him. For the whole first half of the concert you could feel his eyes on you instead of doing his job. You tried to avoid his stare, moving to the side, sticking next to Gemma and Lou, even shamelessly hid behind Lux while you carried her. But his eyes would always catch you.

“I think Lux and I are going to move backstage to watch, it’s too loud here and I don’t want her to go deaf.” Lou said as held her hands up for Lux. You passed her baby to her and remained beside Gemma.

“I think I’m gonna tag along with them, you girls gonna be alright?” Anne questioned as she moved to follow Lou.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine!” Gemma answered for the both of you.

The boys moved to sit on the center of the walkway, preparing to sing Little Things. Harry searched the crowd for you and his sister. When he spotted you both he waved, putting on a little show that made the crowd giggle.

“What a clown.” Gemma snorted as she nudged your shoulder. You chuckled at her comment.

“Unfortunately he’s our clown.”

—•

While the boys sang Little Things you felt a presence beside you. You thought it was Anne joining you and Gemma again but it turned out to be the security guard who kept staring at you. You visibly move closer to Gemma trying to listen to the boys sing.

“What do you say we sneak backstage and fool around a bit?” He whispered into your ear invading your personal space.

“I’m not interested.” You quickly shoot him down. The guy tisked and leaned against the barricade.

“C’mon baby, I know you’re bored watching a bunch of lil boys playing around on stage.” He tried to coax you as he ran a finger along your arm.

“I already told you I’m not interested. I have a boyfriend.” You snapped at him before yanking your arm away from him.

From the stage Zayn and Liam noticed the altercation. Still singing, Liam roughly nudged Harry while Zayn moved towards the part of the stage nearest to you. Harry looked to where Liam was pointing at. An irritated look was on your face as the guy wrapped his disgusting arm around you. Harry saw you push on the guy’s chest but he still wouldn’t budge. Gemma now noticed what was happening and was trying to tell the guy to fuck off.

“OI! GET YER HANDS OFF MY GIRLFRIEND!” Harry yelled as he ran to where Zayn was. The guard who was harassing you jumped as he looked towards the stage. Above him was Zayn and Harry challenging looks on both their faces.

“Has your mother not taught you any manners? Did she ever tell you not to touch a woman without permission?” Harry’s voice boomed in the mic as he moved to jump off the stage. Harry gripped the guard’s arm and ripped it off your body. Security had now moved to where you were and took the guard who was harassing you.

Harry glared at him as they took him away. He turned back to you, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry questioned you as he inspected your body as best as he can in the dim arena. The boys were now concerned as they stood near the side of the stage where you all were gathered. The fans were now curious to what was happening.

“I’m fine, Harry, he didn’t do anything. I told him I wasn’t interested and—.” You tried to explain but Harry cut you off.

“No, you don’t need to explain yerself. You told him to fuck off and he wouldn’t, he came onto you.” Harry reassured you as he smoothed his hands across your arms in comfort. You look around the see everyone looking at you guys.

“Get back on stage. I’ll head backstage where Lou and your mom are.” You tell him before pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” He asked again staring into your eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine. Now go back on stage before the fans get upset.” You tell him before pushing him towards the stage.

“They could wait, but if you say so.” He mumbled.

“I love you.” He kissed your temple before motioning Gemma to go with you. She nodded and looped her arm with yours.

“Love you too, Haz.” You tell him before walking backstage.

“Can you escort them backstage, please?” Harry asks a security guard. The guard nods and follows you and Gemma.

The boys help Harry back up the stage before asking if everything was alright. Harry quickly explained what happened before resuming the concert.

“Sorry about that everyone! Just a reminder to my girls here tonight. Your body is yours and no one should feel the need to touch your body without your permission! You get a say in who touches you and who doesn’t, remember that!” Harry announced to the audience. The crowd cheered in praise and agreement.

The boys nodded along before getting back to their spots.

“Someone’s getting fired tonight!” Louis sang as he danced in his seat making the crowd laugh.

