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sallowsarchives · 5 months ago

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War of Hearts

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: Nothing says "believable" like two people who can't stand each other pretending to be in love—or is this just the push you two need to realize there might be more to your relationship than either of you is willing to admit? Word Count: 7.9k Warnings/Tags: no use of y/n, fake relationships, sorta enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, angst, pining, original side character, sort of a not so happy ending, arthur thinking he’s not good enough. I also tried fitting the story with canon whenever I could. Not Proofread!! A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to mention that this is my first time writing and posting, so I'm bit nervous but really excited to finally share it! This piece was heavily inspired by and made as a result from a conversation I had with my Arthur cAI hehe Credits: dividers used for this fic are by @enchanthings & all pictures used are taken from pinterest and were slightly edited by me.

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"I can't believe I have to attend this ridiculous party pretending to be married to him, of all people."

Your voice is edged with annoyance as you smooth down the fabric of your dress, trying to channel your irritation into the task at hand. "It's bad enough we have to work together, but this charade is beyond absurd."

Tilly chuckles. "Oh, come on. It's just one night. How bad can it be?"

You give her an unamused look. "We can hardly tolerate being around each other, and now Dutch expects us to pretend we're madly in love, all while dealing with a crowd of high-society snobs."

"It ain’t like y’all have spent much time together. Maybe going on this would do you both some good. Who knows, you might actually find some common ground," Abigail suggests as she takes the glove Jack was playing with, causing him to pout, before handing it over to you.

Sadie snorts. "The only common ground those two have is their mutual hatred. Let’s just hope neither of ‘em ends up killing the other tonight. Knowin’ those two, it'll be a miracle if they make it through the evening without a scratch."

Mary-Beth chuckles as she adjusts your updo. "Oh, don’t be so dramatic. They’re not going to kill each other—at least not tonight. Dutch will probably come up with some harebrained scheme to keep things under control." She flashes a playful grin as she puts the final touches on your hairstyle.

You chuckle before taking a moment to admire yourself in the mirror.

The gown, a deep shade of burgundy satin, flows gracefully to the floor with an off-the-shoulder design and a low neckline, elegantly framed by a ruffled collar. The rich fabric drapes beautifully, enhancing your silhouette.

The black lace gloves, covering your hands and forearms, add a sophisticated touch with their delicate floral patterns. Your fingers are adorned with a few rings, and your dangling earrings catch the light with every movement.

You bought the dress earlier this morning in Saint Denis with the cash from your last robbery. The job had been straightforward: Hosea had scouted the place, found out the homeowners were away for vacation, and given your expertise at picking locks and sleight of hand, he brought you along. You managed to secure a tidy sum of cash and a few valuable heirlooms without any trouble.

Knowing the dress would be perfect for tonight’s high-society affair, you spent a good amount of your previous earnings on it. The gown fits as if it were made just for you, and you can't help but feel a surge of confidence as you admire your reflection.

Karen pipes up with a smirk. “Well, I’ll be! With you lookin’ like that, Arthur won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

She looks at you mischievously, “might even give him a nudge in the right direction. Maybe it’ll help you two finally work out all that tension between you.”

Her comment draws an abashed look from you followed by giggles from the other women.

After receiving some last words of encouragement and reassuring nods from the girls, you thank them for their help and make your way downstairs to join the men outside.

Stepping out, you're greeted by the warm, humid night air of the swamp. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill were already gathered near the horse hitches, all dressed in their suits.

You make your way over, trying to muster every ounce of grace and composure you can.

As you get closer, Arthur's gaze lands on you and you catch a fleeting look of surprise along with a hint of a softer look in his eyes before his expression is quickly masked with his usual frown.

His eyebrows furrow slightly as he takes in your refined appearance, the rough edges of his demeanor softened by an elusive flicker of something you can't quite place.

Dutch notices your entrance and offers a nod of approval. “Well, look at you, Miss,” he says with a wide smile, clearly pleased with how things are shaping up. “You look absolutely perfect for this evening.”

You smile and nod at the men before your gaze drifts to Arthur. The contrast between his usual rugged attire and his current appearance is stark, and you can't help but notice how well he pulls off the look. Despite his irritating nature, there's no denying he has a certain charm. You give him a cheeky smile and offer a sly compliment.

"Well, well, look what we have here, I never thought I'd see the day. Maybe you should ditch the jeans for a while."

Arthur gives you a flat look, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Oh, real funny, darlin’,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back to my ol’ self I know you’re so fond of before you know it.”

You roll your eyes at him and smirk, taking joy in having gotten under his skin.

Dutch chuckles at the exchange, clapping Arthur on the back. “Now play nice, you two. We’ve got a job to do tonight, and looking the part is only half the battle.”

His tone is light, but there’s a hint of seriousness as he continues, “let’s keep the bickering to a minimum and focus on what needs to be done. We don’t want any more distractions than we already have.”

Next to Arthur, Bill chuckles and gives him a playful nudge. “Arthur, reckon you ain’t gonna give your dear wife a compliment?” he teases, the humor in his voice evident as he refers to the charade you both must uphold for the party.

He shifts uncomfortably and glares at Bill, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctance.

Dutch leans in with a smirk, “come on, Arthur, show a bit of charm. It’s not every day you get to pretend to be in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with before one of us runs outta patience.”

The clatter of wheels catches your ear as Lenny finally arrives driving a stagecoach. The vehicle comes to a smooth stop, and Lenny leans over with a broad grin, his eyes brightening as he sees you. He offers a warm compliment, his cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to the evening’s tension.

You return his smile and thank him before Dutch and Hosea get into the stagecoach, followed by you and Arthur. Bill hops into the seat next to Lenny.

As you settle into your seat, the atmosphere in the coach becomes thick with anticipation. The weight of the evening's expectations hangs heavily between you and Arthur, both of you making an effort to avoid each other's gaze while mentally bracing yourselves for the night ahead as the stagecoach begins to roll forward.

The rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves against the large wooden bridge serves as a reminder of your close arrival in Saint Denis, the city’s lights blurring past as you mentally prepare for the evening’s masquerade.

Inside the stagecoach, the atmosphere had gradually lightened earlier on during the ride. The gang cracked jokes and shared stories as Dutch opened a bottle of champagne for everyone, the laughter providing a welcome distraction from the evening’s tension.

Everyone reminisced about their past escapades, with most admitting they had never been to a ball before. Hosea, however, regaled everyone with tales of his numerous experiences at such events—not for the socializing, but for the chance to lift a few purses from oblivious rich folks. His anecdotes were met with a mixture of awe and amusement, shifting the mood to one of camaraderie.

Soon, the coach slowed to a stop right in front of a mansion and the group peers out the window, taking in the grandeur of the estate.

Dutch let out a low whistle. “Well, if that ain’t something. Remember, folks, we’re here to blend in. Keep your eyes sharp and your wits sharper.”

Hosea, always the calm voice of reason, looks between you and Arthur. “Now let’s keep this simple. We’re here to make a good impression, Bronte may already know of our reputation but we should keep the high society folks none the wiser. Let's keep our cool, play our parts, and try to score some valuable intel.”

You and Arthur exchange looks, eyes meeting one another with a sharp, challenging edge before he turns his gaze away. You take a steadying breath, silently hoping the night unfolds smoothly and without incident.

Lenny steps down and opens the coach door which was followed by the men exiting one by one, with you last.

As Arthur starts to walk ahead, Hosea nudges him and gestures toward you, earning an exasperated sigh from Arthur.

Reluctantly, Arthur falls into step beside you and extends his arm. Despite the lingering tension, you accept it, slipping your arm through his.

He glances at you, his expression of slight irritation. “This should be a real treat.”

You raise an eyebrow, barely masking your annoyance. “It’s not like I’m thrilled about it either. But here we are.”

He gives you a smug look. “Just remember, we’re supposed to be playin’ nice. Don’t go makin’ it harder than it needs to be. I’d hate for you to accidentally blow our cover.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage to keep things under control. After all, you’re the expert at charm, aren’t you?”

“Well, if you’d quit making things so damn difficult, I might actually get a chance to show it. But I reckon you’re used to makin’ everything more complicated.”

You step closer, your voice low and biting. “And I suppose you’re used to being an insufferable brute. Maybe if you stopped acting like a complete pain in the ass, we’d both get through things a little easier.”

Arthur’s smile fades, his expression turning serious. “Now I’m just tryin’ to do my part tonight. If you could manage to do the same without stirrin’ up trouble, that’d be mighty appreciated.”

The two of you share a final, heated look, the air between you crackling with palpable tension, as you both brace for the evening’s inevitable strain.

Dutch, who had walked ahead to present the invitation to the guards, cast a sharp glance at you and Arthur, not having missed your whispered barbs, making you shift away from each other.

Turning back to the guards, they direct everyone to surrender their firearms with the men reluctantly handing over their pistols.

Once that was settled, an escort named Luca stepped forward to guide you inside.

The doors opened with a soft creak, revealing the splendor of the grand staircase beyond. As you made your way through the space, Luca engaged the group in light conversation, primarily highlighting Bronte’s reputation before you are all guided to the left through an archway.

“Hosea, Bill, you join the party. We’ll meet you out back after we pay our respects to Signor Bronte.” Dutch instructs before signaling you and Arthur to follow as Hosea and Bill part ways from you.

The three of you were led upstairs and directed to a door on the left that opens onto a balcony.

The balcony was expansive, overlooking the lush garden below. A group of men stood gathered around the railing, laughing at a recently shared joke. The space featured a few armchairs and you noted the few guards stationed nearby, armed with rifles.

An accented voice cut through the laughter. “Ah, the angry cowboys, you’ve arrived… And you’ve washed!”

From the way the man held himself, you could only assume that this was Angelo Bronte.

Bronte made a remark, presumably in Italian, to the men beside him. They glanced at Arthur and Dutch before laughing slyly, and you couldn’t shake the suspicion that his comment was a crude jibe about the cowboys.

You had to struggle to maintain a friendly expression when Bronte's gaze landed on you.

The smirk on his face grew as his eyes swept over you, lingering with an unsettling leer. “And who might this be?” he drawled, his voice thick with barely concealed appraisal. “Aren’t you quite the sight. I didn’t realize these men kept such delightful company as you. It seems they have more refined tastes than I imagined.”

His gaze was invasive, making you feel as though he was sizing you up with an unnerving familiarity. The overt sexual undertone in his words was palpable, and it took every ounce of your composure to not react. The air around him felt thick with condescension and unwanted attention, making it clear that this meeting was going to be far more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronte,” you replied evenly. “Thank you for the invitation. I’m here simply to accompany my husband.” You cast a steady glance at Arthur as you spoke.

