#(After all; if she didn't see her own worth; if she didn't view herself as deserving love and happiness;)

[elaacreditava]

Have I found you, flightless bird?

Azriel Shadowsinger x reader

Summary: Rhysand brings back home a mysterious girl with a distaste for Illyrians. Azriel feels attracted to her and compelled to change her view on things.

Warning: angst, blood, gore, pinning and fluff

Word count: 4.661k

Note: This is my first writing ever. Never thought about writing fics, only reading them (obsessed) but I couldn't take this fic out of my mind so I decided to write and share it.

After Amarantha's death, Rhysand winnowed back to Velaris with an unknown female. As soon as he saw his family, Rhys fell to his knees and was hugged by Mor while cried and said repeatedly "she's my mate". His cousin, Amren, Cassian and Azriel stared incredulously at the mysterious woman in the corner of the room.

"Who are you?", the Illyrian commander asked after the shock of the situation has passed.

"I'm Y/n and no, he's not talking about me, I'm not his mate", Y/n answered feeling the need to get rid of any misunderstanding. No one asked any more questions while all of them sat down after Rhysand had calmed himself enough to start explaining everything that had happened since the beginning.

When Rhys was done hours later, Azriel noticed how little he knew about Y/n, as if Rhys was leaving her out of it as much as possible intentionally, only saying that she was Amarantha's slave just like him.

Seeing Y/n rounded ears, no scales, horns, wings, slitted eyes or anything that made her high fae or lesser, Azriel deemed she was human, the most beautiful female he has seen in his life with her smooth long hair, slender body and sharp face, no older than 25. But what got Azriel most about her were her eyes, more than the exquisite color they had, the look she gave at them, the kind of look of someone that had been through a lot and would never let it happen again was always present. He needed to know more about her, so he decided to pry for answers.

"Why did you bring the human back with you? Why not send her back to the mortal lands?" Az asked Rhysand but as soon as he finished his sentence, Y/n eyes turned in his direction and the shadowsinger knew he had made a mistake. "The 'human' is no human at all and she hates when someone talks about her as if she's not present." Y/n said in a disgusted tone and with such fury that Azriel felt like he's been electrocuted, but being the spymaster he is, he didn't let show how much the storm in her eyes affected him.

"Y/n isn't human, she's... something else, but that's not my story to tell. She will tell whenever she feels ready to share." replied Rhys trying to keep the conversation under control. Azriel and Y/n kept staring at each other for a while and he had a feeling she didn't like him very much. When the silence was uncomfortable enough for everybody else in the room, Azriel was the first to speak "Apologies, I didn't mean to, I see you and know you can speak for yourself." That caught Y/n off guard. Was it possible for an Illyrian to be different from all the ones she has meet before? Apologizing and looking at her as if had worth stirred something in her chest, something she hadn't felt before, like a tug in her heart. But she decided to not let it show and only nodded in return.

After introducing Y/n to his family, Rhysand decided the conversation would be over for now. "Y/n and I must rest" Rhys said to everyone and turning to her he finished with "Nuala and Cerridwen will help you getting settled." With that, the High Lord left and everybody else went to their own affairs while the half-wraiths took Y/n to the room she would be staying.

A warm bath was waiting for her and since she was feeling the need of washing away everything that happened she went in. Scrubbing the skin raw has become a tradition, the necessity of getting rid of Amarantha's touch and smell she could feel on herself after she was used, like Rhys was. Even now, with Amarantha dead, Y/n could smell her as if it was impregnated on her skin, as if she would never be free of it. So she scrubbed and cried and scrubbed some more like she did for years and years.

Having left the bath and changed into a short sleeved knee length dress, Y/n felt as clean as she could get. She was thinking about taking a walk around to explore the house when someone knocked on the door. Y/n went and opened it coming face to face with Azriel. Looking at him from this close, she could see the green in his hazel eyes, the light freckles on his cheeks, how his sharp jaw could cut anything. He was breathtaking. And breathless she was... until she realized they were staring at each other, so she cleaned her throat and said "Can I help you with anything?"

Azriel noticed her puffy eyes from crying during her scrub session and the raw skin of her arms and neck, so red that looked very sensitive to touch. The dark blue dress she was wearing complimented her curves and skin tone. He could only think about how was it possible to someone to look so mesmerizing even with puffy eyes, raw skin and a simple dress.

After a moment he averted his eyes "I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court." he extended his hand, palm up, his shadows went to his fingertips, eager for her to make contact so they would jump to her warm fingers. Y/n put her hand on his and he kissed it and gave her a little bow while he saw his shadows circling her wrist and caressing her forearm "They seen to like you" his lips twitched trying to hold a smile before he continued "I was wondering if you need anything. Perhaps a tour around the place?" he said looking at her eyes now with a little smile, still holding her hand, and Y/n was wondering how soft his lips would feel against hers.

No! She couldn't get involved with him! After everything she's been through, she didn't need an Illyrian brute controlling her choices, taking away her freedom like she knew was part of their culture. As soon as she thought about it, she snatched her hand back and said "No thanks, I don't need to go anywhere with your kind" dismissing him. She was ready to close the bedroom door but he stopped her, holding the door ajar. She could see hurt and fury in his eyes, his shadows back around him were bristled when he asked "What do you mean with 'my kind'?" at that moment she thought he probably didn't always need to torture to get the answers he wanted, the look he was giving her and the tone he voiced his question was almost enough to make her apologize and cower in a corner. But she didn't suffer all she did all those years to run and hide when confronted any male.

"I don't need an Illyrian male telling me what to do and where to go, soon enough you'll start telling me what to wear and how to behave" she replied coldly.

"What?! I was just trying to be nice since you just got here and don't know your surroundings. Never wanted to control you in any way, just thought you would feel more at ease knowing how to come and go." He took a step closer, she could smell night-chilled mist and cedar coming from him "Don't compare me to other Illyrians you have met before. You don't know me", his low voice giving her goosebumps and making her heart race.

Azriel felt an anguish in the current situation he hasn't felt before. Being compared to everything he had fought against his whole life.

"Whenever you feel like leaving your prejudice behind, I'll be around." with that he left leaving Y/n stunned by the door. She was so shocked by his words that she didn't remember closing the bedroom door, walking to her bed and laying down. She felt a mix of rage and shame, how he talked to her, after she patronized him, how her prejudice made her think they're all the same when all he showed her was kindness. She took a deep breath and got up ready to find him and apologize but as soon as she got to the door and opened, Rhys was there. "Hey! I just saw Az leaving, looking mad, what happened?" he asked, so Y/n told him everything about their encounter.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Y/n. The brooding face, shadows and bat wings might give you the wrong impression but once you get to know him, you'll see that he's nothing like you ever knew. Let the past in the past and try to be open minded" the High lord said, making her feel even worse about the situation. So she got up fast and said "I need to go, Rhys. Do you know where I can find him? I really need to apologize."

"He's probably at the library, it's where we usually find him when he's pissed. It's on the lower floor, fourth door to your right." he instructed her knowing she had no idea where was anything in the house. "Thanks Rhys, wish me luck!" she said passing Rhysand and giving him a peck on his cheek.

"No problem! And you won't need luck, Az is a nice male and you are you. He will understand and both of you will be fine." he said with a smirk looking at her as if he knew something Y/n didn't. She went to the lower floor and the fourth door to her right was a large one, very library like so she got in and started looking for him. The place was so big, with endless shelves full of books. She will definitively spend some time here in the future. For now she had to find him, but had no idea where to start.

Something on the ground was trying to get her atention and when she stepped closer she noticed it was one of his shadows. When she bent down to touch it the shadow moved to an aisle luring her to follow it and so she did. After some twists and turns she found him sitting on a sofa with a pile of books and reports laying on the table by his side. He looked very comfortable, with his legs spread, one hand holding a report while the other arm was resting on the back of the sofa holding his head in place. His wings were behind the sofa resting, just as spread as his legs. And damn, if the rumors about wingspan were true, the male in from of her was very blessed. Fuck, she comes to apologize and can't stop thinking about those things, not nice!

As soon as she came into view, he stiffened and fixed his posture, looking tense and ready to fight. "I've come in peace!" She stated quickly while holding her hands up in a surrender position for him to see. "I was so unfair comparing you to others, I am very sorry about it. I've had some bad experiences in life but that doesn't excuse how I treated you." Az looked her over, her guilty ridden face told him she was being sincere.

"It's okay, I forgive you" he replied and she instantly looked so relieved and for a couple of seconds he just kept gazing at her, something in her was so entrancing, he couldn't take his eyes off of her until -"wait, how did you find me here? This library is like a maze" he said imagining the trouble she went through until finally finding him.

"Uh, as soon as I entered the library one of your shadows found me and guided me to you" she said and his jaw dropped. His shadows always helped him to hide, not to be found. It didn't matter who was looking for him, they never gave his whereabouts to anyone. "You little traitors" he scolded them playfully. Even feeling a bit betrayed by them he felt glad that they did it and the air between Azriel and Y/n could be cleared.

"So, I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Y/n. Would you mind giving me a tour around the place?" she used almost the same words he did hours before by her door so he barked a laugh, got up, took the hand she extended, kissed it, put it around his byceps and told her "It would be my pleasure."

He didn't fail to notice how his shadows would naturally run from him to hers, excited to touch her warm skin and back to him bringing her smell with them.

Months have passed and the dynamic between them both was as if they have known each other for centuries. They would talk for hours about a book they read, go to a cafe to have their favorite pastries, walk down the Rainbow while chatting about the future, training hand to hand combat, since Y/n begged to learn anything because she felt the need since she was never able to fight back in her slave days or before that.

Everything was great between them, except for the fact that Y/n still didn't disclose anything to him about her past. He didn't know what she was, where she came from, how old was she, and that made Azriel confused. She was comfortable enough to have him around, to do almost everything together, even sleep on his shoulder once when they were reading together side by side on the couch and she fell asleep, laying her head on his shoulder, then moving to his chest, and when waking up, not being embarrassed about it, as if it wasn't the first time this was happening and as id it wasn't almost gave him a heart attack.

Her head near his face, he could smell her hair, feel the softness of it on his cheek, he wanted to run his hands through it, feel it between his fingers. Then she moved a little bit to get more comfortable and her nose was almost touching his chest. He could feel her breath on his skin since the V neck he was wearing showed some skin. It tickled him and gave goosebumps.

He couldn't concentrate on his book any longer. All he could think about was how would it feel to have her hair between his fingers while she kissed his chest, his abs, his- never mind! He took a deep breath and tried very hard to take his mind off of it. They would be very flirty with each other all the time but it was just a joke, she would never be interested in him more than friends. She was so kind, brave, smart and pretty. And he was just him.

Today was training day and they were stretching at the center of the ring before starting with hand to hand combat. Y/n was wearing leggings and a long sleeved shirt. Azriel noticed Y/n never wore sleeveless clothing, she would show her arms sometimes but never her back. He tried to dismiss this information but it kept nagging at him.

Azriel was wearing his combat leathers, and Y/n couldn't stop staring at his muscles, how good he was looking. He kept giving her a welcoming smile, an encouraging one since they were about to start fighting and he would handle her ass to her. She has been training for months now but he has been training for centuries, it didn't matter what a great professor he was, she would never win a fight between them, even so with her getting distracted when their skin touch, when he imobilizes her and she can feel his breath on her neck, when he's so close that everything she can do is do her best to keep herself under control and not kiss him then and there.

It was impossible not to fall for him. He was amazing, she could spend the whole day with him and would never tire of his company. Everyone saw him as a serious fae, never smiling and always in the shadows, but with Y/n he was funny, attentive, respectful and smart. Gods, she wanted him so much. But he would never want her, a broken girl, her years as a slave only left a shadow of the person she was. He would answer her flirtation with the same tone but of course it was just a joke to him, he could have anyone, why would he choose her?

"Okay, today we'll test the grappling you've been learning lately. We have tested your kicking lessons and punching ones in the last classes. Today, no kicking, no punching, only imobillizing, got it?" He asked and even knowing what was coming, she got nervous. He was very built, tall and large so she would have trouble dealing with it.

He taught her how to take down bigger opponents but one thing was just theory and training other was to use it to really win the fight. Y/n just took a deep breath and nodded in confirmation.

They started to circle each other, looking for a weak spot to take advantage of. She tried to trip him tackling his legs but he just pushed her back and gave a little laugh. She knew he was playing her, that he could have finished it already but he wanted to see what she had learned. So back at circling she remembered a takedown she read about, trained the movement in front of the mirror many times but never really did it on someone. If she was able to execute it, Azriel wouldn't be expecting it since it was one he never taught her.

Y/n keep a natural stance while moving closer to him. She then gripped his left wrist with her right hand and hooked his left armpit with her left arm. Taking a big step forward, she rotated her body and dropped to her knees between his legs, with her back to him, using the momentum to change Azriel's center of gravity and pull him over her shoulder and onto his back on the mat. He looked so surprised that Y/n kept staring at his face with the biggest smile he has ever seen. He took a second to save that scene in his memory and in the next he dropped her and mounted her waist.

"That was one hell of a takedown, but instead of gloating you should've held me down so I wouldn't get up and take you down" he said looking down and smiling at her.

Y/n was breathless. She didn't know if it was because of the takedown, or of when he caught her off guard after it or because he was sitting on top of her with that smile that melted her every time.

"Hey, are you okay?" He whispered thinking she could be hurt and moved his hand to move her hair away from her face. Lost in his actions, he didn't notice the mischief in her eyes. She hugged his forearm and bumped her hips to the side, making him loose balance and falling on his back again. This time she learned her lesson, before he could close his legs around her hips or get up, Y/n moved fast and mounted him as he did to her minutes ago but now, she held his wrists above his head.

They both were breathing heavy, their noses inches apart, looking at each other's eyes. His eyes moved from hers to her lips and back to her eyes.

"I yield" he breathed against her lips. She threw all control away and kissed him deep and hard. Moving one hand to his hair and the other to the back of his neck she tried to show him through that kiss how much he meant to her, how glad she was to have met him and how she wanted a future with him.

With his arms now free from her grip, Azriel buried with fingers in her hair and his other hand moved to the small of her back. He waited so long for this to happen and to have her kissing him back, gods! He hoped she could feel how in love he was with her, how he never wanted to part from her, have her in his arms all the time would be everything.

Y/n lifted her head a little bit, just enough to look at his face, that's when she felt it. That tug in her heart so strong that made her gasp. The bond snapping into place. She widened her eyes in disbelief. Azriel was her mate.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The shadowsinger asked, noticing the change in her demeanor. He moved his hand from the small of her back to between her shoulder blades and saw when she instantly winced in pain and pushed his arm away, getting up and turning her back to him, ready to leave.

Before she could go, Azriel grabbed her arm, keeping her in place. When she looked at him, her eyes were shining silver with tears. He knew he didn't hurt her back, had mastered enough his fighting skills to be sure of it. The pain must be from a wound badly healed from her time Under the Mountain.

