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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago

Note

Okay this may sound like an oddly detailed request but can you do a Laszlo x reader where Laszlo has been courting the reader for a while and has never met her father, because her father is dead or abandoned her at a young age or something like that and she never told Laszlo, but Laszlo is instant on meeting him for some reason or something like that?

Sorry if thats a weird request

Unofficial Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: a bit angsty, mention of old fashioned ideas

Author’s note: I hope you will like it and I respected your wishes <3

"Miss?"

The voice of your chamber maid called you distracting you from answering some correspondence.

"Yes?"

She smiled so widely as a bouquet of white roses and peonies was presented in front of you. She giggled as she was just so happy for you. You have been courted by Dr Laszlo Kreizler for some time now, but he never missed to send you flowers on a Saturday morning, it was his ritual since you two became serious.

"Those are so beautiful, miss"

She said excitedly before leaving you to read the note, she was probably living the romance through you which was quite weird but cute to witness.

You opened the card, Laszlo usually was a brief but intense poet, but this time the message was clear. Can I tempt you with a lunch at Delmonico's?

You frowned lightly before looking out of your window, his dark clothing making him strikingly visible in the greenery of the park in front of your house, he raised his hat for you and smiled.

Damn him and his top level courting.

You put your letters away and got ready spraying some perfume on you before going out, your maid helping you with your coat and hat.

When you stepped out of the front Door Laszlo was waiting in front of your gate.

"You could have called"

He smirked at you "it wouldn't have been a surprise" he concluded simply.

You smirked as it was true and you have also learned to admire the extent of Laszlo'd courtship. He was attentive and respectful, he knew when to trace a line to forbid any kind of bad talks. He was already famous for being a maverick and he didn't want to put that stigma on you too.

You obliged him as you walked your way together to the restaurant, he never failed to ask you about your day and your plans. he was very attentive and you reserved him the same tenderness asking him about his patients or latest articles.

Once you arrived at the restaurant you were brought to one of the best tables, Laszlo taking upon himself the honour to move your chair back behind you and then back toward you for you to sit comfortably.

"Thank you Laszlo"

He smiled proudly taking it as a compliment, but he looked rather stiff and tense for his usual mannerism toward you.

Once you ordered your meal he toyed with his glass of wine a bit attracting inevitably your attention.

"What is wrong?"

He looked at you surprised by your question, but he smiled because you sort of alleviated him from the weight of beginning what he wanted to ask.

"I was just wondering when I will be able to meet your father" he said just as directly as your question was "I met your grandmother and your uncles and aunts, I am missing somebody"

He said it quite easily as your mother had left this earth early for the standard and you regret she won't be able to see what an amazing man you met.

"You don't need to meet him"

He stared at you puzzled, what really concerned him wasn't your refusal, but more the hardness you showed into expressing it.

"I think I do"

You glared at him, your conversation briefly interrupted by the waiters landing the plates in front of the two of you.

He thanked them before looking back at you, your stern look still there.

You had discussions before but never of this size and also as much as he tried before to hint the theme of your father he wasn't acknowledged at all.

He also noticed how the rest of your family followed that same guideline, acting like they found you under a tree.

"I think it is something I have to do sooner or later"

You glared at him again.

"Stop it"

It was hard for him to stop. He was already launched on the theme and he was worse than a wild animal when he got fixated over a theme in particular.

You pushed some common ground theme while you ate. Like John or Sara's agency or other mundane things, but you hated to see the intensity in his look.

That question over and over into his mind.

You never hated to be with him as much as you did now.

You declined the offer of a dessert pretty quickly just wanting to go away.

Laszlo obliged and lead you back outside escorting you to your place.

"I don't mean to be invasive.."

"But you're" you confirmed to him "thank you for the lunch, I can walk myself home on my own”

You left him there moving after your house's gate.

He stood there biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You didn't contact him any further on that day or the ones that followed, to be honest you avoided him and his flowers and attentions. You even stayed at home instead of attending places you were supposed to be, but where he also might find you.

Until your grandmother called you and you furiously ordered your maid to call the doctor and make him come at your place.

He arrived quicker than you expected. He was worried something happened, maybe you were ill and nobody told him.

When your maid showed him the way to your study and closed the door behind him he tried immediately to politely ask you about your state but your eyes burned holes like bullets in him.

“How dare you?” You growled at him. He stood still in front of you, his back straight even if you didn’t fail to notice the frown on his forehead.

“How dare you to call my grandmother? To ask her something I specifically told you I don’t want to share or talk or even mention? What is s hard about it? What makes you rightful to come bashing into my life asking for answers? “Y/N”

“No, no Y/N, you doctor, should learn to put a line between when you’re an alienist and when you’re a decent human being” you were being extra hard on him, but just earring your grandmother worried voice was enough to make you snap his neck.

He took your rage like a champion, even if he clearly was suffering it.

“Why is so important Laszlo? Why to see your mind at ease? It is just a man, somebody that doesn’t belong to my life, why you have to push it? Why you always have to push it?” “I just hoped..” “Hoped what? Hoped that a man that abandoned a pregnant woman while courting her was worth my time and thoughts? That I need to share my own life with somebody that wasn’t there? That never asked to meet me, or even see the woman he swore to every wind that he loved? That put my mother in the position of being considered a whore? How my grandma had to pretend I was hers to try give my mother a good shot at life?”

All those truths hit Laszlo like a bag of bricks, he was overwhelmed and saddened. Those situations were the ugliest in those times. Women always paying off the debts of the lust of men. The simple promise of a marriage just to gain something that could be tasted forever with a little more of wait. Just the human need to break a rule, just one, that revolutionary feeling that only losers at heart have. Because nobody makes a revolution over the expenses of a loved one.

“I had no idea” he concluded

“I hope you are satisfied now, your scientific mind has now all the puzzle pieces, now leave and let my family alone”

You could see his shoulders fall as you said that to him, his face paling in fear and sadness. He pressed his lips tight against each other, his jaw hurting as he didn’t know if at this point was really worth it to explain why he insisted so much. He ruined it, he tried to treat you with the white gloves and instead he hurt you even more.

“I apologise” he said staring at you, you letting him speak for the first time “I never meant to put you in such a position, I really just meant to be close to your family and I couldn’t see the fault in my own desires”

He admitted it but you didn’t wince, he crossed the line, he went too far and he needed to learn to respect the limits of others, not everyone needed to be under his care.

“I said you may leave”

He looked out of your window searching for words. Your anger was waving down as he looked so upset, and he should be.

“I am also a victim of our society in my own means, even if my behaviour is not excusable in any way, I stupidly fixated on the idea of doing things right with you and some things… Well, they teach us boys some things have to be asked to a father first”

You looked at him with a frown, you shook lightly your head as you didn’t understand his point and you were five seconds away from throwing him the vase with the latest flowers he sent you when you looked at him pul out a little velvet box from his inner pocket.

“The times are modern now, it was silly of me to try move past you like that” he leaned the box on your desk. He nodded at you respectfully leaving. You were left alone with that little box, you stared at it for a moment before moving closer to it.

You looked out of the window as you heard the gates closing and you watched Laszlo’s figure walk away.

Your eyes darted from his back to the box in front of you slowly opening it to find the ring of the dreams of any girl.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you

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elriell · 4 years ago

Text

Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds

There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.

I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it.

We are going to dive in to the following;

Lucien & Elain (their choices)

Lucien & Azriel (contrast)

Rejecting the Bond

New Bonds

Fate & THE POV

and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...

Lucien

Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it.

He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them.

That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.

It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.

We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.

I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.

There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can.

This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her.

The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain.

(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)

These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.

And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.

Elain

Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.

If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.

She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part.

[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.]

Rejecting the Bond

We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.

We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)

Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”.

There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.

Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.

I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision.

Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.

All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.

And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.

Lucien + Azriel & Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.

“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.

I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/

Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.

But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss.

It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.

I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.

And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.

Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.

First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?

Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction.

They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.

And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.

On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”

First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.

Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.

Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;

The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;

So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.

Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?

Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”

No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be.

I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.

ANYWAYS back on topic.

I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point.

I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.

There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha

One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.

Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.

And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!

(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)

#elriel #elriel mates #elain archeron #azriel #acosf spoilers #acosf #acotar #azriel x elain #elriel meta #myelriel #anti elucien #anti-elucien

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neon-junkie · 4 years ago

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Hey everyone,

This will be my final post addressing the fandom conflict that has quite frankly gotten out of hand. Although it’s very likely this post will be picked apart, no matter how well intended it is, I will no longer be addressing, interacting, or responding to any further accusations made against me. Of course, if people have questions from a genuine place of interest, I will be happy to clarify anything for you, either via DM’s or non-anon asks. I will not be answering anonymous asks on this, as I do not want anything else posted on this topic.

As a side note: For anyone tempted to wade into the debate, I sincerely ask you not to get involved. Do not make yourself a target, do not feel you need to ‘pick a side’, and please do not think you have an obligation to reason with either side. It seems to be well past the point of that, so please find people you get along with in this fandom and curate a space for yourself away from all this conflict.

Warning: This post will contain uncensored slurs, mentions of racism, paedophilia, transphobia, LGBTQ+ phobia, death threats, threats of violence, targeted harassment, and abusive language.

To start off, I want to apologise to everyone who has somehow gotten drawn into this mess by either defending me, following me, or interacting with my content. This whole situation with me began well over a year ago when I wrote a crack-smut fic featuring Javier/Micah, posted back in August 2019. A crack fic is defined as “a work of fan fiction that is absurd, surprising or ridiculous, often intentionally.” It was inspired by a camp interaction between Micah and Javier, and like many other fanfiction writers, I decided to write smut about it. The fic was titled ‘Dirty Fucking Greaser’, and if that shocks you, I’m sure you can imagine how shocked I was to be informed afterwards that ‘Greaser’ was in fact a very serious 19th century slur for a Mexican individual. My first encounter with this word as insult was via RDR2, where it was used like a very casual insult. My only prior knowledge of this term was in regards to the greasers youth subculture, so the severity was lost on me. This obviously does not excuse my ignorance, and I should have researched the term better, but this is just again to apologize for that oversight, the insensitivity, and to highlight that my use of this term was not meant maliciously. Following this being pointed out, I proceeded to make 3 separate apology posts [Unfortunately I can only find the third one: HERE], renamed the fic, and added slur warnings in both the tags and the fic description. When I continued to receive complaints and increasingly aggressive abuse (which included being told my apologies weren’t good enough and I should delete my account and even kill myself), I attempted to delete the fic and mistakenly abandoned it instead. I contacted AO3 to see if it could be removed, but they said there was nothing they could do. I contacted their DMCA takedown team, who also said they couldn't remove it. Please note that all this happened 7-8 months ago, and has been dragged on for almost a year.

So, from this one unfortunate incident, I’ve been branded a racist, and someone who attacks POC, when all I have done is tried to defend myself and correct my past mistakes. I could have done this more gracefully in the past, but frankly when you’re suddenly the target of unrelenting callout posts and nasty anons, it’s very hard to be open to criticism of this sort, but this is what I’m trying to move past.

Over the course of the year, this one mistake has spiralled, and the crusade against me has somehow coincided with moral conflicts over certain characters and ships. This has devolved into dehumanizing abuse, witch hunts, death threats, doxxing, anon hate, and much more unpleasant behaviour.

I have been in fandom for a very long time, and at the heart of all fandom circles is the fear of censorship and subsequent purges, so the ‘ship and let ship’ mentality was more or less the pinnacle of fandom philosophy. And yes, this can be problematic in some contexts. People have their right to be uncomfortable with content, have a right to be offended by content, but that is not content meant for you. This argument has devolved into ‘what material is morally right to engage with’ and that is a mentality in which fandom will not survive, because for every person who is telling me I’m an awful person for writing about Micah, there are three other people telling me how much they appreciate me making that content. For every fic in which I characterize Javier and Flaco a certain way, some people are made uncomfortable by it and others tell me they enjoy it. And this isn’t just white people, but POC too, which makes it very difficult to know whether I am genuinely in the right or the wrong, especially when it comes to the concept of ‘fetishization’ which I have been made aware I need to educate myself on. I intend to do so, but I disagree with the common accusation that finding non-white men romantically and sexually attractive is inherently fetishistic and makes me racist. It’s pushing a catch-22; don’t find POC sexually attractive? Racist. Find POC sexually attractive? Racist.

I am always willing to be (politely) approached about anything my readers may be concerned about, but if it’s something I’ve specifically tagged for (such as themes, scenarios, etc.) I’m afraid you consented to reading it and with that I cannot help you. You are just as responsible for curating your space and what you see/read just as much as I am responsible for tagging it appropriately.

On the topic of racism, I want to bring up my prior use of ‘white racism’ which has obviously been a point of contention among both white and people of colour. The (literal) black vs white concept of racism is incredibly American-centric, and as someone from Europe, which has a history of oppression against white cultures and those of people of colour, it feels inaccurate. However, this has recently been discussed with me and I came to the realization that while growing up, especially in the UK, ‘xenophobia’ and ‘racism’ were marketed as one and the same. So, with this little revelation in mind, I will no longer be using ‘white racism’ (Or ‘reverse racism’) to identify the abuse I have been receiving, but will instead call it by what it really is; dehumanizing, debasing, xenophobic, puritanical.

