#(and just goes 'yup romance is just another way for you to die in this world. no thank you.')
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liroyalty · 10 months ago
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And then we wonder why this one is hesitant towards being open towards others, especially romantically.
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mvalentine · 2 years ago
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so im just sitting in jfk thinking thoughts and ignoring cam and catching up on our trr2 replay and my mind is wandering to the land of wasted potential… like an Olivia spin off backstory whatever because the TENSION in bk2 where she’s like ‘Hes marrying her and in love with you etc etc’ and she runs off hurts my heart 💔 if we got to choose how the story played out in a true choose ur own adventure doo you think liam/adam x Olivia could be a thing? Do you think they ever were???
And in that camping scene pls give me ur hc on Audrey x Drake bc my girl Anya still hasn’t kissed the bloke by then and is she horny on main 🥲😅
LMAOO as you should good to know you have your priorities in check <333 but nah fr dom i hope you’re feeling alot better now!!
also omg YES both me & audrey in the camp of feel bad for her because you can tell that liam is the only person she’s ever loved & omg she’s loved him for AGES crown or no crown it’s always been liam for her. & im actually in the camp of people who believe that yeah, olivia x the prince could be a real thing!! i really like their fire & ice dynamic, & i would totally live for an au where olivia moves on post engagement fail but was liam’s biggest support system post his heartbreak but then liam starts seeing her in a different light & starts get jealous and shit & then is like wait why am i jealous oh no….. oh wait…… it can’t be…… i want HER to be pined after i want the one who’s pined their whole life to be the one who’s pined for (a la loml pen <333) but yk at the end of the day im maddie & olivia ride or die. but tell me your thoughts!!!! i need to know 💗💗💗
also AHHHHH the camping scene another one of my fav scenes honestly the writers were truly feeding us drake romancers in book2 <333 but also BESTIE anya has more self restraint than me or audrey because goddamn. no but like the way he takes it so seriously & is giving out orders is so adorable to her like is this man fr. and that scene where she goes in the tent she’s kinda like wtf am i doing the prince im supposed to marry is literally right next to us have i lost my mind?!? & then he’s all like wtf are you doing here & this bitch is just like i need body heat <333 and he’s just like shit oh yeah true (like WHAT. i can’t tell if the choices drake knows that the mc is being fr or nah. kinda like the vibe of drake taking camping & the mc’s well-being so seriously that he’s just like yup! okay valid!) —- but anyways the scene where the mc is like you take it so seriously you were barking out orders & then drake is like wait did i ruin it :( with his sad face AHHHH i swear audrey wanted to kiss that adorable little pout from his face she’s like nah it was cute & he’s like cute? and she’s like yeah 🥰 & then he’s all like what else can i do to make your experience more memorable miss huntzberger like shut UP they’re such dorks!! but also i SWEAR mr. walker was down to fornicate (the true meaning of dtf btw!!) in those woods like if fuckin maxwell ugh i really dislike him more & more each play hadn’t interrupted i swear they would have fucked like this man was really like yeah next time we’re coming to the woods alone im gonna go down on you all night you can be as loud as you want baby. but yeah the whole time anya was just thinking of how much she wants this simple life with him how easy & right it feels how right he feels ugh she’s so in love it’s actually sickening to witness.
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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years ago
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Yup, Sure Was a Finale
I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.
It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.
Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.
(+) This
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Just this.
(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert
“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020
(+) The tragedy of Azula
And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…
(+) Sokka being a big bro
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And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…
And now for the main course.
(-) Blink and its over
The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.
Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.
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Oh well!
(-) Ursa
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We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…
(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?
Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?
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Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?
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So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.
Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.
(-) “What does Katara want?”
Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.
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This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,
Once.
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And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.
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The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.
And I fully intend to die mad about it.
(-) Iroh dips
OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.
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(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)
Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?
(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se
Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.
The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?
Yeah, no.
Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:
orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;
gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;
establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;
sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;
countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);
running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.
Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.
You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.
(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn
Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?
If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.
One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”
I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.
You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.
I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.
(-) All hail Avatar Rock
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Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.
He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.
He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.
Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.
The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.
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And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.
Again.
It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.
Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.
And I hate it.
Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.
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mhashorts · 3 years ago
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When Our Eyes Meet
Inspired by mmajjyc’s art on TikTok.
Pairing : God Izuku Midoriya x Reincarnated Katsuki Bakugou
Prompt : God falls in love with a mortal, only to lose him. The reincarnation of his lover slowly remembers him after making eye contact with a painting.
Genre : Romance, Fantasy, Anime
Word Count : 1,550....I think.
It was a sudden visit to the museum, nothing interesting to be expected besides the random pieces of art made years ago by artists known and unknown. And some new pieces of modern art of course. Eijirou thought this trip would be a great outing, something different from the amusement parks, arcades, and movie theater. He also needed the visit so he could write the 5-page essay on specific pieces of art for his college class that was due in two days. Not like he was going to tell any one of his friends that though. Unbeknownst to him, Denki and Katsuki did know the moment Eijirou pulled out his notebook from his backpack once they stepped foot on the museum’s front steps. They just did not want to ruin the positive atmosphere.
Grumbling as the trio walks further into the museum, Katsuki separates himself from his friends but stays close from behind as they enter the Japanese God’s and Goddesses exhibition first. There were a decent amount of people examining the art and sculptures, silently speaking amongst themselves. Some even attempting to sneak a few pictures of the angels in the paintings.
Eijirou and Denki walked at a fair pace, catching glimpses of everything here and there. Coming up to a huge mural-like portrait painting, Katsuki stops in his tracks and stares up into the eyes that suddenly caught his attention. He stays fixated on this piece of art that displayed a crying angel, paying no mind to his friends who continued walking, leaving him behind.
Deciding he wanted to know more, out of pure curiosity, he calls out to Eijirou. “Oi. Shitty hair, give me the guidebook.” He demands, not sparing him a glance as his focus stayed on the painting. “I wanna know who this is.” Eijirou turns to him (as well as Denki) and brings the book up to his face, flipping through the pages.
Finding the right page, he reads it out to his friend who was ready to listen. “It’s a representation of Izuku, The God of Peace. He answered people’s prayers and was worshipped in all Japan in ancient times.” “One day he fell in love with a mortal, and he was banished from the god realm.” An image of Izuku with a huge smile flashed through Katsuki’s memory suddenly, causing him to shudder. He did not know why but it felt like déjà vu to him. Like he has experienced seeing that smile before in person.
“Legend says he is among us, trying to find the reincarnation of his long-lost lover… who remains unknown?”
Katsuki’s eyes stayed on the face of the green haired angel and his eyes widen as another memory flashes through his brain once more. This memory was vividly clear to the point a single tear fell down his cheek. He shakes his head to rid the memory, but it was no use. Then he recalls the dreams he had that he never remembered the morning after. Unable to tear his eyes away from the green ones that stared back, Katsuki jumps to the touch of his friend’s hand on his shoulder. He turns to them with teary eyes. Eijirou and Denki stand their shocked, not knowing what to do since this was the first time seeing their hardheaded friend so emotional.
“Are you okay Bakubro?” Eijirou asks, “Did I say something wrong?”
Katsuki uses his sleeve to wipe his tears and shoves his way past the two.
“Woah. I didn’t know he cried. He’s usually so kept.” Denki states, watching his friend leave the exhibit. He looks at Eijirou, “I’m worried. Should we go after him?”
It doesn’t take the red-haired friend more than two seconds to respond, “Just give him a minute. I think he needs to be by himself for a while. I’m sure he’ll message us if he goes home.”
“Okay.” The two continue their visit.
~
Katsuki makes his way out of the museum in a rush, not caring if he bumped into anyone on accident. He was somewhat thankful that his friends did not follow him out, not wanting to break down even more in front of them. He treks down the stupidly long cement set of stairs and when he finally reaches the last step, he trips over his own feet. With no way to prepare himself for impact, he closes his eyes, only for him to land in a pair of sturdy arms.
“Woah. Are you okay?” The person who caught him asks, helping him to his feet. “These stairs seem to be a little steep. There should be a sign that says, ‘watch your step’. Haha.” He jokes before pulling his hands away from Katsuki. Looking up, the two make eye contact and the memory floods back.
~Flash Back~
Izuku’s face was covered in dirty tears as he held his lover in his arms, his face buried in the ash-blonde hair that was now stained red. He screamed out to the gods, begging for forgiveness so he could heal his dying lover. Alas, the gods did not respond to his cries. He rocked his dear Katsuki, kissing his face over and over in hopes that the gods and goddesses saw his pain.
“Don’t die on me. I cannot live on this world without you. I just can’t.” He pulls him closer, “Please Kacchan. Please.”
Katsuki lets out a small cough, placing his hand on Izuku’s tear stained face. “I wish I could, but I don’t have immortality like you, my love.” He whispers, “Or else I would walk on this earth with you for eternity.”
“No. Not like this Kacchan. I won’t let you die.” “I can’t be healed, whether it be from the gods or yourself.” Izuku cries get harder, “This is all my fault. If I didn’t fall in love with you, you would be living peacefully.”
“Yet here we are.” Katsuki coughs, “It’s not your fault Deku. None of this was your fault. I fell in love with you, and nothing could come between that, not even the gods. Please, do not blame yourself.” More coughs erupt and blood falls past Katsuki’s lips.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Izuku apologizes. Katsuki uses the last of his strength to bring Izuku’s head down so their foreheads touch.
“What did I say Deku? Don’t apologize.” He grunts, “We will meet again. And when we do, I may not remember until my eyes meet yours.”
“O-of course.” The two share a final kiss and once Izuku pulls away, Katsuki’s body falls limp.
“Got damn you!” He shouts up at the sky, crying harder. “I did nothing wrong but fall in love with someone who had a heart! You all would do the same if you were in my place. You let me keep my immortality but at what cost. To see my suffering for falling in love!”
He looks down at Katsuki’s body once more, “When our eyes meet. I’ll see you again Kacchan.”
~End of Flashback~
Reality sets back in and Katsuki is in shock. He does not break away and looks deeper into the familiar green eyes. “Deku?”
Izuku, equally shocked, slowly starts breaking out into tears. “Kacchan? Is that you?”
Engulfing Katsuki into a hug, he brings his hands to the ash-blonde hair. Soft and spikey, same as before. He pulls away for a second, examining the face he dreamed about every night. The lips he remembered kissing. The eyes he stared into for hours on end. “Please tell me you remember me.”
Katsuki smiles back, “I do. It’s cloudy but I do my Deku.”
“Yes. I’m your Deku.” He laughs through the tears, hugging his lover again. “It’s been so long Kacchan. I almost lost hope.”
“Like I said, I may not remember until my eyes meet yours.”
They make eye contact again and finally, after decades of their souls being separated, they share a kiss. A spark flows through the two of them, rekindling the fire that has been waiting to be ignited once again.
They can finally live in peace.
~
At the top of the stairs, Denki and Eijirou fist bump. “Our job is done. Great work partner.”
“Do you think we should tell them that the Goddess of Love sent us?” Denki asks.
“Nah. I think they’ll be better off knowing that the gods regret their decision to banish him. Plus, Midoriya is no longer immortal.” They look at Izuku, smiling when they see he is finally at peace and can rest after decades of searching. “It seems like he already knows that.”
“And I don’t want to know what Bakugo would do to us if he finds out we knew about this this whole time. We might be the goddess’s helpers; we can still get hurt.” Denki nods rapidly in agreement.
The two watch on as the lovers walk away, holding each other close as they disappear into the crowd. “We are good friends.”
“THEY DID WHAT, DEKU??!!!” Katsuki shouts, running back towards the museum with Izuku right behind him.
“Hey. Do you still have that essay to write?”
“Yup. Wanna go back to the apartment and help me finish it?”
“Yup.” With that, the two book it.
“KACCHAN. THEY DID IT FOR US! DON’T HURT THEM!”
“THEY’RE DEAD.”
The End.....
So, it is the end of the short story I promised. It took me 4 hours to write since I wanted it to be perfect. I tried to input as much detail as possible get make it short. I cried at the flashback part. I also didn’t know if I wanted to do parts but it took me some thinking and I just decided with this. I also added a little funny ending for my pleasure since it’s what I do in my regular writings.
I hope y’all enjoyed it! Let me know if you did!
Also, thanks to mmajjyc for allowing me to write a short story of the duo! You art is beautiful and inspired me to write this since there wasn’t gonna be a part two. Lol! You are amazing!
Thanks again! Much Love - Maia❤️
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365days365movies · 4 years ago
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May 1, 2021: The Prestige (2006) (Recap: Part One)
What’s that old Arthur C. Clarke quote again?
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Not that one, although that’s...that’s fantastic, and I need to know more context to that conversation. But no, no, not that. The other one.
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Not that one, although that’s...horrifying. Let me explain something first, then. Clarke was the author of the classic science-fiction novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, which definitely didn’t go on to become one of the most widely regarded films of all time. Anyway, he was a big-shot in science fiction, and was even knighted for his prominence in pop culture in the UK and across the world.
Fellow famous sci-fi author Isaac Asimov is well known for three rules of robotics, but Clarke has three rules of his own. A futurist, his laws describe conjecture about scientific development in the future of out societies. Those laws are:
When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.
The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
Magic, huh?
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God, I love Weird Al. Anyway, as a child of the ‘90s, I am well-acquainted with the boom of stage magicians that appeared during that time, and during the early 2000s. David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty disappear, David Blaine coughed up a live frog, Criss Angel freaked minds; lot of stuff back then.
And yet, despite other recent magicians like Penn and Teller or Dynamo, the greatest age of stage magic isn’t even CLOSE to the 90′s. No, no, to really see magic in its heyday, we need to go back to the late 1800s and early 1900s, to the days of the stage illusionist. 
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Obviously, the first person that comes to mind is Harry Houdini, a man whose feats have lasted the test of time, and may have led to his death. Not only did he get buried alive, not only did he escape from a straitjacket in chains underwater, NOT ONLY did he hold his breath inside a water-filled milk can inside of a wooden chest repeatedly for FOUR YEARS, but he was also the greatest enemy of spiritualists and mediums everywhere!
Yeah, despite being a stage magician, Houdini was OBSESSED with exposing those who claimed to be actually supernatural. After all, as a showman, he was interesting in exposing tricks that were meant to defraud the innocent public. Dude was awesome, is what I’m saying. He died from a burst appendix, which miiiiight have been caused by a student who punched him in the stomach after asking if he was actually resistant to abdominal damage. Yeah, not a great death. And he wasn’t the only illusionist to die of tragic circumstances, but that’s a discussion for another day. Because of this is sci-fi month...why am I talking about magic? Well...imagine a lighter.
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Now image that you went back 5,000 years, to any civilization, and showed them a lighter. The ability to create fire with seemingly nothing but your bare hands? You’re basically a wizard! Fire from no visible fuel? TEACH ME YOUR WAYS, O SORCERER OF THE FLAME!!! And that’s just a goddamn lighter. 
What about a light bulb? Light from energy you’ve harnessed from metals and from the air itself? Jujube! A camera? With the ability to capture a moment in time in the form of a tangible image? WITCHCRAFT!!! A smartphone? A FUCKING SMARTPHONE???
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And so, in celebration of the blurring of magic and science...why not start this month with an unconventional form of science fiction, huh? Something that blurs magic and science in a way that’s indistinguishable. And so, I can FINALLY watch a movie that I’ve wanted to watch for YEARS!
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I am so excited, and this is a hell of a way to kick off the month! Why this? Well, I’ll explain that later. But for now...LET’S DO THIS.
SPOILER ALERT!!!
Recap (1/2)
There are three acts of magic.
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First is “the pledge”, where the magician shows something normal. Then, there’s “the turn”, which is when the ordinary becomes extraordinary. And finally, there’s the act of bringing the show full-circle; bringing back a disappeared object, in a new way and with a new technique. That final act, the showmanship, the establishment of the mystery, is called “the prestige”.
So is told to us by John Cutter (Michael Caine), keeper of canaries and stage engineer to magicians, via narration abut magic. Intercut with that narration, and with a disappearing canary trick, is the presentation of an act being performed by Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman). In it, he turns on a machine using electricity, with lightning bolts flying freely. He steps inside of it, and disappears.
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Meanwhile, coming from the audience, a man pretends to be part of the act, and goes backstage and underneath the machine. There, he witnesses Angier fall through a trap door into a water tank, unable to get out, panicking and drowning. Which is just super fun to watch, lemme tell you! And that is where the story starts.
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The man from the audience was Alfred Borden (Christian Bale), who is quickly put on trial for the murder of Angier. A rival of his during the 1890s and early 1900s, Borden is sent to jail, and sent to death by hanging. This is as his young daughter watches on. In court, Alfred testifies against Bruce Wayne on how he murdered Wolverine, because this is all I could think of the entire time. Anyway, the court asks for more details on the trick that killed Angier, called “the Transported Man”. He refuses to divulge it publicly, but agrees to tell it to one of the judges in secret.
In prison, Borden’s visited by a representative of a wealthy collector of items, Lord Caldlow. He asks if he will sell him his most prominent trick, the “Transported Man”. But Borden also refuses, as it’s HIS trick. Still, in response, the man gives Borden a journal of Angier’s’, and asks him to think about selling the secret. And from there: flashback!
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Angier is on a train, heading to Colorado Springs, where he’s surprised to see that the whole town has electricity. His plan is to go up the mountain, which is closed for scientific experimentation. Which isn’t ominous at all! That completely banal revelation is followed by a walk up the mountain in the fog, past a fence that says no trespassing and LITERAL WARNING SIGNS.
There, he’s greeted by Alley (Andy Serkis), the assistant of the estate’s owner. Apparently, said owner made a machine for Borden, and Angier wants to learn the secrets. Another flashback, and we learn that Borden and Angier, rival magicians now, met a long time ago at the show of another magician, both volunteering to tie up the female assistant, Julia (Piper Perabo). Which would be creepy out of context, and then is creepy IN context when Angier kisses her thigh. Ew.
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Anyway, they drop her into a tank, with a pretty stereotypical trick. After the show, we also learn that these two men are actually working for the magician, Milton (Ricky Jay), which makes that thigh kiss less creepy. Talking to Cutter and Julia, Borden mocks Milton’s trick, noting that the old magician won’t even try something like a bullet catch. Cutter mocks this idea, and asks if Borden has any better ideas. It’s around this time that Cutter suggests seeing Chung Ling Soo. Huh. I won’t say anything about that until later.
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Or right now! And, uh...oh shit, this is extraordinarily awkward. Here’s the thing: this is NOT Chung Ling Soo. I know this for two reasons. One, Soo didn’t really pretend to be crippled, as Borden and Angier suggest. Wasn’t really his bag. But something that IS interesting about the guy is how he died! BULLET CATCH TRICK!! Yup! He tried the bullet catch trick, and he died when the bullet actually fired at him! Yeah, awkward.
And you know what else is awkward, and really different from this story? Chung Ling Soo was...not Chinese. Even a little bit. His real name was William Ellsworth Robinson, he married his assistant, cheated on her with another assistant, never divorced and still married his new assistant illegally, etc. He was an interesting guy. Ignoring, y’know, the whole disgustingly shitty yellow-face thing. Different times, unfortunately.
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Borden’s frustration with an act he considers boring and obsolete erupts during one of Milton’s shows, where we see him KILL A BIRD, FUCK ME MAN. Yeah, I get it, Borden, this is terrible! This coincides with meeting a young woman and her nephew, who is also upset to see a bird die in front of him. The woman is Sarah (Rebecca Hall), and the two start a romance. Meanwhile, the romance between Angier and Julia is a straight-up marriage, making that thigh kiss fare more understandable. And, the two are about to have a baby, to both of their delight! Nothing bad will happen now!
We flash forward to the future, where Cutter is showing the judge what’s what with the device. He claims that a wizard built it, and that the machine can actually do what magicians have only pretended to do for years. They also look at a tank, and Cutter reveals that the tank has a terrible history, especially for the two magicians.
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Flashback again, to a night of yet another show. That night, Milton and the group go through with their trick, as per usual. However, Borden decides to make it a little tougher and more exciting by tying a different knot this time. And unfortunately...Julia can’t untie it. They try to get her out in time, but alas...it’s too late.
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Julia dies, and Angier blames Borden, who isn’t even entirely sure if he tied the knot that killed Julia...allegedly. Not a big fan of Borden right now. The act is over, and Borden decides to split off and do his own act, calling himself “the Professor”. Now having a child of his own with Sarah, he decides to do a bullet trick, with the help of new stage engineer, Fallon. But this is a tricky trick to perform. And the understandable mental breakdown of Angier causes its own problems.
