#BUT. i also look at it and i think - man we did this. we put all this work in. and it deserves to be recognized i think. ya know

[lionneee]

Let The World Burn

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English is not my first language, please be kind

Modern!MafiaBoss!Aemond x fem!Reader

•Warnings: murder, kidnapping, attempted rape, omicide, fire.•

“Your boyfriend is a tough one.” He smirked as he walked behind you. You tried to talk against the gag, but all it came out were strangled sounds and whines. “He’s also hard to find.” The man pushed the blindfold down your head, over your eyes.

You trembled on the floor, fear consuming you.

“Way harder than you are anyway.” He chuckled. “But you’ll be more than useful to do the trick. I’d be surprised if I won’t see your pretty boyfriend kicking down the door to get you.”

“Sir- I’m sorry, but the lead we had turned out wrong-“

“Get out!” Aemond raised from the chair of his office, his loud voice filling the room. The private detective quickly left the office, running outside.

Aemond was a complete mess.

He managed to resist two days with your missing, before it completely started to tore him apart. He was completely out of his head, he needed to find you.

He threw the papers on his desk on the floor with all the force he had, then he paced in the room, his hair a mess, his knuckles bloody from the amount of jaws he broke to get any kind of information about your abduction.

“Fuck!” He shouted as he hit the wall with his fist.

“You need to eat.” He said as he walked in the room, taking off your gag by undoing the tie on the back of your head. “We’re not trying to kill you.” He said before freeing your hands, sitting on the chair right in front of you. You looked down at the floor, finding a tray with food and water. You quickly started to eat, you had been starving for days. You looked up at him for a moment, curious about your kidnapper.

White hair.

You scooped back on the floor, managing to get away maybe a couple of inches before hitting the pole you’ve been handcuffed to with your back.

“Daemon.” You mumbled, Your voice was shaking as much as your hands.

“That would be me, princess.” He smirked as he sat back on his chair.

“W-why are you doing this?” You kept stuttering, you were terrified. “I-I didn’t-”

“I know. You didn’t do anything.” He cut you off. “But your boyfriend… My nephew did. He killed someone he shouldn’t have touched.” He looked loosely at you, studying your reaction.

You looked at him confused, your brows arching, your expression contorting into one of confusion, then pain, then disbelief.

“Luke.” You whispered as soon as the realisation hit you. Daemon’s gaze hardened but then he nodded. 

“Smart girl.” He commented. “He killed him. So now I have to kill Aemond.”

“No!” Your voice raised, your eyes filling with tears as soon as you saw the seriousness in his intentions. “Y-you can’t! He’s your family!” You shook your head, your hands flying to the knife on the tray. But Daemon was faster, blocking both of your wrists the moment you moved, and handcuffing them back to the pole behind you. 

“Luke was family too.” He growled. You squirmed, trying to get free, but to no avail. Demon put the gag back on and left you to cry as he walked away again in the darkness of the room.

“They’re trying to torture you, brother.” Aegon said as he looked at his brother. He was leaning against his desk table, his nails scraping the expensive wood. His head was hung down, his hair covering his face. “You have to get yourself back together. We have to think of strategies on how to take them down.”

His brother was the last one that had a right to say something like that to Aemond.

They took his girl, damn it.

“Get out.” Aemond growled. 

It had been weeks since the last time he got a proper sleep. He was cold, his bed was colde.

You weren’t there to warm it for him.

To warm him.

His fingers ached to feel your skin again, so soft, and smooth.

He missed your scent, even more now, since the pillow lost any trace of it. 

The first days he pressed his face in it, and fucked his hand.

Then he would just scream in it, then fall asleep surrounded by your scent.

The day he couldn't smell you anymore, he thought he might actually go crazy, for good.

He missed you.

And he needed you, he knew it now better than ever.

“I’m impressed by your lack of preparation for this kind of situation.” She immediately sat up, her eyes snapping open at the sound of his voice. Daemon pushed the tray towards her and she  quickly lunged forward to at least drink some water.

“W-why? Why now?” She looked up at him and he took off her handcuffs. She quickly grabbed some bread from the tray and started eating it.

There was no scheme on the timing of her meals. They seemed random, and curiosity was keeping her mind full.

She didn’t know why she cared so much to find that out, if it was boredness or just a way to escape the fear.

Daemon chuckled as he sat on the chair as usual.

“You think you’re having a hard time, uh? Being kidnapped, staying here, in the darkness and coldness.” He let out a scoff. “You eat whenever Rhaenyra eats.” He explained. 

Rhaenyra.

“S-so that’s your first thought when you see her eat? Feed me?”

“You’re not the victim here. Whatever you’re going through, is nothing compared to Rhaenyra’s pain. You’re hungry? You’re scared? She’s grieving a son..” He hissed as he stood up, walking closer, squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 

Your eyes filled with tears as she only tried to imagine what it would be like to lose a son.

To lose something that you made, that you gave birth to. That you raised and loved.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as strong conflicting emotions grew inside you.

How could you love Aemond, knowing he was the cause of such pain?

Knowing he was capable of killing one of his own family, knowing that the pain Rhaenyra is suffering now, is bigger than anything Aemond could have gone through when he lost his eye.

“You…” He clenched his jaw. “You are going to suffer. You are going to stay here, with fear eating you alive. The fear that I might come in, and beat you, not feed you ever again, touch you, rape you.” He growled, his face a mask of fury. You whined as he clenched his hands on your cheeks, hurting you, and tried to break free, but he was determined to keep you there.

“And whenever one of those things will happen.” He moved closer, his face inches from yours. “You better remember, this is all Aemond’s fault.” He then pressed his lips against yours, but it wasn't out of affection or desire.

Or better, it wasn’t about sexual desire.

It was a promise that he will act on his threats.

“Listen, Aemond, you have to face it. She’s gone. They’re letting you think she’s still alive only to mess with you, okay? We have a war to win, we can’t let an insignificant girl reduce you like-”

Aemond just snapped.

An insignificant girl? She was the love of his life.

Aemond quickly wrapped a hand around Aegon's neck, squeezing tight as he pushed him back against the wall.

“What did you say?” He hissed, his voice low and dangerous. Aegon widened his eyes, struggling against his brother's hold.

“L-Listen man-” Aegon’s voice was strained due to the lack of air. “J-just saying, okay? She was pretty and all but-”

“But nothing.” He shoved Aegon away, letting him fall on the floor. “I’m giving you two more days.” He said as he sat back on his chair behind his desk. “Then I’ll burn the world to the fucking ground, with you in it.”

“Wake up!” You heard a loud yell, a male voice that snapped you out of your moment of sleep.

“I said, wake up!” He yelled again, grabbing your hair and yanking your face up from the floor.

You let out a sharp scream at the pain then went through your head.

“Tell me where he is.” Daemon crunched down in front of you, his hand closing into a fist and pulling your hair harder. You whined loudly as you tried to raise your head to reduce the pain, but it was useless, you were too tired, too weak.

“I don’t know..:” You sobbed, opening your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the strong light that was pointed at your face.

You’ve spent days, maybe even weeks in darkness, your eyes weren’t used to the light anymore, let alone such a strong one.

“Bullshit. Start talking.” He growled as he tugged at your hair.

“I swear I don’t!” You sobbed. “We never met in any place of his business, I don’t know!” You cried desperately.

Daemon let out a loud grunt, shoving your head back and sending it against the pole behind you.

Your vision blurred as your body slowly grew weaker to even stay awake.

The last thing you heard was:

“Arrange her funeral. Rhaenys deserves it.”

“It’s been months.” Helaena said as she sat beside him on his couch.

“She’s not dead.” Aemond grunted. His elbows rested on his knees, the palms of his hands holding his head.

He was tired of people remembering him how long it had passed.

He had already been too patient, but Aegon had only one day left.

Then he was going to take the world, and destroy it piece by piece until he’d found her.

“If she would have been dead we would have found the body already.” Helaena patted his shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t think she’s dead. I… I can feel it.” She whispered.

Aemond clenched his hands into fists.

He had always been the first to push Helaena back, telling her that the way she just felt things was absurd and surreal. 

Useless.

“Me too.” He breathed out, passing his hand through his hair in frustration. “She is alive.” He stood up and walked to his desk again.

That was when Aegon stormed inside.

“Found her.”

“Stay away!” You yelled as Daemon grabbed your ankle, dragging you towards him.

“Shut up, bitch.” He growled as he hovered over you, pinning your wrists over your head with one hand, and slapping your face with the other. “You’re just a cheap whore he bought. He doesn’t care about you, he’s not going to save you.” He hissed as he settled between your legs, thrusting his hips between your thighs, making clear his intention. “You’re only good for one thing.” He put his hand over one of your breasts, groping it tightly, making you whine and cry in pain. “He has left you behind. He left you to me.”

You screamed and kicked your feet, trying to get him off of you, but it seemed impossible.

“No! No, please no!” You sobbed as you kept squirming. “Don’t touch me! Please, I’m so sorry for Rhaenyra, please!” You cried desperately, but he simply smiled.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, in a sickening, mad way. “Shut the fuck up.” He laughed even more. “You’re mine now. You’re my prize. My trophy.”

“No -” You screamed as soon as he grabbed your knee to spread your legs, so he could grind against you. Daemon tried to kiss you, but you quickly turned your head, and screamed again as you saw a wooden wall catching fire quickly.

Daemon’s head quickly turned as he smelled the smoke and saw the fire lighting the room.

He quickly stood up as he looked at the fire, which kept eating everything it found.

“Kill anyone you see. I’ll go get her.” He told Aegon before entering the house. He put on his mask and walked in the big fog of smoke, his gun in hand.

Everyone was quickly running out, no one seemed to see or care about him as he walked inside.

Pieces of the house were starting to fall, the fire was burning everything it found.

Then he heard a scream, and his ears suddenly perked out.

He quickly ran toward the scream, stepping to a side of the house that hadn’t really picked up fire yet. He stopped in front of a door and quickly kicked it open the moment he heard another scream.

The fire in the room lightened the room enough for Aemond to see the scene clearly.

Daemon was on top of you.

And he was touching you.

Aemond's vision went red.

With a feral growl, he raised his gun, the barrel pointed directly at Daemon’s head. Before Daemon could react, a single deafening gunshot rang through the room. The bullet struck Daemon squarely in the shoulder, knocking him off of you with a roar of pain.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” Aemond snarled, stepping closer as Daemon writhed on the floor. His icy blue eye burned with rage, his jaw clenched so tight it could crack. He aimed the gun again, this time pointing at Daemon’s crotch, shaking with the force of his fury.

Daemon’s scream of pain almost shook the walls of the room, but Aemond couldn’t care less.

You were trembling, tears streaming down your face as you scrambled back against the pole where your wrists were still handcuffed to. Aemond’s gaze flicked to you, softening for just a moment. His chest heaved as he took in your disheveled appearance, the bruises on your wrists, the fear in your eyes. His heart broke and hardened all at once.

“You’ll die here, Daemon.” Aemond spat, his voice cold and merciless. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger again, this time hitting Daemon’s leg. A scream tore from Daemon’s throat, but his laughter didn’t stop, maddeningly unhinged.

“You think this will bring her back to you? She knows what you’ve done.” Daemon wheezed. “She’ll never look at you the same.”

Aemond's eye narrowed. He took a step closer and delivered a swift, brutal kick to Daemon’s side, silencing him momentarily. He quickly searched him to find the keys to your handcuffs and as soon as he found them he turned back to you, crouching low and reaching out carefully.