Very briefly, I will also touch on the NewAustin situation, which has also been dredged into this. I did not ‘chase a POC from tumblr’. NA was a minor who for some reason was on my 18+ blog and took issue with me, likely from the ongoing discourse regarding my fic and initial mistake, as well as my interest in Micah. They were subsequently harassed into deleting their account by anonymous hate following various conflicts with other users for their support of me or their ships in general. I have never encouraged my followers to target anyone, and have always asked to be blocked and blacklisted by those who do not like me or my content. When NewAustin messaged me following the deletion of their blog, I was admittedly indifferent to the point of being unkind, and accused them of sending the hate themselves. This was based on the anon hate being racially-driven without there being any prior knowledge or publication that NA was a person of colour. This aside, I should have at the time, whether I believed it was my followers or not, condemned this behaviour. Regardless of the issues I’ve had with these people, it is never ever ok to send hate to anyone, no matter the motivation behind it, and that should have been stated at the time.

All I can do at this point is acknowledged and apologize for my past mistakes, and try to improve myself going forward.

It is not my place to dictate the morals of the character/ship-aspect of this argument, and I am not interested in waging a war of opinion. This post is simply to clarify how I am involved in this, and why I am so viscerally targeted. You can draw your own conclusions, but I am no longer interested in this endless back and forth.

To my mutuals/followers, I stand by my request to not interact and to block and move on, as this is what I’ll be doing too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope it makes things from my perspective a little clearer.

-RAT <3

EDIT: Just after this post was made, the fic in question was finally removed. I had to go through a DMCA take down, which can take months, since I originally abandoned the fic, thinking that meant delete. I explain this in more detail above. Said fic is gone, and has been gone since this post has been around.

#the tea #apology #long post

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 4 years ago

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taking back what’s been taken for granted

a short fic based on @littlx-songbxrd’s asks on @anarmorofwords’ blog

cw: mentions of period-typical homophobia and racism, bullying, and alcoholism

"So... You're... You prefer men?" Matthew asked slowly.

Alastair blinked. "Yes, that was what I was referring to."

He scoffed. "Oh, right, next you're going to tell me you have a deep appreciation of the fine arts and like to visit art galleries in your spare time," he said sarcastically.

Alastair's eyes were defensive for a moment before resigning. "Don't be silly. I've also been known to enjoy a quaint film or two."

He hesitantly gave a glance around the room. Matthew appeared mutinous, Thomas a bit concerned about potential escalation of the interaction, and James simply confused, while Cordelia bit back a grin and Christopher seemed slightly amused.

“I don’t understand. You’ve only ever been critical of me,” Matthew protested.

“Critical of you, not your romantic or sexual preferences.”

“What about all of those times you made some sly remark about ‘the company I keep,’ then?” he countered.

“Yes, he’s said similar things about Anna,” Christopher offered.

Alastair seemed almost confused for a moment. “You thought- Yes, the company you keep in all sorts of bars and clubs and whatever other dark alleyways you prefer to spend your nights in. Obviously, my sister has always been free to make her own decisions on where to go and with whom, but surely you could understand my concern.” Looking at the lot of them now, it was clear to Alastair that none of them had ever considered before that he would have concerns about Cordelia’s safety in such places because of his history with their father.

“Fine,” Matthew said begrudgingly. “But what about all of those things you said back at school? About Oscar Wilde and plays and the arts? Did you suddenly change your mind about such things?”

Alastair could feel himself growing annoyed. And, if he was being honest, he could still feel his heart beating slightly faster in the echo of what he’d just admitted. Revealing his romantic interests was one thing, but he still did not feel comfortable speaking about his father so freely, even in implications, even with the knowledge that everyone already knew. “I’ve always appreciated the arts, Matthew. I simply pretended I did not in order to fit in.”

Matthew was flustered for a moment before finally saying, “Well, that’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it?”

Alastair straightened his posture. “Excuse me?”

“I simply find it amusing that you would so easily conform to the interests of others. Why, to avoid a bit of bullying? Like what you did to us?” Alastair could feel himself flinch, but Matthew continued. “It’s a shame you were so spineless, perhaps in another life we could have been friends.”

“You think that you’re better than me? Because you run around with your green carnation swooning over Oscar Wilde and I don’t?”

“Apologies, I should have realized someone like you would need it more spelled out. That is exactly what I was implying.”

“My bad, I knew you were oblivious, but I should have realized you had such a complete lack of self-awareness. You do realize not all of us are the Consul’s son, correct?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “What? You think that protects me? You think I don’t know the way folks look at me and whisper? The cruel things they’re prone to saying about people like me - people like us?”

Alastair gaped at him for a moment. “It does protect you, Matthew. Do you truly think any of us would have gotten away with a fraction of the things you did at school? When I first arrived at the Academy, they didn’t just call me silly names and spread rumors about my family. I am deeply sorry for the things I’ve said and done and the ways that I’ve hurt you, all of you, but I will not apologize for conforming in order to protect myself. You are not better or stronger than me because no one ever beat the daylights out of you for having eccentric interests and opinions.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

The whole of the group seemed to be in some state of confusion or shock, though he knew Thomas must only be surprised that he was admitting all of this now. “What? Do you not think being the Persian boy with a drunk for a father was enough to make me a target?”

“I never heard anyone say anything about you, or towards you-”

“I made sure that they didn’t. I’m sorry that you were hurt in the process. There are things I’ve done that I will never forgive myself for, nor are any of you obligated to forgive me, either. But I’m tired of standing by while you all act like you’re better than me when not one of you has ever stood in my shoes. I didn’t have a safe home to go back to. My father never ran to my side any of the times I wound up in the infirmary. I did what I thought I needed to in order to survive.”

A long, unsettling silence fell around them. He could see them trying to process what he’d told them, trying to understand what it meant to be that young, 13, 14, no one to defend you. Nowhere to go for help. They’d never truly understand, though, and they were better off for it. “Does that make sense, Matthew?” Alastair asked finally.

“I… I suppose it does.”

Alastair sighed. The group would continue to stare at each other in silence if he let them. “Well, anyways, as I was saying, I like men.” To his relief, the others did seem to relax a bit. “Actually, as Thomas and I were both trying to say-”

“We’re seeing each other!” Thomas said confidently. He was flushed, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of their relationship or the tears that he saw in his eyes a few moments earlier. “Any protests should be directed to me.”

As bizarre as the entire ordeal was, the rest of them eagerly accepted the change in subject. He knew there would be questions later, in private, asking if he was alright and why he kept so much hidden, but he was grateful for the shift in attention, too. There were no protests to their relationship, either, much to his relief, though he was sure it had more to do with his confessions than a genuine belief that he would be a good partner to Thomas. Oddly enough, he was okay with that. If they needed proof, he would show them. After all, out of all the things he’d done searching for his place in the world, he was fairly certain that there was nothing that came more naturally to him than loving Thomas.

i hope this starts to make up for my recent angst lol taglist (lmk to be added/removed or if you only want to be tagged in certain fics): @stxr-thxif @satanisanauthor @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #tlh #the last hours #fanfiction #fanfic

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years ago

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

-----------------------------

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth

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tired-fandom-ndn · 3 years ago

Note

Hey there! I was wondering what you feel is the best strategy for dealing with negative comments on fics. Someone left a comment on a fic of mine calling my tags “basically giant red flags”, and I’m kind of at a loss at how to respond. I personally think this comment could be construed a few different ways.

1) I don’t want to immediately write the comment off as “just anon hate” in case they were potentially triggered by something that wasn’t tagged. I always do my best to tag as thoroughly as I can, but it’s possible something slipped by, in which case I would like to remedy the situation if I can. (For the record, I have a sinking feeling this ISN’T the issue.)

2) Anon is upset about the tags because that content is mentioned/depicted in my story and they think depiction = endorsement, in which case I… really don’t wanna waste my time debating an a*ti in the comment section of one of my stories and want to just ignore it (delete it???)

3) I basically said in the tags I want the main character of the fic to at least be morally gray in the show itself, and they think that makes me an ab*se apologist/I condone everything she says and does (it’s Stella from HB). And in that case, I feel like it’s more of a dig at me and who I am as a person, and maybe I should defend myself because liking a character who is a shitty person— even by the standards of that universe— doesn’t mean I agree with all or even any of their actions??? But again, like, I’m not itching for a fight, and I’m leaning toward just leaving it be. Not deleting it, but not acknowledging it, either.

I don’t know. It’s weird because this person also said that the fic wasn’t half bad so???? I’ve never actually received this sort of comment before, so I’m a bit at a loss as to how to best go about this. I would definitely appreciate your insight into this. Thank you in advance 💖

If it's stressing you out so much or just generally making you uncomfortable, I recommend deleting it. You aren't obligated to respond to every comment and you shouldn't have to deal with someone making you anxious on your own fic.

If you don't want to delete it outright, you can ask for clarification on what the commenter meant but remember that you never have to get into discourse about this. You don't have to defend yourself, especially not to strangers online. If this comment is upsetting you, just delete it! Erase it from existence and push it out of your mind! Be proud of the fic you wrote and don't let some random stranger make you feel bad when they don't even care enough to be open about their problem.

(If you do respond and ask for clarification though, do NOT offer up any of these suggestions. Don't ask if they meant x, just let them explain it themself. In my experience, a lot of antis and other people who leave shitty and vague comments on fics are deliberately vague because they want the author to worry about EVERYTHING and give them something specific to attack. Don't give them anything. If they're sincere about their comment, they'll be able to tell you what their issue is without you giving them something first.)

#they're essentially hoping that if they give you enough rope then you'll hang yourself without them doing any work #it's a tactic very similar to sealioning tbh #anonymous

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everybodyelsesgirl · 3 years ago

Photo

#atotsweek2021

day seven: we will never be apart, indefinitely

since I hadn’t been able to take part in the other days this week, I’m going to make this a sort of all-in-one post with some of the things I've wanted to say about the show and what it’s meant to me, personally, so if you want to read that then click the read more I guess?!

what does the show (and the fandom) mean to you?

one of the main reasons that I started watching the show when I did was because of the gifsets here on tumblr (in particular, it was all the sets of the “what did you have for dinner” scene that finally tipped me over the edge, both literally and figuratively lol) and the overall discussion around the show and it’s approach to a genre which tends to be pretty rife with toxicity a lot of the time. I’d been feeling pretty frustrated (and probably slightly traumatised) by some of the shows that I’d been watching up until then, but I really wanted to give atots a chance after I’d seen people talking about it here.

so, of course, when I started watching I tried to go into it with relatively low expectations; I was looking for a distraction, something relatively harmless to occupy myself with for an hour or two every week. and whilst the show wasn’t perfect, it managed to capture so many aspects of life that I have been personally struggling to reconcile: chronic illness and how it can destroy your sense of self; the loneliness of self-isolation as a means of protecting yourself from being hurt by others; feeling like you’re living someone else’s life or living your life out of obligation to other people, and the struggle to understand how and where you fit into the world when you try to break out of that cycle; and, of course, a relationship between two people built on mutual trust that allowed for both of them to learn from each other and grow together as individuals in their own right.

the way the show handled these themes with genuine care and sensitivity had a deep emotional impact on me that I absolutely did not expect and so, once it came to an end, all I wanted to do was talk more about it. and I felt so fortunate that there were other people here who had connected with these things and wanted to talk about them too. honestly, being able to talk about the show with people here has helped me to process some of my own trauma and guilt in a way that I genuinely never thought I’d be able to. I see so much of myself in both phupha and tian’s characters, so seeing how people here empathised with their choices and motivations (as well as the people that didn’t) has honestly helped me to empathise with myself more. I don’t think any other show has had such an effect on me like atots has and, really, I owe a lot of that to the community here on tumblr for persuading me to decide to watch it in the first place.

name some of your favourite blogs/fandom creators?

I’m going to be somewhat biased towards @systoles-lfc here purely for the masterpiece of hyperfixation which is the chronological list of phutian moments that I have been using as a resource for memes like the heathen that I am (also your fic is honestly so beautiful and perfect, I feel like I haven’t raved about it enough and I am sorry for that 😔😔).

but I also want to mention @ataleofthousandstars and @phapundao and @taleofstars and @billkinsdancing for all the amazing edits and gifsets and other great content, and also big thanks to @eyepietime for always validating my ridiculous tag-essays lol 💖💖💖

I know I’ve definitely missed lots of people, but I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for making such amazing content; it has honestly helped keep me sane since the show ended and I was left with an incredibly painful atots-shaped hole in my life.

anyway, here’s to many more #atotsweek’s to come and the definitely inevitable season two that we’re all just patiently waiting to be announced any day now! 🤡🤡

#atots #1000 stars #atotsweek2021 #this is about as emotionally available as i'm gonna get because tomorrow i'm posting memes!#god this is such a ramble i'm sorry if any of you actually manage to read it all #but this atotsweek thing has been really cool and you're all stars (ha) for having organised it <3<3<3 #personal

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samanthadalton · 4 years ago

Text

Gift and a curse part 1

pairings: Bianca x f! mc (Charlie)

A lot of you actually wanted this fic which makes me so happy because Bianca deserves all the love.

(also just wanted to add that when i played the game i romanced mackenzie but for this fic and for the story to make sense i’m romancing adam)

context: rewrite of chapter 12, where Bianca admits her feelings for mc and I give their relationship a bit more depth

reader discretion is advised as there’s mentions of slight internalised homophobia and abuse

taglist: @cloud9in @jaxsmutsuo @penda-bear @alleycat97 @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @crazzyplays @avalawrencefl @itszdavenport @annamaries-things @rory2107 @gamechoices-player @oxjenayxo @suoirallesalta @boopbapbeepbop @queensayeed @fantasy-of-fiction @baronyvampire @vampiregod325 @waterinathermostat @sanguetripasebolodechocolate (i added people who replied, reblogged and liked my post asking about the fic, some people weren’t showing up on the tag im sorry :((( but if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊)

word count: 3.4k

After spending the night making up with Adam, Charlie stands on her front porch, savoring the feel of the sun on her skin, reveling in the wave of content that is washing all over her. She’s broken out of her reverie when a familiar voice calls out to her and a small smile creeps up on her lips.