See, during one of Borden’s shows (which is going TERRIBLY), a disguised Angiers shows up and loads a REAL bullet into the gun for the trick, and BLOWS OFF TWO OF HIS FINGERS FUCK ME!!! Borden’s not exactly happy about this, but he recovers quickly. Shortly after, Cutter finds Angier at a bar, and offers him the opportunity to make a new show of his own. Reluctantly, he accepts, and takes up the moniker “the Great Danton”, a name that his late wife suggested.
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With a new bird/cage trick, one that lets the bird LIVE (THANK YOU), they’re almost set. But they also add a new assistant, in the form of...Black Widow. I mean, sorry, Olivia Wenscombe (Scarlett Johansson). Yeah, um...Wolver, Alfred Pennyworth, and Black Widow are working together in competition against Batman. Also, Gollum is in the movie, too. God, what’s next, David Bowie?
Anyway, the show is on once again, and Angier asks for some volunteers in the audience. But, uh oh! One of them is Borden in disguise, and he sabotages the trick in front of EVERYBODY, breaking an audience member’s fingers, and killing the bird, completely fucking up Angier’s career, in revenge for his fingers. Oh, also, MOTHERFUCKER YOU KILLED HIS WIFE (maybe)!!! Doesn’t justify Angier shooting off your fingers, but you could’ve just let bygones be! No wonder you’re rivals in the future! Batman’s a dick (which, given Christian Bale, isn’t that surprising).
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Well, since his trick, Angier’s fucked. They’re kicked out of the theater, and in need of a new act. Cutter suggests that Angier goes to the upcoming science exposition for ideas. And yes...that’s where the science fiction angle starts in. See, like Clarke said, any science that’s sophisticated enough LOOKS like magic to audiences who don’t understand it. And Borden has the same idea, as he also heads to the expo. 
It’s there that a presentation of a massive electrical generator is being held, with the machine having been invented by...Nicola Tesla! YO!
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I don’t think I need to tell anybody about Tesla at this point, but he was a brilliant physicist and inventor from the early 1900s. His legendary Current War with Thomas Alva Edison for the current to be used by the United States (Tesla’s DC vs. Edison’s AC) is the stuff of science legend...and is a conflict that the far less charismatic Tesla lost. Still, his mastery of electricity (such as the above Tesla coil) is remembered today. If you want to go sightseeing, check out New York! In Niagara Falls, he’s got a massive statue overlooking the falls; and in Bryant Park in NYC, you can sit on the bench where he fed his beloved pigeons. Yeah, he loved pigeons, which I respect.
Anyway, the expo’s shut down due to presumed danger of the exhibit, possibly spurred on by Thomas Edison and his PR team. Which is pretty accurate, not gonna lie. Still, the experiment interests both Angier and Borden. Still, Angier doesn’t do much with this information. Right now, anyway.
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Flash forward to Angier in Colorado Springs, and a group of men from Edison’s employ are there for some reason. But undeterred, Angier heads back to Tesla’s lab, where Alley shows him a gorgeous sight: lightbulbs dotting a field, making a gorgeous grid of light. He reveals that the source of the electricity is 15 miles away, as a testament to Tesla’s scientific genius. Stellar.
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A great place to pause. See you in Part Two of this Recap!
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taebaesworld · 4 years ago
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The Art Of Love | 2
Pairing :Kim Taehyung x reader
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 PART 1
                                                         STORY
Its the first day of classes, I am rushing towards the cafeteria. My hairs uncombed in a messy bun, and my blue unicorn pjs even messier.
Not many people are in the cafeteria, I guess not many people are stupid enough to select a early class. I drag myself across the hall towards the buffet. Taking a dish and a bowl I started to fill them up.
“Well, aren’t you the chirpiest bird in the morning.” A raspy but somehow smooth voice purred in my ear from behind. I turned to see who it belonged to and it was one of the guys from yesterday. His eyes were of dark chocolate colour and he had thick lashes that I instantly envy. I can’t exactly remember his name but it was something Kim. But I smile sarcastically in response and said “Yeah the chirpiest.” 
He chuckled and it was a light chuckle and laced with a hum of amusement at the matter. My lips instantly curled into a smile at this and my cheeks heated up. He extended his hand as we moved ahead in the line and said “ Kim Taehyung.”
I took his hand and shook it. His hands were huge and engulfed mine completely. “ Y/N Y/L/N.” I said. He gave me a one sided smile. “So you are taking Lit 101 too I am guessing.” He said. “Yup.” I said popping the p. 
By this time we reached a empty table he took a seat across from me. His features looked even more prominent in this morning light. We were both eating silently when he suddenly raises his hand and shouts “Jonnie, here.” I turn around to find another on of the guys from yesterday standing with the food tray and with a wide grin that I am assuming is directed towards Taehyung I turn back around and continue eating. He takes a seat next to Taehyung and his eyes land on me. He gives me a huge grin and his whole face lit up. “Hi. I am Kim Namjoon.” Taehyung probably saw the question coming next and said  “No we aren’t brothers.” 
I nod and offer a smile to Namjoon “Y/N Y/L/N.” 
As I was done with break fast I got up and walked out of the hall and as soon as I was I the Door I sprint to my room. I had 20 min before class and it took 10 mins to reach the class. I change in a hurry, apply just a little bit of make up, Grab the things I packed last night for today and again made a run for it. 
Nearing the corner of the class I slowed down and before entering the class I smoothed out my hair. As soon as I enter I find a huge over table and people seating in chairs. I took a seat that was empty near the window and the board. Soon the class had piled up and every chair was taken. I looked up from the book I was reading and right opposite of me sat non other that Taehyung. his hairs were now in place instead of what I saw yesterday and in the morning. Although he looked quite good in both. He gave me a sheepish smile after nothing that I was looking at him. I smiled back. He was about to say something but a loud and authoritative voice cut him.
“Welcome To Literature 101, I am Professor Scott.” his voice was smooth and his accent British.
I whisper “Obviously the guy teaching lit is British.”  and the boy sitting in front of me looks at me and smiled. “Obviously.” He says before turning back.
After professor Scott tells us about the course and how everything is gonna work He says “Lets get this first lesson started. I am hoping everyone has read the Romeo and Juliet. Who is going to tell me what they thought about it.” Almost everyone's hand went up instantly including mine. 
“Lets start with you.” He said pointing at Taehyung. “Mr. Kim.” 
“ The notion of two people in love that are divided by social stratus is relatively familiar. And the characterization are quite straight forward. It is a celebration of love and the ends people go for love.”
“That’s enough, You across from him.” He said “Ms. Y/L/N.”
“UMM..” I took a sharp breath in. “I feel that Romeo and Juliet is a story that of lust and not love.” I uneasily glanced at professor Scott. “And why is that Ms. Y/L/N.”
“Romeo, goes to his enemy’s party because he fancied the host’s hot niece, Rosaline, he then losses interest in her and decides he no longer wants to die for her beauty…because he just saw her cousin, Juliet was way hotter who he fall instantly ‘in love’ with her instead. It was the initial High of lust that made them take irrational decision along the way.” I said
“Hmm...Does anyone want to comment on that.” He says
A guy with blonde hair raised his hand. “Yes Mr. Denials”  Prof. Scott said
“Keeping in mind that the play took place in Renaissance era I think that it brought a new light on love. Romeo was a hopeless romantic, even after being rejected by Rosaline he goes to the ball looking for her. He there see’s a girl attractive and falls for her as she just like him was romantic. I think that this tale shows the flaws of love and yes they made irrational decisions but that's what loves makes people do.” The guy say
I raised my hand “Yes Ms.Y/L/N.” 
“I believe that William Shakespeare didn’t intended this to be a love story.He probably wrote this as a tragedy. It was supposed to show flaws among social class and teenagers and their quote unquote love.” I say “The romance was quick and empty. There is no depth to their love.”  
As I finished Taehyung’s hand went up. “Yes Mr. Kim.”
“This play brought the idea that TRUE LOVE IS WORTH DYING FOR." He says
Another girl’s hand went up “Go on Ms. Potts.”
“In Romeo and Juliet, the headlong passion and excitement of young love is celebrated, even though confusion leads to the deaths of the young lovers. But through their deaths, and the example their love set for their parents, the two families vow to be reconciled to each other.”
I raised my hand “Ms. Y/l/n.”
“I believe that It was the immaturity of not only Romeo and Juliet but also of the friar that resulted in four deaths. Also I think the biggest reason this story is even a little tangible is because its based and written in an era where mobiles and better communication didn’t exist. Because if it did Romeo would have got the message in time they would have ran away and later realised that they didn’t even know each other and once the hear and attraction fades there’s nothing left.”
Professor Scott Clapped his hand “You have brought out a perfect point Ms. Y//L/N. Now we are nearing the end and for your next class I want you all you see how the story of Romeo and Juliet would play out if it was in Morden times. And Ms. Y/L/N I except you to write on what you just said. Class dismissed.” 
PART 1
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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago
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2020 Fic Meme
It happens every year like clockwork. The Fic Round-Up Meme. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it this year because I’ve written so much. As usual, compiled from ancient Livejournal fic memes. I like doing it as kind of a time capsule of my writing. If anyone else wants to take a crack, feel free. I love reading writers’ throughs on their own work. <3 No tagging because that is PRESSURE. 
Twilight
12 Days of Fic-Mas (Twilight, WIP) Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 + Christmas Eve Twelve days of fic extracts, previews, and drabbles focusing on Alice Cullen and Jess/Jasper Hale: Anathema, the KidFic, Married in Vegas, Daemons, Memento Vivere, Human Alice Kills James, Jess and Alice do Prom, Forgotten, Vampires in Vegas, Shadow to Light Missing Scene, Hybrid, Cowboys and Angel Solstice, and All These Broken Things
Afterglow (Alice/Jasper, AU, Romance, G)  There were three things of which she was certain. The first was that her name was Alice. The second was that she was born an angel. And three, she was getting ready to die.
Against a Wall (Alice/Jasper, Human/Vampire AU, Romance, Angst, PG) If you asked anyone with the surname ‘Whitlock’, they’d tell you that the family was cursed. It was the Whitlock Curse to blame the day the bank took the ranch away from Jasper’s own father.      
And Found (Alice/Jasper, Soulmark AU, Romance, PG) The soul mark appears when Alice is six. It is a twisted ribbon of a mark, from the inside of her left elbow, up her arm, over her shoulder, along her clavicle, over her right shoulder and down to her right wrist. What ugly, soulless individual could inspire such a mark?
Jar of Hearts Pt 1 Pt 2 (WIP) (Alice, Emmett, Seth, MCU xover, Angst, PG) The snap came for everyone - “He said he’d never leave me,” she says in a wobbly voice. “He promised me.”“It wasn’t by choice,” Emmett rushes to tell her. “You were his last thought; he tried so hard to get home before he…”
Never a Question (Alice/Jasper, AU, Angst, G)  Carlisle is quite sure that he’s watching his son’s heart break into a million pieces as he stares at his human mate, slowly dying alone, not a single person allowed to hold her hand.
Hand in Hand (Alice/Jasper, AU, Fluff, G)  “Never,” he swears, pressing a kiss to her cheek that makes her beam -  “There’s not a single moment I can think of that cannot be improved by your presence, darlin’.”
Love & Duty (Alice/Jasper, AU, Romance, G)  A trainee witch is sent to treat a wounded cowboy from her brother coven. 
Shadow to Light (WIP) (Alice/Jasper, AU Angst, PG) In 1918, Jasper lures the newborn known as Mary-Alice back to Monterrey. He is lost to her before it even begins. (Ch 6-8)
The Way of Things (Alice/Jasper, AU, Drama, M)  She truly doesn’t know what comes next. He truly doesn’t know if it will be good or bad. They will live this life for as long as it lasts, long may it last, surrounded by the people they love and trust. 
What You Say (Alice/Jessamine, Canon, Angst, M)  Edward might have thought Aro was their reckoning, but Alice knows for her, it is Jessamine’s hurt.
Total number of completed stories: ELEVEN. 
Total word count: 90,155 words were formally posted - not including snippets, previews (aside from FicMas) or anything that was shared on the Discord server. 
Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I fucking nailed it. Like, seriously. THREE chapters of Shadow to Light? Every single day of JaliceWeek AND FicMas? I mean, I think the lockdown definitely helped with free time, and not going to lie, the iOS shutdown of Fortnite probably assisted my productivity. 
What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? The Discord has so much to answer for. I wrote porn. Like, what. What. What. What. I find this bizarre and did not have ‘let’s just go full NC17 in 2020′ on my bingo card, but it happened. In fact, 2019 Lexie has just gone full spit-take and yelled, “WHAT?!” at the top of her lungs. 
And to make it more surprising, it’s both het and f/f porn. Like, mind-blown. Who am I anymore?
What’s your own favourite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? The Way of Things, What You Say, And Found, & Afterglow. All fics that came together really well, that felt like *me*, and had hopeful endings. I’m really proud of them. 
STL doesn’t get an opportunity to be apart of this til it’s finished. 
Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? The porn. 
Apparently, I can write it. Who knew? 
I definitely threw caution to the wind with JaliceWeek and just went for whatever crossed my mind and stopped worrying so much. Like, whatever, this is what I want to write so I will. I mean, the MCU crossover is happening in a slightly more obscure way than I initially envisaged it, it’s definitely a better fic for it.
I joined the Discord, and that’s been amazing. I’ve spent my last few fandoms existing in kind of a vacuum because of bad experiences and the fact I’m usually doing something niche, so having people to talk to who are so nice and welcoming and are happy to ignore my special brand of obnoxiousness is so lovely and has had such a good affect on my mental health. Sometimes you need people you can be your dorkiest self with. 
My instincts are pretty good as far as fic goes, people are awesome, and I can write sex scenes. It’s been a learning curve, let me tell you that. 
Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?  I have to balance grad school, my business, and my writing, so that’s going to be interesting. I think I need to look at my fic more as downtime than a high-stress ‘job’ because I LOVE writing it. I love writing. I love reading. But I get in my own head and overthink. So my goals are BALANCE and RELAX. 
My best story of this year: Oh man, that’s not something I can judge. I am so incredibly proud of how Afterglow, And Found, and The Way of Things turned out. Especially considering I was so behind with JaliceWeek, and I think I was putting out a fic a day, and freaking out because I was lacking ideas, so when these three just came together exactly how I wanted them, it was a good moment. 
My most popular story: Shadow to Light. Look, if that’s my legacy to fandom, I’ve done pretty damn well. I’m really, really appreciative of how enthusiastic people are about this ‘verse. I don’t always understand it, because I can see how my writing has changed and how the story has evolved massively (first it was supposed to be a one-shot, then five chapters.) I hope that it ends up being satisfying for everyone because I have LOVED writing it, even if I am slower than molasses. 
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Everyone is always so damn enthusiastic about my writing. I think maybe Hybrid is kind of a big question mark for everyone at the moment because there are so many questions and no answers yet. 
And any of the Jessamine/Alice. That’s a new niche, I get not everyone is into it. But it’s happening and will continue into 2020.
Most fun story to write:  What You Say or Jess and Alice at Prom. Jess is a little snarkier than Jasper, less controlled, and the girls are super fun to write, even high-tension scenes. 
Most Sexy Story: Oh, I can answer this now! Um, maybe The Way of Things or Jess and Alice at Prom? Yup, those are my picks. 
Story with the single sexiest moment:  The Way of Things. This happened before the Discord Intervention, and I’m genuinely not sure if I’m happy with the end of the Prom fic, so it might be reworked slightly in the future. But The Way of Things I was really happy with because it covered so many ideas I had in a way that fit together well. 
That’s where she makes good on her unspoken promises from aeons again, of their private victory celebration. She sits astride him, her hips rolling hard against his, drawing out his groans and growls as he grips her thighs almost tight enough to crack. Their gazes are locked the entire time, her tongue skimming over her lips, as she lets her emotions tell him everything that she wants and everything she plans to take.
He remembers fucking her in the dirt in Dacia; his mouth between her legs as she hollered obscenities in a Paris attic; and the urgent, passionate loving-making of a marriage finally consummated.
She remembers bloody emeralds looped around her throat and resting between her breasts as she gets down on her knees and takes him into her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair; the delicious weight of him on top of her, their sweat mingling and cooling in the frozen night as their flimsy bed creaked against the wall; and his soft encouragement in her ear as he grasps her around the waist, their hands resting together on the gentle swell of her stomach. 
Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: I think I restrained myself from anything too dark or twisted this year, actually. Oh, wait, Vampires in Vegas. That one has some pretty dark implications about Alice’s life, about the vampire underworld, and Jasper’s behaviour, especially as it goes one. No fic that deals with someone being put into sex work without educated consent is going to avoid being dark, and I think it’s logical that vampires would have their hands in a lot of illegal yet profitable areas. 
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: Anything with Jessamine/Alice because, like, Jess isn’t a name-swap of Jasper, and the relationship dynamic shifts with the slight personality shifts. And then you have to consider the family and social dynamic of two women in the relationship, so working all that out was fun. 
Jar of Hearts is another one, because I had to work out who the fic was going to follow and what was lost. And Emmett and Alice pretty much don’t interact in canon, but they were chosen for a reason. I’ve stripped them down to their worst, most isolated selves without their ‘true north’ (Rose and Jasper) or their moral center (Carlisle and Esme), or even their secret weapon (Edward). Seth, too, has been isolated from his family and friends, and is especially ‘other’ in this situation. This is an MCU crossover, so we’re kind of following a heroes’ journey with the last of Forks’ supernatural creatures.
Hardest story to write: Shadow to Light because of the way I have to use language, because of the plot strands from canon when I hate writing canon material, and how the characters have changed and how this new version reflects the old version. 
Against a Wall, as well, because of the in-verse time crunch I had - I needed Jasper damaged, military-minded, and changed by age 19. And I needed the boy broken. I’m happy with it, the story is done and dusted, but it didn’t quite turn out how I planned. And that’s okay, because I like this version. But I think I tackled something a lot bigger than I anticipated with it. 
Most disappointing:  Look, I love the verse and the set-up, but I think Love & Duty could do with another 2k words for build-up. I just ran out of time, honestly, to build up that mutual attraction between Alice and Jasper. 
Easiest story to write: Anathema, because Alice’s voice was so clear in it. Anathema!Alice knows exactly who she is, and that’s always fun. And the Shadow to Light Missing Scene; it wasn’t as long as I hoped, but it turned out exactly as I imagined it happening. 
Biggest surprise:  Everyone really, really liked Forgotten. And Vampires in Vegas, which I honestly thought were the weakest offerings during FicMas. 
Most unintentionally telling story:  The Way of Things. There’s so little dialogue, and it’s covering such a massive amount of time and story that it’s intentionally written to tell. 
Story I’d like to revise: Love & Duty, and Married in Vegas. A little polish, a little shine, it’s fine. For Love & Duty, it’s definitely the time crunch I need to go back and fix; for Married in Vegas, it’s just reflective of how long ago I started it. I’m a better writer, I know the characters more, and I’m less prone to overly dramatic plot twists. 
Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear: Look, let me lay the groundwork now so that no one who isn’t on the Discord isn’t startled. 
There’s going to be a Jess/Jasper/Alice threesome fic, and I regret nothing. 
I really, really want to get All These Broken Things redone and posted because it’s getting silly how long it’s just been sitting there. 
I want to actually write Monster, which is a fic I don’t talk about much but I want to write. It’s a question about who the monster of the story is, and I’m not sure I’m as skilled as I should be, to write it, but I want to try. 
And one of my numerous attempts at a Haunted House Cryptid fic. It has to happen, I have so many ideas!
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chaoticneutralwriter · 5 years ago
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Second Act: Temperance
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Better a patient man than a warrior, a man who controls his temper than one who takes a city. -- Proverbs 16.32  NIV
guardian demon!Jimin x reader
genre: supernatural, angst, romance, comedy, fluff, slice-of-life
word count: 11.8k
Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon! Jimin
Continuation of Twice Fallen
Warnings: violence, strong language, and slight body horror
A/N: WOW THIS. TOOK. FOREVER. I’m gonna real with yall, this took a lot of re-writes. Heed the warnings please, and also if you haven’t read Twice Fallen or anything before that, please do because we’re getting back into business. Thank you for all your patience! T^T <3
Tags as per requested! @cherryjiminiee​ @kokobaekkie​ @breathebangtan​ @itsadoozie​ @thatshylatinagirl​ @chiminieboi​ @azulamakesmeblank​ @sectumsemptae
When you’re a supernatural being who was born in either heaven or hell, no one tells you what happens after you die. It’s almost unanimously agreed upon by both parties (probably one and few very rare things they can agree on), that your existence simply ceases to exist. At least, those with no significance to their names — Satan for example, in the case that they’re ever killed, will not perish but be reborn again, for they are absolute, meant to be a vital part to the balance of the universe. After all, there cannot be light without darkness.