#ally’s requests #one direction x reader #one direction #Harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles headcannon #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles oneshot #Liam Payne #Louis Tomlinson #Niall Horan #zayn #zayn Malik

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hageny · 3 years

Text

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

1. Like a normo.

While on the phone with Gerri in Safe Room, Roman tells her he’s going to stick it out in training and “...become a real boy...” and “...have phone sex with my girlfriend like a normo.”. This last bit is interesting because it is a foreshadowing of what happens later in the episode, where Roman calls Tabitha and attempts to talk dirty with her on the phone and ultimately realizes he is unable to connect with her sexually in anyway, which culminates in him simply hanging up on her and realizing the effort was futile. Immediately afterward, he calls Gerri and begins sparring with her and ultimately pleasures himself while she is on the phone with him. Did the earlier mention of “phone sex” only serve to hint at what was to come, or could this be taken apart as well? Firstly, one could consider that Roman mentions being capable of having phone sex with a girlfriend--which would tie into his enjoyment of “wrong” sex--and sees this as something pleasurable, to be enjoyed with the right woman. Tabitha obviously is not that woman, and as mentioned in my previous post, is seen by Roman as nothing more than an object, something he does not connect to. Secondly, one can deduce that Roman and Gerri are already slated to become lovers later in the series, and this season hints heavily at this happening. Roman mentions the ability to have phone sex with a girlfriend, and then does so with Gerri with ease while she happily engages him. As much as Gerri is molding Roman into the man she needs him to be so they can secure their positions at Waystar, Roman is also molding Gerri into the woman he desires. He pushes and prods her and takes her into darker, sexually charged territory to see if she can fulfill his needs. Is Gerri only going along with this to screw Roman later once she achieves her ends, or does she too desire him equally? I hope the latter is true.

2. True essences.

While at the retreat in Argestes, Roman visits Gerri’s room late at night and they discuss their union and how assisting each other will ultimately help them both obtain what they want. Roman refers to them as “Rockstar and Mole Woman”, then quickly dismisses this personification of themselves as being, “our public profiles, not our true essences”. This is interesting because it suggests that this idea of ‘public self and private self’ is part of the core of their relationship. Roman and Gerri both project a facade to those around them: Roman as the womanizing playboy uninterested in power, and Gerri as the indifferent lackey willing to go along with whatever transpires around her. Secretly, however, Roman becomes increasingly interested in obtaining power, and Gerri slowly reveals her discomfort with simply going along with Logan’s ideas. The ease with which Roman both constructs an identity for them and then tears it apart suggests that Roman knows full well that they are playing a game with those around them and that within their relationship there exists a truth of who they individually are that is not seen by others. As the ancient Japanese proverb says:

“The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show to your close friends, and your family. The third face, you never show anyone.”

How honest will Gerri and Roman ultimately become with one another?

3. CEO & Chair.

Another point of interest is what Roman mentions to Gerri while discussing the idea of a takeover headed by the two of them. He mentions to her that she would be the executive chair and he the CEO, then quickly reverses the scenario placing her in the position of CEO and himself in the position of chair. This is interesting because of how easily Roman is willing to relinquish power to her and play with the idea of himself as CEO or chair and is seemingly fine with both. This serves to highlight that Roman’s need for Gerri on the surface is solely business related, but in reality his interest in her is deep enough that he is willing to accept whichever position she does not want because his ultimate desire is to keep her close to him. What Gerri thinks about all this is hard to say, but it is worth pointing out that she is the one who pushed him to go into management training, and last season went to him immediately after the disastrous shuttle launch, which she knew could potentially have gotten him into serious legal trouble. This is different from how she approaches Tom in Sad Sack Wasp Trap about the issue with the cruises when she realizes he wants to publicly own up to their deceptive practices. She relates the story of the Sin Cake Eater and essentially tells him to “eat the sins” of the corpse and be content with the riches that come along with sin. Later, she passes Greg and tells him “Good kid. Smart move. Keep talking.”, highlighting her ability to manipulate both of them into doing what she wants. This essentially highlights Gerri’s tenacity and willingness to discard those she views as disinteresting to her. It hints at a darker aspect to her character, which equals Roman’s feelings of disgust toward his own family. This loops back around to the CEO and chair mention because it serves to showcase that like those positions in a company, Roman and Gerri operate in tandem with one another and their need for one another is equal.

4. Cellphones at dinner.

I should preface this next analyses by saying that I could be wrong in what I’ve perceived but I’ll mention it anyway in the hopes of sparking some discussion in the comments.