“It’s me, baby." He murmured, his voice gentler now. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You flinched at first, but as recognition dawned, you started sobbing uncontrollably. Aemond quickly freed your wrists and wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other gripping you like he’d never let go. “You’re safe now." He whispered, rocking you gently despite the chaos around you. “No one will ever touch you again. I swear it.”

The sound of creaking wood snapped him back to the present. The fire was spreading rapidly, consuming the walls and ceiling. Aemond stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as he carried you out of the room.

You could see Daemon still looking at you, a sad smile on his face.

You almost pitied him, despite knowing who he was, and what he just tried to do to you, you still felt sorry for him.

Because the man that was now carrying you out of the house in fire, had won a third time, and with that, the whole war.

That man, Aemond, destroyed their life, and killed them inside the moment he shot Luke’s head.

Aemond paused at the doorway, glancing back at Daemon, who was slumped on the floor, bleeding and coughing. “Burn in hell." Aemond said coldly before turning and carrying you out of the burning house.

Even if you did want to leave, where could you go?

Aemond looked down at you as he carried you outside, and you coughed because of the smoke. His eyes studied carefully your face as his hands tightened around you.

He was not going to let you go, so where could you go?

Aemond gently placed you in his car and before walking to the driver seat, he gently caressed your face.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, baby.”

A shiver went down your spine, and suddenly, a feeling you never thought you would feel with Aemond spreaded in your chest.

Fear.

Because even if you wanted to leave, there was nowhere to go. 

You were stuck with a serial killer that loved you.

Taglist: @ka1afbr@cynic-spirit@ladythornofrivia@zenka69@queenofthekeep@adorewhatever@diannnnsss@kotadislikesthissite@iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe @sapphirevaghar

[mymoshangthoughts]

okay i know that we all know and love "mobei jun basically marries shang qinghua and shang qinghua is too oblivious/busy/stressed/insecure/etc to realize until its ridiculous" but like

have we considered the opposite? (also if we have considered the opposite, please someone link me to the fics thankyou)

look im just saying i would love a morally bankrupt shang qinghua whose just like "okay so imma marry that man and im 99% sure he loves me too so im just gonna force the issue" but mobei jun is so unfamiliar with human courting and weddings that he just has No Fucking Idea and he's spending all this time pathetically pining after shang qinghua without the slightest understanding that they're already in a committed relationship

i just keep thinking about how mobei jun answered binghe on the "get someones attention question" and how genuinely surprised he was by shang qinghua's answer 🤣 like he reallllyyyy doesnt know the first thing about human courting oki and it's hilarious

also my personal hc but i totally think that shang qinghua is the type of morally corrupt asshole who would 100% trap the guy he wants if he had any inkling that he wouldnt get murdered for doing it

(this might be because i see shang qinghua and luo binghe as sorta similar personality-wise🤣)

even better if the story is just ridiculous for mobei jun not to realize. just him practically breaking down with "i mean we have sex twice a day and we're always at each others sides and qinghua arranged this weird ceremony a year ago and insisted we had to wear red for some reason but like... qinghua is super weird and he never hits me so i dont think he loves me 😭 i mean he did hit me the first time we had sex but it was only the one time!"

sha hualing just like "hm, yeah, that is a lot of mixed signals :/ idk what to tell you man, i think your feelings are unrequited. also that gross rodent isnt worth your time. also get out of my house, i am 100% sick of dealing with this shit after binghe"

shang qinghua literally oblivious to the agony he's putting mobei jun through 🤣

[haikyu-mp4]

Other plans

“Did ya hear about Hinata? Heard he got a girlfriend in Brazil, but I ain't judging or anything!” – @simpingdeadcharacters for my Gossip Event.

word count; 836 – gn!reader

“Shoyooo!” you yelled as you ran onto the sand, the heat of it under your feet barely affecting you as you took such quick steps until you reached Hinata. He opened his arms for you, spinning you around until finally putting you back down, quickly pressing a kiss to your temple. Most of his body was already covered in sand, so you absentmindedly started brushing some off his upper arm. For a second, you salivated at the sight of his tanned biceps, but you were quickly pulled back into the moment when he spoke.

“Took you long enough, slow poke. Ready for a round?” he asked, gesturing to the woman and her son who had taken the other side of the net. Hinata really would play against anyone who wanted to, and it was one of many things that made you fall for the man you now proudly called your boyfriend.

You squinted at the challenge and his teasing remark on you being five minutes late to the match, also making sure to politely greet today’s opponents. “I’m ready when you are.”

And so you spent another perfect day in the sun, playing until your sunscreen ran out. As you sat by the ocean this particular evening, you let your hands slowly rub across Hinata’s shoulders with the aftersun as the actual sun kissed the horizon, leaving the sky in a plethora of colours that you swore only Brazil could emit.

Hinata let out a small moan as you put pressure between his neck and shoulder blades, and you took the hint to keep pressing and help his muscles release the lactic acid. “You played really well today, you’re getting so good at setting,” you praised him, finishing the massage and leaning onto his back, arms hanging loose from over his shoulders. Hinata turned his head to kiss your cheek, nose brushing against your cheekbone.

“Thanks! Your spikes got better as well, but you still beat me on receives.” You chuckled proudly, poking his cheek in a teasing manner.

“I think we make a pretty good team.” Getting up off the sand, you offered him a hand and pulled him up, letting him take you under his arms as you two strolled to the small showers where the sand met asphalt. “You first, hot shot,” you encouraged, pressing the knob that made the water start, only for Hinata to push you straight under it. This water was always so cold, startling you as you squealed and ran back out of reach from the stream.

Hinata laughed, slapping his knee as if someone said the funniest joke ever. “You always fall for that!”

You huffed and smiled, swiftly taking the bag with his clean clothes, bolting onto the sand and towards the ocean. Your boyfriend ran after you on instinct but only realised what you were threatening him with when he saw you holding out his bag towards the water.

Luckily for you, you had lived there much longer and were much more used to running on sand, meaning you left Hinata in the dust for a while. The only problem was that your laughter made it more difficult to breathe, making you more tired, unfortunately slowing you down enough for him to tackle you to the ground.

The two of you tumbled onto the sand, aftersun sticking even more than your sweat had before, but neither of you seemed to care. Hinata smiled when he heard your laugh, tucking his face into your neck and blowing raspberries that always made you laugh even more at the ticklish feeling. Eventually, the raspberries turned into hot, open-mouthed kisses, making you move your head to give him more access.

“Let’s sleep at yours tonight, yeah?” Hinata suggested, and you adored the boyish look on his face when he lifted his face from your neck, pupils blown wide.

“But I miss Pedro,” you complained, giggling when Hinata rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on movie night with Pedro today,” he said, lips making their way down your neck and across your collarbone to the exposed part of your chest, then pulling your shirt down a little to explore further.

“Ahaa,” you hummed in understanding. “You had other plans?”

Hinata groaned as he finally detached himself from you, getting up off the sand and picking his bag back up where you left it beside you. “I plan on practising some spiking, if you know what I mean.”

The cheeky grin on his face made you slap his arm after getting up, knowing the suggestive meaning behind his words, but not making any attempt at rejecting it.

“Fine, I’ll come see Pedro another day.”

“Stop talking about Pedro when we’re discussing sexy time,” Hinata complained as you moved towards your bikes again, skipping the showers altogether in favour of bringing some beach home.

“Stop comparing my ass to a volleyball,” you countered, making him grin again.

“I can’t help it. That’s all I see.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay with Pedro.”

“Shut up.”

masterlist

[letaliabane]

Trip Up - Valet!SimonRiley and Maid!Reader

The abbey was on alert today. A telegram from the Lord Price's sister stating she would be visiting along with members of the Crawley family who had moved into the village.

This included the new heir to Downton Abbey Matthew Crawley, John's third cousin, who was rumored to marry Lady Mary, John's oldest daughter.

'I can't stand the thought of my only purpose being to marry. To be thrown at every heir to Downton so that the money stays in the family,' Mary said in frustration, putting on her earrings as you did her hair, 'All I want is to be chosen for me any only that.'

You nodded, putting the last of the beaded pins in her hair. She had chosen a lavender skirt with a cream blouse for the day, finished with a simple cardigan.

'It just feels so belittling. What do you think Y/N?' She asked, looking thoughtfully at you through the mirror.

You gave her a gentle smile, 'I agree m'lady. If it were my choice, I would indeed marry for love. It's more important than most things.'

'And of course position. I could never forget that! This new heir is apparently quite middle class and I just won't have that!'

You couldn't help but sigh at her words.

Mary was a kind young and beautiful lady, but at times had a cold heart and hard exterior to protect it, which included a cruel nature to those she despised.

'How is that new valet doing? Mr Riley wasn't it?'

'Oh, he's quite settled in m'lady, now that it has been a few months,' You said as you moved around the room, clearing and folding clothes away to where they belonged, 'I think he's still shaken the staff up but much better than it was previously.'

Mary tapped her perfume to her wrists, saying, 'Thank goodness, I felt terrible for Papa. He talks about Mr Riley like a dear old friend, it would be a shame if he doesn't feel welcome here, even as a valet.'

'Agreed, now I should probably head down. Will that be all m'lady?'

'Yes, thank you Y/N.'

You made your way down to the servants hall, putting away anything that needed cleaning from the daughter's rooms. Before too long, the staff were rounded up at the stairs, Mr Garrick doing final inspections of uniforms before we went up to meet our guests.

'We should go out to greet them all, now be on your best behavior. I'll have nothing less!' Mr Garrick said, the younger staff nodding nervously while others remained silent.

'Remember to not go running off William, I'll need your help with the bags,' Graves muttered to the youngest and newest of the footmen.

Mr Riley who was standing at the base of the stairs turned to him. 'I'm happy to assist you if needed.'

'No need! Don't more mistakes do we Mr Riley?' Graves was quick to quip back. You couldn't help but shake your head, following the other maids up the stairs.

The staff were lined up at the front of the incredibly beautiful house as the cars rolled in one by one through the gates, coming to a halt just in front of the tall double doors.

Lord John pushed forward first, her Ladyship Liliana close behind him to also greet Matthew. From the look of him, he looked like a kind man. Young, blond and blue-eyed just like his mother, Isobel, who followed close behind him. Older, a little grey-haired, but back straight with a smile.

The daughters greeted their aunts happily, while awkwardly greeting the newcomers. After brief chatter was shared amongst the family, they began to move into the house slowly.

Suddenly a scuffle erupted, the maids gasping as your eyes turned to see Mr Riley crash hard onto the pebbled ground, stones flying about messily and, to your horror, his mask.

You glanced up and saw Graves, an ugly smirk on his face as he looked down on the valet, his foot strangely kicked out in place before walking towards the back entrance.

'Riley, are you alright?'

You looked to see John coming to his side, grabbing the mask from the ground and handing it to him. The rest of the family watched on in shock.

'I am my lord, my apologies,' You heard Mr Riley grumble, keeping his face down as he placed his mask back on properly.

When his lordship had turned back to usher his family inside, Johnny, who stood tall at the door awaiting their entry, gave you a nod which you returned.

As the staff quickly dispersed, you went to Mr Riley's side, gently pressing a hand to his shoulder.

'Here, let me help you, Mr Riley,' You quietly said, grabbing his arm and slowly assisting him until he was steadily back on his feet.

You shook off the pebbles and dust caught onto his suit jacket and pants. 'There, much better–'

'Don't!' He suddenly snapped, slapping your hand away.