Then there are the optimists, those who whisper and gossip about how one can have their names engraved amongst the stars or brimstone if they manage to accomplish a great deed that’s worth being remembered in their lifetime. Jimin doesn’t remember there being actual proof of that so he counted himself as a skeptic amongst many others because when it comes down to it, they are expendable beings, pawns to those above them. Maybe that’s where those rumours were born; from the underlying fear of every angel or demon alike being forgotten after meeting their unfortunate demise. Once you’re gone from this life, there is no second chance.
Which is why it’s strange to Jimin that he is very much acutely aware of himself and his stream of conscious when he most definitely shouldn’t be, not after taking a sip of holy water no less. But here he was, still thinking and forming thoughts. He tries to make sense of it all, and it takes him a while because it’s like his mind is muddy, groggy as if he had just roused from a very deep slumber only, it feels like he’s still dreaming. There’s a certain weightlessness about him, like he’s floating underwater, neither sinking to its depths nor rising to the surface but simply being held, suspended with nowhere to go.
He can’t see anything as far as he could tell, what with not even knowing whether his eyes are shut or not but there is nothing else — no sound, no smell, and nothing beneath his fingers to touch. It’s almost serene, Jimin would go as far as to say he wouldn’t mind staying like this but something in him tells him no, he shouldn’t. It continues to gnaw at him until pieces of what seem like distant memories start to appear before him; a face, the sounds of voices, the smell of lavender….
Jimin concentrates, trying hard to grasp at these strands that seem to slip away but in doing so he begins to feel other things, like slowly, his senses are coming back to him. The first thing he notices is that he’s cold. There’s an icy chill in the air that seems to have settled itself deep into his bones and had made every joint in his body stiff to move, even his fingers. Stubbornly, Jimin tries to move them, feeling like he had to summon some herculean strength to be able to do so and still, managing to just make them twitch. In that brief moment however, the pads brush against something beneath them.
Is that…grass?
There’s a growing metallic taste in his mouth, it makes him swallow reflexively but it only triggers a burning sensation in his throat.
Jimin can feel the soil beneath where he lies now, when only moments ago he swore he was —  no, he should be…
Lying on the marble floor.
The burning gets worse now, rapidly spreading across his body until like a bolt of electricity, it comes rushing to him all at once.
The basilica.
The prayer.
The chalice.
And then the blinding pain.
A loud, choked gasp escapes past Jimin’s lips; his first real breath in what seems like an eternity and he greedily continues to take in lungfuls despite the burning. He doesn’t know where he is anymore, only that there is no longer grass beneath him and that he probably looks like a dying fish out of water (he certainly feels like one). It doesn’t even feel like he’s completely in control of his body yet either because he has no feeling in any of his limbs so all he could do is lay there and regain his breathing, managing them down to shaky pants. His vision is blurry like he’s seeing through foggy glass and at times it wavers until he sees double, making him feel nauseous. Jimin blinks, desperately trying to have them focus. As they do, he begins to make out shapes and colours until they all come together to create a clearer image.
Gold trimmings, towering columns, high dome ceilings….
He’s back in the basilica.
Jimin doesn’t know whether to be thankful of that or not.
He continues to lay there for a while longer, mind still numb and in hopes of regaining some strength to attempt to move himself. He starts off small; first his fingers, then his hands, and eventually once he gets most of his feelings back in his limbs, he tries to sit up. Of course, that was too optimistic on Jimin’s part because as soon as he puts on any amount of force, his muscles scream out in protest, causing him to moan out in pain. He’s forced to remain immobile for another while longer, waiting for the millions of needle like pinpricks to subside. When they do, he tries again. It’s a slow, agonizing process but through sheer stubbornness and gritted teeth, Jimin successfully rolls himself over until he rests on his side.
He’s out of breath again, a sheen of sweat forming along his brows that even resting his forehead against the marble floor is not cooling enough. After a few more moments, Jimin forces himself to move, determined to drag himself to the clear panel wall in front of him, even if it means crawling there. From there, at least he knows he’ll have a better chance at righting himself up if he has something to lean against. It takes another excruciating amount of effort, a lot of grunting and hissing before with overwhelming relief, his fingers touch the panel and he’s making that last stretch to hauling himself up until he’s slouched haphazardly against the thick glass.
Ignoring the ache in his limbs, Jimin lets his eyes slip shut, leaning his head back if only to take a moment to finally assess his situation and let things sink in.
First and foremost, he’s alive. Everything insanely hurts and he feels on the verge of death still, but somehow even after all of that he’s still in one piece. Or at least, he thinks so…
Tiredly, he peels open his eyes to do a quick sweep of what he can see; two legs even if it feels like he doesn’t have them, a torso, arms, hands, all ten fingers, a head…
Jimin’s head thumps as he goes back to resting it against the glass and he hisses, wincing in regret. Yup definitely there, and probably shouldn’t have done that.
His eyes drift to take in his surroundings. The basilica is still empty and as quiet as ever, void of any signs of life with nothing but the reliefs of angels and saints as his company. This makes Jimin’s brows furrow in confusion; just how long has he been out for? A minute? An hour? Days or maybe even longer? He doesn’t have any sense of time at all right now, and it slowly stirs up a panic in his gut. Frantically, he searches for a window, a doorway, anything that will help him determine the time of day but as he does, Jimin starts to recognize the faces carved into the niches of these pillars, recalling how he could’ve sworn he’d seen them on his way into the building so there was no way they should be here, all the way at the apse —
Belatedly, he pieces together the fact that it’s him who’s not where he thought he was. So caught up with trying not to pass out for the second time, Jimin had failed to realize that he had woken up in another part of the basilica and with no recollection of how he got there. His head lolls, eyes trailing up the length of thick glass before straying past the barrier until they meet the sorrowful marble face of Mary, cradling the body of her dead son on her lap.
The Pieta.
Jimin’s mouth twitches and if it didn’t hurt so much, he would’ve actually laughed.
Like rubbing salt onto a wound, how unbelievable.
He disregards the obvious jab for more pressing matters, like how when he finally finds some form of light streaming into the basilica across the way from him, it had turned out to be the same pale blue glow of the moon as when he had first arrived. Frustration threatens to boil over him as Jimin clenches his jaw, inhaling deeply in an attempt to collect himself. Regardless, if it was a minute, an hour, or even a day, it is still way too long for his liking.
Swallowing thickly, Jimin tries to summon the energy to reach out to his powers in order to apparate but like with everything else, he struggles in finding that pull in his drastically weakened state. It doesn’t help that every time he tries, the pounding in his head worsens until he’s dizzy all over again. He’s almost begging with himself at this point, overwhelmed with the need to find that familiar tug, his only way out, shutting his eyes to push aside the exhaustion that he wants to succumb to so badly. Finally, with every ounce of strength he can muster, Jimin feels it, so faint that it’s almost not there that the moment it’s within reach, he grabs onto it desperately, holding on with only the thought of ‘home’ left to guide him.
-
Your forced smile drops from your face, a heavy sigh leaving you as soon as the customer walks away from your register. You don’t know how many times you’ve done it since you started your shift but it’s become more like a coping mechanism to keep yourself from completely losing it than you simply being tired. You’re about three days away from hopping on a plane with your friend to see BTS and live out your best life, if only for a short while but instead of being jittery with excitement, you’re an absolute ball of anxiety. And thanks to that, it gets in the way of every little thing. You don’t know how many times you’ve tried to pack your things, only to unpack them, second guess yourself and then end up back with what you started it in the first place; no toiletries, half of your travel essentials and a haphazard pile of clothes with no coherent outfits put together.
It makes for the remaining shifts you had to do more draining than they usually are, your mind not focusing on the menial tasks you’re supposed to be doing and instead, choosing to race with a million different thoughts a minute — all of which are worries that centre around the concert. Your friend and fellow concert buddy had messaged you earlier that day asking you about the finer details that you too would love to know about the trip, unintentionally adding fuel to your mounting anxiety. You don’t blame her of course, because it’s a very valid thing to worry about but you feel awful that the only thing you could do was apologize and reassure her that you would let her know as soon as possible.
But above all else, your worries come to a head when you think about one specific guardian demon.
Jimin has yet to reply to any of your text messages, not even the ones that don’t necessarily ask him of his whereabouts. You’re someone who respects and understand the meaning of space, hell you’re even guilty of not speaking to close friends for insanely long periods of times too because everyone’s got lives to live but even you at least still receive and reply to random check-ins when you can.
Jimin didn’t even leave you on read, and you would’ve been completely fine if he had.
At least then you would know he’s doing okay.
The sigh comes out again before you can stop it; you really need to just...lie down and not think for an hour or two. By the time you clock out, you’re more than relieved to be leaving if only to save yourself the embarrassment of not functioning as a proper human being in public. As you approach the front entrance however, you catch sight of the heavy overcast skies and the light drizzle beginning to fall. You groan to yourself — you had expected the forecast to call for rain, but it was just your luck that it would start as soon as you finish work. Which was why in your lack of better judgement, you didn’t bring an umbrella.
Commuting was going to be a bitch.
Not wanting to stall in case the rain picks up, you suck it up and hurriedly make your way to the bus stop, glad for at least having the shelter to shield you if only for a bit. Much to your dismay however, the rain comes down heavier by the time you get off at your stop and when you finally burst through your door, it had turned into a full on torrential rainstorm. You huff, trying to catch your breath from having to sprint so suddenly before reaching down to fling off your now soaked shoes. You also immediately remove your equally soaked socks with a grimace, hating the wet squelch they make as you leave them hanging off the wire shoe rack; you’ll toss them into the laundry along with the rest of the clothes on your back once you’ve changed.
You head to the kitchen first, intending to store your overpriced bagel and ice coffee you decided to run and get during your lunch but never ended up eating more than a few bites because of how long it took for your order to be made. You go to flick on the lights, the house much darker than it is at three in the afternoon thanks to the ominous clouds and downpour outside (you think you hear the faint rumbling of thunder now too). You hear the click of the switch but to your surprise, the kitchen remains just as dark. You blink, perplexed and in disbelief.
Huh…
Your fingers flick the switch a couple of more times, eyes darting to the lights above to confirm that yup, they don’t work — is the storm that bad that there’s a power outage? The blinking digital clock of the microwave says otherwise, its indication telling you that there had probably been a power surge but by all means, you should still have electricity right now. Maybe it’s a blown bulb then?
Ugh. You’ll deal with it later. Right now, you want to get out of your t-shirt and jeans that’s slowly drying but sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You check the other lights as you make your way to your room, curious to see if any of them work (they don’t) and as you approach your door, you catch the scent of something, something that oddly smells like….burnt wood?
You continue sniffing, mind doubtful because the scent comes and goes so in the end, you’re not sure if it’s there or you’re simply imagining it. Shaking your head, you push open the door and as soon as you do, you freeze. You feel your eyes widen as they zero in on an unmoving mass lying a few feet across your doorway. You can’t discern what it is, it being half hidden behind the foot of your bed that juts out and the lack of good lighting but all you do know is that it’s big and most definitely shouldn’t be in your room. You shakily reach for your phone, grasping it tightly into your hand, mind racing for explanations — is it a large animal? How did it get in? Or worse, are you looking at a person?! Are they dead or alive? Did you unknowingly walk into your own home while it was in the middle of being burglarized?!
The never-ending questions quickly begin to make the panic rise within and you fight to keep your breathing calm, unheard. You’re deep in your flight or fight mode and right now, it’s telling you you need to get the hell out of here while this…thing is still unaware of your presence. Just when you move to shift your weight, fully intending on backing away and bolting the hell out of your front door like a bat out of hell, a flash of lightening streaks across the sky outside, illuminating your room briefly. You flinch but quickly stop all movements at what you had just seen.
It was only for a second but it was enough. If you were to look back on this moment, you would’ve thought just how fortunate the timing of it all was, how if it hadn’t been for the storm and the lightening, you would’ve just left without looking back.
But right now, you feel your heart cracking alongside the resounding thunder that followed.
It’s…It’s not— It can’t be, you think but already you know what you saw; you recognize his lithe figure anywhere. Your breath comes out so shallowly you think you’re barely breathing, numbly stumbling forward despite your body gripped in an ice cold fear. You almost don’t want to go any closer because of what you might find.
You don’t want your last memories of him to be of his corpse.
When you’re about a foot away from his body, you muster every nerve in you to bring your phone up, knuckles white from clenching them so hard, fumbling until you’re able to turn on the flash. The sudden flooding of light blinds you momentarily but as your eyes readjust, a gasp loudly tears itself from your lips.
Jimin is motionless before you, head lolled to one side with eyes shut as if he was merely asleep, only you don’t see the steady rise and fall of his chest no matter how much you searched. Legs feeling weak, you drop down to kneel beside him, eyes trembling as you take in his profile. His skin is sickly in colour, pale as a ghost against the harsh light of your phone, lacking in any of the warm honey tone that makes him seem to glow from the inside. It comes off almost translucent, dark spidery veins snaking along his jaw, neck and, from the dip in his stained shirt, his collarbones, appearing so much more prominent that they look like cracks in fine porcelain, ready to break at the slightest touch. You see the bruising under his eyes, traveling down his cheek which are ruddy with remnants of what looked like ink stains, much like the ones on his shirt.
“J-Jimin….” Your voice breaks, his name coming out in a quiet whimper. He doesn’t respond and you feel so lost and so helpless; not understanding why or how this could happen to him but more so, what you can do to save him.
You reach out a shaky hand, fingers clasping at his shoulder to give him a shake, “Jimin, hey… p-please….this— this isn’t….”
No response still.
Your throat tightens before you can get any more words out. Desperately swallowing past the lump, you try hard not to let it overwhelm you as your hand trails to his neck, hoping, praying to find a pulse there, however faint it may be.
Just as your fingers press into the delicate skin, you see a flash of amber and suddenly your wrist is being clamped down by an iron grip, sharp nails digging into your skin and twisting it in a painful angle that has the breath knocked out of you in a startled yelp. Crimson eyes bore into your own, the shock of seeing slitted pupils that stare at you with such an intensity, you can’t help but shrink back. The irises glow, shifting like flickering flames made even more vibrant against the black that’s taken over where the white of the sclera should be, a dark endless abyss that threatens to swallow you whole. It sends every nerve in your body on edge, telling you that you need to run from this threat but you fight against the instinct because though the grip on your wrist is bruising, you feel the faint tremors behind it — he’s hurt and vulnerable, but most of all, he’s scared.
“Jimin…” You call softly, watching as those crimson orbs flicker with recognition before the hostile edge fades away and the grip on your wrist is released.
“….Y/N…” He breathes tiredly, utterly exhausted. His voice comes out so much hoarser, throat raw as if he’d been screaming nonstop but the sound alone is enough to have tears well up in your eyes. You can only find it in you to nod in affirmation, not trusting yourself to speak lest you wanted to end up breaking down. You sniffle and when you regain your composure, your eyes immediately focus on him and now that he’s conscious, you’re finally able to see the extent of his injuries. The sight makes your eyes widen, sharply inhaling until you swear you stop breathing altogether.
Whereas one half of his face was marred by unnatural dark fissures and bruised, ghostly skin, the other half barely had any left. The skin looks as if it had been torn away, starting from the highest point of his cheek, grazing just below his eye, all the way down past one side of his nose and lips and ending at the base of his throat. Though the ragged edges of the wound look irritated, in other places they look burnt in a way flesh is not supposed to be, like paper that has been caught on fire instead. Beneath it all….
You swallow with a shudder, bile rising in your throat. You’re not sure what it is that you’re seeing, even in the brightness of your phone’s flashlight, dropped and forgotten on the floor beside you. The wound still looks to be fresh, dyed in such a deep shade of red that it almost appears black and more tar-like than it does blood. You’re shaking as if you had been doused by cold water, not being able to comprehend the severity of it, the sheer size of the abrasion alone made it just look like one, big gaping hole.
Just…Just what on earth could have done this to him?
It felt like an eternity before your eyes dare to meet Jimin’s but when they do, you’re startled to find that he had been watching you the entire time through half lidded eyes, the light of his crimson irises now nothing more than that of a dying candle. Without thinking, you’re reaching out to him, not knowing whether to comfort, aid or simply anchor him down somehow, afraid that at any moment he’ll just vanish and there’s nothing you can do about it.
To your shock, icy fingers brush against your palms, making goosebumps erupt along your arm before they wound around your wrist again, this time in a loose hold to halt your movements. The touch is gentle, apologetic in the way he caresses the sore tendon with feather-like strokes for something you yourself had completely forgotten about, so trivial compared to what Jimin had gone through.
“Don’t…” He whispers, straining from the effort alone. He’s trying so hard to keep himself awake and it only makes you more anxious, leaning closer to him, even if it sounds like he wanted you to stay away.
“W-What happened….” You manage to choke out, eyes frantically searching his for answers. “I-I don’t…I don’t understand….I—Why���“ Your voice cracks, pitching with hysteria. “Please Jimin, tell me — tell me what to do please! Wh— Where’s Jungkook?! Tell me how to find him! He can—”
“No…!” Jimin’s harsh tone cuts you off, followed by a pained groan. Alarmed, you see him try to push himself up on his elbows and immediately your arm shoots out to steady him. “I-I just…need to r-rest…”
His voice trails off before suddenly his body falls back, completely going limp. The vehement protest dies on your tongue as you rush to catch him instead.
Your cries of his name go unheard, lost to the pattering of the heavy rainfall outside with the storm showing no signs of stopping.
-
Consciousness creeps back into the demon with the sounds of his steadily beating heart — a shock really, because Jimin was sure that apparating such a great distance in the weakened state he was in would be the final push he needed in order to finally kick the bucket.
His lids feel heavy, head pounding in tandem with his heart but somehow not as bad before, allowing him to peel open his eyes to vaguely make out the texture of your plain white ceiling. In spite of his body still feeling sluggish, Jimin is lying comfortably, aware of the plush pillow under his head, the soft mattress and cotton sheets he’s nestled in, a welcome change from constantly waking up on the floor. He takes a moment to relish in the warmth and the scent of you, mind still much too foggy to think of trying to sit up and so he lays there, lamenting on the events that seemed like they took place during the last few weeks rather than a mere few days.
When Jimin had arrived to your place, he had been so disoriented with himself that he didn’t even know where he had ended up, wondering whether he had successfully teleported himself back to the same country you were in, let alone your room. What he did know however, was that he had indefinitely depleted whatever remains of his powers he was able to summon completely, leaving him even more vulnerable and exposed than when he had first awoken but all he could do was fall back into unconsciousness again.
Which was why the sight of you had been so overwhelming for him, a sigh of relief from all the uncertainties and fears that had manifested itself in his subconscious for the next time he would open his eyes (if he opens his eyes). But all of it was short-lived as he had watched the colour drain from your face, body tensing and eyes widening in horror —
At him.
He didn’t need to ask why, already seeing the red of his irises that had glowed so vibrantly that he could see them reflected in your own glossy ones.
An unavoidable side effect, one that he should’ve anticipated but had simply slipped his mind because….Well, he wasn’t thinking at all at the moment. So he doesn’t hold anything against you for reacting the way you did — he just wished that it still stopped the pang of hurt that had shot through his chest when you did. A grimace pulls at his lips at the memory; he wanted so badly to turn away and hide himself, not wanting you to see him like that ever but he had had no strength and so what’s done is done. His jaw clench, mentally cursing himself for being so careless and now he loathes, dreads the thought of facing you.
A faint rustling pulls Jimin out of his self-deprecating thoughts and he turns slightly to the noise, eyes landing on the very being who haunts his every waking thought.
You’re asleep in a chair that’s been pulled up beside him, head resting on top of your folded arm that’s placed on the remaining bed space. Already, Jimin can tell that you’re going to wake up with a sore back, wondering how it’s possible that you can even sleep in such an uncomfortable position but when his gaze drifts to your face, he begins to doubt any fitful sleep you may have had. Your brows are furrowed like all of your troubles have followed you to your dreams and your breathing too quick that Jimin thinks you will wake at any moment. Loose strands of hair fall messily across your cheek, the tendrils nearly obscuring his view of you yet look so soft that his fingers twitch to brush them away. He’s surprised that they do, as if they have a mind of its own but even more so when he finally feels a weight placed atop of his hand.