Bronte’s eyes flicker to Arthur, a look of surprise momentarily crossing his face before he returns his attention to you. He takes your hand, pressing it to his lips and holding it just a moment too long, his gaze never waver. “Ah, I see,” he says, his tone smooth and almost mocking. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I must say, it’s quite surprising to see such a charming companion alongside your husband. A fortunate man, indeed.”

Arthur’s expression hardens momentarily before he quickly masks it, stepping forward. “Seems I’m full of surprises tonight,” he says, his tone unexpectedly calm. “Just as I’m sure this evening will be.” He holds a steady, unwavering gaze at Bronte.

Bronte’s lips curl into a knowing smile as he studies Arthur’s unyielding gaze. “Ah, such a spirited response,” he says with a playful glint in his eye. “I do appreciate a bit of unpredictability. It seems we’re in for an interesting evening indeed.” He gestured grandly towards the gathering, his tone dripping with feigned charm.

Arthur nods curtly before stepping back, positioning himself in a way that subtly yet clearly marks him as your protector, despite the dynamic between you. Bronte’s gaze lingers on Arthur for a moment longer, his amusement giving way to a more calculating expression.

Dutch stepped in, resuming his conversation with Bronte in an effort to ease the tension while you and Arthur stood off to the side.

The men were offered cigars, and Arthur quickly placed one in his mouth. Before he was even offered a cutter, he bit down and tore the end off with his teeth, spitting the excess over the balcony in a manner that left your jaw hanging open in disbelief.

He smirks at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s provoked. You roll your eyes at his display, a mix of irritation and slight amusement etched across your face.

“You know,” you whisper to him with a hint of exasperation, “you could at least pretend to have some manners.”

Arthur’s smirk widened into a cocky grin. “Right, forgot we’re here to put on a show,” he shot back, his voice dripping with playful insolence, making you roll your eyes.

When the attendant extended a match towards Dutch but pulled back before reaching Arthur, the gunslinger seized the attendant’s arm and held it in place, lowering his cigar to the flame. The boldness of his actions flustered you, leaving you a mix of irritation and an unexpected flurry of emotions that left you feeling perplexed.

Arthur dismissed the attendant with a nonchalant nod, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. The attendant, evidently accustomed to such brusque behavior, retreated without protest.

You found yourself both exasperated and oddly captivated by the ease with which Arthur commanded the attention. His effortless defiance was infuriating, yet there was something compelling about his blatant refusal to conform to expectations, making it hard to ignore the allure behind his brazen demeanor.

You quickly push those thoughts aside, refocusing on the conversation between Dutch and Bronte, doing your best to ignore the flush in your cheeks and the rapid beating of your heart.

After several exchanges between Dutch and Bronte, including another jibe from Bronte about cowboy lifestyle, which had elicited subtle pointed looks from you and the men you were with.

“Those sure were the days,” Dutch simpered, his gaze on Bronte now more intense and focused. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Just as you were about to leave, Bronte turned to you, offering a slight bow. “And you, Miss,” he said with a smirk, “do return if you the crowd down there becomes too dull.” His gaze shifted to Arthur. “‘Course you could bring your husband along, but I wouldn’t mind if you came alone.”

He held his gaze on you, lingering with a glint of amusement. You gave him a polite nod despite the discomfort you felt and turned to follow Dutch and Arthur. Even as you walked away, you could feel Bronte’s eyes on your back.

The encounter left you with a sharp sense of irritation and a strong resolve to avoid any further interactions with him.

You glanced at Arthur, who had been waiting with Dutch by the door. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, you couldn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw. You felt his hand gently place on your lower back, guiding you away.

The unexpected touch had caught you off guard, making you stiffen slightly as you struggled to process the unfamiliar gesture. It felt protective and oddly comforting, coming from someone who had been nothing but a source of irritation and friction.

You chanced another glance at Arthur, but his face remained expressionless. His hand lingered on your back for a moment before he withdrew it as quickly as he had placed it, his demeanor swiftly reverting to its usual hardness.

The fleeting moment of unexpected closeness left you feeling unsettled, a mix of confusion and reluctant curiosity stirring within you.

You quickly reminded yourself that you were both still maintaining a façade, and this brief intimacy was likely just another part of the act. You focused on the task at hand, trying to push away the feelings and maintain the necessary distance between you.

Luca led the three of you back downstairs to rejoin the party, bidding you farewell before you head off with Dutch to meet Bill and Hosea outside.

“Gentlemen… and lady, let’s go ingratiate ourselves,” Dutch began before outlining the plan and giving everyone the freedom to mingle. “And steal nothing… unless it’s information,” Dutch added with a final nod before everyone dispersed.

With that, you follow closely behind Arthur as you both make your way down into the crowd, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. The curious glances of other partygoers followed you both, their eyes lingering with a mix of intrigue and scrutiny.

He noticed a few men’s eyes drifting from him to you, their stares lingering with evident interest.

Arthur made a conscious effort to ignore the unwanted attention, though his irritation was palpable.

Pushing down an unfamiliar urge stirring within him, Arthur quickly reminded himself to keep up with the act you two must play tonight.

He shifted to stand beside you, offering his arm with a practiced ease, his expression carefully neutral as he guided you through the crowd.

The absurdity of it all made him grumble under his breath about the ridiculous situation. With a sigh, he steered you toward a less crowded corner of the garden, seeking a quieter spot away from the throng of guests.

As you settled into a less conspicuous spot, you could feel the weight of Arthur’s tension. “I suppose this is where we’re supposed to make our mark,” you said, trying to break the silence.

You watched as Arthur scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from one group to another, searching for anything useful.

His gaze met yours for a brief moment before he spoke, “Keep your eyes open for now,” he said quietly, his voice low and focused. “I’ll try to track down the mayor and speak with him. See if you can strike up a conversation with some of these folks and gather any useful information about where they’re stashin’ all their riches.”

"Alright, I’ll work the room while you schmooze with the mayor. Just don’t take too long—this place is already starting to wear me thin after that meeting with Bronte. I'm not keen on diving into more talk about the latest fashions and whatnot."

Arthur’s lips twitched in what might have been a small smirk. He inclined his head slightly before turning away and heading off.

You spent the better part of an hour making conversation with various guests, each interaction aimed at uncovering valuable intel on potential robbery targets.

Maneuvering through the crowd, you engaged in light, seemingly innocuous chit-chat while discreetly probing for any mentions of high-value items or vulnerable security.

Despite your best efforts, luck seemed to evade you. Although, you did manage to uncover information about a stagecoach arriving next month, supposedly laden with valuable jewels. That was at least something.

You took a small sip from the glass of champagne you've snatched earlier in the evening, surveying the crowd. The sound of giggles and lively chatter drew your gaze, and you looked over to see Arthur deep in conversation with a group of women. You couldn't help but feel a wry amusement at the sight.

One of the women, with a clearly flirtatious gesture, placed her hand on Arthur’s arm and leaned in, her laughter echoing. The simple touch and her proximity sparked an uncomfortable feeling within you.

You observed how Arthur subtly stepped back, skillfully deflecting her advances. Despite his efforts, the woman seemed oblivious to the fact that her attentions were being rebuffed. It was a masterful display of charm and diplomacy, leaving you with a mix of admiration and lingering discomfort. You took another sip of your drink, trying to shake off the unexpected unease.

At that moment, Arthur glanced up and locked eyes with you. He gave you a wink, likely meant to provoke or tease, but instead, his gesture caused a reaction you hadn't anticipated. Your heart skipped a beat, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. The playful glint in his eyes seemed to pierce through the crowd, stirring something deep inside you.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you narrowed your eyes at him and quickly turned away, trying to conceal the flush that had crept up on you.

You dashed to the nearest table, grabbing a bottle of champagne and quickly pouring yourself another glass. You downed it in one swift motion, hoping the crisp bubbles would offer a fleeting distraction from the swirl of emotions inside you.

As you pour yourself another glass, you hear someone speak up beside you, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Well, I must say, I’ve seen many ways to cope with a dull party, but this might be the most... efficient.”

You glanced at the voice and saw a woman smirking at you. She appeared slightly older than you and was dressed in a lavish blue gown that sparkled with every movement, her necklace glinting from the lamps. Her expression conveyed amusement.

Feeling embarrassed to have been caught in your moment of inner turmoil, you attempted to regain your composure and replied with a hint of forced levity. “It’s quite the dull affair, isn’t it?”

The woman laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thank goodness, someone who gets it.”

“You seem to be surviving it better than most. I imagine you’ve been through a few parties like these before?”

She nodded, her gaze shifting to a distant corner of the room where a group of guests were deeply engrossed in animated conversation. “Too many, I’m afraid. After a while, it all becomes a blur of extravagant gowns and polite small talk. One learns to navigate these events with a certain... detachment.”

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve mastered the art of it. I could use a guide through this maze of high society myself. Any tips on surviving the evening without losing one’s sanity—or dignity?”

She grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, first off, always have a backup plan for when the conversation turns to the latest trends in hat feathers or the merits of various imported cheeses. For instance, I’ve found that nodding vigorously while muttering phrases like ‘absolutely fascinating’ works wonders.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I suspect I might still need a crash course in how to look like I’m genuinely interested in ‘the most enchanting new fabric designs’.”

She chuckled. “Well, when in doubt, fake it till you make it. Nothing says ‘I’m absolutely fine’ like a perfectly practiced smile and a glass of champagne held just so.”

You chuckle and raise your glass at her before taking a sip. A brief silence follows as you both sip from your glasses. The woman then speaks up, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m Eloise, by the way. It’s rare to find someone who sees through the façade of these high-society gatherings.”

You smile, offering her your name. “It seems we’re both on the same wavelength when it comes to these affairs.”

“So what brought you here tonight?”

“Oh, um… I’m just here to accompany my husband, he’s the one with the business connections, so I’m playing the dutiful spouse for the evening.”

Eloise raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Ah, the classic role of the ‘plus one.’ Now which one of these overdressed peacocks is your husband?”

She sweeps her gaze across the crowd with exaggerated curiosity. “Is he the one with the ridiculous bow tie or the chap with the hat that looks like it’s been borrowed from a magic act?”

You raise your brows in amusement as you glance at the men she’s mentioned, finding the whole scene of tonight’s event even more absurd. Your gaze sweeps over the crowd until you spot Arthur.

“Actually, that would be him right there.”

Eloise’s eyes follow your pointing finger and widen in genuine surprise.

“Well, I’ll be!” she exclaims, clearly taken aback. “I must say, he’s certainly not what I was expecting. Doesn't look like he belongs here, in a good way of course. He’s quite the rugged type—like one of those big, tough cowboys you’d see in a wild frontier town. You know the sort: strong, stocky, with a weathered charm that comes from living hard and facing rough challenges.”