You gasped, taking a step away. Though his face was covered, there was a deep anger in Mr Riley's eyes that you had never seen before. It almost frightened you.

Mr Riley froze, taking in your change of demeanour. With a sigh, he uttered so quietly you almost missed it, 'Please don't pity me Miss ... I don't need it.'

He pushed past you roughly, his loud footsteps quickly becoming distant against the pebbled walkway as he left you behind.

The day continued as usual except, you noticed very quickly, the distinct absence of Mr Riley for the rest of the day. You had overheard Mr Garrick say he had taken poorly and couldn't continue to work.

Like bees that had caught the honey, the staff buzzed excitedly with the sudden gossip of his possible resignation or firing. Though the staff had calmed down since his arrival, it didn't change their stance that he didn't deserve the job.

It made you furious. Why should a man who had been at the house for a few months be let go just because of a small mishap? Something that wasn't even his fault. Nothing even happened!

Soon drinks for the family were complete after their meal, and dinner was being served in the servant's hall, but there was still no sign of Mr Riley.

After nibbling at your meal and failing to work up an appetite yourself, you found a tray and dished up some stew and some hot bread that had been served.

'What are you doing love?' You looked up to see Mrs Patmore enter the kitchens, clearly having finished her dinner.

'Oh, I was just making up a plate for Mr Riley, him not being well enough to join us. You won't mind Ms Laswell?' You addressed the head housekeeper who had appeared behind Mrs Patmore.

She nodded with a smile, 'Of course, just this once. The poor man has been through enough in one day.'

With a nod, you finished piling up the tray before making your way carefully through the corridors of the attics where the servants lived in and at end of the corridor, a light shone from beneath a door.

Making your way over, you peeked into the room. Through the mirror that hung on the cupboard, you could see sitting on the bed there sat the shaking silhouette of Mr Riley, and in the quiet, the soft sobbing emitted from him.

You couldn't help but feel your heart break at the site. Taking a step back, you cleared your throat. 'Mr Riley? Are you there?'

A shuffle was heard from within the room, footsteps approaching before the door opened to reveal Mr Riley. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair dishevelled and his shoulders tense.

You gave him a reassuring smile. 'I brought some dinner up, in case you were hungry.'

Immediately he deflated at the sight of you, eyes softened as he took in the tray of food neatly placed. 'That's very kind Miss. Even after what I did to you earlier ... you are still so generous.'

'It's nothing really,' You placed the tray in his hands which he placed off to the side, looking back to you.

'But it's the very opposite of nothing. I-I really am sorry for this morning, that was very unkind of me Miss.'

'No need for apologies Mr Riley,' You said, trying to keep your voice steady, 'You've been wronged since you arrived here and I hate to see you like this. Please don't let them drag you down. You are so much stronger than they are.'

He sighed heavily, eyes shying away from yours, leaning against the door frame. 'I hate to admit it ... it's very humiliating. Couldn't stomach any more of it.'

You shook your head firmly, stepping closer to him. 'You shouldn't be made to feel that way. Be proud of being here, John–I mean ... Lord Price chose you to be here for a reason. You've earned your place and you shouldn't have to hide or be ashamed.'

Mr Riley looked down at you, his eyes finally meeting yours and scanning your face. He clearly could see the tears in your eyes and heard the tremble in your voice.

'Why do you do this Miss?'

You were stunned, almost at a loss for words. Couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes, a thousand words and emotions even in silence. So instead, stepping even closer, chest to chest with him, you carefully reached for his hand. You felt him stiffen beneath your gentle touch momentarily before he allowed you to clasp your hands with his.

'You don't deserve to be treated as such. I don't like to see it,' You said, looking up into his eyes.

Not wanting to encroach on him any longer, you slowly pulled away, unable to hold back a small smile when you felt Mr Riley hold tight to your hand just a little longer before letting it drop from his grip. 

The next morning the servant's hall was busy with the staff filing in, breakfast of hot porridge with honey and buttered toast was served by Daisy and Mrs Patmore.

As Mr Garrick sat down, allowing everyone else to follow suit, Mr Riley appeared at the entrance to the hall and you couldn't help but smile, ignoring the scowl of some of the other staff.

'Ah, Mr Riley!' Ms Laswell greeted as she passed on bowls of porridge down the table, 'Good to see you up and about!'

'Indeed Ms Laswell, can't keep me down too long,' He muttered, looking straight at you as he did.

'That's good to hear, come and get yourself some breakfast we have a busy day ahead of ourselves!'

He nodded, making his way around the table and taking a seat beside you. And as a bowl of porridge was placed in front of you, you felt the fleeting caress of his gloved hand across your own beneath the table.

Call of Duty Masterlist a/n: I'm on a roll I tell you! And I love writing for these two.

@lostintransist @teapartydreams

[engie-ivy]

949 words

Sirius Black is known as the office Grinch, so what has suddenly gotten into him?

You Make It Feel Like Christmas

You Make It Feel Like Christmas - Gwen Stefani

“You're delusional.”

“I'm not!”

“You must be.”

“No, I swear,” Benjy hisses.

“Well, maybe you misheard,” Hestia offers.

Benjy huffs. “You think I would not recognize ‘Jingle Bells’?”

Emmeline shakes her head. “Anything is more likely than Mr Black humming that song.”

“He was in front of me at the coffee machine,” Benjy says. “And I swear I heard him do it!”

You see, the reason why the mere idea of Sirius Black walking around the office humming ‘Jingle Bells’ is so preposterous, is because Sirius Black is known as the office Grinch.

The man dislikes everything that's even remotely related to Christmas.

When Mary and Dorcas were hanging the Christmas lights, Mr Black commented on energy savings for the office and the necessity of cutting down on the electricity bill. In his opinion, Christmas was a huge waste of energy in its entirety. No one actually knew if he was still talking about electricity.

When the first Christmas song was played on the radio, Mr Black pointedly put on his noise canceling headphones. Plus, he actually has no idea who Mariah Carey is, which is shocking in its own right.

When Edgar came to work wearing his Christmas jumper, Mr Black reported him for inappropriate work attire (though luckily Lily from HR simply told him to get over it).

Moreover, Mr Black constantly complains that Christmas Day is an obligatory day off, instead of him being able to save his vacation hours for, in his words, ‘when he actually needs them’.

He has also called Christmas markets a trick to sell junk no one needs, he's known to think that a gift certificate makes for the best Christmas gift, and that black coffee tastes better than any hot chocolate ever could.

“Okay, I'm actually getting really worried,” Caradoc whispers as they convene at the coffee machine.

“Me too,” Edgar replies in a concerned voice. “Maybe he's come down with some sort of illness?”

“Did you guys hear what he said when he saw the little Christmas tree on my desk?” Mary hisses. “He said it looked ‘nice’. Nice! No eye roll, no sarcastic undertone. Just nice.”

“I almost had a heart attack when I saw his tie this morning,” Emmeline says faintly. “I mean, tiny snowmen?”

Dorcas bites her lip. “Could it be some sort of brain disease?”

“Or maybe he hit his head and he has a concussion?” Benjy offers.

“Should we like… take him to the hospital or something?” Fabian asks.

“Gosh,” Hestia says. “Why are you all so negative? Maybe he just finally caught the Christmas spirit!”

“Excuse me?”

Everyone pauses their work to look at the man who appeared in the doorway to their office. He's got floppy, honey-coloured hair, is wearing a rather tattered coat and is carrying a box with a bow tied around it.

“I'm looking for-”

“Remus!” Mr Black jumps to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

A light colouring appears on the man's cheeks as he looks at Mr Black and he smiles a little sheepishly. “I hope I'm not disturbing you?”

Mr Black closes his laptop without giving it a second look. “Not at all! I can always make time,” says the man who once almost made Gideon cry because he dared ask him a question while he was in the middle of an Excel sheet.

“Great,” the box-carrying man, Remus, grins, and despite the scars on his face, it makes him look strangely endearing. “My mum and I baked Christmas cookies, and we, of course, made way too much for just us, so I thought I'd drop by your office to bring some?”

“That's so sweet of you!” Mr Black happily takes over the box. “I absolutely love Christmas cookies,” says Mr Black, who has never even touched any of the cookies Caradoc baked for the office.

“I see you're wearing the tie I gave you,” Remus says.

“Of course,” Mr Black replies. “It's my favourite.”

“That's good,” Remus smiles softly.

They both just look at each other for a moment, while the rest of the office exchanges looks.

Then Remus averts his eyes and looks down at his shoes. “You know, I was wondering…” He begins. “Would you like to go and look at the Christmas lights together tonight? It may sound cheesy, but they're actually really pretty and it's one of my favourite Christmas activities to-”

“I would love to!” Mr Black replies a little breathless. “I've been really wanting to go and see the lights.”

Mary makes an indignant sound, but both men hardly seem to notice there's anyone else in the room.

“Great!” Remus looks up and beams at Mr Black. “And I was thinking that maybe we could visit the Christmas market and drink some hot chocolate together?”

“I love the Christmas market,” Sirius replies without skipping a beat. “And I'd love to drink hot chocolate with you.”

“Good. Great. Perfect,” Remus says. “So, it's… it's a date?” The colouring on his cheeks increases.

"It's a date,” Mr Black agrees.

Both men stare at each other for a long moment, having completely forgotten there's a room full of people looking at them, people who start shifting uncomfortably in their chairs.

Remus is first to snap out of it. “I… I

I should let you get back to work.”

“Work,” Mr Black repeats, like he's trying to remember what the word means. “Right. Work.”

“See you tonight?” Remus asks.

“Can't wait,” Mr Black replies.

As Remus leaves and Mr Black turns back to the room, everyone immediately turns to their computer, pretending to be working.

Hestia exchanges a look with Emmeline.

Sirius Black definitely caught something alright, but it ain't Christmas spirit.

[himluv]

Something You Should Know

Here's the next chapter in my Rookanis fic, Say My Name (Say it Twice), in which Lucanis and Rook have a heart-to-heart after experiencing one of Solas's memories in the Crossroads.

Drawing a line between himself and Rook had been easy. Unpleasant, but easy. 

Feel nothing.

Maintaining that line was much, much harder, especially when she insisted on bringing him on every outing. Not that it was unreasonable to do so – he and Rook had found their own rhythm in combat that made them a formidable team. It also frequently left him breathless. 

Lucanis had partnered with other Crows over the years – mostly Illario and Viago – but they all had distinct, individual styles. Illario was the seducer, charming his way close to the mark so they never saw his blade coming. Viago preferred his poisons, carefully studying his targets so he could choose the right concoction for the job. His targets were often dead before they even knew there was a contract on their life. 

Lucanis was more physical. He had his blades – at least seven for any job – and his stealth. But, by the time he reached his mark, they knew death had come for them. He ensured it. And if he could guarantee the kill was quick and bloodless, he would. Snapping a neck was much more efficient than slicing a throat. 

Rook wasn’t an assassin, and her lack of training showed in her form. Her dagger work lacked finesse, but she made up for it with a startling relentlessness. She relied heavily on her spells and orb, her lightning overwhelming enemies to leave them vulnerable to his blades. And mierda, she was fast, running in close to finish off dazed opponents and blinking away in a crackle of electricity. 

That said, they needed to work on her parrying.

“Snipers!” He shouted as an undead mage raised its staff. A ball of light careened at Rook, who raised her blade too late. The missile hit her square in the chest, launching her backwards.

“Rook’s hit!” Lucanis leapt into the air and Spite’s wings carried him to dive at the undead mage. But, before he could finish it off, Rook was there, slashing her dagger in a wide arc to send the undead flying. 