Your fingers are curled around his own, so much warmer against his cooler skin that he fears yours will eventually turn clammy if you continue to hold on. He should pull away but your touch is a comfort he didn’t know he needed and he can’t help but to linger a little longer, tentatively sliding his hand until his palm meets yours, traitorous thoughts wondering how your hand would compare against his. At the last second however, the movement disturbs you and you rouse from your sleep with a startled flinch, like you had not meant to have fallen asleep in the first place.
Jimin stills, not wanting to frighten you any further as you blearily regain your composure, one hand coming up to rub at your eyes tiredly before they automatically drift to meet his own.
A soft gasp falls from your lips, nearly leaping to your feet as your eyes wide in surprise at seeing Jimin awake in front of you. He stares at you in an almost cautious manner, the burning crimson glow no longer present and instead his irises are back to soft brown hues. More importantly though, the wound marring half of his face had healed completely, leaving not even a trace of a scar behind. To your shock, the tear had mended itself slowly over the course of the two days you were tending to Jimin. You didn’t understand at first but you had worked it to being something relating to his demonic powers. Either way, you were glad to see because it meant that he was recovering, you not knowing where to even begin helping an injured demon.
He’s still much paler than you would like him to be, but him being awake is more than enough for you. It makes you hope that this isn’t a lucid dream you’ve created out of wishful thinking. So before you can stop yourself, you reach a hand out uncertainly until they cup against the smooth apples of his cheek and like a heavy weight being lifted from your shoulder, you sigh out, relieved.
“Hi…” You whisper, so quietly you think he might not have heard it.
Jimin blinks slowly, a myriad of emotions flitting through his eyes before he rasps back, “…Hey…”
A watery smile breaks out across your lips along with a shaky laugh and you fight the tears that threaten to spill over. Jimin catches on before you can try to hide them, brows furrowing before he strains to sit upright.
“Hey, don’t push yourself already…” You reprimand, hand moving to his shoulder to steady him.
“It’s fine…I’m fine…” He assures but you’re not entirely convinced, catching him wincing even as he manages to lean back against your wall. The sheets slip off his torso then, exposing toned abdominals and lean muscles in all its glory. Your cheeks heat, having completely forgotten that you had removed his shirt in order to assess any underlying injuries along with the fact that the luxurious chiffon material had been completely ruined. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw how his arms and torso were littered with dark bruises and gave you a better look at his hands which had been stained black, as if dipped in ink, from the tips of his fingers to his forearm. Now, you’re glad to see that they too, for the most part, have disappeared. But injuries aside, what had also caught your attention was a tattoo, etched so delicately into the skin on the left side of his built chest.
You’re not as surprised to find that it’s of a circled pentagram, tilted on an axis with unrecognizable ruins inscribed at each point of the star. Within the negative spaces were images of what you think was a crescent moon, smaller pentagrams and other symbols that remind you oddly of Wicca ones overlapping within the star, the ink fading in and out in certain places. It makes you wonder if at some point, they had been more prominent.
“My eyes are up here you know.”
Your eyes snap up to his, not even realizing you had been giving him a once-over but in spite it being all out of pure worry for his health, you still feel like you were caught eyeing him lasciviously by the way his lips curl ever so slightly. You bite your lip, averting your gaze self-consciously, heart thundering and squeezing with a flurry of mixed emotions.
“That’s not— I wasn’t…”
Your hand retracts from his, choosing to curl them closely on your lap and almost immediately Jimin regrets his thoughtless comment.
“Sorry, that was — that was very tasteless of me….” He says while scowling at himself and lowering his head, almost shamefaced. “I’m sure all of this was a big shock to you…”
You perk up, the tone in his voice catching your attention by how subdued it sounded. While yes, you did agree that the events leading up to this point had completely blindsided you and put you in a situation where you’ve never been more afraid in your life but not for the reasons Jimin thinks.
You don’t miss the implications he had behind his words, and you bristle at the audacity of his assumptions.
“Well, yeah.” You say, voice sour and shaking from restrained agitation. “After not seeing or hearing from you for days, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to show up in my room, unconscious and dying on my floor. Just what — “ You stop yourself then, noticing your rising volume and take in a deep breath, calming down enough to ask the one burning question that had been plaguing your mind, almost pleadingly, “What happened Jimin?”
His dark eyes flit to yours momentarily before they avoid them, a hand coming up to run through his now raven locks. The strands were a little damp at the ends, remnants of times where he had broken out into cold sweats while he was unconscious and then heating up so suddenly like he was running a fever. It had happened so often that you had kept a cold towel by the bedside, pressing it to his burning skin in hopes of alleviating the discomfort. You don’t think you had slept those nights.
“…Just had a bad run in with things cherub — completely my fault, but nothing to worry about.” Jimin sighs out, licking dry lips. His answer is vague and clipped, less than satisfactory for you and it’s all the more obvious that he’s done it to avoid the subject altogether when he immediately follows with, “How long have I been out for?”
Your mouth opens, words of resentment ready at the tip of your tongue but then something in you makes you pause. You hesitate as self-doubting thoughts begin to brew, clashing with your worries yet not wanting to come off as overbearing. You hate pushing someone for answers when they clearly don’t want to talk about it, the feeling mutual with yourself, coupled with the fact that Jimin is also someone who’s very capable of handling himself (you’ve witnessed it firsthand multiple times). It does nothing but add to your current dilemma. You’re chewing on your bottom lip when you feel eyes on you and you realize you haven’t responded to Jimin’s question. He waits patiently, face carefully neutral but the fatigue still evident on his features makes you exhale in a heavy sigh, deciding to let it slide for now and hope that he would come around eventually.
“Two days.” You supply, watching as he takes in the news before he blinks in realization.
“If I’m right, then you’re leaving tomorrow for the concert.”
You mirror his expression — the concert. That had been the last thing on your mind ever since he came back.
“..Oh, yeah…I—I guess so.”
“I’ll send your flight details and tickets to you, along with your hotel.”
The nonchalance in which he says that unnerves you a little, making your gut constrict the same way it would when you get a bad feeling about something. It doesn’t sit right with you that Jimin, who’s barely been awake for an hour, is still so adamant on seeing your trip through when here you are, actually toying with the idea that maybe….
“…Maybe I shouldn’t go…”
It comes out small, timid but Jimin’s eyes are upon you almost as soon as you uttered the words.
“What are you talking about?” He asks incredulously. “You can’t seriously be talking about giving up seeing BTS right now, are you?”
“I— Well, yes I might actually? I mean, you’re in no condition to move, much less travel. It’s too risky for the both of us.”
Jimin pauses before he laughs, a short, breathy sound as he cocks his head at you. “Is that what you’re worried about? Oh cherub, you’re so sweet.”
You sputter, cheeks flushed and ready with an indignant reply when you see Jimin’s expression morphs into something softer, a sort of fond smile ghosting over his full lips as he continues, “As much as I appreciate your concerns, you don’t need to worry — I can assure you that, as with any demon, I heal fast. This was just one of the worser encounters I’ve had in a while.”
Your apprehension must still show on your face because the next thing you know, he reaches over and gives you a pinch on one of your cheek, sending your heart tumbling over itself. The gesture is quick but it leaves you effectively stunned in your seat.
“I’ll be fine by the time we need to go, so don’t say something you know you’ll regret. Now stop pouting and get to packing your bags already.”
When you pull yourself together, you find yourself incapable of resisting any longer, the butterflies in your stomach overrunning all sense of logic in you. With a stubbornness of a fifty year old man who doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong, you muster up just about the only thing you can get out from your quickly short-circuiting mind.
“….Jerk.”
-
With the help of Jimin’s nagging, you manage to pack decently enough so that you’ll survive away from home for the weekend. It was a process, filled with a lot of bickering yet strangely, it had been a welcoming distraction to you rather than an annoyance — an attempt at returning to some semblance of normalcy between the two of you from a rather scary event. Of course, you still wanted to know why Jimin had shown up so injured, but his growing liveliness had you believe that perhaps it’s not as a big of a deal as you make it to be, or at the very least, it muted the anxiety in you for the time being.
You busy yourself well into the evening but when you had returned from the bathroom after packing most of your toiletries however, you find to your dismay that Jimin had left with only a simple text message attached to two plane tickets, flight details and hotel check-ins.
“Sorry to have left without telling you, but I figured I should probably leave you to finishing up on packing and not risk getting caught by your roommate, unless that’s what you want to imply ;)
(You almost threw your phone out the window and k-word him yourself).
Don’t worry, I’m not going off to do something dangerous again — just wanted to stretch my legs is all. Anyways, I’ve attached your plane tickets, hotels and flight details with this message. It’s an early morning flight, so you should rest while you can since well, it must’ve been a rough two nights for you.
(Damn straight, you huff but your chest involuntarily squeezes anyways).
I promise I’ll see you at the terminal tomorrow okay?
Sweet dreams and… thanks.”
With that, you throw yourself face first into your pillow, letting out an anguished screech because what the fuck.
You hate this, hate how much of an effect he has on you but more so, hate how you know that, even if you try to resist, he’ll somehow still linger. If not as thoughts in your mind, then as the scent in your sheets.
-
His composure breaks like a rubber band pulled too taught the moment he’s away from your place. Jimin deflates, shoulders sagging and he rolls his neck uncomfortably, trying to loosen the muscles that are still too stiff for his liking. He hadn’t exactly lied to you about demons being really fast at healing from any injuries they might’ve sustained, but he didn’t exactly disclose one rather important detail.
Undergoing this ‘guardian angel’ process had seem to stunt his demonic powers, that much was obvious. Though the injuries he had were quite serious, demons like him would have recovered at least fifty percent of their powers within the time he had been resting (or unconscious).
He feels like he’s stuck at about twenty-five.
There’s an imbalance within him that he’s acutely aware of and it makes him feel uneasy. It’s like he’s still a demon and yet not at the same time, which seems impossible to even fathom but it’s the only way he can describe it.
Regardless, he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
Jimin grunts, abruptly pulled away from his brooding thoughts by a force colliding into his side. His eyes narrow instinctively from the disturbance as they zero in on the culprit, meeting a pair of startled hazel ones.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The young woman hastily gasps, holding up her hands in a placating manner. Jimin’s scowl falters momentarily, taking in her face and vaguely he thinks he recognizes her from somewhere. Was it the cafe he always visits? Or at a bar somewhere?
Ah, wait. It was at the department store you work at. She’s your co-worker, Emilyn, Emmy…. Whatever her name was, the one who he swears he had enthralled into working double time for you some weeks ago.
He dismisses her with a roll of his eyes, not sparing a second glance back as he takes off again because he really cannot be bothered. He intends on heading to a place where he can drown himself in some good whiskey and then maybe, maybe he’ll be in a better mood to figure this shit out. With all that he’s been through, he thinks he damn well deserves to treat himself to something nice.
Once he reaches the upscale bar, Jimin all but collapses into the bar chair, half slumping over the black marble counter, head in his hands. He’s thankful that the bartender wordlessly places a glass of whiskey by him but Jimin had secretly wished he had just given him the entire bottle. Still, he supposes beggars can’t be choosers at this point and he takes the half-filled glass and downs it in one go.
“Satan you’re alive!”
The glass slams down a lot harder in his mounting agitation, causing micro cracks to splinter up along the sides but that doesn’t stop the younger demon from straight up gawking at him like he came back with two extra heads and horns. Jimin glares at Jungkook with a look that could kill, eyes a muted red and aura so dark that the small crystal chandelier above them flickers briefly. Still, Jungkook remains relatively unfazed, leaning back if only to regard Jimin properly.
“Or I should say ‘barely’, you look like absolute shit.”
“You have exactly five seconds to give a good reason for being here before I discorporate you to fine ash and send you back in a mason jar.”
“I’m here to celebrate your survival of course! That’s something to be happy about, yes?” The younger demon demonstrates by waving down the bartender who responds back by presenting him with a tall glass of beer. He grabs it in toast, grin so cheeky it borderlines mocking as he says,”To you brother, the first of our kind to survive the holy baptism!”
Jungkook’s much too cheery demeanour is darkening Jimin’s already foul mood, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he exhales. It’s obvious now that Jungkook is well aware of the state Jimin is in, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t even be as cocky as he is now. A blow to his ego, but one where he would have to swallow his pride because as painful as it is, Jimin needs answers and Jungkook is the only one who would have anything remotely helpful at this point.
“Cut the bullshit; this is hardly celebratory when I feel like I’ve already got one foot through death’s door.”
Jungkook sips leisurely at his drink before he places the glass gently down with a satisfying smack of his lips. “That’s something you should expect when you had to do the things you did. Like I said, the process was never meant for demons because of the extreme amount of holy magic that’s involved — a sure death sentence to any who dares attempt it so for you to come back and relatively in one piece?” He pauses to whistle, genuinely impressed, “That is no small feat brother and for that, you have my exponential amount of respect.”
“But I still have my demonic powers. It’s weak but it’s still there and I’ve done everything you said so shouldn’t that make me a guardian angel already?”
“Well, you are,” Jungkook’s shoulders come up, dragging the last syllable out in a dramatic stall before he directs Jimin with a wry smile, already bracing himself as he takes in a breath before saying, “after you go through the trials.”
A beat passes.
And then an explosion of glass breaks the silence, causing the bartender to flinch from where they stood serving another patron at the other end, some nearby heads jerk to the noise but almost immediately turn away at the mere sight of Jimin alone.
The demon is absolutely fuming.
“There’s more?!” Jimin is up on his feet, towering over the younger as he roars, eyes burning. “And you didn’t bother to tell me, why?!”
“I didn’t think you would survive!”
Jungkook frantically holds up his hands, shrinking back in his seat and for the first time since they’ve sat down, a little frightened at the sheer wrath his senior exudes. The raven haired demon grits his teeth, lips pulled back into a frustrated snarl before he falls back into his seat again, head falling into his hands as they dig into his hair. He’s not sure if he can take much more of this mentally or physically, that one burst of rage alone had left him feeling more drained than anything. Maybe this is why no demon had attempted to transition back into a guardian angel before, aside from facing an imminent death — there were way too many hidden clauses.
“What other possible thing do I have to do to get a bloody badge of honour in the angels scout; sacrifice a lamb?”
“Oh you know, just your usual run of the mill trials to prove your will and faith to Him.” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully.


“Have I not proven my will and faith already.” Jimin growls in contempt, a low and vicious sound past clenched teeth. His knuckles bleed white from how hard he has them curled.
“Might want to watch your temper brother, it won’t do you any good if you wish to complete these tests.” A pointed glare directed at the younger has him flinching back, hands shooting up again in defence. “Sorry! But you know how Heaven is like — they’re big on the whole trials and tribulations thing. They don’t just want anyone joining their ranks.”
Jimin lets out a long, slow breath, trying to ease away the tension in his body only to no avail. He feels the incoming headache, can already feel how much worse it’s going to get from here on out, but he’s come this far and to quit now would not only be a waste, but a betrayal to his cause. So swallowing thickly, Jimin resigns.
“What do I have to do then?”
Jimin hates the pitying gaze Jungkook shoots, albeit briefly. He knows that the younger doesn’t understand why he’s putting himself through all this but that’s not what matters; as long as Jungkook can provide him with the answers he needs, Jimin doesn’t have to explain himself. As though sensing his resolve, Jungkook gives one last meaningful look before he sighs.
“Seven Acts.” He says, pauses, and then corrects. “Or I should say six, seeing as your stunt with poppet was, quite literally, your saving grace. Regardless, you must complete the others in redemption for all the things you’ve ever done only for yourself.”
“How comforting.” The reply is dripping with sarcasm.
It felt like an added weight has dropped onto his shoulders and all Jimin could do was accept it, shutting his eyes as it bears down on him. His hand instinctively reaches for his glass of whiskey but stops halfway once he realizes all that remains of it is bits of broken shards and lets it fall uselessly to his lap.
“It is the final task you must complete, and only then will Heaven acknowledge you.” Jungkook takes the time to slide his half empty beer towards Jimin though the older demon doesn’t reach for it. “It’s crucial, but even more so now because of what you are so be warned that if you give them any reason at all, the slightest slip up, they will show you no mercy.”
There’s no way that Jimin can refute that statement, even if Jungkook hadn’t said it outright. Still, the reality of it leaves him feeling a little numb, and so he remains quiet in his seat, lost in rampant thoughts. Jungkook watches his long time friend for a while longer, an amalgamation of his own emotions running through him as he takes in Jimin’s much more pallor face, the darkness that’s beginning to form under his eyes and the lethargy of his movements. A part of him doesn’t like seeing Jimin in such a way, a duller version of the person he used to know, such a strong and capable demon reduced to this.
And all for you.
A heavy sigh leaves Jungkook, the only response he can give because in truth, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Jimin has made his choice, had taken one step down the road where Jungkook had strayed and can no longer follow. In a sense of finality, he rises from his seat, preparing to take his leave.
“And this, I’m afraid, is where we must part ways. The path you have chosen to take is one where you must go on alone, bear your own cross. There is nothing more I can do for you here, brother.” He strides, stopping beside Jimin to rest a hand on his shoulder. “This might be the last time we’ll see each other. I would wish you well but….” He shrugs, almost too indifferently. “I’m not quite sure what will become of you.”
When he gets no response, Jungkook chews his lip before he gives one big pat and adds, “Hey, on the bright side though, you’re already one act down so what’s six more? Maybe if you live through this all, I might have to prostrate myself to you.”
Jimin finally can’t help but to softly chuckle, gazing up at Jungkook with a hint of fondness and no offence taken. “…Thank you, Ezazel.”
The younger demon cringes, shooting back a half glare.
“….It’s Ezzor now.”
Jungkook hates to see him like this, doesn’t completely understand why he would do this but another part of him, deep down, hopes that for all it’s worth, Jimin won’t end up regretting any of it.
-
Jimin sits for a while longer, his thoughts tumultuous as he nurses a new glass of whiskey. The bitterness of the alcohol intermingles with the shit storm that he’s found himself in. It was a lot to process, way more than what he had signed up for but through it all, he’s boiled it down to two things.
One, he was royally fucked.
Not only did he have to take a sip of holy water but now he has to essentially complete seven good deeds? That’s like asking an angel to commit murder on an innocent. It’s a whole load of bullshit if anyone asks him. But Jungkook was right — he shouldn’t even be surprised at this point anymore. As much as he loathes it, he has no choice but to play by their rules now if he wants to become a guardian angel.
Which brings him to the second, and most concerning thing for him; will he be able to continue his duty as your guardian effectively? On top of a new set of hurdles, Jimin has to deal with the dramatic reduction of his powers. Simple things, such as teleportation, used to be a second nature thing to him but now, they leave him with an uncomfortable strain on his body, like sore muscles after a long workout the next day. If things like that puts a strain on him now, he wonders, quite morbidly, what would happen if he attempted something that would require even the slightest bit more power?
Perhaps your worries aren’t so unwarranted after all, but that still doesn’t mean he’ll admit to it. He’ll just have to be more careful and cautious.
Eventually, Jimin leaves the dim bar, stepping out into the night with the mind to wander a little more aimlessly because there’s only so much downing three bottles of whiskey can do for him before he gets tired (and quite frankly, bored). Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he takes off in a direction, not caring where the street will lead him. The saying goes that there is no rest for the wicked but at times like this, Jimin really wishes he has the ability to sleep… Or at least, knock out from over drinking.
The blaring horn of a passing taxi pulls him from his thoughts, shoulders tensing briefly before Jimin blinks in realization. His walk has taken him to the busier and livelier part of the city, an array of people still out in the generously mild weather, some walking along the strip to enjoy the sights while others take advantage of the many sidewalk patios the restaurants have to offer. Neon signs and large street lamps litter the streets, providing well lit pathways and adding to the effervescent atmosphere, enough to draw out even the naturally reclusive.
Across the busy intersection were much more high end boutiques and fine dining establishments. The one his eyes settle on is a restaurant, a lot more sleek and modern compared to the mostly hybrid bars and restaurant lining his side of the street with not one, but two levels of patio seating; one on the sidewalk and another above that had a glass panel stairway leading to it, all bordered off with frosted glass and black metal railing. It’s lit prettily with large paper lanterns in oblong, curvy shapes, displaced in-between two to three tables. The patrons occupying said tables appeared to be dressed more sophisticated from what Jimin can see and it automatically makes him assume that the place was meant for those who want to enjoy some fine dining.
But the decor and luxurious appeal wasn’t what had caught his attention, as his eyes drift upwards and he spies a familiar face, just peeking over the railing in the signature all-black server uniform.
It’s Elaine…. Or Emelie…
Fuck, whatever her name was.