"Please, talk to me" her mate pleaded, "please, I want to help, I want you!" With that, she looked at his hazel eyes and saw all the love he had for her. It was time to trust him with her secrets since her mate always showed himself to be loyal and reliable.

Y/n moved her arm from his grip but didn't walk away, only turned her back to him. When he thought she would ignore him, she started taking her shirt off. Under that she had a spaghetti strapped top and where he touched her back before were scars. The red and twisted tissues were in the same placement of his wings.

"I'm Illyrian, Az. Amarantha severed my wings with her sword after I tried to run away from Under the Mountain years ago" she told, looking at him over her shoulder with tears running down her face. "My father was Rhys' father Illyrian commander. The night Tamlin's family was killed by Rhys dad at Spring Court, my father was there helping them. So Amarantha slaved Rhys and I for our parents part in her ally's death."

Azriel was at loss for words. Y/n had wings once. And they were cut off of her with a sword. The pain she must have felt. It's a wonder she's still alive. He had so many questions but afraid of overstepping he started slow with "that's how you know about Illyrian culture, why you thought I was like them all."

"Yes, I grew up witnessing how females were treated by males in our village. Always being submissive, ready to serve, never fighting back" she told him with rage in her voice. "When I was old enough, my father clipped my wings. Told me it would be easier to marry me to someone this way, as it was a display of submissiveness. He died the same night as Rhys' father, by Tamlin's hands. And when Amarantha came for me, I couldn't fly away and didn't know how to fight to defend myself. So she took me." Her father made her a flightless bird, always caged, never able to feel the wind on her wings ever again.

By now, Y/n was on her knees with her forehead on his chest, the conversation having taken all her strength, while the spymaster kneeled before her, holding her as if he could prevent her from breaking, from falling to pieces.

"After years of serving in Amarantha's bed whenever she felt like it, I tried to run away. It was the best chance I've had in years, I would have made it if I could fly after leaving her court, but with clipped wings I had to walk, that's when the Attor got me" Y/n was sobbing so hard that Azriel was shushing her, caressing her hair and promising he would never anyone hurt her again. She believed him, knew he would burn the world down to keep her safe.

After taking deep breaths to calm herself, she continued, "Amarantha said that clipped wings weren't enough to make me submissive, she would need to try harder. So she grabbed her sword and severed them. I'll never forget the pain I felt that day, the sound of my screams, the blood spilling from my back. After that, she called for Rhysand, told him that his mission was to not let me die of blood loss and left.

"Rhys found a healer and they did the best they could in the conditions presented to them. I survived, but a wound this bad needed better conditions to heal properly, that's why is more sensitive than a normal scar. Madja's already working on it, prescribed some balms and potions to lessen the pain and make it less sensitive but she said it will take a while to be completely painless."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you, all of this! What your father did, the price you paid for his actions, all you suffered before and during Amarantha's reign. I wish you never went through situations were you had to show your strength but going through it all, you were so strong, so brave!" Azriel said with choked voice while holding Y/n face in his hands, touching her forehead with his, drying her tears with his thumbs, caressing her cheek in reassurance. The shadowsinger himself was on the verge of tears, keeping a hold on his emotions while trying to comfort Y/n. "I would do anything to save you from all this suffering, anything" Azriel whispered to her.

Y/n felt so light, having someone to share the burden, someone she trusted, was like having a boulder removed from her chest. And to hear all reassurances he was giving her made her feel so safe and seen. She gripped his face in her hands and kissed him lightly but with so much love that he felt the bond snapping into place right away.

Azriel gasped, opened his eyes and Y/n was staring at him with a smile on her face, eyes rimmed with tears. She gave a tug on the bond and he gasped again, she laughed and said "Can you feel it?"

Her mate just nodded gaping at her. She laughed harder then said "thank the cauldron! I thought I'd have to endure ages until it snapped to you too!"

"You're my mate" he whispered, she nodded. "I've found you... I can't believe it" he was stunned. "When did it- oh, minutes ago when you were looking at me after our kiss!" He realized, dumb struck.

"For a spymaster sometimes you're very clueless, you know?" She said giggling. "I've been giving you clues about how I feel about you, flirting and spending as much time as I could with you. Mates or not, I've been in love with you for a while now."

Azriel was dreaming, he was sure of it. No way this was real, it was too good to be truth. Y/n was his mate and was in love with him. He never thought he was deserving of a mate, much less deserving of her and here they were, mates and in love. The Mother blessed him with the greatest gift.

"Looks like you bested me this" he said smiling, then cupped her jaw to to lift her face and capture her eyes and said "I will protect you with my life. I'd die and kill for you."

Y/n knew he was speaking the truth because she could feel through the bond and also that's how she felt about him. Knowing all he has been through since a child, she would die and kill to keep him safe.

Her lover, her mate, her Azriel.

[beatingheart-bride]

"I didn't have anything in particular planned," Philippe admitted as he and Susannah exited the cafe and began to roam the town's streets, taking in the unfamiliar sights as they passed them. "I figured we could explore a little, and see what catches our eye."

Save for their destination, Philippe hadn't planned their trip very meticulously, not wishing to do away with the spontaneity of it. There was something so invigorating about being able whatever they wanted, whenever they wished: he'd wished to embrace that as much as possible, and as such, had opted to eschew planning every minute detail. This trip was best spent living in the moment, and to diligently plan everything would've done them a disservice, he felt.

"If we need help deciding, I'm sure we could ask around for suggestions: the locals would have to know which restaurants in town are most worth visiting."

@beatingheart-bride

Susannah suppressed a chuckle through her mug at the mention of the dreaded citrus and mint combination-another mistake she made in her youth that she had never forgotten, and for good reason! Still, it was nice to know she and Philippe were in a similar boat in that regard, these little mishaps with less-than-pleasant flavor combinations...

The chime of the clock brought her out of her reverie, and so she was quick to drain her mug. As lovely as a cup of freshly brewed coffee was, it did not a dinner make, and so she rose to join him, her newly-caffeinated stomach now alive with butterflies as she shyly linked arms with him, looking like any other couple one would find on the street.

Where will we go for dinner? she wondered to herself, as they exited the cafe and headed back out onto the street, to get a further lay of the land. Obviously, both of them were plenty familiar with Southern comfort food and good ol' Creole cuisine, and of course, he was as familiar with French fare as she was with Irish, but she wondered...would they go with what they knew, or would they shake it up? She supposed, since they were on vacation, it wouldn't hurt to be daring and try something new...

"Anything in mind?" she asked him curiously as they walked along together-perhaps, in his planning for this vacation, he found an excellent restaurant he was excited to try with her!

[natasha-in-space]

I think not nearly enough people comprehend just how messed up Rika's and V's relationships truly was, actually. It is so easy to get hyperfocused on the big climax of their toxic obsession: the cult, the physical violence, and the secrets. But, like... You ever actually sit down and think about the sheer fact that V looked at Rika: a hurt, traumatized girl, terrified of being her true self, desperate for love she didn't even have a clear idea of in her own mind, safe for some very vague feeling she deemed to be 'love', and... He saw beauty in it. He was never malicious about it, nor did he even realize it fully, not until MC came into his life and pushed him into reevaluating his own worth as well as his views on what love truly is. But, at the time, he saw all that hidden pain and trauma in her, and he saw beauty in it. He was intrigued by it. It fascinated him. He desired to transform it into something even more stunning with his own two hands, analogous to an artist fixing his next big masterpiece. And she was his masterpiece. One he would paint and bend and mold into something he knew he wanted to achieve. It wasn't even a want, it was a craving. Not really knowing that he was just so racked with guilt and self-hatred after his mother's death, that he was merely trying to prove himself to no one but his own troubled and scared mind. To prove to himself that he could be an artist, and that he really could love like the sun. That he could save someone this time around, instead of losing them. Because, truth is, he could never be an artist, not in the way his soul truly longed for.

Rika was both his muse and his creation at the same time.

That's why he never encouraged her to get the help she desperately needed if she didn't want to do it herself. That's why he never got involved in any extreme ways until it became far too difficult for him to handle. That's why he told her time and time again that she was beautiful and perfect just the way she is, even when she herself would doubt and be deeply disturbed by his eager willingness to sink into the deepest of lows for her.

In a way, neither of them truly knew each other. It's a fact that they cared for each other at one point in time. But they didn't see each other as equal individuals to grow and change alongside. For Rika, V was her sun she adored and loathed all the same. He was not a person, he was just an anchor that kept her steady and a cruel reminder of all she could never be. For V, Rika was his canvas to pour his locked away feelings onto. She was not a person, she was a living proof of his ability to create and love in a way he desperately craved.

And in the end, that destroyed and scarred both of them. Not only them, but also many completely innocent individuals who were caught in the crossfire.

What a big, complicated, and horrible mess these two are.

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part EIGHT!!!

HOLD onto your hats people this is a long one!!! Please let me know if you’re enjoying this guys – your comments absolutely make my day and make these sleepless nights writing this completely worth it!!

“Enjoy your shower, Y/n. We will see you after it, we have much to discuss” he crooned at you. Smirk growing when your gaze narrowed. Yanking your wrist out of his grip you stepped away. Winking as he disappeared when the elevator doors shut you released a nervous breath. Facing the other Overlord who was eyeing you up, displeased with what she was seeing she tutted at you.

“You gotta learn to step away when things go boom babe, blood is not kind to your clothes! Come on, lets get you cleaned up”, she slips her hand into yours pulling you through a living room and into a massive bathroom. Wait … she’s not gonna clean you right?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Thankfully (or not depending on your view) Velvette left you alone in the shower, just popping a towel and some clothes on the side before whisking herself off out of the room but not before giving you a cheeky wink and promising next time she’ll help wash your back.

Red faced you stood in the stream of hot water – scrubbing viciously at your skin to remove the blood splatters and stains from the alabaster skin. You would enjoy the smell of the blackberry and pomegranate shower scrub you were using but you were too focused on the conversation that was going to occur as soon as you got out of this bathroom. Debating on whether you could hide in here forever, you figured probably not. Well, you could try but knowing the three Vee’s one of them would break down the door and fetch you.

Lathering up your hair with the shampoo you watch the bubbles drop down at your feet: a mixture of pinks and reds. Ick, was all that blood in your hair? You didn’t dare look at yourself in the mirror when you walked in. Scared of what you would see. It had been so long since you had last used your shriek that you nearly forgot the carnage that came with it. There should be a splash zone warning. Shampooing once more to make sure all the blood was out of it you then condition it, hoping the blood hadn’t stained your hair. That would suck!

Taking your sweet ass time in the shower you had washed every single piece of skin, hair and scrubbed all your nails and huffed. You couldn’t put off getting out any longer. If you did it would just be your lucky for one of them to pick the lock and come get you, naked or not. Wrapping the fluffy towel around your body you wipe the steam from the mirror and observe the tired look on your own face. Glad to see the makeup had thankfully come off with the scrubbing you had done in the shower you suddenly felt more naked. When you had your makeup on it was like a mask you could hide behind. No hiding now. You wrap your hair up in the small towel then dry the rest of your body off.

Let’s see what clothes Velvette had left you. Frowning at the bra and underwear you grumbled under your breath. How the fuck did she know your size? Taking the new tags off them (why would she have new ones in your size anyway?) you slide them on grudgingly, course they fit like a glove. A black short sleeved t-shirt and high waisted black cargo pants were next – fitting again perfectly but at least they weren’t revealing. Or not revealing in the sense you were showing skin, but the t-shirt clung to you as a second skin and the pants followed the curve of your waist over your hips making your hourglass figure pop. You had to give props Velvette, even her casual outfits looked cute. You wonder if you could order more of these off her? Looking around for your blood-soaked clothes and boots you realised they weren’t in the bathroom anymore. Did you miss her coming in? What the hell? Wriggling your blackened toes on the cold tile you worried your bottom lip.

Shaking your drying hair out of the towel you give it a quick brush with a spare hairbrush you found on the side, slicking it back from your face. Catching sight of yourself in the mirror you give a fierce scowl. Come on Y/n! When have you ever been afraid to face anyone? Well … apart from Alastor but that Radio Demon had a reputation for eating people!

Done with the pity party you ready to leave the bathroom, steeling yourself. Grasping the door handle you take a deep breath in and out and then leave the safety of the room. Here goes nothing.

Grateful that they had carpet instead of tiles you let your feet lead you down the hallway to the living room that Velvette had dragged you through before. Heart pounding more and more with each step you try and breathe steadily. If you faint before you even get to the living room somehow you doubt the Vee’s would ever let you forget it.

Entering the living room, you see all three of them sat down, Vox and Velvette on the sofa and Valentino on his own in a purple and gold armchair (though ‘throne’ should have been a more apt description) all on their phones and murmuring to each other every so often. It would be quite a homey docile scene if your dead heart didn’t feel like it was about to keel over. Quietly clearing your throat, you gain their attention. Vox and Velvette’s head twist sideways to look at you while Valentino peeks over his shoulder with a flirtatious smile: “Princessa finally, we thought we were going to have to come get you”.

“Sorry about that, it seemed the blood just didn’t want to get out of my hair” you chuckled, pushing back the nerves you take a few more steps into the room lion’s den. Vox motioned to another armchair that was placed in front of the TV, you would be the focus of the three. Great.

You calmly walk to the armchair, not wanting them to know how nervous you were. The cushions sunk a little as you sat down, if you weren’t facing these three you would happily sink into this chair. It had to be one of the most comfortable things you’ve ever sat on. Crossing your legs you place your hands in your lap, back straight and head turned so you could see all of them. Time to get serious.

“So?” You start, looking questioningly at Vox – who was sat in the middle – as you were sure he was the one that would lead this conversation. His responding smile was almost shark-like. And Hell, didn’t it get your motors running. Wait no. Bad Y/n FOCUS!

“So y/n, before you had to run off and wash off all that – uh – blood you were going to confess how you killed those sinners with only a small cut to show for it”. Eyebrow raising in question, if you knew he wasn’t a manipulative bastard you’d have believed that his tone was kind. Hmm. To lie or tell the truth. What to do.

“I exploded their brains causing their entire head to detonate like a watermelon” you explain with a deadpan expression. Truth it is then. Your amusement rose when they all looked at you with shocked faces. Where was a camera when you needed one.

“You … uh you what?” Allowing a small smirk on your lips you make eye contact with Vox. Yeah, not so smug now are ya.

“I raised my voice to such a high frequency that it vibrated their brains so much that they exploded, thus causing their skulls to detonate into millions of pieces – so messy but oh so effective, don’t cha think?” you thoroughly explained, keeping the eye contact with the TV Demon. Your smirk growing larger when you observed him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Good. You hoped he was thinking what would happen to him if you used your shriek. A flicker down his body told you he was enjoying whatever thought had occurred to him.

“Princessa? You are saying you killed these sinners with just your voice?” Turning your attention to the Moth Overlord, you smile prettily at him.

“Yes”. Simply put. “Didn’t Vox show you the footage?” Tilting your head as you question them. The sharp looks the two gave Vox gave you a little bit of satisfaction. Sheepishly holding his hands up as if he was innocent, he shook his head.