“Beautiful day right?” Bianca walks down the pathway, her neck craned upwards gazing up at the sky.

Charlie hums in response, “even more now that you’re here.” She catches Bianca freeze for a split second before plastering a bright smile as she walks up the steps to stand next to her. “So what brings you over here?” Charlie takes a small sip from her glass of iced tea before settling it down on the small table next to her, looking over at the model expectedly.

“Just wanted to check up on you after yesterday, it was kinda intense. How did it go with Adam?”

“We had a long talk last night and I finally feel like we’re on the same page again. We managed to put the whole elopement thing behind us.” Charlie waves her hand, dismissing her original predicament, “again thank you for your advice on the roof, it helped me get my head straight.”

When Charlie glances over at Bianca, there seems to be a shift in her energy, her usual peppy self is replaced with an unfamiliar expression on her face, one filled with anguish. “That’s…great. I’m glad to hear it.”

Charlie lets out a small laugh, “yeah that sounded really convincing.” She squints her eyes, assessing the model. Bianca looks like a deer in headlights, as she watches Charlie’s gaze roam up and down her body, before the AME contestant flashes a teasing smile. “Oooohhhhh. I see what’s going on here.” Charlie says tauntingly.

Bianca splutters, “oh- you, you do?” A blush creeps up to her cheeks as she shifts awkwardly, unable to meet Charlie’s gaze.

“I think someone has a little crush.” Charlie jests taking a small step forward. “You were hoping Adam and I don’t make up because you want Adam all to yourself.”

“Charlie..” Bianca trails off as the girl teasingly pokes at her side, all colour drained from her face.

“That ‘honey’” Charlie raises her fingers in air quotes, “of yours that you were being all secretive about, you were talking about him right?”

“You don’t get it. Adam isn’t the one I like.” Bianca blurts out as she snaps her gaze up to the brunette, her eyes staring longingly. Realisation begins to dawn on Charlie as she comprehends Bianca’s revelation and all sense of amusement is wiped from her face.

“I- what?” Charlie begins blinking rapidly, stunned into submission.

“It’s you I have feelings for.” Bianca looks at the girl with sadness in her eyes as the silence looms between the two of them. Worry seems to take over Charlie, as her eyes roam the space in front of them, she knows Bianca would never intentionally sabotage her but being on AME means there are prying eyes everywhere and the last thing she needs is for Vince to have some leverage over her. She grabs Bianca’s hand and pulls her into the house, closing the front door behind them.

“I don’t know what to say.” Simultaneously the girls’ gaze drift down to their intertwined hands and Charlie carefully tears her hand out of Bianca’s before running a distressed hand over her face. “How long have you felt this way, I mean I didn’t even know you liked girls like that.”

Bianca visibly tenses, a grimace appearing on her face, “it’s been on and off season 1 and 2 of AME. I thought I could suppress my feelings but after our kiss in Vegas it’s only been getting stronger.” Bianca sighs heavily, slumping her shoulders tiredly as makes her way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Charlie follows close behind and sits next to her, while keeping a safe distance between herself and the model. “And I’ve always been attracted to girls but,” she sinks further into the couch, her entire demeanour crestfallen. “Being a lesbian model in an industry as cutthroat as the model one isn’t easy. A lot of people just assume that it’s easy and that I’m this carefree or this egotistical person and-” she trails off unable to finish her sentence.

“Hey,” Charlie shifts in her seat, edging closer to Biance, wrapping her in a hug, “you don’t have to explain anything I get it.” She soothing rubs her back, as Bianca settles her face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling lulled by the sense of security it brings her. “I just, I-, Bianca I’m getting married in a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” Bianca pulls herself out of Charlie’s arms, wiping away the few tears on her face. “I’m sorry to put you in this position Charlie but I just know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t say anything.” She sits up a little straighter, conviction beginning to settle in her. “Charlie if you don’t feel the same, tell me right now and I’ll walk away and we can pretend that this didn’t happen, and I’ll make peace with the fact that you choose Adam.”

Charlie gawks at Bianca, perplexed, the silence from the AME contestant an indication that the feelings may be returned. The model takes her chances and takes Charlie’s hand in hers, her thumb circling the brunette’s knuckles. “Or.. we can acknowledge that you feel something for me, whether it’s a tiny spark or whatever, you feel something for me and we do something about it.”

Charlie pulls her hand out of Bianca’s and exasperatingly huffs, “what are you talking about?”

“Come on Charlie, it’s just us here,” Bianca gestures to the empty room, “I know you picked up on my indirect flirting,” although her tone is teasing, her eyes tell a different story. Charlie feels herself almost losing herself in the intensity of Bianca’s hazel eyes but her mind drifts to Adam and she tears her gaze away from her.

“Maybe, but Bianca this is crazy, I don’t even know what I feel.”

“Then go on a date with me.”

“What? Oh my god.” Charlie looks at Bianca, shocked while Bianca’s expression is full of determination.

“We’ve never been on a solo date so go on one with me, tomorrow.”

“I-, what about Adam?”

“What about him? Charlie this is about you and your feelings, and I know they exist because you haven’t denied it.” Charlie laughs, shaking her head slightly, the AME contestant is a lot of things but a liar isn’t one of them, at least not when it comes to real life. “Don’t you wanna explore this and see where it goes? Who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

Charlie knows she should say no, her and Adam are finally in a good place but a tiny part of her knows Bianca is right and she can feel the butterflies in her stomach as the model watches her. “Okay.”

……

The next day after the challenge, Bianca drags Charlie away from the rest of the group and takes her to the rooftop of the AME mansion. Awaiting for the pair is a blanket carefully laid out on the floor, surrounded by pillows and a big picnic basket sitting in the middle.

Stunned, Charlie turns to Bianca, admiration in her eyes, “Bianca you did all of this for me?”

Bianca flashes one of her dazzling smiles before settling on the blanket and patting the seat next to her, “of course I did babe. Now come and sit.” Charlie moves to sit opposite the model, she cranes her neck upwards to catch the faint light of the sun shining through the sky behind the clouds.

“How did you even get all of this up here?”

“I told the production team that the bride demanded a mini picnic and that they should oblige with her requests or face her wrath.”

“My wrath? You make me sound like some sort of villain.”

“You? A villain? Never. Now lets see what they have in here.” Bianca scrambles through the picnic basket and pulls out a bottle of champagne and a platter of mini sandwiches.

“Wow, this looks really good.” Charlie picks up a sandwich, and all but moans when she takes a bite, “oh my god this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Let me taste,” Bianca leans forward and opens her mouth a little and Charlie places the rest of her sandwich in the model’s mouth, her fingers slightly brushing over her lips as she does. They both feel a jolt of electricity, but Charlie quickly retracts her hand, and anxiously settles it by her side.

“So.”

The girls awkwardly trail off looking off into the distance before the sounds of Bianca pouring the champagne breaks the silence.

“Look babe, I don’t want this to be awkward. I mean we’re best friends, there’s no reason why we can’t use this time to get to know each other better.” She offers Charlie one of the flutes of champagne, which is gratefully accepts.

“You’re right, so where do we start?” The girls clink their glasses together and the conversation begins to flow smoothly.

Bianca talks about her past, how her family grew up poor and how she turned to modelling so she could financially support her parents. Charlie laughs along as Bianca tells her the story of her first gig and how she lied about her age so she could legally be there and how her mother wasn’t happy with Bianca taking up modelling at first, but couldn’t be prouder once she began making it in the big leagues. Bianca also tells Charlie about the issues surrounding her sexuality, how she has to hide who she is because she doesn’t want to be blacklisted or seen as an outcast just because she loves women, because models tend to be very judgmental. Charlie intently listens, part of her gratified that Bianca is sharing this part of her life with her, because it’s definitely not easy for her too.

When Bianca bares her soul in front of Charlie, Charlie only finds it fitting to bare hers too. She goes deep about her life, things that she hasn’t even told Adam about because she’s worried about what he might think or say. But there’s something enticing about Bianca that simply makes it easy for her to tell her anything. And so Charlie tells Bianca about her abusive father, how he made her and her mother’s life hell for years until her mother had the courage to leave him and since then they haven’t looked back. She talks about how she went to school for a degree in economics but couldn't really find a secure job once she left college so she had to work in a small bookstore so she could make a living.

The conversation wasn’t all doom and gloom, the two reminisced about past relationships and embarrassing moments, their hopes and dreams, practically every topic under the sun. However, there was one subject that didn’t come up and that was AME. No words were spoken about production, Adam, the show itself, it’s like the girls completely forgot that world existed. After talking for hours, Charlie sighs and moves to stand, stretching her arms as she does.

“Hey where are you going?” Bianca playfully asks, throwing a grape at the girl’s leg.

“I just need to stretch my legs a little, god knows how long we’ve been sitting like this.”

Charlie moves towards the edge of the rooftop looking over the building, her gaze wistful as her mind wonders. Bianca joins her, her arms resting on the wall.

“What’s on your mind?”

Charlie doesn’t tear her gaze from her sky, her voice is low and soft as she speaks, “everything.” She turns her head and lifts it to gaze at Bianca, “have you noticed how we haven’t spoken about Adam at all tonight.”

“Yeah I have. But you can tell me whatever’s on your mind. We’re friends before anything else.”

Charlie laughs derisively, “no offence but I think you’ll be kinda biased.”

Biance lets out a small airy laugh, “I promise to be as objective as I can.”

Charlie sighs before looking out at the entrance of the mansion, the glow of the lights illuminating the pathway, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. “Tonight has been.. nice.”

“Just nice?” Bianca teasingly raises an eyebrow which Charlie catches in her peripheral vision.

“I mean it wasn’t what I was expecting. Some of the stuff I’ve told you, I’ve-, I’ve never told anyone before, not even Adam.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I thought tonight would give me some clarity, but I’m just more confused than ever.”

“And why’s that?” Bianca hums.

“Because.. I think I’m falling for you and I don’t know what that means for Adam and I because I still love him too.”

Hope glimmers in Bianca’s eyes when Charlie looks up at her, fear creeping into her own eyes.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” Charlie softly says.

“I think that you do love Adam but,” Bianca has a pensive look on her face for a few seconds before it slowly shifts into resolve as it settles into her features. “But, I don’t think you’re in love with him. At least not anymore. I think you’re afraid of upsetting anyone or hurting anyone’s feelings so you’re forcing yourself to go ahead with this wedding when it’s not what you want.”

Silence stretches between the two as Charlie mulls over Bianca’s words, her brows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Charlie?” Charlie hums non-committedly, still lost in thought. “Charlie.” Bianca says a bit more sternly, which gets Charlie’s attention jerking her out of her thoughts. “Look babe, I think you’ve done so much for this show, I mean you’re having a wedding on national tv just to please the fans. I think you need to start doing things for yourself, be a little selfish.”

The air between them crackles with intensity as the two look at each other, desire slowly beginning to flood in their system. Charlie deftly looks at Bianca’s lips before looking back up at her eyes, uncertainty looming before her eyes but she takes the plunge leaning forward capturing Bianca’s lips in a sweet kiss. Bianca moans a little as she deepens the kiss, her tongue tangling with Charlie’s as her hand moves to grip at the brunette’s waist. A familiar voice booms out behind them, and Charlie suddenly jerks back, horror plastered all over her face.

“Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie hovers by the entrance of the rooftop, nostrils flaring in anger, as her eyes dart between Charlie and Biance.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Mackenzie it’s not what you think I-” Mackenzie raises her hand, and the words die out in Charlie’s mouth, as tears threaten to fall. Bianca, too stunned to move, stands awkwardly, her mouth hanging open but not daring to speak.

“I think you need to leave,” Mackenzie’s glare snaps to Bianca, who solemnly nods in acceptance.

“I’ll catch you around,” Bianca squeaks out before shuffling towards the exit of the rooftop. She throws Charlie an apologetic look before leaving the two girls on their own.

“You have some explaining to do.” Mackenzie crosses over to Charlie, her arms crossed together, while she gives the girl a deathly glare. Charlie apprehensively wrings her fingers together, unable to meet Mackenzie’s gaze. “Why the hell are you kissing Bianca?”

A dam seems to break in Charlie, hot tears begin streaking down her face, as she begins to sob uncontrollably. Some of the anger in Mackenzie begins to dissipate as she tries to console her. “I don’t know what to do Mack.”

“Let’s sit down.” Mackenzie guides Charlie to one of the chairs before pulling one out for herself and sits on it facing the brunette. The tough girl awkwardly pats Charlie’s leg as Charlie’s breathing becomes frantic, her chest heaving heavily. “Hey it’s okay.” Mackenzie does an exercise to help Charlie control her breaths, telling the AME contestant to slowly inhale, hold and then to exhale. After a couple of tries, Charlie feels like she’s back in control and nods gratefully at the tough girl. “Charlie, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Charlie takes in a deep breath and proceeds to tell Mackenzie everything, from Bianca’s admission to her indecisiveness between the model and her fiance. Mackenzie nods her head along to the brunette’s admittance, a blank expression on her face.

“I don’t know what to do Mack, I’m torn.”

“Are you serious? You love Adam, you’re going to marry him in a couple of weeks.” Mackenzie looks down at the ring that sits on Charlie’s finger.