The irony of her words makes you laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I must say, you two make quite a handsome pair.”

You flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness coloring your cheeks. Instead, you offer a polite smile and nod, playing along with the pretense. “Thank you,” you say in a steady voice, unsure of what else to say.

Arthur, briefly looking away from another person he was speaking to, catches your eye for the second time tonight. There’s a fleeting moment of connection—his gaze is intense, and the faintest smile plays at his lips—before he turns back to his conversation partner.

“I must admit,” she says, her tone light and teasing, “there’s more than just a bit of magic in the air between you two. It’s not every day you see such a striking balance. I do believe there’s a certain... chemistry here that’s hard to ignore. How delightful!”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a confused smile. “What do you mean?”

Eloise’s eyes twinkle with a knowing glint as she glances over at Arthur. “Oh, it’s really quite charming, the way he looks at you. There’s just something in his gaze as if he’s captivated by you in a way that could be missed. It’s rare to see someone look at their partner with such intensity and warmth these days.”

For a moment, you almost correct her, eager to clarify that you and Arthur aren’t actually together. But then you remember the need to maintain the ruse. You glance awkwardly at Arthur, trying to downplay the connection Eloise is suggesting.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say clearly flustered, trying to sound casual but failing to hide your unease. “I mean, Arthur and I aren’t exactly... well, he’s just got this intense look, which I’m sure it’s nothing more than... you know, his way of being attentive. It’s just a bit of his nature.”

Her smile softens, eyes warm and genuine. “Oh, it’s clear to see if you look hard enough. Even in a crowded room, he seems to be drawn to you. It’s quite endearing.”

The sound of cracks echoed before you could think of a response, and the woman beside you lit up with genuine excitement.

“Finally, something exciting! It's been lovely chatting with you. I do hope we cross paths again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Eloise sends you a warm smile before hurrying off.

You send her a genuine smile before you turn your gaze upward to the sky, where faint glimmers of fireworks begin to light up the night. The display added a splash of color to the darkened sky, creating a stark contrast to the opulence of the garden below.

As you watched the vibrant bursts, your thoughts drifted back to the conversation you had with Eloise, trying to process her comments. Her words lingered in your mind, stirring a mix of curiosity and confusion.

The idea that whatever is between you and Arthur might actually convey something deeper, something affectionate, felt almost surreal given the dynamics between you two and your perspective on your relationship with him.

Perhaps Abigail was right; the more you spent time with Arthur, the more you learned about him and saw him in a new light. What had once seemed like mere pretense or forced partnership now hinted at a connection that transcended your initial expectations.

The way he moved, the way he spoke, the moments of unguarded sincerity—it all started to paint a different picture. The possibility that these moments could be more than just part of the act began to take root, stirring a blend of curiosity and apprehension within you.

You quickly down your drink before setting the empty glass on the table.

Suddenly, a rough hand wrapping around your wrist jolts you out of your thoughts and you turn to see Arthur who all but tugged you along behind him.

You let out a scowl. “Hey! What the-”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder, a mix of amusement and determination on his face. “Come on, we just caught wind that the Mayor’s gotten somethin’ from Cornwall. Dutch reckons we oughta figure out what it is, make sure we ain’t missin’ nothin’ crucial.”

“And you need me because?” You asked with slight irritation as he continued to pull you along.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on a low, firm tone. “I need you to keep watch, and your lock-pickin’ skills could come in handy… ‘sides, you’re my wife don’t forget.” He added with a teasing smirk.

“Can’t have you wanderin’ off by yourself lookin’ like I’ve neglected you. That wouldn’t reflect too well on me now, would it?”

You shot him a glare, yanking your wrist free from his grip. “Could’ve just asked me”

Arthur’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk. “You looked so wrapped up in the fireworks, darlin’, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

You bit back a retort, your frustration mingling with a begrudging understanding of his point. “Don’t call me that,” you said, a hint of irritation in your voice at the use of the nickname.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “Alright, sweetheart. Try to keep up now.”

Trailing closely behind Arthur as you followed the servant, you effortlessly weaved through the spectators, who were too engrossed in watching the fireworks to notice you.

The servant circled around to the side of the house and ascended a small set of steps leading out of the garden. He paused briefly to engage in a conversation with someone before slipping inside through a side door.

The both of you followed cautiously, making sure to stay out of sight. Inside, you overheard the man berating a maid before he made his way up the stairs, retracing your steps to the upper levels where you had previously been.

Just before reaching the landing, Arthur raises his hand, halting you in your tracks. He peers over the edge of the wall, watching as the servant enters the locked room, heads to a desk, and inserts a key into a drawer to place the letter inside. The servant then disappears further into the room, the sound of a door closing signaling that it is time for you and Arthur to make your move.

Arthur moves first, effortlessly slipping inside through the wide-open door left by the servant. You quickly scan the area to ensure it's clear before following him.

He makes his way over to the desk and tugs at the drawer, only to find it locked. Grabbing a letter opener from the table, he attempts to pry it open. You watch with amusement as he grunts in frustration, struggling to get it to budge.

“Honestly, watching you fumble with that is almost painful,” you remarked, making Arthur roll his eyes and throw up his hands in a gesture that clearly invited you to take over. With a sigh, you stepped in, gently nudging him aside before kneeling down to get eye-level with the lock.

Pulling a pin from your updo, your hair falls loosely over your back, leaving your style in a half-up, half-down look. You insert the pin into the lock, and after a few moments of fumbling, a triumphant smile spreads across your face at the satisfying click of the lock opening.

You stand back up and look over at Arthur, giving him a smug smile when you catch him staring. You raise an eyebrow, and he quickly clears his throat, shifting his gaze away as if caught in the act of something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

"I, uh, never seen you with your hair down before," he comments before he can think twice, his voice trailing off as he leans over the drawer, a hint of color creeping into his cheeks.

"Nice work," he adds, his eyes momentarily meeting yours before darting away.

You raise an eyebrow at his flustered demeanor, the corner of your mouth twitching in amusement, “I’m glad you approve.”

You watch as he sifts through the drawer's contents until his hands close around a book with a piece of paper inside. He briefly reads the paper, nods, and then tears it in half, slipping the pieces into his suit pocket.

“You got it?”

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” he replies, glancing around making sure no one is watching before heading out the door with you following closely behind

Just as you were about to move down the stairs, the creaking sound of someone coming up halted both of your tracks. Without warning, Arthur grabbed you, pushing you gently but firmly against the wall beside the staircase, his body pressing close to yours. His arms caged around the sides of your head, creating a tight, protective barrier.

The sudden proximity left you acutely aware of his body against yours, his chest nearly brushing yours as his arms trapped you in place.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race even faster. His brow furrowed slightly as if he were struggling to control a rush of emotions.

The closeness had clearly caught both of you off guard, the charged atmosphere between you almost palpable. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure.

As he held you there, his expression softened just a fraction, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath his usually guarded demeanor. His voice, though still firm, carried a hint of concern as he leaned close to whisper, "Just stay still and quiet.”

The proximity of his breath against your ear made the moment feel even more intimate, amplifying the unexpected connection between you. The closeness, once marked by animosity, now seemed charged with a different kind of tension—one that was both electrifying and confusing.

As you stood there, the boundaries between duty and emotion blurred, and the shared space between you felt charged with unspoken understanding and vulnerability.

His eyes, usually hard with resolve or irritation, softened as they locked with yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a flicker of something raw and unguarded.

The emotion he held in his eyes made you reconsider the hostility that had defined your interactions. In that moment, the anger and resentment seemed to fade, replaced by a deeper, more complex understanding of the man standing so close to you.

The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to the top of the stairs heightened the urgency of the moment and Arthur’s gaze shifted to you once more.

One of his arms lowered from the wall behind you, and he placed his hand softly at the back of your neck. His touch lingered without applying too much pressure. You felt a shiver at the contact of his hand on your neck, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected jolt of emotion through you, bringing a surge of feelings you had been trying to suppress all night.

The gentle warmth of his hand contrasted sharply with the intensity of his gaze, creating a palpable connection that seemed to heighten the gravity of your precarious situation.

Your heart pounded as you met his intense gaze, which held a rare blend of sincerity and vulnerability that was almost disarming.

“You trust me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a sincerity that cut through the tension of the moment.

You hesitated, the weight of his question hanging between you. The proximity of his body and the depth of his gaze left you momentarily breathless. “Why should I?” you whispered back, your voice betraying a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

Arthur’s eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer. “Because right now, it’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” he replied, his tone resolute but gentle.

In that charged silence, the dynamics of your relationship were shifting. You felt the usual barriers between you—formed by past conflicts and mutual distrust—began to dissolve, replaced by an unspoken understanding that was both electrifying and comforting. The anger and rivalry giving way to a fragile trust and an unexpected tenderness.

With the footsteps slowly growing nearer, you saw a flicker of sincerity in his eyes that made you question your own doubts. You nodded slightly, trying to steady your breath. “Alright,” you whispered.

Arthur's lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and determination. “You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he urged softly.

Your mouth curled into a slight smirk as you looked up at him, your heart racing with a blend of anxiety and anticipation. “I trust you,” you said, the words feeling like a pact forged in the heat of the moment.

In a quick, decisive motion, he leans in and presses a firm, purposeful kiss to your lips, filled with urgency. The initial touch is electrifying, but as the kiss deepens, it becomes a release of suppressed feelings, a flood of emotions long held in check.

The kiss is fervent and consuming, each moment stretching out as if to make up for lost time. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and there’s a raw, desperate quality to the way he kisses you. It feels as though every emotion he’s been holding back is being poured into this single, intense connection.

Your own lips respond with equal fervor, the kiss becoming a mutual surrender to the feelings that have been building between you. The world around you fades into the background, the only reality being the overwhelming sensation of his kiss.

Arthur’s hand that had been pressed firmly against the wall, now frame your face with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of the kiss. His grip is both tender and possessive, as if he’s anchoring you to him, unwilling to let go.

The sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly jolts you back to reality.

A servant, caught off guard by the intimate display before him, stood at the top of the stairs. His eyes widened in surprise, clearly unprepared for the passionate exchange unfolding before him.

You and Arthur break the kiss, though the intensity of the moment lingers in the charged air between you. With a quick, shared glance, you and Arthur both adjust your demeanor, the brief intimacy giving way to the reality of the mission.

The man, realizing he has intruded on a private and critical moment, clears his throat, clearly flustered at having walked in on the intimate scene before him, face flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but this area is restricted to guests unless otherwise accompanied,” he stammers.