“I was just waiting for Y/n to give me approval to show you both”, narrowing your eyes it took everything in you to hold in the snort of amusement. When does he ever wait for anyone’s approval to share anything?

You motion with your hand for him to show them the video footage, tearing your gaze away to focus on the bookcase across the room when you see his screen flicker starting the video. You might not be able to see it but the sounds were enough to make you flinch – thankful when you started to shriek Vox muted the sound. You don’t think you’d live much longer if by rewatching the scene you accidentally explode the Vee’s brains. Though Alastor would be forever in your debt. Hmm…

At the clearing of a throat, you turn your attention back to them. Velvette looked impressed, Valentino amused and Vox … well he looked like you were a shiny new toy that he really wanted to play with.

“Well babe, I knew you had fire in you but girl!” Velvette was the first to break the silence as she laughed. Somehow that put you a bit at ease. You weren’t sure how they other two would react but amusement you could deal with.

“What? You didn’t think I was just a pretty face now did ya?” a quick wink towards her made her laugh more. Valentino joined in, smoke billowing from his cigarette.

After a few moments they settled, both their gazes shifting to Vox who was sat in the middle with his arms crossed and a mischievous smile on his screen. That can’t be good for you.

“The only thing now is, what do we do with the footage?” He asked, eyebrows quirking at you. Steeling yourself you lean your elbows on your knees. Here was the tricky bit. How to convince him to not show the footage but making it seem like it was his idea.  

“I suppose that is up to you Vox, I’d ask if you could delete it but that’s your footage and your decision now” you reply simply. You weren’t going to beg. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. A flicker of surprise flashed across his screen before he narrowed his eyes at you.

“And if I decided to share it with our adoring public?” He asked, thinking he had that over you. The fact you kept your private life completely out of your social media – no one knew what you did privately which obviously did not go unnoticed with Vox. You didn’t give out where you lived, not who you were before hell and not even your favourite drink unless you personally gave that information out online, every single post, message and picture had a reasoning and motivation behind it. You built your life in hell on only showing one side of you: the sexy bimbo who had a good set of lungs for singing. A piece of eye candy. Someone people weren’t afraid of talking in front of as they didn’t think you’d remember or understand what they were saying. The release of this footage could ruin that image. If the public realised that you had power in your voice you might not get any more jobs. Demons and sinners would fear your singing. You could lose all the hard work you’ve put into lying under the radar. All that hard work slowly climbing up the ladder gaining more and more power.

But if you kept it quiet, if it wasn’t shown and the Vee’s used it as a way to get you into a deal then you would be under their wing. Under their power. And you were really tired of being in the shadow of other Overlords.

“I suppose then the public would hear my real voice – my persona and image I have put out has served me well. But, with demons and sinners knowing that it takes only one moment of hearing my shriek to drown them in their own blood that will gain me more respect, fear and power. You are probably doing me a favour actually” you muse, tapping your chin with your blackened finger. Pretending to consider the possibility of what you just said, a sadistic smile broke across your lips.

It grew when you saw Vox’s expression darken, another flicker down his body you were surprised to see something making an appearance in his trousers. Pocketing that piece of information away for later, you raise an eyebrow at him. His move. Velvette and Valentino looking between you both, giving each other a malicious grin. After a few moments he raised his phone that was in his hand. Clicking a few buttons before putting it down on the arm of the sofa. Shit. Had he sent it out to the rest of Hell?

A harsh buzzing on the coffee table in the middle of you all made you glance down. Your phone! Seeing a notification from Vox light up the screen – since when did you have his number? You grab it, clicking on the notification it comes up with the video file. Had he sent it to you?

Your gaze back up on the smirking TV Demon, arms laying on the back of the sofa he was fully relaxed: “oh don’t worry my little Songbird, you are the only person in Hell with that video now.” Confused you place your phone back on the table. Wait what? Wasn’t he going to use it to blackmail you into making a deal? He laughed as you carried on staring at him. “Did you think I was going to try and force you into a deal y/n?” Nodding at the obvious answer, he just laughed more. “No, not this time. You’ve managed to surprise me, not many have achieved that. I want to see what else you have hidden behind those lovely violet eyes of yours before I claim your soul”, his eyes darkened again while his voice deepened with static at the end. Biting your lip, you push the blush away that wanted to burst out on your cheeks. Breath y/n.

Least you knew his angle now.  Nodding to him, you look to the other two who had been suspiciously quiet. “I don’t suppose you’d mind keeping this to yourselves as well, would you?” You ask them, hoping they’d agree.

Velvette smirked at you before rolling her eyes: “babes, happy to keep it quiet for now but as soon as you wanna tell people you’ve gotta let me design the outfit you are gonna wear! I’m thinking Siren – all out mankiller outfit, yea? Lemme get some designs drawn up!” She was up and out of her seat before you could even blink. Amused, you let your gaze go to the smoking Moth Overlord. His tinted glasses made it a little hard to read him. Unless he was shouting or flirting you couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. You could see why him and Vox were a couple.

After a few more puffs of his cigarette, he shrugged his shoulders with a playful grin. “My lips are sealed here, mi cariño. Knowing you have that gorgeous scream that could kill makes me think of all sorts of ideas – you’d be surprised how many have a kink where they want their partner to kill them”. Pretty sure your eyebrows have been lost in your hairline.

“Really?” the question escaped your lips before you could do anything to stop it. Leaning forwards in his chair, smoke blowing towards you his smile grew making his gold tooth flash in the light.

“Yes, my Princessa … would you like me to show you some vi”-

“-no, no that’s fine thank you!” You interrupted him, not able to hide the blush this time making his and Vox’s smile grow wickedly.

“So shy when we speak about sex, amore, you make me curious” ooh it is definitely time to go now! Chuckling nervously, you brush it off and make a show of looking around.

“Don’t suppose you guys know where my clothes and boots went do ya?” Are you changing the subject? You betcha!

Taglist: @tasha-1994  @azullynxx  @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

BSD Dead Apple manga highlights!!

Kunikida is insane. "Oh yeah getting shot in the gut is no big deal dwai" and then he proceeds to run around and fight both his own Ability and Demon Snow after this. Jesus.

Kunikida's so resourceful tbh. I love watching him fight. Akutagawa's later fight with Rashoumon (where he demonstrates similar resourcefulness using the molten metal) is also cool for the same reason, because like it's one thing to be TOLD these characters are cool under pressure and smart as long as Dazai's not there to piss them off and a whole other to be shown it.

SO THIS CONFIRMS MY THEORY. I need a fight scene where Yosano detaches her limbs and uses them as weapons after she heals them omg she's so fucking badass. Side note the fact that Kenji and Yosano held up so long against their Abilities is so impressive? Like all of them are ofc but Undefeated and Thou Shalt Not Die are both like, extremely powerful. Your fighting a power that rearranged a mountain and a power that basically can't be killed. Like damn.

Lmfao Akutagawa's main priority is watching their Abilities fight each other

D A S H

I love how casually he says this lmfaoo Also LMAO AKUTAGAWA DO U HAVE SOME UNRESOLVED FEELINGS TOWARDS DAZAI OR SOMETHING?? HMM??

Confirmation Dazai fucking hates both of them. He was probably tearing his hair out internally this whole time. Literally him going "friendless behavior" at Shibusawa lmao- ALSO THE 'MEOW EXCHANGE. HE ACTUALLY MEOWED. THIS IS SO FUCKING DRY LMFAO.

Akutagawa's monologue is conveyed in a really cool way via manga adaptation... like DA has some great development for Akutagawa, Kyouka and Atsushi, but Akutagawa's in particular stands out to me because it doesn't really disprove his strength-based worldview?? He finds his own self worth through that view instead which is interesting, by overpowering his Ability instead of finding somewhere he's valued beyond it like say, Yosano.

This is also SUCH an interesting panel. "That I control Demon Snow/That I didn't want to hate her" it's like Atsushi has previously only seen Kyouka as a victim, as being controlled against her will and never wanting any of the violence she partook in when this kinda... confirms it's not all the case? DA as a whole kinda tries to break Atsushi's black and white worldview but I also think, between this and how well Akutagawa and Kyouka work together in DA, there was likely a part of Kyouka who knew she was good at killing and violence, and liked that about herself, if nothing else. The ability to not be completely helpless, even if her circumstances as a whole were not within her control.

"Are you fucking serious" he is SO DONE with Dazai's shit lmfao.

Soukoku are fucking insane. What do you MEAN you noticed Dazai's hidden message from a mention of a microscope. What do you mean you remember all your interactions with him that clearly. What do you mean-

Ohh my fucking god is that a tear in the last panel?? Oh my god did Chuuya mean he just doesn't want Dazai to stop him in Corruption. Chuuya cannot catch a fucking BREAK oh my god.

So Ango is also suicidal right?? Like sure he has a reason for saying this but also this is not a normal thing to say. He uses Chuuya's vow to kill him to try and stop Chuuya from what he sees as a suicidal mission later. Like this is not normal.

"Dazai doesn't care about the ADA!" shut the fuck up

Oh my god. This was so fucked up oh my god. Poor baby Atsushi oh my god.

The repetition of "I raised by claws" is SO chilling here omg. But I also find it so so interesting that I think Atsushi is... the only BSD character who just... wants to live. Not for other people, he definitely doesn't want to die. Like so many characters in BSD (Dazai, Yosano, Chuuya, Kunikida, Kyouka, Ango, arguably Akutagawa) are in some manner suicidal, or even the ones who aren't have reasons they life for. But Atsushi's base desire is just... he wants to live. That's where his Ability comes from. It's why he killed Shibusawa. It's so interesting.

So there are two sides to Fyodor's Ability. But he CALLS HIMSELF crime in this case?? Bc the Crime avatar is wearing what Fyodor was wearing. I've seen theories Fyodor himself is just the manifestation of his own Ability or something and tbh... that might have merit.

Tbh, I often wonder how Ango ended up working with the government. It's repeatedly mentioned how he dislikes and opposes their use of human lives as value metrics, or plans like this for the 'greater good', and yet he still does their bidding. He's still here. Even though no one listens to his oppositions. Why?

Anyway so if anyone has manga translations past Ch 13 please help I can't find any lol.

[coraniaid]

My most self-indulgent headcanon is that, when Buffy died in The Gift, she didn't actually go to heaven (something which the show is otherwise quite vague about existing at all, considering Giles and Buffy's various comments about religion over the course of the show) but rather to the same place we know at least one past Slayer ended up after her death: the shared subconscious of the active Slayer.

We see Sineya, the First Slayer, in Buffy's dreams in Restless and it's at least strongly implied by Graduation Day and This Year's Girl that Faith and Buffy have also been sharing dreams for at least a year, ever since Buffy stabbed Faith.

So my take -- which, granted, has no real support from canon at all -- is that being the Slayer works a bit like being the Avatar in Avatar: The Last Airbender. Every Slayer has the memories (or the ghost or the soul or whatever you want to call it) of all her predecessors locked somewhere in the depths of her own mind, and in extreme cases -- like the Scoobies spell to call on the First Slayer in Primeval, or two Slayers both being alive together but one falling into a coma -- it's possible for her to get in touch with them directly.

Buffy herself already died once, so a part of her was linked to Kendra and then, when Kendra died, that part passed on to Faith.

Part of the reason I like this theory -- beyond being an inveterate Fuffy shipper, which I guess you can take as a given -- is that Buffy's description of being in "heaven" doesn't really make much sense to me if we assume she's right about where she ended up. She tells Spike in After Life that she felt "complete" and "at peace" because "[she] knew that everyone [she] cared about was all right". But we, the audience, know that everyone Buffy cared about wasn't all right at all. Her sister, her Watcher, her friends: they were all miserable and heartbroken and, without a Slayer around, everyone in Sunnydale was in imminent danger of a violent death.' Surely any heaven worth the name can manage better than deluding the dead into thinking that everything is going well when it isn't?

But suppose that my theory is right, and that after she died Buffy really ended up buried somwhere in Faith's subconcious. We know -- and in Season 7 Faith herself will admit -- that Faith has always had a very romanticized, idealized view of Buffy's life, envying Buffy for her mother and her friends and her Watcher and not seeing (or choosing not to see) that everything isn't quite so perfect for Buffy after all.

If Buffy were to find herself somewhere in in the depths of Faith's mind, of course she'd think she was happy and warm and loved and everything was going well for her friends and family. Of course she'd think she was in heaven. As far as Faith was concerned, Buffy always was.

[rwbyrg]

i need to talk about the epilogue again. i need to talk about how Oscar wishes so desperately that he was more like Ruby... while being a near mirror image of her and not even realizing it.

"If there was anything I wish I could borrow from you Ruby, it would be your certainty. You always believed things would work out... up until the moment they didn't."

Says boy who is certain Ruby and her team are not gone forever. Someone who has been working tirelessly to find an answer on how to bring them home. Who believes they'll find a way back to Remnant, to Vacuo, to him, because he hasn't been given enough reason to prove him otherwise.

How very Treasure of him. How very Ruby of him.

"You always believed in the best. Saw people for who they really were..."

Says boy who saw Emerald and Hazel as people who didn't want to cause harm in the ways they had been. Who saw Ironwood's fear and knew it was his weakness. Says Oscar Pine, who has always seen all of Ruby - her strengths and her faults in equal measure. Who questioned how she was able to handle the weight of all these struggles because he - correctly - believed that it was too much for someone in her position to carry. Says boy who, moments after singing her praises about how she "must have been one of the best huntresses at Beacon", also holds space for her humanity, her limits, and sees "how hard this must be on her too". "Man I wish I was better at understanding the people around me" (paraphrased) says only character that clocked how much Ruby was struggling four volumes before anyone else did.

But while he can see these virtues in others... he struggles to recognize these qualities within his own character. When it requires looking inward.

"You always believed in the best. Saw people for who they really were. Some of us... don't know anymore."

Oscar says this despite how he has always acted in the ways that were truest to his values, beliefs, and character; despite Ozpin's influence or any obstacles that tried to get in his way. He says this - lamenting about how he wishes he were more like Ruby - while doing, saying, and believing things that she herself does, says, and is. Including the very things he is praising her for!!

Now, why does that sound familiar? Oh. Oh right. Because Ruby herself is the same way. How she, just like Oscar, is so unbelievably good - both of them wanting to be heroes, who help others, and want to become the best versions of themselves they can be, thanks in large part to the role models that came before them - and yet neither of them can recognize or give themselves enough credit for the things they do right!! The things they appreciate, admire, and learned from those who've inspired them!!

Ruby spends all of Volume 9 doubting herself. She doubts her actions, her choices, her failures. She questions her identity, who she is, and who she wants to be. Compares herself to the heroes from fairytales - an ideal she can never live up to. She questions and doubts her own worth because no matter how hard she tries, she is never enough in her eyes.