Charlie exasperatingly throws her hands in the air, “I know that! I’m not sure if that’s what I want anymore.”

Mackenzie sits back in her seat, contemplating, “I’m one of your best friends, and I made a promise to you that I would do whatever I could to make this the best wedding ever.” she runs a distressed hand through her hair, “are you sure about Bianca? I mean this could be a crush or-”

Charlie violently shakes her head, “no. It’s not a crush. It’s like-” Charlie gazes at Mackenzie, a euphoric look glistening in her eyes, “when you were younger did you ever want something so bad but you thought you couldn’t have it. And when you finally got it, it exceeded all of your expectations and made you happier than you thought was ever possible?” Mackenzie, purses her lips, her eyes lost in thought. A few moments later she nods. “That’s what it feels like with Bianca. I’ve always felt drawn to her, but I didn’t think she ever liked me like that, I didn’t think it was possible. But now it’s a possibility and I think that I can be happy with her. But the practical side of me thinks that I’m rushing into it. That I’m acting too rash or impulsive and that if I choose her I lose the stability I have with Adam and then I end up getting burned in the end because I’m rushing into something I barely know anything about.” Charlie shakes her head, “I’ve never felt so confused before.”

“You know I’m never one for the sentimental crap but I think deep down you know what you want, I think you’re just afraid of hurting someone you care about.”

Charlie laughs, “you know, Bianca said the exact same thing.”

Mackenzie smiles, “and here I thought she was just another dumbwitted model.” Charlie playful swats at Mackenzie who laughs. “For real, I think you need to have a deep conversation with yourself and weigh out all the pros and cons. But I feel like you already know the answer.”

Both of the girls fall into a silence as Charlie looks down at her ring, fiddling with it as she ponders. When she speaks, her voice is low and shaky.

“How do I tell him?” Charlie's voice cracks as her lips quiver, as she holds back another wave of tears.

“If he truly loves you he’ll understand. It might take him a while but he’ll get it, he’s a good guy. He only wants you to be happy.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Heh. I guess I’m just not one for indecisiveness, I usually know what I want and I go for it.”

“I envy you for that.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow together, a skeptical expression on her face. “Do you think I’m rushing into it with her?”

Mackenzie shakes her head, “no, I don’t. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I mean if I knew she’s a lesbian I would’ve put two and two together but, sometimes you just know who you want to be with. I mean, look at Adam’s parents. They knew each other for 3 months before they got married and they’ve been happily married ever since. You know what Adam’s dad told me his only regret was?”

Charlie shakes her head, “what was it?”

“His only regret was that he didn’t ask her to marry him sooner.” Charlie breaks out into a wide smile which Mackenzie returns. “Adam’s probably still awake, you should go and talk to him.”

Charlie nods with determination, letting out a huge breath, “you’re right, I shouldn’t delay it.”

#playchoices #america’s most eligible #AME #bianca x mc #bianca ame #bianca scandoval #hope you guys like it!!!

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greymattermaelstrom · 5 years ago

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What she said

This has been a difficult post to prepare. After much thought, I wish to share some very interesting information. Some know from my recent post, I went to Ozlander in Melbourne, Australia on March 14 & 15, 2020, and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Richard and Sophie. As a premium ticket holder, I enjoyed lunch with them on both days. They would individually spend 5 minutes or so at each table and rotate through the tables to meet the fans. At the event introduction on Day One, we were asked to respect Richard and Sophie by not asking questions of a personal nature, which naturally, everyone understood. Therefore, I wasn’t going to ask anything about Sam, Cait, or even Tony. So, I was more than surprised when Sophie briefly mentioned Cait’s wedding!

Sophie visited our table and we talked about a number of things. It was Sophie’s first trip to Australia; Caitriona had been here and had told Sophie how nice it was. Someone asked Sophie, 'You went to Caitriona’s wedding, didn’t you?'

'Yeah, Caitriona’s husband is a lovely guy.' (Did she just say that, I thought?)

I asked Sophie, 'You and Sam were the only cast members that went?'

And she replied, 'No, Tobias was there as well.' Interesting.

Sophie then added she took the photo of Sam in the Dunhill suit (remarkable weekend).

'The background had to be photoshopped as we couldn’t give away the location. It got onto social media and Caitriona wasn’t that pleased about it,' Sophie said a little ruefully. (Sam had posted the photo on IG. The right-side background looks very photoshopped.)

During a photo session on Day Two, I asked Sophie, 'Did Caitriona marry Tony?' with the emphasis on the word Tony.

'Yeah,' she said with a smile.

'Really?' I asked.

'Yes. Really,' Sophie said.

Then I said, 'Well she doesn’t say his name and hasn’t released any photos so...'

'I don’t know...,' Sophie said pleasantly enough. Wow!! Being so busy and so involved with OL for so long, I don’t think she fully appreciated how all the Tait secrecy is being perceived in the fandom.

Okay, a photo or some sort of evidence or it didn't happen. This info from Sophie was really unexpected. What sort of proof would be acceptable and not immediately suspected anyway? Nevertheless, I believe I have the evidence I need to satisfy myself. Someone else who was at the same Day One table, has confirmed to me in writing (I contacted her a week or so after the event) she heard Sophie say all this as well. I don’t think my acquaintance follows the ins and outs of the SC/Tait drama. I don’t think most of the people at Ozlander did from conversations I had and the general talk I heard. So, my witness doesn’t have a vested interest in The Narrative and, I believe, just gave a purely objective confirmation.

If I had heard Sophie say Cait married Sam, you would probably believe it, put this info in the receipt warehouse, and any evidence would be a bonus. I have been wanting truth no matter what it is. I’ll just deal with it. While it’s greatly disappointing, I do wish Cait and Sam happiness in life whomever they find it with.

I discovered OL 18 months ago and have only been active on Tumblr for 8 months. So, I am still a newb of sorts. Some might say a naïve babe in the woods with not much to lose. However, I’ve met some wonderful people on this side of the fence and I will probably lose friendships and reputation, be unfollowed and blocked, receive a lot of vitriol, be called a troll working for (fill in the blank), etc., due to this heresy. So, my info does come at a price for me. I understand I have not experienced years of surviving on this side of the fence, enduring the delusional tag and the attacks and insults from antis, NST, TPTB, Shamuso, and even some from Sam and Cait, and being thrown under the bus when convenient. I get, in principle, some shippers will close ranks and support any higher-profile shippers who don’t believe me. I anticipate this will be the response. One way to discredit information is to discredit the person presenting it, and I assume this tactic will be employed as well.

So why am I putting my head on the chopping block? Notoriety? Hardly. Well, as I said, I want intel even if it conflicts with what I hope for. I believe people can ship the way they want (within reason) and as KDS infamously said, believe what you want. I don’t wish to convince anybody, nor get into a slanging match with anyone. It would be pointless really. I feel obligated out of principle to reveal the info and not hide it no matter how controversial and inconvenient that might be. I understand some may not think it a good time in the fandom right now to deal with this but I didn’t want the info dating too much before putting it on the table. I understand and I am sorry. But is there an optimal time to hear this?

People like I, who want to know what is going on or had suspicions, and are prepared to accept this information, will welcome it. They have had enough of the mess that is happening right now in The Narrative as well. Also, I don't wish to be intimidated into keeping contrary evidence hidden just because it doesn’t suit the manifesto. And I apologise in advance to high-profile shippers who will probably be inundated with comments and asks. I accept there will be jealousy involved. Why did a newb get this intel? Believe me, I wish it didn’t happen to me; I really wish it was someone else. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

For the record, yes, I’m Australian living in Australia. I understand some people’s problem with that. Why does so much narrative controversy emanate from this place? I don’t know. I wish I knew. We often call it the lucky country (for various reasons). Do we appear have more luck than the Irish?!

However, and unfortunately, this does not provide closure for me. I accept the Tait wedding. I do have problems with the Tait marriage, sorry to say. I don’t know why games are being played. Cait still doesn’t call her husband Tony, there were no wedding or engagement photos made public, and no confirmation from her PR team when wedding articles hit the magazines. It seems like secrecy, not privacy. Why so secret? We continue to see gaslighting, innuendo, and an intentional vagueness, to keep us all engaged it seems?! And Hawaiigate is certainly a head scratcher at best.

So, in summing up, the four things I learnt about the wedding are:

1. The wedding happened.

2. Cait married Tony.

3. Tobias was there.

4. Sam posted Sophie’s remarkable Dunhill manipulated photo on IG and Cait wasn’t too happy about it.

Most shippers won’t like my saying Tait is real and most antis won’t like my saying Sam and Cait continue to play games. But that’s ok. I knew this going in. I just think it is important for the info to be put out there. I don’t wish to appear foolish, talking about a fake wedding, now that I know Cait married Tony. I think there must be other intel such as this out there. Perhaps the time is right for others to make their intel known.

I believe the four things Sophie said about the wedding. I do not have any further intel to share, nor do I have any further theories on what is happening with Sam, Cait, or Tony that haven’t been discussed on Tumblr already. With this in mind, I’m prepared to answer every constructive and civil comment I may receive on this post, including any DMs. If you wish, please look through my blog to see what I have posted. You will find it aligns with this side's thinking. You may see some names that do not. Please consider the message, not the messenger. And please, it would be appreciated if you would do some homework before making any comment. Thank you for your time in reading this long and very difficult post. I imagine, many will take some time to process it.

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milfjensenackles · 3 years ago

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to purgatory and back: chapter 4 (final chapter!!)

1.7k works | read it on ao3

Dean didn’t know what he felt. He felt numb. He couldn’t even bring himself to cry. Cas was gone. Again.

Dean pushed himself from the ground where he had very roughly landed only a few short minutes ago. When Cas pushed him away. When Cas left him.

Dean was roughly shaken from his racing thoughts by the soft vibrating that emanated from his forearm. Oh, shit. He’d almost forgotten about Benny.

Slicing a thin line down his arm, he released the essence that was his friend while speaking the final few lines of the incantation. Benny appeared before him again, with a telltale smirk on his face that told Dean he saw everything.

“Wanna talk about it?,” Benny said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Well, I am sorry that your friend didn’t make it. He was a good fighter and I know how much he meant to you.”

Dean scoffed. “You never liked him.”

“You wanna know the truth?” Benny asked, looking away from Dean, “I was jealous of him.”

“Jealous? You?”

Benny chuckled at Dean’s reaction. “You’re a special guy, Dean Winchester. Castiel is lucky to have you.”

Dean looked down, hiding the tears pricking at the corner of his eyes at the mention of Cas’ name. Benny reached out, pulling Dean into a hug. Dean understood what Benny was trying to tell him. Maybe in another life, it could have been himself and the vampire against the world. But for now… they had to go their separate ways.

Dean coughed, awkwardly breaking off the embrace. “Take care of yourself, Benny.”

“You too, Winchester.”

Benny tipped his hat to Dean and began his journey in the opposite direction. Dean could only stand and watch, unable to move.

It had been five weeks since Dean was forced to leave Cas behind. He finally met back up with Sam, which led to a tearful reunion and many long talks catching each other up on the past year. Dean left out the part where he fucked a literal vampire, for Sam’s sake.

Dean was doing okay. Waking up in a filthy motel bed is miles better than cold Purgatory dirt. He and Sam were working cases again, which allowed for some distraction from the ache in his chest whenever he thought of Cas.

He saw Cas everywhere. Hallucinations, or apparitions of some sort, haunting his every waking hour. He didn’t know if he was being fucked with or if his brain was truly this fucked up. The reminders of his lost friend were painful enough that Dean barely wanted to get out of bed in the morning. The only thing that kept him motivated was knowing that Cas would want him to move on.

Sam learned very soon after Dean’s reappearance that Cas was a sore subject. Dean was driving when Sam finally brought it up, trapped by his own car so that he could no longer avoid the discussion.

“What happened to Cas, Dean?”

Dean groaned. “I told you. He didn’t make it out of Purgatory.”

“Yeah, but why not? Why don’t we try to get him out?” Sam asked.

Dean slammed his palm into the steering wheel before shouting out, “Sam. Leave it.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender, turning to look out the window as they continued down the highway toward their next case.

When they finally reached the motel a painfully silent five hours later, Dean went straight to the bathroom, in part to avoid his brother but also providing him the first chance he’s had all day to brush his teeth. Indoor plumbing is something he would never take for granted again after his stint in Purgatory.

Dean leaned over the sink to splash some water in his face. He looked up and into the eyes of his own reflection but was startled when he noticed someone behind him.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He screwed his eyes shut. It’s not real. He’s not real. He opened them again. Cas was still there. Dean turned around slowly, jaw set with anticipation.

Cas was still there. Standing right in front of him.

Cas knit his eyebrows together, staring right through Dean as he tilted his head to the side. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean reached out to touch Cas, before quickly dropping his hand to his side again. “Cas? Is that really you?”

Cas stared at Dean’s fallen hand for a moment. “It’s me.”

Dean ran his hand through his hair. “I- What- I mean… how?”

“I do not know.”

Once Cas had a chance to shower and shave, he walked out of the bathroom with a flourish, showing off his clean clothing. Dean’s pants became uncomfortably tight at the sight, and he shifted in his seat in order to hide it from Cas.

After a moment of silence, Dean stood up and enveloped Cas in a hug, wrapping both arms around the angel’s broad shoulders. Cas froze, surprised by the sudden display of affection.

Dean pulled back after a moment, elated that Cas was finally home, before remembering that he was still pissed.