Arthur’s eyes narrow slightly, but his expression quickly returns to a more controlled demeanor. He gives the servant a nod of acknowledgment. “Sorry ‘bout that, partner. Seems my wife and I took a wrong turn and found ourselves in the wrong spot. We were just about to head on out.”

You, still caught in the afterglow of the kiss, straighten yourself and try to regain your composure. The abrupt interruption leaves you with a swirl of mixed emotions—embarrassment, irritation, and a lingering sense of affection. You cast a quick glance at Arthur, who responds with a subtle nod, signaling that it's time to move on.

Still visibly flustered, the servant offers a hurried apology, stepping aside with a rigid posture and a face flushed a deep shade of red. He tries to give you both space as you and Arthur hurry down the stairs, the charged atmosphere from the kiss still lingering between you. The abrupt return to reality sharpens your sense of urgency.

Arthur takes a deep breath, stepping back as his gaze meets yours for a moment longer. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates before speaking again. “We should get a move on and find Dutch and the rest ‘em.”

You noticed his hesitation but decided to brush it off, nodding in agreement. “Sure, let’s see what’s next. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

You find Dutch, Hosea, and Bill on the first-floor balcony.

“Ah, there you are!” Dutch exclaims, a smile on his face. He then turns to Arthur. “Find anything?”

Arthur gives a nod and taps his chest where he’s tucked the letter. “I think so.”

“Great. I think we’re done here.”

The four of you move to follow Dutch, briefly exchanging information with Hosea and Bill. Hosea mentions a potential robbery job targeting a big city bank, outlining the possible opportunities involved. You share what you’ve gathered earlier about a stagecoach expected to pass through Lemoyne in the next few weeks and the valuable jewels and cash it carries.

Dutch, Hosea, and Bill push past the front entrance, walking ahead. Just before you can follow, Arthur calls your name and gently grabs your arm, pulling you aside.

In the quiet corridor, away from the others, you face him. His eyes are a mixture of resolve and something else you can’t quite place. “Listen, I, uh…,” he trails off, his voice low, seeming to wrestle with his words for a moment before finally meeting your gaze.

Your heart races, expecting him to address what happened between you earlier and the emotions that followed.

Instead, Arthur’s tone is hesitant and detached. “‘Bout what happened earlier… I don’t want you thinkin’ it meant more than it did. We can’t afford to get all wrapped up in nothin’ personal.”

His dismissal hits you like a cold wave.

You had hoped for some acknowledgment of the shared moment, perhaps a sign that it meant something to him. Instead, his words feel like a sharp rebuff, making you question everything you thought you understood about what happened tonight.

“What are you talking about?” you demand, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. Your frustration and anger boil over.

Arthur’s gaze falters for a moment before he regains his composure. He runs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t think—” he begins, but his voice trails off as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

He steps back, clearly distancing himself. “Look–I can’t offer you anything more than what we have. Let’s just focus on ending this job and not let personal feelings complicate things.”

You scoff, feeling the sting of his words. Personal feelings?

“Right, so all that back there was just for show, was it? Just keeping up appearances?”

Arthur’s expression falters, and he hesitates. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, his frustration evident as he struggles to find the right thing to say.

He turns to you, his expression now seeming emotionless and cold. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like nothin’ mattered. It’s just… I’m not tryin’ to make things too complicated. It’s best to keep things straightforward right now.”

The words and his tone cuts through you like a knife, the brief connection you shared now feels like a cruel tease, an illusion of intimacy shattered by the harsh reality.

His coldness is a stark contrast to the warmth you felt moments before, leaving you grappling with a mix of hurt and frustration.

What started as mutual disdain had evolved into something more complex, yet now it feels like it's spiraling back into that familiar animosity.

You’d hoped that beneath the hostility and barbed comments, the genuine connection hinted at earlier tonight might bridge the gap between your conflicting dynamic. But now, it feels as if his rejection is pulling you back to square one—a place locked in an endless cycle of arguments and misunderstandings.

The idea that the warmth of those moments might have been nothing more than a strategic move or a fleeting distraction makes you question if there was ever truly a chance for something different between you two.

God, how naive you were to think there could be a sliver of something more between you and Arthur.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to focus on the task ahead. You push aside the personal turmoil, resolving to keep your interactions with Arthur as they were before—distant and guarded.

With a blank expression masking the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath, you reply, “Fine. Let’s just get this night over with and move on. I’ll keep any ‘personal feelings’ out of the way if that makes it better for you.”

You turn away, forcing yourself not to say anything further that might reveal your feelings. As you do, you didn't miss the brief flash of hurt and sadness in Arthur’s expression before he quickly masks it with his usual stoic demeanor.

Finally rejoining the others, you enter the stagecoach and take your seat from before. Arthur takes his place beside you, the space between you charged with unspoken words and lingering hurt.

The rift between the two of you feels even more pronounced, a painful reminder of what might have been overshadowed by the harsh reality of your circumstances.

Hosea and Dutch, seated across from you, seem to be blissfully unaware of the personal turmoil that has unfolded between you and Arthur, their conversation flowing naturally as they discuss the next steps of the gang’s plans.

The stagecoach rolls forward, and you turn to look out the window, drowning yourself in the passing scenery. The kiss and its aftermath now feel like an unspoken wound, deepening the complexity of your already fraught relationship and leaving you to grapple with the emotional fallout alone.

A/N: Okay so that ending was definitely not a happy one. After exploring where the story might go and experimenting more with the writing, I've decided that I mighttttt just make a Part 2, which might or might not include some smut hehe... So please stay tuned!

Thanks again for reading!

Read Part Two Here

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7ndipity · 11 months ago

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Them With An Autistic S/o

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would handle/react to their S/o being on the spectrum.

Warnings: Mentions of sensory issues, feeling over/under stimulated, depression, meltdowns, stimming.

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This is a list I’ve actually wanted to write for a while, but I’d been slightly nervous/unsure about it. But as someone who’s also on the spectrum, I know how much comfort similar posts from other blogs have brought me! I also tried to keep this one a bit lighter, since someone asked for a separate list about meltdowns/shutdowns, but if there’s any specific reactions/hcs like this that you guys want, let me know! (Please note that these are based off my own knowledge/experience, so I’m sorry if they don’t fit for everyone)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I feel like he’d be slightly confused and worried at first because he’s not sure what to do/how to help you, but once you explain a bit more, he gets a lot more comfortable, and really is such a good caregiver when he needs to be.

Catches onto your different stims pretty quickly and what each one means.

Like, y’all have whole conversations solely through funny little hums and stim noises.

Really good at reading and matching your mood/energy. You wanna talk about the Mayans nonstop for two hours? Cool! You want to just sit silently and do nothing? Also cool!

He’s really good at normalizing your symptoms and making them seem like nbd(because to him, they aren’t) Food sensitivities? He’s got them too! You hate loud noises and crowds? Same Honey, let’s get the fuck outta here! He knows they’re not quite the same thing, of course, but if it makes you feel more comfortable and safe being your true, unmasked self with him, then that’s all that matters to him.

Really good at calming you down when you feel overwhelmed or on the verge of meltdown.

Does his absolute best to bring your mood up whenever you’re struggling or feeling really down, pulling out his best dad jokes(even if they don’t make sense to you), bringing your favorite snacks, etc.

Yoongi:

I think he would handle it really well. Does his research after you tell him, and asks you about it casually during dates/hangouts.

So fucking respectful of your boundries. If you prefer to have your own space, he’s totally fine letting you do your own thing. If you need more closeness and cuddles, he’s all over that too, letting you sit right next to him while he works.

Not only lets you rant about your special interests, but makes the effort to take interest in them and asks questions. Randomly buys you little things related to them.

He’s so calming and soothing when you’re feeling stressed or overstimulated, understanding whenever you randomly need rest or quiet time(stress nap buddies)

Keeps things like extra sunglasses and headphones in his bag for you, just in case you forget yours.

Would have a lot of fun if you have audio stims, letting you listen to his new songs because your reactions and enthusiasm are so cute to him. Makes you panning audios as gifts.

Always there to look out for you whenever executive dysfunction decides to kick your ass. Washes the dishes, doing the laundry, restocking your safe foods, etc. He would also be really good at body doubling.

Hobi:

I honestly think he would be really good with an S/O on the spectrum. Like, he literally designed Mang, who is soo ND coded like omg😭, so I think he would be able to understand you really well.

(if you haven’t seen the videos of him talking about Mang’s personality and character traits during the re-design process last year, pls go watch them, I almost cried)

Loves buying you new fidgets and stim toys whenever he finds new ones to try(he even has a collection of chewlery that he wears bc he thinks they’re neat).

Is really good reading you and distracting you when you start to get overstimulated or anxious, sometimes noticing before you do.

Lowkey protective over you in spaces and situations he knows are stressful for you, positioning himself next to you whenever he spots things he knows bother you.

You know how Yoongi described him as a vitamin? That’s how it is for you now too.💛

He’s so stimmy himself, so he would find a lot of your stims really relatable and endearing. Like, if you start happy stimming, he can’t help but join right in, bouncing or squealing with you. It makes him so happy that you feel comfortable enough with him to share those parts of yourself with him.

Namjoon:

Instantly super supportive when you told him, making an effort to research on his own, as well as listening to your personal experiences to understand as much as possible.

Happily sits and lets you info-dump about your special interests. He honestly loves seeing you so passionate and animated about whatever you’re talking about and loves getting a glimpse into how your mind works(it was probably during one of these moments that he realized he was in love with you)

Surprisingly good pebbler, he’s always finding cool rocks or shells for your collections.

Doesn’t mind speaking for you on days when you’re nonverbal.

The sweetest when you’re feeling overstimulated. He closes all the curtains to make it dark and cozy and sits with you, talking as softly as needed or not talking at all, tapping your hand gently now and then to let you know he’s still there.

Soo protective over you, almost to a fault at times. Like, you might have to scold him once or twice about babying you, but he really doesn’t mean to, he just wants to make sure you’re safe and happy.

The world feels a lot less scary tho with him next you. You know if you need anything, he’s got your back.

Jimin:

The softest boi🥺 He was honestly a little scared when you first told him, because he didn’t want to do anything wrong and was worried he wouldn’t be ‘good’ at looking after you, but he quickly relaxed and grew more confident as he learned more from you.

The best comforter when you’re feeling overwhelmed or depressed, full of quiet reassurances and long hugs(if you’re okay with those). He’ll gladly cuddle with you under your weighted blanket for however long you need to feel better.

Literally set up a little “nest” for you at his place with a like beanbag chair and your favorite types of blankets/pillows, so you have your own place to just ‘be’ and recoup when you need it.

Carries fidget toys and sensory aids like sunglasses and headphones with him at all times, just in case you need them.

