#What if Celine cared so much about her brother that she fucked you over in an attwmpt to help him?

[dizzybevvie]

Listen I fully follow wkm lore but like how the FUCK did he come up with any of that

[artsyfangirl]

Mama!Y/n facts

Y/n has 3 tattleBabies. Yellow - Lemon, Purple - Leo, Blue - Clyde

Babies say Y/n is the ”BEST PARENT EVER!!!”

Y/n hums. a lot,

Y/n makes their own and their babies clothes <3

Babies don’t wear shoes and Y/n wears mostly mary janes or no shoes also

Leo is fucking feral. and by feral i mean, Pounces on you and fucking tries to attack you.

y/n has a nest full of plastic eggs and snacks

Y/n perfers not to attack trasspassers. They don’t wanna make a bad example :(

I was actually about to say that Leo looks like a little shit before I read what you said about him being feral. Looks like we’re on the same page.

And yeah, with kids like THOSE? You HAVE to set a good example. Not like it’s gonna stop Leo from jumping the poor bastards…

And the bois simp so hard. Literally MILF/DILF/PILF. They are ON THEIR KNEES. PLEASE. JUST ONE CHANCE. Oh god, Eric wouldn’t be able to function around Mama!Y/N. He wouldn’t. Like me with a few of my fictional crushes (AKA Time, Malon, Twilight, Rosemary, Jack, Michael, etc.)

The poor boy couldn’t do anything. And the little ones are lookin’ at ‘im like, ‘We know’ with Leo being all like, ‘don’t you dare do a thing, you little shit’.

JJ would… oh he’d be head over heels, more obviously than most of the others cus of the whole ‘silent movie’ thing. Poor guy.

YANCY WOULD BE JUST- OH MY GOD. HE JUST- I CAN’T, THERE ARE NO WORDS.

Damien is fucking SWEATING. Is it hot in here? YES HE KNOWS HE’S IN A SNOWY WASTELAND SHUT UP. LEAVE THE POOR MAN ALONE.

Celine is also awestruck. She immediately decides to team up with Y/N. Power couple of the century. And yes, she’s fully aware of her brother having a crisis over there, he’ll be thanking her later for setting them up with Y/N.

Actor can’t. Fucking. SPEAK! Which is kind of important when you’re an actor, at least, one from his era. Be careful, Y/N, and keep the tykes away too, his handle on his powers isn’t the best right now, to say the least.

The Host is mumbling so much no one can tell what’s going on over there. He’s ascended to Izuku Midoriya levels of muttering. And yes, he’s muttering, not speaking, cus he doesn’t want to freak Y/N out or draw attention to himself.

Wil literally just sticks to Y/N like glue, ignoring the jealous glares of the other Egos and the glares from Leo. He literally is the only Ego that can weasel his way into the heart of any Y/N. He is immune to the boundaries that the others face. So take that, Dark!

Dark, speaking of, is uh- well, he’s in conflict alright. One of his aberrations (as I’ll call them for now) is all over the place, and the other is just… chill. Kinda. Not hiding the fluster very well. Poor guy.

He’s so used to being the composed one but now, since SOMEONE (coUgH Damien coUgH) can’t handle himself (Dark’s redirecting the blame, yes it is partially Dame’s fault for not being able to compose himself but also Dark’s fault for being insanely flustered himself), now he’s a mess.

AND EVERYONE CAN SEE. EVEN THAT LITTLE SHIT THAT’S BEEN GLARING AT EVERYONE SINCE THEY ARRIVED. Though… he will admit, the brat has been glaring at Mark rather nastily (the most nastily out of all of them) this whole time, so maybe he’s not as bad as Dark thinks.

Celine responds in ‘headspace’, ‘nope, he’s just a little shit who wrecks everything and sees Mark as the biggest competitor’. Well, there goes that hope.

Anti is metaphorically slipping on everything. Like he’s stepped on a banana peel in a cartoon. He tries to be all intimidating, but then it just. Fails. Utterly. He’s getting so frustrated, he starts glitching out a bit more than usual.

Marvin is more thankful than EVER that he has his mask. Cus it’s sure comin’ in handy. Other than that, I think he’s probably fine. Slips up a bit sure, but mostly fine.

Jackie is also glad to have a mask. For some reason Leo keeps glaring at him the most, not sure why. Perhaps it’s the brat’s inner ‘law abider’ radar.

Schneep is just- so tired. Can someone please escort him out? He can’t deal with this right now. He’s too mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Chase is more sympathetic, but is also really flustered. He gets along well with the kids though, even Leo, strangely enough.

Also, Wil is obsessed with the fact that Y/N makes their and their children’s clothes by hand. JJ finds it charming too. And this discovery just makes Damien’s situation even worse.

The man is so flustered that if you saw him, you would swear that his body heat was melting the snow around him. Celine just looks at her brother and’s just like, ‘yup, this is my brother, everyone, this right here. This useless (affectionately) man. Can’t even get a S/O. Pathetic (affectionately)’.

Engineer is the most shameless simp of them all. Even Yancy can’t hold a candle to this man. This man is truly SHAMELESS. Just please, please. Remember, this guy is a Mark, after all. Of course he shares the love of big people. (Ahem, remember Mark’s reactions to Lady Dimitrescu, everyone)

He would do anything. Please.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

satan's little blessing.

© @sonsofeorl

MICHAEL ‘RIZ’ ARIZA. (x Taza Romero's daughter)

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, oral sex (male receiving), language, mention of bodily fluids.

❝ a / n: a beautiful dream i had last night 😌 as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Your intentions of preparing Riz a good breakfast and bringing it to bed are ruined when two arms are wrapped around you and a nose is sunk in your neck. You can't help but close your eyes gasping, turning around under his embrace, not needing much time to notice the lump beneath his black boxers. A week has passed since he left Santo Padre for a quick run, and two days since he came back but you had to attend your father. Today, he's all yours and you're all his. Your tongues find each other's out of your mouth, pushing yours to your cavity as you moan against his.

Riz's hands roam up your sides, raising the gems of the t-shirt you have stolen him too damn slowly, dragging his fingertips over your exposed skin as his caresses give you goosebumps. Your secret boyfriend loves to torture you after you've been teasing him with your hot messages during the whole trip. His lips don't have any rush either, tasting yours meticulously, while his fingers reach your hard nipples under the soft fabric. Riz pinches them shameless, drinking the moan you can't hold back, as he purrs in your mouth.

The bubble of heat you two are inside of is broken when his phone starts to ring somewhere around the living room. And you know he must reply to the call. He grunts resting his forehead on yours before placing a pissed kiss to leave you there, breathless and needed. It only takes him a couple of seconds to answer and come back to the kitchen. His face is priceless and by his gesture, you know who is at the other side of the line.

“What's up, brother?”

Brother. If only your father knew what his brother is doing (...). You lick your bottom lip mischievously, walking towards your boyfriend dangerously as he frowns confused because of your grimace.

“No, no, I just woke up, no worries”.

He goes backward until his body finds the nearest wall. He is scared. He can read your intentions on the feigned innocence appearing on your eyes. And you don't give him time to stop you, being already kneeled in front of him and pulling his boxers down.

“Yeah, no… I'm gonna stay at home today”.

Riz is sweating, bowing down his head to find your lustful orbs over his hard dick raised majestically to his abdomen. He tries to push you away with his free hand, gripping his wrist with your fingers to pin it to the wall by the side of his hips. Using the tip of your tongue you lick all his length —from the base to the reddened tip—, sucking only his head between your lips. You can see him closing his eyes, gulping a loud pleased moan as he tries to follow the conversation.

“(Y/N)...? No, I hav— haven't seen he— fuck”.

You don't let him finish his sentence, bobbing down your head until his glans is forcing your throat to beyond his limits.

“Yeah, ye— yeah, I just… hit my toe with the door frame”.

The gag he produces you gives him enough strength to free his hand and tangle it on your hair to push you back, begging in silence for you to stop. But you're not going to. God, you have missed him so much and you don't care who he is talking to or what he has to do. Rocking your head, you twirl your tongue around his hardness making some more pressure with your lips, while Riz is starting to have some struggles to breathe.

“Her bike…? Next to my house? Where ar— are you?”

You guess your father is at Vicky's like every Sunday morning. Your boyfriend's eyes widen open, having to bite his bottom lip when you slam his dick against the walls of your throat again. Your nose is pressed to his pelvis, your crystal eyes are on his scared ones and you're about to choke if it wasn't because you can notice the force he's doing to not moan again.

“Lemme… check if she's here. You know tha— that she hates to sleep alone in the ranch… and sometimes she co— comes here”.

Yeah, you sometimes come there. Freeing his cock but gripping it gently with your fingers to jerk him off, your mouth goes straight to his balls. You suck them and pull them back with no mercy, whilst the dance of your hand around his length becomes hasty. Riz is enduring like a champion, pretending he's walking through his house to try to find you.

“I don— don't know, Taza… I was too drunk when I… came home. I fell asleep on the so— sofa. Maybe she's in my bed”. Your boyfriend needs to pause briefly because of how good you look with his balls within your mouth, tasting him in all his splendor, running him out of words. “I'm… okay… I just have a fuckin' headache… Yeah, it's called hangover… thanks for your wisdom, brother”.

“Go check on her, idiot”.

You can feel his heated cock starting to twitch under your grip and you know he's really close. This is a new record. He isn't going to last not even a minute. The risk, the need, your warm mouth swallowing him and sucking his life out of his body is too much to handle at the same time.

“Okay, I'm… I'm… coming”. Riz gasp inappreciable for your father, but not for you.

“You don't have to tell me you're coming to your room. The fuck is wrong with you today?” You can hear your dad laughing at the other side of the phone, making you giggle because your boyfriend is really stupid sometimes.

As soon as your lips are blowing his dick down, increasing the pace of the swing of your head, the Mexican helps you to go a little faster to finish this torture you have put him into. But, God, he's not going to lie. He's enjoying it more than ever in his life. He can't put his eyes off from you, putting the speaker on to leave it over the dinner table to free his other hand —the one that lands by the side of the other. In silence, arching his back, Riz fucks your mouth. He fucks your mouth rough, quick, clumsily, abusing your lips and your throat now that he can go deeper.

Your saliva mixed with his pre-cum spills itself through the corner of your lips, trying to breathe by your nostrils while your crystal eyes continue glued to his darkest orb, letting him use you at his will.

“Is she there or not? Your house isn't that big”.

“Yeah, wa— wait. I was checking the guests' room”. Riz lies, not holding his orgasm for any longer.

He closes his eyelids strongly, opening his mouth as much as he can because of the pleasure of exploding inside of your mouth, pressing your face against his pelvis as much as he can. Gladly choking you on his bittersweet cum to punish you for playing with him like that.

“Satan's little blessing is here”. Your boyfriend pants unconsciously, resting his head against the wall gulping a new silent grunt.

“Send me a picture”.

Riz looks at you almost panicking. That petition has turned him off completely, letting you go. Your cheeks are burning because of the effort. Your chin, your neck, your shirt (...), wherever he looks at your boyfriend can see part of his cum and your saliva. The less you have couldn't swallow. But you're not worried at all, collecting it with your fingers to suck them clean under his attentive horrified glance.

“Okay, you, ah… lemme hang up and I wil—”.

“You don't need to hang up to send me a picture”.

“I'm a man! I can't do two thiNGS AT ONCE”.

“Fucking relax, brother. You're gonna wake her up”.

Because you aren't enough awake yet.

“Forget it. You're dumb as fuck, Ariza, I swear it. Can't understand the hell has seen my daughter on you”.

“You said what?”

Standing up as you clean your mouth on your shirt, you raise both eyebrows about to break in laughs. Is that pretty obvious? Does he really know what happens between the two of you?

“I know my kid better than she knows herself. And you… you… you're dumb as fuck, man”. Taza repeats trying to not chuckle. “You fuckin' drool wherever she walks by”.

“I don't kn—”.

“Prepare her breakfast. Satan's little blessing needs coffee when she wakes up”.

Riz can't reply. Your father hangs up laughing, as he watches you cross your arms over your chest.

“Do you… refer to me like Satan's little blessing all the time?”

“You're not a fucking angel, mi amor”. He scoffs putting on his boxers, squinting at you.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @fanofalltheficsx @aurelie-celine

[margaretbellaware]

The Azarola Girl - Chapter 03

Masterlist

Warnings: Vomiting and arguing.

Heisenberg and Y/n stood off to the side, watching as Alcina scolded Moreau for throwing up on her carpet. Y/n let out a small chuckle, although she wasn’t amused by the current situation.

Karl glanced over at the shorter woman next to him, noticing she was looking up at him. “What?” Heisenberg chuckled. Y/n just shook her head in response, a small smile gracing her lips.

Right as Alcina was done scolding Moreau, a swarm of black blowflies came rushing through the doors, a fit of crazed giggles coming too. Just then did Y/n and Karl notice the woman being dragged behind the swarm.

Heisenberg’s face went pale, anxiety flooding his senses. The woman he had an ongoing fling with was now laying on the floor with Daniela’s sickle hooked in her leg. “Found this one wondering around in the castle.” Daniela giggled, her body fully appearing, as did Bela and Cassandra’s.

As the woman took in her surroundings, her eyes immediately fell on Karl. “Heisenberg! Help me! Please!” The woman cried.

“Celine, I-” Karl was cut off by a laugh.

Specifically Y/n’s laugh. “Oh this is just too good.” She laughed, a crazed hint in it. Y/n let out a small sigh, trying to calm down.

Y/n started walking towards the door. “Heisenberg, please. I love you.” Celine sobbed. Y/n’s steps came to a halt beside Celine’s head.

The whites of Y/n’s eyes turned black. The calming E/c completely replaced with a harsh white, a bright red brimming her pupils.

A black and red, smoke-like force danced around Y/n’s fingers. With a slight flick of Y/n’s fingers, Celine’s eyes completely dulled, sending her into an illusion.

“Ну, развлекайся со своей маленькой игрушкой, Гейзенберг.” Y/n said, venom laced in her words. She turned to look at Heisenberg dead in the eyes.

(Translation: Well, have fun with your little toy, Heisenberg.)

Celine’s cries echoed through the room. All the lords were in shock, not knowing how to react, not knowing what to say. With a small exhale from Y/n, she turned on her heel, throwing the doors to the dining hall.

When Y/n finally made it out of the castle, she started coughing. A painful stinging forming inside her chest, it felt as if her lungs were being filled with liquid. Y/n’s coughing slowly became more violent.

Y/n collapsed to her hands and knees, a thick, black substance started pouring from her mouth when she coughed. The ink-like substance dyeing the snow, even melting it in the process.

Y/n’s eyes started to slowly fade back to her normal E/c ones. Her violent coughing slowly dying down. Any breath she took came out as a struggled wheeze.

Y/n fell on her side to roll on her back. She looked up at the stars, her body adjusting to the temperature of the snow and the air around her. Y/n brought the back of her hand to her mouth, slowly wiping off the black liquid.

Y/n closely inspected the inky substance, reminding her of the fungal roots that she was all too familiar with. A faint sigh escaping Y/n’s lips, causing a burning pain to shoot through her chest, “Ah fuck.” She hissed, grasping at the soft fabric on her chest.

A faint sound of horse hooves and a carriage were heard in the distance. They started to get closer and closer, a small chuckle coming from the abnormally large man.

“Ah, Miss Azarola.” The Duke chuckled, slowly bringing his carriage to a stop, just a few feet away from the woman sprawled out in the snow.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Duke stopped his carriage at the Azarola Castle. “Miss Azarola, we’ve arrived at your home.” He said with a caring tone.

“Thank you, Duke. How much will it be?” Y/n asked, looking through the small hand bag.

“Don’t worry about it dear, just get some rest when you get inside.” Duke smiled. Y/n’s jaw slightly dropped, shocked that she actually got something for free from him. Duke let out a small chuckle as he drove his carriage away.

Y/n turned around to look at the doors of her castle. Just as she was placing her hand on the cold handle of her door, Y/n heard a small whimper. Turning around to look towards the direction it came from, the woods.

Y/n reluctantly walked closer to the woods, that’s when she noticed the faintly growing red eyes. That’s when a huge Varcolac Alfa jumped out of the darkness and tackled her.

Y/n tried using her power, although it wouldn’t work. Tears brimmed her eyes, she was practically frozen in place, right back to where she was twenty-five years ago.

She stared up at the Alpha, it wasn’t really doing anything, just looking at Y/n. Her body shook, from both the cold and fear. The big creature leaned down and sniffed her neck. Then it slowly backed off, looking like a puppy that just got yelled at.

Slowly sitting up, Y/n sighed, looking at the Alpha, completely dumbfounded with what just happened. Tears slowly rolled down her face as she finally found the ability to breathe again.

Y/n slowly looked down at the hand-like paw of the Alpha. Noticing a metal scrap of mental lodged into the palm of it.

“I umm…I don’t know if you understand me, but I can get that out for you. Just please don’t eat me, it’ll hurt, so just stay calm.” Y/n said, her voice shaky and slightly broken from crying.

The Alpha sniffed in her direction, taking slow strides to Y/n’s side. She held out her hand for the big lycan to smell, giving it a sense of trust.

Y/n started walking back towards the doors of her castle, the Varcolac Alfa trailing being her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n was now wrapping up the big lycan’s paw. “Hold still!” Y/n scolded, struggling to wrap the cloth around its injury.

Just as Y/n was finishing up the wrap, the castle doors flew open. The shadow of the floor clearly resembling Heisenberg. The lycan practically jumped in front of her. Growling at the man that controlled it’s kind.

Y/n jumped a little, the growling giving her flashbacks of the sight of her baby brother’s corpse. Shaking her head, trying to get the images out of her mind.

Y/n’s eyes met Karl’s. “Can I help you?” Y/n asked, annoyance evident in her voice.

“Azarola, we need to have a little chat.” Karl said, venom laced his words as he walked closer. The Alpha ready to pounce on him.

Y/n hesitated but brushed her hand along the huge lycan’s spine. “Go outside.” She whispered to the creature.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh but it’s okay for you to be a two timing asshole? Real nice Heisenberg.” Y/n taunted, crossing her arms to look at the man.