“Cas, why the fuck did you do that? Why the fuck did you kiss me and then ditch me for Purgatory? You could have died,” Dean said, his voice trembling with anger. “I wanted to die after I left you behind. Do you get that? I didn’t want to be on this Earth anymore if it meant you were gone.”

Sam looked between the two of them from his chair, recognizing that this was something he didn’t want to be around for. “I’m… gonna go get some dinner,” he said quickly, before letting himself out of the room.

Cas stood across from Dean, hands pressed into his thighs. The angel’s eyebrows shot up, shocked by Dean’s sudden outburst. “I did not realize my absence would impact you so severely, Dean. I apologize. If it is any consolation, I feel the same way,” Cas said, sympathy etched into his features.

Dean’s brain stuttered to a halt. Cas felt the same way? About Dean? “Cas…”

“I stayed in Purgatory because I felt like I had a debt to pay. I no longer felt like I deserved to be here, to be in your company. I wanted to prove that I have a purpose other than destruction and pain,” Cas said, sighing. “I understand now that while I have done terrible things, I can choose to do better from now on. I cannot change what I have done, but I can change the future.”

Cas looked into Dean’s eyes and firmly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know why I am so willing to accept that everything happens for a reason, but I am not willing to recognize that I am also here for a reason. I think my reason is you, Dean.”

Dean felt himself choke. “You-” He stuttered, “You can’t just say shit like that, Cas.”

“Why not, Dean? I have long denied myself the pleasure of telling you the truth. I no longer need to, so I plan to tell you how much you mean to me every single day, as long as I’m granted the privilege of being in your life,” Cas said, smiling like Dean himself was the one who created the entire universe. There’s something about an age-old creature that’s seen just about everything finding Dean the most fascinating individual he’s ever met. Dean felt his heart drop into his stomach at the idea.

Smiling softly, Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, both in discomfort as well as the need to stop himself from reaching out to touch Cas. They’ve cuddled, they’ve kissed, but Dean still doesn’t know where they stand.

“What are we, man?,” he blurted.

Cas arched an eyebrow. “Whatever you want us to be, Dean.”

Dean let out a shaky breath at that, leaning forward into Cas’ space. He reached out slowly, pressing both hands into Cas’ forearms, then his biceps, before making his way up to cup Cas’ face gently. Cas followed suit, surrounding Dean’s fingers with his own. Dean watched as Cas’ lips fell open, cataloguing every movement of the angel’s face. Last time, Dean was caught off guard. This time, he was going to remember every second.

Both of them moved at the same time, capturing each other’s lips in a sweet, soft kiss that lasted only a second before they pulled away, overwhelmed. Dean grinned, embarrassed, before pulling Cas back in. What started as a chaste kiss slowly became more urgent, with Dean sliding his tongue against Cas’ bottom lip and eliciting a loud groan from the angel. The noises Cas was making only served to make Dean go even more insane, if that was possible. He grabbed Cas by the hips, pushing him slowly until they hit the wall behind them. Dean paused for a moment before leaning into Cas, their bodies flush against one another. The back of Cas’ head hit the wall, and Dean took advantage of the opportunity to suck as many bruises as he could manage into the side of Castiel’s neck.

“Dean, Sam told me that you should not sleep with someone you are interested in until at least the third date. Maybe we should take this slowly,” Cas stated very seriously.

Dean snorted. “Screw slowly, dude. We’ve known each other how many years now? We’re far past slowly at this point.”

“Okay,” Cas said, smirking. He pushed Dean back, grabbing him by the hand, and walked backwards toward Dean’s bed. Cas pulled Dean on top of him, and Dean let him.

“Dean?”

Dean was still groggy, but he opened his eyes to find Sam staring at him sheepishly from foot of his bed. He looked over to the other side of his bed to see a person-shaped lump taking up a large chunk of space. He smiled, thinking back to the previous night, before rubbing his eyes and looking back to his brother.

“Sam? When did you get back?” Dean said.

“I got another room for the night. Thought it might be best for everyone.”

Dean grinned. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to enjoy the rest of the morning with my boyfriend.”

Cas stirred next to him, apparently disturbed by the conversation. His face peeked out from under the covers. “Good morning, Sam.”

“Morning, Cas,” Sam said, with the air of a man who was trying to be as normal as possible about his brother and his best friend sleeping together. “Well. I’ll leave you to it.”

Once Sam closed the door, Cas smiled at Dean. “I’m your boyfriend?”

“I mean, I… if you want, I don’t want to force anything on you, I wasn’t trying to-“

Cas pressed a finger to Dean’s lips. “Dean, I would be honored to be your boyfriend.”

“Oh, well. Good. I’m glad.” Dean leaned in to kiss Cas, and Cas happily obliged.

Tags: @professorerudite

#deancas fic #deancas #destiel fic #destiel #spn fic #lauren writes

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: abt 7k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison | full part drops at 8 pm EST

desc: from niccolò machiavelli to fernández de moratín, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, second semester seems well on its way to becoming your own personal inferno.

tags: tbd, but lmk if you want on the taglist

“THIS IS REALLY the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on your knee as she leaned toward you in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was genuinely excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyed were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an inquiring eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from his v-neck sweater to his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck.

"Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come over and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women.”

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rpbetter · 3 years ago

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Urgh. Okay, full disclosure, I haven't been on tumblr much over the last week or so, because I was one of the people that Raven initially called out after the COAR mess, and it was in the interest of my own mental health to fuck off for a while so I didn't stress myself out into oblivion. So I'm scrolling through most of this stuff for the first time, and talking to other people who were targeted. And pardon my French here, but I'm fucking disgusted at the lengths Raven has gone to assert themselves as a victim, how many people they've affected, and the waving around of something as serious as suicide for brownie points.

I have sympathy for people who overinterpret things in a strictly emotional and mental sense (actual reactions aside) because they lack the maturity. There's always a reason for that, and it's not their fault. And I have sympathy for people if they legitimately feel suicidal. That, too, isn't their fault. If I hadn't been blocked, I would've reported Raven in case their claims were true as well, because yeah, I don't mess around with that stuff either. But what's unacceptable is how Raven acted on those sentiments and behaved towards others, even after people tried to provide perspective. How Raven claimed to be done with the drama, but continued inciting it; how they claimed to be suicidal and had left tumblr, but wrote what amounts to a "fuck you" in their header and were still putzing around on their blog, and were apparently still editing their posts until as late as today; how they claimed to have deleted but only changed the url; how they weaponized all of this stuff and used it as a tool for guilt-tripping. Like, come on. It's okay if you're down in the dumps, but it's not okay to treat innocent people like garbage, and carpet bomb half the RPC. To me, it really feels like there was an intent to weaponize all of their hurt, offense, anger, and suicidal ideations, despite the possibility it did come from somewhere genuine, and that's so harmful to anyone who is actually struggling with depression.

Every time someone weaponizes mental illness in this way, it just makes people more and more apathetic the next time someone is genuinely just hurting, and saying they feel like they're at the end of their rope. And it makes people suspicious of whether those words are being used maliciously, or legitimately. That suspicion and that association is now there, unconscious or not. And every time this kind of stuff happens, the association gets stronger. What happens if Raven does this again? Some people will still report, but some people might just scoff and walk away - people who might've actually acted before. So in a way, that kind of behaviour impacts Raven as much as it impacts other people.

And you know what? They're not the only one dealing with serious shit. I've been suffering from MDD for the last fifteen years, and I've been in the process of changing medications and having little success for months. I've been going through hell offline. I have a shit list of people I want to yell at because they're dragging their feet on really important things I need to function; I'm constantly running a deficit on spoons. Until a week or so ago, roleplay was one of the only ways I could unwind. So for Raven to bully me by sticking that stupid post in my tags, because they needed to make a scene on COAR, which I was obviously going to comment on (like many other people), then to "like" an unsubstantiated callout about me and other innocent people related to that mess, it's only worsened my own mental health. It sounds melodramatic, but really. Someone else mentioned this too, but the fear of being in another callout, and the fear of that first callout somehow exploding, was in the back of my mind all week, despite being away from tumblr. So that was a little anxiety-inducing, much as I tried not to think about it.

And I'm debating whether to return now, or take more time off, and I have no idea what to do. Because that callout post is still in my blog's tag. I'm freaking out because I was planning on approaching some people to roleplay, which is something I rarely ever do, but now I'm concerned that I'll contact someone, they'll look at my tag to get an idea of my writing/partners/who I am, and see the callout post, and immediately dismiss me because even seeing the word "callout" on its own will send up red flags, by unconscious association with more impactful drama. And as long as that callout is up, these fears are going to be there.

That's just not fair.

And Raven's "apology" is completely unacceptable. Like you and others said, it doesn't reach anyone who needs to hear it, because they've all been blocked. I would fucking love an apology if it came from a place of honesty, but am I going to receive one? Probably not. And even for the followers who can still see that apology, it doesn't address anything. It isn't directed to anyone in particular. It doesn't mention the specific behaviours that were wrong on their part. And miss me with the "my intentions were good" part. No, they weren't; going around blocks and sticking shit in peoples' tags is vindictive and entirely intentional in all the worst ways, and shame on them for pretending otherwise, and by leading with such a poor example for many roleplayers, some of whom are in their teens. One of the people who tried to message Raven (they, too, were called out on Raven's blog) was speaking to a nineteen-year old who was completely clueless about the extent of the manipulation Raven was pulling. They thought all of it was normal and acceptable behaviour. That genuinely terrifies me. And while I imagine if Raven was genuinely apologetic, they would've gone to the callout blog and ask them to delete the callout post (attempt it, at the very least), somehow, I don't think that would've happened given all of their prior actions. God forbid something else is going on there.

Phew. Yeah, I'm angry. Maybe I'm just biased and tired. But honestly, I have a right to be. Raven's apology is a handwave, and they know it. It's a slap in the face to me, to you, and to everyone else who was involved in this clusterfuck. They're not the center of the universe. They affected real people, with real problems of their own. Anyways, I am so sorry for this, argh. Really had to get this out, and I didn't want to dump it on discord or somewhere else; I sure as heck didn't want to go to COAR with it. But hey, maybe people here will feel less alone if I added my own account to the mix. The more, the merrier? In a sense, anyways. Sometimes if you feel like you've been singled out, it's nice to know you're not actually the only person it's happened to.

Sorry for saving your reply for last, Anon. It's such an important one, I wanted to be properly thoughtful!

I think that it is going to make some people feel less alone, and there is always some relief in sharing one's trials. That might be especially true when one has been unable to share them anywhere else. It's not like you can address this on your own blog right now, COAR is definitely not a safe place to do so, it's a very isolating feeling that is made worse for having done nothing.

Coming back and being required to wade through this shit was really damn disgusting to me as well, but at least in my case, I had neither been obliged to distance myself for the sake of mental health nor was I treated to the sickening display of drumming up ideas of victimization from someone who victimized me. What I experienced was just incredulity and disgust, I cannot imagine how incensing this must be for you, I am so very sorry. If it makes me angry having a degree of removal and watching in it real time? What you're experiencing...there really isn't a single word to adequately encapsulate that, I'm sure.

You've still expressed so many of the things I've thought and felt. I found all that initial behavior uncalled for, shameful, yet another display of what's actually wrong in the RPC, but it was increasingly upsetting to me the more I looked into it because it did feel a little (a lot) too reminiscent of the sort of bullying experienced in person. It's really something else to be viciously picked at by someone who keeps upping the game until such point as it begins to cause them trouble, then get to be painted the wrongdoer and punished in some way for it because they're presenting as a sympathetic victim. A more sympathetic victim than you, that's really what I mean, I'm just going to say it.

And that was already in swing by the time I got from the launch point to the smoking crater of then current events. I got to Raven's again after bouncing back and forth between their interactions with others, largely from COAR, yes, and the shit on the callout blog...to see...everyone else being blamed in increasingly drastic ways.

Because on tumblr, unlike reality, if you throw out enough times ahead of time that you have disorders people can get behind, you're more sympathetic, not less. So long as one has set that foundation and has others to broadcast it once convenient, any horrible action one undertakes is given a pass. Anyone disagreeing, anyone not tolerating the abuse, is in the wrong now. In the worst possible way, of course.

This whole thing began with incredibly unnecessary bullshit and every, I mean fucking every, further action taken was a new level of fucked up, but the trivializing of and damage done to the perception of mental health and differences is quite possibly the worst. Are those things that need any more of that? It's already such a problem! I already see suspicion and fatigue with this, every time it's given validation, it grows.

Even if I wasn't mentally ill, with one of the disorders that gets vilified even on tumblr, even if I were not autistic, even if I never knew a single person who suffered worse than I do from the the complications they won by way of being born, hadn't anyone I loved that took their lives, this would be extremely upsetting to me. Using the idea that "whatever I do, it's got to be acceptable because I am X" while not caring that anyone else is X, Y, and/or Z. Weaponizing it for bullying and sympathy simultaneously. Way too much. Incredibly gross and harmful, legitimately fucking problematic.

I want people to be taken seriously when they choose to speak of the boundaries their mental health requires, I want muns to be able to say that they are having a difficult time without it coming off (even to the rest of us with mental health conditions) as a ploy for attention/guilting for whatever action they desire be taken by partners, and I want people to take threats of oncoming, serious harm seriously. How are they to do this, when it is continually used as tool or weaponized against others? At very best, it becomes another thing to ignore and scroll by on the dash.