And just like Oscar, a fault she sees in herself is something that she acknowledges and praises in him. When she tries so hard to do the right thing, she believes she may have just caused more harm than good. She views herself as worthless. But when Oscar laments the same fear and worry to her in Atlas - that he was foolish to think Ironwood would listen, that every choice he made was the wrong one - she reassures him that he did the best he could, and that she's just glad he's okay. That simply having tried at all is what matters most. That it's enough.

Lastly, can we talk about the poetry of this setup? Can we talk about how Ruby has spent nine volumes slowly breaking under the pressure of her responsibility, and this last season believing she isn't, and never will be, enough... while Oscar Pine stands a world a part from her and speaks about how much he values her? How much he treasures who she is and the things she's done? How Ruby wishes she wasn't herself anymore, but Oscar Pine - who is having his own identity robbed from him - says that if he could be like anyone in the whole world, if he had the choice to decide the kind of person he could be, then he'd choose to be a bit like Ruby Rose? If that wasn't too much to ask for?

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Something I find interesting when viewing the two recent Dune movies as a whole is that initially, Paul is more than willing to use the prophecy and his visions for his own gain to convince Liet to help them, while Jessica whispers "careful!" at his side, and she later recommends they leave the planet entirely. But Paul decides they'll stay with the Fremen. Even at the beginning of Part 2, Paul is like "fuck yeah let's wage war on the Harkonnen" and Jessica is again counseling caution: "your father didn't believe in revenge." She goes through the Water of Life ceremony not because she wants to help Paul fulfill the prophecy but because she's forced to: do this or die. And even then, the old Reverend Mother had to use the Voice on her to get Jessica to drink.

That all changes when Jessica nearly dies during the ceremony. After that, Paul becomes more wary of embracing the prophecy, and she just throws herself into it. Paul nearly loses his mother (and his unborn sister) to a painful, agonizing poison - mere hours/days after losing his father and all their friends/allies to the Harkonnen slaughter - and decides it's not worth it. Meanwhile, Jessica gets a direct download of memories of millennia of oppression and goes "yeah let's burn everything to the ground."

It's an interesting, quick reversal at the beginning of the second movie, and it's great.

Ooh thank you for this great ask. I can always count on you for smart and thoughtful Jessica takes!

You make a really good observation about their reversal of positions--I had been struggling to figure out how Paul's line about "I must sway the non-believers" fit into his overall arc, but you are absolutely right that this feels like a continuation of how he talks to Liet. We're seeing the first stirrings of that little "maybe I am special" thought that later takes center stage.

For most of Part Two, Paul has several reliable counterweights pulling against that streak of arrogance and high-handedness that he's had from the beginning. Jessica almost dies drinking the Water of Life, which, like you point out, has got to make him think twice about encouraging people to believe in the prophecy. Then, he spends most of the movie surrounded by Chani and her friends and comrades, who seem the most skeptical of the prophecy and also aren't going to give his ego the time of day. And at the same time, he has an opportunity to pour his desire for revenge into collective political action that seems to be making a difference.

It's only when those countervailing forces start collapsing (the people who had started out as his equals are now becoming his followers; the Harkonnens attack Sietch Tabr and other civilian population centers, proving they are far from militarily defeated; Gurney shows up and immediately offers what seems like an easy solution to their problems that only Paul can access) that the little maybe I am special voice starts winning again.

As for Jessica, her journey doesn't get as much focus in the movie but it's also fascinating. She's a great character because she is so fucking smart at navigating power structures from what seems like an unenviable position. Did she have any choice about being sent to Caladan to become Leto's concubine? I am guessing she did not. But she sure figured out how to work that situation to her advantage. It happened that along the way she and Leto came to genuinely love and respect each other. But I'm sure she would still have figured out an angle even if that had not been the case.

In Part Two she starts out in a frankly quite terrifying position: she can undergo this unknown, dangerous ritual or die, and also possibly put Paul's safety at risk by raising doubt about whether he is the Lisan al-Gaib. But after she survives the Water of Life, she is launched into a powerful position in Fremen society and pretty quickly realizes she can use that to both protect Paul and get her revenge on the people who tried to kill her whole family. And unlike Paul, she is much more cognizant of the intergalactic power structures at work and aware that the Harkonnens themselves were a pawn in all this, so her target is the Bene Gesserit and the emperor.

I would have loved more time to explore Jessica's relationship to Fremen society and her POV in general. Because in some ways she becomes as Fremen as it's possible for her to be--she has access to thousands of years of memories of Fremen history and culture and politics; she becomes instantly fluent in the language and she is immersed in Fremen daily life in the sietch. (If there's one single thing I wanted more of, it was daily life in the sietch.) But she's still the same person she was, so she hasn't lost that ability to be ruthless and calculating and see people as forces to be manipulated. In Part One, her love for Paul and Leto provided an interesting counterweight to this that allowed us to see some moments of vulnerability from her (ie. she knows Paul has to undergo the Gom Jabbar test but she's terrified for him while it's happening). In Part Two she is so isolated for most of the movie (away from Paul; surrounded by followers who were never friends; I think we can all agree that talking to your unborn fetus doesn't really count) that we don't get a lot of these more unguarded moments from her. (I would have loved some Jessica/Stilgar action and it seems like the potential was very much set up for that, but I understand why they didn't have time.)

But in general I thought they did a great job of setting up this contradictory tension between Jessica and Paul, where they both want so desperately to protect each other and they both want revenge, but the way they each go about it ends up putting them in direct conflict with each other.

[torchwood-99]

"her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on"

I love you Gandalf. He just gets it.

The sexism that blighted Eowyn's life, that came from the hands not from enemies but loved ones, reduced her and cut her down to fit her into a box, until Eowyn didn't even feel like a person anymore. And Eomer, when it's spelled out to him, goes back and looks at their life together differently, and realises the wrong that's been done to her.

She was a tool, something to be leant on and used, to provide support for the men's desires and the men's ambitions and the men's glory, with no will of her own.

Her family loved her, but they saw her as what they would have her be, viewing her through the lens of what they believe women to be instead of seeing Eowyn (and women as a whole) for herself, instead of recognising her as her own being with own merit and skills.

It's that thing of sexism not only making women less equal, but less human.

They are a tool, a service. They are a monolith, a group assigned to perform certain roles, valued for performing those roles (to an extent) but not actually individuals, with individuals thoughts and hopes and skills and dreams. Not to the same extent as men.

And because these are the roles they're meant to serve, there's no injustice, no tragedy of lost potential and missed opportunities, because as women they don't have that potential and they don't need those opportunities.

It's no wonder Eowyn wanted to die in battle. Going to battle, riding out against the orders of all those who caged her in, that was her regaining control of her life, a life that seemed to be no life, because she was no real living person. Just a staff to be leant on. And in going to battle, when she has been told not to, in making a choice for herself, she reclaims her humanity. But she's been so broken down that she thinks the only way to avoid going back to being an object is to die in battle.

Faramir doesn't treat her like an object. He treats her like a person, one similar to him. He sees her worth and merit and he admires her strength and her deeds while also feeling compassion for her suffering. After Faramir meets her, he seeks out Merry, to try and find out about her, instead of making presumptions about her based on her sex.

Faramir bothers, he takes the effort to find out who Eowyn is, instead of deciding for her.

And Merry, who rode to war with her and also sees her who she is, helps. No wonder he and Eowyn, though parted by distance, remain great friends and Eowyn adores him.

But Eowyn doesn't just get a happy ending from having a man in her life who treats her decently.

Tolkien makes a point to have Eowyn not just declare herself as choosing to live to be Faramir's wife, it's not a case of unhappy feminist who wants to be like a boy but is finally happy when she "accepts femininity" and finds a good man to protect her.

She says she will be a healer. Faramir has spoken nothing of that. It's not a role he has chosen for her or he's taking on and she's going to do to help him. They will be married and support each other and share a life, but she will also be her own seperate person.

It's a role that she's chosen for herself, without orders or pressure from anybody else. A role that will put her strength and her wits and her stomach iron to good use, and means she won't have to wait until battle to feel alive. A role that is seen as a mark of leadership, for the greatest leaders in Middle Earth, men and women, are also healers.

This such an important arc, and it really is incredible of Tolkien to write it.

A woman who has had her own goals and skills overlooked in favour of how she can serve men, who has been kept locked in the home to tend to her family's needs with no relief or chance to go out and live life on her terms.

Who is beloved by her family, who are good people, yet still mistreated because sexism is just part and parcel of her world and even well meaning people take part in it.

A woman whose humanity has been diminished at the hands of her loved ones because of sexism and gender roles.

A woman who proves the naysayers wrong by riding out to battle, bringing along Merry who has also been left behind, and proving herself pivotal to the victory.

A woman who only finds hope for the future when she is ceased to be treated as a useful object, when she forges bonds with Merry and Faramir who don't see her as a staff for the men to walk on, nor a faulty one who keeps trying to run off on its own and needs to be brought back, but as an individual with her own hopes and failings and dreams and skills, not defined by what the patriarchy says a woman's role is.

A when she does find hope for life again, she does so not only in finding love and friendship and camaraderie, but in a vocation that will be her own, in a career that will give her own her role in the world, a role that is associated with leadership, and leadership in her own right, not as an adjunct of her husband's.

And this is how she gets her happy ending. From love (Faramir), friendship (Merry), understanding (Eomer, looking at Eowyn anew in the House of Healing) and through independence (becoming a Healer). This is how she gets a happy ending, because this is how she reclaims her personhood.

[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[wilcze-kudly]

While mostly find Kuvira a relatively straightforward character, I do love how the theme of rejection is just so ingrained into her character.

Of course we have Kuvira herself experiencing what many would call the cruellest rejection possible, being literally given away by her own biological parents.

Kuvira: [She angrily turns her head toward Korra as the shot cuts to a wide view.] Don't pretend you know what it felt like! [Wildly, waving her free arm.] The Avatar is adored by millions! I was cast aside by my own parents like I meant nothing to them.

We also see that, while Kuvira is invited with a lot of love by Su, who clearly is open to taking Kuvira into her family, Kuvira clearly didn't feel like part of the family. It isn't exactly concrete why this is the case. We can be certain that Opal, who was most likely working through her own issues surrounding not being a bender and feeling that Suyin is replacing her.

I know it's very easy to theorise that Kuvira was somehow isolated and ostracised from the Beifongs and while I can see this being the case, I haven't seen many people talk about just how avoidant Kuvira herself is.

I mean, Kuvira was horrifically rejected by the people she was meant to unconditionally trust and rely on. As a child who doesn't exactly understand why this is happening to her and that it wouldn't happen again, what better way to defend yourself if you reject them before they can reject you.

I think Bolin hit the nail on the head here. (When will we get a Bolin Kuvira argument i need it in my life)

Kuvira fears rejection. She struggles to form proper relationships, even her one intimate relationship with Baatar Jr had a certain amount of.... padding? If you know what I mean.

I don't doubt that Kuvira had a lot of affection for Baatar. I just think that she still kept a healthy dose of diatance in her relationship with him.

Her relationship with Baatar Jr is actually really fun. It sort of mirrors Kuvira's own childhood disillusionment with relationships.

Baatar also suffers a brutal rejection from someone. Kuvira, the woman he loved, and to some extent, for whom he abandoned all previous relationships tries to kill him. Directly after he pours his heart out to her and and restates his love for her. And now it's him isolating himself, particularly from Kuvira, even when she does try to reach out. (I do giggle at how much Kuvira gets consistently swerved in the comics)

The parasocial relationship Kuvira fosters with her Empire is also worth taking into consideration. Kuvira obviously is projecting her own childhood trauma onto the entire damn country which is my fave part of her character because who does that lol.

I've mentioned this in my comparison of the Earth Empire and Russia in the throes of Stalinism but I wouldn't be surprised if Kuvira cultivating a cult of personality to bolster her leadership is also her attempting to build connections that she deems "safe".

She holds the power in these relationships, she's basically a celebrity and if someone does step out of line, they are betraying not Kuvira, but the Nation. Postulating herself as an untouchable emperess also, once again, allows her a certain level of distance from others.

I'm not sure if Kuvira is aware she's perpetuating her own loneliness. I wanna say yes, because when she is alone, she acknowledges to herself that Suyin indeed was there for her and that she can rely on her. But she's so good at manipulating and gaslighting that she may have tricked herself fully into believing she's the victim, like she had with her warcrimes at the beginning of RotE.

All in all, I think Kuvira is a very interesting character if not one that is simply putting an slightly new spin on tried and true tropes. I will say I find it quite odd how many people take what she says without a second thought when she clearly has a vested interest in lying, but she is very charismatic and fun to analyse lol.

[sequinsmile-x]

Receiving & Giving Gifts

Five times the team witness Aaron & Emily's gift-giving skills, and one time they didn't.

The final part of my series of unrelated oneshots, each one dedicated to one of the five main Love Languages.

-x-

Hi friends,

Hope you are all okay!

This one massively got away from me, shock horror I know, and is based on an ask I got about a fic with the team point of view when Aaron and Emily buy each other things, with a focus on the fact Emily is rich af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: pregnancy, a LOT of fluff

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Dave

Dave liked to pretend he knew they were together from the start.

Emily always called him out on it. She’d roll her eyes as she pressed herself closer to Aaron’s side, telling him that he was full of shit as she drank his expensive wine on pasta night. Dave knew Aaron didn’t believe him either, although he was more subtle in his attempts to let him know that, and he was fine with that.

If Dave was honest, he had no idea until Aaron and Emily told them. It made him look back at every moment he could think of over the previous eight months to see if there was anything he’d missed, any sign he’d overlooked. His friends were worryingly good at keeping secrets, something he’d already known about Emily once her past with Ian Doyle had come out, but it was news about Aaron. He’d always been private, always played his cards close to his chest, but Dave had always liked to think he could read him like a book. 

Even now, six months after Emily and Aaron had come clean about their relationship, it was strange to see them together sometimes. They were professional at work, called each other Hotch and Prentiss and kept their distance unless the other was hurt, but outside of work, things were different. They’d always be huddled together somewhere, sometimes lost in their own little world as they had a conversation no one else was privy to. They were soft with each other, tender in a way he wouldn’t believe if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. 

It was what they both deserved, the gentle life they both had earned after waging through fire to make it to the other side. 

He smiles as he watches them walk into the office together, how Emily knocks her shoulder against Aaron’s as they walk through the glass doors before they step apart from each other. They exchange a quick look, a soft smile that passes from his face to hers, and then they go their separate ways. - Emily towards their desk and Aaron towards the kitchenette where Dave is standing. 

“Morning,” Dave says, smiling behind his mug of coffee as he lifts it to take a sip. Aaron smiles at his friend and grabs two mugs and places them on the counter. 

“Morning,” he replies, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring it into the two mugs, “You’re in early.” 

“Thought I’d try and beat the traffic,” Dave says, watching his friend as he reaches for the box of Splenda packets, his sleeve shifting up just enough to expose his wrist and the new watch Dave had never seen before. Even at a glance, he knew it was expensive, that it was worth more than anything else he’d ever seen Aaron wear and his smile gets wider, “That’s a nice watch.”