“Y/n, we kissed once! How does that give you any sort of authority over my love life? My god, you’re just like Miranda.” Heisenberg mumbled the last part, but clearly not quiet enough.

“I’m like Miranda? That’s really cute coming from you.” Y/n said, taking a step towards Heisenberg. Y/n was about to continue but a thick, black liquid slowly dripped from her nose.

She touched her fingers below her nostril, pulling her hand away and glancing at the liquid. Y/n quickly glanced up into Karl’s eyes. That familiar pain in her chest came back, the burning sensation even stronger than before.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

While Y/n and Heisenberg were fighting, a small BSAA squad were at the Megamycete, taking shots to it every few minutes.

This was now the second year looking into Y/n Azarola. Finally going to the village, the start of a cruel and twisted rabbit hole.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Make it stop.” Y/n struggled to get out. She was currently on the floor with Karl kneeling on her side. She had a death grip on Heisenberg’s hand. Her back slightly arching from pain.

Karl looked down at Y/n, worried, confused, and just lost. She was perfectly fine a few seconds ago, fighting with him, pissing him off, being feisty, just doing the things that drew him in. And now it seemed like she only had a few moments of life left.

“The Megamycete.” Y/n cried out. Her mouth opened as if she was about to say something else. Although, she gave into the exhaustion and slowly closed her eyes.

“Hey hey, you gotta stay awake for me.” Heisenberg said, using his left hand to cup Y/n’s face. He received no response, just silence, he was thankful she was still breathing, but it was clearly struggled.

Heisenberg gently lifted Y/n off the floor. He let out a loud whistle. Thousands of lycans started to rush towards her castle. Only some of them making it through her door.

“Go to the Megamycete, kill anything in your path and bring it back to my factory.” Karl said.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @imagine-yourself-happy @the-soldats-kitten @ktdragonborn @ella-dragneel @jellyroom2 @frietiemeloen

If you wanna be on the taglist, please let me know.

[scarletwidowaf]

Imagine that no power AU where Natasha falls for this cute artsy girl and slowly finds out (to her horror) that Wanda's not just some random artsy crafts girl who plays guitar, but the (adopted) Granddaughter of the owner of the company Natasha works for. As in oh, oh no, that's Carter's grandbaby, Carter's gonna kill me.

baby carter

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff (scarlet widow \ wandanat)

warnings: cursing? Terrible grammar and writing maybe because my brain's having hard time.

A\N: soft scarlet widow- Natasha being awkward and charming and Wanda being absolutely adorable. also, I honestly don't know what I feel bout it - I think it's kinda messy especially compared to my latest work.

words: idk... a lot? 

masterlist

Natasha's been working in carter's Law Firm for almost 3 years now, slowly climbing up the company's hierarchical food chain, yet not enough to get the well-deserved promotion she was aching to get.

Not that she was ungrateful, hell no. not long after she graduated she got the job in carter's, which was one of the best and strongest law firms in the market. This means that not only that she found herself working alongside some of the best lawyers in the world, she truly couldn't complain about the paycheck she was getting every month.

Natasha wasn't ungrateful, but she was driven and she knew she was great at her job, hell, she was the best young lawyer in her class, yet, after 3 years in the firm, she was still working under Coulson. Which naturally means, she did a lot of dirty work instead of representing her own cases. Working with Coulson was great, really, the man was nice, sweet, a bit nerdy at times, and of course, such a great lawyer. Looking back, Natasha should give him credit for many things she achieved in the last 3 years, and one of them was meeting the love of her life- the one and only Wanda Maximoff.

One Thursday evening, as she was just finishing up some paperwork at the firm's office in New York, she got a call from Coulson, who let her know they were cutting the day short following personal constraints.

Instead of going straight home to rest after the brutal week, as she probably should've done, she decided to text Steve and Tony to see if they were free. luckily for her, her two best friends were willing to sacrifice any plans they had for this fine Thursday night, to celebrate the rare occasion of Natasha getting out of the firm before 8 pm.

The bar steve chose was nice, rather quiet and chill. Naturally, tony didn't seem to be a fan of the blonde's choice, but since it was Steve's turn to choose a place there wasn't much he could've done about it.

"We should sit near the stage" Steve said as he spotted an empty table at the other side of the bar, near the stage.

"What's wrong with you rogers? Do you want us to sit near the stage where random people will try to squick their hearts out to a Celine Dion song?" Tony sneered out, his eyes shooting daggers at the blonde as they sat.

"It's not a karaoke bar, tony" Natasha defended steve's choice.

"Yeah, this bar hosts young talented artists, I think it's awesome and refreshing" the blonde explained.

"I still hate it" tony said.

"We don't care" Natasha said as a waitress came to the table.

Over an hour and a half later, 3 performances were over and two bawls of fries as well, the next artist got onto the stage.

The woman was young, probably younger than Natasha, and beautiful.

She was dressed rather simply compared to the other artists, just a plain white T and an old pair of skinny jeans.

Natasha noticed that some strands of her dark brown hair got stuck under her red guitar's strap.

The woman was smiling nervously as she introduced herself to the crowd and Natasha couldn't help but send her an encouraging small smile.

Surprisingly for her, the woman smiled back.

Tony and steve noticed it as well and they exchanged knowing looks.

The singer's voice was almost as beautiful as her.

Her fingers softly strumming on the frets- as almost as it was second nature, while her soft angelic voice filled the room, sending chills through Natasha's body.

Natasha smiled when she noticed how quiet the bar became, everyone seemed to be enchanted by the young singer.

When the singer finished her preference she smiled brightly to the audience, who cheered for her loudly- as she deserved, and got off the stage.

Natasha noticed the poor singer who was supposed to try and top her incredible performance. He seemed miserable.

"Earth to nat!?" Tony waved his hand in front of Natasha. The redhead blinked twice before tearing her attention from the singer and to her friends.

Steve was smiling at her, his eyes glittering in enthusiasm, while tony smirked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked.

Steve laughed and tony sigh.

"We said that she was really good" the blonde explained

"Not that you haven't noticed it, you've been practically drooling," Tony said.

"I was not" she defended herself

"You were," he said. "But we don't judge you Romanoff, its natural, she was pretty and you didn't get laid in a while. Plus- You always had a thing for the innocent looking ones" he explained and Natasha sent him her dirtiest glare.

If a look could kill tony stark would've been dead by now.

"Okay first, I wasn't drooling. Second, fuck you"

"Nice comeback" tony taunted her with a smirk, knowing full well he wasn't completely wrong.

"You should ask her out. You seem to like her"

Steve smiled at her and Natasha knew he meant it- he was was always the sweetest one of the three.

"Fancy her" tony corrected steve.

"She Like her" steve raised his eyebrow at his friend.

"Fancy" tony taunted

"Li-" steve was about to argue again until Natasha cut the stupid argument off.

"Fuck off you too," she said and waved to the waiter, hoping that another beer might make the two less annoying.

When the waiter didn't come, Natasha got frustrated, her two friends started to argue over another idiotic thing: steve's lack of love life and tony's girlfriend's lack of taste In men.

"I'm gonna get a refill," she said as she got up. The two sent her quick okays before getting back to their bickering.

When Natasha approached the bar she noticed a familiar face.

The singer was sitting in front of the bar's counter with a glass of mojito. She seemed to be having a polite conversation with the bartender.

"Hey, I'm sorry to interrupt but can I have a refill?" Natasha asked the bartender. The man smiled at her and nodded before he replaced her empty cup with a new one.

The singer smiled at her softly again- Natasha smiled nervously at her.

"I'm Natasha" Natasha said awkwardly to the girl, her cheeks flushed.

Wanda smiled back at her "hey Natasha, I'm Wanda" Wanda, the singer said as she held out her hand for a handshake.

Natasha took her hand, praying to whatever god exist that her hand wasn't sweaty.

'What's wrong with me?' She thought as she mentally faces palmed herself.

"I liked your performance," Natasha said and Wanda smiled at her.

Natasha smiled back, happy she had the privilege to be the reason the singer smiled.

"Thank you" wanda thanked her.

"I saw you at the front line," Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

"Yeah, my friend likes this place. He chose the table" she admitted.

"That's nice, I'm guessing it's your first time in here"

"Yeah, it is actually. Was I that obvious?" Natasha joked and Wanda laughed.

"Just a little bit," Wanda said with a smile "what do you think about it so far?"

"It's really nice, honestly" Natasha admitted.

"Yeah, I think that as well. I come here often with my cousin and brother but its the first time I was on stage"

"Well, you were great. Seriously. You were" she started before gazing at the stage briefly, catching the sight of the young singer who went up after Wanda. "sorry, are- the best singer" she continued and Wanda blushed.

"Thank you it means a lot"

"Anytime," Natasha said back

"I should really go... It was lovely meeting you Natasha." Wanda said as she checked the time, a small frown on her lips.

"You too," Natasha said.

Wanda nodded at her before getting up and turning around from Natasha to pull her guitar.

when Natasha took a small sip from her beer she catches the bartender's eye.

The guy was giving her the 'are you kidding me?!' look- who was a well-known look she was familiar with from years of friendship with tony.

"Hey Wanda-" Natasha said to Wanda, who was about to walk away. The singer turned back around with a small confused smile.

"Yeah?" She asked

"Would you like to, maybe, I don't know.. go out sometime?" Natasha stuttered.

'Did I just fucking stuttered!?' She mentally kicked herself.

"Yeah.. id like that" Wanda said with a smile. The brunette took a pen out of her jeans pocket and scribble something on Natasha's arm.

"Call me," Wanda said with a smile before she smiled at the bartender, who tried to look busy with anything but them.

"Bye bucky" she laughed at his antics and left.

Natasha looked up from the scrabble on her hand, who was- of course Wanda's number with a small heart at the bottom, and exchange looks with bucky the bartender.

"That went well, right?" She asked him dumbfounded and he laughed before handing her a shot glass with vodka.

"Yeah it did.. friendly advice, don't fuck it up" he said as passed her a slice of lemon.

Natasha downed the shot, nodded at him as she took her beer, and left the lemon on the counter. Her legs taking her back to her table. both of her friends were staring at her with wide eyes.

"Hell yeah Romanoff!" Tony said excitedly.

Natasha smiled at tony before looking at steve with a chuckle "the bartender is your type" she said as she set.

Steve gave her a 'are you kidding me look before his eyes traveled from her to the bartender at the bar.

----------------------ᱬ----------------------

Not long after Natasha and Wanda met again, a few times actually. 10 minutes into their first date, Natasha knew she was in trouble.

Wanda was completing Natasha on almost every level she thought about.

Wanda was carefree and dorky as Natasha was a stressed workaholic.

Wanda liked homemade meals and cooking while Natasha was practically living on boxed mac and cheese or takeout.

Natasha loved to binge movies and random tv shows into the night while Wanda liked getting up early to watch the sunrise.

Wanda loved fruity alcoholic drinks while Natasha preferred it clean.

Wanda was a splash of color in Natasha's black and white life.

Not long after, Natasha asked wanda to be her girlfriend- it happened in a month and a half after their first meeting as the two women laid in Wanda's bed, naked and sweaty with their limbs intertwined.

She could've done it more romantic, but both girls truly couldn't give a damn about it.

Wanda's apartment was incredible.

The studio apartment was big and bright.

The apartment's walls color was cream and the tall window frames were covered with white curtains.

In the beginning, Natasha didn't really understand why wanda even bother to use these curtains since the sun would light the room either way, (she found out about this terrible trait when she first stayed over and found herself awake and cursing under her breath at 7 am) But, luckily for her, Natasha learned rather fast why the younger girl's windows where ALWAYS covered. It was simple, really.

Wanda had this habit to walk around the apartment half-naked, or completely naked on better days, and as much as Natasha was grateful for that (and she was), she truly wasn't the one to share, especially not the image of her naked girlfriend as she walked around the apartment or squirmed under her touch on the bed- or anywhere they chose, really.

"Nat?" Wanda whispered softly as she was playing with her sleepy girlfriend's hair and spread soft kisses on her back.

"Hm?" Natasha hummed, half asleep.

"There's something I need to tell you" Wanda said softly. Her voice barely a whisper.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Natasha asked as she turned around to face the taller woman.

Natasha's eyebrows were tightened together in worry and Wanda couldn't help but kiss her on the nose.

"Yeah" she whispered and Natasha waited patiently for her to continue "it's just that.. there's something I need to tell you... about my family"

"Okay.." Natasha encouraged her to continue.

"My family-" she started, but got cut off by Natasha's phone buzzing on the nightstand.

"Fuck" Natasha cursed before turning around to check who it was- and if she can ignore it.

The name on the screen was definitely a sight she could not ignore.

"Just a second baby, it's my boss" she said as she pulled herself up to answer the phone. by doing so, Natasha missed wanda's guilty lip bite.

----------------------ᱬ----------------------

That's how things went for another month. In this month Natasha got the promotion she wanted which meant she was enthusiastic for days later- and Wanda couldn't bear the thought of ruining it for her.

And that's how it went overtime.

Every time Wanda manage to muster enough courage to tell Natasha whatever she wanted to say, something happened and ruined it.

But jean Racine was indeed right: 'there are no secrets that time does not reveal', and unfortunately for both women, wanda's secret got revealed in a rather unpleasant and awkward situation.

It was a pretty normal day for Natasha.

Or at least it started as one. she spent the night at Wanda's again, which means she had a hard time leaving bed in the morning but she managed it so now, a few hours later, she was having lunch at a deserted meeting room with a few friends from the office

"hey, nat.. is that your girlfriend??" Sam asked, his eyes following a girl who passes near the glass door.

"Wanda?" Natasha asked him confused.

They weren't supposed to meet today for lunch, didn't they?

"Do you have another girlfriend I'm not aware of?" He asked

"Shut up Wilson, why would Wanda be here!?"

"I don't know Romanoff, she's your girlfriend. All I can say is that she seemed to be in a deep conversation with Sharon"

"Carter?"

"the one and only" Carol whispered and Gamora rolled her eyes at the girl.

"Will you stop being weird?" Gamora asked and Carol shook her head.

"Why would she have a conversation with Sharon fucking Carter" Natasha asked confused

"Maybe you should ask her...?” the man asked

"Oh shit I think they're coming over here, pretend to be busy," Carol said as she dived back into her salad.

The others do the same as well.

A few moments later the glass door was pulled open by Sharon.

Her smile wide.

"Hey guys" Sharon said as she opened the door and git into the room, wanda following behind-

Probably unaware of her girlfriend's presence until moments later when their eyes met.

Wanda looked like she was about to die.

"Wanda?" Natasha asked. Her eyebrows knitted together.

"Wait, You know each other?" Sharon asked as she turned to the brunette

"Yeah-" she started

"How do you guys know each other" Natasha cut her girlfriend off. Her eyes were still wide with confusion.

"We're cousins" the blonde explained and Wanda bit her lip.

Natasha stared at her girlfriend, hoping to get an explanation from her.

"Wait how do you to know each other"

"She's my girlfriend," Wanda said softly as Natasha got up from her chair.

Sharon's eyes were wide "didn't see that coming" she muttered

"Tell me about that" Natasha said, more to her girlfriend than to her boss.

"I'm going out for a smoke," she said simply before leaving the room.

"Nat-" Wanda started as she followed her, leaving the other remaining members of the room confused.

"Really?" Sharon asked again.

"Well, that was something," sam said and gamora nodded.

"That's classic," Carol said as she quietly laughed to herself

Meanwhile, at the elevator, things were going less smoothly for the couple.

"You're my boss's niece and you didn't think about telling me this?" Natasha shot at Wanda as the elevator door opened and the two went outside.

"I was trying to tell you, nat. I swear. That was the thing I tried to tell you about this whole month But every time I tried to something happened" Wanda explained as Natasha lit her cigarette.

"Why didn't you say anything when we started dating and got to know each other?" Natasha asked.

The lawyer wasn't sure if she was more hurt by the fact Wanda kept this secret from her or terrified by the fact she was dating her boss's niece

"Because I didn't want you to look at me the way you look at me right now" Wanda defended herself.

"How do I look at you wanda?" Natasha asked hurt.

"Like I'm no longer the same artsy girl you met at the bar" Wanda whispered

Natasha laughed bitterly

"Come on Wanda you know I don't give a shit about it. I love you and the fact you're a carter won't change it. You are the same artsy girl from the bar, who happened to be my boss's nephew. You should've said something."

"You're right, I shouldn't have kept this away from you. It was destined to get out eventually and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you" Wanda took the cigarette out of Natasha's lips.

"I made a mistake and I can't change it."

Wanda continued and Natasha sigh

"I wanted you to know me, and I was scared you'll judge me or see me as a carter like most people do."

Wanda put her hand on Natasha's cheek and Natasha kissed her palm, encouraging her to continue her speech.

"Fuck, nat, I'm not even in this business- yeah they're my family but that's it. the only other connection I have to this firm is the fact I'm in love with one of its lawyers" Natasha's eyes lit up and Wanda blushed furiously.

"You're in love with me?" Natasha asked as she played pulled her girlfriend closer, A small cocky smile on her lips as Wanda rolled her eyes

"For someone so fucking smart you can be so dense sometimes," Wanda said and Natasha laughed "Of course I do moron."

"I love you too," Natasha said before kissing Wanda softly on the lips.

"Can you forgive me, then?"

"It depends," Natasha said with the best poker straight face she could muster.

"On?" Wanda asked with her eyebrow raised.

"Is there any other relative- who can fire my ass, I need to know about?"

Wanda smiled kissed Natasha's lips deeply.

"No!" She said when they broke away and the two laughed.

Natasha wiped away the younger woman's tears before kissing her lips again. This time softly.

"Good, now if you don't mind maximoff. My break's over and I should really get back before your cousin will fire my ass"

"Well technically.. she's my cousin in law, I'm peggy's grandchild, adopted one, and she's her nephew" Wanda explained

"Can she fire my ass?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well.. yeah..?"

"Then my point still stands.

"Shut up Romanoff! you and I both know Sharon won't' fire your ass' because you're the best lawyer in this damn place" wanda argued

"Who fucks her cousin..-"

"You're right.. she might fire you" wanda joked and took her girlfriend's hand in hers.

"Or murder me" Natasha continued as her girlfriend pulled her back into the building and to the elevator.