It was your co-worker, the one who he had enthralled a week ago before he left for his business trip. It was odd finding her there of all places, but then Jimin recalls having bumped into her earlier in the evening and connects the dots that this was probably where she was heading off to; a second job. Without thinking any more on it, he brushes it aside, continuing his stroll in an attempts to get some peace of mind.
-
The night was long, but even longer when you’re working as a server and your shift often run way into the early morning hours of the next day. One can argue that the tips make it worthwhile but sometimes even a hardy tip won’t make up for it all.
Especially when it’s coming from a literal human dirt bag.
It was just her luck to be stuck with a table full of frat boys, only they’re extra snobby and entitled because they’re mooching off of their parents’ money. Granted, it’s not the first time she’s dealt with these sorts of people (it practically came with the job description) and working in this line of customer service, everyone’s developed thick skin to help them through it.
Emily’s no different, having worked this job for as long as she had, only it begins to grind on her nerves when the guests are persistent with their advances.
“So when are you gonna tell me there’s a secret menu that includes you on it?”
Things like those were usually followed up with a greasy smile that sent her skin crawling. It was one of the many things that she wished she didn’t have to hear throughout the night but the sad part is it wasn’t the worst. And when she sees one of the managers step up to politely inform the table that they needed to pay their bill as the restaurant was beginning to close, she knew that this night can, and probably will, get ugly.
So by the time she clocks out, Emily is more than a little on edge. She leaves the building, headphones in and a stride like a woman on a mission — get the fuck home without having to bust out the pepper spray hidden in her bag.
She rounds the corner from the side exit of the restaurant, coming out onto the street. She makes it about a block before she spots him.
“Hey server girl.”
He breaks away from his group of friends, striding up to her from where he had his car parked beside the curb and blows out a stream of smoke from the vape pen he has in his hand. Emily cringes at the strong smell of artificial blueberry invading her nose. Instinctively she takes a step back to put distance between her and him, her shoulders taut with tension and stance already defensive. The asshole from before doesn’t take notice and continues talking anyways.
“Me and a few buds gonna hit up a club just nearby, why don’t you come along and maybe earn a few more extra tips.”
She hates the way he says that; the insinuation that she’s willing to put out for some few extra dollars, made even worse by the fact that she’s working a second job only because she needed to make ends meet. 

“Sorry but no thanks.” Emily grits out, eyes narrowed and without giving another time of day, she begins to walk around him, only to be back up once again from him side stepping to block her way.
“Hey, hey what’s your problem? I’m offering to show you a good time, there’s no need to be so difficult.”
She’s starting to feel like a cornered prey as every time he comes in too close for comfort, she takes a few more steps back. Subtly, Emily’s hand that is clutching her bag slowly begins to sneak into it, hands searching desperately to feel the familiar weight of the small cylinder can. She doesn’t have half the mind to care what other shitty things that spew from this guy’s mouth, more so focused on trying to find an opening and make a run for it.
“And I said no as an answer. No one is being difficult here.”
Her stomach churns unpleasantly as panic rises within her the longer her hand comes up short. She swears she always leaves the can inside her bag at all times so where is it?!
The man’s face in front of her slowly morphs into an annoyed scowl, clearly frustrated with her rejection because knowing him, he’s always gotten what he wanted.
“Listen I’m being nice here and I don’t just invite anyone to hang out with me.” He puffs up a little, prideful in the way he says all of this as if she’ll be impressed and change her mind. “If it’s money, I can pay you however much you want, probably way more than what you earned tonight anyways.”
Vision red, Emily finally lets her temper get the best of her even though provoking someone who can easily overpower her may not be the best course of action but she’s had had enough. “I don’t care about how much money you have, just leave me alone!”
Her rising voice catches the attention of all the wrong people as she sees his other three friends begin to make their way over one by one, no doubt coming to back him up. She’s breaking out into a cold sweat now, every muscle in her body tense but then finally, finally, her frantic fingers grasp at cool metal and as she goes to pull it out —
“Hey assholes, can you piss off out the way.”
For a situation that was about a hair away from becoming a crime scene, Emily didn’t imagine that it would all come to a screeching halt by the sound of a smooth dulcet voice, rising above the chaos. And neither did said group of assholes as all eyes turn to the new arrival. She takes the chance to as well, out of sheer curiosity of who this well-timed interruption could be and when she sees, she’s absolutely floored.
The man was gorgeous.
The sparse lighting coming from the scattered street lamps did nothing to deter from his beauty — flawless skin, sharp jaw, dark raven hair pushed back off his forehead with loose strands falling over and giving a clear view of hooded obsidian eyes, staring unimpressively at the group. He’s dressed so plainly compared to the guys harassing her; dark jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt, the ends tucked in to show off a belt buckle and accentuate his cinched waist. They might not admit it aloud but Emily could swear that everyone is entranced by this newcomer, something about his aura is so otherworldly and yet so commanding, like he’s got everyone wrapped around his fingers and all he had to do was blink.
Something that asshole #1 here picks up on, and immediately does not like.
He turns away from Emily momentarily, face stoney as he steps up to this handsome stranger who, despite the Chelsea boots he’s wearing, is much shorter than he was. She can almost see him gloat at the fact.
“Hey man, why don’t you mind your own fucking business yeah?”
Oh trust me, he would, Jimin thinks, rolling his eyes so hard they ache. He had walked about three blocks down before deciding to make his lap back up or else he would’ve ended up on the other side of town. In that time, he’s cooled off and mulled over ways on how he’s supposed to go about completing the task he’s been thrusted with, wondering if they need to involve you in any way or the scale of it like, what qualifies as an act? And how will he know he’s done one?
He thinks he would’ve gone on forever until he drove himself crazy had he not heard a piercing indignant shout coming from across the street he was on. His eyes wander over to the noise, a little perturbed at the disruption and finds what he can only describe as a pack of wolves cornering a lamb. Jimin had shook his head, completely indifferent because what’s new and was about to walk away when he catches sight of the girl. Almost immediately, he can feel the headache as he groans.
For fuck’s sake.
It just had to be her because what use is she if she’s dead. And so here he was, back at square one.
“I’m in a bad mood, and I don’t think you want to ruin that Gucci jacket of yours. So why don’t you go fuck off to some two-star club and stick your cock into a soda machine.”
The man’s nostrils flare, anger twisting at his features as he stalks up and grabs a fistful of Jimin’s shirt, yanking him by the front as he tilts his head down, snarling.
“You think you’re about to do something here, you fucking twink? Cuz I’ll make you suck your own cock if you don’t fuck off.”
He feels his friends coming round to form a semi-circle behind the man, trying to further intimidate Jimin and Emily helplessly watches on, scared because even though she’s grateful that he had drawn their attention away from her, she by no means wanted it to be at the expense of his own safety. The hand in her bag shifts from the pepper spray bottle to her mobile phone, ready to speed dial 911. But when her eyes draw up to Jimin’s face, he was the picture perfect of calm and collected, unfazed by the threat that had just been spat at him.
In fact, he seemed more bothered by the hand that’s clutching his shirt. She sees him raising his arm, places his own hand on top of the other man’s and then in an even tone, she hears him say, “Well now, I gotta fuck you up.”
There was a yell but it didn’t come from the ethereal man and then in the next second, Emily had to scamper back when three bodies go hurdling to the ground. Her gaze immediately whips up to Jimin and is shocked to find that he’s got the other man pinned down, one arm locked behind his back in a kneeling position with his face pressed uncomfortably in the pavement. She can’t keep her mouth from falling open, gawking at this bizarre scene in front of her.
“Why’d you have to go and ruin everyone’s fucking night with your dumb cunt mouth?” Jimin laments aloud, sounding exasperated as his head is already beginning to pound and putting him in a worser mood than before (if that was even possible). He ignores the writhing and muffled cursing coming from beneath him as he grips the other man’s wrist, holding him in place with little to no effort. He feels the delicate tendons beneath his fingers and the prominent bone just begging to be cracked.
It’d be so easy.
Unconsciously, his grip begins to tighten and the increasing pressure draws out a strangled yell from the man, his pleas coming out in a garbled mess but all that does is tempt Jimin even more. Maybe this is the pick-me-up he needed tonight; the satisfaction of breaking a few limbs, the thought of it already sends a sadistic shiver running through him. What better way to test his limits now than on this low-life. All he needed to do was to squeeze just enough here —
Then he feels eyes on him, making him glance up briefly and they meet her’s — wide and trembling with fright.
Oh shit.
He’d completely forgotten about her and the moment of clarity makes him hesitate, feeling like he’s the deer caught in the headlights. A beat passes with them just staring at each other before Jimin finally pulls away from the haze of madness that overcame him, loosening his hold on the man enough for him to break free, scurrying away like the cockroach he is. The rest of his friends begin to come to from having the wind knocked out of them, limping away with their tails between their legs as they all push each other out of the way to clamber into their expensive sports car.
They speed off, blowing through a red light as Jimin straightens, running a hand through his hair tiredly. He looks over at Emily who’s remained frozen in place throughout the entire thing, phone clasped in her hand and still very much on edge.
“Why don’t you do all of us a fucking favour and take a damn Uber.” Jimin gruffly says before he lumbers away without another word more.
After a minute, he faintly hears a shout of thanks behind him.
It gives him pause, bristling before he continues on. Once again, he’s left to his own thoughts and slightly irritated again that all he wanted to do now was find a place where he can hide and be unbothered for the rest of the night. Your place naturally comes into mind but he thinks it’s not appropriate to show himself, especially not when he still feels… less than put together.
As he considers his options, something begins to creep up inside of him — something that numbs him, starting from the bottom of his feet and traveling up until he struggles to keep pace, forcing him to stop as he doubles over. He’s suddenly short of breath, vision blurring but it peaks once it reaches his head, transforming into a searing pain.
Jimin lets out a sharp cry, hand shooting to his head as if to hold it from being split open, teeth gritting and eyes screwed shut as it wracks through him. There’s a ringing in his ear that nearly deafens him along with a burning sensation along his shoulders but as quickly as it had come, it vanishes, leaving him gasping in the middle of the street.
It takes a moment for Jimin to pull himself out of his daze, beads of sweat rolling down his neck before he inhales deeply and composes himself back on shaky legs.
Well, he thinks, taking a few more deep breaths and then slowly, starts on walking again. If that wasn’t a sign that he did something right, then he doesn’t know what is.
Guess that means two down, five fucking more to go.
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duskholland · 4 years ago
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I had an okay weekend, I’ve managed to catch a frustrating cold that’s leaving me with almost no voice. Happiful Magazine is a UK based magazine that talks about health and such. It’s a magazine where you can receive advice on how to help yourself, how to take care of yourself. I’m thinking of possibly writing for it, but I don’t know if I’d be good enough for it. Freelance writing is something that I have been looking into doing since this class as an after college thing. ~♉️
Real Love~ “He presses his warm lips to your forehead, and the feeling in your heart is like coming home.” This was a beautiful piece that shows love between two friends in the sweetest way even as their stuck in a fake relationship coming to an end. It’s adorable to see the budding relationship bloom into something more real than either of them had expected. I love that this bloomed when their contracted fake relationship started coming to an end.~♉️
Come Cuddle~ “You know exactly what he means: you’ve always believed home is a feeling, not a place, but it wasn’t until you actually met Tom that you could truly experience what it’s like to place your sense of self into another person.” Killed my heart with the adorableness of this piece! I’ve fallen in love with this one and now it takes control as my favorite oneshot for Tom already. I’m sure something will top it, but I just absolutely adore this piece! ❤️~♉️
Quiet Nights~ “It’s normal, Tom. You don’t have to be happy all the time. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re a person, and sometimes people feel low, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” God I wish someone could remind me of this. I absolutely love this fic and I can completely relate to Tom, especially recently. Y/N is the perfect pick-me-up person, shining a light in the darkness swallowing us whole... sorry a bit morbid there, but new favorite!! ❤️~♉️
Underneath the Mask~ Prince Tom, ooh I’m in for it!! Gosh the forbidden love between best friends that aren’t supposed to be best friends ❤️! “He’s in love with you, possibly the only person he’s not allowed to date. The only person that knows of his secret romance is Harrison, and even he, for all his good-naturedness, had been horrified at first when he’d heard Tom was courting a Y/L/N. I’m so in love with this, and maybe it’ll be my favorite when I’m in a good headspace. I love it! ❤️~♉️
Lust~ I’m in for it... Should I be reading this during class? Probably not. Am I going to though? Absolutely. “Tom meets your eyes, and in his deep, swirling depths, you find understanding.” Oh you’re trying to get me in trouble with this piece 🥵. You and your details, setting it up perfectly, driving the piece deeply, simply, yet detailed excursions are your forte. I have nothing left to say other than that I should not have read this during class. (Written yesterday at 1:30 p.m.) ❤️~♉️
The Box~ This is my new favorite, just so you know, and I don’t think anything will top it. “Your heart races as you nod, realising that though it might not happen now, at some point - some point very soon - Tom’s going to fall to his knees in front of you and sweep you off your feet. A large grin paints over your lips.” New freakin’ favorite right here!!!! ❤️❤️~♉️
The Rooftop Party~ Awe!! “You aren’t together, and you know the arms around your waist are his idea of being close to a friend.” 💔 that broke my little heart... “You grin happily, body floating in a suspended state of bliss.” Yup, you fixed it ❤️, and I’m kind of in love with this one.. It’s so close, meters away from taking over the favorite spot in OneShots right now. It’s soooo sooo close! But, it’s still such an adorable fluffy piece, and I absolutely adore it! ❤️~♉️
A Rose~ okay, hold it... gone wrong.? I don’t want the angst!! “He wants to say no. He really wants to say no.” God I really wasn’t prepared 😩😭. I’m crying right now, wha.. wha.. what did you just do to my heart right now?! What?! Why?! I can’t.. oh my god, you broke me. 😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 You can’t kill me like that!!!!!!!! 💔~♉️
Accidental Proposal~ “You love him. You love him in a way you’ve never loved anyone before. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing, and absolutely fulfilling. And you know you never want that love to fizzle out, or fade away, or be taken away.” That just made me go awe really, really loudly. This is such an adorable piece. This is like.. just.. oh my gosh it’s so pure. I love, love, love it! ❤️❤️❤️~♉️
Lingerie~ okay, I’ve read this one and it is just too damn good 🥵. “It’s a game. A dangerous, heated game, and with every passing day, his eyes seem hungrier as they meet with yours, and he seems to inch closer to you.” The go from oh this 🥵 will happen again to another time with a date because they both truly want more than a fling. And I love it! 🥵❤️~♉️
One Million~ “Never one to accept defeat so easily, Tom reaches up and wraps his hand around your wrist, his touch keeping your phone in place as he brings his index finger up and begins to scroll through your feed, greedy eyes skimming over the numbers. You stay still, trying not to think about how nice it feels to have him gripping at your skin so tightly.” Damn.. 🥵🥵🥵 that was fucking good. Oof 🥵❤️~♉️
Head Over Heels~ okay, just from the summary I know I’m in for fluff! “After a while, the conversation fades out, and then it’s just him, and you, sat on top of his washing machines, holding hands.” And you’ve done killed me with fluff again. This is now my favorite, I’m sorry “The Box”, but you’ve been beaten by an even more fluffy piece. It’s so detailed, adorable, fluffy, and gooooood! The consuming need to want to be with y/n gets me because I want that! I’m in love with this piece! ❤️~♉️
Warm~ I’ve read this one too ❤️🥵 Jesus fuck I forgot how hot this piece was 🥵🥵🤦‍♀️. “For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere.” Jesus. I know the last oneshot that I have to read before the mobTom! pieces will be just as hot, but damn. 🥵❤️~♉️
Sucker Punch~ I purposely waited to read this for this moment. “You’re surprised by his reaction to you. You’d expected something else entirely. Clenched jaws and anger. The last time you’d been together, things between you had been the opposite of amicable.” gosh and you gave us a flashback. Jesus fuck that was hot.. like I can’t even.. 🥵🥵.. So... This is my favorite piece, like fucking FAVORITE piece! No topping that, it’s not possible for anything to top this piece ever. In love. ❤️❤️~♉️
Holy crap, I’ve now gotten through all of the OneShots for Tom aside from the Mob ones. I’m kind of like.. idk and I haven’t read the newest part of TFG because I don’t want to die, but like I’m about to read that because I want to wait for the mobTom ones.~♉️
I have a question because I feel like you know, but I’m not sure. Do you who know what my username is? Cause like I’ve given sooo many hints and now I’m just curious as to whether you already know or not 😂 😂 ~♉️
Okay, I’m going to be starting your MobTom pieces once I finish my homework and newspaper work. So, like, I’m excited and wondering if I’ll have a new favorite because like, I went through a couple of favourites in the OneShots. We’ll see what happens! Also, still haven’t read part nine because I’m just so on edge! I’m going to read it tonight though, but like Oof just dreading it, not sure how I’m going to handle how you kill me with this new chapter. ❤️~♉️
------
OKAY SO WE HAVE A LOT TO UNPACK HERE. first off I just want to say I’m sorry it took me a while to answer these - I never really know when to start answering and when to wait, but I feel like this is a good time to pause? because you sent in so much and I don’t want you to feel like I don’t appreciate every single message - because I DO !! okay !! so !!
first - I hope you’re feeling better !!! colds are horrid. and I also hope that you do the freelance writing gig! anything to get your foot in the door is good, and writing is always so fun. go you !! let me know how it goes if you do it!
second - :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
scream. THANK YOU for taking the time to send these in. thank you thank you. all the isolated quotes are like a BLAST from the past, because I wrote a lot of those two years ago. I’ve reread them all apart from A Rose, and just...wow. crazy. I hope you could like...see my writing improve as you went through them 😂 thank you so much, again. like, truly. I can’t say it enough. but just knowing the time it must take you to do all of this for me....... I am eternally eternally grateful. thank you <33333 
third - I’m like, 95% sure I know who you are, but I don’t think I’d ever be 100% 😂 I also wouldn’t ever want to message you without your permission, because sometimes people find it easier talking over anon, and I’d never want to abuse that dynamic that we’ve built up..? does that make sense? idk !! sometimes people feel safer on anon, so even if I was 100% sure, I wouldn’t ever message you without getting the green light first <3
fourth - thank you AGAIN, so so so so much for this. I was so happy to read your thoughts and even happier that your favourite piece was the one I wrote most recently - means I’m doing something right :) good luck with the mob ones!! they’re very different to everything else that I’ve written, obviously, but I had fun with them. when I started the mob series, I’d intended for it to be more of a ....well, series.....but we’re not quite there yet 😂 you’ll see lol. good luck and thank you!!
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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago
Text
Alas, Poor Yorick! This Is Gonna Suck! (Rated T)
Summary: It's been two years since the Apoca-didn't and Aziraphale and Crowley still aren't a couple - much to Crowley's dismay. Aziraphale has his reasons, but Crowley doesn't feel those apply to them. But if Aziraphale won't listen to him on the subject, maybe he'll listen to their good friend Shakespeare.
-or-
Crowley professes his love for Aziraphale through virtue of a single, passionate kiss and traumatizes a room full of pre-teens in the process. (2932 words)
Notes: Written for the tumblr inbox ask prompt - 'Crowley and Aziraphale perform/inspire Shakespeare'
(AO3)
“Are we really going to do this?” Crowley groans, re-reading the flier Aziraphale had printed for his recent venture, one that he’s managed to strong-arm Crowley into participating in against his will and better judgement.
“Of course we are!” Aziraphale lightly punches Crowley on the shoulder in a gesture that makes the demon lean away suspiciously. “Buck up! It’s going to be fun!”
“Your definition of fun and my definition of fun seem to vary greatly, angel.”
“Look …” Aziraphale rounds up old rags and a bottle of wood polish and begins tidying up a space he has affectionately begun to refer to as his Globe Theater West “… we made a pledge ...”
“You. You made a pledge.”
“... to help support youth theater in Soho. And putting on a performance of Shakespeare is the easiest way to start.”
“You could have donated the play books. That would have been easier.”
Aziraphale peeks up from the bookshelf he���s polishing and glares at the demon reclining a short distance away. “Bite. your. tongue. Besides, whether you realize it or not, we’ve been presented with a golden opportunity.”
“And what’s that?”
“It seems an inordinate amount of young men signed up for my workshop as opposed to young women, so this gives us the perfect excuse to perform Shakespeare’s works the way they were done from the beginning.”
“In a large, open-air theater that smells like horse shit, where a handful of audience members die before the end of the second act?”
“No, where men play most of the roles, including the ladies’ parts.”
“That’s going to go over well.” Crowley chuckles. “Did you set aside enough money to pay for therapy and legal fees? ‘cause you might just need it.”
“Nonsense. And to kick things off, you and I are going to show them how easy it will be.”