As we've all had the misfortune to experience or witness so recently, once it is weaponized, it's a problem of priority. I've said in damn near every message I've gotten that Raven isn't the only person involved here who has serious shit going on, but like the absurdity with trying to spin an accident as transphobia, or having the audacity to attempt speaking from a place of peace in a way that might benefit everyone, Raven included, resulting in a callout about being against ND people...it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that any of us are neurodivergent, have serious chronic mental health complications, or are not cisgender. Raven was swinging that around like a flaming sword to drive off bigots real and imagined before we ever got their attention.

Attention they fucking asked for.

Reblogging that post from COAR was just like posting those rules. The intention was to get attention, and it was asked for with extreme hostility. I have no idea how that is coming off to anyone as simply them defending themselves. It was a great moment to either not out themselves as the person in the confession at all, not engage with it, quietly remove the post, or to reblog it and take responsibility in a meaningful way at that point. Can you imagine what a difference that would have made then? If Raven had chosen instead to reblog it and apologize for doing what they had. Just that. No shitty, snide little comments about how they're sorry, but still absolutely correct and here are five reasons why everything they've misconstrued won't be tolerated. Just an acknowledgment of wrongdoing, an apology for doing so, and awareness gained moving forward.

Their decision to interact with that post in the way they did wasn't just more of the same nonsense, it was actively upping the game. I don't really care if it was intentional bait or just continuing to let malicious impulse run free, it was used as bait. Everyone who interacted with that post was effectively consigning themselves to harassment, and if they happened to interact on literally any other topic that group held a passionately opposing opinion on, they were attacked for it. Curiously, it became necessary for them to be harassed by way of the callout blog, but that is getting a little close to off-topic, so, I'll leave it at that.

So, while I initially really wanted to have the appeal to Raven work because their expressions of regret that I was greatly on the fence about being genuine, I'd say those flags were accurate. I cannot believe that someone who took every opportunity to do the wrong thing is genuinely sorry. Sorry for themselves, absolutely, sorry for anything they did, not so much. This constant narrative I got of "they SAID they were sorry" and "they apologized again and again and took the posts down," including from Raven, is incredible. On that last one, they, yet again, couldn't actually address me.

Appropriate response: messaging me or reblogging that post (you know, the rules snippet I found right the hell there still, despite the claim of it being deleted and the final catalyst of me needing to say something after I saw that, nope, surely was not) with the acknowledgment of a single thing I said.

Extra appropriate response: ^ plus going to everyone who could still be located that they harmed with a genuine, individual, private apology.

Inappropriate response that was had: new post, shitty, childish tone like they at once wanted to argue with me and didn't want to drop the act, restating of this apology that had already been deleted and meant exactly shit while it existed, restating of how they deleted this post and couldn't control reblogs, ignoring that I literally reblogged the original copy from their blog.

Apology neither believed nor accepted. Just as it wouldn't be if my nephew came to my house, broke a bunch of my things, said he was sorry while throwing the pieces at my pet, then threw himself on the floor screaming that he said he was sorry when I told him to go have a time out.

(Yes, I absolutely did just make a comparison to a child, y'all can shit yourselves again. It's not my problem if you want to misconstrue "this person's actions are not befitting of an adult" as "Vespertine said autistic people are children!" Fucking miss me with that. I'm an autistic adult who pays my bills, apologizes, doesn't treat people like shit while trying to excuse it by being ND. You're offensive with that shit, and contributing to the negative perception people have of those on the spectrum. Be a good ally today! Don't valid that! Free ninety-nine offer!)

Again, sorry for yourself does not equal being sorry for what you've done. The former can contribute to the development of the latter, but as I said in a response yesterday, there has been no display of that beginning to transpire. I genuinely hope that will eventually be the case because that would be the best outcome, the only "best" outcome at this point. Even if it was two years from now, if it did happen, I certainly would not be kind to people refusing them any such growth in peace, and I hope that, by some distant chance, I get to prove that.

But...stating "my intentions were good" over any part of this is not remotely promising. When? Where? At what point? Oh, right, when you took it upon yourself to label a random mun you took issue with. That's when your intentions were good. Then, when you vehemently needed to defend that point by callouts and individual attacks under the guise of it definitely not being about your pride, no! It was the defense of everyone else! Defending the community by carpet-bombing it, yes. This is not a "the path to Hell is paved with good intentions" situation.

I am so disturbed about the nineteen-year-old mun, my god. I'm telling y'all, my anger and disgust almost reach what I think is a pinnacle, then there's something new like this.

I don't even subscribe to tumblr's ideology that anyone under twenty-five is an actual infant who needs be kept in a protective bubble and forgiven for all bad behavior with infinite kindness, nineteen-year-olds deserve the agency of the adultier adults they are becoming, but it is a transitional age. Especially today. Most socialization and formative ideas take place online, and by the time younger RPers are entering the adult sphere of RP here, they've already got some really unhealthy ideas. About themselves, about others. There is such a demand for rabidly performative action that gets internalized, it shouldn't be being heartily fed by people in the community they might look up to.

At that age, someone like Raven is going to be a person looked up to. They espouse all the right ideas, and it's an age in which aggressive interaction over those things is seen as amusing and correct, no matter how wrong the actions taken are or the basis upon which they are founded. When these people foster an environment of cruelty for questioning, of course, that is not going to be the natural response. The response is now going to be the requirement of being told otherwise with adequate proof.

I have suspected that many of the hateful anons I've gotten were from Raven's even younger followers who feel like it's normal, acceptable, and that everything they're being told by Raven's sales team over at the callout blog is absolutely true. Of course, they're now morally obligated to come harass me for the things they were told I did! I think it's likely that several of the anons people got were from actual minors, which is so many levels of scary and irresponsible. Really great example all around, yes!

Because whether it is one's intention or not, that is potentially exposing minors, or muns who are still close enough to be more negatively impacted, to who even knows what. As well as violating the rules of blogs who do not interact with minors for good reason, setting those blogs up for yet another callout for treating someone they didn't know was a minor the way they did or having "freak shit" on their blog. Setting up the other party to be treated with full hostility as an adult would be. Very cool, very responsible.

There is just so much here that is unacceptable, I don't think people who were not directly impacted or have never had a callout against them understand the results, and that is one more unacceptable thing you've been good enough to talk about.

Even while taking a break from the RPC, it affects you negatively. Wondering what you're coming back to, your blog is no longer a safe feeling space, and there's nothing you can do to "cultivate your blog" to change that. They've taken away the ability to simply block and avoid others, the thing that keeps all of us comfortable here as well as allowing that to be all of us no matter how disagreeable we might be to each other. Callouts negate adult behavior. Callouts mean that one doesn't know where more potential for harassment might be coming from, or how long we might have to be worried about that.

It would be a major concern for me as well about what putting myself out there to new writing partners might bring. What the success of that might be. It's incredibly unfair that they've made finding new people precarious and more unpleasant than it can be anyway. That puts all of the future of your RP here in question, and if you're like me, just dropping a muse, picking up another, and moving to a new URL isn't going to be a good choice for you. It isn't that simple if you dedicate time to a muse for a long period of time, when that's the case, that's the RP you want to do and have laid the groundwork for.

I don't know if it will help at all, but it has seemed to me, over the past several days, that there are fewer people in the RPC who are inclined to believe or support callouts than there once was. I was hoping that was the case, since there is always so much interaction on my posts against callout culture, but until this crap went down, I had no idea just how many people are not positive toward it. It has seemed to be that the people who are inclined to listen to callouts are just louder.

I've also noticed that those people have the same set of red flags, so maybe sharing that will help you or others?

They don't have simple, basic, reasonable Do Not Interacts. It isn't simply asking that minors don't interact because the mun is over eighteen, that muns writing a triggering topic not interact, or that sort of thing. No, it's URL dropping of specific muns, outright links to callouts or "receipts," and an accusatory tone about any topics or types of muns who shouldn't interact. Such as "nasty ass proshippers" or "pedo apologists shipping incest."

Their rules are reflective this as well. A statement cannot be made that they do not write, let's say, toxic ships and left at that. There will be some morality wank present about normalizing or romanticizing toxic/abusive relationships.

There are less assured flags, but literally, anything that stands out as an interest in RPC or fandom-based activism as opposed to an interest in writing, their muses, or even their friendships with a variety of muns. I don't mean a rounded-out interest in things, I really do mean a glaring predominance of buzzword-laden reblogs and PSA's while they've not written a reply, headcanon, or answered a meme in months.

I'm not saying any of that because I feel like you, or anyone else's, judgment is terrible or that you're oblivious to warning signs! It's just that when we've experienced bad situations, it can compromise our ability to see clearly. It becomes easy to see a potential threat everywhere, and maybe that seems contrary, but it's then easy to fail to see real threats from those we're blowing up. We question whether we're being just as judgmental as the people who wronged us, putting words in other muns' mouths and thoughts in place of their own as was done to us. While we still are afraid to be wrong in giving someone an in to ruining our time again.

So, please, don't feel like I'm questioning your intelligence or speaking from a place of ultimate knowledge, never making mistakes in such a choice! I just really hate that you, and many others, are going through this, and anything at all that I can think of that might help you move forward from this utter bullshit you've been through, I've got to try to grab it.

Because, Anon, like all those sharing their experiences these last few days, you sound like the kind of mun we need in the RPC.

You're someone willing to share with others for the benefit of others. You're being honest about your feelings of anger and even the hopeless sensation of whether it's even worth it to try to return, having your progress on and offline stomped on, while still maintaining a sort of fairness and calm that I know is not easy. Because that's the mature thing to do, it's the right thing, and unfortunately, those are usually the harder things to do as well.

You did the right thing in expressing your opinion and doing what people like Raven's group love to be on about, can only do through bullying: not tolerating it. I'd hate for the RPC to lose someone like you!

Just as your message matters to more people out there than myself, I have no doubt that your choice to not quietly allow this behavior mattered to more muns than you'll ever know. I'm sure that none of them would have wanted this result for you, but so many muns have experienced such toxic, bullying behavior over the years in which not a soul spoke up.

Many of you proved something very important with challenging Raven and the callouts blog, that unlike them, it isn't necessary for good people to even know each other to do the right thing. They have to dogpile and engage in cliquish behavior, what they do isn't coming from a place of inner ethics and strength, but what you all did? It's the opposite.

So, not only do I thank you again for sharing and providing the important support of simply not being alone to others, I thank you for being the example to the RPC that people dealing in callouts and generalized shaming cannot be, no matter their platform.

I hope that, whether you choose to remain, leave, or take a very long break, everything you've been dealing with starts to look up. I know it's easy to say things made hollow for their repetition and flippant use, like telling you not to let them win, or that their bullshit just isn't that important. So, I'm not going to say them.

It doesn't work that way when you're dealing with mental health concerns! You can logically know that this is just petty bullshit not worth being run out of something important to you, but that doesn't stop the worry, frustration, or depression. You can have all the determination in the world to hang in there, even the spite to back it up, but neither is a match for the things you cannot control coming from your brain. That is the cruelty of mental illness on the very best of days.

You have all of my respect, support, and genuine sympathy that this happened to you. No one should be allowed to continually and unapologetically go out of their way to throw a wrench into someone's hard-won progress. You did nothing to deserve this, and the people out there worth interacting with are going to be the same ones who will have no question of that.

Lastly, I also hope that some of the anons sharing their experiences have helped you feel less alone, or like you're not just irrationally upset. Please know that you're seen and supported as well! And that you are always welcome to talk more, vent, share successes here.

Thank you, Anon.

#vespertine #answered #anonymous #long post #drama cw #rp harassment #callout culture

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 7//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn , @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red)

Two things were becoming increasingly apparent: the first being that Rhys wouldn’t be the only one to coddle me for the duration of my pregnancy, and the second being that my adverse symptoms wouldn’t be alleviating any time soon.

I had a full week of reprieve where I was beginning to gain back some of my energy, and I was able to fall into a new work routine with Rhys; one where he insisted we work together in my office so he wouldn’t have to leave my side, before the waves of nausea and extreme fatigue returned. My vivid and violent nightmares also reappeared with a vengeance, and there was a night I awoke with quite possibly the worst I have ever had and spent the rest of the night in the bathing room. The next day I couldn’t leave the bed or lift my head without being overcome with a terrible dizzying spell, and barely managed to hold down the broth Rhys tried feeding me.

It took hours of negotiation to convince him not to summon Madja after I insisted that this was all, unfortunately, part of early pregnancy I would have to endure for the time being. Seeing me in such a state left him feeling anxious for my health, and I knew the same was true for the rest of our family as well. When I had confined myself to our suite after my symptoms flared up, the Illyrian males would take turns poking their heads in the door to check on me before Rhys eventually shooed them away—trying his hardest not to snap at them. At one point, when Rhys had a meeting with a palace lord that he couldn’t reschedule and begrudgingly attended, Cassian was the one to hold my hair back and comfort me during a particularly brutal wave of nausea.

Even Mor and Amren wanted to ease my burdens; both going so far as to take over my paperwork duties. Their reasoning being that as my second and third in command, they could sort through “frivolous” desk work. Elain, aside from Rhys, fussed over me the most. She was up earlier than normal in the mornings, brewing plain broths and my prenatal herbal teas that Nuala and Cerridwen taught her to make in the kitchen. Throughout the day she delivered my meals to either my bedroom, which I couldn’t leave until the day before last, or my office—where I now worked exclusively from my loveseat. Once I had the energy to resume my work, Rhys rejoined me in my office; picking up on his own work he had abandoned in order to tend to me. There were times when even Nesta would join Elain on her frequent visits, sometimes just surveying me from the doorway. I didn’t mind her distance, however, and gratefully drank the anti-nausea teas she acquired for me from Madja’s clinic.