"Yeah" Wanda laughed when they got into the elevator and the doors closed.

Wanda kissed Natasha's lips softly before pressing the button of their destined floor. "Or murder you"

[yeojaa]

home sweet home.

[ read devil in a new suit ]

i just really, really wanted to explore a bit about kook’s family because i think it shines a big light on who this adorable baby is.  i hope you enjoy!  xo

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  you’ll get cavities from reading this, honestly.  but also, very light smut in the form of:  inappropriate bullet egg use and tit groping (again, kook is a boob guy).  wc.  1.7k.

You meet his parents on a Sunday afternoon, invited to their palatial home for family brunch. It’s the first one you’ve been invited to, despite the fact you and Jungkook have been dating for what feels like forever (but in reality is only six months).  

Mama Jeon is an intimidating woman with a deceptively sweet face, aging gracefully around her eyes, the barely there lines upon her hands doing little to detract from her beauty.  She holds herself with immeasurable grace, practically dances into her son’s embrace when the two of you step into the modernist’s dream, chicly decorated and swathed in neutral tones.  It reminds you vaguely of Jungkook’s apartment - but decidedly more refined.  Same colour palette, though. 

“Jungkook-ah,”  she hums, patting adoringly at his cheek when he passes a kiss against hers, looking every inch the mama’s boy he is. 

“Eomma,”  he returns, so giddy it makes your heart soar in your chest.  He’s so easy to love - and so easily loving, offering the world to the woman who’d raised and loved him.  Two hands - the picture of respect - pass over the box of pastries you’d picked up on your way, the bag of too-expensive fruit topping the container.  (Apparently, his mother loves grapes, but only green ones.)  “These are for you— from us.”

Now is when he gestures to you - standing just to the side, beyond his shoulder - with a flourish comparable to that of a game show host.  It’s adorable how eager he is, beaming proudly at his eomma as he reaches for your hand, squeezes it tight between his own tattooed one.

When she turns to you, her expression is inscrutable. 

This woman isn’t someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, offers pleasantries for the sake of it.  She’s confident and critical (but soft, somehow, for the people she loves most), forged from steel and refined by experience.  You’re simultaneously awed and afraid, a mixture of emotion you’re not quite used to.

She levels you with a look.  A moment passes, then another.  You wonder if your smile falters, eclipsed by the grey of her stare.  (You feel like that one girl from that one movie about those crazy rich… what was it?)  

Finally, she speaks, drags her eyes from your shoes - red Ferragamo pumps, with the signature bow detailing on the toe - up to your face.  It feels more like a stringent assessment than a casual perusal, stirring heat beneath the colour of your blouse.  You’re not nervous, per se, but you want her to like you.  Right now, you can’t tell if she does - probably have a higher chance of winning the lottery than getting an answer.  “Lovely to meet you, ____.”  Her tone is warm enough, polite and paired with a tiny nod of her sophisticat head.

The patriarch of the family is the opposite of his mother, endlessly genial and full of booming laughter.  It reminds you a little of Jungkook’s own giggle, but somehow more - rounded by years and years of full-belly laughing and further ingrained by the wrinkles around his eyes.  

Just like his mother, Mr. Jeon is slim, good-looking in a way that comes from proper self-care and living an easy life.  (Not that it’d always been this way, you remind yourself.  Jungkook had told you how hard his parents had worked - all the long hours his father had put into getting where he was, able to support his wife and two children.)  He encourages his son’s stories and looks fondly at his daughter - the spitting image of her mother, with the same round stare as Jungkook.  

When your bowl runs empty, he makes sure it’s refilled, nodding in approval when his son is the one to make it happen.  When his wife makes an off-hand comment in response to a story, he’s the one to chide her, however gently.  He’s not nearly as sharp as she is, softly rounded edges like the toe of his slippers, the natural sag of his jaw with time.  

(You get it now. Meeting his parents for the first time, juxtaposed so hilariously against each other, it all makes sense.  Who Jungkook is, how he is equal parts soft and yielding and hesitant and distant.  Why he smiles so freely - with wrinkles you see aged nearly three decades in his father’s face - but loves so tenderly, offering it with whispers of affection that you might miss, should you look away.)

His father asks you questions like he really cares, nodding thoughtfully each time he learns a little bit more about you.

“How did you two meet?”  He’s bright-eyed, curious over the coffee mug he sandwiches in his grip.  You imagine he’s heard the story - must have heard some form of it in passing from Jungkook - but you appreciate his interest nonetheless.  He just wants to see the perspective from someone other than his lovestruck son.

You can’t help but laugh, sucking in your cheeks like you always do when you’re contemplative.  Jungkook shifts at your side, drops his inked palm over your covered knee and squeezes.  You’re not sure whether he’s reassuring you or himself with the gesture.

“He actually kept coming into my store.”  It’s not a lie.  Certainly not as scandalous as the full truth, but a truth nonetheless.  That is how you’d met.  

“Your store?”  It’s Jisoo, curious and pretty from her seat where she’s still picking at the desserts you’d brought over.  (She’s a fan of tart and tangy flavours, unlike her brother.)  “Do you own a shop or something?”

You wonder how much she knows.  You know she’s younger than either you or your partner, a student at Korea National University.  Part of their dance program, if you’re not mistaken.  You’d heard all about it a few weeks ago, when she’d sent a video to Jungkook and he’d raved about it nonstop, so proud of his little sister you couldn’t even make fun of him.

“I work at CELINE.”  

That earns a noise of delight from Jisoo (together with an “oh my god, that’s so cool”) and a polite albeit disinterested nod from Mr. Jeon (if his nondescript but stylish clothes are any indication, luxury fashion isn’t his top priority).  

What you don’t expect - what you just barely not from the corner of your eye - is the surprise written across Mrs. Jeon’s expression.  As if she’s just learned something groundbreaking.  

“You have a job?”  Maybe she doesn’t mean it how it comes out, disbelieving and abrupt.  You don’t let it rub you the wrong way, nodding.  (You know where she’s coming from - you feel the same way about his exes as she does, it seems.)  She’s hardly looking at you now, though, gaze trained on her beloved son.  There’s a silent conversation happening between them - something you’re not privy to, an exchange held only with those matching eyes of theirs.  

He’s upon you the moment he climbs into his car, clumsily knocking against the centre console as he drags your body closer, forces your knees apart with his hand unceremoniously shoved all the way into your silk crepe trousers. 

“She likes you.”  The words are muffled against your lips - already spit slick and swollen by how savagely he attacks them, tugs your bottom between his teeth and nibbles.  

You know he means his mother.  She’d hugged you on your way out, patted gently at your upper arm when she’d sent you both off with some leftovers in pretty ceramic containers.  It’d been a surprising farewell from the woman who had otherwise kept you at arm’s length through most of brunch, offering small smiles and exchanging only the basest of pleasantries.  

You have to admit - it feels a bit like taming a lion.  You’re high on the feeling and it seems Jungkook is too, utterly delighted as he drags his finger through the arousal that’s all but ruined your thong, thin material shoved aside by his deft movements.

“Your sister?”  You laugh - sound bitten off by the edge of your teeth when he teases at your folds, presses the tip of his fingers over your clit and circles back enough times to make you shudder.

He’s sucking into the sensitive spot beneath your ear, catching your earlobe with the wet point of his canines.  “My mom,”  he mumbles, burying himself into your skin as if he’d happily live there, make a home between your bones if you’d let him.  (You would.)  “She hugged you.”  Hilariously enough, he sounds just as surprised as you.

“She did,”  you hum - sigh when the pressure in your abdomen increases, mirroring the same one between your legs.  He’s pulling gently at the cord peeking past your lips, tugging at the smooth pink egg snug within your pussy.  It’s not on now - not like it had been all through brunch - but it still feels absurdly good, perfectly shaped just the right amount of stimulation against your fluttering walls.

Jungkook makes the softest noise, one that sounds like his heart falling into place, his soul settling where it feels most comfortable.  It’s at odds with the way he gropes your chest over the smocked bodice of your blouse, seeking out the hardened bud of your nipple beneath layers of chiffon and macrame.

The tiny vibrator continues fucking into you, muscle walls clenching around it each time he yanks on the cord and then lets it fall back into place.  You wish it were his fingers (wish it were his cock, more than that) but your pants fit too-well, tailored slim around your waist and flaring over your ankles. 

Your 70’s pants, as your silly boyfriend liked to call them.

“I can’t wait to get you home.”  It’s so dreamy, hazy with affection that overwhelms you.  He’s looking at you so sweetly now, forehead resting against yours, entire palm pressed to your cunt.  “K-knew you were always perfect but—”  You lose sight of his lovely doe eyes, your own sliding closed when he stamps a kiss to your mouth, so terribly sweet it’s reminiscent of the cheesecake you’d just had.  

You understand what he means without him having to finish the thought, smile of your own acting as the ending punctuation to your conversation. 

Family means everything to him.  Now, you were one step closer to being part of it.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​​ @codeinebelle​​

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Old Friends

Dark confronts (Y/n) about their decision to stay with Mark. (Y/n) loses their shit.

At first you thought you might be dreaming. But no, this felt too real. You had had horrific nightmares many times since leaving that mirror, but there had always been something, some little niggling thought, that told you that everything would be okay. That when you woke up you would be safe in your lover’s arms. But not this time. This time fear ensnared you like a serpent, its grip becoming tighter and tighter. 

Most of the space around you was nothing but darkness. But in front of you there was a desk, a plush chair on either side of it. Few items adorned that desk, one being a simple lamp, the only source of light in oppressive blackness. But it didn’t put you at ease, instead making you think of the deepest parts of the ocean where no sunlight can reach. And as if by magic, a small speck of light appears. And it’s the last thing you see before being swallowed whole and ripped apart. Two empty wine glasses and a metal pitcher sat in the centre, as if they were waiting. 

A voice rang through the darkness, “Take a seat.”

You knew that voice. Regardless of how long it had been, you would never be able to forget it. It was burned into your mind like a brand. A good chunk of you wanted so desperately to run from it. But there was nowhere to go. With a reluctance that was sure to be noticed, you sat down on one of the chairs and waited. And when you heard his footsteps you made the conscious effort not to look at him, to stare into space with nothing but aloofness written on your face. 

The footsteps stopped, but he didn’t sit. Instead he picked up the pitchers and filled them up to the brim. Then he sat, picking up the wine glass and taking a sip, miraculously not spilling a single drop as he did so. 

“It’s been a while, old friend.” He put the glass down as he said this, again not spilling any of the wine. 

You couldn’t resist. You brought your eyes up to stare at him. “Hello Damien.” 

That sounded wrong. You wondered if the thing sitting in front of you even was Damien anymore. It looked like him. He had changed your old body to look like he had when he. . .  was still him, much like Mark had done when he had stolen Damien’s own body. But somehow you knew that the scars remained, imprinted on that body in a way that was impossible to get rid of. His skin was grey, and he carried an aura of darkness with him wherever he went. Blue and red outlined his form, and a ringing followed him. A ringing that could signal his arrival to anyone, but by the time they heard it it would be too late to run from him. 

“How’s Celine?” You didn’t really care about her, but you needed to know if she was in there, listening to what you were saying and puppeting the body when it spoke to you.

“She’s sleeping.”

Good thing too if he was telling the truth, for you couldn’t promise that you wouldn’t launch yourself over the table to attack her if she was the one sitting in front of you. Anger and hatred for her outweighed fear and caution any day of the week. And as for Damien. . . You couldn’t tell where your feelings for him stood. Something in you was so happy to see his face and hear his voice, but that fear that had gripped you before he had sat down was still there.. And that was on top of no small storm of anger that was brewing in your gut. Part of you wanted to hurt him, trap him, isolate him.

You resented him. 

He had left you. 

You were glad you had accepted the seat now, all these emotions were making your head spin. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. You could sense that the oncoming conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant. And being situated on one side of a desk reminded you of when you were young and getting into trouble at school, with the headmaster towering over you on the other side while he scolded you. But the thought that he had the nerve to talk down to you only made that anger even worse. 

“How could you?”

Your eyes snapped open. Damien looked. . . sad. And angry. Good. You hoped that he was feeling as many conflicting emotions as you were. You wanted him to be as torn up as you were. 

You wanted to know if leaving you had hurt him. You hoped it had. You hoped that his mind would occasionally drift to you trapped in that mirror and the knife would twist. You hoped that sometimes he would idly trace that scar where you had been shot and think of you. 

“How could I?” you asked, raising your nails to your mouth to bite them.

It was a horrible habit you had picked up recently, but you couldn’t seem to stop. Mark had tried everything to get you to quit your nasty habit but to no avail.

Damien spoke again, seeming to sense how your thoughts drifted towards Mark, “Handling venomous snakes is dangerous. Eventually they turn on you. Eventually they’ll bite.”

Debatable.

He was referring to your relationship with Mark. Asking you how you could still be with him after everything he’d done. And though it was the wrong moment, you threw your head back and laughed. The sound all but drowned out the ringing, and you could feel Damien’s eyebrow raise as he looked at you unamused. But you couldn’t help it. The idea that he could cast judgement on Mark after what Damien and Celine had done was so hysterical that you couldn’t help but laugh. Your laughter eventually toned down into giggles.

“You’re not exactly blameless Damien,” you got out between the giggles that you were trying desperately to stifle.

He leaned forward. “He betrayed us. All of us.” In those words you could hear the cold anger that shone out through the cracks of his calm facade. 

The anger that spurred him on, that kept him alive in that dead broken body that had once been yours. If that anger for Mark disappeared, would Damien and Celine’s souls move on? You hoped that Celine would burn in hell. But Damien. . . though not blameless, you wanted his soul to be put at rest. But as of right now, there was no way to do that. The being in front of you had one purpose: destroy Mark. It would not rest until that purpose was fulfilled. 

You pointed an accusatory finger. “He betrayed you. And Celine. And William. He never betrayed me.”

You angrily picked up your glass, the dark red liquid sloshing over the sides and running down your fingers. You threw it back, draining every last drop of it. You slammed the glass down, and when you saw the look on his face you had to stop. There was so much disgust written on him that you wanted to shrink back. 

“So you’ll overlook everything he’s done?”

“That’s what it looks like.” You reached forward, pouring the wine to the halfway point of the glass. Your fingers were sticky and red where the wine had spilled, resembling how they had looked when William had shot you. “What is this Damien? A reunion between friends? A lecture? A warning before the torture begins? An attempt to get me on your side? Or maybe you’re trying to get me on my hands and knees to beg for forgiveness from you?”

That disgust on his face deepened. “I half expected you to get out of that mirror by yourself. You’ve always been stubborn.” He picked his own glass back up and took another drink, this one a long drag from the glass as opposed to the previous conservative sips. “I suppose I had let my expectations of you grow too high.”

Asshole.

“You were in that house. You uncovered his little plot. His betrayal. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that not only was that snake not alone anymore, but he had my good friend the District Attorney was warming his bed.”

“Well you can imagine my surprise when I realised that my best friend had fucked off and left me alone.”

“That mirror was a prison of the Actor’s own making.”

You took another sip. “Yes it was. But just because I forgave him doesn’t mean I absolve him of the blame. No one that day was blameless.”

Damien maintained his calm demeanor. You should have too, you had been the District Attorney once. But you were over one hundred years out of practice. It was an effort not to let all of those emotions out, not to lose your cool with him. Truly lose it.

“He’s the reason you were stuck.”

Fuck remaining calm. And fuck fear. You tossed the wine glass to the side, bits of glass going flying on the ground next to you.  

You slammed your hand down on the desk, the noise ringing out through the darkness. “You did that. You and Celine. Don’t you dare sit there and try to rid yourself of the blame. And the only reason he did any of those things is because your own sister - the woman he loved - betrayed him without even giving him a thought. And not just with any old Tom, Dick or Harry, but with his own brother. And you knew! And you-” you stopped, beginning to choke up as you thought about it. “You left me.”

Damien looked down at the desk, as if ashamed. He had been thinking of you, had admitted to it in an insulting manner. But even if he had thought about you every single day, it didn’t change the fact that he had let you rot in that mirror for a hundred years. He had never come back once. And he had the nerve to be angry that you had clung to Mark like a lifeline when he had gotten you out. Had the nerve to be angry that you had fallen in love with each other.

“You kicked me out of my own body, left me trapped there. And you never came back. I was alone for so long Damien. And you never came back.”

And when he looked back up at you, there was something like true pain in his eyes. The same kind of pain that had been in Mark’s eyes when he had come for you. But you just didn’t have it in you to feel sorry for him right now. Because that pain had never been strong enough to make him come and get you. 

“Mark did. Late. But he came back. And you know what makes that hurt even more?” You took another deep breath, steadying yourself and trying so damn hard not to cry. “You were my first love Damien. You were my best friend. And I waited for you to come back for me for so long.” A tear trickled down your cheek. “It was a vain hope, but it made me strong enough to go on for a long time.” Another tear fell.

And Damien, god damn him, reached out a grey hand to wipe the tear away. Like he had done so many times in the past.  And then he reached down and touched your hand. He was as cold as death. You rose from the chair, unable to sit still any longer, and before you knew it Damien was in front of you, holding you to his chest like he was afraid you would disappear in a puff of smoke. You clutched his biceps tightly, not wanting to wrap your arms around him, but still wanting to make sure he was truly there. 

And you were still so fucking angry at him. You always would be. But unleashing all that pain on him had cleared you out, and the other feelings you had came into play. You had missed him so much.

Your heart ached. You were afraid that it might split in half, shatter like that mirror. You loved Damien. You loved him so much even after everything.

But you loved Mark more.

“Things can never go back to the way they were can they?” Despair laced his voice, breaking your heart even further.

 “No, they can’t. I’m not even sure I would want them too.” You allowed one arm to snake around Damien’s chest, the other hand still maintaining a tight grip on his bicep. “Mark did a terrible thing. But so did you. So did Celene and William.”       

Damien buried his head into your shoulder, whispering his next words, “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Another tear fell. 

“Neither did he,” you whispered back. “And he was the one that dragged me out.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed there in the abyss holding each other, tears flowing freely.

And it killed you to do this, but you planted your hand on his chest and pushed him away. Because as much as you wanted to stay there with him a little while longer, you could never take his side. And as much as you wanted to remember the man who you had been in love with, you knew that the being in front of you would never be him. He had changed in an irreversible way, consumed by hate and revenge.