Aaron smiles as he dumps two Splenda’s into Emily’s coffee, “Thanks. It’s from Emily,” he says, a look that always shone in his eyes when he spoke about his girlfriend briefly flashing through them, “She bought it for me because of what happened last week.” 

Dave nods in understanding. Aaron’s watch had been damaged in the takedown of the unsub in their most recent case, its glass face smashed against the floor as the guy made a run for it. Aaron had walked away without a scratch on him, which was something that Emily had made sure the EMTs confirmed before they left the scene. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks at the watch again. 

It was something he’d noticed almost as soon as they told everyone they were together. They bought each other gifts frequently. Aaron would bring Emily flowers. She’d buy his favourite dessert and they’d both pretend it was for her, Aaron’s denial of his sweet tooth long established, and they’d eat it together. They were always small things. Tokens of affection that reminded the other that they were there, that they loved each other. 

This was the first big purchase he’d seen, a rare show of Emily’s wealth that he couldn’t help but smile at. 

“Nice to have the finer things in life, huh?” 

Aaron frowns as he turns to look at him, “What do you mean?” 

“The watch,” Dave says, nodding towards it, “It’s got to be worth $10,000.” 

Aaron’s eyes go almost comically wide as he briefly looks over at his girlfriend, her focus on trying to get her computer working so she could start her day, and then he looks back at Dave, “It’s…it cost $10,000? That’s more than I spent on my first car. A lot more.” 

Dave chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, “Like I said, nice to have the finer things in life,” he says, winking at him, “It pays to have a girlfriend who’s rich.”

Aaron hums thoughtfully before he excuses himself, both coffees in hand as he walks back over towards Emily. Dave watches intently as they have a quiet discussion, Emily’s brow furrowing as she looks back and forth between Aaron and his watch, the flush to her cheeks obvious even from where Dave is standing. 

He finds it amusing until Aaron walks up to his office and Emily turns to look at Dave, her eyes narrowed as she glares at him across the room. He clears his throat and sips his coffee, hoping he’d be able to get through the day without her carrying out whatever revenge she was clearly already planning.

___

Penelope

To say she was delighted when Aaron asked for her help was an understatement. 

She’d actually had to cover her mouth to contain her squeal when he walked into her office, a nervous expression on his face that she’d never seen before, and asked for her help to buy an engagement ring for Emily. 

It’s how she finds herself in a jewellery store with him on a Saturday morning, her body almost vibrating with excitement as she looks in all of the cases, her eyes shifting from ring to ring as Aaron does the same. 

“Where does Peaches think you are today?” She asks as she looks up, suppressing a smile at the slightly bewildered look on his face as he stares at the rings in front of them.

“She thinks I’m with Dave,” he replies, a smile flashing across his face, “Something about helping him build furniture.”

Penelope chuckles, “Does he know about that?” 

Aaron nods as he looks back at the engagement rings in front of them, “He does,” he smiles, a rare smile she only ever saw on his face when he was thinking about Emily, “He’s still trying to get back into her good books after the incident with the watch.” 

She has to suppress a smile at that, pressing her lips together as she fights a laugh at the memory of Dave coming to her, furious and insisting that there was something wrong with the firewall because he was being inundated with marketing emails from companies he’d never heard of. It turned out Emily had signed him up for several different mailing lists to get him back for freaking Aaron out about the watch she’d bought him.

The emails were still occasionally coming through even all these weeks later, and Emily never failed to find amusement in it when Dave would groan in irritation. 

Penelope looks at the watch and smiles, “It’s a very nice watch,” she says, “And we have to get her a very nice ring.” 

He chuckles humorlessly, “Not $10,000 nice though,” he quips, “I don’t have that kind of money, and it wouldn’t feel right to buy a ring with her money.” 

She can see the insecurity that flashes across his face, a moment of vulnerability that was rare in itself but seems even more obvious in the casual clothes he’s wearing, the lack of his suit, something he always wore like armour, making it stand out. She sighs sympathetically and tilts her head as she looks up at him.

“Sir,” she starts, her cheeks going warm when he raises his eyebrow at her, something she knows is a silent reminder that she didn’t have to call him that, “Hotch,” she corrects herself, “Emily loves you. She’d love anything you gave her - even if it was one of those ring pops.” 

He chuckles and nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly as his gaze drifts back to the display case full of rings, “You’re right.” 

“I so often am,” she replies, smiling widely when he looks back at her, “Now,” she says, standing back at the case and looking at the rings with a level of concentration she usually only had at work, “As much as I am a fan of getting the flashiest diamond possible, we both know Emily would want something she could wear at work. So we need to pick something she can wear with gloves at a crime scene.” 

Aaron nods and blows out a slow breath, “It wasn’t this complicated last time.” 

She smiles sadly when she looks at him, “When you proposed to Haley?” 

“I used her mother’s ring,” he says, giving her a rare insight into his life. She doesn’t push, doesn’t ask any more questions in case he stops, she simply stands there and waits for him to carry on, “I was fresh out of college and broke and…she was close to her parents,” he says as he looks at her, “So it seemed like the right thing to do,” his lips curl into a half smile, his dimples slowly appearing in his cheeks, “Emily on the other hand…”

“Isn’t close to her mother,” she finishes for him and he nods, chuckling humourlessly as he looks back at the rings. 

“No she is not,” he replies, not saying anything he knows Emily wouldn’t want him to. His expression changes as he looks at one ring in particular. It was a white gold band with a teardrop diamond. Simple and beautiful and everything Emily would love, “What about that one?” 

Penelope smiles as she leans over the case, familiar happiness warming her from the inside out, “I think it’s perfect.” 

It’s hard to keep it a secret. Love and excitement for her friend bubbling under her skin as she watches Emily go about her days unaware of the upcoming change in her life. She has to stop herself from saying something when Emily tells her Aaron has a date planned but isn’t telling her anything about it, a hint of irritation in her voice Penelope knows she doesn’t mean.

The next morning when they walk into the office, Emily’s smile shining just as brightly as the ring on her finger, Penelope knows it had been a secret worth keeping.

___

Derek

Derek hated the mall. 

He’d never been a fan of them, found them too busy, too loud and the exact opposite of how he liked to spend his free time, but the case with the missing little girl a few years ago had made him hate them even more. 

He planned to get in and out as quickly as possible, a firm plan in his mind to get his mother’s birthday gift and card and then immediately head home. It’s as he’s choosing a card when he hears it, a laugh he’d recognise anywhere in one of the other aisles. He smiles to himself as he goes to investigate, his smile only getting wider when he spots Emily and Jack standing huddled together, a card in the little boy’s hands as he looks at it thoughtfully. 

Derek still felt guilty sometimes about his initial reaction to finding out Emily and Aaron were together. He’d never been one to react to change well, something his mother often told him, and he knew he hadn’t on this occasion. He’d been standoffish, only talking to them both when he had to. It had culminated in Emily yelling at him, her irritation finally getting the better of her as she told him to get his head out of his ass, that she was happy and that she deserved to be. 

It took Aaron getting hurt, a minor injury only a few weeks after they told the team that they were together, for him to realise how much they actually cared for each other. He saw with his own eyes that the relationship he was convinced was nothing more than a fling that would fizzle out was so much more than that. Concern flowing off of Emily like he’d never seen before until she saw Aaron herself, the relief palpable as she threw herself at him only to pull back immediately when he grimaced slightly. 

Ever since then, he’d watch them together when they thought no one was watching. Observe as they focused only on each other. He’d done so at their wedding as the guests slowly left, his eyes fixed on them as they slow danced together on the empty dance floor, letting themselves be led by the love they had for each other in place of the music that was no longer playing. 

He takes a moment to watch her with Jack, her focus entirely on the little boy who now called her Mom. She’d always been good with kids, he knew that, but seeing her as a mother was something else entirely. 

Something that, if his hunch was right, she’d be doing more of soon. 

She’d been different lately. Exhausted all the time but turning coffee every time it was offered to her and turning her nose up at food anytime someone ate in front of her. Penelope had mentioned that she knew they were trying for a baby and he couldn’t help but wonder if their family would be getting bigger soon. 

He clears his throat to announce his presence, “Fancy seeing you two here.”

Emily smiles as she looks up, and she steps towards him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, “Derek, hi. What are you doing here?” 

He pulls back, “Getting my mom’s birthday present,” he says, winking at Jack, “What about you two?” 

Emily opens her mouth to reply but is cut off as Jack excitedly replies, “It’s Father’s Day soon so we are getting Daddy’s card and present.” 

Derek ruffles the little boy's hair, “That sounds great buddy,” he says enthusiastically, “What are you getting him?”

“We got his cologne because Mom said he smells nice,” Jack replies, not picking up on how Emily’s cheeks go bright red, her gaze drifting to the floor as she avoid Derek’s eye contact and smirk, “And then a picture of the three of us from the wedding,” he carries on, “And then Mom said she’s got him a surprise.” 

Derek smiles as Emily’s eyes briefly go wider before she wraps her arm around Jack, “Come on sweetie, we should leave Uncle Derek to it.”

He shrugs, hiding a smile as he tests his theory, “I have time for a slice of pizza at the food court if you guys do.”

Emily almost turns green, visibly swallowing thickly as she shakes her head, her free hand briefly pressing against her stomach, “That’s okay,” she says, smiling tightly, “We were just there and Jack had something to eat,” she looks down at the little boy, “You ready to go?” 

Jack nods and smiles and waves at Derek, “Bye Uncle Derek.”

“Bye Little Hotch,” he says, fist bumping Jack and smiling when Emily rolls her eyes at him, “Bye, Em.”

“See you at work on Monday, Derek.” 

A month later, when they announce Emily is pregnant, he smiles and then immediately goes to Penelope’s office to get the $20 she owed him. 

___

JJ

“I am so uncomfortable.” 

JJ hums sympathetically at her friend as she sits back in the booth they are both in, a soft smile spreading across her face as she watches her friend rub her hand on her belly, “Your back?”

Emily grumbles as she tries to get comfortable, “Everything,” she complains, shifting again, “I feel so full of baby and food. I have no idea how I’ll cope when I’m further along.”

JJ chuckles and raises her eyebrow at her, “I guess you probably won’t have room for two desserts when you’re further along.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her, “The cake was good,” she replies defensively, “It doesn’t help that the mattress in our room is a piece of crap.” 

“It’s bad in my room too,” JJ replies, checking her watch, “Where did Hotch get to?”

“He had to stay at the precinct,” Emily says, smiling as she rubs her hand on her stomach again, “I was going to wait but he told me to come get some food. He knows I’ve been eyeing up this diner since the moment we arrived.”  

JJ smiles at her friend, “Well, I’ll always be free to go out and eat with you.” 

She laughs and nods at her, “You’re a good friend,” she winces and rubs a firm circle on her bump, “She won’t stop kicking,” she smiles and sighs contentedly, “She never stops. I haven’t slept properly in weeks.” 

“Totally worth it though, right?”

Emily smiles and nods, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain the joy that JJ knew she still wasn’t sure she deserved, “Totally worth it.” 

They both look towards the diner’s front door when the bell indicating it was open rings, and Emily’s smile gets impossibly wider when Aaron walks in, a large Target bag in his hand. He smiles when he sees them and walks over, kissing Emily as he slips into the booth next to her.

“Hi sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” she replies, kissing him again, “I thought you had to stay behind to work and you went shopping?” 

He clears his throat and JJ finds the flush that tints his cheeks pink adorable and she can’t help but interrupt, enjoying the insight into their lives that she wasn’t privy to, “I didn’t even know this town had a Target.”

He looks back and forth between her and Emily, sighing at the teasing grins on their faces and he smiles tightly, “There isn’t,” he says, passing the bag over to Emily, “But there is one the next town over so I went to get this for you.” 

Emily frowns curiously, “Honey, the next town is an hour away…” She drifts off as she opens the plastic bag, her eyes shining as she pulls a U-shaped pillow out of it, “You bought me a pregnancy pillow?”

He nods as if it is obvious, “You were uncomfortable and the mattress in our room is terrible. I know you have one at home but I thought this could be one we brought on cases until you stay back,” he says, reaching over and tucking some of her hair behind her ear, sneakily catching a tear that JJ thinks he didn’t know she’d seen, “I’ll carry it for you and everything.” 

Emily shakes her head at him and leans in to kiss him, her hand on his cheek as she pulls back, “I love you,” she says, kissing him again, “You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he quips, and she laughs, hugging the pillow to her chest. 

“Well, you’re setting the bar pretty high for your replacement,” she jokes and he rolls his eyes before he leans in and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m going to order some of that pie the sign outside claims is the best in the state,” he says, stepping out of the booth, “Do either of you want anything?” 

They both shake their heads and he walks towards the counter, leaving them alone for a couple of minutes. JJ looks at her friend, at how she’s looking at the pregnancy pillow as if it’s the best gift she’s ever been given, Aaron’s thoughtfulness, the fact he’d gone out of his way without being asked to get her something to make her more comfortable, making it worth more than anything else. 

“You okay, Em?”

Emily looks up at her and nods, her lips pressed together as she tries to control her emotions, a slave to her hormones as she had been for months now, “Yeah,” she replies, chuckling at herself as she wipes another tear from her cheek, “I just never thought I’d have all of this, you know?”

JJ nods and reaches over the table, resting her hand over her friends and squeezing, “I know,” she says, squeezing her hand again, “But if anyone deserves it, it’s you and Hotch.” 

Emily blows out a shaky breath and looks over at her husband, smiling as she catches his eye as he stands at the counter, and she nods as she turns back to JJ, “Yeah, I think you might be right.” ___

Spencer

He was always the first in the office these days.

Aaron and Emily used to get there before him, something he knew was largely down to Aaron, but they didn’t anymore. Ever since Ivy was born 6 months ago they were almost always the last in. The realities of having an infant and a 7-year-old and getting them out of the house in the morning was something that not even Aaron’s efficiency could overcome. 

Spencer sighs as he settles at his desk, his cup of coffee in hand, and he starts to catch up on his paperwork. He greets the team as they come in, always arriving in the same order. First Dave, then Derek, then Penelope. JJ would come next, throwing him a wink as she passed him a pastry she’d bought for him on the way in. She also puts one on Emily’s desk, and it draws his attention to something he hasn’t seen before. 

Just to the right of her computer is a framed photo of Jack and Ivy, the baby girl in her proud brother’s lap, his smile wide as he looks at the camera. Something about it is familiar to Spencer, even though he’s never seen it on Emily’s desk before but it takes him a second to place it. 

Aaron had the same picture on his desk. It was a new feature there too, something he’d never seen before the recent Christmas break, but he’d spotted it the day before when he’d dropped off paperwork in his office. 

“Good morning.” 

He looks up and smiles at Emily as she sits down, a large coffee in her hands as she shrugs off her jacket and yawns.

“Tired?” JJ asks and Emily groans, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Ivy hates sleep,” she complains, turning her chair around, “And she hates anyone else sleeping.” 

“I brought you a pastry.”