“I think that’s all of them,” Bellara said. 

Rook nodded, panting with hands on her hips. 

“Everyone still alive?” He asked. 

Rook chuckled and winced. She rubbed at her chest before knocking back a potion.

Rook. Hurt?

She met his gaze and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said. 

He frowned. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

Lucanis didn’t know what she meant by that. Was his concern that obvious? Did Bellara notice it too? Or was Rook just being her usual, observant self?

“That was a hard hit, Rook,” Bellara said. “Maybe we should–”

“I’m fine, you guys.” She started off further down the trail, toward another shimmering gate. “Let’s see what the Dread Wolf’s hiding in this memory.”

Lucanis and Bellara shared a worried glance, then set off after her. 

Inside the memory, they saw not only Solas, but his general, too. And immediately Rook’s body language changed. She was stiff, spine rigid and shoulders high. Tense. Her eyes never left the general and the more Lucanis looked between them, the more he saw the resemblance.

Rook was paler, her hair lighter, but the slant of their noses and the planes of their cheeks were very similar. Lucanis knew next to nothing about elven vallaslin, but he’d wager good coin that the general’s face bore Mythal’s mark. 

But the most obvious, most convincing detail was the man’s violet eyes. The exact same shade that bordered Rook’s grey-blue irises. 

The vision of Solas and the man who might be her father dissolved and Rook wordlessly turned to continue their mission. Lucanis reached for her, but did not put his hand on her arm. 

“Rook?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, Lucanis.”

Doesn’t SOUND fine, Spite said. 

The demon was right. Rook sounded upset, shaken. Like she needed to be anywhere but there. But once they were inside a memory, the only way out was through.

“Let’s just get through this,” she said. 

He watched her for a moment, but she refused to meet his gaze. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”

She sighed, then set off at a jog for their next task in the Dread Wolf’s memory. He followed, but gave Rook plenty of space. Bellara walked beside him. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, voice low. “With Rook, I mean.”

No! Spite said, then took a deep breath, scenting the air. Rook is scared! And angryyyyy.

Lucanis kept his eyes on Rook. “She’s fine,” he said. 

“But–”

“Bellara.” Lucanis gave her a sharp look. 

She frowned at him. “She’s my friend, too.”

Friend? Spite hissed. NO. Rook is more!

Lucanis sighed. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Bellara scowled at him. “You know something, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I know a lot of things.”

“Lucanis.”

He stopped and turned to face the elf. “Right now, Rook needs us to focus,” he said. “You can ask her about it afterward.”

She gave him a stubborn look that promised she would. “Fine,” she said. “But we’re also going to talk about this.”

Lucanis grunted his assent. If questioning him would get Bellara to give Rook some space, that was fine with him. 

They jogged to catch up with Rook, just as another wave of Elgar’nan’s recruits materialized. The memories were easy to dispatch, almost surprisingly so. He wondered if the Dread Wolf’s spirits had really wreaked such havoc, or if that was merely how Solas remembered it. 

Chaos. Disruption. Over and over and over and over. Spite growled. Used them.

Lucanis did not like the sound of that. But, if Rook had any suspicions about the Dread Wolf’s motives, she kept them to herself. 

She was a flurry of blade and lightning, cutting through the memories with such focus that Lucanis knew something was wrong. Rook was usually chatty in combat, commenting to her companions as she bounded around the battlefield. But, since seeing Fen’Harel’s general, Rook had thrown herself into each fight as if they weren’t there. As if she was all alone.

Angry, Spite said. No talk. Doesn’t want. To talk. He growled. Wants. To. Stab!

Well, Lucanis could definitely relate to that. If that’s where Rook was at, he would meet her there. He kept his silence, only calling out when Rook or Bellara were in harm’s way, and made sure to cover Rook even more than he usually did.

Rook. Needs. Help?

He would never describe Rook’s fighting style as efficient, but in her rage she was much more likely to wear down quickly. If she should falter, Lucanis would be there to take up the slack. 

And so they fought through wave after wave, across the bridge and to Elgar’nan’s front door. Only then did Solas’s plan become clear – they'd been the distraction. 

All around them, the memory bled away to the present, color and sound returning to their usual vibrancy. Beside him, Rook trembled, her blade held tight in her fist. 

“He used them,” she said, her voice low and shaking. “He sent those spirits to their deaths.”

“He thought the cost was worth it,” Lucanis said.

She spun on him, fury on her face. “That’s bullshit!”

Lucanis didn’t flinch as she shouted. Didn’t raise his hands or try to soothe her. She’d vibrated with rage through that entire memory – if this was how she needed to release it, Lucanis would gladly take the brunt of her fury.

“You can’t just use people like that,” she said. “I won’t–” she stopped as her voice broke. 

Bellara stepped up to stand on Lucanis’s other side. “Rook?” She said, her voice soft with concern. “What’s going on?”

Rook covered her face with both hands and took several deep, steadying breaths. Then she shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Just… something Solas said makes a lot of sense now.” Rook opened her eyes, and the pain and confusion there made his heart clench.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said. He tried to inject some warmth into his voice, to convince her he was fine, but his concern for her made it fall flat.

“Rook…” Bellara said. 

She held up a hand to her friend. “I’m fine, Bellara. Really.”

Lying, Spite hissed. 

Lucanis thought that was pretty apparent to everyone present. “Let’s get back to the Lighthouse,” he said. 

Rook stooped to pick up the wolf statuette they’d recovered. “Great idea,” she said and headed back toward their eluvian. “Can’t wait to see what other terrible things he’s keeping from us.”

He’d expected to have to wait for Rook to seek him out after the others had gone to sleep. He’d even planned to call on her in her quarters if she avoided him for too long. She would need to talk about all that had happened today, whether she liked it or not. If it’d been his emotional outburst, he would do almost anything to pretend it never happened, so he was surprised when Rook joined him in the kitchen after dinner. 

She gave him a hesitant smile. “Want some help?”

Bellara had cooked, which meant Lucanis would clean up. “If you like,” he said. “There’s not much.”

She cast a glance around the kitchen, noting several pans, two cutting boards, and at least three different knives in need of washing, not including their plates and silverware still on the table. 

“Seems like a lot to me,” she said. 

He shrugged. “It keeps me busy.”

“You mean, it keeps you awake.”

Lucanis smirked at her. “That, too.”

“In that case,” she said, moving to stack their plates. “Will you make some fresh coffee?”

He chuckled at that. “I was going to do that anyway.”

“Of course you were.”

The fondness in her voice hit him like a shot of good Antivan brandy. He felt wam down to his toes. 

Flirting? Spite asked. 

At this point, Lucanis wasn’t sure the distinction mattered. After all they’d been through, he and Rook had reached a level of understanding that he could only think of as family. Whether her words were intended romantically or not, he found comfort in them all the same. 

There was quiet in the dining hall as Lucanis brewed coffee and Rook prepped the basin for washing. It was another of the Lighthouse’s oddities. Once they’d started cooking regularly, a basin with a fire rune engraved in the bottom appeared in the corner of the kitchen. It wasn’t as large or ornate as the one in Villa Dellamorte’s kitchen, but it did the job.

He poured the coffee, one for each of them in their matching cups, then joined her at the basin. “Here,” he said, handing her the cup. 

She took a sip and hummed. “I don’t understand how it’s so much better when you make it!”

Lucanis looked down at his coffee to hide his blush. “It just takes patience,” he said. “And practice.”

She snorted. “Neither of which I’m particularly good at.”

Lucanis laughed. “No,” he said. “You’re more of a wing-it type.”

She smiled at that. “It’s gotten us this far!”

“It has,” he ceded. He took another sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the shelf above the basin. “Come,” he said. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

She didn’t argue and they set to the task with surprising ease. Only a handful of dishes in, Rook began to hum. Lucanis didn’t stop washing, didn’t freeze or turn to look at for fear she might stop. So, he kept his head down, his hands busy, and just listened.

It only took a few notes to recognize one of the songs that the minstrels often played in Café Pietra. Lucanis was no musician, but he thought she sounded good. Her tone was full and clear, and he wondered if it would carry over into her voice. 

Spite perched on the counter nearest Rook, each dry plate phasing through him as she set them down. 

Rook sings? The demon asked. 

Lucanis said nothing. He would not interrupt this moment for anything. He was standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with Rook while they cleaned up after dinner. There was fresh coffee and she was humming a song from one of his favorite places back home. 

It was the most peaceful moment of Lucanis’s life.

“Lucanis?” She asked as he handed her another plate. 

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t asked about what happened today.”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d talk when you were ready.”

“Oh,” she said. She dried the plate with her towel, then stacked it with the others. 

Spite inhaled as she momentarily faced him. Angry, he hissed. And sad.

“It was him,” she said. 

“You’re sure?”

“You saw him.” She shook her head. “A mage with Mythal’s vallaslin.”

Lucanis nodded, but kept his eyes on the water as he set to scrubbing one of the pans. “There was a resemblance.”

She spun to face him. “You think?” In that moment, her face shone with so much hope that Lucanis thought his heart might burst. 

“Yes,” he said. He stopped scrubbing and took the towel from her to dry his hands. He willed them to be steady as he continued. “Your cheekbones and noses are the same.”

She watched him with wide shimmering eyes as he raised one hand over her face, his index finger tracing a line across her cheeks and then down her nose. He did not touch her, but the electricity between her skin and his was almost as good as if he had. 

“But more than anything,” he continued, “it was the eyes that gave it away.” He looked her in the eye and let all the weeks of confusion and want, of fear and hope, well up inside him. “You inherited some of his color, I think.” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper. 

Rook’s gaze darted around his face, shimmering and hopeful, her pupils blown wide. Then her gaze dropped down to his mouth and she licked her lips. 

The sight jolted Lucanis, his body reacting so viscerally he blinked with shock. 

Waaaaaaant. 

What was he thinking? Hadn’t he just resolved to draw a line between them? To keep things professional? She needed an assassin, perhaps a friend. Not… whatever this was. 

He turned back to the dishes, cursing himself for being so weak once again. 

“Lucanis?” Her voice was small, as if she were afraid she might upset him. 

“You were right,” he said. “About the notes and being Fen’Harel’s general.”

There was silence for a moment, stillness too as Rook watched him. Then she sighed and got back to drying the pan he handed her. 

“Yeah,” she said, eventually. “But I still don’t know what happened to him.”

He frowned. “If he’s in Solas’s memories, in his regrets…” he winced. 

Rook sighed again. “Then probably nothing good.”

“I’m sorry, Rook,” he said. 

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Lucanis.”

He frowned at her. “For what?”

“For today. How I reacted.” She looked very pointedly at the knife she was drying. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Lucanis snorted. “I’ve dealt with worse,” he said. 

“I know,” she said. Her voice was so fragile it stopped him mid-scrub. She waited for him to look at her before she continued speaking. “I know,” she repeated. “And I never want to add to your pain.”

The conviction in her voice rooted him in place. He could not look away from her, could not move as she reached out and put her hand on his arm. Mierda, she was so warm! He wanted her to envelop him in that warmth, to hold him close and promise him nothing but soft, sweet things. 

But what he wanted for himself and what he wanted for her were two very different things. She deserved more than what he could give. So, he took a step back and returned to washing the last of the dishes. 

“Thank you, Rook,” he said. “I can finish the rest.”

NO! Spite howled. No! Hurt Rook? Hurt. US!