But you had changed too. 

“Goodbye Damien.”

“Goodbye (y/n).”

You blinked, and you were back in one of the manor’s bathrooms, hands gripping the sink like a vice, the fingers on one of them still sticky with red wine. 

[hot-wiings]

Leave An Ask Or Comment To Be Added To A Specific Characters Taglist.

Edited: 7-28-20

You paced the floor of your dorm room back and forth as you impatiently waited for a knock on your door. You held a stick in one hand, one that displayed two positive lines. In your other hand was your phone, displaying an urgent text to your boyfriend, Inasa Yoarashi.

We need to talk! It's important... [Sent: 2:34 PM]

Your phone displayed that he'd seen and opened your text, but you'd gotten no response from him. From the tone of your text, it sounded like you wanted to break up, but the contents of what you needed to tell him were much more heart wrenching and serious than that.

There was a knock on your door and you knew it was him. After years of dating Inasa, you could recognize the way he knocks on your door.

You walked up to your door and unlocked it for him to come in. You quickly moved the hand holding the stick behind your back. You knew it was stupid, you called him over here to tell him in the first place, but now that it was facing you in the face you were scared.

"Hey, are you okay? I heard you were sent to your dorm and excused from your classes because you were ill."

Your heart ached at the words you had to tell him. He was so worried for you, and you feared the bomb you were dropping on him would ruin the relationship you had, but he is your boyfriend and the father of the baby in your womb. He had to know.

"I'm... I'm pregnant."

The words just tumbled out with a stutter and there was no taking them back. The truth was out there for Inasa to take however he pleased.

"What...?"

"I'm pregnant! There is a baby inside me. Your baby."

"You... You can't be. We were careful! We always used protection."

"Accidents happen, with or without condoms. The only one hundred percent protection is abstinence."

You quietly looked at the floor as you let him process the bomb you dropped on him.

"We can't keep it, you know that right?"

"They're not an it, it's a them... For now at least until I get an ultrasound."

"You're thinking of keeping it? You can't be serious! What about our careers, your career. You won't go to school, you'll never become a hero. You'll spend the rest of your days, picking up trash and waiting tables, your life will be over."

You picked up your eyes from the ground and faced your lover. The hatred and hurt could be seen in your eyes. They were glassy, and tearful, but what Inasa said was too late to take back.

"Six hundred, sixty-four thousand, four hundred, and thirty-five babies are lost to abortion each year. Sure, maybe those women were living in poverty, but I'm not. I have the means to take care of the life growing in my belly. I made the decision to sleep with you, therefore I have to own up to my responsibility."

"No one would blame you if you got rid of it. You have a career to think about. Fuck, you're a Todoroki, your business is everyone's business, you have a reputation to think about."

"I don't give a shit about my Todoroki status! Did you know Steve Jobs was almost aborted? One of the smartest men in the world. Did you know Celine Dion was almost aborted? She was her mother's 14th child and she wasn't sure she could handle it, but she did, and now her daughter inspires people through lyrics. If you don't want this baby, then our hearts will go on fine without you."

"[Y/N]..."

You avoided his eyes and pointed to the door. Maybe you were just being emotional and overreacting to him, but you knew you had to have this child, with or without his help.

"You should leave."

As you watch Inasa walk out your door one thing was for certain in your mind. This baby would grow up without having to worry about financial support from Inasa or Enji. Single mothers all over the world were surviving, so could you.

Inasa stood outside your dorm room. Your door was wide open and there were boxes scattered around. You were scrambling about, folding clothes up and sorting items to boxes and bags.

"Hey..."

Your eyes flashed up to see Inasa. Shock flashed your face before quickly looking down at the box you were trying to fit clothes in.

"Hi... What are you going here?"

"I... I heard you were dropping out of school."

"Well, the school board made it known that I'm not welcome here pregnant."

Instinctively, your hands went to the small but noticeable baby bump. Inasas followed your hands and he stared down at the bump bulging out of your stomach. His child was in there. His child. A literally baby.

"How'd Enji take the news?"

"I cut ties to my father once my pregnancy was leaked to the tabloids. He was angry that I tarnished his name, I couldn't really give a shit."

You taped up the last box and made a movement to pick it up but Inasa swooped in front of you and lifted it before you could. He gave you a very sheepish expression.

"It's bad for the baby."

"Thought they were an it?"

"[Y/N], I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that. It was irresponsible and out of line. You have to understand why I freaked... Babies require a lot of attention and needs. They have to be thought out and planned, that being said I've had time to think."

Inasa placed the box on the ground and knelt in front of you. He grabbed your hand cautious and carefully in case you rejected his display of affection. He placed a ring box in your palm as he started reciting the speech he prepared.

"I want to take responsibility. I want to be in this baby's life. I want to be in your life. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else... We can get a house and other mundane things. You can go back to school afterward. I want to do this together... If you'll have me."

"Inasa... Yes. Yes, I'll have you."

The months leading up to the final trimester of your pregnancy went great. You and Inasa found a three-bedroom apartment for a cheap price, and you even found a school that would take you despite the fact you'd be a teenage mother. UA high said it wouldn't be any issues considering you only had to finish up one semester, and the handwritten recommendation from your brother, Shouto, a stellar top student at UA put you into good graces.

"Do you want any tea?"

You looked up from your book to see your brother peering down at you with a soft smile.

During the process of your pregnancy, your brother really helped out. Shouto was constantly there for you when Inasa was gone. He forced you to be on bed rest while he retrieved things like entertainment and food for you. Truthfully, your mood swings scared him a little bit.

"I'm good Shouto, have a seat you don't have to cater to my every need."

"Tea is good for the baby."

"Your brother is right. When I was pregnant with you I'd drink a cup of chamomile every night."

Your mother walked into the room and took a seat by your feet. Ever since your mother was released from the mental institution she'd been living with you and Inasa. She'd been very supportive and nice over the pregnancy. She'd been very motherly, the kind of motherly you'd missed out in your childhood, but she was making up for lost time now.

You smiled at your mother when you felt a warm trickle at your legs. You grasped the now huge bump on your stomach as you gasped.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Your brother was by your side in a minute, concern and worry displayed on his face as you turned to him with just as much panic.

"My water broke."

"What? But your not due til next week!"

"I don't think she gives a shit, because my water just broke."

Your mother blatantly ignores your brother's freak out and calmly knelt next to you.

"Sweetheart, we're hours away from any hospitals, if your having the baby your gonna have to give birth here."

"This baby wasn't planned in the first place, neither should the delivery. Let's do it."

"Shouto, get me some buckets of water, clean towels, and pillows."

Your mother helped you adjust your body so you were in a birthing position.

"You need to stay in this position until your dilated enough to push. Take deep breaths. I'll have your brother call Inasa."

You started to feel cramps and pain. Immense pain as your mother walked away and talked to your brother. Shortly, she returned with a grim expression.

"Inasa is stuck at his internship. They won't let him leave."

"Okay. It's okay. I have you. I have Shouto. It's okay."

Your mother guided you through the process of birth-giving. She helped you get into positions that would help induce a faster birthing.

"You need to take a deep breath and push. I can see the head nearing. Just give me one more big push."

Exhaustedly, you pushed just as your apartment door swung open.

"Where is she? Is she okay?"

The urgent sound of Inasa resounded throughout the apartment as Shouto directed him to you.

"I'm here. I'm here."

"What about your internship?"

"Screw them, I said I wanted to be in this together! My daughter is being birthed, I'm not missing it."

With one last push, your mother pulled your daughter out of you. She sniped the ambiblical cord and cleaned her up before wrapping the baby in the clean towels and bringing her around for you and Inasa to hold.

As you looked down at your precious bundle of joy you squeezed Inasas hand. Months ago you thought you'd be alone with this, you were scared and frightened but you weren't alone. You had Inasa, your brother, and your mother. They weren't going anywhere.

[disisphlebotinum]

Baht Oyunu - Episode 1

Smells like potential.

We’re talking to the camera in this one.

Her family fears first love more than anything?

SHE FULL ON RUN THAT COUPLE DOWN!!!

I kind of like the song in the opening credits.

6 months ago this girl was really lying to herself.

Wait, they are married?!?! I’m so confused.

This guy is so gross and so rude. That whole bit about the ring I could have done without.

The translation on the video I’m watching sometimes just has ??????????????????????????????.

I don’t think this dude even likes her.

I like her friend. Her friend’s being honest.

I’m not trying to compare everything in Turkish to SCK, but you cannot tell me that the first thought wasn’t Serkan Bolat when the dude driving the car showed up. He looks like he could play Kerem’s younger brother.

Does that count as first slowmo?

This isn’t against the scene or tropes. I just really don’t enjoy second hand embarrassment and that is all that chick and the suave dude were giving me. Is that meant to be a blind date?

Oh I get it now. If her first love leaves her then she will be unhappy for the rest of her life. I guess in the long run we are going to learn that she never actually loved him? We know he definitely doesn’t love her.

Oh great this dude is an ass too.

This shit about meat is not for me.

He doesn’t need a date, he needs a mirror.

I don’t think there is a man in the world handsome enough that they could convince me to eat raw meat for the first time in 15 years.

I think I hate this guy. I’m glad his date made a scene.

I do like her telling him he is soulless and deserving.

Damn. They do have chemistry.

I wish I could have understood the insults she called him. I’m not going to complain about the translation. I know they did the best they could. I’m just bringing it up to explain that there is some context missing for me.

I literally forgot about this dude, the one Ada is married to.

Is this present day? Are we on our way to run a dude over?!

I love when they say “bye bye”

Damn Ada is good at lying to herself.

So the chick that Ada’s husband is kissing is a close friend of the ass that got her friend? We’re so messy already! Oh he works for him! That’s so much weirder!

I hope he gets to see Ada run them down.

Oh she didn’t hit them! He hit her! I did not see that coming.

I am enjoying her yelling at him for being an idiot way too much. Like marriage and a few kids later too much.

JUST TAKE HIS DAMN HAND

For a selfish asshole he is kind of taking good care of her, while her husband drools over other people in the bath. Nice! I want his earbud to fall into the tub.

His excuse for being a poohead is that she loves everything too much and works too hard? Never mind, it’s just that another girl is more beautiful and more talented than she is. Fuck this guy.

I’m saying it now, if they make me watch this show where this couple with chemistry get close to getting married, but don’t survive the first wedding, I am rage quitting.

I need people to stop telling Celine to shut up. She is the only one who speaks to Ada with any kind of sense.

I’m too distracted by them arguing in his office to think of anything to type.

Ew. I hate Ada suggesting she change herself to be more like another girl for a guy. That all just here.

I love her ripping the lock off the door to just read to him. That was adorable. The fact that he looked almost amused felt nice, but I knew he was going to trash it.

I don’t know why he isn’t surprised someone took a video of him being a dick at the restaurant.

What does Bursa mean? Is that a place?

She really threw his shit out the window.

These aunts are going to kill his guy. The aunts showed up. We went from crying to having some food to literally bouncing on a dude’s stomach.

I wish she hadn’t had to blackmail her way to a job, but I appreciate that she is clever when it is not about the idiot who I hope isn’t too big a part of the show.

[angelicfantasies]

@leobashi here because I was asleep when you awnsered. Can you guess who Tragedy is?;)

Celine's first interaction with the non-human was actually when Tragedy himself started courting her, she was uninterested, already being in a relationship she was more than satisfied with, but curious and started researching the demonic. Although she stayed respectful Tragedy wouldn't take no for an answer so William became Wilford and her brother is now barely hanging onto life.

When she moved in with Chase, it was out of nessecity: split rent would make it easier to pay for Damien's hospitalization and having a human presence around her might be a little refreshing considering her line of work. The moment his ex wife started harassing Chase over "already having found someone to replace her" she quick to put her back in place and surprised at how much she cared about the man. She hadn't expected to see the brunette as a younger brother (not a replacement, she wouldn't replace Damien for anything) but she wouldn't have it any other way.

When she had to go out of town Chase called his friend Jack over a lot and sometimes they'd go out together.

They were at a party but Chase honestly couldn't remember what they were celebrating. At some point someone mentioned fucking around with demon magic being a normal party thing and he thought of Celine and all the stuff she had that could be used for that. Apparently it didn't stay a thought because now they were headed to his place. Once there he passed out on the couch trusting Jack to make sure they didn't fuck around too much.

When he wakes up it's in an unfamiliar place surrounded by a bunch of hot men who tell him they're demons and he's in hell.

Meanwhile Celine receives a text from a very drunk Jack that they made Chase disappear with a picture of a sloppily put together ritual circle. Stars, please give her the strength to not gut the guy as soon as she sees him.

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Happy Birthday to Me Pt 9

I slapped my face a couple of times and shook it hard to clear myself up.  When we went back to join the others we found that they had already cut the cake and had started to eat it. A-Yuan was demanding everyone eat some.

“It’s so yummy!!” he said happily. And then he looked over and saw me coming back and scrambled over to me as fast as he could with a piece of cake. 

“Xian-Ge! You have to!” he said, offering a forkful of the cake to me. I crouched down and gobbled up the bite with a loud “OMN” sound, making him giggle.

As I knew it would be, the cake was the most delicious cake ever created.

“Lan Zhan, you have to taste this!” I said, offering him a bit off the same fork. I barely finished my sentence before he’d taken the bite, not even bothering to take the fork out of my hands.

And then as I was considering the fact that I’d accidentally created a cliche ‘indirect kiss’ situation, the asshole had to go and lick his lips in the sexiest display I have ever seen in my life. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

I managed to smile at him as he nodded his approval at me. I REALLY hope he hasn’t noticed how much I was blushing that day. Ugh. I’m a mess. 

I took Lan Zhan’s hand after that and decided we should officially rejoin the party. Walking turned into challenge mode as it often did when A-Yuan was around, because he grabbed onto my jeans as I walked. 

I’ve had more than one close call with that kid in regards to almost kicking him in the damn face. Ugh.

I stood a bit behind Lan Zhan to hopefully hide how red and gross my eyes were from all that crying. Fortunately everyone was further distracted by SangSang asking for the first brave soul to go up to sing. 

Unwilling to stop touching Lan Zhan, I pulled on his shoulders a bit so I could rest my chin on them. I pressed my cheek against his neck and asked him what he was going to sing. 

He shrugged, which was weird with my head on his shoulders but I was not to be dislodged. This close I could feel the heat coming off his poor red ears. 

I decided NOT to remind him that this was HIS idea. XD

Surprisingly enough, it was DaGe who stomped up on stage first. Never would have pegged him as the musical type!

He further shocked and wowed the crowd by not only singing something from Frank Sinatra, or at least something that sounds like him ( I have no idea what singer sings what. Don’t AT me!) but singing it WELL! He’s got this really deep like slightly raspy kind of voice when he sings. It sounded so GOOD! Talk about a tough act to follow! Fuck I thought karaoke was supposed to be for people BAD at singing!

His song ended up competing against uproarious cheers and whoops, led by Lan Xichen and the kids who easily out-shouted us. (For such a quiet man, Lan Xichen has some PIPES when he wants to be loud!)

A-Ling and A-Yuan somehow ended up on the little podium with him so that they could cheer and dance around him. I can’t imagine they cared either way for the song, but they definitely enjoyed the excuse to scream. Clearly amused, DaGe knelt down to sing TO them, much to their delight. I couldn’t help but laugh as Wen Ning even joined in, pulling the kids a bit further away for safety and twirling in a circle with them in some fun made up dance. 

The song finally ended with a flourish and a bow and much more screaming. When he looked up he seemed to lock eyes with Lan Zhan who immediately looked ready to just book it. He looked even more prepared to bolt when SangSang joined his brother on the stage. 

And just like those creepy twins from The Shining, they asked Lan Zhan to sing with them. 

And not just sing

Oh no.

They asked him to sing Celine Dion with them. 

I may or may not have secretly taken a picture on my phone that I will cherish forever. Just sayin.

He didn’t move at all until Lan Xichen practically shoved him up there. He looked at me for help, but I wasn’t gonna pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity. No way in Hell! So I help his brother push.  Just to seal the deal I used his own words against me. The ones from when I was sick. 

“Do it for me!”

I know I’m an asshole but how could I not?

I didn’t know his spine COULD bend that much. He slumped forward onto the stage, looking utterly defeated. 

Honestly I felt so bad about it I was about to go up and pull him back, but I was too late. The song had started. 

Turns out it wasn’t a Celine Dion song. 

It was THE Celine Dion song. 

Titanic theme BBY!

DaGe draped his arm over Lan Zhan’s shoulders, probably to keep him from running, as Nie Huaisang started off the song with as much over the top passion and drama as is demanded by law for that song. He said something to him but I couldn’t hear it over SangSang’s lovely crooning. 

And then it was  Nie Duet. For once I actually could believe they were brothers! Their shit-eating grins were identical as they pingponged poor Lan Zhan between them with their nudging, trying to get him to sing too. 

Eventually he gave in and between the three of them they made the most amazing, wonderful show I’ve ever seen. Lan Zhan even got into it eventually as he and SangSang practically screamed gracelessly into the microphones.

Amazingly enough, it was DaGe who managed to hit all the high notes. Did he have fucking lessons or something? How??????

I don’t think I’ve ever come CLOSE to seeing Lan Zhan acting that… SILLY before! Oh. He ended up looking like he was having SO much fun. It was so wonderful. I wish he could have that much fun every day of his life!

He looked a bit meek again after the song ended so I hugged him tight after he got off stage. Meanwhile his older brother was pushing his way ON to the stage. Apparently it was his turn now. 

I was trying not to laugh again, afraid he’d think I was making fun of him like he clearly thought before. I didn’t do a great job of it because he told me to go ahead and laugh. “I know it’s lame.”

Oh that got me going, though not in the guffaws that threatened earlier. I chuckled at him for being adorable and told him it wasn’t lame at all. I told him I was just happy to see him acting so damn silly and that I’d love to see it again. 

He pulled back to look at me and I could only start laughing again. A real in the gut laugh. It was good. So good. It was like it cleared up the last of the sobbing I’d done earlier. I felt so much better. 