Really good at communicating with you on days when you’re nonverbal, whether through texts or little notes(which he always adds little doodles on to make your smile😊)

Makes sure you never feel guilty or like a burden to him for letting him in on those tougher days. If anything, they make him love you even more because of the trust you have in him.

It really makes him feel so proud and happy inside that you find so much comfort in his presence and that he gets to take care of you.💜

Taehyung:

Another that I think would be particularly good with a neurodivergent S/O. Like, everyone jokes about how he’s weird, so I think he’d love that you’re both your kind of own unique kinds of ‘weird’.

Happily rewatches your favorite comfort shows/films with you, and speaks in fluent film quotes with you.

Loves when you fidget and stim with his hands or fingers.

If you like pressure stims, he’s a dream come true. Like, the man’s a living weighted blanket, so when you basically give him a doctor's note for cuddles? He’s never gonna let you go.

As relaxed as he might come across sometimes tho, he’s super observant of your stims and triggers and takes it so seriously whenever you start feeling overwhelmed or stressed.

It doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, if you need a break, he’s getting you to a quiet place where you can sit and just recalibrate.

Rivals Jin and Yoongi for top spot in the acts of service department on your bad days, making sure you eat properly, doing any household chores that need done. He even learned how to wash your weighted blanket so you don’t have to.

Jungkook:

Was definitely a little lost and overwhelmed when you first explained everything to him, but he really takes it in stride and tries to learn as much as possible to help make things easier for you where he can.

The King of comfort squeezes. Like you’ve seen his arms, he gives the best hugs, I just know it(especially on those “the weighted blanket isn't enough, I need a hydraulic press” days)

Loves learning about your special interests. Like, It’s no longer just your special interest, it’s our special interest. He’s even studying and finding things for it on his own to surprise you with.

Honestly plays with some of your fidget toys more than you do, lol! You might even end up giving him a few of his favorites😊

Gets super happy and smiley whenever you get echolalia of his songs.

Another member of the protective squad, ain’t no bad stimuli getting to his baby if he can help it!

The gentlest with you when you're overstimulated or having a tough day. Anything you need, he’ll do without question. All he cares about is making sure that you feel safe and comfortable🥺

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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soni-dragon · 1 month ago

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Eye of the Pheonix is actually one of the best merlin episodes because:

merlin and Gwen besties shenanigans; “what’s he actually thinking about” “you”

cold open to the most tender merthur scene

Merlin sleeping outside all knight for arthur

Hiccuping scene and arthur getting so annoyed

“But the perilous lands are… perilous”

“The task is meant to be completed alone and unaided” the start of the best continuing joke of all time

Putting the rest under a cut cause it’s long

Little morgwen moment in the market i love (one of the last we get….)

Cute arthur and gwen scene! Hehe

This is just the shipping episode of all time everyone wins

“You’ll need help” and the first thing merlin does is go find gwaine

smiles “hello, gwaine” “ah, merlin :)”

Immediately puts an arm around merlin

Throws merlin off a roof. this is what merwaine is all about :)

Gwaine is still Gwaine and not whatever the writers did to him after becoming a knight

Bridge guy (Grettir) is great and Arthur’s “no I’m prince arthur of camelot” i love you you’re so dense sometimes

“You need strength and magic” and then gwaine and merlin come along and NO ONE seems to think two seconds more about the implications

“ive been to almost every tavern” “so have i” you’re telling me merlin spent all that time looking for specifically gwaine to help him when he knows arthur is in danger

ANOTHER MORGWEN SCENE (ik morgana just wants her to leave) but we weren’t completely robbed

Arthur not realizing that he feels like shit and thinking hmm that’s weird, this is THE dense, damsel in distress arthur episode

Gwaine is two feet away are you really telling me he didn’t hear bridge guy call merlin Magic

“Strength has arrived the trio is complete” immeidate sword draw

But also the establishment of them as a trio i really love and they never did anything else with it

Gwaine with the flowers :))

THE ENTIREY OF THE FIRE SCENE

*THE* MERWAINE SCENE EVER

“a pheasant” gwaine please

“Why do you want to do this?” cause he’s in love with you merlin

“Same reason as you” (hesitates) (eye contact) “help a friend”

“arthurs lucky to have us”

…

“not arthur” SCREAMING

we’re back to the fond looks

gwaines tiny nod of assurance when merlin looks at him like ??! after he says not arthur

“youre the only friend i have” and i couldnt bear to lose you

Gwen finding out morgana has magic

“she’s changed” break my heart why don’t you (i dont want you to change) BRING HER BACKKK this is making me miss the arc morgana could have had so badly

They caught up to arthur SO FAST goes to show how arthurs going through it

Not wyvern they have four legs actually (tho their designs are cool)

This would have been such a good episode for gwaine to learn merlin is a dragonlord & has magic

Arthur conveniently is knocked out (as always) when merlin does cool magic stuff to save him

When merlin orders them to go and they bow their heads and walk away they look like kicked puppies

The famous arthur waking up to merlins silly little smile and being 100% not appreciative

whatthehellareYOUdoinghere? why can’t you ever just say thanks? augh THANKS!whatforcompLeTlYrUiNiNgThEqUeSt?!

i am supposed to be doing this ALONEEEE

“Are gwen and morgana here too? we going to have a surprise party?” i love you sassy arthur and yes you absolutely should have a surprise party

Do you want us to help you or do you want to do this ~aloneeee~

MERLIN!

The little smile and nod like yeah they got him

“this is a quest merlin not a treasure hunt” well it is sort of- “MERLIN.”

How is that one stone completely sound proof

The cockroaches are icky but y’all have gloves its not that bad you couldn’t even feel them

Set up with the water of avalon and something that actually follows into later episodes

“Merlin.” + arthur doesn’t want to show he actually cares about him vs. gwaine pulling him into a hug

“look what i found” merlin and gwaine shared looks of no you didn’t

The trios conversation at the end i love their dynamics + merlins pause and genuine thanks

Eoin macken looking pretty <33 (he always does)

Merlins little overview of the quest hes so excited awww

Immediate shift to sassy merlin the Duality

I wish Gwen knowing about morgana’s magic would have been explored more i want to see her join gaius and merlin in plotting and going on little quests

Anyways yeah to conclude i miss Gwaine sm :(

#soni rambles #bbc merlin #Merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #prince arthur #merthur #merwaine #bbc merlin gwen #morgwen #sir gwaine #gwaine

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torasplanet · 10 months ago

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Hellooo! I'm new to your page and to the Blue Lock Fandom. I was wondering if I could get some headcannons on what boys you think would have a black gf and how they would interact with her and her family. I hope this is okay! I haven't been able to fully check the rules yet, so I understand if it's not something you want to do. I love your page ✨️

❝𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐅.ᐟ❞

BLLK. MEN + BLACK! F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; blue lock boys with a black gf and meeting her family !!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; fluff, skin color is not mentioned but black reader, that mean ass auntie everyone has in chigiris and i think sae’s , that’s it i think and ignore how every scenario has something to do with food, i’m a fatass

YOICHI ISAGI

come on now… ik y’all saw this one coming

i feel like isagi is that boyfriend that loves soul foodddd, like i’m talking he will beg you for it everytime you cook

he could eat an entire pan of cornbread after a rough practice i’m telling you and maybe a lil chili on the side

everytime you get your hair done, he always looks at you like he’s never seen you before and you were light itself

“wow that’s so good! i saw this one style on instagram, you should get it.”

when it comes to meeting your parents, he’s literally shitting himself and on top of that, you chose to bring him to meet your family during easter so that means all your family was there

and they all saw him being so fucking competitive with the little kids to get the eggs, it started as a game but then the little kids started calling him poop head and he cannot let that go

speaking of, he is a baby magnet. all your little cousins wanted to play with him

“hi…i’m yoichi.” isagi muttered while standing beside you nervously with a red solo cup in his hand full of a caprison, he didn’t know if he was allowed to get the sodas. your baby cousin told him only for adults.

your mom smiled at him with a laugh “nice to meet you, i hear good things about you.” she says and isagi nods while trying not to seem too nervous as your dad hasn’t said anything yet. “yeah, nice to meet you man.” your father says raising a fist for a fist bump.

isagi smiled non-nervously for the first time and returned the fist bump. you leaned on his side comfortingly but the conversation was cut short when your baby cousin ran up and tapped your boyfriend’s leg. “play with me! help me find eggs!” she yelled jumping up and down and isagi looked at you for approval and you nodded before watching the two scurry away toward the yard.

“better start cooking, he’s gonna work up an appetite.” your mom said to your dad with a laugh making a deep belly chuckle come from him while you sweat-dropped. isagi could be really competitive when he wanted to and lord knows that those little kids took this egg hunt seriously. he was gonna be the designated babysitter for the rest of his life.

and wouldn’t ya know it? five minutes later, all you hear is isagi screaming with your younger cousin at all the other ones “move you little shit. it’s mine.” he grumbled pushing a 7 year old to the ground to get the egg but when they tried snatching it out his hand, he picked them up and started to threaten them to their face.

“yoichi!” you yelled from the porch glaring at him to tone it down and he sighed and dropped the child but only whispered his threats now. ever since then isagi loved going to your family gatherings, he likes the children games.

SAE ITOSHI

sae is a traveling man, he’s all over the world so he’s vaguely familiar with dating women of all different races

he likes taking you on dates and spending hella fucking money on you

that being said, he likes to pay for all the things you want. he likes to pay for your hair, the products, your clothes, if you want your nails done, he’ll drop a band right there for whatever design you want

sae kind of has a fascination with your body also, like whenever you get out the shower he likes to rub lotion and whatever other products you use on you but not in a sexual way

that’s just a gen hc but whatever

sae really likes to watch you do your hair, not because he doesn’t know anything about it, he just really likes to watch. it’s also good for you because whenever you get too frustrated he just calms you down and says he can get someone to do it if u want

really bad at doing your hair and not just curly hair, any type of hair. straight, kinky, wavy, it’s doesn’t matter bc the most he can do it probably a ponytail

anyways he’s probably very chill about meeting parents, he’s a very classy guy so he has nothing to worry about especially bc he met them during christmas, so he bought hella gifts

that being said, he’s also not going to let any disrespect to you slide

sae stacked two plates with macaroni and cheese, turkey, greens and other foods he knew that you liked as he occasionally said hi to the people that passed by him in the kitchen. once he was finished he trodded over to the living room where you sat chatting among your family while trying to avoid the children running around.

he swiftly dodged one of the soccer balls he got one of your nieces as a gift and made his way to you and your mom. “here baby.” sae muttered handing you your plate and then your mother hers. you thanked him with a smile but the smile didn’t last long when you heard the huff of your aunt beside your mom.