Crowley arches a brow. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“And what, pray tell, have you chosen for us to perform?”
“Romeo and Juliet,” Aziraphale answers with a wistful sigh.
Crowley lowers his glasses, fixing Aziraphale with a cold, yellow stare. “It better be the scene where they both die.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! We’re going to do an uplifting scene. One that everyone knows and loves. One of the most popular scenes in the play.”
“Them dying is pretty damned popular. Especially among thirteen-year-olds.”
“Yes, but anyone can die.”
Crowley sighs. Without being told, he knows exactly what scene Aziraphale is referring to, and try as he might, there’s no way he’s going to win this argument. If he leaves now, that doesn’t mean he’s getting out of this. Aziraphale can miracle anywhere Crowley ends up with a snap of his fingers.
Or he could bless the front doors so he can’t leave.
He’s not opposed to performing Romeo and Juliet. He’s performed plenty of Shakespeare in his time. But with regard to this scene in particular, there does happen to be one tiny catch.
He stands from his seat and walks over to the bookcase Aziraphale has scrubbed nearly spotless. “I’ve never kissed you before, angel.”
“Neither have I,” Aziraphale replies without looking up. “Kissed you, I mean. But we’ll be actors plying a craft. I’m sure we can do it for the sake of the performance.”
“Is that really how you want your first kiss?”
“I …” Aziraphale stops what he’s doing, kneels up and rests his hands on his thighs “… how do you know it would be my first?”
Crowley shrugs. “Lucky guess.”
“It’s just a kiss.” Aziraphale goes back to his polishing. “Part of the scene. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Oh, it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Crowley snaps sarcastically. “All right then. It won’t mean anything.”
“You don’t have to take a tone with me.”
“Tone? Tone? What tone? There’s no tone. I don’t have a tone.”
But there was a tone, and Crowley couldn’t help having it.
He’d thought that after the Apoca-didn’t, things would change between them. That they’d be together. But every time he brought it up, Aziraphale changed the subject. Eventually the subject simply drifted away. But it’s not that Aziraphale ignored it. He admitted that he was afraid of things changing between them if they took any further steps, but he didn’t exactly specify which changes in particular frightened him. So in order not to lose Crowley altogether, he chose ‘standing still’ to ‘moving forward’.
Crowley understood that sort of, but it still bruised his ego.
More than that - it hurt his feelings.
What Aziraphale said made sense … for humans. But they weren’t humans. And they weren’t invincible. Even though they’d managed to get Heaven and Hell off their backs, that didn’t mean there weren’t targets painted on them.
Immortal they may be, but eternity isn’t assured for anyone.
Crowley could ask poor Ligur about that one.
Or, more to the point, he can’t.
It’s been nearly two years and Crowley still looks over his shoulder from time to time.
In Crowley’s opinion, if there’s something they want to say or do, they should consider doing it now.
“I’m just sayin’, if that’s how you feel about it ...”
“Yes,” Aziraphale says softly, speaking to his own reflection in the gleaming wood. “That’s how I feel about it.”
“End of discussion, I take it?”
“End of discussion.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic, that is.”
“Dearest …” Aziraphale peeks over the side of the bookcase at the persnickety demon pacing between the stacks “… can we please try and make this a pleasant afternoon for the children? No need to get them caught up in our personal melodrama when there’s so much of Shakespeare’s to be explored.”
“Absolutely. No problem at all. Completely pleasant, me. I swear. There’s no alcohol in that scene, if I remember correctly,” Crowley jokes, attempting, in some small measure, to diffuse the tension he helped create.
Aziraphale rewards his efforts with an understanding smile. “None at all.”
“Well ...” Crowley drops down on the sofa and starts pouring himself a drink anyway – the first of many. “This is going to be a long afternoon.”
***
“All right, ladies and gentlemen!” Aziraphale addresses the nine boys and three girls on the roster with a giddy clap. “Welcome, welcome, welcome to our first ever youth theater workshop! I’m so so glad you all could make it! Thank you for your interest!”
“We’re here cuz Adam signed us up,” Wensleydale rats out his friend.
“Not me,” Warlock says. “I don’t bend to the will of my peers.”
“Then why are you here?” Brian asks, not at all impressed with Adam’s recent addition to their group - the dark-haired, occasionally foul-mouthed miscreant with moony eyes for Adam.
Warlock’s gaze falls to his boot as he worries a spot on the floor with his toe. “Nanny made me come.”
Adam elbows Warlock in the side.
Warlock smirks.
Brian rolls his eyes.
“Okay then. I’ve printed up the scene we’ll be performing so you can follow along.” Aziraphale passes around handouts while Crowley lurks in the corner, as helpful as a bronze statue. “Brian and Adam, you both said you were interested in playing Romeo …”
“Yup,” Adam replies.
“I … I was.” Brian glances nervously around at the other boys in the room and the three girls, one of them his best friend Pepper. “Now I’m not so sure …”
“Great!” Aziraphale rallies on, ignoring Brian’s anxiety. “We’ll sort out Juliet later.” He winks at the young ladies. “No need to assume.”
“Why can’t we start with one of the fighting scenes?” Pepper asks.
“Yeah, why can’t we start with one of the fighting scenes?” Crowley groans.
“Because fighting is easy. There’s a lot of fighting in Romeo and Julie, don’t you worry. But the meat of this play is the love story. Two households, both alike in dignity, and yet …”
“… they couldn’t get their act together for the sake of their kids,” Pepper finishes.
“Exactly,” Aziraphale says proudly. “But the love Romeo and Juliet shared, their connection to one another …”
“… was probably hormonal,” Crowley finishes.
“Crowley!”
“It was! They knew one another for what? All of four days? And in that time, six people died! Their adolescent urges weren’t just insatiable! They had a body count!”
“That definitely sucks all the romance out of it, doesn’t it?” one of the non-Pepper girls says.
“Just giving you the facts, miss,” Crowley says. “To be honest, those statistics are pretty light considering an average weekend in Verona during the Renaissance ...”
“I think that’s a discussion best left for another time,” Aziraphale says, reigning the class back in. He grabs a chair, sets it in the center of the space in front of the twelve children, and sits down in it. “Why don’t we get a move on so we can start assigning the rest of the roles? Hmm?”
“Yay,” Crowley cheers dismally, dragging over a second chair, scraping two of its feet loudly along the surface of the wood floor. He flips it around and straddles it facing Aziraphale because sitting in a chair the way it’s meant would be too easy.
Aziraphale leans towards the sullen demon. “Now please, try and do your best,” he says in a low voice. “We don’t have to be the greatest Shakespearean actors that ever lived, but we should give it a decent go.”
“Sure. Anything you say,” Crowley agrees, unenthused as he may be.
“You start. Whenever you’re ready.”
Crowley looks at his script, a single cursory glance to make sure he remembers the scene correctly. He may prefer Shakespeare’s comedies, but he’s seen Romeo and Juliet a number of times, if only for the extreme absurdity of it.
Though, admittedly, several of those times have been because of Aziraphale.
Aziraphale positively adores Romeo and Juliet. Absurd or not, it’s one of Aziraphale’s all-time favorites, and in a rare moment of sentimentality, Crowley decides to do his best not to ruin that.
It’s not until he’s prepared to start that Crowley sees an opportunity.
Aziraphale hasn’t been listening to him, not where it pertains to the two of them. Of course, Crowley has never exactly been good with words. He’s more of a show, don’t tell sort of demon. And he has to give himself credit for the fact that he’s been showing Aziraphale for thousands of years how he feels about him.
But maybe this time around, good old Willy could lend him a hand.
Crowley had originally planned on being detached for this scene – good enough for youth theater, but not necessarily award worthy. Instead, he puts down his script, takes Aziraphale’s hand, and gets ready to knock the angel out of his socks.
Besides, if that kiss at the end isn’t going to mean anything, there’s no reason for him not to put his all into it.
Aziraphale sees Crowley take his hand and his eyes go wide. He hadn’t expected this. He’d been prepared for the bare minimum, if not less. Maybe it’s written in the script, he thinks, looking at the page he printed, searching for any hint of stage direction (of which there is none). This scene is often performed with the actors holding hands. Crowley would know that, but Aziraphale didn’t think he would do it. He looks from their hands up to Crowley’s eyes, and that seems to be Crowley’s cue to speak.
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand,” he begins with an air of soft intimacy, but enunciating so the kids gathered can hear, “This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”
Aziraphale sits up straighter and clears his throat, mildly uncomfortable by the amount of emotion Crowley was able to invest into those few lines. He, too, sets his script aside, pale blue eyes staring deeply into Crowley’s and not looking away, almost as if the demon had presented him a challenge.
“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
Aziraphale doesn’t play it campy. He opted for a pared down, actors’ studio inspired version of this scene – no floofy costumes, no backdrops, no props, no music. Just two performers and Shakespeare’s words to set the scene. And he didn’t change his voice, try to make it high-pitched so the kids would know he was playing a girl. The gender of the characters doesn’t matter. The words, the emotions, the conflicts – those are the things that matter in this scene. Aziraphale chose to perform the role of Juliet as another aspect of himself, in love with someone he isn’t supposed to love. Someone he’s terrified of losing.
Whom he fell in love with all the same.
But unlike Juliet, he’d rather that love go cold than see the object of his affections perish because of it.
He does have to admit that after 6000 years, it’s wearing on him.
Does he really want to stand still when moving forward could be so exciting?
He’s spent his entire existence inspiring love in others. If he lets an opportunity for love pass him by, would another 6000 years be worth it?
“Have not saints lips,” Crowley says, “and holy palmers too?”
“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”
“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.” Crowley inches closer, moving his chair with demonic power to keep it silent – preserve the mood. He’s nose to nose with Aziraphale when he says, “They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”
“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”
“Then move not,” Crowley says in a velvety whisper against Aziraphale’s lips that the angel has never heard before, “while my prayer’s effect I take.” He raises a hand, runs the back of it down Aziraphale’s cheek, ending with a finger beneath his chin. He glances at Aziraphale’s mouth, his breath hitching when Aziraphale holds his.
And here it is – the kiss that will mean nothing.
Not for Crowley. For him, this kiss means everything.
Can a single kiss translate all the love he has for his angel? How continuing on the way they are has been slowly shattering him to pieces?
He prays it can. He’s never been able to put it into words.
He leans closer, the chair he’s on tipping to reach, but before their lips touch, Aziraphale leans away.
Crowley jerks back, staring at Aziraphale in agony, his stony eyes drenched in heartache. But Aziraphale smiles. He reaches up with his free hand and passes it over Crowley’s eyes. Then he carefully removes the demon’s glasses. In a second of mild panic, Crowley turns away, searching out of sight of the audience for a reflective surface to look into.
What was Aziraphale doing?
What had he done!?
Crowley finds one over Aziraphale’s shoulder – the sliver of a mirror peeking out from behind one of the bookshelves. At first blush, he sees himself with hazel human eyes. But they shimmer with magic – Aziraphale’s magic. If he concentrates, Crowley can see his yellow eyes underneath. But for the benefit of those who don’t know he’s a demon, Aziraphale has come up with this.
Because he does want to kiss Crowley, more than anything. More than he ever let on.
And he doesn’t want anything getting in the way.
Aziraphale leans in – innocent Juliet luring Romeo back - but Crowley catches him, capturing his mouth with his own and breathing him in as if Aziraphale is his first breath of air in forever. Their hands, only politely grasping before this point, hold one another, fingers weaving together, so infinitely matched nothing could break them apart.
Crowley doesn’t move farther than an inch away when that kiss ends and he recites his next line. But he has to, because it’s too fitting not to say. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.”
Aziraphale doesn’t open his eyes when they part, too star struck to remember where they are, what they’re doing … or the fact that twelve pairs of eyes are watching them at this moment.
In retrospect, perhaps Crowley was right. Maybe he should have had Crowley kiss him once before this … for practice. So he wouldn’t be caught out of left field.
But he’s waited this long for perfection.
And that kiss definitely left perfection in the dust.
“Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” he manages in a trembling voice.
“Sin from thy lips?” Crowley murmurs, eyes sweeping over Aziraphale’s face, drinking him in. “O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”
“Yes, please,” Aziraphale whispers.
Crowley grins. “That’s not the next line, angel.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fu---“
Crowley swallows his angel’s profanity with another kiss, sliding a hand up the back of Aziraphale’s neck and into his hair, grabbing gently and pulling him closer. Aziraphale’s hand finds Crowley’s neck and does the same. And with that one kiss, Crowley and Aziraphale have jumped straight from Act I to Act III.
Twelve jaws drop.
Brian looks at Pepper, but Pepper shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it,” she says. “I’m playing Mercutio.”
He turns and looks at Wensleydale, but Wensleydale backs away. “Look, you’re one of my best friends in the universe, but I’m not doing that.”
Adam looks over at Warlock, eyebrows raised. Warlock shrugs. “Yeah, all right,” he says. “Go grab a chair.”
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drev-the-procrastinator · 4 years ago
Note
1, 8, 12 and 52 for the writing thingy!!!
Look at me finally answering these after like a whole month lol
Thanks for the ask!
1. Tell us about your WIP!
Which one lol, I’ve got many of them. Too many. Really. That, coupled with the fact that I am a slow writer because I keep getting distracted and procrastinating (like with answering these asks,,,,) means that pretty much everyone on this site will die of old age before I finish like any of them :’D
Anyway, I guess I’ll give brief summaries of all of the… main ones. This is gonna be a long one, fellas! I guess in the order I came up with them? Or the order I’m pretty sure I came up with them in.
TT: My original story I’ve been low-key working on and reworking since… 2012…? It’s a fantasy story, and it is… way too long probably. Also needs a lot of work. Worldbuilding and character building and plot building… At the moment, I guess I could summarise it as, our world gets wrecked for some reason, and the main characters, these two girls, who got saved into another, fantasy world with like… a bunch of other survivors, leave the Earth-refugee camp and get tangled with like, politics? Of that world? Well, politics and then eventually like, a war type thing… I didn’t say it was good, and I did also say it needs a whole lotta work. I’m pretty happy with some names younger me came up with though! Also it has dragons, so. Yup.
Fantasy fanfic: I am very good with names, as you’ll come to notice. Anyway this is a.. Hetalia fantasy fic..? I came up with in, like, 2014. I’m not actively working on this one at the moment, but I would like to maybe write it one day, and my most beloved OC originated in this story, you may have seen me mention her in my tags? I haven’t managed to come up with a name for her, but I call her the Asshole Goddess, because she’s a goddess, and also an ass. So.
Anyway this one’s pretty cliche, and it’s like, an absurdly large cast of Hetalia characters ending up in a fantasy world, where a bunch of other characters, who’d gone missing earlier, have apparently been taken to? Then it’s a journey to find and get them back, friendships are formed and magical things are encountered, but uh oh! They’re mortal here and can die! And many do. You may note I was 14 when I came up with it, so. Well. It is quite edgy. Had some good concepts though!
Kingdom AU: Great with names, as I said. This one is also a Hetalia fic, because that is the fandom I’ve been stuck in forever, though mostly just because I’ve so many fics for it. This is the odd one out in my fics though! This is like, a royalty AU of an rp AU me and my friend made by accident one time? The RP, not this AU, this is all my invention. It’s really just for me and my friend, since it’s based on that strange RP and the main thing in it is like and OC x canon character ship? That’s also why it’s the weird one, I don’t usually have much romance in my fics because I’m not big on ships and just prefer gen stuff, but this one is like primarily romance? Lots of pining. And it’s very soft. And I love this AU with all my heart. It’s also got a whole lotta angst!
Basic plot is the more or less classic, kinda cliche, peasant girl goes to get a job in the royal palace to help her poor family and meets the crown prince, and they become friends, and slowly fall in love.. Except, well, this is weird also in that the end point isn’t them getting married or confessing their love or anything, that’s like...Maybe the midpoint? There’s also politics, kinda worldbuilding? It’s set in like a 1700s type setting, I think, And while it’s not really a fantasy world since no magic, it’s not like, a real world setting. Anyway, yeah, this is near and dear to my heart.
The Home Front Fic: This! This is the one I’ve been trying to work on lately! It’s about life on the Finnish home front during WWII, and yes this is uh, also a Hetalia fic. Sorry. Though to be fair with this one and the previous one everyone’s probably gonna be so OOC and the setting is so different they might as well just be original works lol. Anyway, it’s a human AU, and also had a lot of OCs for that reason because it’d be tough to make a story of this scope with like. Three characters.
Basically! Tino is a 8, soon to be 9-year-old boy living in the Finnish countryside in 1942. His dad’s gone off to war, as well as the farmhand they had at the farm, and his mom and grandma can’t take care of the whole farm by themselves. So when they hear a nearby factory and some other farms in the area are getting extra work force in the form of Soviet prisoners of war, they decide to ask for one, too. They get a worker, his name’s Ivan. It takes some time, since they’re technically enemies, right, but eventually Tino befriends him and slowly he kind of becomes a part of the family… But you know what happened when the Continuation War between Finland and the Soviet Union ended in September 1944? :) Well, I’ll just say that Stalin did say “There are no Soviet prisoners of war, only traitors.”
This one also has angst. But it also has found family! I like it a whole lot, I wish I’d written it already, but I have been having such a hard time starting it. :(
That BNHA Fic: I can call it that because I’ve only got one so far! So this is a My Hero Academia fic, and hmm. I haven’t talked about it too much, but I do like it, even though my focus has been pulled back to the Home Front Fic again. I do wanna write this one!
So this is like a future fic? It’s canon divergent because some stuff happening in the manga rn is not gonna work with the plot, I guess it’ll diverge at least from like… all the New Year’s chapters? I don’t remember what the number is.
Anyway, the main character is Eri, who’s been going to like this boarding school meant for kids with volatile quirks. She wanted to go there herself when some years ago her quirk had gone bonkers, she thinks? Something like that, she doesn’t remember that well anymore, but anyway, she’s going to apply to UA! Just the Gen-Ed, her quirk isn’t any good against robots. She’d love to be a hero, though, she knows so many heroes and she just wants to help people, but her quirk is no good. :( Anyway she’s back in Musutafu for the summer break in her last year of middle school, and she meets Mirio and Aizawa at the train station, and they go around the town meeting everyone! In the entrance exams she meets Kouta, who for some reason doesn’t want to be a hero though he’s got a really good quirk for it, and he’s proud of his parents who were famous heroes! They both get into UA, and she manages to convince him to try to get into the hero course through the Sports Festival, and he does! She doesn’t get that far in the festival though, because even though she’s practiced using her quirk, she’s scared to use it on people when in battle and stuff. Anyway, she’s very upset about it, and when she tells Mirio about how she wants to help people, but can’t, because her quirk sucks, he gets this look on his face and later tells her that he knows someone who could help. They go to meet this scarecrow lookin’ dude, and oh wait, is that All Might?? Why’s he refusing to help her out from Mirio’s request?? And later, what’s this One For All Mirio’s talking about?? And whose kind arms does she keep dreaming of in her sleep??? 
So yeah. That’s the BNHA fic. One more WIP to go!
Space Fic: Back to Hetalia, and this is technically an older fic but I decided to someday actually write it just recently. So it’s my Historical Human AU No. 3. It’s based on a space facts video fact, where it said that in 1963 Kennedy had proposed the USSR and US go to the Moon together, and Khrushchev had been meaning to agree, but then Kennedy died and the plan was abandoned. This story idea was like, but what if they’d gone through with it? And then, because why not, what if they’d included other countries as well? And this WIP was born. It’d be like, the main characters would be representatives of their home countries, sent to take part in the program and they’d all be candidates for going to the Moon, but there’d be only 3 spots on the rocket so like, they’d kind of have to compete for the spots? And the ones that wouldn’t pass would take part in the mission on Earth. So then there'd compete, there’d be personal drama, their personal relationships would be affected by the relationships between their home countries, but overtime friendships would be forged, and they’d all just become… one big ole found family. A space family. A big ole found space family. And the Overview Effect would also play a part. This is kind of on the back burner, this’ll need lots of research and the Home front fic also needs a lot of it, so I’ll try to.. write that first, I guess? We’ll see.
So that’s all my WIPs. There are other fic ideas that I haven’t put much thought into yet so they’re not on the list, but yeah!
8. Do you have any writing buddies or critique partners?
I don’t have any one person who I’ve talked to about all of my stories, but I have discussed my stories with a few people! Both online and irl. I’m also on a couple discord servers that are for writing or where people talk about writing, even though for the most part I’m too shy to talk much on any of them ;u; But the people who’ve been awesome enough to listen to me ramble about my stories have helped me a lot!
12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why?