“That song though,” I said, not able to resist teasing him as I put my head on his shoulder again. “I was NOT expecting that one. Celine Dion? Really??”

And then he pinched my side. Probably trying to tickle me. It did a little but that’s a dangerous game to play when the tickler themselves is QUITE ticklish and the ticklee KNOWS it. 

I pinched him back in the exact same way he pinched me and he lept back so fast it was like a cat jumping out of a bath! And even better, he stumbled RIGHT into the peacock. (brief heart attack because the peacock had at some point stolen A-Lian from her mother, but my precious niece was perfectly fine. ) 

He gave Lan Zhan a LOOK like his patience was seriously being tested, but sighed in the end and offered him A-Lian in what looked very much like a peace offering than anything else. 

“At least you’ll be more careful with her, I hope,” he said in the most threatening tone I think I’ve ever heard from a bird. 

And then Lan Zhan proved he had no qualms with stooping to the lowest of lows by using my beloved niece as a SHIELD while calling for a truce! He held her up so she was standing on his lap and her face covered his and he wiggled her arms all adorable.

And A-Lian just gave me those doe eyes that she learned from her mother and collaborated with him!

So I did the only thing I could do. I shuffled closer, bracing one hand against Lan Zhan’s neck, and tickled my traitor niece instead. She squealed and squirmed, her face turning cherry pink! 

When MianMian and Qin Su started singing some spice girls or destiny’s child or some song or other, A-Lian started to wiggle to it even though I’d stopped tickling her. 

“You like that music?” I heard Lan Zhan say as he took her by the hands to help her keep her balance as he wiggled along with her. He sounded so warm and happy. 

But then I made a mistake. I looked at Lan Zhan again. And oh that FUCKING FEELING came back. 

No! I’m good with being an uncle! I don’t need more! 

My life is a MESS. I can’t even take care of myself! How am I supposed to think about…

But then if he was with me… 

NO!

He’s NOT with me! This is just idle fantasy and I SHOULDN’T be daydreaming about it! YOU KNOW BETTER WEI YING.

Besides even if that were… a thing. It’s kinda putting the cart before the horse. 

One step at a time. If we ever do actually make it past step one THEN we can start thinking of… what would that be. Step 15?????????????????????????????????????????

UGH.

He was looking at her with such a tender expression. It made my heart squeeze with want so hard it almost hurt. 

I grabbed a glass of wine and downed it to help keep my mind away from such dangerous fantasies. 

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” I said once the burn of the alcohol had settled in my stomach. 

“I didn’t know either,” Lan Zhan said. Do Lans not have kids? I suppose he’s probably spent most of his time with his brother, and he doesn’t have kids so maybe that makes sense. 

“Maybe A-Lian is just that good with adults,” he continued after a thoughtful pause, making me snicker.  I leaned in to kiss my niece’s chubby (and admittedly kinda sticky) cheek and she giggled, making my heart squeeze again. 

Then she made grabby hands at me to pick her up! ;dklsjf;saj I must have done something right because she doesn’t ask for me very often! So naturally I scooped her up immediately. Lan Zhan seemed unwilling to give her up, not that I blame him, and held her a little longer even though she was secured in my arms already. 

Eventually he did let go though, saying he was going to get more cake. I made A-Lian wave at him as he got up and asked him to bring me a slice of the cocai--cake too. 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 28 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Since we have about 200 or so chapters to go, I’m gonna stop pretending that I have anything important to say in these author’s notes. Love you all though! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Adore still failed to get Pearl’s attention, Sutan and Violet reconnected, and Trixie and Katya announced their engagement.  

This Chapter: Paris fashion week continues with a spark of hope, an injury, and a well-timed present.

***

“Ugh!”

All Adore wanted was to reach her best friend and tell her the amazing news she had, but of course, Courtney wasn’t answering. She’d sent a bunch of text messages, tried her personal cell twice and her work cell four times. She knew it was business hours in New York, but so what? She needed to talk, and they were supposed to be ride or die besties.

Adore knew there was one surefire way to reach her, though, so she smirked to herself, calling Fame’s office line--through the hotel, so her own number wouldn’t come up on the caller ID.

“Miss Fame’s office.”

Adore affected her best French accent and said, “Hello, I have Madame Delano from French Vogue for Ms. Courtney Jenek.”

“Speaking.”

“Courtney, you fucktard, it’s me!” Adore laughed, flopping backwards onto her hotel bed. Bianca had booked them a suite, and she was deeply enjoying herself so far, wrapped in a spa robe, gorging herself on champagne and a huge room service seafood platter.

“Oh god, sorry. It’s been a day,” Courtney said, finally dropping her pretentious work voice and sounding more like herself. “How’s France?”

“C’est bon, mais oui!” Adore said, making her friend giggle. “Actually, I’m calling you because I have something amazing to report. But if you’re too busy, then-”

“For you? Never!” Courtney assured her. “I mean, sure, I have about a hundred things that Violet said I need to get done in the next ten minutes, but...eh, it can wait. What’s up?”

“That’s my girl!” Adore grinning, settling back against her pillows and dipping a shrimp into some very delicious mystery sauce. “Okay, so, I was kind of bummed last night because I saw Pearl but she like, didn’t say hi or anything, and so I thought maybe she just wasn’t interested anymore, you know? And even this morning, I couldn’t get a read on her. But then…”

Adore paused dramatically, popping the shrimp into her mouth.

“Then...? What happened?!” Courtney exclaimed.

“We were at this dumb fashion show, a super boring one for like Celine or something, and it was just like, suit suit suit suit...and I literally almost fell asleep, but then afterwards, I’m just standing at the bar with a drink, and guess who came up behind me?”

“I want to say Pearl, but that seems so obvious.”

“Yes! Pearl! She came up to me, and she was so funny, all ‘what are you even doing here? You’re way too cool for this shit.’”

“I mean, she’s right.”

“And the way she like, said it in this low voice right in my ear. I got all tingly and lightheaded and I almost just swooned right into her arms.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, so then I turned around and it was like those movies where the music swells and everything slows down and ugh, she’s so hot, I cannot take it,” Adore rolled over, hugging a pillow to her chest, the memory of Pearl’s scent still clinging to her skin.

“What did you say?”

“I was like…” Adore took a deep breath, trying to do her best impression of the sexy voice she’d used earlier, “Oh, you think you know me, huh? You have no idea…”

“Stop it, you did not!”

“I did! And then she was like, ‘will i see you later at-”

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Adore sat up, slightly annoyed that her story had been interrupted, but also concerned for her friend.

“I just spilled tea all over the...I gotta go, Adore, sorry.”

“Oh. But I still haven’t told you about the-”

“I’ll call you later! Love you!”

Adore glared at her phone as the line went dead. “Rude.”

***

Violet hurried behind Fame and Raja, on their way to a cocktail party. She knew that Fame had barely eaten any lunch, and that her dinner tonight wasn’t for another three hours, so when Fame held out a hand to her wordlessly, Violet knew exactly what she wanted. She fished the raw coconut date ball, Fame’s favorite snack for when her blood sugar dipped, out of her purse, even quickly opening the package before placing it in her boss’s hand.

“That show was something, wasn’t it?” Fame asked, and Raja chuckled.

“I know it makes me a terrible person--” Raja shook her head at Fame, who was offering her a piece of the snack. “--But I love watching a model take a proper dive off stage-”

“Raj!” Fame squealed, hitting her arm, hiding her mouth so no one could see her chewing. “Don’t make me choke on my dinner.”

They had just finished watching the Giambattista Valli show, Violet standing against the wall with all the other assistants.

“What happened to that poor girl was terrible.” Fame huffed. She was in bright white, her red Valentino bag the only pop of color, the accessories matched perfectly to her lipstick.

“Absolutely horrible-” Raja smirked, everything about her radiating confidence as she walked down the street. “A true tragedy.”

“Karma will get you for this.”

Violet knew that Raja and Fame could bicker for hours, but they were cut off as they had finally made it to the historically old building where the evening’s cocktail hour was held. Violet didn’t wait, simply holding her arms out to take Fame’s coat, Raja followed suit, dumping them in Violet’s hands before they both disappeared.

Violet nodded at the coat check girl, carefully putting the numbers in the zipped part of her purse. She had never lost anything of Fame’s, and she wasn’t about to start in Paris of all places.

***

“TanTan!”

Raja spun around at the sound of a familiar voice calling her brother’s name.

“What the-” Sutan stood up straight.

Raja looked out over the crowd, fashion faces all around them. The cocktail party had been going for well over an hour, small oases set up for lounging around, which Raja took full advantage of.

“Tan!”

Raja had always prided herself at being able to keep a calm head in any situation, but as soon as she spotted her fiancée, she felt her stomach clench.

“Raven?”

Raven was hobbling towards them, her fiance’s long black hair spilling down her back. She was in a black corset top, her neck adored with the emerald necklace Raja had so lovingly put on her that very morning.

As soon as their eyes met, though, Raven’s icy demeanor shattered, her face crumbling as she reached for her. It had been one of the first things Raja had noticed about Raven, was how indifferent she was, how difficult she was to impress. It was what had made her stand out like a shining beacon in a sea of beauty.

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all.

“Oh Raja!”

Raja answered instantly, rushing to her side, not even noticing that Fame and Violet had returned to their table, her twin right behind her.

“What happened?” Sutan flanked Raven right away, blocking both of them from view.

“My shoe broke-” Raven was shaky, and if Raja didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like she was about to cry, but that couldn’t be right. She put a protective arm around her fiancée, and Raven instantly leaned against her, letting her take her weight.

“Is everything alright?” Violet showed up behind Sutan, and while Raja didn’t have anything against her, she really didn’t want anyone she didn’t completely trust around right now.

“I think my ankle-” Raven gestured vaguely, and Raja looked down for the first time. Raven’s foot was visibly swollen, her golden Jimmy Choo missing it’s heel.

“Fuck.” Sutan crouched down, Violet’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “I have to make calls, if I’m lucky Jaslene can substitut-”

“NO!” Raven cried out. “No, don’t-”

Raja wanted to say something, wanted to butt in, but she didn’t know what to do. It was clear that Raven couldn’t walk a runway with a broken foot, and as a former model herself Raja knew just how much trouble there would be if Raven couldn’t honor her booking.

“Raven,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoe, and Raven immediately winched.

“Don’t touch it!”

“If I can’t touch it, how can you possibly think I’ll let you walk?” Sutan bristled, irritation clear on his face.

“I need to walk tomorrow!”

Sutan touched her foot again, and Raven yelped, gritting her teeth through the pain.

[Let’s get her down.] Raja looked at her twin, and Sutan nodded. Raven allowed Raja to escort her to a nearby sofa, sitting down heavily and moaning, “What am I going to do?!”

“Let me take a look.”

Raja turned, surprised to see Violet standing there with a big glass of ice and her purse. She hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but she couldn’t help but be impressed with her foresight.

“Please-” Raven gestured to her foot, and Violet crouched down, Sutan sitting down next to Raja.

“Holy shit…”

Raja looked at her brother, his mouth hanging slightly open, his arms crossed as he was staring directly at Violet.

“I know you’re scared,” Violet ever so gently took Raven’s shoe off, and Raja barely managed to hide her reaction to the ugly purplish bruise that was forming on her foot, “and I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need you to be strong and I need you to be quiet.”

“I can do that.” Raven nodded.

“Sutan, give me your handkerchief.”

Violet held her hand out, and Sutan accommodated her immediately, handing her the fabric which Violet used to wrap the ice she fished out of the glass. Violet held it in place on Raven’s foot, even as she gasped, burying her face against Raja’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, princess?” Raja whispered.

“No.”

“We’ll take good care of you, baby, don’t worry.” Raja pressed a kiss against Raven’s hair, the lush locks smelling faintly like orange blossom, and Raja couldn’t help but think back to that very morning where she’d been exploring damp and slick shower-fresh skin.

“Raven,” Violet said, trying to get the girl to focus on something other than her ankle. “Did you hear that Cordelia took a stage dive at the Giambattista Valli show?”

“Quelle tragique,” Raven said, turning her face towards Violet, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “Poor little lamb.”

Raja couldn’t help but be impressed with Violet’s ability to divert her attention from the pain so quickly.

“Who are you walking for tomorrow?” Violet asked, and soon Raven was chatting away, telling Violet all about her plans for the rest of the week. After a few minutes of icing her ankle, Violet removed the kerchief and examined the bruise, nodding to herself before pulling a roll of white tape out of her purse.

“Have you been carrying that all day?” Sutan looked surprised, his voice filled with a sense of wonder Raja rarely ever heard from him.

“Perhaps.” Violet smiled, and Raja snorted, watching as Violet expertly opened the roll.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Raven asked, nails digging into Raja’s hand.

“Yes,” Violet admitted, her tone flat, like she was simply stating the obvious. “But if you want to walk tomorrow-”

“I do, I do!”

“Good.” Violet began wrapping Raven’s ankle, briefly catching Raja’s eyes, nodding her head slightly, clearly trying to tell her she needed to distract Raven.

Raja did her best, but it was impossible to concentrate when Raven let out whimpers of pain, and she ended up just stroking her hair gently while the brunette worked away. Finally, the whimpers began to fade.

“Your toes are okay,” Violet proclaimed. “It’s not broken, and I don’t even think it’s a sprain. You’ll be able to walk just fine.”

Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, only now noticing that Violet’s Dolce & Gabbana dress was touching the floor, but it didn’t look like it bothered the young woman at all that her clothes were getting dirty.

“You’re tough, Raven. You and I, we get it done because we have to, and you can do this. Let’s test it.”

Violet had finished wrapping Raven’s foot, and grabbed Raven’s hands, helping the other woman up as she carefully put pressure on her foot, not screaming in pain.

“You should keep it elevated, and continue icing it as much as possible, but not more than fifteen minutes at a time-”

“Oh my god, Violet, I love you…I really fucking do!” Raven exclaimed.

“It’s not that much-“

“No. Seriously, you have just earned yourself a best friend for life.” Raven pulled Violet in for a tight embrace before sitting back down, allowing Violet to refill the handkerchief with a fresh batch of ice.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Pearl was standing outside of the hotel, being unreasonably slow as she lit her cigarette, doing her very best to drag it out for as long as possible.

She had put on one of her very best outfits, her ass looking like sin in the black leather pants she had struggled to get into, the fabric practically painted on.

Pearl knew that Fame was leaving the hotel at 9.45 sharp, and that Violet was always 10 minute early.

She hadn’t fully figured out yet exactly how she’d get Violet to talk to her, but she knew that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, the sensation of Violet’s fingers on her skin still there.

Pearl was aware that she hadn’t acted her best, and while she didn’t initially agree that it was fair that Violet had freaked out about her kissing another girl at the Vogue party, Pearl had been able to find it in herself to forgive her.

“Oh-”

Pearl turned, a smile blooming on her face as she saw Violet, who had just exited the building. She was beautiful in the morning light, her dress of the day showing off her collarbones and the barest swell of her breasts perfectly.

“Good morning, Pearl.”

Violet smiled, and Pearl smiled back, the easiness on Violet’s face filling her with warmth.

There was no way she’d be happy without making this gorgeous girl hers, and when Pearl Liaison decided she wanted something, she got it.

“Morning pumpkin.”

Violet didn’t flinch, didn’t look annoyed at the nickname, and Pearl could swear they were back to the good old days. Violet checked her phone, and Pearl see her relax, Fame probably still in her room. Violet sent off a quick message, looking up at Pearl.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Mmmh.” Pearl nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“I barely did anything.” Violet took a step forward, settling besides Pearl on the wall, the two of them chatting away, and Pearl knew without a doubt that she’d have Violet in her bed where she belonged before Paris was over.

***

Courtney’s hands flew over the practically smoking keyboard as she tried to keep up with the barrage of emails from Violet. How was she able to send emails so fast, all while attending fashion shows? Shouldn’t she be sipping a café au lait or something?

She felt like she hadn’t had a moment to breathe since yesterday morning, when she’d woken up at 4 am to message after message, an endless list of tasks to complete before she even had a chance to pee. Today was no different. She supposed that the entire week would be like this. At first, she’d had a faint hope that the time difference would mean going home early, but so far no such luck. Violet clearly expected her to be in the office until 7 just like always.

Courtney groaned. It was only Tuesday and she was already so tired, so stressed, so aggravated. Any task that wasn’t an absolute emergency was getting put off, added to a to do list that was growing exponentially. She never thought she’d be praying for Fame and Violet to return to the office, but she couldn’t wait until this European extravaganza was over.

Her phone rang, and she answered quickly, seeing that the call was coming from reception.

“Yes?”

“Come to the front desk,” Roxy said. “There’s something I need to show you.”

“Now? But I just-”

“Yeah, now. Hurry.”

The line went silent as she hung up. Courtney finished her email, made a note on her pad, and then heaved herself up from the desk, hurrying to reception to find out what could possibly be so urgent.

“What’s going on?” she asked, confused by the giant grin on Roxy’s face.

“Someone loves you,” Roxy said.

Now, Courtney was really confused. Her brow furrowed deeply.

“Huh?”

Roxy rolled her eyes and gestured to a flower arrangement sitting on the ledge in front of her. It was a huge, extravagant flower arrangement of pink and champagne roses. It was so big that Courtney hadn’t even noticed it at first, mistaking it for part of the office decor.

“Those are for me?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. And these too.” Roxy held out a huge gold box of chocolates. “For a second I wondered if it was Valentine’s Day. Then I remembered it’s fucking September.”

Courtney stepped forward, pulling the card from the flowers and ripping open the envelope.

“Who’re they from?”

To the most beautiful girl in the entire world,

I know you’re stressed right now, so I hope these cheer you up. It’s only been 2 days but I already miss you like crazy, would give anything just to see your face. Don’t be a stranger.

XO, W

P.S. Don’t worry, the chocolates are vegan.

A smile tugged at Courtney’s lips. She’d had another amazing date with Willam on Sunday, almost disgustingly adorable: an extended brunch, followed by hours of strolling through the park, fingers laced together, taking in the foliage already turning brilliant fall colors. She’d confided in him, even more than she had before, about all of the things weighing on her mind, all her secret dreams and hopes for the future. And he hadn’t interrupted her once, had been interested in all of it like nobody else she’d ever met.