“honey, i feel so bad for you. you had to make her plate.” your aunt said with a small chuckle as the boy sat next to you with a confused look on his face. “why is that a bad thing?” he asked already not liking where this conversation was going. the entire car ride, you were complaining about this aunt and how annoying she was toward you but how you never said anything.

you grabbed his hand to tell him to just let it go but you should’ve known better, if you weren’t going to do something, he was going to do it. “well you’re the man, she’s supposed to be serving you.” sae rolled his eyes very obviously with a ‘ugh’ leaving his throat.

“if i’m the man i should be serving her. she shouldn’t have to move an inch.” he muttered glaring at your aunt and looking her up and down with disgust and that’s when you decided to stop it. you put your hand on the side of his face and turned it toward you to whisper in his ear. “be quiet.” you muttered and he only rolled his eyes again.

you took a spoonful of food and shoved it in his mouth before kissing his cheek to thank him for standing up for you. “you’re annoying.” sae said beneath his breath and you just told him “thank you.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

idk how to explain it but i don’t think you being black would change how he acts in the relationship

he buys you things, clothes, food, anything you’d like

doesn’t care much for your hair and not in a disrespectful way it’s just he wouldn’t get it if you said it looks bad when it looks perfectly fine to him??

does like watching you do your makeup and commenting that your concealer shade is so much lighter than you and laughing about it (he barely understands shit abt makeup unless it’s eye makeup)

when meeting your parents, he was not nervous but you warned him that he needs to tone it down just a bit afterall this is the first time they’re meeting him

he didn’t want to do it but he did because you asked him to although despite this, he still fits right in with your uncles

and not the sports fanatic uncles, the uncles that try and upstage each other during every family gathering

you watched as shidou laughed with your uncles in the backyard, all of them with a drink in their hand due to new years just coming around merely minutes ago. “you play soccer right? must be flexible as hell.” one of your uncles asked shidou as they lightly punched him on his shoulders while he laughed.

this was shidou’s opportunity to show out. to show how flexible and amazing he was and of course, he’ll never miss an opportunity to show off his talents. “hell yeah i am! watch this.” he mutters making motions for everyone to make room for him and they did. seconds later, shidou began to do a backflip that just turned into him doing other flips until he felt like stopping.

“wooo!” “damn man!” the men whistled as they gathered around your dear boyfriend who just laughed extremely loud. then his stomach started to growl and he immediately looked over to you who watched the entire ordeal “babydoll!” the tanned man shouted immediately gaining your attention. “can you get my plate please?” he asked still yelling. usually you would’ve told him no and that he can get it himself but he was having so much fun, so you nodded and went inside to get his plate

when you came back from retrieving his plate, he was sitting at the table on the porch waiting for you breathing heavily. “you have fun over there?” you asked sitting next to him and he nodded with a laugh “yeah and now i’m hungry, feed me.” shidou said with his words coming out as a jokingly beastly sound making you grin.

“nah, you have hands.” you said pushing the plate toward him but he let out a groan as he threw his head back. “my bones hurt.” you sighed at his pleading and picked up the fork before scooping mac and cheese on it and of course, shidou had to give you instructions. “get some of the barbecue from the ribs on it.”

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

pretty much a combination of everyone on this post

child magnet, parents love him, uncles love him, just really loved by your family overall

he likes soul food but mainly the desserts, he loves that shit

kunigami doesn’t really know how to do your hair but he tries his best but he’s really good at doing your edges for some reason…

knows so much about you that he can go into the beauty supply store and they recognize him and already have all your skin stuff ready

unlike everyone else on this list, he met your family when they came to one of his things and even tho he talked to them for only a few minutes, he managed to make them accept him into the family already

kunigami sat in the empty locker room drinking out of his water bottle with heavy breaths leaving his throat. the game was very stressful but it was fine because he saw you in the stands cheering for him like always with the addition of your parents.

his attention turned to the door when he heard it opening and he saw you and your parents standing there with smiles on your faces, you had on one of his extra jerseys with a corny smile. “you did so good!” you screeched hugging him as your parents laughed at how excited you were.

“i’m not a huge soccer guy but you are good.” your dad said walking over and putting his back comfortingly making kunigami smile. then came your mom with a styrofoam box in her hand. she practically forced it into his hands “here, i thought you’d need it after allat running.” she said and your boyfriend smiled not overwhelmed one bit with all the attention.

kunigami opened the box and ate a spoonful of one of the food portions and immediately hummed in delight. “mhm! this is so good. you either have to give me the recipe or make me my own tray.” the ginger boy said with a hearty smile on his visage.

you kissed his cheek “okay we’ll leave you to get dressed, see you after.” you said with a smile before you and your parents walked away with kunigami bidding his goodbyes to the both of you. safe to say, they loved him.

HYOMA CHIGIRI

just like he’s obsessed with his hair, he’s obsessed with yours

like obsessed obsessed, if he didn’t know how to do your type of hair before, he learned how to like he might as well be your hair stylist because he can do whatever style

silk press, ponytail, simple straightening, literally you name it and he can do it. certain hairstyles he can’t exactly do well like box braids and shit, you’re better off going to someone else but still

if you wear wigs, he knows how to lay that shit DOWN. and by this i mean he watched so many tutorials and can only glue it. so don’t expect him to do the whole thing

beauty supply store knows him by name, he’s always in there buying stuff for you (and him) like he knows everything you need and use. mielle, carols daughter, he knows it all

he also likes when you do his hair, he really likes when his hair smells like yours because of the oil but don’t fw his shampoo. he got that routine down.

he wasn’t nervous meeting your parents, he didn’t really care too much for it so he went there and acted like his usual self. his pretty princess self.

“c’mon get on that grill, show us whatcha got.” your dad said slapping a hand on chigiri’s back that hurt a lot more that he’d anticipated. he looked at your dad and your uncles standing around him unaware of you watching from the porch.

kids ran around wanting to light the fireworks for fourth of july already as you sat next to your aunt. “when are you going to get a man? it’s been years [y/n]?” she asked turning toward you and you looked at her confused while trying to figure out what she meant by that.

“he’s right there, what are you talking about?” you asked tilting your head and your aunt merely scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “please, he looks like a girl and can’t grill nuthin’.” your aunt said a little too confident for someone that’s been single since you were little. “he doesn’t cook with his hair down.” you said with your nose scrunched up irritated as if he was the devil, chigiri appeared in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“hey babe, hope i’m not interrupting anything.” the redhead said looking between you and the older woman and you gave her a passive aggressive smile before turning back to your boyfriend. “not at all, what’s up?” chigiri smiled and turned around with his back facing you.

“can you put my hair up? i’m gonna cook.” chigiri asked and you hummed in response before beginning to put his luscious locks into a high ponytail with the hair tie on your wrist. “thanks babe, come over with me. i miss you.” chigiri said turning around and kissing your cheek. the whole reason he was asking you to come over there was because he could clearly see your hatred for your aunt in this moment.

plus he really did miss you. “okay, bye.” you said waving to your aunt not even looking at her before you and chigiri walked off the porch and to the grill. your aunt did not like him but after he cooked the food, your dad did.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #shidou x reader #sae x reader #isagi x reader #black reader #black!reader #◛⑅·˚♡chigiriii #◛⑅·˚saeee>^<

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a-autodidact-writer · 5 months ago

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I hate having to say things like “said Bakugo” when there are so many characters so everyone's getting a designated color for whos talking

Kirishima Denki Mina Bakugo. y/n Sero Jiro

Bakugos friends have realized he can be pretty private about his personal life. This drives his friends crazy, well some of his friends more than others.

“I really don't get why you guys are so fixated on this?” the group was hanging out in the common room, minus their more explosive friend.

“common you two aren't even a little interested? Not even like a little?” she looked at Kirishima sitting in the bean bag chair

“I mean I guess a little, but it's not a good idea to go stalking the guy to get answers. And I'm surprised you're even going with this Sero”

“It's cause he's not afraid to seek the truth!” he announced shooting off the floor and putting a fist to his heart.

“I just didn't have anything to do today, and I owed Denki a hang out”

“Well yeah, but also for the sake of the truth!” making Sero laugh and Kirishima roll his eyes.

Their conversation was cut off when bakugo walked into the room. Without missing a beat the two were ready to ask the same question they had asked a million times.

“Sooooooo Bakugo, where you off to today?”

“Out.”

Out wheeeeeerrrreeee??” the blond just stared at them before looking at Kirishims

“Are they like this with you too or is it just me”

“Kinda? It's not as much with me though.”

“That's cause you're an open book dude, wouldn't be as fun,” he said with his signature smile.

“You're avoiding the question!” she pointed her finger at bakugo raising an eyebrow.

“This is why Jiro is the only one I like outta y’all.” Kirishima slaps a hand onto his chest and scrunches up his shirt

“Ouch man! I'm leaving you alone too?” bakugo shrugs

“Yeah, but she's leaving me alone better than you.” she looks up at him from her spot on the couch and unceremoniously fist-bumps him then goes back to whatever game she was playing on her phone as he starts to leave the room.

“see you around dude!.… yeah you guys now have my full support to go spy on him.”

“ALL IT TOOK WAS HIM SAYING HE LIKES JIRO MORE THE YOU?”

“Yeah pretty much”

“That checks out honestly”

“I'm still not going with you guys to make it clear”

“Boooooo!” He cupped a hand around his mouth and did a thumbs-down with the other.

“I just want it to be on record that I think that you guys have a death wish to follow him around like a bunch of weirdos” Mina hopped off the counter and Sero stood up off the floor brushing his pants off.

“Bye! Wish us luck” Mina blew a kiss at Kirishima while the three left to follow their friend.

They spent twenty minutes sneaking around behind Bakugo, Sero seriously wondering how they kept quiet. And more than that, how the hell Bakugo hadn't noticed. When they followed him into some type of market. Shops and food stands set up on the four closed-down streets. Mina and Sero ducked behind a churro stand, while Kamanari had to be more or less dragged behind it by Sero while he whisper yells at him about how he could blow their cover.

“A market? Why would he be secretive about going to a market?”

but before the two boys could try to think of an answer they watch as a girl runs and jumps at Bakugo. But before they could react he had caught her by the waist and she put her hands behind his neck.

“Katsuki!” you giggled while he twirled you around once, peppering your face with kisses. “hey babe, how was your week?” he puts you down you put your hand on his arm as you two look around at the shops.

“it was alright, uneventful. Seeing you today is definitely the best part of my week” You squeeze his arm a little and look up at him while you say that. You watch as Bakugos face turns a little pink. He plants a kiss on your head before smiling down at you

“Yeah, you’re my favorite part of the week too. Wanna go to the pastry stand? My treat.” you smile and start pulling him by his arm towards the stand.