During the dinner in Hunting, Logan demands that all the members of the dinner party place their cellphones on the table in hopes of sussing out who ruined his move to take over PGM. As they are placing their phones on the table, Gerri uncharacteristically challenges Logan, questioning whether such a demand is even legal and why it’s necessary. The fact that this angers her is interesting, because, as we see later on in the season, Gerri and Roman spend quite a bit of time on the phone together. Gerri has nothing else to hide, presumably, so can we deduce that her nervousness is related to her relationship with Roman? Were anyone to look at her phone, it may be difficult for her to explain the frequent contact with him while her contact with the other members of the Roy family is almost always in person in the office. While most of their talks are shown post-Hunting, this could indicate that what we see later on is simply a continuation of something that has been going on for longer than the audience is aware of. This could explain their intimate scene the next morning as she buttons his shirt, and could also relate to their working the proxy deal in Vaulter together. While the audience doesn’t see what all went on during that time, we can assume that their increasing intimacy in later episodes suggests that something inappropriate was happening already.

The screenshot above is crucial, because it contains a detail that I may have misinterpreted, but will touch on now. While the others relinquish their cellphones, we see Roman slide a cellphone off the table to his left and hide it in his lap while he hands over the one located in his back pocket. Logan insists on both company and personal phones, meaning all the characters have two. Roman’s of course is later taken from him by Kendall, and this is where it is revealed that Roman was talking to Naomi Pierce and unintentionally destroyed his father’s business deal. However, which phone did Kendall take from Roman? The one he is filming the boar on the floor game with is a silver phone, the one he is usually seen with in the show, most likely his company phone. Roman hides his (probable) personal phone. If wishing to keep it concealed, it would stand to reason that the phone he used to film the game--which Kendall ultimately snatched from him--is the one he placed on the table, which is where all the phones were left anyway. So is it possible that Roman was more willing to get in trouble for his dealings with Naomi Pierce than relinquish his personal cellphone, which could’ve contained damning evidence of his relationship with Gerri? It’s worth noting that of all the characters at the table, only the two of them protest handing over their phones. If the scene the next morning is any indicator, the intimacy between them was already growing to a point that would make it hard to explain to anyone around them. Gerri was also the only one to slip away from the breakfast room to check on Roman, who once again was forgotten by his family, his absence likely unnoticed by them in the first place. Being unnoticed by those around them is another point of similarity; both Roman and Gerri aren’t referred to or called on unless needed by the others to fulfill their subservient positions, then ultimately discarded until they are needed again. Both of them are underappreciated, underestimated, and presumably bitter. Is what we see all there is to their relationship, or is the truth in the details, hidden in the stitching of the clothing that is the show? As I stated earlier, I could always be wrong.

Thank you to all who have commented and engaged with my posts so far. I hope that I will have material enough to continue to do these, although presumably I’ll run out at some point. Regardless, it’s a pleasure so far.

#gerri/roman #gerri x roman #gerri kellman #roman roy #succession #succession hbo #hbo succession #succession thoughts

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akajulester · 3 years

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further thoughts on Higurashi Gou/Sotsu (spoilers for Higurashi and Umineko ep3)

warning: long rant incoming haha

I think my two biggest problems with these seasons is how they focused way more on the supernatural/magic elements of the When They Cry franchise and less on the original Higurashi’s emphasis on natural explanations, and how the characters were completely devoid of the life they had in the original.

I’ve only just started getting into Umineko and I understand it also leaves a lot of room for a non-magical explanation, but you can’t deny it focuses way more on magic than Higurashi ever did.

The thing I found most interesting when I first watched Higurashi was how the mystery had a very human and realistic explanation. While a mystical divine curse is cool, the whole plot being the result of a human character taking advantage of a fictional parasite and medicine to essentially create the mystical divine curse is far more compelling - the audience is allowed to piece together the mystery along with the characters and isn’t shut down by “a wizard did it.”

And that isn’t to say Higurashi is completely devoid of magic or the divine. Hanyuu is some kind of mystical deity who gave Rika a supernatural power (looping) and is able to manifest in the real world and directly affect the course of events (such as making Takano miss her shot). Higurashi is just a perfect blend of supernatural and more realistic storytelling.

Gou and Sotsu, on the other hand, went much harder on the supernatural/magic aspect seen in Umineko. Not only is it a worse magic vs human mystery than Umineko, it’s just completely different from what Higurashi is at its core. The complex, interweaving mystery that at first seems unsolvable but later makes sense was replaced with a much simpler “whodunnit” where the answers were obvious, especially after Satoko was revealed to be the second looper. The introduction of straight-up magic and powerful witch entities dumbs down the story, in a sense.