And at one point, standing on a little footbridge, breathing in the crisp autumn air, he’d kissed her. A sweet and tender kiss. It was strange: he had such a bold sense of humor, almost crude, but their relationship was the exact opposite. Chaste. Victorian, even.

For someone used to being treated like a piece of meat, it was a lovely and refreshing change of pace, and Courtney found herself thinking that in fact, she was wrong to be worried about their supposed lack of passion. So he didn’t want to jump into bed right away--that was good! It gave them time to get to know each other. And she had to admit, it was a bit of a relief that he wasn’t only looking for sex; she could just relax and enjoy their time together without worrying about all the usual things.

The truth, the real truth, was that Courtney had never liked dating very much before. Oh sure, she enjoyed attention, being told she was beautiful, seeing the effect she had on boys. All of that was nice. But actually doing it: sitting through excruciating conversations about sports and cars and comic books or whatever the boys she dated happened to be obsessed with, listening to empty promises and fancy words when she knew for a fact that the only thing they wanted was between her legs. And the sex itself--never particularly satisfying, mostly just another thing she had to Get Through for any chance at being held (and even that was hit or miss).

Courtney had been telling herself for years that it was the boys: she just somehow always ended up with shallow jerks and exhausting douchebags. Someday, she’d find a great guy, who was exciting and funny and considerate, who made her feel all those fluttery things that she was supposed to feel.

Was Willam that guy? He certainly should be. He was kind and patient and objectively good-looking. It made Courtney a bit uneasy to think that maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe she was the one with the problem. Maybe she was just incapable of the kind of epic romance that she’d always dreamed of.

“Oh, just this guy I’m seeing.” For a moment, Courtney found herself wondering if she should use the word ‘boyfriend.’ It still felt too soon, but was it? He was certainly angling hard in that direction.

“You must be amazing in bed,” said Roxy.  

“We haven’t actually slept together yet,” Courtney told her, gathering the flowers and chocolates into her arms. Since Miss Fame was gone, nobody could stop her from keeping them in her office, so she could look at them anytime her day sucked. Which, if the week continued to go the way it had been, would be frequently.

“You haven’t slept together and he’s sending this shit?!” Roxy’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Marry him!”

Courtney laughed, rounding the corner back to her office and setting the roses down. She sighed happily, pulling out her cell to send Willam a thank you text, when her office phone began ringing. She dropped her cell, scrambling to pick up her headset, pulse quickening and stomach sinking when she saw that familiar number on the caller ID.

“Hi, Violet…” Courtney closed her eyes as Violet began to rant at her about Fame’s latest emergency, bracing herself for an incredibly un-fun afternoon.

[projectwkm]

Star of the Show

An Actor Mark fic that’s only half a vent set before WKM! Anything in bold is the Manor speaking to him.

[SUMMARY: Mark drinks too much, and Celine and William slip up. The show goes on.]

[WARNINGS: alcohol, blood, horror-descriptions of the House’s Entity, cheating, mentions of bile, stabbing, manipulation, mentions of corpse.]

They stood too fucking close together.

Scowling, and taking a too-large gulp from his drink, Mark surveyed the scene though narrowed eyes and a tight smile that he hoped didn’t look as faux as it felt. There were too many people around for him to cause a scene, far too many people — he barely dared confront Celine on anything when there was anyone else around, lest word spread about them being anything less than happy: God knew his reputation and career couldn’t do with those sort of rumours.

Not that they appeared to be rumours at all. Staring at his wife and his— brother, rival, best friend, enemy? — William, Mark saw what he’d been too blind to see previously. A laugh from Celine. A grin from William. A meaningful glance exchanged between the both of them. God, it made him sick: or maybe that was the alcohol. The whole room had gone blurry a few drinks ago, and Mark had never been the best at holding himself together drunk in public, but seeing Celine and William was far too much for him sober. So he drank.

The wine glass was tugged free from his too tight grip, and Mark started, gazing blearily into the concerned eyes of none other than Damien. His only remaining confidant, his ally, his best friend. Damien.

He probably knows about Celine and William, something hissed poisonously in the back of his mind, and Mark, tipsy and cruel, latched on to that thought instantly. Damien probably did know. He was Mayor, after all — and Celine was his sister. There wasn’t a lot he didn’t know, no doubt. His previous sentiments about Damien soured quickly. Damien was just as guilty as William and Celine; covering up their crimes was equally detestable.

It seemed like Mark really was the only hero in his story. That was disappointingly clear.

“Mark, I think mayhaps you’ve drank enough,” Damien murmured, his voice low so as to avoid the other guests at the party, ever the diplomat. He was so concerned about reputation, Mark thought scathingly, ignoring the way he too obsessed about how his public appearance. Did Damien even care about him? Did Damien even care about his feelings at all, or did he care about his reputation first and foremost?

His anger, previously simmering, began boiling up inside of him.

“Oh, please, Damien, you worry too much,” he smiled, but the words came out too sharp and the expression too false, judging by the alarm written over the other’s face. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Completely fine.” Maybe he had drank enough. Maybe he was overreacting.

Maybe you should look at your wife. Unwillingly, Mark’s eyes dragged themselves back to Celine.

She was touching him. Her head on his shoulder, his arm around him, both of them looking as if they’d never been happier. They probably thought they were so clever — managing to get away with so much, right under Mark’s nose, managing to flirt so much at his own party. He could imagine them now, congratulating themselves with praise and flirting and—

“Mark.” Drawn from his own musings with the back of his mind, Mark tensed as Damien spoke his name, already on edge. There was a trace of weary annoyance in his childhood friend’s voice, as if Mark was the one that deserved to be reprimanded. As if Mark was the one in the wrong! “Don’t— Perhaps you should lie down. You’re looking quite unwell—”

“I’m fine.” There was definitely malice in his voice, aimed rather unfairly at Damien, but Mark couldn’t care about that right now. “Didn’t I just say that? What I need is another drink.”

Damien’s jaw clenched, and he had the nerve to look concerned still. “I don’t think that’s for the best,” he said, tentatively, “you don’t seem yourself. Maybe—”

Aren’t you sick of his maybes?

The voice posed a good question. He flushed in anger.

“I’m so tired of your suggestions,” Mark snapped, only realising how loudly and drunkenly he’d been speaking when others turned around to glance at him, clearly seeking out the source of the drama. “I know you’re protecting them. I know you know what they’ve done. Get outta my way.”

Without further ado, he elbowed his way past Damien and made for Celine and William, barely restraining the fury from playing over his face. He snatched another drink from a table as he passed by, draining it in agitation and putting it down roughly on another table. Sick. He was sick of Celine’s lies, William’s dishonesty, sick of everything.

Maybe they deserve this, something whispered to him. Mark couldn’t help but agree. They did.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” His voice didn’t sound like his: it sounded rehearsed, blank with too much anger behind it. Celine jerked, eyes widening, while William only tensed, a sort of readiness to fight slipping on to his face. “My beautiful wife. My favourite adopted brother. How quaint. How perfectly quaint. How sweet. You’re like a— a— happy couple.”

Perfect. Perfect delivery of your lines. Lines? Were they lines? He didn’t know. His anger was rising too rapidly to think.

“How much have you had to drink, dear?” Celine asked, sickeningly sweet, and there was a wary sort of fear in her eyes. She knew this was it. God, this was it, Mark realised, with a dawning horror. This was it. There was no turning back now. “Don’t you think you should go and lie down?”

Maybe he should....

Maybe she’d enjoy you leaving. William would have her all to himself. Maybe you should expose her lies.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love that, with your darling William to keep you company!”

The beginning of the end.

The night was a haze of blood and wine — of shouting and eventually silence. The crowds, greedily lapping up the drama of the situation, eventually lost interest and left, not too long after William and Celine. Damien, like the sheep he was, followed helplessly after them, making faux promises to Mark to return and help him. Mark lay on the floor, head spinning, mind reeling, and lifted one hand to wipe at his nose. Bloody. Badly bloody. William had punched him, he remembered that much. Had that been before or after he’d called Celine a whore? Before or after he’d screamed at William for betraying him, before or after he’d tried to punch them?

Maybe they deserve to be miserable like you are. The voice in the back of his head didn’t sound much like it was just that anymore. It sounded more oily, more greasy, far smoother. Maybe you should make sure they aren’t ever happy again. Mark blinked drunkenly. He’d heard that voice before. He’d spoken to that voice before. He’d obeyed that voice before.

Maybe you should wake up, little hero.

Maybe he should.

He blinked again, and when he focused, he wasn’t in a brightly lit ballroom. He was alone and only half alive with a bottle of wine clutched in one hand and a knife in the other.

Coughing up blood and bile, Mark rolled on to his side, trembling with exertion. It had just been a memory — an awful memory. He wasn’t alone. He never had been alone. The House was always with him, offering suggestions, opinions, praise. Anything Mark desired, the House gave him.

When he’d discovered the Upside Down world, he’d demanded a neverending starring role as the hero. And the House had promised to give him it, as soon as he completed one little task. A task he’d been wanting to complete for too long anyway.

Revenge.

Maybe you should clean yourself up, the House, not the back of his mind, cooed, in time for your side characters arriving.

“I know,” Mark murmured, voice croaky and dry, but still prideful, “but I… I don’t understand why you’d show me that night again. That party… I don’t understand.”

Maybe you should listen to me. I am the one that has been there for you when you were alone. I am the one that will lead you to your hero role. I showed you that night to remind you of how they hurt you. How they abandoned you. To remind you that I will never leave. I will never hurt you.

He choked on the feeling of its claws in his chest, digging in deep enough to draw blood. But it didn’t, of course. He damaged his own body enough without it doing it for him. “I am the hero in all this. Aren’t I?”

Of course you are. What else could you be? Your humble upbringing, your tragic backstory. There’s no other part for you to play.

Tragic backstory, humble upbringing...? Mark frowned, trying to remember his life that seemed like forever ago now. He’d been raised spoiled and rich, bratty and demanding, with everything he could ever want — he wasn’t humble in the slightest. But then the House cooed at him, brushed a breeze through his hair, and his memories slipped away. Of course. His humble upbringing. He was the hero.

There was no other part for him to play.

Mark clambered to his feet with a grimace, woozy and off balance from both the wine and the death. Inwardly, though, he’d never felt more awake. This was his time to shine. The main event of the story, the climax of the first act of the play. The beginning of his better life. Smiling far too wide for a man that had just been stabbed, Mark turned his attention to the House.

It ... wasn't physically visible to anyone other than him, despite how it felt. Mark could feel it deep within him, chittering and vibrating and clawing, and although the pain had been most unwelcome at the beginning, over time, he’d grown to enjoy it. It was a distraction from the constant pain his broken body was in. The House rustling in his body, restlessly moving from his stomach to his chest to his shoulders to his back and all over, made him feel less alone — like he had a small animal or pet to keep him company. It was hard to tell what shape the House Entity was. Sometimes, he could feel its beak speaking words out his mouth. Other times, he felt its fur run his insides dry and its claws sink into his skin to draw blood. In his best nightmares, it looked like a shadowy outline of him, with glowing red eyes and razor sharp teeth as it showered him with praise and instructions for his role in this story.

You’re perfect, the House crooned at him, and Mark could almost feel its oily embrace. A bolt of jealousy, hot and cruel, shot through him when he thought of Celine and William. How often did they hug, hold hands, kiss, embrace, exchange physical contact with each other? They could do so every day if they so desired. But Mark was alone. William had stolen Celine from him, and Damien had known and still sided against Mark. Because Mark was the only hero.

He ignored the hundreds of unopened letters from the Mayor that were in his room, ignored how genuine Damien had sounded when telling him he hadn’t known about the affair, ignored the part of him that knew deep down Damien didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess. None of them did.

They wronged you. Mark wasn’t sure if it was the House or himself saying that this time. Either way, he knew it was true. They deserve this. They deserved this. You should punish them. He would punish them. They don’t deserve to be happy when you aren’t happy. They didn’t deserve to be happy when he wasn’t happy.

He needed to get going. With a brief glance in his mirror to check that the House was still around — the mirror that showered his true reflection, the bloodless and disgusting corpse he’d become, the mirror he’d come to despise for telling the truth when he hid in a world of delusions — Mark painted over his rage and pain with a jovial smile. He almost felt like his old self again. Slipping from one black robe to his favourite red one, he tilted his head too far on his neck at the sound of the doorbell.

Showtime.

As he headed downstairs, the House stayed, lingering in the mirror for just a second more. It smiled and dripped oozing black from its expression, remorseless and excited. Its puppet was beautiful, a beautiful broken thing, so narcissistic and desperate to hurt others — it had moulded him perfectly. Soon it would be able to grow more powerful than ever.

The doorbell rang again, more insistent, and it vaguely heard Benjamin’s voice greeting the guest. Its smile only grew. It could taste Mark’s blood, but also his desire for this. It may have shaped him, but his deceit and cruelty and narcissism had been there already, even before the fateful night of the revelation of the affair. The House hadn’t done that, not at all.

With a last, self satisfied grin, the Entity slithered back to its puppet, hanging heavy around his shoulders and letting its tail stroke the wound on the actor’s body.

Beautiful, it lied, and it could tell he believed it.

Mark was the hero in his version of the story, after all, and heroes had to be beautiful. Even if inside they hid something far more sinister.

—————

All critique and feedback is appreciated!! Feel free to reblog or request a snippet with Actor Mark involved!! 💛

[ollifree]

Found an Inquisitor-as-Companions ask sheet so I’m filling these out for Kendra/Darrell in the multi protags au

1. If not for the Conclave, what would drive your character to join the Inquisition?

They both joined because they were at the Conclave and honestly? I can’t see them joining if they weren’t. Much like in the other worldstates were they aren’t Inquisitor, Mami Trevelyan got a firm lockdown on her children after the sky literally exploded. Oh wait, did I say they both joined because they were at the Conclave? That’s a lie. Darrell joined because he was at the Conclave. Kendra joined because Darrell did.

2. How would they meet the Inquisitor?

Kendra met her (Fanari Lavellan, I’m using my own Inquisitor but I’m writing this to fit any Inquisitor) first, in the same cutscene as Varric and Solas. Fanari chose to take the mountain path rather than go with the soldiers (and got her first Kendra Greatly Approves boost). Darrell was one of the soldiers stranded up on the mountain top.

3. What would some of their cutscenes look like?

One of the caveats of their cutscenes is that both of them are always present until Trespasser; at least at the start if not for the whole thing. During the first Trespasser scenes they’re apart because they’re having a spat about Darrell going to Tevinter with Dorian. (Kendra’s having a spat. Darrell’s having a headache.)

Their first cutscene (excluding their introductions) takes place in Haven. They’re found speaking with Josephine about the memorial being planned for those who died or went missing in the Conclave: a reading of names followed by lighting a pyre. Both are insisting that if the memorial’s ready to go but they’re out of Haven on Inquisition business, don’t stop on their account. Josephine starts to argue, but Fanari, out looking for Josephine to let her know her expertise is needed, interrupts. Kendra stalks off shortly after Josephine leaves.

Fanari asks Darrell what the argument was about. He tells her that he and Kendra weren’t the only Trevelyans at the Conclave, but they were the only ones to come out of it. “It’s been hard letting the family know, but it’s helped us. Going to the memorial would just be reopening the wounds, now.” Darrell turns the conversation on Fanari, asking if she wants something different to or happening with the pyre. Cutscene goes into approval/disapproval dialogue focused on faith and grief, with Darrell showing understanding to Fanari and approving of open-mindedness for people processing those things differently.

A follow-up conversation with Kendra can occur: also used as an approval dialogue. Hers is focused on the immediate fallout of the failed Conclave. Approval is gained by sympathizing with her but not pressing her on her personal losses, and her main concerns are shown to be for those not at the Conclave who had their lives upended by the Breach.

Their second cutscene takes place in Skyhold the first time speaking to one of them there before it’s restored. Fanari comments on not knowing which parts of the castle would be best suited to what. Kendra points at she and Darrell are noble, and can make a solid guess at whatever they’re not directly familiar with. They grab Cassandra and Dorian (for the same reasons) and the group sets off to explore. It’s used as an introductory tour of Skyhold for the player and as such enough time is spent in each area to inform them what will be there.

Kendra opens one door, goes in, and immediately leaves with a “Nope.” Darrell pokes his head into the room and declares it a broom closet, but advises they’ll want to get someone up here to take care of the spiders. There’s no dialogue tree for approval, but Fanari can gain some from both of them by making humorous suggestions for what areas the player decides (gardens, tower, courtyard) might be used for.

The third cutscene happens after Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. The Inquisitor walks up on the two as they’re discussing the outcome of the quest. Their reactions vary on which outcome happened (Celine died and Gaspard’s a puppet ruler to Briala in Fanari’s worldstate. Tragic) but generally Kendra’s content with any outcome while Darrell has concerns dependent on which leader’s in charge. More separate approval dialogue trees happen: Darrell gives approval by acknowledging his concerns and stating that for the time being the Inquisition can at least keep an eye on things; Kendra gives approval to an Inquisitor who also enjoyed The Game and comments on how Orlais’ leader can be used to the Inquisition’s benefit.

The fourth happens after Here Lies the Abyss. Both twins are rather subdued as Maria, one of the Hawke twins, remained behind in the Fade to make time for Fanari to escape after Gareth had already landed back in the physical world.  It’s a short scene, but the Inquisitor can get a Greatly Approves from each of them by saying “At least we’ve still got you two,” even if their reactions are still on the quiet side.

The fifth cutscene takes place after the Inquisitor drinks (or doesn’t drink) from the Well of Sorrows. Darrell excuses himself shortly after Fanari arrives. Kendra checks with her that she’s feeling okay after drinking from the Well. Kendra’s approval doesn’t dip in this conversation, and she reaffirms at the end of it that if Fanari starts feeling any effects to come find her.

An Inquisitor who drank from the Well can gain approval back from Darrell in his conversation by recognizing his worry and concerns for them. He ends the dialogue by confirming that he is worried for them first and foremost, but acknowledges that they were strapped for options at the time.

Both twins will ask Fanari about her reaction to the temple of Mythal, although no approval/disapproval is gained from how she answers. No, I don’t know how this goes for an Inquistor who didn’t drink from the Well. Write your own AU. For my characters.