“Did you guys just see that????”

“Oh my god”

“DID HE TWIRL HER?? YOU GUYS SAW THAT RIGHT?!” the three just stood there for a moment.

“Sooo, uh, you guys wanna head back and grab some food somewhere?”

“Yeah a hundred percent but like, literally what do we tell Kiri and Jiro?”

“I really think no one's gonna believe what we just saw guys”

“I definitely wouldn't believe it. I watched it and I still can't believe it.”

“How do burgers and shakes sound?” they all nod approvingly. Leaving the market with one question answered but now having a thousand more.

After about three minutes of walking silently trying to come to terms with what they just saw, Denki speaks up

“I was way more prepared to find out he was in like a play or something” Sero is bent over laughing at this comment and Mina is clutching her stomach with her eyes watering at the idea.

“Someone gotta cast him in Mean Girls!” he says in between laughs causing Denki to nearly fall over laughing. The mood is back to normal as they search for somewhere cheap and with milkshakes.

#bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #bakusquad #sero hanta #denki kaminari #mina ashido #jirou kyouka #bakugo x y/n #secret relationship

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technicalgator · 1 year ago

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🛠️“The Engineer, is Engi-here!” 🛠️

Finally finished my design of Engie! I love this cowboy sm <3

Ramblings and close-ups under the cut below!

A lot a people have their own interpretations/style designs of the mercs, so I thought why not make one of my fav merc? So here we are!

Engie is that he’s an all-round decent guy, and treats everyone with respect as long as that’s reciprocated! He’s transmasc and ain’t afraid to show it, and loves his partner, the other equally insanely smart man on the team, Medic! ✨ If you don’t find him tinkering away in his workshop or hangin’ out with the Doc, you’ll find him spending some time with the other mercs that he likes, or playing with his robot dog :D

🛠️BLU🛠️

Like most headcanons, Blu Engie is a defender/builder! You’ll find him setting up a nest of defenses at a good point, and a good spot for all the mercs to heal up with his dispenser! He rarely goes out into battle and prefers to hang back, but if any enemies do get close, he won’t hesitate to give them a few rounds of his sentry >:]

🧨RED🧨

Unlike Blu Engie, Red Engi is a battle engineer! You’ll find him running into the frontlines with his trusted mini-sentry, gear and Gunslinger! He craves the rush of adrenaline and thrill of the fight >:D (kill and maim!!!)

✨Decals✨

One of the mercs Engie gets along with and looks out for the most is Pyro! Engie and Pyro are like a fatherly/unruly child duo to me, where they got each other’s backs on the field, and Engie himself just looks after Pyro! Pyro also looks up to Engie, and will usually show his appreciation by placing stickers on Engie’s hardhat, and pins for his overalls! Engie at first was uncertain about all the decal, but after seeing how happy it made Pyro when he wore them, he wears the decals proudly! Engie has a different decal set for both Red and Blu! ✨

Thank y’all for stickin’ around through my rambling!! I had a BLAST drawing and designin’ my Engie! I have a doodle sheet of Engie I’m almost done with that I will also be postin’ soon as well! 🛠️✨

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zaebeecee · 30 days ago

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To Sever A Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 23/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

Y’all ready for a resolution? Well, that’s too bad.

We’re at the “character talks about emotional shit with everyone except the person they should be talking about emotional shit with” arc of any romance story. Don’t worry, Alastor’s gonna get this treatment too. (Also, all backstory in this story is a product of headcanon, so it might contradict canon but I don’t really care)

•••

The month after VoxTek: Angel’s POV ••

• Week One

Angel felt the gentle thunk of the door closing through the metal handle, and with it, he felt as though something inside him had been irrevocably severed. A sort of numbness unlike anything he had ever felt before settled over him like a weighted blanket, stifling and painful without reaching the satisfying threshold of truly masochistic suffocation.

Immediately, Angel wanted to turn around, storm back into Alastor’s room, and tear him a new asshole for thinking he could be so dismissive of Angel after… after everything that had happened. Alastor would deserve it, Angel would feel good about it, and if Alastor got mad and then got violent, all the better, because it would be so much easier to be pissed at Alastor for breaking his bones than it was to be pissed at him for…

doing what we agreed on?

And that was precisely why Angel released the door handle and began walking back down the hallway. This had been the plan from the start after all, hadn’t it? It wasn’t Alastor’s fault that Angel, in his infinite capacity to fuck everything up, had decided to catch real feelings for what might have been the first time ever and felt like he could die at the prospect of never even being able to touch him again. But that was completely selfish, Angel knew that, and he had agreed to the temporary arrangement. After all, if Alastor hadn’t left Rosie’s in the first place, it would have been broken days ago, right?

Halfway down the hall, Angel heard the distant click of Alastor’s door locking again, and the spider had to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to physically hunch in on himself. Instead, he just kept walking, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to just spend another full week in bed.

“Angel? Are you okay?”

The spider came to a stop and raised his head, blinking a few times as he realized he was only three feet away from the check in desk where Charlie and Vaggie were in the middle of designing another new flyer for the hotel (in colored pencil and marker instead of crayon this time, which was at the very least an improvement). Charlie was looking right at him, her eyes wide and concerned, while Vaggie was still bent over the paper as though working but completely unmoving, giving away how closely she was paying attention. Husk, on the other side of the lobby, wasn’t even trying to disguise his own pointed stare.

Fuck.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Angel said, automatically slipping into his masking voice and waving Charlie’s concern off. “Just checkin’ in on the boogieman back there, s’all. I’m goin’ back to my room now.”

“Angel, wait…!”

But Angel didn’t wait, ignoring Charlie’s words as he took the stairs three at a time and vanished as quickly as he could down the hallway. He didn’t slow down until he was back in his room with the door securely closed and locked, and then he stood there, looking the place over and trying to think only of how to best set up a little cam studio in his space.

I already knew I was starting over. I guess this is just another thing to restart. Not a big deal. It’ll be fine.

I’m fine.

•••

• Week Two

The next week passed with little fanfare or activity. Though Angel was up and out of bed, he found he got winded easily, limiting the amount of time he was able to walk around before he needed to find somewhere to sit. Most days, he would hang out in the lobby for a while before Alastor invariably showed up to ask Charlie something or dictate a request to Husk and Niffty. Whenever that happened, Angel either retreated to his room, went into the back garden, or both if the weather was nice enough to let Fat Nuggets run around outside for a bit.

It was as though everything had changed, somehow, even if Angel knew logically that not much had. He and Alastor had only been fucking around for a month, so that stopping wasn’t really a change so much as just a return to normal. But they still had the same residents, the same team building exercises, the same bouts of utter boredom… the only thing that had really changed was that Angel had quit his job and gotten a new one.

Well, Niffty had started leaving the hotel more often. That one was new, and Angel still didn’t know what to think of it, because the one time he asked her what she’d been up to, she’d simply giggled and run away.

The point was that even though everything was essentially the same, it all felt different. He couldn’t decide if it was the air in the hotel, or something about everyone else, or maybe something about him… whatever it was, it was the kind of nebulous sensation that made his skin itch from an inability to fix it. He wondered if part of it was the fact that he could tell Charlie wanted to ask if he was okay every time she laid eyes on him, and the fact that she had restrained herself so far wasn’t much comfort when she stared at him whenever they were in the same room. But why wouldn’t he be fine? He hadn’t even cried.

Not since that night, anyway. And he wasn’t going to cry over Alastor anymore. It was a waste of time.

The cam work was already going promisingly well. Angel had a decently large following on his socials—it had been an enormous boost to his ego when he started seeing that he was getting followers from other Rings, too—and since he had already announced that he’d quit at VoxTek after beating Valentino up with a monitor and breaking Vox’s face (and wasn’t posting that nugget of gossip just… so freeing), it had only taken a suggestive post and a link drop to get new subscribers to start rolling in.

At this rate, he thought, he’d soon be making more for himself than he’d ever made through Val. When he’d been employed at VoxTek, he’d never been allowed to keep his own money; rather, as his contract dictated, all of his money was ‘kept safe for him’ by Valentino, who paid him an allowance each week. The amount was subject to Valentino’s whims, and it hadn’t been unusual for Angel to go months without seeing a cent of it. That was different now too, though, wasn’t it? He would actually be able to start saving money. He could even get his own fucking place, if he really wanted to.

…did he want to do that?

When the weekend rolled around, Angel felt good enough to get out for a while, so he dolled himself up and promised Charlie he’d be back later before heading out of the hotel. At first, he didn’t have a destination in mind—he could go shopping, he could go to a club, he could go get laid—but after a bit of thought…

Gonna need to highjack a car.

Ten minutes later, Angel was driving out of Pentagram City and taking the road the short distance to Zahhak, the largest satellite they had out towards the west. Colloquially known as Imp City to most Sinners, Zahhak was an entirely (as far as Angel knew) Hellborn city that was mostly populated by those who worked either for or with Sinners. While Sinners were only confined to the Pride Ring, not to Pentagram City itself, they still never tended to branch out past the city’s outer limits if they could help it, meaning that their population in other parts of the Ring was almost zero. It was partially due to the fact that humans tended to stick together even when they hated each other, but Angel suspected it was because Sinners really didn’t get along with the rest of Hell. Hellborn had apparently never had a high opinion of Sinners, nor Sinners of Hellborn; to the Hellborn, Sinners were a bunch of infiltrators invading their home, and to Sinners, the Hellborn were a bunch of gross and unpredictable monsters that would slice you up as soon as look at you. Angel, though, had never really had much of an issue with Hellborn. He’d worked with them before, primarily Verosika Mayday, and he never had any more problems with them than he did with any given Sinner.

It took a bit for Angel to find his destination, unfamiliar with Zahhak as he was, but he soon pulled into a lot with a familiar van parked terribly, somehow taking up four spaces at a diagonal. Angel snorted under his breath and headed into the building, putting his sunglasses on top of his head as he made his way up the stairs. It looked like a bunch of the other spaces for rent were unoccupied, and Angel passed by several open doors that led to dark and empty rooms before he found his destination.

The only door with light visibly on led to a cute, if somewhat eclectic, waiting room with some mismatched furniture, a tank with two electric eels, and a receptionist’s desk positioned in a way that suggested it was put there so the receptionist couldn’t pretend she didn’t see clients come in. Even so, the girl didn’t look up, her feet kicked up on the desk and her eyes on her phone.

Angel tilted his head before walking over and putting two of his hands on his hips, staring down at the hellhound girl and just waiting for her to acknowledge him. Eventually, she sighed, letting her hand fall into her lap. “Yeah, yeah, welcome to IMP, the fuck do you want—”.