For a long moment, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then she sighed and started putting away the dishes. They worked in not-quite-easy silence until the kitchen was pristine. Until both their cups were empty, washed, and hanging from their rack above the percolator. 

Lucanis watched Rook hang her damp towel over the edge of the now-empty wash basin. He leaned against the stove, arms and ankles crossed, and waited for whatever she was about to say. He expected her to be angry – how many mixed signals could he send before she just gave up? – but when she spoke her voice was calm and sure. 

“There’s something you should know about me, Lucanis.”

Something in her tone made his pulse race, that increasingly familiar, delicious heat rolling through him. “And what’s that, Rook?”

She turned to face him and pinned him with the intensity of her gaze. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

Not that long ago, Lucanis might have thought she was simply talking about the dishes, but he’d learned a lot about Rook in the last couple of months. Enough to know she wasn’t talking about the household chores. 

He held her gaze, awash in her determination and her certainty. It buoyed him to know someone as breathtaking as her could look at him like that. “Well, then,” he said. “We have that in common.” 

It was a stupid thing to say. Bold and confident when he felt neither. It sounded like something from one of his romance novels – completely ridiculous. 

But it was true.

He stood up and nodded once at her. “Goodnight, Rook.”

She watched him, her face flushed and brow furrowed. “Goodnight, Lucanis.”

Then he turned his back to her and returned to the safety of the pantry. It was going to be a long, torturous night of replaying the evening over and over again in his mind. A long, wonderfully torturous night. 

[kinardsevan]

What do you think are the chances of Buck and Tommy getting back together at some point??

I have answered this, here. It's long-winded with specific references as to why I feel the way I do.

If you want specific odds? I still stand by my "I don't have hope, I'm hopeful" statement. I don't trust the writers, but the part of me that understands writing a story and how television works (and hello breaking up in the middle of a season that isn't a midseason finale? pfft.), that part of me feels that we're in the middle of the ride. I also contend with the fact that if this breakup hadn't come out of left field during election week, we wouldn't have reacted as wildly as we did. we put so much weight into those interviews at the time, specifically towards the one that OS and TM did together, and then the one that LFJr did, and so much on the way Fangirlish phrased things. But as I've commented on over and over, OS and LFJr can't tell us where things are going, and TM won't. One, because it wouldn't serve the story, and two, what's the fun in that? Of course they want us guessing so we'll keep watching.

Now, so much weight gets put into Tim's words about how he doesn't know what's happening in the show more than a few weeks in advance, but we also know that they have general ~ideas of character arcs, at least for the part of the season they're working on. To that end, I maintain my contention that you're not breaking them up and telling LFJr "yeah sorry we might bring you back but maybe not, we'll see". That man broke them up knowing whether or not he wanted for him to return in the spring. He may not know how the story is going to be told quite yet, but he at least knows yes or no. Moreover, if the story was well and truly over, we're not getting mentions of Tommy in 807 and 808, and Buck still hung up on him. It doesn't feed the narrative, once again. If you want Tommy done/dead/in the past, you don't continue to suggest the characters are thinking about one another. You can do Buck being sad about the breakup without that kind of storytelling (i.e., season 2 with Abby's exit).

Once again, though, I want to reference every break up that has lasted on OG: BuckAbby-110. BuckTaylor: 518. BuckNatalia: (off screen but effectively) 618/701. EddieAna: 501. EddieMarisol & EddieKim: 710 By correlation, Madney's breakups were midseason and didn't stay broken up. Bathena never really "broke up" for any period of time, but they did have their struggles... oh when? The middle of the season. The only other "break ups" you can refer to within the context of the show is Doug and Shannon's deaths, which yes were in the middle of the seasons, but they were serving the narratives (and also TM regrets killing both off as soon as he did so....). We've also seen TM pull some of these midseason breakups on LS, only to not have them last. He did an offscreen split with Tarlos that was wrapped up by the end of that season opener.

Even without all of that evidence though (I really just piece it together so y'all can follow my line of logic), at the end of the day, what I'm looking at is a story being told and figuring out how you make the right moves. Maybe LFJr was only intended to tell a small story, but you know what you don't do when a character is embraced by the audience? Send them off into the sunset because you couldn't forge a better plot for them. You go back to the drawing board and figure out how to expand their story. Shows have done it for ages, and I refuse to believe that ABC saw the reaction of people to LFJr and said "get rid of him".

At the end of the day, I stay with the fact that they have to get back together because, narratively, it's what makes the most sense with the information we've been given. I think it's messy to ask people to wait 6 months for that payoff, but I also grew up in a time when streaming wasn't the norm and we didn't wait full calendar years for TV shows to release a new season. I don't put a lot of weight in the weekly interviews at this point because it feels like they're now using those instead of real 30sec. promos the way it used to be. Granted, you can argue that they unintentionally found Buck's endgame "too early" for their own liking.... but then why have him be with someone who calls him by his first name when most people in his life don't? Why suggest that Evan sees a future with Tommy in a way that we understand as an audience isn't starry-eyed like the breakup scene portrays, but is actually out of something real (as the dispatch scene suggests)? Why EVER have Buck suggest something like marriage (which he never has, even about Abby) if we're not circling back to it?

Many have stated that these are ways to just twist the knife, make it hurt more, and I can't negate that or tell you they're wrong. Even if everything I suggest ends up being right, I still can't make the argument that some of those storytelling choices weren't just to make the breakup hurt more. At the end of the day, though, my hope is that at least some of it was done in service of the narrative instead of just callousness.

Anyway. I've rambled again, and I'm sorta not sorry about it. I hope this at least answers your question though 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[pastorfutureletthembe]

"The show is about to start."

One more mention of being a spectator, an observer. The idea of the Manipulator implies that he doesn't get his hands dirty, he

And this time Liu Xiao has a flower bouquet, implying he intends to meet his favorite performer (Lu Guang).

Spiderworts symbolize enduring love, just like Myositis, but also immortality and moral authority. Its other names are Widow’s Tears and False Dayflower.

Interesting.

The former, reminds us of the black widow of course. This name is related to the female's bad habit of eating the male after mating. Cannibalism, you say? x) Why does it do it? Nutrition, of course. It enhances reproductive success. So it's only natural behavior, survival instincts. With the spider imagery comes the spiderweb metaphor, which is always efficient to express manipulation and hunt/prey relationship.

The later forces us to ask, what do you mean false? Dayflower is an actual flower, by the way, meaning reliability and trustworthiness. 👀 Coincidence that Liu Xiao's flower basically implies that he isn't reliable and trustworthy? I don't think so 😂 It also is a call back to the Devil tarot card meta I did last week saying he represents the antichrist, the one you choose to put your trust into for salvation but who's actually bringing you closer to your demise.

Apparently, in victorian floriography language, a man gifts spiderworts to another man to express esteem (X). Liu Xiao wants to make his feelings known, finally, and he's using flowers to do it. I feel like he has a very parasocial relationship with Lu Guang, though. He's pining hard, but Lu Guang never appears to be aware of him. Even in "The Eye", he's looking at the window while Liu Xiao is reading the same poem over and over again. This Shakespeare poem which, as mentioned in a previous meta, is about two lovers who must be separated for survival reasons. Waiting patiently for the end of the representation to make his presence/existence known hints on his penchant for theatrics as well.

All of this info is cool and all but what does it mean?

I truly believe that Liu Xiao is in awe of Lu Guang, might it be because of his abilities (and the creative way he might use them to save Cheng Xiaoshi), his achievements (that we barely know about) or his objective/motivation. Think of it like a scientist who bases his own research on his peer's work. Liu Xiao could very much be the mad scientist type, though lmao.

The fact Lu Guang's chess piece is a white Knight but Liu Xiao is kissing the black Knight in his PV? He's either delusional, thinking Lu Guang and he are the same, or he knows all of Lu Guang's dark secrets. As a stalker does, you know.

[dis-astre]

BREAKDOWN OF LES MISÉRABLES IN FRANCE : ACT I

- they use the almost same costumes as the west end which... great bc sometimes france tends to make....... weird choices concerning their costume department for musical shows

- lots of projections for the decor, the set was very sleek, but they used it well

- javert was on point, props to the actor honestly he was one of the best thing of the show

- the actors in general were hitting those notes like craaaaazy, they were all so good

- the thenardier got me laughing uncontrollably, they were perfect and master of the house was *chief kiss*, people dancing on the tables, a lot of things were going on in the background which added to the chaos which was perfect

- master of the house is disgustingly perfect in french

- they were little kids in the audience and i don't think the parents were rlly aware of the show bc... well first the language is rlly crude (even more than the last french version), and they have sex on stage at some point in lovely ladies???? (honestly don't remember if this was in the west end version circa 2019 pls if u know enlighten me)

- the kids playing eponine, cosette and gavroche were so great they got a standing ovation and all

- for the confrontation, javert has a rifle and they basically play hide and seek like valjean hides from javert in the hospital and javert hunt him and the nurses are trying to help valjean (at some point one hides the gun under the bed of a patient and it's was funny)

- THEY MADE MONTPARNASSE SO GAY?????? LIKE????? bro was this big tall twink behaving like 💅💅🌈✨✨💃💅🌈���✨✨💅 guuuuuurl, he was so coquette i stg, so that was fun

- les amis were >>> amazing, loved them sm ! it was really less gay and enjoltaire than the english production and overall the choices made were real different from what i had seen before and i loved that; i think it comes from the fact that french ppl tend to stay more "true" to the original work especially with such an important book as Les Mis but i'll explain myself more in act II

- in the beginning of abc cafe, R is drinking from a bottle and Enj just casually pass by him and grab the bottle before physically sitting him down

- R proceeded to try and grab the bottle from everyone and they were all exchanging the bottle to get it away from him

- he also was ALWAYS talking and laughing with les amis and making jokes like trying to shake hands with one of them and then retracting his hand last moment, childish plays and so cute to watch them laugh and interact like that

- when enjolras started talking, R stopped everything and put his chin in his hands and started looking at him with stars in his eyes and the biggest smile (he was so hot pls help) and that was so cute

- "marius you're late" was said in the most annoyed french tone and i love it

- after R verse and "it is better than an opera", everyone was clapping and enjolras was sulking in a corner, and one of the amis (presumably combeferre) went "OH SHUSH" in the most Dad Voice ever to shut everyone up and proceed to motion to enjolras to come back and talk

- R casually jumping on chairs

- R never got his bottle back so he proceed to open a book, read it and tried to show everyone what he was reading and talked about the book; and idk i loved that yes show how much of a yapper and actually a smart man my guy is

- i finally got to hear what they say for the "general lamarque is dead" part bc it's never on any album and it's really so close to the english version, except instead of saying to R "do we have the guns we need?", enj say something along the line of "R put the bottle down and chose a weapon" and R goes basically like "oh no needs my breathe will kill two in one blow" so pretty close to the english verse and i love it

- do you hear the people sing was amazing with the new lyrics

- they changed a lyric in one day more and i'm so SO glad they did bc i HATED it, so basically in french we have "you" meaning "tu/toi" as like a singular individual or you say "tu/toi" to a close person; and "you" as "vous" as like more than one person or you say "vous" to someone you don't know/respect. and in the original version for "my place is here, i fight with you" marius say "ma place est là, auprès de toi" and now he says "auprès de vous" and that's SO MUCH BETTER bc the original lyric is like... who tf is "toi" bc it's not a plural so is it cosette ?? which is inaccurate, or is it enjolras ?? which doesn't make any sense at all bc he fight with all of les amis, not just one ??????? so yeah, one of the best lyric change they've made

anyway here's some pro shots and i'll make a part II later for act II byeeee

[icarusredwings]

Welcome to Tonys Pizza

Tonys is used to having heros (and likewise) frequent their joint. Mr. Laufeyson want a pie? Got it. Peter want a slice? A comin right up. Hell! A cocker spaniel and a mutt wanna kiss out back over a meta balla? Fuck it. This is new york! As long as dem dogs aint from jersey.