Once both twins hit max approval a bonus cutscene is obtained. Fanari finds them out on the training ground in the courtyard sparring together with staves. Fanari asks why they don’t use the weapons out in the field. Darrell explains that they’re not much use against demons and mages, but it’s good to keep in shape. Cassandra approaches, curious about why they’re using Nevarran weapons. “Because we’re half Nevarran,” Darrell explains.

Cassandra stutters over this new information, because surely she’d know. Kendra points out a few facts for her: mainly that they’re the only two of the Inquisition who pronounce Cassandra’s name correctly (a subtle breath variation between syllables), their wording on a few phrases is a literal translation from the phrase in Nevarran, and neither of them eat beef. She drags Darrell back to training with a parting, “You’re a Seeker it’s your job to notice things.”

4. What would their romance route look like? Would they be romanceable?

Theoretically yes, both are romanceable by either gender. Fanari, however, is not romantically interested in humans.

5. If they romanced someone as Inquisitor, would they still fall for that person as a companion? How would that play out? How would they react to that person being romanced by the “new” Inquisitor?

They both do follow their romance paths with Iron Bull (Kendra) and Dorian (Darrell). They play out roughly in the same manner as they do when they’re Inquisitor. They’d both be sore over losing their prospective LIs to the Inquisitor if far enough along a romance path, but would recognize there’s bigger things to worry about.

6. Write some of their party banter.

Kendra

(On reaching the Crossroads in the Hinterlands for the first time) Kendra: Hm. Solas: Is something the matter, Lady Trevelyan? Kendra: I’m not sure if I was expecting things to be worse. Solas: We must do what we can.

Dorian: How many sisters do you have, Kendra? Kendra: Who’s asking? Dorian: Your brother was telling me his nose broke— Kendra: Oh, because of Cloud Dancer? That was me. Dorian: (laughter)

Vivienne: Are things well with your family, darling? Kendra: Well enough. Vivienne: I don’t mean to pry, dear. Just to remind you not all things are terrible. Kendra: ...Thanks.

Sera: Sun. Heat. Wind. Kendra: I’m too tired for lists. Sera: Grump.

Cole: (Darrell not in party) He misses you. Kendra: (grunt)

Kendra: I’ve heard you’re writing a book. Varric: Don’t get yourself into a tizzy. I know to keep my pen away from you.

(After Blackwall’s personal quest) Kendra: Welcome back. Blackwall: Oh. You’re speaking to me? Kendra: Long enough to tell you to stop coming to drink nights.

Iron Bull: Look at these footprints. (groan) They’re so tangled up I can’t tell how many there were. Kendra: At least a dozen. They straighten a little way out. Fanari: Do we know how recently they were here? Kendra: Rain fucks it up, but it can’t have been more than an hour. Iron Bull: They wanted this place bad. Might still be nearby. Darrell: (if in party) Well. I feel safe.

Cassandra: But, your family is so widespread there’s a Trevelyan in every Chantry. How can you not believe...? Kendra: Easier than getting you to shut up about it.

(Overheard when in the library after What Pride Had Wrought) Kendra: Have time for a question? Solas: Of course. Kendra: (hissed) Fuck’s wrong with you?

Darrell

Solas: This once was a place of learning for my people. Now even the ruins have turned to dust. Darrell: I’m sorry. Would it be possible to see it as it was? In your sleep, I mean? Solas: I think so. Our current task is more important, however.

Dorian: Sure, take Dorian along. It’s not like he hates the damp. Or the chill. Or the wildlife. Darrell: Would you have rather been kept back at camp? Dorian: It would be much more romantic to be weeping over a corpse than being wept over.

Darrell: Are you alright, Vivienne? Vivienne: Yes, thank you. Darrell: You’re sure? Vivinne: It will take more than an apostate to do me in, dear, but I am grateful for your concern.

Sera: You and Dorian, eh? Darrell: I think so. Sera: Good.

Darrell: I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my thoughts, Cole. Cole: I do. Sometimes. But, right after, I have to stop. She doesn’t like me to hear her. Darrell: Hearing me...makes you hear her? Cole: Yes. You’re happy!

Varric: Mind if I ask your thoughts on some things? Historical books are better with different perspectives. Darrell: You’re doing a historical novel? Varric: Not a novel per-say. More a bibliographical. On all this. Darrell: Can I give you a warning? Varric: For what? Darrell: My sister might come for you just for including her name. Varric: Noted.

Blackwall: Impressive how you turn your blade into a shield when we fight. Darrell: Oh, thank you. Blackwall: That wears it out a bit faster, doesn’t it? Darrell: The blacksmiths know my name, yeah. Blackwall: I was thinking. If we fought closer together, I may be able to take an arm off before they can strike. Darrell: Depends on where you stand. Otherwise Kendra might hit you.

Iron Bull: You know, a few drinks might loosen you up a little. Why not join us next time? Darrell: When’s next time? Iron Bull: If we’re unlucky, back at Skyhold. Darrell: And if we’re lucky? Iron Bull: Next group we bust has a cask on ‘em. Darrell: (laughter)

Cassandra: I have heard one of your siblings was a templar? Darrell: Two were. A brother and a sister. Cassandra: Has there been any news since...? Darrell: No. Cassandra: I'm sorry.

(During Trespasser) Darrell: Did Kendra and I tell you we were in Kirkwall recently? Varric: No! Both of you at once? I’d have bet money! What’d you think? Darrell: Bit of a shithole. Kendra: (if in party) Bit of a shithole. Varric: (laughter) Bit of a shithole.

7. What would be on their tombstone in the Fade?

Darrell’s is drowning. “Oh because of the metaphor of being weighed down by responsibility and sinking into helplessness?” “No I literally cannot swim.”

Kendra’s is betrayal. Though, she hides it and says it’s spiders. Like the form the nightmares take for her, or the giant ones they kill every Thursday that she screams during.

(Fanari’s is loss. Loss of those important to her, loss of her identity to humans who will try to rewrite her in history, loss of her autonomy to being the figurehead of the Inquisition.)

8. What kind of Inquisitor would drive them to leave the Inquisition/confront them about their actions?

Both Kendra and Darrell would confront an Inquisitor whose underlying motivations are cruel. They can both understand the difficulty of making a hard decision and going with the unpopular option, but there’s a difference between doing it because it needs to be done and doing it to see someone suffer. Unlike the bonus cutscene, you’d only need one of them at minimal approval. The one would take the other with them. You either have them as a pair or you don’t have them at all.

9. Where in Skyhold would they be found?

Kendra has a workshop set up in the rooms above Skyhold’s garden where she mixes poisons and Tempest flasks. It’s a tidy-ish room with a desk on one side and a large Do Not Touch plant on the other. There’s a few crates lying around along with a few stacks of paper here and there. Outside of gameplay mechanics, if she’s not there then she’s at the tavern.

Darrell has a sparse room comprised of bed, desk, and music stand. He’s generally found out in the courtyard by the training field.

10. If Inquisition operated like DA:O, what would their gift items be? What would their approval and disapproval Feast Day items be?

Darrell likes books and small trinkets. His approval Feast Day item would be a violin, and his disapproval item would be the sheet music to a score infamous for being the worst composition ever put to paper.

Kendra likes practical gifts: a whetstone, maps, candles. Her approval item would be a rune-enchanted blade and her disapproval item would be anything overtly having to do with the Maker or the Chantry.

11. How would they grow as a person? How would they compare at the end of the Inquisition as a companion to who they were as the Inquisitor?

Kendra’s biggest difference is that she’s quicker to trust other members of the Inquisition when she’s a companion. It still takes time, but she mellows out fairly quickly with other party members after getting to Skyhold.

Darrell becomes more decisive in his actions throughout the game, though he remains empathetic to others and to different sides of an argument.

12. Do they believe the Herald of Andraste is really the Herald of Andraste?

Kendra doesn’t believe in the Maker or Andraste, so that’s a big fat no from her. Darrell believes Fanari when she says she isn’t the Herald.

13. If the Herald didn’t have them tag along to prep the trebuchets, what would they do during the battle for Haven? (bonus: would they join in on the impromptu Dawn Will Come choir practice in the camp?)

Kendra made herself part of the group prepping the trebuchets. She’s part of the action from the get-go. Darrell would be helping others evacuate.

The Dawn Will Come choir doesn’t happen in Fanar’s canon. She cuts Mother Giselle off partway through her speech and gets up to start organizing people so they have something to do to take their minds off the situation and get them out of it sooner. Fanari knows how to booster moral by showing steady and knowing leadership, so that’s what she does.

14. What nickname does Varric give them?

Kendra’s nickname for when she’s a companion is Knives, though tbh I’m thinking of just making it her Inquisitor nickname Junebug. So that’ll probably happen. Darrell gets Smiles, and Fanari is Starshine.

15. Without the influence of their decisions for the Inquisition, which of the companions do they get along with? Which ones do they bicker with?

Darrell and Sera butt heads at first, but they’re on friendly terms less than halfway through the game. The party members he best gets along with are Dorian, Cassandra, Vivienne, and Varric.

The only companions Kendra doesn’t get along with are Cassandra and Blackwall, after his personal quest. She does have polite conversations with Cassandra, but even in Trespasser their conversations aren’t overtly friendly. The party members she’s on best terms with are Iron Bull, Solas, Sera, and Vivienne.

Frictions arise between both of them and Solas post Solas breaking things off with Fanari.

16. What would the Fear Demon say to them in the Fade to try and discourage them?

For both it’s them losing each other or more members of their family. Darrell’s response is “I was beginning to feel left out,” while Kendra’s is “Can you tell how hard I’m thinking about killing you?”

17. Where do they hang out in the Winter Palace? What’s their thoughts on the nobles/The Game?

Both of them hang out on the opposite side of the balcony where you find Josephine. If asked, the offer advice about who to speak to and when. Ambient dialogue can be heard from various nobles about them, with approval of them as individuals going up through the night regardless of the Inquisitor’s standing.

Kendra lives for The Game. It’s putting everything she does daily (mistrusting, misdirecting, manipulating) all in one spot with new people who don’t know how she operates.

Darrell’s more ambivalent about it, what with the backstabbing and the distrust, but he’s still good at it. He has a charm about him that makes people believe his sincerity and he knows when to obfuscate an answer without the other party feeling left wanting.

18. What’s their reaction to a dragon showing up?

Both of them have an initial reaction of Fuck, though Kendra follows it with “Guess we have to fight it now,” while Darrell’s more in the “We really don’t” camp.

19. Once Corypheus is beaten, what do they do during the party? Do they stay with the Inquisition, or go somewhere else? What could the Inquisitor do to convince them to stay?

Both of them are near one of the fires in Skyhold’s judgement hall. Again, they’re a package deal, and Kendra will tell the Inquisitor that since Darrell wants to stay she’ll stick around. “Besides, the world’s not ending anymore. Might be nice to breathe for a bit. Thanks for that.”

20. How do they react to learning abominations can retain their consciousness and identity, and even live peacefully with their spirits/demons, as seen in Stone-Bear Hold?

Kendra’s intrigued. She’ll ask questions even if the Inquisitor doesn’t. Darrell’s a tad more cautious, but checks himself. They’re respectful that this isn’t a similar culture to theirs and that they have no say in how these people live their lives.

21. What do they think of the discoveries made in the Deep Roads? Do they make any comments on anything?

They both hate the Deep Roads and they’re sorry for suggesting they go there. Send word to the Shaperate about what we found and let’s go. Next time a boyfriend dumps you we’ll take you to an opera.

22. If you have another Inquisitor, how would those two get along, specifically?

Both of them see Fanari and go “that’s a whole-ass child”. Throughout the game Fanari’s unofficially adopted as a little sister. Fanari’s a tad closer to Kendra at the end of the day, but she does care deeply for both of them.

23. In Trespasser, what “gift” would they give the Inquisitor, if any?

They’re a bit too wrapped up in personal drama to have planned anything for Fanari. Though they’re both the most dedicated in getting her to the end of the DLC once her imminent death becomes known. Yeah, the mark might go off again and destroy everything in a ten-foot radius, but Fanari needs help standing upright so guess what they’re gonna do.

24. What are their plans for after the Exalted Council? Will the Inquisition staying in tact or being disbanded make a difference?

Fanari wrote the members of the Inquisition before the Exalted Council to say, paraphrased, “Inquisition’s over pack your shit and leave.” Kendra’s looking forward to going home to Ostwick, while Darrell’s going to Tevinter with Dorian.

Their squabbling over this becomes so bad Dorian confesses to Fanari he’s considered asking Darrell to stay in the south. “Gods, you are an only child,” Fanari says. Those of us with siblings, we know the tone. Maybe you without siblings do too I don’t know your life.

25. In the alternate reality, if they were corrupted with lyrium, how do they act? What’s their attitude about the end of the world/their inevitable death?

To be completely transparent this is the scenario that solidifies Fanari as Inquisitor over Kendra in the worldstate for me.

After Fanari and Dorian got yeeted forward in time, Darrell was killed in the following fight and Kendra imprisoned until Fanari and Dorian found her. What did she do for that year? Teach herself to become a templar using the red lyrium. By the time she’s released, her entire drive is focused on killing Alexius. She knows she’ll die soon, and she wants to take as many people with her as she can. “They’re going to find out what a mistake it was leaving a Trevelyan in a room full of lyrium.”

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Guardian Angel

I have a request if you don't mind? (Totally feel free to ignore it though!) Mark is lonely after Celine leaves, so Damien and/or the DA gives him a cat (or maybe Mark finds one out in the rain and brings it in). Animals can sense the presence of the supernatural, so the cat can tell that the Entity in the house is trying to mess with Mark's head. The cat keeps ruining the Entity's plans, so it tries to get rid of the cat. When the Entity eventually tries to make a deal with Mark, he is like "WTF, no! You tried to kill my cat! (ง'̀-'́)ง"

@the-tragic-hero-and-you if you want me to stop tagging you in my Actor stories just let me know xx

If this felt a bit rushed at the end it was because I was desperately trying to get it finished and out.

 She was gone. 

It almost didn’t seem real. The Actor was sure that if he pinched himself then he would wake up from this horrible nightmare. This was nothing but a bad dream. That deep pit in his stomach, that cracking that he felt inside his chest, the pounding in his head. . .They would all go away once he woke himself up. He would sit bolt upright in bed covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Moonlight would stream through the windows to show the late hour and a body would stir next to him between the silk sheets. He’d look over at her and sigh in relief before sliding back down and pulling her to his chest. 

But try as he might to wake himself, this was reality. How long had his Celine been gone? A day? A week? A month? He didn’t know, time seemed to blend together. All he knew was that she had left, and taken a large part of his heart with her.

***

If people didn’t know better, they might think that the manor on top of the hill was abandoned. There were never any lights on, and no one had been maintaining the flora that had once been the epitome of prim and proper. Now the hedges were overgrown and the grass tall enough to obscure any rocks that someone may trip on, the cobblestone path that led up to the front door was beginning to suffer with the weeds that had grown between the stones. But people noticed how every week two men would drive up with bags of groceries and toiletries and leave them on the doorstep of the house before driving away. And only when they were out of sight of the house would the front door creak open and a man in a red robe would take everything inside. So no, the manor on top of the hill - as desolate as it may be - was not abandoned. But life had left with the mistress of the house.

***    

The wind and rain was relentless. The windows of the manor shook with the force of it. And as the wind wailed outside, Mark found that he wanted to join in. Recently, it had seemed that all he had been doing was crying and going down to his wine cellar to drink himself into a sleep. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was sitting in a bed that hadn’t had its sheets changed in weeks holding onto the pillow that she had laid her head on. It was pathetic, he knew that. His pride took a fatal blow every time he did it, but he couldn’t help himself.  

Thinking about her hurt. He couldn’t even think of her name without feeling like he was twisting the knife in his chest. And she had left him for William. His brother, one of his closest friends. The three of them plus Damien had been thick as thieves in childhood. There had been no secrets between the two of them, no story too embarrassing to share.

And none of it mattered to either of them. 

He didn’t know who instigated the relationship. Would it make him feel better to know? Probably not. Did they always have feelings for each other? Surely not? There must have been a time when Mark was enough in her eyes. He could have had any woman he wanted and he chose her. Didn’t that idea give her at least a little bit of satisfaction? He was rich, famous, and he loved her dearly. He had given her everything in the world. If she had asked he would have taken the moon from the sky and hung it on a chain to give to her as a necklace, even if it had sat at the bottom of her jewellry box for the rest of her days.

In the end it meant nothing. Two people he had cared about had spit on him and left him to drown in his own sorrows. And Damien? Damien. He knew. Maybe he hadn’t approved of William and Celine’s affair, but he hadn’t said a goddamn thing to Mark about it. Mark had used his wealth and influence so. Many. Times to bail Damien out of any trouble he had ever gotten himself in, but that meant nothing too. Everything Mark had done meant nothing. 

Mark meant nothing. 

Not even a year ago, he had been a man full of confidence and pride with a manor that was worth more than some entire towns. He had a chef and butler to take care of his needs. But now. . . Mark could barely get out of bed unless he had a drink. He had sent Chef and Benjamin home, and now the manor was falling into a state of disrepair. Sometimes he had fits of anger where he’d throw furniture against the walls. Then he’d break down, regretting all that hubris and confidence that had dictated his life. 

And sometimes there was a voice. It didn’t belong to him and he didn’t like it, but it came from inside his head. Whenever he heard it he wondered if he was going mad. He wondered if Celine would be happier knowing that she had destroyed him.

You hate them don’t you? Don’t lie, it hissed with that serpentine voice. 

Did he? He had known them for so long. He didn’t know if he had it in him to truly hate them. They had so much history.

How can you not? Do you think they even spared a thought for you? Clearly not while they were fucking when your back was turned. They deserve your hate.

Had they really never thought of him? Not once in their entire affair?

You’ve been forgotten. By everyone. No one is coming back for you.

It was right of course. 

They deserve your hate.

They did.

You hate them.

He hated- 

A loud banging brought him out of his thoughts. Those thoughts and feelings that had started to cloud his judgement dissipated like a puff of smoke. He didn’t hate them. Not yet. 

That banging sounded again. The front door. Someone was at his front door.