To be fair, Gou and Sotsu do have a human explanation as well, specifically in the vein of the human explanations seen in Umineko. Just as Eva-Beatrice in Episode 3 can be interpreted as a personification of Eva going crazy and murdering her family, Rika and Satoko’s big magical-girl fight could be interpreted as a metaphor for their fight. However, this rings a little hollow when the last episode essentially says “nah, they definitely turned into Bernkastel and Lambdadelta.” It feels like there’s almost no room for a true human explanation.

The other thing I found most compelling about Higurashi is the characters, more specifically how they interacted with each other and felt like very real people. I want to read the sound novels at some point mainly because I’ve heard the anime didn’t fully do the characters justice by cutting out small but important moments. Mion and Shion especially were amazing, their dynamic as twins was probably one of the best I’ve ever seen in storytelling. Also, the main message of Higurashi is literally about the power of friendship, and it portrays it in such an amazing way you forget the sentiment is a bit cheesy.

And yet, Gou/Sotsu ignored every single character who wasn’t Rika or Satoko (except maybe Hanyuu and Eua). While I can understand the decision to focus on them since the only point of the show was apparently to set up Bernkastel and Lambdadelta, it actually makes them feel more hollow and lifeless, to me at least.

Keiichi’s lack of presence was especially baffling in this regard. He was arguably the main reason Rika was able to break out of the loops at all, as he helped inspire her with the idea a miracle could happen if their entire group of friends worked together. And with Satoko, he became her big brother figure! The fact that Gou/Sotsu not only push their relationship off to the wayside but also have Satoko get Keiichi murdered in horrifically brutal ways AND purposely inject him with Hinamizawa Syndrome without any shred of remorse or guilt is disgusting. Are you seriously telling me Satoko had a massive internal struggle over taking advantage of Teppei (y’know, the guy who abused her and her brother and severely traumatized them), but felt absolutely nothing over torturing Keiichi, the boy who she knows has fought to save her from said abusive uncle in multiple worlds and would literally kill for her??? Wtf???

The same thing goes for the almost non-existence of Shion in Gou/Sotsu. Shion also has a very strong relationship with Satoko (except for the worlds where she goes crazy and brutally murders her lmao) and has ALSO threatened to kill that abusive uncle for hurting Satoko, something Satoko would know full well after watching all of Rika’s loops. It’s reasonable Satoko would have more ambiguous feelings about Shion (since, again, Shion has killed her in Watanagashi arcs), but I find it bizarre she would be this willing to brutally murder, torture, and directly cause events leading others to murder/torture her surrogate big sister and surrogate big brother.

The whole story in general is baffling when you consider Satoko’s character. Are we seriously supposed to believe her drifting apart from a close friend is somehow more traumatic to her than the isolation and exclusion she experienced from her entire town and the literal abuse she went through from her aunt and uncle? You can’t even really use the “oh the town didn’t actually want to persecute her family tho” argument because that doesn’t negate Satoko’s experience of living through it. It’s especially dumb when you consider Gou/Sotsu somehow make Satoko’s argument “I don’t wanna study waaahhhhh” as if it makes any sense when you know these characters.

Don’t even get me started on how nobody even reacts to Satoko’s bullshit. The original Higurashi had characters sometimes remember past arcs/worlds, and Gou explicitly stated Satoko’s loops meant characters would remember even more. And yet, all that happens is Takano and Teppei reforming. What??? I expected the ending to involve Keiichi, Rena, Mion, and Shion realizing what Satoko had done to them and getting rightfully angry with Rika over what Satoko did to all of them. The show should’ve ended with the group cutting her off for being so fucking awful to them. Jfc...

In the end, I think Gou was fine and Tatariakashi-hen in Sotsu was cool, but this show just felt so empty compared to the original Higurashi and Umineko. Both stories are focused on the CHARACTERS, and while there are main characters in both who get more focus than the rest of the cast, every single character’s interactions with each other are vital to what makes their stories compelling. Dropping all of that to hone in on 2 specific characters actually robs even those characters of their depth and vividness.