Emily groans and tears the paper bag open, “You’re an angel,” she pulls the pastry apart and takes a bite, her gaze drifting to Spencer, her eyebrows furrowing when she spots him staring past her, “You okay, Reid?”

He seemingly snaps out of it, his eyes widening slightly before he clears his throat, his curiosity getting the better of him, “I thought Hotch had that picture on his desk.” 

“Oh,” Emily looks at the framed photo next to her and then back at him, her lips pressed together as she clicks her tongue, “He does.” 

Derek pops his head up, seemingly interested in their conversation now there is a chance to make fun of her, “You have the same photo?”

“It’s a cute photo,” she says, slightly more defensive than she means to be, and she blows out a breath, “We…got it for each other for Christmas.” 

“You got each other the same gift?” Spencer asks, furrowing his brow, “In the same frame?”

Emily pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, “Yes. We did.” 

Derek laughs and leans back in his chair, “I guess it’s true that couples start to turn into each other after they’ve been together long enough.”

“Shut up Derek,” she replies, narrowing her eyes at him, “My kids are cute and it’s a cute picture.” 

He holds his hand up, barely hiding his smile, “Whatever you say Princess, but the two of you aren’t that far off dressing the same.”

“Actually, Emily and Hotch co-ordinated their outfits long before they were together,” Spencer says, only realising he’d spoken when they all stare at him, varying degrees of amusement on their faces, “His ties matched your shirt often enough I actually thought you were together before you were.” 

He’d never told anyone that he already knew they were together when they told them. He’d spotted them together months ago but kept it to himself, certain that there was a reason Emily and Aaron were keeping it to themselves. Even if he hadn’t seen them, he thinks he would have figured it out. Patterns had started to emerge. They would arrive at work at similar times. They would go to breakfast together at the hotels they stayed at during cases. If one was upset or hurt, the other would disappear alongside them and then when they came back they’d stand a little closer than usual.

He’d never said anything, largely because he knew no one would believe him, but also because he saw no merit in taking their secrecy away from them. It had brought them a kind of peace they both were due, and he wasn’t going to ruin it for them. 

Emily stares at him for a moment before sighing and shaking her head, picking up her coffee and turning her back on them all as she switches on her computer.

“It is far too early in the morning for this.” 

When Aaron walks out of his office, his tie the same shade of red as Emily’s shirt, the team all burst into laughter, something that’s only made worse by his obvious confusion.

___

Aaron & Emily

There were two things Aaron had always known about Emily.

The first was that she was rich. He hadn’t known quite how rich until they got together and she told him. He’d had to sit down afterwards, his eyes wide as she showed him that she could buy their dream house, that she could buy the whole neighbourhood if she wanted. When he’d finally pulled himself together he could see that she was worried, as if knowing this about her had changed his opinion of her. As if anything could make him be anything less than in awe of her at all times. 

The second thing he’d always known about her was that she was endlessly generous. 

She spent money without thinking about it. She bought dinner for the team on nights when cases got away from them, or paid the tab at the bar on a night out. She bought him a $10,000 watch when his broke. She’d paid for Penelope’s medical bills when she was shot, easily picking up the bits that the FBI insurance didn’t cover, and Aaron had learnt after they became a couple that she’d done the same for him too. That she’d paid out of pocket for him to have the best physio in the state so he could recover as quickly as possible. She always did it quietly, was less flashy than Dave sometimes was with his wealth, something Aaron thought must come down to being ‘old money’ rich instead of ‘new money’ rich, and she never seemed to expect anything in return. 

As much as he loved her for it, for the way she so casually loved him and their children, it sometimes made it impossible to buy her gifts that didn’t feel like they were lacking in comparison. She would never make him feel that way. She’d react to any gift from him or the kids like they’d handed her the stars themselves. 

He feels nothing short of annoyed at himself at how long it takes him to realise it’s the homemade gifts that mean the most to her. How her smile would get wider when she unwrapped a mug that had been made at Ivy’s daycare, her eyes shining with tears when she’d traced her fingers over their daughter’s tiny hand prints and then refused to drink tea out of anything else. How she’d kept every drawing Jack had ever given her, even the ones from before she and Aaron got together, and had her favourites framed and on her desk at work. 

By the time their anniversary comes around, he’s worked on his gift for her for weeks. He’d found old ticket stubs and receipts from dates they’d gone on when they were first together. He carefully stuck them down in a scrapbook, pushing through the frustration when the pages would stick together because he knew she’d love it. He puts in an invitation from their wedding that he’d kept back. Pictures of them all drawn by Jack and copies of the first ultrasound images they had of Ivy. 

He knows he’s not an artist, but by the time he’s done, he’s pleased with it. A scrapbook of their life so far together, pages purposely left blank so he could add to it if she wanted him to. Despite liking it, when it comes to their anniversary he’s nervous, anxiety licking at his insides as he slips it into the gift bag he’d bought. 

He finds her on the couch, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings, a sleepy smile on her face as she tucks her legs up under herself and pats the spot next to her. 

“Come here, honey,” she says, suppressing a yawn, “The kids are asleep, but we both know Ivy won’t be for long,” she smiles as she thinks of the 13-month-old. Their little girl had never been a good sleeper, but they were used to it now and neither of them could imagine their lives any other way, “Let’s exchange gifts and go to bed.” 

He smiles as he sits next to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, but she turns, capturing his lips with hers instead. He stamps another kiss against her before he pulls back, “We could have gone out, sweetheart.”

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through his hair, “No, this is what I wanted. You, me and the kids. And a home-cooked meal,” she kisses him again, “I don’t need to go sit in a restaurant to feel loved by you.” 

He nods, knowing he doesn’t need anything else either, and then blows out a slow breath and hands her the gift bag, “Happy Anniversary, Em.” 

Her smile gets impossibly wider as she takes the bag from him, stamping a kiss against his cheek as she leans back with it in her lap, “Oh it’s heavy,” she says, reaching into the bag and pulling out the book, “Your gift is a lot smaller by the…” 

She drifts off as she realises what she is looking at, her fingers tracing the outside of the scrapbook before she opens it, a gasp catching in her throat as she turns the pages. Memories of their time together stuck down and on display for her to see. She feels a burning in the back of her eyes, familiar tears that she knew she wouldn't avoid shedding as she continues to turn the pages - pictures and tickets and keepsakes from the last few years staring back at her.

“Aaron…”

“I know it’s not much-” he starts, but she cuts him off, all but launching herself at him as she grabs his face and kisses him, the book trapped between them. 

“It’s perfect,” she says, pulling back just enough to speak before she kisses him again, “It’s…I love you.” 

She’d already preferred homemade gifts. It was as if love was pressed into the very seams of them, time and effort from her loved ones more precious to her than any amount of money ever could be. 

“I love you too.” 

She smiles as she pulls back and reaches behind her, grabbing a small gift bag she’d hidden amongst the couch cushions, “Here you go,” she says, nervously biting her lower lip as she hands it over, “Your’s is homemade too.” 

He smiles curiously at her as she wraps her arms around her knees and hugs them to her chest, the scrapbook now between them, and his heart skips a beat when he feels a long thin piece of plastic in his hands and he already knows what it is before he looks at it. He looks down and chokes on a surprised laugh when his suspicion is confirmed, a positive pregnancy test staring back up at him.

“Em…”

She presses her lips together as her lips shake at the wonder in his voice, “I know technically you helped make this gift,” she says, her cheeks warm as he looks at her with so much love she thinks she could burst, “But I’ll be doing all the hard work and literal heavy lifting, so I thought it counted.” 

“It definitely counts,” he says, pulling her towards him so she’s in his lap, his arms tight around her as he kisses her fiercely, hoping it goes some way to express just how much he loves her, “This is the best anniversary present ever.” 

She nods and kisses him, her forehead against his as she sighs contentedly, her thumb pressing into his lower lip as she gently corrects him, “Best anniversary present so far.” 

-x-

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Chapter 6 of Introducing: Mousinette! Results Day 😁

After Marinette left Gotham behind (hopefully temporarily) she braced herself for the final school term. She woke on the first morning back at school and felt melancholic - this was the last time she would start a fresh term with her current friends. Sure, it wasn't like she'd never see them again but still.

“Tikki, why is change so hard? I had a wonderful time in Gotham, but how is it possible that lycée is over so soon?” she sighed, ruffling her fingers through her hair as she took a final look in the mirror. Tikki gave her some encouraging words and she smiled, grabbing her backpack as she walked out of the room.

Approaching the lycée, Marinette slowed down and checked her phone for messages. Now that she was back in Europe, her new American friends were unlikely to message her during her morning routines and school - they should either be sleeping or working. But Adrien had found time to message her, asking about her trip and whether she was ready for school again.

She smiled and sent him a short text saying that she was happy but also sad and nervous about the next step after this. The rest of this term was about preparing students for their next step in life, rather than learning about topics. She kept her smile all the way to her desk, thankfully able to block out Lila's high pitched (and likely false) recounting of her break.

Sadly, she could only ignore it for so long, Alya dragging her into the conversation by asking how her break was.

“Isn't it crazy that you were both in Gotham? Lila was just saying that she spent most of her break with the Waynes, which is so cool! Didn't you say you went to view the Gotham U campus with your aunt and uncle?”

“Yeah, and we met up with my online friend's family. She has a younger brother planning to go to GU, same as me! He's a bit of a jerk, but you know, I don't have to spend time with him if I get accepted. I've already started researching fashion internships, in case. How was your break?”

“My break was boring, mostly spent it babysitting and being relieved that there's no more tests! Ooh, your online friend that sent you flowers on Valentine's Day? Did sparks fly when you finally met face to face?”

“Um, no, I think I traumatised her, actually. And she definitely only sees me as a little sister, so I spent some of my time getting over the tiny crush I had,” Marinette shrugged. She had grown massively from when she would sob about how unfair it was that someone didn't love her back. She had a better sense of her own self-worth and wasn't going to waste her energy on trying to force things to change. “Besides, she's almost twice my age, I'm not sure I would have liked her as much if she did have feelings for me.”

“Oh, that's such a shame, Marinette!” Lila cooed, drawing Alya’s attention back to her. “I'm sure you'll find someone eventually , some people are just unlucky like that. Like my friend, Damian, he told me he has feelings for someone, but she doesn't feel the same. I've told him I'll help him confess but he won't even tell me who it is.”

“Ooh, girl, you don't think he could be crushing on you , do you?” Alya had taken the bait, and Marinette had to work not to audibly groan. She knew it was all lies, because after spending two evenings with Barbara's not-quite-family, she had worked out that they were the same Waynes that Lila had been bragging about for the past few months. When she had asked about her, they had claimed confusion and she let it go.

“Oh, I hope not,” Lila replied, managing to sound both flattered and crestfallen. Honestly, if Marinette didn't detest her so much she would be impressed. “I would hate to hurt a friend, just because I don't feel the same. I mean, we all know how certain people,” she added significantly, eyes darting to Marinette, “can't handle when people don't return feelings. Our friendship might not be the same again!”

Gritting her teeth, Marinette turned away as Alya continued the conversation and tried to get a handle on the flash of anger that had flickered through her. It's my last term with the lying witch, she consoled herself. And then I'll be away from here, actually friends with some of the Waynes and she'll drop into obscurity.

_ _ _

Barbara was in the batcave when her phone started belting out Katrina and the Waves’ Walking on Sunshine. The others around her, getting ready to call it a night after patrol, glanced over to her, quizzical looks on most faces. Damian was scowling, but given that was his usual look, she paid it no mind.

“Hey Mari, what's up?” Barbara said as she answered the phone. Jason snorted at the ringtone and Damian seemed to freeze before shrugging it off. She eyed him speculatively for a moment, before focussing back on the call.

“I got in!” Came the shriek from the other end of the line. “I got my BAC score today, and I got a freaking 19 and I only needed a 16 to get in so I'm going to Gotham University!”

“That's incredible, way to go Mari! Does that mean it's time to apply for those internships? Oh my god, you have to promise me we'll do girls nights when you're here,” she was babbling, but she wasn't used to having civilian friends any more. It would be nice to let loose with Marinette, even if it was only once in a while.

“Obviously we will, but I have to go for now, I need to go down and tell my parents! Talk to you on Saturday.” And the dial tone rang in Barbara's ear suddenly. She grinned, shaking her head. Chances were, Marinette would realise she had called Barbara at 3 in the morning, Gotham time, but she was pleased that she had wanted to tell her so much that the time difference hadn't even crossed her mind.

“I take it that your…friend will be attending the same university as me this fall?” Damian said suddenly, standing to the side. He huffed slightly at her brisk nod and walked away without another word. She glanced around and caught Dick's eye, but he only shrugged as he walked over to her.

“I don't know what that was about, he hasn't mentioned her to me since the day we went to tour the college,” he said. “You know what he's like with new people though, he's probably just worried we're going to make them hang out.”

Barbara hummed in agreement, picking up her phone again when a message chimed. She smiled when she saw that Marinette had indeed realised the time in Gotham and was both apologetic and a little concerned that Barbara had still been awake.

Across the world in Paris, Marinette had messaged Chloe, Kagami, Adrien and Alya to let them know the good news. She was grinning from ear to ear, bouncing around her room and squealing every now and then. She had already started packing almost everything, regardless of if she would need it between now and when she moved to Gotham.

“Tikki, it's really happening! Oh my God, it's going to be so incredible, we can move into the dorms, make friends and learn so much! And I need to find an internship, God that's going to be so stressful!” She threw herself into her desk chair and let it wheel her to her computer, throwing herself onto her arms.

“Marinette, I'm so proud of you! You worked so hard on your BAC, and you have so many options with internships thanks to the work you've put into commissions!” Tikki was fluttering around her head, smiling and squealing. “We’ll need to consider our options because we can't let any dorm mates know about me.”

“Ugh, right, magical secrets,” Marinette moaned, thinking hard. “The dorms we looked at were pretty small, not a lot of privacy and no soundproofing. That doesn't sound like I'd be able to keep you out of the box…okay, new plan! We're going to secure an internship and get an apartment, that way it's our space. It'll probably be easier doing commissions anyway.”

Now that she had made the first decision, it was easy to see what next steps to take. She started looking at the listings near the university for 1 or 2 bedroom apartments, writing off several that looked beautiful but had ridiculously low prices. She settled on two or three that seemed reasonable and sent emails to them.

She then started to scout out internships, checking the employees testimonies and looking at potential salaries. She sent emails to all of them, but took extra care on the ones she wanted. Wayne Enterprises was at the top of her list, both because she knew them personally and because it was high on the list for employee treatment. 

She sighed and stretched again, checking her phone and grinning at her new messages. She opened the one from Kagami first, the slightly formal manner making her glow with pride at how well she had done. Chloe's was more relaxed but just as proud. Alya hadn't messaged back yet, but Adrien’s was sweet.

Hey Bug, that's so awesome! I knew you could do it, you've always been the perfect one of the two of us. Let me know if I can help at all with the changes etc. <3

Although it had been a hard decision at the time, breaking up was the right thing to do. When they had revealed their identities after catching Hawkmoth, it had been awkward and tense. They had decided together that there was too much between them now, and that being friends was better than trying to force it to work.