But one of their longest, and possibly weirdest customers is- you guessed it. Wade.

Here at Tonys we got one saying. You make miya mama cry? You getta slap with da pie. Unfortunately this was true until a lawsuit in '17.

But the point still stands.

So one day, when their friend comes with a bit of extra peperoni on him? Who are they to judge? However, They DO heavily judge the fact that he just ordered a large supreme minus everything except the olives and pineapple.

"What!?? Wade you're gonna make me ma cry!" Tony jr (Tony, being his father, who tragically passed when a group of fellas thought 'pizza' was code for dope and not actual pizza) yells, throwing his hands up.

"I know, I know, but you did it for me last time!"

"Last time, my father also kept pineapples just for you in the fridge! Can't be doing that anymore, bad for business."

"Oh but the rat manning the brick oven isn't?"

"Wha!- Who told you bout- cha know what? Fine. Fine!! Aye Vinny! Our pal Wade here wants the usual!"

"WHAT!?" Came from the kitchen before a man comes out, a long rat tail in the back under his hat. You can take this literally or metaphorically.

I don't care. Im just tellin this story not writing it.

"You want me a go buy a whole pineapple just for one pizza!?"

"Yes."

He sighs, loudly taking off his apron and slammed it on the counter, muttering under his breath. "Why always the crazy ones? Move to new york ma said. Its good buisness ma said. ALWAYS the crazy ones!"

"Love ya vinnnyyy~" Wade cooes, watching him leave. Just as he does, The bell rings again. He leans on the counter with a happy grin.

"Welcome to Tonys! Ya make my mama a- c-Cry?!"

"What's taking so long?" Logan grumbles, having just wanted to go home already.

"You're the wolverine.. ThEE wolverine! Aha!! I need to call my mom! She's not gonna believe this! The Wolverine is in OUR shop!!"

Wade giggles, watching as Logan tilts his head at the attention. "Whats with him?"

"You're the Wolverine, bucko. That's a big deal around this place. Now, what do you want on your pizza, big boy?"

".. they do chorizo?"

"Mhmmm~ why? In the mood for some sausage?" Wade teases, smirking more as he coud hear Tony on the phone in the back.

"Ma! Its him! Its really him! Yeah- no, Im lookin at him!"

"....people like you Logan." Wade smiles to him, seeing him frown. "..They like the old Logan.. they think im him."

Wade's toothy grin expands, standing and leaning against him. "With all due respect, Loagie? You're nothing like him. And I love that."

"Hm."

_____

"Alright thank you guys!"

"No problemo, extra pepperoni!" Tony calls, smilin because his tip jar was now full.

"What the fuck did he just call you?" Logan turns. It wasn't hard to tell he was nicknamed this after his skin.

Putting a hand on his forearm, Wade giggles. "Easy tiger. It's an inside joke. When I first came back- like this" he gestures to his face" I asked them for extra pepperoni. They asked how much, and I said as much as I got on my face. Ever since he's called me extra pepperoni. Hey why do you get to be "super cool wolverine" and im just extra pep?"

Logan shrugs, taking the pizza box as he looks at the label, stopping on a fairly not busy side walk a few houses from the apparentment.

"Wait a sec... Wade.. you did tell them one of these were mine right?"

"Huh? What do you mean? I.. I thought I did?"

Opening the boxes, there stood two perfect pinapple olive, chorizo pies. Steaming and ready to be devoured.

The label on the receipt said "Poolverine special"

Logan cringes. "You put pineapple on our pizza??"

But Wade gasps, eyes lighting up. "Sweet salty AND spicy!! Logan, you're a genius!!"

Lets just say.. Wade picked off all the pineapple from Logan's half of the pizza, and he definitely would be returning for more poolverine specials..

Inspired by @sirwadewilsonfromimgur

Enjoy your very stereotypical ficlet

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 11

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I am going on a little vacay and I'll probably won't be able to update it as regurlarly, but I'm going to try and schedule this chapter and another one. Good news is more time to write :D

A.N. 2: Apparently the tags have not been wroking. If you asked to be tagged and haven't been, let me know!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

It was the morning of the day after Viktor had come to the penthouse and taken a twelve-hour power nap. 

You walked into the kitchen with a yawn that stopped abruptly when you saw the three people in the room. Two of its usual occupants: your mother, Wyllah, but also a very tired Jayce. Your eyes shifted between your mother and the tanned man on the table, hunching sheepishly as he sipped from a mug filled with coffee to the brim.

“Jayce?” Your tone is a mix between a welcome and a question, not even bothering to call him by his title.

He mumbled his reply, and you looked back at your mother and Wyllah. They both gave a sad smile and a shrug.

“You left the lab.” You began, trying to get him to talk, and he nodded. 

His hair was unkempt, and his beard was starting to emerge, meaning he probably had not even been home yet.

“I needed to find Viktor.” He said, not looking up from the mug. “Your mother found me halfway out of the Academy.”

“I left one of my security guards at the lab door,” Wyllah explained proudly. “No one is getting in unless we say so.”

“Thank you.” Jayce said, still looking at his reflection.

“Did you two argue?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Viktor would have never just walked out of the lab, leaving his best friend behind, and Jayce wouldn’t look half as dejected if they had parted ways amicably. Although Viktor had probably already gotten over the argument, Jayce liked to mull over it. 

“How…?” he asked. “Wild guess…” you answered.

He sighed, putting his head on his head, finger digging into his unkempt hair.

“What was it about?” You inquired, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, even though you could also guess the subject.

“What do you think?” He snapped, and you sat down in front of him at the booth, grabbing a cookie from the plate one of the older women had placed on the table.

“The great mystery of Runeterra.” You grinned, and he just stared at you, eyes narrowed. “I know it was about the council shenanigans, but what was it specifically about? Gods know you two can fight about a fleck of dust in the window.”

Jayce looked at you and was about to retort but closed his mouth and looked at his coffee before sighing and reopening his mouth.

“I told him I want to give the Hextech freely to the council in exchange for keeping us there as engineers for it, no matter what. I would rather be there to stop them from screwing up than have it destroyed or sold to someone else.” He sighed. “Viktor would rather grab everything and run as far as he can to keep it safe.”

You smiled softly at him gently and touched his white-knuckled hand on the mug. He relaxed his grip and looked at you.

“You can both be right, you know.” “I know, but it’s not that I want to be right… It’s just…” he scoffed, frustrated, looking at the window. “He has stood up for so long, taken so many beatings from topside, kept a straight face throughout everything we’ve ever been through; he has made his mark in this world whether he signs on it or not… And now he wants to run? It feels like a step backward.”

“You both know what hunger feels like, what a wind so cold that seeps through your clothes feels like in your bones. You both know how it is to have nothing and then have everything.” Jayce looked at you both confused and interested. “The difference is Tallis; he knows what happens when you just wait and watch. You get eaten by the big fish eventually. He stood up so many other times because he knew you’d have his back. But right now both your backs are against the wall, and there will be no sorcerer to help you escape the storm.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Jayce searched your eyes for answers all the while trying to assimilate what you said about Viktor.

“How…?” He asked again. “Your past and my present aren’t that different.” 

His eyes widened for a second, and he was about to start talking again when you shook your head.

“Discussion for another time and place.” 

He nodded, still reeling but quieted down when the telltale sounds of a cane making its way to the kitchen were heard.

“What do I say?” “Nothing…” you whispered back. “He is your friend Jay. He understands the same way you do…deep down…”

Viktor was also stifling a yawn as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping mid-stride just as you did when he saw the other man in the kitchen. 

“Jayce?” He puzzled, eyes still blinking the sleep away. “Hey, buddy! You got me worried there for a second.” Jayce got up from the table and walked towards him, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen…I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times and gave him a nod and a smile.

“Do not worry, Jayce. I understand.” He patted the bigger man’s arm and limped to the small breakfast nook, where you sat.

“Thank you, Madame Rainemour, for the hospitality.” He smiled at your mother, and she smiled back. “I don’t think I had any say in it this time, but you're welcome, my dear.”

He shifted his eyes to you, and you shrugged.

“You looked like exhaustion and tiredness had a child and left it out in the rain.” You paused and raised an eyebrow, conveying you were joking. “No offense…”

“None taken.” He smirked and grabbed a cookie from the plate.

“Well,” your mother clapped, and everyone’s eyes turned to her, you noticing a small grin on Wyllah’s face. “Since everyone is now sort of awake and looking less dejected…I have a plan…” “A plan?” Jayce asked, leaning against the door frame. “A plan.” Wyllah repeated. “Should I be scared?” Viktor asked, and both older women shook their heads in sync. “That makes me scared.” “Alright, you two... out with it...” You motioned with your head for the ladies to sit and talk.

Your mother started to explain what she had been doing yesterday after she left you and Viktor. Esther had put on her detective’s hat and gone to investigate the ins and outs of whatever was happening with the Hextech vs. Council situation.

She found that the council was going to make the decision to take control of Talis Lab and Hextech in a week or so, with Councilor Salo spearheading the efforts, being the one that seemingly had lost more in the rocket attack.

He had announced to all of those who wanted to hear him about the dangers of the usage of hextech by those who wanted the worst for Piltover. The topsiders had clutched their pearls and agreed he was right and that the council, the voice of all citizens of Piltover, needed to seize control of the tech.

Jayce bonked his forehead on the door frame where he was leaning, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to see the beauty of him as a stain on the hex gate’s floor…” you mumbled, munching on a cookie. Viktor looked at you questioningly, and you shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do not despair, my dears; as I’ve noted, I have a plan.”

Between her and Wyllah, the plan was laid out in front of the three of you. Your mother would rally up all of the investors and get them to stop the tech from falling into the council’s hands. It seemed simple and very straightforward, but knowing the Topsiders, there will be money exchange and drama and fights. Something your mother seemed very willing to do.

Both of the scientists had nodded in agreement to whatever your mother had put on the table, and you realized how much trust they all had in each other. The universe had to find a way to make up for you not being here. It had put your mother in their path so they could have her instead of you. It hurt as much as it elated you. 

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Viktor asked, breaking a cookie in half. “Well, we will need Jayce’s assistance.” Esther pointed at the broader man. “His place as a councillor and one part of the Hextech team will help us get to certain people. But I don’t think that would be your cup of tea, so you can keep securing the lab and the projects, making sure nothing ends up being shown to prying eyes.” “Are they allowing us to work?” Viktor asked Jayce. “No. No hextech projects are allowed to go forth.” Both men sighed. “I’ll stay in the lab with Viktor. I don’t want to get mixed up in that crowd again…” “Again?” Jayce raised his eyebrows, and you matched the expression.

After a while of discussing and more planning, between calculation and scheduling, your head was about to burst, so you excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked to the living room. You sat on the chair that wasn’t Viktor’s favorite place on earth and, drowning out the noise from the kitchen, felt the sunshine on your face.

You jumped at Jayce’s voice calling your name right next to you.

“Holy blue balls of Hextech.” You mumbled, putting your hands on your heart and leaning back on the chair. “Oh, so that’s where it comes from…” Jayce joked. “Sorry…” “Don’t worry about it.” You looked up at him, leaning your elbows into your knees.