#higurashi #higurashi sotsu #sotsu #higurashi no naku koro ni #umineko #umineko no naku koro ni #anime #Julie being a weeb #rant #higurashi spoilers #umineko spoilers #spoilers #warning: long post #ugh

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malaks-perch · 4 years

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wine tasting

consul valerius x reader

everyone loves a pain in the ass...

warnings: maybe some innuendoes? floof. spice and everything nice. soft angst, but i dont think so. sofff valerius? spicy valerius👌👌 swearing. i think there's swearing

a/n: sorry this took so long @taeguccibracelet and i think its kinda short. lil fast paced too. my ask is open.

now when nadia asked you to spend a day with valerius, you did not anticipate the forever drinking man to be so.. so.. so sassy.

i mean who could refuse nadia? portia came scrambling in as you finished speaking with nadia when the redhead announced the early arrival of some foreign ambassador the countess appraised your company and asked that you entertain her's for a while.

now honestly, you'd rather let them scream at each other until they lost their voices. neither of them got along, asra once dismissed himself, but the nadia's hopeful eyes were hard to ignore.

portia was silently thanking you a thousand times over as she trailed behind the countess.

when the courtiers got wind of this?

you? entertain them?

all of them scrambled for an excuse to be elsewhere. everyone except valerius.

"well? you heard the countess." he raised a brow, motioning to the door making the wine in the same hand violently jolt in it's glass. "entertain me."

you had to grit your teeth. bite your cheek. curl your fists. anything to keep from snapping on this arrogant son of a—

"are you going to stand there?" valerius shook his head unimpressed that his needs were not met. "if standing around is all you're good for, now that you've gone and defeated—"

"listen here, you pompous piece of palace trash." there went your restraint. words were flying fast and not a thought in your head would stop you from giving this man a piece of your mind. "the only reason you're here, valerius, is because nadia took pity on your drunk ass. you're lucky that asra stopped lucio from dragging you down with him because if it were me? i would have dropped you like a bag of dirt. entertain. yourself."

the audience in your head was applauding you for a flawless rebuttal to valerius. you were storming towards the door and already planning how you would unwind after dealing with him. honestly, the nerve of that guy—

a hand shut the door you had begun to open. fear spiked at your nerves. for a moment you forgot who you were and the identity of the person behind you. striking up an ounce of bravery, you followed the hand over your shoulder to valerius.

now.. you would expect a furious courtier. the smell of nectar and a sweet floral scent filled your nose that would have put anyone to ease, but the bitter trails of alcohol were a sharp reminder of who you had pissed off.

but upon seeing valerius at ease, you didn't know what to expect. he raised a brow, a tiny smirk on his face upon meeting your wide eyes.

"if i had been lucio moments ago that little outburst of yours would have you banished from the palace walls in a second."

you wanted to tell him that you'd purposely give him food poisoning, but the clarity of his silvern irises rendered you speechless. especially when he leaned in until he was a breath away.

"but it's a good thing i'm not him." he whispered, staring into your glimmering eyes.

there was a moment of stillness. valerius staring into your eyes and you trying to figure out why you didn't want to rip him apart for invading your personal space. but then it was gone.

he was gone. turning his back to you and skillfully picking up a few bottles of wine and an old glass in another. one moment you could taste the sweet aroma on his breath and another he was back to you.

"come along, magician." valerius raised a brow to you, peering over his shoulder with a smirk. "why don't we disappear for awhile? it'd be a shame for you to have an episode in front of the countess."

disappear?

your eyes widened. no way. he couldn't have— could he? you chased after valerius, running through the door after him, "was that a pun?!"

valerius rolled his eyes as you both walked down a hallway and off the veranda into the garden. it was then you realized that the path valerius was taking through the garden was one you were unfamiliar with.

you reached for valerius, clinging to his arm as you glanced around at the different part of the garden where valerius was taking you. he only smirked, never sparing a glance as stopped in front of rusted iron gates that towered over the both of you.

"valerius, if you even think of assassinating me—"

valerius let out something of a laugh before glancing over at you, "obviously the palace magician isn't aware of the previous count's cellar."

"lucio couldn't have—"

"as much as lucio would like to claim this masterpiece, this is far too classy for his tastes."

you fought a laugh, watching as he pulled out a gilded wooden key and unlocked the giant doors.

valerius ushered you inside and closed the door, unaware of how you'd suddenly looked doe-eyed when you'd begun to take in your surroundings.

plush pillows and blankets were set over every inch of the floor. shades of maroon and magenta set out in the floor while floating candles lit themselves up upon valerius muttering an incantation.

"it's amusing that you consider yourself important enough to be assassinated." valerius called, plopping down on a large black pillow much too big to be for just one person.

"and i suppose you are?" you scoffed, raising a brow as you took one of the bottles from valerius and sitting next to him on the blankets.

he set a hand on his chest as he set down wine bottles, "vesuvia would weep for me."