***

It took a considerable amount of willpower on the Actor’s part to drag himself out of his bed and down to the front door. Part of him hoped that whoever it was would give up soon and leave him to his torment. Another part of him craved human contact so badly that he found himself wanting to rush to the door. 

Bracing himself, he grabbed the door handle and twisted. The door creaked open, and he came face to face with the DA.

He didn’t know who he had expected. Maybe part of him hoped that Celine had come back to him. When was he going to learn that things were never going to go back to the way they were? Would he always hold out hope for a reality that was gone? He should’ve realised what he had when he had it. But he snapped himself back to reality before he could dwell on those things, and instead he turned his attention to the DA. 

At their feet they had placed a single giant bag full of shopping. Past the toiletries that had been stacked on the top he couldn’t see what else was in the bag. That was strange, Chef and Benjamin had dropped off food for him not that long ago. He wasn’t running out just yet. (Y/n) looked better than Mark did, but dark circles underneath their eyes told tales of sleepless nights. He entertained the thought of them being kept up thinking of him. But surely that wasn’t true. No one thought of him. They held a black umbrella over their head. Mark noted that they were hiding one hand behind them, but he didn’t care enough to ask what they were holding.

They sighed in relief when he answered, but that was quickly followed by a look of utter sadness and a wrinkle of the nose when they took in the sight and the smell of him. To summarise, Mark smelled of a bar that had been abandoned with all the bottles on the shelf opened. He looked even worse. He looked like a dead man. It was half true.

“Mark-”

“Did Damien send you?” He asked them, a hint of the resentment he felt for the mayor creeping into his voice.

(Y/n) shook their head. “ No. But he’s worried about you. It's been a month and a half and no one has heard from you.”

Was that it? It had only been around forty five days? It had felt like an eternity.

“I don’t care,” Mark whispered, letting even more of his resentment show as he began to shut the door.

(Y/n) shot their free hand out and pushed against the door, and for all that anger that he had towards Damien, he didn’t put up a fight when they opened it again. He didn’t feel the same way for the DA. They hadn’t known. And they had been the one to comfort him when he had discovered the affair. He felt nothing but a sort of love for the DA, but right now he wasn’t of the mind to share that with them. He was afraid that whatever he felt for them - be it friendship or something else - would be rejected. And he was too damaged from Celine and William to consider moving on.

They swallowed, “Mark, I’m here because I’m worried. You sent Chef and Benjamin home and there are never any lights on and you smell as if-” They had to take a deep breath before they continued, seemingly finding it difficult to keep their own emotions in check. “I’m sorry I haven’t been up as much as I would have liked to be. I promise I’ll try to be here more. But you need something to love. You need something to keep you company.”

With that, they brought their hidden hand out from behind their back. They held a fuzzy bundle as black as the night sky. For a second, he was confused until it opened its amber eyes and stared at him.

“A cat?”

(Y/n) looked almost bashful now. “I found him two days ago. He was abandoned on the side of the road. No owner and only about a year and a half old. No fleas or diseases either. He needs a home.”

They held the kitten out for him to take. He was so small. Small enough that he could easily be mistaken for a kitten. He briefly thought of rejecting this gift, but in the end the Actor reached out and gently took it from (y/n)’s hand. Something in his heart twisted when it snuggled into his chest and let out a high cry.

Mark looked back up at the DA, stared into their hopeful eyes. “I’ll try.”

They sighed in relief. “One week Mark. I’ll come and check on you in one week. I promise.”

Hesitantly, they leaned forward, brushing his cheek with their lips. And as they walked away, Mark reached up and touched where their lips had been.

He had watched the DA get in their car and drive away before taking the bag in and shutting the door before sliding down against it, the cat still bundled up against his chest. He rummaged through the bag, finding all the food and cat toys that (y/n) had hidden beneath the shower gel and soap. Bless them. 

He looked down. The little black bundle uncurled himself and looked up at Mark. It put its paws on his chest and stood upright, using Mark’s hand as a platform for support. He let out another little cry. Mark brought his head closer, and was a little surprised when it licked his nose and bumped itself against his face. It was as it was telling him it’s okay, I’m here now. Mark was interested to see how this was going to turn out.

Not that much followed for the rest of that day. Mark tried to name the kitten and failed. He fed him and tried to play with him, and when the clock struck midnight he took the cat up to bed with him and passed out.

***

Mark was cold. Colder than he’d ever been. He was caught in a blizzard, the snow coming down so thick that he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. His feet were numb. He barely had the strength to trudge through the snow, the cold sapping all of his strength like a leech. But he had to go on. He felt like something would be waiting for him if he could just keep moving.

Eventually he came to his mansion, the only sign of civilization on this frozen wasteland. The lights were on in the living room. He made his way to where the front door should have been, but to his horror he realized that it was gone, nothing but a brick wall in its place. He fought his way through the snow to press himself against the glass of the window to peer inside.

Celine was there. She was smiling and laughing, and Mark’s heart twisted and how beautiful she looked with a smile on her face. There had been a time where she had always wore that smile for him. Maybe that’s what this smile was for. Maybe she was waiting for him. 

And then he saw William, and the cold that pierced his heart had nothing to do with the blizzard. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting little kisses along her neck to make her giggle before she twisted around in his arms to kiss him deeply. 

Mark had to look away, the wound in his heart ripped freshly open. He felt something behind him, something dark. He was too afraid to turn around, even when he felt it idly play with the hair atop his head. Something so casual and yet it inspired such a deep feeling of fear in Mark that he was frozen.

This happiness is at your expense pet.

He didn’t like that. Both that whatever was behind him used a pet name as if to claim him and the fact of William and Celine’s relationship.

The kiss. They fuck. They spend their days together while you rot. It’s not fair is it?

It wasn’t fair. But he didn’t want to listen to this. He wanted to cover his ears and make it go away. But he was stuck. Frozen. A prisoner in his own body. He couldn’t even do a thing as he felt something long and cold - a finger most likely - trail up his spine through his thin robe. He didn’t want it touching him. 

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Doesn’t it?

You could make them feel what you feel. You could make them understand.

He could? He brought his eyes up to the window again. Celine and William’s passion had begun to pick up now, hands fumbling to take clothes off and share their love right in the Actor’s own home. 

He wanted them to understand. He wanted - 

A piercing shriek rang through the frozen hellscape and Mark felt a small piercing pain in his chest. It was as if he was being stabbed with a little needles. The presence behind him hissed, angry at the disruption. He felt it slither away into the storm. His vision began to fade at the edges, the shrieking getting louder and louder.

Mark’s eyes fluttered open. A dream. Just a bad dream. And the source of the shrieking as on his chest. His cat stood, kneading his claws through the fabric of Marks robe. When he lifted a hand to move him, the cat moved closer to his face to shriek even louder, desperately trying to wake him.

“Alright, alright. I’m awake,” he groggily said as he sat up.

The kitten stopped making that high-pitched wail, deciding instead to press his head up against Mark’s hand and give him affectionate licks. He needed to be fed. Mark picked the small bundle up in one hand and made his way down to the kitchen.

***    

The Actor hadn’t left his bedroom door open when he had gone down to feed the cat. He was sure that it had been shut firmly behind him. He stepped in, and realised that it was so much darker than it should have been. Memories flashed. He remembered Celine and him spending nights in each other's arms, him and Celine talking of the future, him and Celine speaking about the family they would start. That last memory hurt more than the others.

She’s planning this with William now.

That voice. The voice that haunted him both in dreams and in reality. And in that moment Mark knew that it was the one responsible for the absence of light. His bedroom had never been a place of such pain before this moment, even when all Actor had done was curl up with the pillow Celine had used.

She shares the dreams of a family with that Colonel.

Mark fell to his knees, afraid that they would give out on their own. He didn’t want to think about William and Celine’s future children. He hated them already.

The corner of the room, it was so much darker than the rest of it. No light would ever breach that dark stain. And he knew that that was where the voice was coming from. He stared, finding the shape of something so monstrous that the Actor’s mind could barely comprehend it.

And that stain grew. Grew until it was right in front of him and a long clawed finger reached out of that dark mass and used it to tilt Mark’s chin up. 

But you can stop it. Can stop them. Why should they be happy?

They didn’t deserve happiness. They had taken his. They had spit on his. 

Kill their chances. They don’t deserve them. I can help you. I can-

Mark was so hypnotized by the entity that he didn’t even see the black furry ball dart into the room. But he did notice when it planted itself between them and hissed and spat. The entity shrank back, and if Mark didn’t know better he would say it was afraid of the cat. The little black furball hissed and spat as if it was a black panther, screaming and yowling with so much anger that Mark was stunned. This cat was prepared to fight the being for him. It looked like it was about to lunge. It came to rescue him.

Without thinking, he scooped him up in a hand and bolted out of that room and slammed the door shut, shuddering at what had just gone down. And when he held the cat up to his face he couldn’t help but let out a small smile when it covered his nose with affectionate kisses.

***

It happened again. Mark had let the cat out to use the toilet, and he felt that being behind him. Felt those dark hands on his shoulder. Felt it slam the door shut to keep the cat out. And heard it whisper Damien.

Do you feel like a fool pet? Do you feel like a fool for trusting Damien? For helping him? Do you remember that scandal? The one where the Mayor was nearly exposed for gambling? It was a poker addiction was it not? He nearly gave away the entire town

Mark did remember. It hadn’t really been a scandal. Mark had got there before Damien did something drastic. Mark had paid off all his debts. Mark had paid for him to get private help to confront his addiction. Damien had said that now he would be forever in Mark’s debt.

So you do remember. You would think that a man in your debt would have told you your wife was fucking your brother.

Somewhere in the back of his head Mark knew what it was trying to do. But he was beginning to lose the will to fight. He hated this thing. Hated the way it touched him. Hated the way it called him pet. Hated the ownership it had over him. But it was so hard. And on top of that, the part of him that wanted revenge was growing. And he could do nothing to stop it.

It snaked a finger up his cheek like a lover. Mark wanted to vomit. 

Then the entity let out a cry. And when Mark wrench himself free of that grip he saw his cat. He was absolutely furious, and somehow had a mouthful of darkness and was tearing into it like there was no tomorrow. The entity dissipated, leaving to presumably go lick its wounds. He looked down at that furious bundle. How had he gotten in? The was only one window open on the second - 

Mark knelt. “Did you climb up to the second floor for me?” 

The cat just started to climb him, coming to a stop on his shoulder and rubbing its head against his face. Mark couldn’t describe just how much he was beginning to love this cat.

***

That thing had lost its patience. Mark could feel it. A dark cloud stood before him, that entity hiding within. He had come into the living room for. . . What had it been for? He couldn’t remember. All thoughts had fled his mind when he came back to face this dark cloud. From within, he heard the snake-like voice of the entity, no longer just a voice in his head to make him doubt his sanity. Tendrils of darkness reached out, spreading that ghastly darkness out through the room, wrapping it around him. Isolating him. He could see nothing beyond this blackness. 

She fucked him while you were married. She kissed you and told you she loved you all the while she was thinking of him. Would you like to know how long that went on?

Mark shook his head. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to-

A year. For an entire year she lied to year face. Neither of them even respected you enough to end the marriage first. She’d fuck you half-heartedly then leave your bed to meet him outside. So you remember your favourite spot in the garden? That was the place where they did it the most.

The Actor had proposed to her there.  

You see how little you mean? You want revenge. You want to make them suffer.

He did.

You want them to feel your pain.

He wanted to make them feel his pain.

You want their entire lives to fall apart before they even realize we were involved.

He wanted-

A familiar shriek rang through the air. Mark snapped his head to the side just in time to see his cat fly at the entity. The entity let out a scream of its own, and when the cat came close enough a tendril flicked out and smacked it away. The cat hit the far wall and slid to the ground, landing with a thud. It tried weakly to get up before collapsing back onto its side and letting out a pitiful meow.

Darkness closed in again. But all Mark saw was red.  

I can-

“Get out.”

Time stood still. And if Mark didn’t know any better he’d say that the entity was lost for words. Stunned into silence. 

I-

“Get. Out.”

The entity laughed. You think-

Mark threw his hands up and screamed, “This is my house! You’re trespassing! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

White hot fury coarsed through Mark’s veins. It had tried to kill his cat. His anger was so extreme that it radiated out of him like the darkness radiated out of this thing. He wouldn’t stand for things anymore. Celine and William, they weren’t worth his time. They were insignificant. He didn’t care about revenge. He wanted to forget them. And he wanted to be left alone by this creature to take care of his cat. And as that horrible creature’s influence started to release him, so too did that darkness start to dissipate. Something like real fear was in the air. But it wasn’t his. 

Wait! I-

“You tried to kill my cat.” Mark took a deep breath. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

The fear was thicker now, and that darkness shattered the living room window on its way out. Mark had felt lighter than he had in years. He rushed to his cat, scooping him up in his hands. The cat purred. He was going to be okay. 

“My guardian angel,” he murmured. “Angel.”

Mark wondered what to do next. Taking Angel to the vet would probably be best. Then maybe beg Chef and Benjamin to come back home. And maybe, just maybe, he could ask the DA to come over for a cup of coffee.

Things were going to be okay.  

[interdimensionalspaceworm]

alright lads, I almost forgot I was supposed to make this.

it’s the markiplier lore color post that I have made because I think way too much about these things

so let’s start at the very beginning (I've heard it’s a very good place to start)

(putting a thingy here because it’s probably going to be quite long; also, sorry for all the parentheses and the pretentiously complicated language)

Prologue

So at the beginning, the early egos, like Wilf and (not-yet-canon) Dark didn’t really have color schemes to them. It was just Mark doing weird shit (and it kinda still is, but I digress). Even in the cyndago days, Wilf didn’t really have consistency in his outfit choices, so beyond just pink there isn’t really a whole lot we can say about his color scheme at this point. And it isn’t really until the interview skits that he gained his classic outfit, with lots of pink, some tan, some white et cetera. We’ve all seen it, we all love it, and I think that these colors were picked just to look neat, to go well with the situation and with Wilf's flamboyant nature. All this starts to get more interesting, however, when we get to the lore proper.

The Lore™

I’d just like to say before I start that most of the things I will point out in this section are likely just coincidental. For example, Damien and Celine's association with blue and red respectively was most likely included in The Lore because those colors are most commonly associated with Dark's aura (although, in ADWM, his aura includes other colors, and in AHWM, it is overwhelmingly red, but that’s another post entirely). However, as the recovering game theory addict that I am, I enjoy making connections where none usually exist, and I've been thinking about this stuff for way too long. So enjoy! This means nothing!

I’m going to start with Actor, since he happens to be the center of all the lore, which I’m sure he’d be very happy to know. His color is red (any red, really, though he does share the color with his wife)- the robe he died in was red, he wears a red version of Damien's outfit in DAMIEN, and even in his appearances in ADWM and AHWM he has a red tie while he’s wearing his suit. So it’s safe to say that he is often associated with this color, and for good reason, of course: red is the color of energy, emotion, and anger, and Actor displays all of these (he is an actor, after all) in spades. But I believe that this choice of color is significant in another way. 

Several characters in The Lore have red, or a shade of red, associated with them. Actor uses it, Celine uses it, Colonel uses it (the handkerchief around his neck, his suspenders) and, as Wilf, he will later be very strongly associated with pink (side note: yes, I know it’s more of a magenta-ish pink than a light red, but bear with me). What does this mean? What do these specific characters have in common? Then it struck me.

In a word (or thirteen): all of these characters are known to be associated with the House Entity (I really wish we had a better name for it). And, by saying associated, I mean manipulated by it in different ways. The intensity of the red that they are associated with corresponds directly to the depth of their corruption: Actor's red is traditionally depicted as the darkest of the three, and as we all know, his connection to the Entity is the deepest, having been influenced into betraying his friends and gaining a myopic, narcissistic vision of the world due to it. Celine's red is still very saturated: as one-half-to-one-third of Dark, a corrupted version of her personality exists in him, and even on her own she has enough knowledge of the occult and connection with the Entity to create a time loop in which to house her brother. William is less straightforward: he was also, in some interpretations of WKM, influenced by the Entity as a child and/or while having his affair with Celine, hence the red he’s associated with as Colonel, but why the pink? 

First, imagine a laundry machine (please,,,, for the love of all that’s holy,,,, stay with me here). Today, you’re washing your white clothes. But there’s something you forgot: there’s a fucking red sock. In your valentino white clothes. Now all your nice clothes are fucking red. You try to wash it out as best you can, but the best you can do is make your formerly PERFECTLY OK white dress shirt pink. Fucking pink. You can try all you want, but you can never get rid of the traces that that red sock left behind. Wilf is the dress shirt in this scenario. He no longer uses red- the signal of corruption by the Entity- because he’s no longer connected with the Entity anymore. My theory is that, in going mad at the end of WKM, he somehow made his mind inhospitable to the Entity. His reality-altering powers stem from the Entity, most likely, and of course his mind was broken indirectly by it, but for the most part the Entity cannot possess him utterly like we see it do with Actor (for most, if not all, of the time we know him) and Celine (in that rather dramatic instance in WKM). He is free of its influence, but its traumatic power still hangs over him: the pink dress shirt stained by that long-gone red sock.

And so, as Wilford, William is associated with pink: traditionally the color of whimsy, and of love and compassion. Wilf has no lack of any of these: as we see in WMLW, he helps Abe out of his distress, and out of all the canon characters he is one of the few who actually seem to care about Y/N. And, of course, he’d never be complete without more than a bit of whimsy.

And then, finally, there’s Damien. He is associated, as we all know, with blue: the color of trust, confidence, and sincerity. This fits him well, clearly, and there’s not really too much to say about that: he is what he is.

As Dark, Damien and Celine's souls are twisted and their worst aspects brought to the forefront of their combined personality. This can also be seen in their color choices: red can be associated with anger, blue can be associated with coldness, and both these qualities can be seen in spades with Dark. It’s so fun when everything works out, huh?

To be honest, I could go on for ages about the use of color in all the other egos, the palette changing from greyscale to oversaturation and back in WMLW, and all kinds of other things. And I will. But not in this post. I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for ages and I hope y’all aren’t disappointed, but this is the product of like 5 whole minutes of thought, which is more than enough to tire me out. So I’m gonna end it here. Stay crazy, y’all!