“About that thing you said before.” Jayce took a deep breath. “I never told that to anyone but Viktor, and I know he would never tell anyone…” “Like I said, your past is my present. I was snapped here the same way you were.” “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’m as smart as the other co-creator of Hextech, believe it or not.” He grinned. “How? I have searched and researched high and low to figure out why it happened to me, and I never found the answers. Did he appear to you too? The mage? Did some runes in the sky and…new place, new you?”

You shook your head and looked at your hands. He was taking this considerably well, which made sense since he had also lived through something similar.

“I don’t know how it happened; I was there one second and here the next.” “That’s why you ran to the council room; you did know what was gonna happen.” He frowned, his eyes searching the air for connections. “Were you in the council room? Or in the Undercity?”

“I was in the lab when it happened. All was quiet, and then…boom…”  “What changed?” Jayce asked, and you shook your head. “I’m not going to tell you. Not all of the details. You…from there…lived it…you felt it…If I tell you, it might make you do something that would lead to the same path, and…I can’t go through that again.”

He nodded, understanding that the addition of knowledge to a situation can drastically change the outcome. You looked at his wrist, the leather band secured tightly around it and the teardrop-shaped gem encased in it. Stretching your arm, you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. The rune was different. 

Jayce also grabbed your hand and turned it palm up. A different rune was carved there, not glowing since you had spent most of the night remaking the star rune in case Viktor woke up. You looked up at him and sighed, his eyes searching for answers.

“I think the technical term is Rune Speaker…” You smiled at him, finding amazement in his eyes.

• ············ •

It didn’t take the group long to have a sort of guarding schedule around keeping the stuff in the lab from prying eyes. Because it was involved in council business, the boys couldn’t work there, but they refused to leave anything unsupervised. And that’s why they had looked like exhaustion itself.

Between the two of them, yourself and some of Wyllah's personal security, it was manageable, although Salo had shaken his fist at having the unknown guards at the door. To which your mother promptly told him she had more money invested in that lab than he could count; she was merely securing her investment.

Your endeavor to enter the orchestra was still in full swing, so you took the time at the lab to write out some of the music you were composing. You had an outline of the piece, but it needed tweaking and cleaning up.

You were not a composer. You hated writing your music. It felt strained. You’d rather just sit at the piano and play something from the top of your head. You were good at that. This was hell for you.

Groaning, you laid your forehead on the cold lab table and groaned. A hand patted your arm, and instinctively you jumped back as far as you could.

“Eh. It’s just me, good old Viktor.” the scientist announced, limping around you and placing a cup of tea and something wrapped in a cloth on the table. “One of those days, huh?”

He sat down next to you and peered at what you were doing. 

“Looks complicated.” He said, taking a book out of his shoulder bag, and you look at him sideways, glaring at the man. You pointed to the chalkboard that now has a sheet covering it and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen what you do…” you mumbled. “Numbers. I crunch numbers. Calculation and variants. It’s easy. I see them in my mind. Some are more complicated than others, but… It’s easy. This…?” He touched the clean sheet of music and made a negative sound with his throat. “Cannot comprehend.”

“Remind me to teach you the scale at some point. My mother is catching on pretty quickly. I fear she might get the position faster than me.” “Position?”  “I’m trying for the orchestra. I’ve learned that being a stay-at-home Piltie is not for me.” “Piltie?” He frowned at the nickname the Zaunites gave the topsiders. “How very uncivilized of you.” 

You both chuckled at his joke, and he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manner. He mentioned the wrapped thing with his chin, and you grabbed it. A small little cake was inside. A round little creamy thing with a slice of strawberry on top.

“Don’t expect much.” He said, opening his book. “It’s from the Academy’s cafe.”

You took a bite out of it. It was a little dry, but it was sugar, and you welcomed the feeling of something sweet in these desperate times.

“Where's Jayce?” You asked after you finished with the pastry. “I thought he was supposed to come with you.”

Viktor took a sip of his cup of tea and shook his head, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Councilor Medarda asked to see him.” He scoffed. “Confraternizing with the enemy, more like it.” “Spending time with his significant other.” you corrected, smiling when he made a ‘yeah yeah’ face.

Silent took over the lab while the two of you both got entranced by your tasks; only the scratching of pens on paper was heard. It was a friendly silence, with both of you sitting close enough that your knees would bump occasionally. Sometimes you would hum the melody you were writing, and he would stop writing to listen to it.

After a while Viktor stretched, moving his arms up to the ceiling. You looked at him and mimicked the movement but stretched your arms in front of you. The two loud ‘aahs’ of pleasure came from both of you in sync, making you both snort.

“I have been thinking…” Viktor began relaxing on the table, his shoulder hunching over. “The other day, you kept having to remake the rune.”

“You noticed?” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping.” “I caught you once or twice. It was a nice gesture, so I kept quiet. In any case, you had to keep redoing it. And well, we have had the same problem with the cores.”

“Vik…” you warned, but he raised his hand, stopping you.

“I know, but technically I am not using your magic for Hextech; I’m using Hextech for your magic. We solved that problem by introducing an artificial rune to the process.” He drew two squares touching on one corner, a crude infinity symbol. “That sustains the power of the core indefinitely. If we work at this the same way we work with Hexcore, your rune ‘push’ simply means you have no other inputs to add to it, and that means that inputs can be added.”

You remembered the rune circle in the council chambers. Going by what Viktor was saying, it made sense; the magic didn’t happen until you had pushed it forward, waiting until you finished the whole rune circle to work and slamming your hand on it to work.

“Could work, but if you tell it to keep going indefinitely, how do we stop it?“ You looked back at him and saw him scratch his neck.

“Usually we have buttons and dials…sometimes an emergency lever.”He placed his head on his hands and looked around for inspiration to strike.

You looked down at your music sheet and rolled your eyes. The answer was right in front of you. You slid the music sheet towards him.

“When you want to bring your composition to an end, you add this…” You pointed to a circle enclosing a crosshair.

“The runes are a language, and languages are fluid. New words are being introduced every day. We can keep adding to it until it works…” Viktor continued excitedly. “We have to test this theory.”

“I’m not going to test something that has a possibility of permanently staying in your lab. I don’t think a never-ending whirlwind is very discreet.” 

His shoulders slumped for a second, and then he pointed to a small door next to the front door. That was a cleaning supply room spacious enough for the janitor to keep his cart there, but it was closed off so that if something were to happen in there, it would be contained.

“Alright…Let’s test this out.” You rolled the stool away from the table and slapped your hands on your thighs, watching Viktor move with efficiency.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr

[myechoecho]

When the Phone Rings, ep 7

Nothing like getting shoved off a cliff to dramatically change your relationship with your spouse. This episode was so good.

We all knew he was going to find her and stay by her side. Hee Joo realizes just how much Sa Eon has always noticed her and listened to her. She finally speaks to him and it's to tell him not to go, which stuns and overwhelms him. All he can do is stay, when really he should probably get a doctor.

(also nothing like getting shoved off what looks to be a very high cliff and have only a few scratches to show for it)

I do find it a bit ridiculous that Hee Joo hasn't figured out that Sa Eon knows she's 406 but I suspect this is a parallel to Sa Eon taking so long to connect it. They are both blinded by emotions.

I love how Sa Eon picks her up to put her back in her bed but is hesitant to let go of her. He does tell her that he knew she could talk but not that she's 406. When she tries to talk she stops her so she can rest.

But later in the episode he gently pushes her to talk. He does not want her to go back into a world of silence. However, it's also funny to that while he wants her to talk, he also doesn't quite know what to do with her talking back in real life (her saying the grapes were not washed). He only knows how to deal with sassy Hee Joo when she is 406. I do like how her talking to him is a bit stilted and awkward, which makes sense since he's basically the only person she's talked to in 20 years who can reply back.

The hair washing scene was everything. And he dried and brushed it too! It's such an intimate thing to do and I wonder why more dramas don't do this. Also LOL at Hee Joo immediately thinking he was showering when she heard the water and then being flustered by the thought of him showering.

They go back to their weird phone flirting (they WILL have kinky phone sex everything is done) but Sa Eon doesn't let her come clean. Instead he gets her to help him bring down who is behind the phone by getting a description of the man who kidnapped her.

As much as I enjoyed Sa Eon breaking through the door to "save" Hee Joo and Hee Joo hugging him and holding on to him tightly, I never in my life have seen a hospital room door that had a lock. I did adore them cuddling in the bed together.

The scene where Sa Eon reveals he knew she was 406 was so good. "tell me how to hate you. Tell me how not to love you" had me screaming. And then the kiss was also spot on. This was not a simple peck. This kiss was 3 years worth (well probably more ) of pent up feelings and emotion all tumbling out at once from both of them. A++

Random thoughts:

Sa Eon father is trash. And also incompetent. At the bare minimum he should have learned the identity of who fell off the cliff. He really does not think he can win without Sa Eon

We see a bit of Sa Eon's past with his "family". Why even have the food her son does not eat on the table if not to be deliberately cruel and force him to eat what he does like? Same with the clothes. No wonder Sa Eon is a bit messed up

Hee Joo's mom remains awful. What type of mother does not even recognize that the women in the face mask is not her daughter?

I am still curious about In A. I suspect that In A knows Sa Eon is not the bio son and who gave that information is the person behind the kidnapper. But what other secrets about Sa Eon are there that Hee Joo's mother knows?

Secretary/Assistant, is still shady and I do not trust him

[shibaincubus]

The winter revenge

It can be used for all schoolbreaks or when you just need a detox

We all know about the winter arc but if you feel like you have wasted all the time

It's not over yet

Because the last two weeks are acc the most important ones for starting motivated into the year.

You already have new years resolutions but if you start them earlier in the year you already did a lot of the mental work and the motivation bonus that you get in the new year is also playing a huge role in sticking to your habits

That's why there is so much importance on structures like the winter arc.

In these two weeks you should develop your core habits

The defining phase

So the hardest part here is defining your core goals

One model that I like to use is a stick man model

You draw two stick mans and a arrow between them. Past and future is written between them. On the arrow you're writing the duration. Here it's our winter break glow up.

Past man: Write all the behaviours of your past self that you don't like

EX. Unfit, undisciplined etc.

On the future self you write what you are and how you will get there

EX. Dopamin detox -> Discipline ; Workout -> Getting fit

Now you are marking your Future points in three different colours

Spiritually; Physically; Mentally;

The plan

Write everything (best in red) on a sheet of paper and hang it up somewhere where you are looking every day

Make a order how you like it

This is Personal

Ensure that you are not betraying your resolutions on the first day

Make it more memorable so that you don't forget your resolutions

make a small message on your phone alarm like:

Do it for your highest self -> she's rooting for you

It's going to signal the change for life

The way you wake up is acc on of the most important moments

If you rot in bed = rotting day energy -> you feel unmotivated

Put important things into proper places

Ex: Put the yoga mat on the ground if you plan on doing Pilates tmr your going to automatically get Pilates your head

make a mini check list for the days that you check mark at the end of the day

It gives a natural dopamine rush which makes us proud and motivated

Don't forget the Pinterest board

use virtue signalling to trick your subconscious

Final advice

The first days will be sooo unconfortable but it's going to be worth sm when you check mark your sucess every day

The journey makes the goal and the goal makes the journey

Take a deep breath and think about the adventures that you are going to do in this stage

Adventures are outside of our comfort zone and that's the thrill with them

Think about the genuine happiness that you feel having sucess

Let go of the perfection obsession and let it fall into reality

Start now

[backpackingspace]

sinmas thoughts

Okay so I literally just finished the episode an hour ago! And !! Omg

Okay first off deeply concerned about a few things

Like yes yay the elsa bitch guy getting beat up was great but like how fucking easy is it going to be for him to turn around and go hey these peasants attacked me in my own home and it's back to them about to be executed. Like there's no fucking way there isn't consequences for this

Did anybody else notice millie getting punched by elsa bitch really fucking hard right in her lower stomach. Because I sure did! What if she's not pregnant after that what if she comes to terms with being pregnant and starts to get excited only to find out her baby was murdered before it even had a chance.