I sipped on it now as I lounged in my office with Rhys, both of us going over our annual reports as he ran a finger along my calves that I draped over his lap. Every few seconds I felt his glances over in my direction, checking my overall well-being and ready to nurse away any sudden ailment. After what seemed to be his hundredth glance, I finally set my stack of papers down.

“Rhys,” I warned.

“Yes, darling?” he asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes, “Will you stop? I’m fine. I actually feel a little better today,” I promised.

“That’s your second mug of that anti-nausea brew today, you’re not fine,” he said simply.

I sighed, settling back into the lounge pillows as I took another sip. “Just because I’m a little nauseous doesn’t mean I’m not alright,” I reasoned. “You don’t need to sit in here and babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting you, I’m babysitting my son.” He said nonchalantly, a hand coming to sneak under my lightweight sweater in order to rest on my bare stomach.

“You can’t babysit a baby that hasn’t been born yet.” I deadpanned, only mildly annoyed.

“Are you trying to kick me out of your office, Feyre darling?” He teased.

“Maybe. This is my personal space, after all.”

“Ah, but you know what a fan I am of your personal space.”

I tried not to smile at his remark and set my mug and paperwork aside, relaxing again and inviting him to lay beside me—which he happily obliged to as he settled in beside me, placing his own work aside as his mighty wings curled over us easily. His hand resumed its position on my stomach, pushing my sweater up in order to admire the ghost of an outward curve that resembled more of a full belly than an actual baby bump.

I placed a hand on his cheek, but before I could say anything, he stiffened and growled darkly with his wings flared as we both heard a set of voices on the other side of my office door. Cassian had been about to knock on it when Nesta stopped him with a sharp slap on his hand.

“Don’t bother. She and that High Lord of yours have been in there since breakfast, she’s fine,” Nesta scolded.

“Ow! I just wanted to say hi,” Cassian complained.

“There’s no need. One insufferable Illyrian is enough for a pregnant female,” she retorted.

“You’re one to complain about insufferable Illyrians,” he taunted, and I could practically see the pompous grin on his face as Nesta shushed him fiercely.

I couldn’t hear her comeback as she presumably pushed him down the hall and away from my door. I returned my gaze back up to Rhys, who instantly started to relax as their voices drifted away.

“Mating bond chafing a bit, Rhys?” I teased, repeating the same words Cassian had taunted him with after we first mated.

He barked a laugh, despite being feral just seconds before. “I can’t help it, Feyre darling,” he admitted. “Just the thought of another male coming near you sets me off.”

I stroked the hard plane of his cheekbone with my thumb, “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to release some of that aggression, like you’ve done before,” I suggested.

He shook his head, “I don’t want to be that kind of male; one who can’t control himself or his temper.”

I frowned, knowing who he was referring to and cupped both sides of his face, “You aren’t that kind of male Rhys. You never have been, and never will be. Working off some steam doesn’t mean you can’t control yourself,” I promised.

He further relaxed into my touch, his brow coming to rest against mine as he breathed in my new scent—the baby added the smell of jasmine to my normal lilac and pear that he previously described to me.

“I can’t bring myself to leave your side,” he said quietly. “Every second I’m away is agonizing. Not just in an intimate sense like before, but...I feel a sense of danger that grows stronger the longer I’m away.”

I kissed the tip of his nose, wrapping my arms around his neck loosely—silently reassuring him of my understanding. The mating bond was stretched tight for the both of us. Just as harrowing as it was for him every second we were apart, my own instincts left me completely and irrationally distraught. I made a mental note to mention it to Madja at our next appointment in a couple of days, but I chalked it up to our bond being hypersensitive thanks to the new life I was growing. That new life that also had every one of our friends and family doing their best to cater to my needs.

It was odd, but strangely comforting seeing their concern and their willingness to help. Apart from my sisters, I still worried that they only offered said help due to their sworn oaths to me as their High Lady and the child I was carrying.

“They’re not,” Rhys quietly interjected. I sighed, knowing my mental shields were left wide open again since I didn’t have the energy to build them back up. “They help and check on you because they genuinely care and worry about you, and the baby.”

I nodded, “You’re right. I guess I just know that even if they absolutely hated me, they still would.”

Rhys snorted, running a hand along my spine lightly as he contemplated. “I’m starting to worry, Feyre. I know Madja said to expect some nausea and fatigue, but your symptoms are well beyond that. I don’t know how much longer I can watch you suffer before I override your decision to call her,” he explained.

“I told you before, this is all a part of the process. If it makes you feel any better, we’ll bring it up to her at the next visit,” I reasoned.

He sighed deeply but reluctantly agreed, “We’ll wait until then, but if you try to underestimate any of your symptoms, I’ll be sure to set her straight. There must be something she can do.”

I giggled and nuzzled into him further, breathing in his salt-and-citrus scent as I closed my eyes, “Someone’s still being bossy,” I teased.

“Forgive me for not loving the sight of my pregnant mate hurling her guts up and having to take seven naps a day,” he retorted softly, still rubbing my back.

“But you said I’m cute when I’m sleeping,” I complained quietly, on the edge of unconsciousness.

“You’re even cuter when I’m assured that you and our son are healthy,” he said.

“You’re cute when you’re quiet and let me sleep,” I yawned.

A soft chuckle was his only response as he buried his nose in my hair, taking this opportunity to join me in a nap he rarely took. After a week of nightmares that left me restless at night, I knew he wasn’t getting any more sleep than I was. Any nap he took was just as well deserved as mine, and I relished in falling asleep to the sound of his even breaths.

“Your lingering fatigue and nausea are a bit concerning,” Madja began after her routine examination. I made good on my word and informed her of the extent of the symptoms I was experiencing. Despite feeling a little silly and worried that I would end up sounding like I was whining about the things she already warned me to expect, Rhys insisted we emphasize just how severely I was being impacted by them.

“In another two weeks, you’ll officially be in the second stage of your pregnancy—which is presumably when your early symptoms should be mitigating,” she continued. “That’s not to say they won’t, a lot can change in a couple of weeks, but most females tend to experience these symptoms until giving birth.”

I squeezed Rhys’s hand reassuringly, “See? I told you this is normal,” I said as I glanced up at him from my spot on our bed, and he helped me sit upright—noting my strain.

“Even the nightmares?” He asked with a frown.

The healer nodded, “Even the nightmares. I’m afraid pregnant females frequently experience more lively dreams—horrible as they may be.”

“I’m concerned with her stamina as well,” Rhys added. “She’s been practically bedridden this week.”

I sighed and reluctantly admitted, “I do get dizzy from regular activities now, like walking from one end of the estate to the other.”

Madja acquiesced, “That is common as well, and I assure you both that these are not signs of an unhealthy pregnancy, but rather a taxing one. You are both substantial high fae,” she said and motioned to Rhys and then to me respectfully, “As you are the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and as you were resurrected with the combined abilities of all seven High Lords, your child will be a powerful high fae—perhaps more so than you both. It is likely that your developing youngling is draining your energy as your body attempts to keep up.”

“Is that dangerous?” I asked before Rhys had the chance to.

The healer shook her head, “No. In fact, this is a good sign. It means you are able to maintain a pregnancy this extraordinary. Odds are, as the youngling progresses into further stages of development, your body will continue to accommodate and you’ll begin to gain back some of your energy.”

I gulped, not exactly relieved. Rhys cleared his throat as he spoke up, his hand coming to rest on my back, “We don’t have anything to worry about then?”

“Not at all,” Madja reassured, touching my knee gently. “It will be a long journey, but you will carry to term and deliver a healthy baby. So long as you keep resting, eating well, and limit any stress on your physical and mental health I see no cause for concern. I will change some of the dosages in your prenatal and anti-nausea brews, so that you are able to stave off the queasiness better and hold down your meals. Hopefully, in the coming weeks, your desire to eat will increase.”

“Are there any other alarming symptoms we should be aware of? Any warning signs we need to look for?” Rhys asked.

“Of course, and I have created a list of normal and abnormal symptoms, some I’ve mentioned before and some yet to come as things progress,” the older female replied, handing my mate said list. “As of right now, I’m confident you and your youngling are both in top condition.”

I nodded, still a bit tense as I asked, “Should we be worried about our mating bond? Both of our instincts have been a little...intense.”

Madja chuckled, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling in amusement, “I did warn you the mating bond would heighten your instincts now with a little one to consider,” she said.

“It's normal then, to feel a sense of...panic, when we’re apart?” Rhys asked.

“And to feel overprotective, and desperate,” the healer said, as if she were reading my mates mind. “You two are soon going to be parents to a beautiful, strong, and healthy baby. Given this is your first child, and considering your positions of power, you are going to be anxious—rightfully so. I want you both to realize your anxieties are normal, so long as you don’t allow them to cause you to live in fear,” she explained, taking our hands and squeezing them warmly with her own small wrinkled ones.

Her short speech caused my eyes to burn and without warning I burst into tears, a sob tearing through my throat as Rhys instantly wrapped me in his arms to console me. “I’m guessing this reaction is normal as well?” He asked, albeit sympathetically as he rubbed my back soothingly.

A warm smile graced the healer’s wrinkled lips as she nodded, “Yes. Expect more changes in mood from your pregnant mate, my lord. If she wasn’t prone to tears before, happy or sad, she will be now.”

I sniffed as I composed myself, willing the tears to stop, “I’m just...grateful. You’ve assured us on every front, and eased our concerns, and I’m so grateful to you.” I said, sniffling a bit pathetically.

“That is what I’m here for, my lady. And for you as well, my lord.” She said to both of us.

Rhys nodded appreciatively, “Thank you.”

She bowed her head and began gathering her things as Rhys turned back to me, taking a step back to kneel in front of my spot on the bed. “You were right. This is all normal,” he said as his hands came to rest on either side of my thighs.

I nodded, wiping at my tears, “Just exhausting.”

We both nodded in earnest at Madja as she excused herself from the room; Rhys coming to sit beside me on the bed.

“Maybe it's time we hire an assistant, just to lighten your workload a little,” he suggested.

“I suggested an assistant for both of us, not just me.” I reminded him.

His returning grin was wicked as he shrugged casually, “I wouldn’t mind having an assistant.”

I sighed tiredly and moved my head to perch on his shoulder, a hand resting on the small curve of my stomach. It was barely noticeable through my wool sweater, further hidden by the leggings I wore around the estate, but since noticing the small swell in my abdomen, we both couldn’t resist caressing it.

“Having an assistant would give us more time together, especially when the baby comes,” I said.

Rhys’s hand came to cover mine, squeezing gently, but when I turned to smile at him, I was met with a furrowed brow as he stared at my stomach. “What’s wrong?” I asked hesitantly.

“So small and already giving his mother a hard time,” he said softly, and I could hear the concern laced behind his words.

“Well he is his father’s son,” I tried to joke in an attempt to ease back into our relief after Madja’s exam, but his frown remained.

“His power is going to surpass both of ours,” he said, a sense of alarm gathering behind those violet star-flecked eyes—the same I had experienced after the healer first confirmed my pregnancy.

“I once warned you what it meant to marry me, to carry my offspring. A life with a target on your back. I wasn’t worried so much about you because I knew how strong you were, especially once you came into your powers, but now—with our child…” his voice trailed off as I moved to straddle his hips, wrapping both my arms around him as my hands tangled in his hair. I brought his head to rest against my chest in an effort to calm him.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he breathed in my scent, his own arms encircling my waist and relaxed as he kept his brow pressed between my breasts. “He’s going to be okay,” I whispered after a couple of minutes. “We have alliances with all but two courts now. Our world isn’t what it was before the war. Things have changed, even with the Mortal Lands,” I explained quietly as I stroked through his hair lightly.

I was glad that much was true. In the decade since the end of the war with Hybern, our alliances with the Summer, Winter, Day and Dawn Courts had solidified. As the years went by, we had been able to strengthen our relationships with Tarquin, Thesan and Kallias—more so with the latter since Viviane and I had developed a closer friendship. She was now the first High Lady of the Winter Court, just as much Kallias’s equal as I was Rhys’s, and we both held our heads high among the males surrounding us.

Once a year, we made a tradition of gathering all the High Lords—and Ladies, of Prythian as we had before the war began and met at the Dawn Court Palace. Lucien, Jurian and Vassa also attended those meetings; Vassa and Jurian representing and speaking on behalf of the Mortal Lands, with Vassa having taken over as the sole ruling Queen thanks to Jurian’s help at overthrowing the other traitorous queens. Collectively, we thought it best to let the human forces work together during that conflict—offering assistance if the humans needed it, but allowing them a chance at rallying their territory before we officially created a new alliance without the need for a wall.

At our new meetings, high fae and human finally together as one, we made it a point to keep each other in check—although no one had the urge to try and overthrow the other or expand their lands, but in recent years our main concerns were with the Autumn and Spring Court.

After his losses in the war, our alliance with Beron remained tentative, and it was Eris who appeared at our yearly meeting on behalf of the Autumn Court. Since he wasn’t a High Lord, however, and continued to have little sway on his father, the eldest son of the Autumn Court only attended to inform and assure us that Beron wasn’t making any advances on expanding into the Mortal Lands or staging any kind of uprising against the other courts. Still, with his cruel facade ever-present and his occasional visits to Keir in the Court of Nightmares, it was hard for the rest of us to completely trust him. Rhys, Mor and I made it a habit to pop into the Hewn City unannounced whenever Eris was there; making sure to send a clear message that we wouldn’t allow any secret negotiations to take place between the heir to the Autumn Court and the steward of our throne.