Aaaa, don’t make me choose between my children! ;__; I love them all,,,
Well, I am very fond of TT, since it’s my own original story and I’ve worked on it the longest… Then again, the Kingdom AU has a lovely aesthetic and those two pining idiots in it… But also, that BNHA fic has some really nice plot and character moments? But also I’ve spent so long researching for the Home front fic and it’s got my boys in it! And the atmosphere in it is so nice, and it has found family,,, But then also… Space??? And even the fantasy fanfic has the Asshole Goddess in it?? And a nice storyline with Liech?? See I can’t choose ;_;
To be fair, the story my dumb brain takes interest in changes every now and then, for example lately I’ve been mostly thinking about TT, the Kingdom AU and the Home front fic, so I guess those would be my favorites at the moment? But a couple weeks ago I was really into the Space Fic, and at the start of the year it was the BNHA fic. So it depends! But I do love them all.
52. Who do you write for?
Well, primarily probably for myself. I do often find myself in a situation where I’m looking for fics or books to read but none of them really click, and then I realize I’m looking for my own story. Which I haven’t written. So that’s definitely a big one! Then, to some extent, I also write for the people I’ve rambled about my fics to, so they might maybe someday get to experience the whole thing through something other than just my ramblings :’D But mostly for myself, I think.
Thanks for the ask again and sorry for taking so long!
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readsky · 4 years ago
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June 2020 Reads - Minireviews
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5 books this month, including a BIG one. June was a bit slower; I am still not back in work and the weather was pretty terrible, so I didn’t get out much. Lockdown rules have been relaxed a bit, so we’ve had a few friends round that we haven’t seen since Feb. Was nice to just have a few drinks and play some card games (Exciting!). Now, to the mini-reviews!
The Eye of the World (Robert Jordan) I wasn’t planning on reading this, but one of my friends has been telling me to read it for years now. I’ve heard all the “it’s just LOTR fan fic/rip-off”, so I put it off since there’s always so much more original content on my reading list. Then I randomly found it in a charity shop for £2. I took it as a sign that I should read it, and I’m really glad I did! A group of young lads discover that they are being targeted by some very scary and dangerous folk, and set off on a quest with a warrior and a powerful female warrior-mage to find out why the forces of darkness are rising and why they are so interested in them. Are there a ton of LOTR parallels? Yes. Does it feel like Robert Jordan just wanted to be a modern-day Tolkien? Yup. But did I care? No. I recently started reading The Lord of the Rings (I reviewed The Fellowship of the Ring a few months ago), and god damn is that shit a slog. It took me MONTHS to read The Fellowship. I think the only way I could sum up The Fellowship is “dense, whilst simultaneously lacking in detail”. I finished TEOTW in exactly 2 weeks, and while it is dense, the story flowed well, most of the characters are interesting, there’s some badass ladies and there’s enough genuinely well-developed mystery surrounding the characters that I’m very keen to keep reading (although 14 x 800 page books is a lot of reading time to devote to one series, but we’ll see how it goes!). So, was TEOTW special or unique? Nope, but I found it an easy and entertaining read despite its size, and it was different enough from LOTR to keep me interested. Very good. 4/5
Broken Stars: Contemporary Chinese Science Fiction in Translation (Translated by Ken Liu) I’ve already used a bit of my blog to wax lyrical about how great Ken Liu is. And I’m going to do it again! He’s great! What a guy! In this follow up to Invisible Planets, Ken has picked 16 more short sci-fi stories (and some with fantasy elements) written by some wonderful Chinese authors and again translated them for English speakers. This is just as strong a collection of stories as the ones picked for Invisible Planets and just as varied in their ideas and themes. Particular highlights include Baoshu’s What Has Passed Shall in Kinder Light Appear which is a kind of historical fiction where time for the characters progresses linearly, but major world events such as the Second World War and the Chinese Cultural Revolution are happening in reverse. This instalment also includes some more fun stories, such as Fei Dao’s The Robot Who Liked To Tell Tall Tales which is a really cute story about a King known as the biggest bullshitter in the kingdom, but doesn’t want to die with that reputation, so sends a robot out into the world with the mission to become a bigger bullshitter than the King. And finally, Ma Boyong’s The First Emperor’s Games is a short and fun read that will delight anyone with an interest in video games. I enjoyed every minute of this book and hope Ken will continue to bring Chinese sci-fi to western readers. 5/5
Daughter of Smoke and Bone (Laini Taylor) This was another charity shop find (50p!). Looked like fantasy (judging book by its cover, I know!) and then saw that Patrick Rothfuss had given it a glowing review. Turns out it was well deserved. Karou is an art student studying in Prague and seems relatively normal to her friends. However, she moonlights as an assistant to demonic beings who brought her up after she was orphaned, collecting teeth for a purpose she does not yet know. After a chance encounter with an angel, she finally finds out the truth. This is a beautifully written book. The writing is so visual, and it was extremely easy to picture the characters and their surroundings. The way the author describes Prague made me want to jump on the next plane and go. If I were any good at drawing, I would probably have had a go at creating some fan art. My only gripe would be that I’m not a fan of over-the-top, unobtainable, supernatural type romance, and the last half of this book is exactly that. However, once you start to realise what an important element this is to story, you do start to forgive it. Fast-paced and beautifully written. 4/5
The Book Thief (Markus Zusak) I don’t read a lot of historical fiction, so this was different for me. Since I mainly read fantasy, there’s always a certain “epic-ness” to everything I read. The Book Thief is not epic, but that doesn’t detract from this beautiful story based on some of the most tragic events of the last 100 years. The story follows Liesel, a young girl who is forced to live with foster parents after her own are taken to a Nazi concentration camp during WW2 for being identified as communists. This is a story of her growing up in a poor town just outside Munich and the stories of the people she meets along the way (and her growing obsession with stealing books). But to give it a bit of quirkiness, the story is narrated by Death himself. This was probably my favourite aspect of this story, as it gave an “alternative” view of Death. Death is extremely thoughtful and talks in a manner of helping people “cross-over”. I imagine that the author didn’t have the stereotypical black cloak and scythe combo that we usually picture Death to look like. The vast array of characters makes this book an endearing one and it is one I will not soon forget. 4/5
Senlin Ascends (Josiah Bancroft) I would have to put this into my most unexpected reads category. I’m finding it hard to compare to anything. Thomas Senlin is a school headmaster and all-round fuddy-duddy. He keeps to himself and never gets into any trouble. When he eventually marries Marya, a beautiful, fun, and upstanding young woman, eyebrows are raised. They decide to spend their honeymoon visiting The Tower of Babel, a marvel of modern-day engineering with unique societies on every floor. A tower so tall, no one can see the top and no one can actually confirm how high it is. Senlin has learned everything he knows about The Tower of Babel from a visitor’s guide that describes it as a utopia; the pinnacle of modern and civilised society. However, when they arrive Senlin immediately loses Marya in the dense crowds just outside the tower and he quickly learns that this place is as far from utopia as it gets. This is extremely unique science fiction with steampunk elements throughout, and follows the change in Senlin’s personality and outlook as he ascends through the tower, desperately trying to find his wife. I will admit to feeling a bit deflated about this book about halfway through. The lack of strong and/or independent female characters had me worrying and it seemed to be turning into a “save the damsel in distress story”. However, I was breathing a sigh of relief as I approached the conclusion of the book. Not every female character was a victim! Phew! Overall, a great start to this series and I’m looking forward to reading the second book. 4/5
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cavehags · 5 years ago
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Live blog the book here, I'm so morbidly curious but I'd rather die than read if
okay so it’s… not a liveblog since i already read it but yes here are the highlights of THE GRACE YEAR BY KIM LIGGETT
warning for brief descriptions of many kinds of violence and sexual violence under the cut because kim liggett despises women and wants you to know it!
also sorry for my awful photos of my kindle screen
tierney james lives in a society where women have no rights
every year, all the 16-year-old girls are temporarily banished to the wilderness for a year. if they survive, a few lucky chosen ones among them get to get married off to men in town who choose them (the women have no say)
all women have awful lives. they aren’t allowed to congregate with other women. they aren’t allowed to dream or hum or enjoy sex. their husbands can have them banished or executed for any reason. all the girls and women have to watch other women get executed or whipped or punished in some way at least once a month on the full moons
men claim that women require constant supervision and discipline to keep them in line because they could be harboring secret magic. in theory, the point of the “grace year” is to give the girls a chance to burn out their magic before they come back to civilization
but the magic isn’t actually real, and at least the men who run the town are well aware of that
anyway. tierney sets out for her grace year
she discovers she’s unusually prepared to live in the wilderness because her dad prepared her – her dad is super nice and the narrative never considers for a second that he might be complicit in the harms done to these young girls :) so she does stuff like building rain barrels to catch fresh rainwater because the well water they’re supposed to drink has gross algae in it
but the other girls, led by mean ringleader kiersten, start becoming violent and bringing over the misogynistic rituals from their village into the grace year camp - like cutting off fingertips and cute stuff like that :)
tierney stands up to oppression so they kick her out of the encampment lol. bitches amiright? 
the fear with being kicked out of the encampment is not about having to find food and shelter from wild animals. the main fear is Poachers. so on the outskirts of the main society, exiled women are forced into sex work serving the husbands of the village (yup! really!). those women and their children make up the outskirts community. and the adult sons of that community become poachers – and their prey is grace year girls. poachers lurk around the grace year encampment for girls who have run off, and they try to murder and dismember the girls and sell their body parts back to the city. their body parts are then EATEN as fertility potions and aphrodisiacs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so tierney’s like real scared of poachers lol
except weird thing, this one poacher keeps saving her life. this happens twice
then it happens a third time but she winds up knocked unconscious. and she wakes up naked and strapped to a table with some dude using a knife on her
she’s real scared and assumes she’s being skinned alive, because that is what the poachers do! 
she’s too drugged to resist but over a period of weeks she regains consciousness enough to learn that he was just preventing her from freezing to death!!!! and the knife? well he was cleaning her wounds. with a knife. somehow that’s supposed to make sense. i’m not sure either.
they build up a rapport and i bet you know where this is going
she falls in love with the fucking poacher :) 
basically she develops sympathy for him when she learns that this PROFESSIONAL GIRL-HUNTER unfortunately LIVES IN POVERTY and therefore DESERVES HER COMPASSION
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also poacher is a slur lol
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it’s weird that she’s so forgiving towards him because she hears him talking to his friend and they both call women “it” lmao
but who am i to say what is and is not romance
here’s a little snippet of tierney falling in love with him :) 
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and this is a weird aside that the book definitely did NOT need, but for your own edification, turns out that in the outskirts community, the men do have sex, but only anal
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so anyway this nightmarish misogyny of the main character falling in love with a man who literally hunts teenage girls lasts for maybe a hundred pages
they have sex. even though tierney is likely to get burned at the stake if she returns to the village and her new husband discovers she’s not a virgin. so that’s pretty cool
but eventually tho, another poacher discovers that tierney’s lover is harboring prey and he threatens tierney by telling her he’ll kill her lover if she doesn’t return to the grace year camp right away
she does, because his safety is soooo important to her
again. this man hunts teenage girls
but back at the camp, the girls are super crazy still
oh but one thing tierney learned is that the well water they drink is poisoned and so she thinks if she can get them to stop drinking poison, and to drink from the stream instead, they might get better
see her poacher lover was soooo helpful
back at the camp, the girls are all freaking out that a poacher appears to be creeping around and stealing stuff. tierney assumes it’s the friend of her lover’s who threatened her. the girls at the camp want to just kill her as a sacrifice or something, but tierney convinces them to let her go into the woods to deal with him instead
she does find who was responsible. it turns out it actually wasn’t a poacher at all! it was a guard who she knows who used to work on her family’s estate. he’s a stalker and thinks all girls are whores. it’s not very clear what’s going on with him, but anyway, he dies
but then tierney gets back to the camp and omg the girls have killed a poacher while she was gone!!! tierney freaks out because what if it’s her boyfriend!!!!
it wasn’t, but she still flips out that they very wrongly murdered a woman-hunter
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literally cannot believe it. i literally just cannot believe it
HE WAS GOING TO KILL THEM AND SELL THEIR BODY PARTS FOR PEOPLE TO EAT AS APHRODISIACS
BUT YEAH. THEY’RE WRONG FOR KILLING HIM IN SELF-DEFENSE
tierney has this whole awakening that the poachers are victims of the patriarchy too sdhgiasodghaisdg
her one friend at the camp convinces her to go back and find her poacher lover and live with him in the woods forever
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oh yeah her sisters are going to get banished to the outskirts and be forced into sex work as soon as they get their first period. but it’s worth it so she can be with her poacher lover
anyway she goes back into the woods, but not before her main bully, kiersten, has a confrontation with ANOTHER poacher
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yeah poachers are people too guys
speaking off poachers being human. her lover dies. he dies a hero, protecting tierney
so she goes back to the camp and makes up with the girls
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put yourself first girl worry bout yourself
ANYWAY! their grace year is over and finally they get to return to the town! but there’s a roadblock before tierney can move into her husband’s house: SHE’S PREGNANT, AND SHOWING
yep! she’s been pregnant for at least four months. the book saved this news as a big reveal
no wonder her friend told her to go live in the woods with her lover forever
she is sure to be burned at the stake
and actually tierney is down to get burned at the stake because then she’ll be able to speak her piece about how she feels that the grace year is bullshit with a whole audience listening. (she notes that bodies take a long time to burn, OMG TIERNEY FIND A BETTER WAY). 
but when the village realizes she’s pregnant and everyone is like “BURN HER!!!”, her new fiance heroically intervenes and fakes this whole thing about how actually the baby is his and he wants to marry her anyway
tierney’s like, um, well i really wanted to get burned at the stake, but…….
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that’s right. she decides to live and marry this guy all so the poacher’s family line can live on
anyway tierney’s sort of excited to be friends with her new husband but as soon as she tells him the pregnancy wasn’t from rape, he throws a temper tantrum and goes to chop down some trees to cool off
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bummer
but all is not lost! she makes up with him and she realizes she can love both him AND the poacher lover
and the baby too, one presumes
tierney really has quite a good life for a society where women aren’t people, i have to say
anyway, soon enough she gives birth. in excruciating detail i might add
as soon as the baby is born, tierney realizes that all this time, when she’s been having dreams about this girl with a red birthmark helping her save her people, those dreams were about HER FUTURE DAUGHTER
tierney names the baby grace
she’s literally seventeen years old
and that is the end of the fucking book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so to recap: men who buy women as sex slave wives? are actually kind and loving souls. men who hunt women and dismember them and sell their organs? also kind and loving souls. but teenage girls being fed poison water? those girls are bitches. tierney doesn’t care about them lol
also
in the acknowledgments
the author thanks elizabeth banks and universal pictures for optioning the book
please let this die in development hell i truly can’t take it
worst fucking book i’ve ever read
thank you goodnight
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witchylittlefox · 5 years ago
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My Thoughts and Feelings About Star Wars as of 2019
I held off sharing my complete feelings on this franchise/fandom because I wanted to wait for TROS to be out. since I have seen it now I’m ready to share how I feel about disney owned Star Wars, the fandom war, reylo, and TROS. Heads up these are my opinions and if we disagree that’s okay! But I would appreciate some respect when it comes to nasty comments because some of the things I’m going to say can be..... controversial in the reylo community.
Preface: I have been a Star Wars fan since I was 4 years old. I somehow figured out how to used a VHS machine and I would insert Return of the Jedi and rewind to watch it over and over again. To this day that movie is my favorite out of all of them. Star Wars was something my brother and I shared together and he would lend me all the EU books. I loved all the stories about Jacen and Jaina Solo at Luke’s jedi academy. I grew up with the prequels and yes, I am a prequel defender but they were corny as hell. So not to toot my own horn but I was very much invested in the lore and commited to the series before Disney bought it.
Disney Star Wars: Disney had absolutely no idea what they were doing with the movies (atleast when it comes to the Skywalkers + everyone related to the OT trio). They spat on the OT character’s legacy. They turn Luke into a character who seems to care nothing about helping his sister. No way in the world would Luke just throw a lightsaber off a cliff. Han and Leia are treated a little better (more so Leia), but Disney is passive agressive with them and make them out to be these horrible parents that decide to send away their son because they’re scared of him. No wonder Ben turned out the way he did. Rey, well......they could of written her better and don’t get me wrong I love aspects of her but this should of been Ben’s time to shine. HE should of been the main character of all the movies. Finn? Would of been cool seeing more perspective from an ex stormtrooper but nahhhh let’s just make him fawn over rey in the first one and then in the second give him this whole arc making us think he’s getting somewhere and then another badly written character ruins it. Poe? Well he atleast got more of an arc than Finn but he’s still so flat.
The Fandom Menace And the Fandom War: I decided after TLJ came out that I was not going to label myself in this fight. It seemed like (or atleast on Tumblr) that you couldn’t be a Reylo if you hated Rian Johnson. Rian was made out to be this “savior” of some sorts, just because he focused the movie to be more Reylo centered. YES he is talented. YES I’m thankful he gave us more of a Reylo plot, But jeez that guy is an ass (I didn’t want to cuss in this but oh well lol). Calling out fans on Twitter? Calling them names? Ridiculing Mike Zeroh? Which say what you will about Mike (not a huge fan of him tbh) but god he’s a fan of the series why are you making fun of him? But those people who are apart of the Fandom Menace are not innocent. A lot of them (NOT ALL, but most) only make videos on Youtube hating on Star Wars because it’s cool. They use the hate to get attention. I’m just not all about that. I agree with them on a lot...but seriously at what cost do we have to allow this. Both sides are annoying and immature and I choose not to take a side. I will like what I want about Star Wars and dislike what I want about Star Wars. I am not going to be a sheep. So yes... I am a Reylo, hardcore since TFA came out in 2015 and yes, I think Rian Johnson is a crappy person and I won’t be seeing any of his movies ever again (besides rewatching TLJ) because I don’t want to give money to someone who fuels the fan war. That being said, I dont support (whether that be my viewership or money) anyone who is in the “Fandom Menace” and does the same for the other side.
Reylo: The only thing I really cared about in this sequel trilogy was Reylo. I honestly started to care less about the other characters like Finn and Poe, which in my opinion is sad and just goes to show how bad Disney was at writing these characters. What got me so choked up about their relationship was how raw it was. It wasn’t some unrealistic clean romance. There was no love at first sight (at least on Rey’s end.. can’t say for Ben). It felt so real to me. They reached a level of intimacy that honestly in my opinion reached higher than sexual intercourse. Unconditional love is something that I hold close to my heart, it may be because of my faith, but the fact that Rey saw through Kylo and could see that at his core he was just Ben, emotionally hurt and lost, just wanting someone to believe in him. And she did! she believed in him when his uncle and mother easily gave up hope for him (again horrible character writing bc uhhh sry but isn’t hope supposed to be a theme with them???). And Ben loved her in return!! He protected her and not this stupid patronizing crap that Finn does (Which side note: THAT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH LOL. John Boyega was wasted with this stupid character). Ben knew her strength and worth and only did what a man should do in a relationship, not overstep, not take control but add his part to the relationship, creating symbiosis. If you look up the meaning of “Dyad”, this comes up:
specifically, sociology : two individuals (such as husband and wife) maintaining a sociologically significant relationship
They are equal. No one is better than the other. They are two sides of the same coin and they complete each other.
And at last....
TROS: Well crap. This movie was...... not amazing. I will have to say that I have only seen it once at this point and may make an edit to it if I change my mind. Honestly though... I can’t see myself changing my opinion but it may happen after a second viewing. I had been following the leaks and yup pretty much all true. And yep... Ben dies. Not only does he die but he barely gets any time to shine when he is redeemed. I am grateful we finally got the Reylo kiss we all waiting for but did he really have to die??? I know lots are saying he didn’t die because we didn’t see him show up as a force ghost in the end but obviously there is no confirmation from Disney on this. The fact that he died for her to live just supports everything I have said above. But where was her emotion? I expected her to be crying? it seemed to appear like she couldn’t care less, yet she was the one who went in for the kiss first and then she seems to be fine when everyone is rejoicing and hugging in celebration? Why didn’t they add him in as a voice in her head or something (ooh fanfic idea! :) ) Why did Rey call herself Rey Skywalker?! I’m sorry but she DOES NOT desserve that title plus she is still a Palpatine! That does not change anything. Don’t get me started on Palpatine.... bringing him back was the dumbest decision ever and undid everything that Anakin did. Now I would of been slightly okay with it if they got Anakin in to help to defeat him but we only got his voice and a bunch of other jedi’s voices sharing words of guidance (which ngl it was nice hearing Ahsoka) but holy heck you could of atleast added ben to the mix. They could of both heard the voices and ended Palpatine together? Also what happened to Rey and Kylo fighting through the various scenes of the past movies? I thought that was a leak? They did absolutely NOTHING to tie up the OT and PT. It has no ties to PT, besides Anakin’s voice and some of the other jedi in the mix (Mace Windu, Ayala Secura, Yoda, Ahsoka Tano, etc..). I know I’m nitpicking but I am atleast grateful we got their voices I just wish we actually got to see their faces. That’s a lot of negatives though so here is what I did like:
Babu Frik.