There were...a lot of fucking pill bottles there. Were they empty or did stolas just mass order his fucking pills. I am worried that via will start to take them. After all she's alone in a traumatic household with her world burning down around her

Speaking of via her powers!! Coming in! And them being sporadic as fuck and tied to her emotions? Can't wait for her to literally blow everybody up that'll be a fun time.

Still on via, bot really a concern just something I'm thinking about. The way via knew immediately not to argue with her mother, or even attempt to get her phone back or get an extra one or anything at all is very telling. The way she knew to just immediately put her headphones in and keep her head down and to go hide in her room. The way she went even further to hide in her closet before starting to sing? (How many times do we think she heard her mom berate her dad for singing) i think via knows her dad was being abused but hasn't yet fully realized what that means and is (understandablely) having a lot of feelings in every single direction.

Luna seems so much more happier and relaxed! She has friends now! She's laughing and smiling and not wearing exclusively dark clothes! She's openly calling blizo dad with out the grumbling! She just seems a lot more settled and happy now and honestly good for her!!

Idk why but I was not expecting stolas to sound like that. Just the way he said pussy caught me off guard for some reason. There were a couple other times where that happened but I don't really feel like listening them all out. Also. Fucking weird to be seeing stolas's pupils now.

Also!!! Stolas's face as m&m tore into each other. Wow. You know he was freaking the fuck out there and reliving some shit.

Speaking of background faces; the imp servants at the palace. Yah they all looked miserable and terrified. Not surprised but still yikes! With stolas they were always very much done with his shit , tired, and resigned but none of them seemed really terrified/upset like they do now.

Love that we don't really get overly nice manipulation Stella on via. Like she didn't even pretend to give a shit about her for more than that one second did she.

Blitzo calling stolas his bottom instead of just... literally anything else. Like he literally did not have to do that. But also confirmed stolitz dom/sub contract? 👀 or is this blitzo being himself and I'm reading too much into it.

All of us secretary! Stolas secretary! Stolas only for it to turn out that he hates it so fucking much ("I'm poor now! Melts into a puddle oh man. )

[coolingrosa]

I entirely agree with your points about dream XD although i believe they were six instead of eight…

Also not liking Neil is valid, but keep in mind, Neil only knows as much as dream tells him, since he’s practically banished from their village

and like you said, dream doesn’t comprehend or even know about most of their abuse. even if he did he’s unlikely to tell neil, since dreams whole reason for going into the woods was to hide his pain and crying

neil had yet to meet nightmare, and had no idea what dream was actually going through, i’m not sure why this makes him a horrible person? the people in that village caused him to lose his home, a limb, and killed his wife and young son, i don’t think he had any way of knowing before its to late…

i see people finding him uninteresting and i understand but im not really seeing how he’s a horrible person for not knowing what’s going on behind the scenes💔 he’s a heartbroken man who’s isolated and only connection is..this child 💔for all we know, he probably assumed dream had a caretaker, he may have even thought “nightmare” was dreams caretaker. whatever the case i don’t think it’s fair to label him this way, but i am always interested in your interpretations and i’d love to hear your thoughts on it /gen💚💚💚

I’m not saying he’s a horrible person- but as an adult, there were signs of abuse Dream definitely displayed and failed to notice. Children aren’t good at putting up a front. Hell- I’m sure Dream had to mention Nightmare’s constant injuries out of concern. If he didn’t, it would imply Dream didn’t put much mind to them, which could be true as he’s a kid, but I don’t think that’s very in character for who Dream is- especially since he blames himself for never doing anything. That blame does make it seem implied Dream knew something wasn’t right but didn’t have the words or the comprehension to wrap his head around it (or skull lol)

I know Neil’s past and isolation- but you’d think that would make him even more suspicious with how Dream talked about how much pressure he had on him, or how Nightmare never shows himself but always seems to be injured in Dream’s stories. Nightmare was abused BADLY. I do remember this having to be said due to fans saying it was just bullying, but adults would also partake in beating him. There would be many signs of Nightmare not able to play as much because he’s hurting- further isolating himself that would leave Dream likely frustrated and wanting to rant about how Nightmare “hates him” and oh so “loathes him” b.c he won’t play anymore. Neil, as an adult, should hear that and be suspicious. But he doesn’t do anything or look further into it.

He knows the villagers and how horrible they are, would likely hear from Dream slip-ups that make the picture more clear, but never nudged to meet Nightmare himself. He focused only on Dream rather than being curious about the other sibling. I also don’t think it’s in character for Dream to never talk about Nightmare and say who he is. Nightmare was his brother and the light of his life. His death haunts him so badly that he’s in pain for centuries after and constantly misses that little boy. The balance ties them together- and Dream wouldn’t miss a beat to talk about him. Especially since he’s so young, he’s bound to over share as soon as he feels safe.

Neil isn’t an abuser or on the same standing as the villagers. But there was indeed some neglect done there, no matter how you look at it. He isn’t THE CAUSE of the apple incident or Nightmare’s abuse, but he is a passive force that looked the other way instead of stepping in, leaving the boys alone even more. Just like Nim did.

So, no, I’m not saying he’s a horrible person. But he’s not a good father figure if he only focused on Dream and neglected looking into the obvious signs of abuse towards Nightmare that Dream missed. I don’t think Dream would want to be around someone who did that, or he wouldn’t feel as comfortable anymore. Dream isn’t a single package. He had a brother with him. I don’t see him ever fully trusting Neil again for not stepping in as the adult in the picture in favor of Dream, bc that’s exactly what the villagers had been doing to Nightmare leading up to his death.

He’s not a horrible person and can be sympathetic, but he sat by and did nothing in the face of abuse. That’s why I don’t like him. I get why others do, but I can’t. If he was written better with more concern towards both twins, then perhaps I would.

[666writingcafe]

Sneaking Away

A Few Weeks Later

AKA: Anna Lets Her Character Bias Show

Content Warning: NSFW for sexy biting

The formal part of RAD's opening ceremony goes smoothly. Everyone's speeches--including mine--were well received, and the ribbon gets cut to the sound of camera flashes. Inside is where the party truly begins. Drinks are flowing, people are mingling, and hips are moving as the DJ plays popular tunes through various speakers. Everyone's having a great time.

Well, everyone except for me.

Lucifer's been distant ever since we've returned from Cocytus. If it were just from me, I'd be handling it better, but even his brothers have received the cold shoulder from him. I know better than to push him to reveal his feelings before he's ready, but at the same time this night was to be an unofficial goodbye before Solomon and I returned to our timeline, and the fact that I haven't heard a single peep out of Lucifer...

I would much rather sit through a three-hour lecture with him yelling at me than the continuous radio silence. It also doesn't help that he seemingly disappears into thin air as soon as the two ribbon pieces hit the ground and that no one else knows where he went.

"Go."

Solomon places a hand on my shoulder and leans in close so that other people can't hear him.

"What are you talking about?" I whisper.

"You've had closure with the others. You deserve to do the same with him. I'll make sure you aren't followed. Now, go, before it's too late."

Ducking out a semi-hidden door at the back of the auditorium, I reflect on Solomon's words. I've been able to have conversations with the other brothers about my true identity. Some had more questions than others, and some held grunges for a few days, but at least they were willing to talk about it.

Unlike the eldest, who seems more content with hiding.

Speaking of which, where could he be?

I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky.

Of course. It's probably the most quiet part of this entire building at the moment. Thankfully, I know where its hatch is. Scaling the building like a mountain goat would bring too much attention.

~~~

I know Lucifer senses my presence. If my scent didn't give me away, then the noisy hatch surely did. And yet he does nothing to acknowledge it. I suppose I should take this as a win; he hasn't told me to fuck off, not even when I walk over and stand near him.

We lean against the railing and look out on the landscape in silence. As much as I want to say something, I know that he has to be the one to break it. He's always had difficulty revealing his emotions, especially when he's not under the influence of alcohol or serums. I'd only cause him to put up even more barriers if I confront him about it.

And so I wait.

The clock in a nearby tower chimes eleven times.

"What are we?"

Lucifer's sudden question causes me to jump.

"W-What?"

"In your timeline. I'm aware of the pacts, but is there anything outside of that?"

"I...I don't understand--" Lucifer quickly turns his head to look at me, his eyes nearly glowing.

"What am I to you, MC?" His voice wavers. Is he trying not to cry?

I take a deep breath. Out of all the things he could have fixated on, I didn't think this would have been what he latched on to.

"Do you remember me telling you about the man I left behind to be here?"

"The one that you would have married if circumstances were different?" I nod my head.

"I was talking about you, Lucifer." A brief pause to allow him to process my words. "Does that answer your question?"

"It certainly makes me feel better about doing this."

"Doing what--" In a blink of an eye, Lucifer closes the gap between us, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss that threatens to take my breath away.

He steps back a moment later and grabs my hand, his face flushed.

"Let's get out of here."

"But what about--"

"We gave our speeches. As far as I'm aware, the rest of this evening is just a party celebrating Diavolo's success, and I don't want to pretend to like people that wanted us gone only a few weeks ago. Besides, my brothers' antics will keep everyone occupied enough that our presence won't be missed, so that'll allow us plenty of time to ourselves."

"You know that Solomon and I were planning on leaving once things wrapped up here, right?"

"Don't worry; we'll come back. I just..." A sigh. "Look, I know I've been distant towards you lately, and I want to make it up to you. Please, MC."

I've always wondered how Simeon came up with some of his characters' dialogue. How much of it was strictly was from his imagination, and how much of it was things he believed certain people would say if they acted out his scenes in real life?

How much of it was him indirectly influencing the future?

"I still remember the day I first met you, almost like it was yesterday." I find myself murmuring. "The way you fixed your eyes on me, that noble yet sincere gaze..."

"The moment I beheld it, I was transfixed." I didn't think Lucifer still had access to my memories, so how is he able to recite the next line? "And that was it. There was no going back. I fell for you completely, body and soul." He brings the top of my hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

And then suddenly we were no longer on the rooftop, but instead inside Lucifer's room.

"I apologize, MC, but I can't hold back any longer."

He quickly picks me up and sets me on his bed, saddling me as his lips feverishly touch mine. Our hands soon begin wandering, taking in as much of each other as we possibly can. His mouth travels down to my neck, where he bites down on it and begins sucking.

It is common for demons to drink each other's blood when they get intimate.

Something I've never been able to do as a human, but here...

My mouth latches onto Lucifer's shoulder, my teeth sharp enough in this form to pierce his skin. His blood's quite rich, almost like a deep dark chocolate.

But the low, drawn-out moan that emanates from him is what causes warmth to spread all over my body.

"I want you," he murmurs. "I need you."

His expression is nearly identical to the one that Diavolo wore when Lucifer was in his former angel form in Cocytus.

Like I'm the most beautiful, magnificent creature he's ever beheld.

"Then take me."

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