They had both made token arguments, trying to keep the relationship, if only because it turned out they were Ladybug and Chat Noir, Marinette and Adrien; their friends shipped them so hard, they had practically cried when the pair finally started dating (Alya totally cried when they stopped dating, too). 

Their new friendship was built on the solid foundation of having spent time fighting a supervillain, shared stresses of hidden identities and dealing with mini gods. But moving in with his aunt in England meant that Adrien had had to break up with another person - Plagg. Plagg was getting some much needed rest in the Miracle Box, coming out occasionally to chat with the Guardian and Tikki.

Now that she was out of texts and tasks, Marinette decided it was time to do some designing again. She had a free day from lycée and planned to utilise it properly. All of the joyous energy that had flooded her was ready to be honed, and she wanted to see what she came up with. 

So it was several hours later that she heard the chime of her emails, and realised that she hadn't moved in that time. Cursing softly, she made her way to the bathroom, went down to the kitchen to grab a drink and a snack, before settling down in front of the computer again. She opened the new email, squealing when she saw it was from Wayne Enterprises.

Dear Miss Dupain-Cheng, 

It was a pleasure to receive your application for the internship offered here at Wayne Enterprises and we are considering your application currently. We do wish to clarify some things regarding your experience up to this point.

You have successfully worked with Mme Audrey Bourgeois, and won a competition with the brand previously known as Gabriel. Based on those, we would just like to discuss what you have worked on since your brand ceased trading in the past year.

We look forward to hearing from you,

The Office of Timothy Drake-Wayne

Co-CEO

Marinette chewed her lip, wondering if she was ready to out the face behind MDC. On one hand, this was why she had rebranded, she needed to get her work out there and make it easier to break onto the fashion scene later. On the other…the anonymity meant that she didn't have to deal with paparazzi, or people trying to be friendly with her just because she was kind of famous. Her hands hovered over the keyboard before deciding, and starting the email back. She checked the time and saw that it was still early in the day in Gotham.

Good morning,

Thank you for your speedy reply, I appreciate that you are a very busy company so it means a lot that you have taken the time this morning.

In regards to my brand, I rebranded in December last year. Prior to the rebrand, I had kept my connection to Jagged Stone secret as I am still 17, and did not wish to present myself to the media yet. As this is still the case, I trust that you will treat this information with discretion.

All of my current work can be found under my new website, mdcdesigns.fr  

If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to contact me, either by email or phone,

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (MDC)

She tried to relax but was checking her emails every few minutes. She figured they would need to check her claims out, but she so badly wanted this internship. It was the best paid - ie, not volunteer work - and the company had raving reviews from long standing employees.

After what felt like hours, but was only minutes, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. She picked it up hastily, not bothering to look at the screen as she did so. She felt herself physically deflate when Alya responded to her greeting.

“Girl, a 19? That's crazy amazing! We have to celebrate, like immediately! I can have the girls ready to go in half an hour, tops, and we can do whatever you want. I'll bet the others will want to celebrate their scores too, and anyone who doesn't can commiserate!” Alya was so enthusiastic that Marinette couldn't help laughing.

“Als, it's, like, Wednesday. We should wait until Friday, that way we can plan something spectacular,” Marinette mused, already jotting down a couple of ideas. “Now, I'm not 18 yet, so that vetoes a couple of options, but we could go for a meal, get glammed up and head to this new dance club, it allows 16 and up, you just can't drink without ID. Oh, or we could go listen to a band somewhere, although Kitty Section is obviously a no, since they'll want to relax too. Hmmm, why don't we- oh, sorry, that's another call, can I catch you back in a little bit? Thanks, Alya, speak soon!”

She switched calls while Alya was still laughing and went to say hello when someone else interrupted immediately.

“How could you not tell us you were MDC?” came Tim's voice. He sounded highly affronted, and Marinette choked back a nervous giggle. “You knew we wanted to know, Babs must have told you we were fans, so why didn't you say anything?”

“Uh, hi Tim, nice to hear from you,” she replied awkwardly. “Well, first off, I said in my email why I didn't say anything. Also I know Babs pretty well but I only met you that week? Anyway, Babs was the one that wanted it kept a surprise.”

“I didn't think you were so malicious, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Tim said gravely, although he undercut the gravity with a snort a moment later. “God, no wonder we couldn't find out though, I bet she designed your website, didn't she? I knew the code was familiar when I struggled to crack it, but she didn't say anything so I didn't put it together.”

“She did, and off the record, the reason I needed a new site is because someone started spreading rumours that I was stealing someone else's work, so I had to shut my old one down. That's why I needed Babs' help to set up a new one, I couldn't trust my friend to do it without blabbing.”

“Oh, well, that sucks. Whatever, I already talked to Babs and she confirmed that you are who you say you are so I wanted to call personally and offer you a job.”

“Don't I need to interview for the internship? Aren't there, I don't know, a bazillion other candidates that need to be sorted through?” Marinette was alarmed at how quickly it was all moving.

“An internship? Oh, hell no, I want to hire you as the fashion consultant for Wayne Enterprises. We don't have one currently, just sort of pick up the odd suit and have Alfred tailor it, but if you're willing, we could give you a job to be in charge of our public event wardrobes.”

“...you know I'm going to be a student in the fall, right? And that I can't be a full time employee because I'm not even 18 yet?”

“Oh, well, sure, but there's no point giving you an internship when we could take you on part time. My understanding is that you're getting a full ride to GU and therefore don't need the money for school fees, but I promise as a part time employee, your pay would be significantly better than an intern’s. Plus, that leaves the internship open to someone who needs it.”

“How do you even know about the scholarship?” Marinette was stunned. He wanted to hire her? No awful internship, she could do what she loved for people she knew and liked? It sounded too good to be true. “Wait, no, that's not the point. I mean, yes, obviously I want the job, when do you want me to start? I can't move to Gotham right now, because I have to finish the year, and my birthday isn't until July, but then I could make my way over in August?”

“Okay, awesome, what if we hired MDC as a independent consultant, through your website, for the next 2 months, you can start making some designs for everyone, and then you can sign an actual contract just after your birthday, then whenever you move to Gotham, we can set you up with an office and creative space?”

It was more than Marinette could have dreamed of, and she was quick to agree. They hashed out the logistics, but he sounded just as gleeful as she felt when the call disconnected. She squealed and did a happy dance, picking up her phone to call Alya back. 

_ _ _

Once Damian knew that he would be seeing Marinette again, he decided that he needed to change his behaviour. It was not a sudden revelation, he had been thinking about their interactions more often than he would admit ever since she had gone back to Europe. So over the next week or so, Damian made an effort to improve his conversational skills. He spoke to random students at his high school, worked on being more patient with Kent, and asked his father to find him some work at his company to spend time with a range of different personality types. 

He of course did not relay this particular reason to his father, giving a more general explanation of wanting to get a feel for the business before he began working towards his economics degree. His father readily agreed and Damian found that he was more than capable of marshaling his temper around buffoons.

He did not want his brothers to make more of his change of behaviour than there was, and so he seldom interacted with others at the same time as them. Even so, Grayson had commented more than once that his patience had improved drastically, most likely referring to the fact that he had not threatened anyone who had been overly familiar with him.

He was determined to make a better impression on Marinette the next time they met.

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - VI

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Cat Stevens' voice filled the atelier that day. He had been singing there for several months now, but Sienna didn't get tired of it. For the moment her son's favorite, and he sat among a mountain of cushions on the floor with his own drawing pad while Sienna painted on a big canvas on the white wall. You could only see the sketch of a horse’s face at that moment, but it would be full of color when it was done. She smiled at her son; she still had a bad conscience for leaving him and thought to herself she would never do it again, especially not for something as fruitless as a TV show. Most of the time it was just about waiting, hoping to be chosen to get invited for a date instead of just walking around the neighborhood on one more walk. The man didn't even seem to be interested in her and had other women he would rather put energy on. She wasn't that desperate; she had been single a long time and knew she didn't need a man to be happy, especially not a man who might not even like her.

She decided quite quickly to go home after her son had said he missed her on the phone. He rarely said such things, so the four words, “I miss you, mommy”, made her heart ache. It wasn't worth it. She packed her bag and contacted the production.

She spoke with a female producer who looked at her disappointedly.

“You understand you can't come back? This is your only chance?” She explained. Sienna nodded. The producer made it sound like a life changing opportunity, but Sienna didn't see it like that at all. Bill was handsome and sweet but too distant to be interesting. He never gave her any real attention.

“Do you meet men like Bill often?” Asked the producer. Sienna didn't understand the question and shrugged her shoulders.

“Living like this? Having this lifestyle? You're a painter, right?”

Sienna looked down at her hands. She knew what the producer tried to imply. Bill had money, she didn't. However, that was never the reason why she had wanted to be a part of the show, but when the producer said it like that, she still felt dirty.

“I know what I want. I want to go home to my son.”

The producer sighed and crossed her arms. She stood in deep thought for a while, while Sienna played with a rhinestone S keyring on her suitcase.

“Okay, but it's best if you leave in silence. We don't want a scene,” said the producer. Sienna furrowed her brows and looked uncomfortably at her.

"But I want to tell Bill myself? I think he deserves that.”

The producer gave her a tired look.

“It's better if he doesn't know.”

Sienna got a bad feeling in her stomach. Why didn't they want him to know? The only reason she could come up with was that they wanted to do it as a part of the show. She would be the runaway bitch, and he would be humiliated.

“How will you tell him?”

The producer smiled condescendingly towards her. Sienna noticed how the woman's way towards her had changed quickly after she had told her she would want to leave; this was not her behavior earlier.

“I can't talk about the production with you, but I want you to remember you're under contract, and leaving like this will maybe affect people's views of you, even in your normal life.”

Was that a threat? Sienna swallowed hard. They would really make her seem like the bitch, but right then and there she felt her conscience weigh heavy for Bill. Leaving was her choice, not his; still, they would humiliate him on international TV.

“Will it affect Bill?”

“I don't think you really care. But if you stay, we will not need to do a thing about this.”

Sienna scoffed and looked out from the window. The woman had threatened her twice now, but she had been through worse things in her life, so she didn't care.

“I just want to go home to my son.” She reiterated, and after that, the producer finally understood she would leave whatever she said.

×××

Of course Sienna felt her body ache from her bad conscience. She couldn't just leave Bill to his destiny. Even if she didn't really know him, she knew he wasn't worth that. She needed to talk to him. If he talked with his producer friend, maybe he could stop the humiliation from happening.

She knew his bedroom was a safe zone from cameras, so she needed to just creep by the cameramen from her bedroom up to his. It wouldn't be easy, but she could try. So she did. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest while creeping up the stairs that it felt like she was doing something criminal. Now he just needed to be there; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to tell him.

She didn't expect him to be so comfortable with letting her in, and she didn't expect how easy it was for her to step into his private place. She felt a warm presence from him when she walked into his room, and it felt familiar and safe. She hadn't felt that from him earlier, but they had never really been alone before. She saw another side of him, but that wouldn't change her mind.

It felt good to let him know what was happening behind his back. It felt good going home, but something also made her sad. She would never know who Bill was for real, behind the polished exterior. She could see a glimpse of it there, when they were alone, and could feel her cheeks warm by thinking back on his sensitive eyes.

×××

It was a phone number she didn't recognize that called her, and with discomfort, she answered and sat down in her son’s pillow mountain.

“Hi, Sienna. This is Herman Larson, one of the producers. We've met a few times.”

Sienna sighed. Would they threaten her again? Were they so desperate?

“How are you?” Herman asked politely, but Sienna didn't have energy for the small talk.

“Fine. What can I help you with?”

Herman laughed uncomfortably in her ear. Sienna didn't get a rude vibe from him like she had gotten from the woman, but he was slow with saying what he wanted, which was also annoying.

“Well, we want to bring someone back to the show, and Bill wants it to be you.”

Sienna felt something crawl around her stomach when Herman said Bill’s name. It was he who wanted her back. But it could also be a lie, a new trick to make her come back, to make the show interesting.

“No, thank you,” she said fast and looked down at her son's sketch, which was mostly just lines and circles.

“Bill wants to talk to you. Just a video chat. He really wants you to come back.”

“Why? He doesn't even know me?”

“To be honest, I don't know. He is just really certain of this.”

Sienna thought about it, feeling the snake in her stomach make it both hurt and tickle.

“I can talk to him, but I will not come back.”

×××

“I know, I know…” she said when she saw Bill's smiling face on the screen. It was obvious he had also felt something that short moment they had in his bedroom. It was like a clue into what they could have, and now they sat there, both of them with butterflies in their stomachs. Sienna covered her red cheeks with her hands while she looked at Bill's big eyes, even more magnetic because of the softly lit room he was in. Both of them sat in beds, but Sienna could see it wasn't his own. This had a beige headboard, while he had a black one.

“Ehm… I want you to come back? I really want to get to know you, Sienna. I don't know how to say it, but I think you can feel it too?”

He said it cryptically because it felt so naked to already say words like those he was thinking. Sienna sighed a little to herself and looked towards her son's bedroom. She didn't have her own bedroom; she slept in the living room, but she liked that so she could keep an eye on her son’s room.

“I can't…” She looked away, and it made Bill become nervous at once. He really thought her blushed cheeks and smile were an indication of what she felt, but clearly not.

“Please, I mean, I get that this shitshow is bullshit and awful. I feel that too. A TV show is not the way to date, but... I just want to get to know you, Sienna. I haven't been able to think straight since the last time we saw each other.”

Sienna looked at him now. He looked desperate and nervous. She felt bad for him, but also for herself. She wanted to get to know him but be a part of that circus again… No.

“I'm sorry, Bill.”

He looked down disappointed at the keyboard, and she could see him dusting away something from it while he nodded a little.

“Fuck… I should really not have judged you for that shoe chaff!” He said it half jokingly. Sienna laughed.

“It hurt like hell! I still have a wound!” She said and even lifted her foot against the camera, trying to show him her heel.

“I don't see,” said Bill amused.

"Yes, you do! It's just there! I will have it for the rest of my life!”

Bill laughed at her while she continued to try to show him the heel of her foot. The screen became too dark when she put her foot so close to the camera, but he wouldn't say that.

“Yeah, yeah, I see! Shit, I'm sorry for not taking it more seriously; I didn't know you were fifteen minutes from an amputation.” He smirked, and Sienna lowered her foot so she could see him. She smiled a bit amused but pretended to be insulted. Bill couldn't stop smiling big, and she started to laugh when she saw his silly expression. Both of them took a deep breath and a little pause before Bill started to talk again.

“I am really sorry I didn't give you the attention you deserved when you were here…”

“It's okay,” she smiled a little and fixed her hair. “I wasn't that easy either. I thought I would be able to open up with you, but with all the girls... I couldn't… And the production wanted to paint me up as a victim, and I refused to do that, and then... I just felt really uncomfortable.”