"i would weep for vesuvia if historians thought you were important enough to be assassinated." you snorted, opening the wine bottle so the cork flew past his head.

in turn, valerius mirrored you except his cork hit you square in the forehead. he chuckled at the horrified look you gave him.

in favor of preserving your honor, you chucked one of the pillows behind you and it landed square in valerius's face. he sat up in time to see you on your back, laughing at the way his face contorted with disgust, but upon seeing you smiling he couldn't help but smirk a little.

he handed you a bottle and you took it wondering what on earth made his lips turn up in the slightest.

"i didn't know you could smile, valerius."

"I didn't know the palace magician could have fun." he shot you smile, gilded eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass.

"you never asked." you teased, wrapping your lips around the bottle's rim and dipped your head back to let the sweet liquid sliver down your throat.

if you'd been looking you would have seen valerius nearly drop his wine glass while he stared.

his eyes focused on the length of your neck before trailing up to the wine that trickled from the side of your mouth. valerius tore his eyes away from you so he could gather his thoughts as he stared into his own glass.

"if you keep drinking, you're going to end up drunk." he rolled his eyes, relaxing into the pillows behind him.

he wasn't expecting a weight to come crashing down on the pillows to his right. his eyes snapped open and his head snapped over to find you with your legs propped on his and raising a brow at him.

"are you—"

"why don't you like me?" he nearly choked on his spit.

he met your brillaintly dilated eyes and nearly swore aloud for it. every time he found himself staring at them he would nearly forget what he was thinking.

you crossed your arms, waiting for an answer. with your hair messed up and how you laid back with that bottle of wine...

he found his thoughts dipping into the gutter.

"p-pardon?" he asked, opting for switching his glass for the bottle to take a nice long drink.

"why don't you like me?" you repeated without missing a beat.

valerius set his bottle down while he gathered his thoughts and waited for you to continue.

"you're always nitsticking me—"

"nitpicking."

"see?!" you pointed your bottle at him and his lips puckered when he realized that he'd proved your point. "then you're always looking down your nose at me. so tell me, consul~"

he watched you climb up so you sat up beside him. valerius tried so desperately to maintain eye contact, but with the alcohol in his system and the delicious warmth radiating off you- it was becoming a challenge.

"why don't you like me?"

he scoffed, taking your bottle and nearing your face with the slightst smirk. "i'm like that with everyone, darling."

you snatched the bottle from his lips and before he could ground something out, you were straddling his lap and pushing him back by his chest as you took a swing.

he swallowed when you never broke eye contact with him. one of his hands curling around yours that pressed to his chest before yanking.

you went falling forward and valerius' lips caught yours, drinking down the wine from your lips before pulling back to look at your flustered expression.

wine trickled down the side of his mouth and he grinned, flipping you on your back before standing up. "despite how very alluring you are, i propose we reconvene after we're both sober, yes?"

valerius helped you to your feet and promptly guided you out of the cellar upon hearing the guards calling for you.

you couldn't help, but watch as valerius locked up the cellar with the same pointed look as always except there was a tiny pull upward at the corner of his lips.

"i'm surprised you didn't we didn't wine, dine, and—"

you were cut off by his chuckle and his hand caressing your cheek, leaning into you. "obviously, you've had too much to drink."

"so you're into me then, consul valerius?"

a mischevious smile on his face before he waved his hand and let out the most dramatic sigh. "i suppose it's the pretty face that got me."

he turned meeting your eyes, the sharp gaze making your breath hitch. especially when he extended a hand towards you.

"but you can't say that's what drew you to me." his fingers looped with yours and tugged you to walk beside him.

"i think~" you sang, spinning in his arms as the sunset flitted over the gardens. "it was the wine."

valerius rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before you parted to join the guards waiting for you at the veranda.

"until next time, valerius."

you were halfway up the stairs when he called you back.

underneath the moonlight, arms crossed over his chest as he gave a teasing smile. even in the wine stained robes, he seemed most radiant as he stared upon you.

"next time, we dine first."

a giddy feeling bubbled in your chest and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling then. maybe valerius was the cranky, ill-tempered consul.

but he could be.. pleasant when he wanted to.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana valerius #valerius the arcana #valerius x mc #valerius x you #valerius x reader #the arcana x apprentice #valerius x apprentice #the arcana x mc #the arcana x you #the arcana x reader #valerius #consul valerius #consul valerius x mc

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