Rey’s kind heart ( you see that when she greets the little girl on Pasaana, helps D.O. and the snake creature)
The banter between Finn, Poe, and Rey
C-3PO ( they really did him justice)
Ben (just all of him everything about him)
Lando was pretty good
Seeing Wicket at the end with his child ( I think that’s his child?)
Wedge Antilles showing up for like one second ( although that could be a negative because I thought he was going to be in it more because of the book Resistance Reborn. WHICH OH YEAH..... this movie retconned that book btw! So not only was it a horrible book but everything in it doesnt matter)
Conclusion: So yeah, I am not happy. But in the end I will always love Star Wars no matter what. This franchise has taught me so much about hope, love, and even redemption. It was such a fun ride on here. There were ups and downs ( anyone remember that Reylo discourse a while back lol) but we made it. Even though as Reylos, it didn’t end the way we wanted it... we still were proved right. We fought hard against the antis when they kept trying to tell us Reylo wasn’t a thing and boy were they wrong..... they were very wrong. I don’t know what the future holds in store for Reylo’s story or even Star Wars but all we have to do is look forward and have hope for Ben because just as the great Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker once said:
"No one is ever really gone."
May the Force be with you all.
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wndamaximov · 5 years ago
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Of Love And Secrets
Part 2: First Date
Main Masterlist                      Series Masterlist
Summary: While y/n was initially stuck in the book store because of the rain, she stayed longer for the handsome stranger that kept her company. But this handsome stranger has a secret- one he’d rather not let see the light of day.
Warnings: Language, Fluff, Abusive Boyfriend, PTSD
Words: 1, 436
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
<< prev
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Y/n’s POV
Y/n deftly maneuvered her way through the crowds of New York, having a heated conversation with the person on the other line. Even though they hadn't been in the weapon business for around 4 years, the publicity around the decision had yet to cease. Although it did die down, the occasional desperate reporter would try to write a critical article on how business was failing ever since the arms division was shut down. Christine Everhart was the worst- and the most relentless. 
Yup, ever since y/n's nice, relaxing time at the bookstore, her life had gone back to its usual chaos. 
"Alright, will they be needing anything else?" she asked politely, to the voice on the other end. She was nearing the Stark Tower, and really wanted to be done with this call by then. She was itching to talk to somebody about last night.
It had ended perfectly, and she'd texted Steve yesterday  just after she reached her apartment.
Y/n: Hey, would you be interested in coming to The Palm with me this Friday? I heard they have the best steak in town. No blue food though :(
Steve: I'd love to! :)
Y/n: :) 
It wasn't much, but those three lines meant a lot to y/n. 
"Hello? Ms y/l/n, are you still there?" Crap. She'd forgotten all about the person in her ear. 
"Yeah, sorry, please continue." She sighed, thinking about how today was going to be a very long day.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Steve’s POV
Steve pushed open the door to Bucky's store, bracing himself for the lecture that was bound to come.
“How stupid could you be?” Bucky was walking towards him a book in one hand, coffee in the other, a pencil stuck through his bun and another tucked behind his ear.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more stupid, you did!”
“I know, I know, it was a mistake,” he admitted.
“Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to do more convincing.” He was about to leave, but Steve opened his mouth once more.
“But…” Steve continued, Bucky’s glare getting more and more intense, “we’re meeting next week.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky whispered angrily, running a hand through his hair, forgetting it was tied. He then stomped away to the “Sci-Fi and Mystery” section, shoving the book in his hand into its proper spot.
Steve followed him, making sure to keep at least a foot of distance between them. “I’m sorry, Buck-”
Bucky whirled around, jabbing his index finger into Steve’s chest, the coffee from his cup spilling a tiny bit over the edge and down his hand. “No! You don’t get to be sorry. You could go to jail, you understand?”
Steve looked down, guilty. “I can’t help it Buck.”
“I know you can’t, punk.” Bucky’s gaze softened, just for a split second. “But don’t come crying to me when something inexplicably goes wrong.”
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Y/n’s POV
“You get ‘em off our back?” Pepper and y/n walked down one of the seemingly endless hallways of the tower discussing business.
“I got ‘em off our back.” Y/n had been able to shake the glorified blogger about ten minutes earlier. 
“Was it Everhart?”
“Not this time, no. You’d think there’d be more buzz on the September Foundation, but people really love bringing back dead news. In order to put Stark Industries back on the headlines for the Foundation, I’d suggest hosting a press conference.” 
Someone passed Pepper something and asked for her signature. After signing the document, Pepper replied. “That can be arranged. Will Tony have to be there?”
“Well, it was his idea.” 
“Okay, I’ll get Tony to come. You just concentrate on alerting the press.”
“Will do. Oh, and can I take Friday evening off?” Pepper stopped moving and turned around, a knowing smile on her face.
"And what's on Friday?"
Y/n let the words, the ones she'd been waiting forever to say, tumble out of her mouth. "I have a date."
"Oh my God, finally! It's been what, five years?" Y/n's heart suddenly stopped, remembering her last boyfriend, Brock. They'd had a whirlwind romance that was amazing before he became abusive. It was the worst year of y/n's life, and the reason why she hadn't been on a date in so long. Thank God Brock was in jail, serving out his sentence. 
Pepper realized what she said, and continued, hoping to make y/n forget about Rumlow, at least for a while. "What's his name- tell me everything about him." And just like that, everything work, and Brock, related left both of their minds. Y/n talked while Pepper listened, hanging onto every word.
"He sounds perfect." And not anything like Brock, is probably what she was thinking.
Before continuing on to the elevator, Pepper told y/n to not even bother coming in on Friday. "Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. Plus, you really need a break. I swear, even the birds and squirrels here know you too well."
Y/n pretended to look offended. "Are you insinuating that everyone's sick of me?"
"No, I'm insinuating that you work too much." Pepper pushed her floor's button, and y/n watched her friend disappear behind the closing doors. 
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Friday, Y/n’s POV
Beams of sunlight hit y/n's face, coaxing her out of a deep sleep. It was the first time in a long time that she hadn't woken up to an alarm blaring, startling her awake.
She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stretched herself out on the bed. Today was the day of her big date, and she cold feel the butterflies fluttering around her stomach.
When reading romance novels, the butterflies sound so glamorous, only being a light case of nerves. For y/n, however, she felt like throwing up.
She still remembered her first date with Brock, how nice and sweet he was, just like Steve, before turning into something dark, twisted, and ugly. All of a sudden y/n didn't feel like going on a date anymore.
Just as she was about to text Steve to cancel, her doorbell rang. It was Pepper.
"You were going to cancel, weren't you?" 
"How did you know?"
"Because I know you. Also, you look like you've been crying." Y/n touched her face, surprised to find it wet. She hadn't even realized.
"Oh, and I brought backup." 
Just then, Tony Stark passed through her door, playing Shoot To Thrill by AC/DC, and said, "It's Britney Bitch."
Y/n laughed, wiping away her tears, and walked up to hug him. "Thanks, but you guys didn't need to come."
"Yeah, we did. Pepper- hair, makeup, and wardrobe STAT! I'll stay here and make sure she doesn't cancel."
Pepper rolled her eyes. "Of course, you get the easy job." 
Y/n didn't care who did what, as long as she had her friends next to her. 
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Time of date, Steve’s POV
Steve sat at their table, fidgeting with the fork and knife. This place was so out of his budget, what with the whole fancy design and immaculately dressed patrons. He felt out of place with his rented tux. 
He took a sip of water, and mid swallow, he saw her. She looked gorgeous, with a flowery, sleeveless top that flowed into a gown cut short. It was the color of blood, a deep scarlet.
He stood up to help her get seated. "You look... beautiful."
"Thanks- you do too." They shared a soft smile.
"So, work keeping you busy?" They easily fell into the rhythm they had at the book store. It was only broken twice by the waiter taking their order. Then came the time Steve was dreading- the check came.
"I gotta be honest." Steve was almost as red as y/n's dress at this point. "This place is way out of my league," he whispered, leaning close so that only y/n could hear.
She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. Steve sat back in his seat, unsure of what to make of the situation.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, that was rude." She took a sip of her water, then dropped her card onto the plate containing the check. She didn't even let Steve protest.
"What's mine is yours," y/n said when he tried to object.
Other than that minor hiccup, the night was perfect. It ended with a mind-shattering kiss, where it felt like time had stopped and they were the only ones truly living. Not to mention, his secret was still safe.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
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arosnowflake · 5 years ago
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About arospec headcannon thing anyone from FMA of your choice and a character from a series/book that you have enjoying latelly!
“character from a series/book that you have enjoying latelly” bold of you to assume I’ve had the attention span to be reading anything anon. the only thing I’ve been reading lately is ‘The Bacchae and Other Works’, demonstrating that I can, in fact, be a smart literary reader every once in a while, but the only play I’ve finished is Ion, and like… sure Athena is aro, but I also feel like headcanoning a greek god as aro is kinda cheating, but in the spirit of ancient greek myths, I’ll be doing my fave aro headcanon, Percy Jackson. He’s going under the cut though, because Ed’s turned out… long. Sorry about that.
Anyway, from FMA, I’m (predicatably) picking Edward Elric, because I can’t and won’t stop:
What arospec identities do they have? (Can be as specific or vague as desired)
I generally headcanon Ed as nebularomantic, though I also really really like the headcanon of him having my exact aro experience because honestly, I like projecting onto him. But I usually go with nebularomantic because I feel like the headcanon possibilities for that are more interesting, so I’ll go with that in this post.
(Or arovague, a little more, maybe? He’s nebularomantic in the sense that a) alexithymia makes figuring out whether he’s feeling platonic or romantic attraction pretty much impossible, and b) he feels like he doesn’t really fit into society’s ideas of romance due to it heavily being tied up into neurotypical standards, and finds the concept of romantic relationships/romantic attraction somewhat inaccessible to him as a result. So he’s kind of a mix between nebularomantic, quoiromantic with the ‘disidentifies with the concept of romantic attraction’ definition, and arovague, I guess, but I think he’d just use nebularomantic because it’s easier and it still encompasses his experiences very well.)
How proud of being arospec are they?
Pretty proud, if only because he knows it pisses people off and he loves doing that. He’s not dropping it into every conversation ever, but he definitely has a couple pins and shows up at pride with the flag painted on his cheeks.
Do they prioritize their arospec identity over any others?
I’d say that on the Minority Identity tier, it’s probably his least important identity to him, definitely after autistic/ADHD (kind of the same thing to him) and nonbinary. It’s still pretty important to him, though. Maybe the only thing he prioritizes it over might be his amputee status, mostly because, since he grew up with a bunch of automail engineers and later living in Rush Valley with Paninya and Winry for a long while, amputees have kinda become the norm for him. However, I can also see that, due to the Circumstances surrounding the loss of his limbs, he might prioritize his physical disability anyway, because he’s had to learn to take pride in it, whereas for the nebularomanticism, that came pretty naturally.
Are they out? If so, how did they come out, and to whom?
He’s out to pretty much everyone, although the only people he actually sat down and had a conversation with were Winry, Paninya, and Al. Winry because she helped him figure out he wasn’t allo (even if he couldn’t pin down his specific aro identity), and Paninya because he brought it up when he proposed starting a qpr to sort of close a sort of ‘qpr’ triad between him, Winry, and Paninya. Al also knows because Ed talked his feelings over with him when he was still questioning, and then Mei found the identity ‘nebularomantic’ and told Al, who told Ed, and that’s how Ed figured out his identity.
How do they feel about romance? Romance-favorable? Romance-neutral? Romance-repulsed? Or does it fluctuate?
Romance-neutral, largely. I mean, he’s married, so that counts as romance-favourable probably, but honestly? He’s mostly neutral to the concept of romance because he doesn’t understand why it exists. It’s pretty much impossible for him to separate neurotypical expectations of romance and love from the concept of romantic relationships/romantic attraction in general, and this was one of the main reasons he and Winry decided to change their relationship from ‘romantic’ to ‘idk what but we’re definitely important to another/queerplatonic-ish’; he constantly felt like he was failing in romance, and Winry had a bit of trouble adjusting her expectations from a generic romantic relationship to one with Ed once they moved from a long distance relationship to a short distance one, so they felt like it was best to change the label. But that said, he’s not repulsed, and he’s not necessarily opposed to the concept of a romantic relationship, he just doesn’t really understand why that exists and has trouble living up to the neurotypical standards it generally entails.
Have they ever experienced arophobia? If so, how?
Some mild stuff, but nothing extreme. He married Winry fairly young, so that warred off all the ‘I can fix you/you need to be fixed’ and ‘you’re horrible and are going to die alone!’ flavours of arophobia, but at the same time, the fact that he married her means that a lot of people deny, ignore, and/or erase his arospec identity. Even showing up in public with an aro/nebularomantic pride flag doesn’t stop people from ignoring it. Since he’s a pretty high-profile figure, this means that it’s especially noticeable.
In addition, he’s also faced some ableist-specific arophobia in people saying that he just doesn’t understand romantic attraction because he’s autistic/ADHD, which, yeah, duh, that’s why he identifies as nebula? But people use that to deny his identity, saying that his aro identity isn’t real because it’s caused/affected by his neurodivergency, or that it must be fixed with therapy. He generally punches those people in the face and they shut up really quickly.
How do they show their arospec pride?
Like I said, he goes to pride and paints his cheeks in the nebularomantic/aromantic pride colours (one on each cheek), and he doesn’t shy away from talking about it in day-to-day life. On the rare occasion that he makes a public appearance such as an interview or as a gala attendee (mostly when he’s lost a bet to Mustang or Ling), he usually takes either a small or big flag with him (depending on the mood he’s in), just to smirk when people get awkward or try to ignore it.
Do they actively try to combat amatonormativity in their daily lives or elsewhere? If so, how?
He constantly corrects people if they call Winry his wife (yes, they’re partners, and yes, they’re married, but ‘wife’ specifically has connotations to him that he doesn’t like), constantly corrects them if they assume he’s alloro, and just generally is an obnoxious arospec fuck who’s not going to let any part of his arospec identity get erased.
Was it easy for them to label themselves arospec, or was there a long period of questioning? How many labels did they have to try before landing on the one they use now?
The questioning process took pretty long, both due to the complicated nature of his identity and alexithymia hindering the process. As I already said, it’s pretty much impossible for him to distinguish neurotypical expectations of romance from romantic attraction/relationships, but he was also aware that societal expectations =/= romantic attraction at its core, so he didn’t know if his confusion surrounding the matter was enough to make him anything but allo. Furthermore, there was the fact that alexithymia made trying to figure out whether what he was feeling was platonic or romantic pretty much impossible: he could barely figure out if he was feeling hungry, fuck if he knew he was having a squish or a crush. There was also the obvious fact that yup, he sure married Winry, and he didn’t want to divorce her because he did want to be in some kind of relationship, but he didn’t know if that was because he was feeling any kind of romantic (or platonic, for that matter) attraction, or because he simply felt at home with her, and yes he did consider that the ‘at home’ feeling might’ve been romantic, but probably not, since he also feels it with Al, but then again it was still very much different with Al, so maybe…?
Anyway, you get the point. Questioning was long and messy, and eventually came to a head when Winry basically said ‘look listen I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you promised not to keep me in the dark anymore, so spit it out’ so he did and she basically said ‘well in my expert alloromantic opinion that’s not very allo’ and he went ‘oh. shit. why didn’t I ask you earlier’ (it was because he’s the world’s smartest idiot). So they sat down and figured things out, and eventually agreed that it would be best if they ‘cancelled’ the romance aspect of their relationship for now, just to figure out what would work for them.
Also Mei was actually the one who found the term ‘nebularomantic’ way later, when she was researching arospec identities after her and Al’s relationship crashed and burned horribly (she definitely has access to a huge library of queer identities in Ling’s palace shut up), and Al heard her say the definition and he went ‘oh shit that’s my brother’, so then he called Ed and that’s how Ed came to identify as nebularomantic.
Would they be interested in a QPR? Why or why not?
He’s in a queerplatonic triad with Winry and Paninya! The relationship is actually kind of complicated, with Winry and Paninya being in a romantic relationship, Ed and Winry being in a committed relationship they’re chosing not to label at the moment, and Paninya and Ed being in the world’s most casual qpr, but the three of them call their triad ‘queerplatonic’ to simplify stuff. He probably wouldn’t necessarily search out a qpr, I think, but he very much loves people (regardless of whether or not it’s platonic or romantic or something else entirely), and he does like living with other people, so he’d probably have fallen into one naturally anyway, even if canon hadn’t played out the way it did.
Final thoughts?
If you think that I won’t headcanon someone as arospec just because they married and had kids at the end of the series then you’re so fucking mistaken.
What arospec identities do they have? (Can be as specific or vague as desired)
Percy’s demiromantic!
How proud of being arospec are they?
Very proud! If you think he ever stops making demi jokes, you are very very wrong. He goes to pride, has pins, has a flag up in his room, and generally won’t shut up about it.
Do they prioritize their arospec identity over any others?
Somewhat! He’s both demisexual and demiromantic, and he doesn’t necessarily separate those two out, but he does prioritize both of those over his demiboy identity, though that’s definitely important to him too and he’s proud of that as well (plus, he appreciates the pun material).
Are they out? If so, how did they come out, and to whom?
He’s out! After he figured it out the first thing he did was kick Annabeth’s door open and go ‘Annabeth Holy Fuck!’, so she knows. His mom and Paul know, because he actually had a Serious Coming Out conversation with them (he knew they’d take it well, but still). Everyone else at camp also knows, because he won’t shut up about it, and also like everyone at Camp Halfblood is queer as fuck, so they just kind of expected something like this sooner or later. The puns are an unwelcome surprise, though.
How do they feel about romance? Romance-favorable? Romance-neutral? Romance-repulsed? Or does it fluctuate?
None of the above, he’s very firmly romance oblivious. He’s not going to catch you flirting with him, he WILL read over romance subplots without picking up on them, he is always the last to catch on to relationships his friends have started, etc. etc. He’s romance-favourable in the sense that he’s currently in a romantic relationship with Annabeth, but honestly, I don’t think he cares enough about romance to use any of the above labels.
Have they ever experienced arophobia? If so, how?
Yeah, he’s had a bunch of assholes tell him that he’s just straight, or that he needs to use demi as a modifier, or that demiromanticism doesn’t exist, etc. etc. However, he’s been lucky enough to have a supportive family and a queer as fuck friendgroup, so it hasn’t been as bad as it could’ve been and he’s had a lot of support.
How do they show their arospec pride?
PUNS (IN THE FORM OF DEMI- JOKES). SO MANY FUCKING PUNS. NEITHER HE NOR I WILL SHUT UP ABOUT THE PUNS.
Do they actively try to combat amatonormativity in their daily lives or elsewhere? If so, how?
Sort of? He’s loudly demi, which combats amatonormativity pretty much automatically, but he’s not exactly the type to go around educating everyone about the concept of amatonormativity or anything. That’s what Annabeth is for.
Was it easy for them to label themselves arospec, or was there a long period of questioning? How many labels did they have to try before landing on the one they use now?
Honestly, he just sort of assumed that the world was playing a prank on him regarding this ‘falling in love at first sight’ thing, or in general, this ‘falling in love’ thing. He’s never had a crush on anyone before Annabeth, and was honestly halfway convinced that the concept was fake until her, but he also never really analyzed that? He just kind of… assumed that was normal. Calypso was the first real wrench in that theory, but he chalked it up to her being not human and went about his life.
Aaand then he overheard someone talking about being demi, got massively confused for a second, asked for clarification before, you know, calling a satyr, and realized ‘oh hey that’s me!’.
So all in all, the questioning process was pretty straight forward, just hampered by him being very oblivious.
Would they be interested in a QPR? Why or why not?
Hmmm, maybe? I think he’s satisfied with his romantic relationship with Annabeth, but I also don’t necessarily think he’d be opposed to one. I don’t think he’d search one out, but if someone asked, he’d probably be willing to give it a go.
Final thoughts?
This was my first ever aro headcanon and I can and WILL die on this hill.
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