Tamlin was a separate issue. After reluctantly agreeing to allow Tarquin’s forces into his territory and reinforcing his borders, he was slowly able to rebuild his own army—some of his old sentries returning to serve him, appreciative of his assistance during the war and the attempts to bolster the Spring Court lands. The rest I wasn’t sure of, and the little I did know of had been gathered from what Lucien told us. It was no secret things were still, and would probably always be, strained with Tamlin and his court, and neither he nor any representative to speak on his behalf attended our meetings. At first, Rhys would occasionally visit on Tarquin’s behalf, checking on the warriors he supplied, but as the years went by and things seemingly improved, he stopped when Tamlin hadn’t bothered to greet him anymore.

However provisional things seemed to be with the Sprint and Autumn Courts, I knew our friends in the others would be happy to hear that we were expecting—especially Viviane and Kallias, who were also due to expect their first child in a couple of months. I made a mental note to contact Viviane and ask for advice on how she was coping with her pregnancy.

“Something isn’t sitting right with me,” Rhys finally admitted after a couple of minutes of silence passed between us.

I pulled back to meet his eyes, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Just as he was about to speak, his shoulders tensed and his wings flared as a hard knock was heard on our door. It was Azriel’s voice that came from the other side as he said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have news from the Illryian war camps.”

I climbed off of Rhys as we both moved to stand, Rhys answering the door before I could reach it. “Kallon?” He asked Azriel, who nodded grimly in return.

Rhys swore under his breath, “Get Cassian. We’ll meet in my office in two minutes,” he ordered the shadowsinger. Azriel nodded and left to do as he was instructed.

I frowned, “This is more than just Kallon spreading dissent, isn’t it? What if he’s planning something, an uprising of some sort?” I asked.

It was a possibility we hadn’t wanted to face, but after Azriel began to gather more and more intel on the camp lord’s resistance since their presence at the Blood Rite, it was now something we couldn’t ignore.

“It’s likely. The bastard has always hated us, and this is something he would try to pull after years of silence,” Rhys growled as he went to the desk we held in the corner of our room, searching for Az’s previous reports.

“He wanted us to think he wasn’t a problem,” I said as I went to help him look.

He grabbed my hand gently, “Let me handle this, please. Madja said you shouldn’t be under any stress,” he pleaded.

I stared back at him, my eyes hard, “I am High Lady of the Night Court, that includes the Illyrians as well. We handle this together.”

He chuckled humorlessly and only nodded in return without a second thought. He found the reports and we left together to meet Cassian and Azriel in his office. The two Illyrian warriors were in a fierce conversation as we walked in and Cassian immediately turned to face us as he growled,

“The bastard is planning a coup.”

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years ago

Text

The Pit or Talking and Punching

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst

This Passage Contains Potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and smutty content.

Summary: Damien makes Kirby pursue Roddy through making promos on him.

Kirby's POV:

The week went by quite quickly, when I woke up on Saturday I heard Rod going over things that he would say in a promo.

"Morning, Rod."

"Oh, well Good morning, beautiful."

"What are ya doing?"

"Going over my introduction to Piper's Pit, I'm filming it later so I thought I'd go over it now."

"Wait, you have your own interview segment?"

"Yeah. Honey, do you mind if I embellish facts a little?"

"It depends on what you say, but I see no harm in it."

"Thanks baby. C'mere sweetheart."

He walked over to me, straddling my lap and leaning down into a passionate kiss, pulling away when air became a necessity.

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Rod."

"I want you to come watch the interview later."

"I'll come with you if you want."

"Let's go get coffee, or breakfast," Rod got back up and helped me to my feet, "Holy shit."

"What?"

"Even when you've just woken up, ya so fucking beautiful."

"Thank you, you sexy little Scottish warrior."

"You Welsh rose, c'mere."

He pulled me down into a kiss, biting my lower lip and backing me against the wall, before we both realised what we were doing and sorting ourselves out.

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

"Don't worry, Kirbs, I got a bit hot there too."

I did my morning routine and followed Roddy to the D200, we stopped and grabbed some coffee before continuing to the taping. I saw Damien and he managed to talk me into cutting a promo on Piper.

"Rodz wasn't enough to stop me. Next Monday I will prove, in Edison, New Jersey that S.D Jones isn't enough to stop me. After that I'll be making my way towards the one person who needs to put their money where their mouth is. PIPER!" I took an exaggerated breath in, "Piper, you said that if I want a challenge than you'll be happy to oblige and I know that you have the guts to back it up, but do you have the STRATEGY or LOGIC to prove yourself better than ME! I DON'T CARE IF YOU SEND SCHULTZ OR ORNDORFF IN BEFORE YOU!" I took another breath in before whispering into the mic, "Just know that I'll be waiting Piper, waiting and watching from the shadows. If I have to destroy every other man or giant in the WWF before I get to you, I will Piper. Trust in me, that I will consume your soul and make you just another carcass lying broken and defeated on the mat, your blood will be mine."

I went up to Damien after doing the promo and he asked if I wanted to do another prom after my match and I agreed. Sunday went by as did most of Monday, including my match against S.D Jones, which I won after hitting him with the Cheshire Grin. I headed backstage before I was put in front of cameras and handed a microphone by Gene who quickly stepped away.

"I told you, Piper. I told you. Rodz, no challenge. S.D Jones, no challenge. Put your money where your big, loud mouth is boyo. PROVE TO THE WORLD THAT YOU ARE A MAN AND NOT A BOY, PIPER!" I took a deep breath in and got closer to the camera and mic to whisper the next line, "Prove to me that you are no coward," I backed off slightly, "Prove IT! NEXT FRIDAY, BINGHAMTON, NEW YORK! I FACE GEORGE 'THE ANIMAL' STEELE!" I went back to whispering, "Steele, you may be an animal, but you are no match for a hellhound. I will rend you limb from limb. I will have your blood and I will eat you alive."

Another week went by and on the Friday I won against Steele and had to do another promo on who my next 'victim' will be to intimidate Piper into hopefully making a promo to combat my efforts, seeing as the last two threats went unanswered.

"Another week, another victim, Piper, and still no answer. I DON'T DO THIS OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY HEART! I thought I had made that clear enough, boyo. I know what you're gonna do now, you're gonna go talk to your friends, Orndorff and Schultz and you're gonna get somebody to protect you, maybe Big John Studd, perhaps? Hmm? A giant to protect you against a giantess, seems almost poetic to me. PIPER! I CALL YOU OUT AS YOU HAVEN'T REPLIED TO MY THREATS YET! But I know you've heard them. I know because I hear you talking to Schultz and Orndorff. This Tuesday, Allentown, Pennsylvania. Me vs Steve Lombardi. Good luck Mr Lombardi, try not to bleed to death."

Yet again another weekend came and went with Piper doing two different Pit tapings. I won against Lombardi and did another promo on Piper. I was given a rose with the thorns cut off to make sure I didn't prick myself during the promo.

"Valentine's Day. The perfect day to eat the heart of your mortal enemy. PIPER! Oh Piper, do you know what I'd like to do to you. I'd like to meet you, face to face and then RIP YOUR HEART OUT OF YOUR CHEST AND WATCH AS IT BEATS IN MY HANDS! I jest, I kid, I know that a man of your heritage must have a hard time getting American women to fall at your feet and beg to see what's under the kilt. Tomorrow, I will be hunting you down and only you until you answer my call to action. Anyone who gets in my way is just another feast of the flesh to wet my appetite for your blood. Talk is so cheap when it comes out of the mouth of a man like you."

I went back to the hotel that night alone, Piper was out with Schultz and Orndorff. Opening the door I saw the bouquet of orange flowers and the box of chocolates next to the pink Valentine's day card covered in black hearts. 'Forever & Always I will love you. Roddy.' He's such a charmer.

"Do ya like it."

I gasped, clutching the card to my chest and spinning around to face him.

"I thought you were with the boys."

"Like I'd miss the chance to spend Valentine's day with my baby."

He pulled me into a kiss, passionate and slow, curving his left hand against my cheek and his right hand against the outside of my thigh. I leant into the kiss, biting his lower lip and holding his jaw in my hands.

"I'm sorry about the promos."

"It's fine baby, just be with me right now, alright."

"Alright."

I leant back into the kiss as Rod started backing me towards the closed bathroom door, kissing me and slipping his tongue into my mouth before shifting his focus to kissing my neck and nipping at my flesh. The rest of the night was a blur of passionate romance.

When I woke up the next morning, Rod's body was on top of mine and I could feel his flesh pressed against mine, both of us completely nude.

"Roddy." I whispered, trying to wake him

He stirred with a 'hmm' and eventually rolled off of me, getting up and going to the shower. As he showered I did my usual morning routine.

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Rod."

"I'm gonna start looking for a place to call our own, do you have anything ya want."

He got out of the shower and dried himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist and his arms around mine, pulling me towards him, flesh to flesh, chest to bosom, his shorter frame allowing him to nip at my collarbones with small kisses, making sure to leave his mark.

"Some place away from people, but not too far away. Enough rooms for a big family, be that kids or if friends stay over. The potential for I dunno, a pool or an outdoor or indoor gym."

Rod managed to push me backwards out of the room and towards the double bed, pushing me down and walking off to get dressed.

"One of the rooms has to be a nursery of course." I mumbled out, just loud enough for him to hear.

He stopped midway through putting on his sporran, his back still turned to me.

"You mention kids once more and I'm marrying ya and putting a baby in ya. One more mention of children lass."

I decided to tease him, "Alright. Children. Toddlers. Babies. Pacifiers. Strollers," I could tell he was getting irritated and knowing that Rod could go off the deep end at any moment I stupidly continued, "Rod, I am the youngest of my cousins. I was three when my parents married. I went to all my cousins weddings. I was there when every one of them with kids had their first child. Do you think I like being alone forever? Roddy Piper, turn around and talk to me. I feel like a fucking outcast to my own family because I am alone, the tallest and the youngest but I am the only one who left their homeland to pursue a career. Roderick would you just fucking face me and tell me I'm not just a human sex toy to y-"

He cut me off with a rough but incredibly passionate kiss, pushing me against the wall next to the hotel room door, raising my left leg with his right hand and intertwining his left with my long, blonde hair. He managed to slip his tongue into my mouth and grinding his groin against mine, almost hungrily, grunting and growling like an animal, tears soon pricking the corners of his eyes as he pulled away.

"Fuck," He kicked his suitcase along the floor, "I can't take this, I can't take knowing that I make you feel so bad every time I wanna have sex with you. I want to be with you because I love you, I don't want to lose you or walk away from us but, I don't want to hurt you."

"Rod, my Mam gave me something to give to you," I walked over to my suitcase, grabbing a tiny black box and approaching him.

"What's that?"

"A silver ring." I admitted, blushing heavily

"A wedding band? Are you proposing to me?"

"No…"

"I'm never gonna remove this and you know this," He said, putting it on his left ring finger.

"I mean, ya don't have to wear it if ya don't want to." I sheepishly replied, covering my face with my left hand.

"You are bright red right now, Kirbs. Ya so fucking cute, c'mere," He pulled me down onto his lap, gently placing a kiss on my lips, "I would say that, this ring means we're engaged."

"Rod, ya don't have to-"

He cut me off with another kiss, "I'm only suggesting it, I've still gotta propose to you to make sure we ain't leaving each other, ya dafty."

"Roddy, I'd never leave you."

"Kirby, I'm still gonna propose to ya, ya not stopping me from doing it."

We split, with Rod going off to work and me stopping by to make another promo on the Rowdy one.

"Piper, I extend to you the potential to cut a deal here, boyo. If you manage Studd, I will revoke this offer, BUT, I OFFER YOU, PIPER, I offer you this one deal right here and now, I have heard what you say about me when the cameras aren't rolling, how would you like to make those words mean something? PIPER! I offer you A once in a lifetime deal. JUST for you and ONLY YOU! I offer you the chance to unmask the giantess, yes, you AND ONLY YOU, PIPER, will be allowed to remove my mask but only if I am allowed to mend whatever bridge I burnt when I called your talk cheap. I was wrong, you are smart, Piper, but put your money where your mouth is and answer me. Do you wish to take my deal, yes or no?"

By the end of the month I had seen less and less of Rod, every night he would call me and tell me he was 'sorting things out' and to 'wait and see'. We would travel together from show to show, usually with me driving and Rod sleeping next to me, until the night of the twenty-sixth of the February, Piper made us take a red eye flight out to Salem Oregon. We ended up sleeping in a motel that night. Piper woke me up at six in the morning.

"Honey, I need to tell ya something."

"Something good or something bad?"

"That depends," he chucked a pamphlet of some sort over to me, "What do you think of Oregon?"

"It's nice, quaint and quiet, very square buildings though."

"So ya like it."

I mumbled out a 'yeah' as I looked over the pamphlet, 'Welcome to Salem', judging by the contents of it, Rod wasn't just looking for us to spend a day's holiday here.

"Kirby?"

"Yes, my love."

"You wouldn't mind moving here, would ya?"

I stopped momentarily, locking eyes with the mad Scottish brute and realised he wasn't joking.

"I love you," The words escaped my lips, my excitement to much to contain, "Oh my God, Rod you're the best person in the universe, When do we move in and where's the house?"

"You said you wanted away from people, I got us a small place off the beaten track, I've already looked around it and paid for it, we've just gotta go get the keys from the previous owners and the house is ours."

END OF THE PIT or TALKING AND PUNCHING

#wrestling fic #Lucifarians

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