Bill looked at her seriously, moving his laptop a bit.

“Victim?”

“Yeah… Because I'm a single mom to a boy with autism. I didn't want to exploit him like that, and instead I decided to not mention it at all and... Well, I couldn't talk. I couldn't let you in.”

Bill didn't say anything for a few seconds, and it made Sienna nervous at once. She had met guys before who had dumped her because of her son. She lowered her gaze, preparing herself for Bill's rejection.

“How old is your son?” he asked with a kind smile, and Sienna looked up at him again with big eyes.

“He's five. He is the kindest baby,” she said with a proud smile, and Bill smiled big too. He knew it was a lot of work with autistic children, but instead of thinking about negative things, he was just impressed by her. She was alone in it and still didn't make herself, or her son, into victims.

“You're 28, right? So the both of us became parents when we were 23.”

“Yeah! It's far too young to be honest!” The both of them laughed.

“It is, but we made it work, right?”

“We did.” They smiled at each other knowingly. One more thing that made their connection feel deeper than the ones he had with the other women. Even if one of the other women had children, he could feel that Sienna would understand him better but also be a more natural part of his girls’ lives and being a process in healing the scars they carried.

The conversation continued easily, even if she wouldn't be a part of the show, even if Bill would need to pick another woman in just a few weeks.

They talked about their kids: Bill's daughter, who was a great soccer player, and his younger one, who wanted to help with cooking but in reality just wanted to eat. They were 11 and 5 years old and reminded him about what was most important in life. Her son was also 5 but couldn't talk that much. He liked to draw just like his mom and enjoyed music from the 60s and 70s. Bill laughed at that, impressed, because his own daughters just listened to Taylor Swift at the moment. He wished they also would like Cat Stevens and Paul Simon.

They talked about movies, and just to try her, he wondered if she had seen The Cuckoo Nest and Gone With the Wind.

“Of course! But Gone With the Wind is not my thing. I should be ashamed; it's such a classic, and the cast is amazing, but I think I saw it at too young of an age to feel it was interesting, and then that opinion stayed with me.”

Bill felt the butterflies in his stomach fly into each other. It was so silly, that such a thing would make his cheeks heat, but it was just amazing that a girl shared his interest, for real.

“Did the production for the show know about your movie interest?”

“Yeah, they asked so many questions before taking me in.” Bill nodded slowly. “Why?”

“I was on a date with one of the girls... In a theater. It must have been planned for you… And it would probably have been the best date ever if it was with you.”

Sienna smiled a little but also looked guilty.

“Don't say that…”

“Why not?”

“It's mean towards the other girl.”

“It's not like she hears me? I know it would be the best date ever. This, just talking with you like this, is the best date ever.”

Sienna looked embarrassed, and Bill smirked. He didn't care about the other girls' in that moment, just about Sienna.

They continued to talk until she needed to hang up because her son woke up. Bill felt the disappointment ache like a knife in his chest when she hung up, but he also felt so many glowing feelings flying around in his body. It was obvious she liked him too, and he would call her again, even if it wasn't appropriate.

Bill called Sienna again the next night, and they talked even longer, but even if he knew she would say no, he begged her to come back to Los Angeles, but she didn't want to leave her son. He understood that a child with autism needed safety and predictability. She needed to stay with him to not mess up his world. There was just one solution for this, because Sienna was the woman he wanted to get to know, the woman he had developed real feelings for. The solution was the only right thing for everyone, he thought. But maybe not everyone...

“Drop out? You can't drop out; it's your show!” Said Herman, upset, and looked at Bill, who sat calmly on the edge of his bed. He was dressed in a loose-fitting beige linen shirt and medium blue jeans. He dragged his palms against each other, believing Herman would give in, but Herman wouldn't do that; there was a lot of money in this show.

“I've found the woman I can see myself with. I don't need this anymore. We can do an episode about me realizing that-”

“That's not what people want! People want drama! The network wants a 12-episode show! Not half of it!”

Bill crossed his arms and looked at Herman with furrowed brows.

“But I don't want to.”

“Sucks to be you then because you're under a contract!”

“That's not fair to anyone. You mean I should continue this when I don't want any of the girls left?”

“I thought you liked Esmeralda!”

“She's nice, great even, but she isn't the one who... Sienna… It's just really different.”

“I don't care! This is your job right now!”

Bill scoffed.

“So you will force me?”

“Yes, I will force you, and you will play along! Do whatever you want with Sienna when the cameras are off, but when we're rolling, you're interested in Esmeralda and Brigitte, okay?”

Bill didn't know what to say because it didn't feel right at all, not towards Sienna and not towards the other girls.

×××

The girls stood in a row in front of him, like he would examine them one at a time. Tiffany, Brigitte, Maria, Violet, Esmeralda, Rose, and Odette. They stood by the stairs, waiting for him to say who would be able to stay. Odette already had a key as a gift because she came back. She looked at him with starry eyes, probably believing it was he who wanted her back. For him, it didn't matter because he didn't want any of them there. He wished he could go to New Jersey. It had gone so fast—five calls with Sienna, two dates, one with Odette and one with Tiffany. He was completely sure he wanted Sienna; he had fallen in love.

He looked at the girls and felt just a bad conscience. They thought they had a chance, but they were just there to create entertainment; his heart wasn't there anymore but in Sienna's paint-stained hands.

“Tiffany,” he said and tried to smile warmly. The smile was probably more believable than he thought because she smiled big at him when she walked up to get her key.

“Esmeralda.”

He had a really bad conscience towards her, and it was hard to look at her. Just the day before he had his first call with Sienna, he had laid next to her, kissing her and giggling like he had feelings for her. In that moment he also did, but they felt insignificant when he met Sienna's hazel eyes through the camera. Esmeralda was a girl he could see himself with, but Sienna was the girl he knew he wouldn't be able to live without.

Esmeralda smiled brightly at him, like she felt they had something special. Bill lowered his gaze but looked up with a fake smile. He needed to pretend, and the actor in him knew how.

Maria.

Rose.

Brigitte looked at him hurt but also embarrassed, like she was ashamed she had believed there was something special between them. It was a feeling all of the girls would feel the day they got to know Bill had already decided who he wanted—someone who wasn't even there. Brigitte smiled sadly at him when she walked up to him and followed him out on the porch without a word. It wasn't until they were alone that she walked up to him close and dragged her hands over his khaki colored button up. Bill pulled her hands away and smiled apologetically. She still stood just as close and looked at his smooth skin and plump lips.

“It's Esmeralda, isn't it?”

Bill looked away, ashamed, without saying anything.

“I think we all can see it…”

“I'm sorry, Brigitte.”

“Me too… I guess we will see each other at the reunion... With you and Esmeralda together.”

×××

“It feels awful because I don't want to see any of them; I just want to be with you,” he said sincerely to Sienna on the screen. They had an earlier night call than usual because her mom was at McDonald's with her son. She wore an oversized t-shirt with Ingmar Bergman, just as a silly thing to show Bill. He liked it so much he decided to steal it as soon as he could get his hands on it.

“We haven't talked much at all, Bill. Are you really sure? Not that I don't really, really like you, and believe you like me back but I don't have five guys standing outside of my bedroom door.”

“Thank fucking God for that!”

Sienna smirked because of the irony. Bill looked a bit guilty but smiled back.

“I'm sorry. I wish I could just drop out, but you don't understand how much money I would need to pay them if I did. I don't have that money.”

“It's okay, Bill. I will not demand that of you. But… Must you kiss them and so on?” She looked down a bit embarrassed. Bill was just happy she asked, that she didn't want him to be close to other girls, but then reality hit him.

“It says shit about commitment and understanding the entertainment value in the contract and… I don't know. I guess they could say I didn’t show enough commitment or something…” he said with a sigh. Sienna looked at him with big eyes and nodded a little. She didn't know what to say. Bill had asked her for forgiveness so many times for his messy life, so now it felt empty to say it again. He couldn't change anything. During the few seconds the both of them suffered in silence over the situation, there was a knock on Bill's door. He looked towards his bedroom door, confused, before he stood up awkwardly to open the door. Sienna was thankful Bill walked away because she could feel blood creep up to her cheeks. She didn't know what Bill wore more than the white tank; she had just imagined him wearing sweatpants, but when he stood up, she realized he wore just a pair of gray, tight boxers. When he stood up, she could see thick, hairy thighs but also his bulge, an impressive bulge. She didn't think she would see that much of him that night, but even if her face heated, she wished she could see more.

Bill opened the door slowly but took a relieved breath when it was Herman and not one of the girls.

“Are you already in bed?” Asked Herman. Bill looked towards his laptop that stood open on the bed, and Herman sighed.

“Sienna?”

“Yeah.” Bill moved away from the door so he could walk in. “Sienna, Herman is here, so you know,” said Bill and looked at her on the screen, then sat down again on the bed. Herman looked uncomfortable.

“Hey, Sienna… Sorry for-”

“Not letting Bill and I see each other?” She was irritated but sounded more teasing. Bill turned the laptop towards Herman so he could see Sienna, who was waiting for an answer.

“It's not that easy, Sienna…”

“I guess not, but if you're Bill's friend, you will do this as simply as possible for him.” Bill looked pleased and proud. Herman gave him a fast look. He had something in his eyes he hadn't seen before, and he couldn't stop looking at Sienna. He dragged a hand through his hair. Bill was his friend, and that thing in his eyes was something he wished Bill could show more often.

“I will try… But it's not easy. I can't decide everything.”

“But can you decide that we will take a break this weekend?” asked Bill. Herman wagged his head back and forth.

“So I can go to New Jersey?”

Sienna looked at Bill with a giggly smile.

“Do you want that? Come here?”

“Of course, babe.”

Sienna smiled with a blush, both because he wanted to come to her but also because of the nickname. Babe. She was his babe. Just like that.

Herman looked at them both awkwardly, but he knew he owed Bill to try to make it possible. If he could get his date with Sienna, he would probably be easier to work with and maybe he could make him make the best choices.

×

[travelingmaster-inspirations]

Would you believe that this empty-headed pleasure sleeve of a woman used to be the owner of my new house?

From what she told me, she was somewhat of a gold-digger and had planned to use her looks to marry an older gentleman and either divorce him, or wait until old age took care of him. Divorce and a good attorney turned out to be the meal ticket she planned it to be and she got loads of money as well as the house in the settlement. She didn't have a job so she didn't want the payments that came with such a massive mansion and thus, put it for sale.

Since I had seen how gorgeous she was in the pictures that lay around the house when I visited, I couldn't help but want to meet her in person. It was easy enough to organise a private conversation with her since I was offering more than she was asking for.

My natural charisma and her eagerness to get me to buy soon captured her undivided attention and enable me to covertly hypnotize her. Thankfully, her eagerness was easy to redirect and after a long conversation with her subconscious, it was child's play to setup a few dates.

Her gold-digger/trophy wife mentally gave me the perfect mind set to work with because she already knew how to play the part of being a beautiful 'asset' for a wealthy man. By the time I was done with her mind, she had the unshakable belief that she was just another 'asset' I was buying along with the house since she was selling it 'fully furnished'.

Since I didn't officially own her until the sale was finalized, we didn't consummate our new relationship until I actually moved in. I couldn't help but smile when I finally stepped into my new home to find her kneeling in her most revealing lingerie to greet me because it told me she was ready to embrace everything I had hypnotically tricked her to believe.

She viewed herself as an asset of the house and since I owned the house, I owned her. She understood that every furniture and asset in a house had it's designated uses and as a sexy vixen, she instinctively knew that her worth tied to the pleasures she could offer with her body. Since we both understood her role, there was no trace of awkwardness at all when I walked up to her and told her to give me a welcome home blowjob.

The initial idea of her being part of the furnishing of the house was just a clever excuse to get her to stay with me, but since she embraced it so readily, I didn't see the point to change her into anything else. Since then, I made a point to hypnotize her a few times a day to further push her mind down that path. Eventually, she stopped thinking of herself as a person all together and now, she truly views herself as an animated piece of furniture I own.

The only thing she cares about is being the best asset she can be for her owner.

[lacunasbalustrade]

my parents' situation has escalated in the time I haven't been here properly, I'll summarize:

I had to call the police because my mother, a grown woman of 47, thirty years older than me, and my father, a grown man of 50, decided to attack my younger brother for sassing them.

He's got a tone issue. He's always had a tone issue. But apart from that, he's obedient, much more than a normal child, good in his studies despite a slight disability that makes it hard for him to read, and takes care of our younger siblings.

this grown couple decided they needed to beat him to teach him a lesson. he hid in the bathroom. I had to hold my mother back and literally block my father's way. when I first tried to call the police, he took my phone and locked it in a room.

It's happened in the past. Same thing, but with my older brother, who is decidedly more troublesome, but also definitely not delinquent status.

it's been a few days since then. the police arriving stopped them from contemplating more violence - also, I managed to make them give allowance and transport to school by threatening to file charges. but some changes have been made. all of us older kids have to cook our own meals, sleep at 9.30 pm, and adhere to random rules they've decided to put into place without prior notification. furthermore, my mother has been throwing away the gifts we gave her in the past.

it's not the rules I hate adhering to - in fact, it's a bit of relief since I no longer have to depend on their constantly fluctuating schedule. It's the awful reason behind them - our parents wanting to alienate us from them and make everything a business transaction. it's the frostiness and polite greetings and designated responsibilities purposely planned to make us bear the weight of their lack of affection.

it's the way my mother refuses to talk about anything that's happened. she says she can't manage it emotionally. so i can hold back my parents from attacking my siblings and research laws and scholarships to get out of this place and she can't bring herself to have a mature, reasonable conversation. any disagreement is seen as disrespect, arguing with her.

we have five kids in this family. the older kids take care of two of the youngers. we don't go out after school, don't take any extracurriculars other than the school mandated ones, don't take tuition because we know family expenses are tight, don't even have friends we spend time with on a daily basis.

my mother's parents kicked her out of the house once she got married and played favourites, preferring her brothers to her. my father's mother was promiscuous during her marriage, is a Buddhist who forces her view of religion on others - think making everyone eat vegetables - and his father was abusive.

It's not that I don't know they've gone through pain. But pain isn't an excuse for them to pass on their life trauma. My mother bought a couple of clocks after the argument. They make the same sound as the clocks her parents have at their house. Ding-dong. Think creepy school bell.

I'm researching full-ride scholarships overseas. If worst comes to worst I'll take a government bond scholarship. I'm also thinking about setting up my own debit card since I'm over 16, and starting to work part time - which I've wanted to do, but which they've never let me.

I'm not injured by this, per se, because I still love them, even though they definitely don't love me. But my self worth does not hinge on whether they love me or not, and I want to, moving forward, find a source of income and work harder at my studies and extracurricular activities, plus creative pursuits, so I have a better portfolio that I can use to get myself into a scholarship.

They didn't actually have enough money to pay in full for my university/college anyway. Instead of relying on them, I'd really like to broaden my horizons in a foreign country, take subjects I'm interested in, and see how far I can go without them to hold me down and shut me up.