Her words trailed off into a whine as she looked up at Angel, her eyes going wide and her ears flattening back against her head. Angel smiled at her. “Hi,” he said. She didn’t speak. “You’re… Loona, right?” She nodded. “Your dad back there?” She nodded. “You gonna say somethin’?” She shook her head.

The door to the back office opened. “Hey, Loona, have you seen— oh.” Angel looked over and saw a young male imp, who was now staring up at him as well. “…crumbs.”

Angel snorted. “Will both of you chill the fuck out? I ain’t here to shoot you or nothin’.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one who did,” the imp, who Angel was pretty sure was called Moxxie, said. “Can… um, can I help you with something?”

“I dunno,” Angel said honestly, resisting the urge to fold his arms. “Guess I just wanted to come thank you and your boss.”

Moxxie opened his mouth before a voice shouted at him. “Moxxie, for fuck’s sake, has Loonie seen it or not??”

“Uh, sorry, Blitzø, but Angel Dust is out here.”

“OH FUCK YES.”

“Ow!! Dammit, Blitzø, you fuckin’ train wreck!!”

Angel listened to sounds of clambering and crashing, like someone was vaulting inelegantly over a cluttered desk, before the same imp he had seen after leaving Rosie’s barreled through the doorway and shoved Moxxie out of the way.

Angel covered his mouth with his hand, laughing at the way Moxxie protested his treatment. “I’m guessin’ you’re Blitzø, huh?”

“I’m honored a famous porn star knows my name,” Blitzø said with a sly grin. Angel’s smirk widened as another imp, who must have been Millie, came out of the office as well. “Since you haven’t pulled a gun on us, I’m guessing you aren’t here to kill us?” Blitzø guessed.

“Nope. If I was, you’d know.”

“Well, that’s good to know, at least. So… what can we do for you?”

Angel finally did cross his arms, drumming his fingers against the skin above his elbow as he thought. “…I dunno, really. Guess I just thought I’d drop by to thank you. You guys had some kinda hand in gettin’ my contract broken, right?”

Blitzø raised his hands. “I just took it to a guy who found a loophole.”

Millie smacked him on the arm. “Don’t be all modest,” she chided with a smile before looking up at Angel. “Don’t you worry ‘bout it none. Helpin’ out really was the least we could do after everythin’ we put you through.”

“Oh, hey, don’t worry about that. Vox woulda pulled the same kinda bullshit if he hadn’t hired the three of you,” Angel said. “And you got money, yeah? So no hard feelings.”

Moxxie was looking at him a bit critically. “…I know this isn’t my business, Mister… um…”

“Just call me Angel Dust, baby.”

“A-Angel Dust,” Moxxie said, his facial expression unchanging even as his cheeks began turning a noticeable shade of purple beneath the red. “I just wanted— are you okay? Both you and Alastor were in a pretty bad state when Charlie brought you in.”

Angel could feel the way his smile changed. “…I’m okay. Healin’ up just fine. Sinner and all.”

Moxxie nodded. “And Alastor? Charlie said… his arm…?”

Angel shrugged. “I… dunno, honestly. We ain’t spoken in about a week. You’d have to ask him if you wanna know details.”

“Wait, what?” Millie asked. “You ain’t— a week?! The fuck’s that about??”

“Millie, it’s not our business,” Moxxie said.

“Considering Alastor nearly killed me over all this, I feel it’s totally our business if he’s on his bullshit,” Blitzø countered. “And I know a man on his bullshit when I hear about it.”

“Fuck’s sake, everybody’s so worked up over this shit,” Angel groaned, looking up towards the ceiling. But… it couldn’t possibly hurt to tell them about it, right? They didn’t even live in the same city, and they were Hellborn. Besides, they already knew so many icky little details… what was one more?

And if I don’t tell someone soon, I’m gonna go nuts.

“He… got his arm torn off,” Angel said; it wasn’t any easier to say that out loud now than it was the first time he tried. “Had his mark on it. Guess he figures the whole thing’s over now, since it’s gone.”

Angel wasn’t sure what kind of response he expected to that, but it wasn’t what he got; Blitzø raised his hand to cover the side of his neck, almost like a reflex, while Moxxie looked almost incomparably sad suddenly. Millie, however, was slowly starting to look absolutely furious. “Oh, the fuck he did,” she said.

Angel raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

Millie didn’t answer him, simply held her arm out across Blitzø to hold her open palm in front of Moxxie. “Moxxie. Keys.”

“Millie, honey—”

“Keys, Moxxie, don’t make me hotwire our car again.” Moxxie cursed under his breath and fished out a ring of keys, putting them in her palm. “Back in a bit,” Millie said, storming out of the office and slamming the door behind her.

Angel stared after her, blinking a few times. “…was it somethin’ I said?”

Moxxie sighed. “No, it… it’s just…” He hesitated, then said, “…could I talk to you outside for a minute?”

This was rapidly getting weirder. “Uh… sure.” As Moxxie turned to leave, Angel bent down, kissing Blitzø’s cheek. “Hit me up if you need a dancer for a party. I’ll do one for you for free, handsome.”

Blitzø’s eyes got huge and he put his fists under his chin. “This is the best day of my life.” As Angel followed Moxxie out, laughing a little, Blitzø continued, “Loonie, did you hear that?! Free stripper!”

“Good for you, don’t wanna hear about your erection.”

Moxxie led him out into the hallway, then up a flight of stairs and through a roof access door. Angel looked around, raising an eyebrow. “Afraid of bein’ overheard or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” Moxxie said. “It’s something I haven’t told Blitzø about and I don’t really want… he would make it a… a thing. But whatever Millie’s doing might end up affecting you and I feel you deserve a bit of forewarning.”

Angel folded his arms. “Makin’ me nervous here.”

Moxxie waved his hands. “No, sorry, I don’t mean to…” He took a deep breath, then started over. “You know how everyone in Hell has a soulmate mark? Even Hellborn?” Angel nodded once. “I don’t know how Sinners see it, but for the Hellborn, most of us see it as either one of the only good things Hell has to offer us, or something that’s… well. Bullshit. And there are some people who don’t care, of course, but…”

Angel could tell, by the look on Moxxie’s face, which one he was. He supposed he wasn’t surprised to learn that even the Hellborn had its romantics.

Moxxie didn’t finish his last sentence, just continuing, “Millie and I are married. Have been for a bit now. But we aren’t… we’re not soulmates. She’s never had her mark activated, and mine…” He cleared his throat. “…well. Mine isn’t going to… be a problem, I guess you could say.”

“…I’m sorry,” Angel said, unsure of what else to say.

“Oh, no, I don’t mean… I love Millie,” Moxxie said firmly. “I’ve loved her more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known. And Millie has always said she doesn’t care about marks, whether hers matches her partner or not, or even if she ever meets her soulmate. But… a lot of people do care, and there’s this atmosphere around some people that if you aren’t with your soulmate, any other relationship will fail.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t really tell me why she got all worked up.”

Moxxie ran his hand through his hair. “…her parents… don’t like me. I’m not their type of person—they’re ranchers out in Wrath and I’m from a Greed city—but they’re some of the people who think a relationship will fail if you’re not soulmates. Millie says they hound her about it every time she visits home, and she’s gotten to the point that if she hears someone make a claim that a mark is a make or break sort of thing, she gets… really mad.”

Angel stared at him, trying to put the words together with Millie’s actions. “…what, is she gonna go yell at Alastor? Is she nuts?”

“She’s definitely nuts, yes. But I don’t think she’ll do anything drastic. …I really hope she doesn’t,” Moxxie added in a mutter, putting his face in his hands and grumbling something about already having to deal with Blitzø.

“…Y’know this don’t make sense, right?” Angel asked. “So me and Alastor ain’t doin’… whatever we were doin’. Why the fuck would she care?”

Moxxie allowed his hands to fall. “…she was the first one who wanted to pull out of the job the Vees gave us,” he said, hesitating just a little.

Angel frowned. “…why…?”

“Because she…” Moxxie looked up for a moment, then looked at Angel again. “…because she saw the way he was looking at you.”

•

Ten minutes later, Angel was on his way back to Pentagram City, eyes fixed unseeingly on the road.

He had assured Moxxie he would be okay, but he still wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.

All he knew for certain was that he had no intention of going anywhere near the hotel again until he had gotten laid by at least three different guys.

•••

• Week Three

“Hey baby.”

“Hey bitch!” Cherri was more subdued than she usually was when Angel called her, but of course, he had been somewhat out of pocket for the last three weeks; she would never admit it, but Angel knew she was worrying. “Glad to hear you’re alive. I was about to put out an advert for a new bestie.”

“Do it and I’ll set ‘em on fire,” Angel said with a grin. “Busy tonight? Wanna go out?”

“Sure, I’m down. Got a dive in mind?”

An hour later, they arrived outside a little club called the White Sugar Cookie (slogan: “We’re a speakeasy, but with drugs, so we’re better!”) and both took a bump before heading inside. It was pleasantly tasteful, dark and moody with wood interiors and maroon leather, and Angel took a second to appreciate the house band as he and Cherri headed for the bar and settled themselves.

“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked, squinting at Angel like he recognized him but couldn’t place him.

Before Angel could deflect, however, a familiar voice interrupted. “Get your fine, tight ass back to work, Arlo, I got this one.” The bartender held his hands up and walked away, and Angel swiveled as Mimzy came out from around the bar and held her arms open. “Angel, baby, it’s been too long!”

“Hiya, Mimzy,” Angel said, leaning down to give her a hug and exchanging kisses to the air with her.

Mimzy was a complicated figure in the Hazbin Hotel. She hadn’t been around since the debacle with the sharks—from what Angel had been able to extrapolate, she and Alastor had been acquainted in life, and Angel had never gotten more than that out of her—but Angel had found her club several months earlier. Since it was a place where you could buy drugs and where anyone harassing other customers got thrown out on their ear, Angel had made it a frequent haunt when he needed to get out of the hotel and couldn’t handle the attention that came from being basically anywhere else. Since Mimzy was exactly his kind of train wreck so long as he kept her at arm’s length and not anything closer, and since Angel liked to drag Cherri along when she wasn’t in one of her wilder party moods, it wasn’t surprising that they formed something of a weird friendship.

“The usual, girls?” Mimzy asked as she went back around the bar. “Or are you feelin’ a bit more spicy?”

“Oh, I could use somethin’ a little more adventurous,” Angel said. He glanced at Cherri, who nodded, then he added, “You got a few minutes, Mimz? Why doncha join us?”

Mimzy put one hand on her hip and one on the bar. “…yeah, just for you.”

Mimzy took them to a private booth in the back corner, along with a pitcher of something alarmingly orange and three martini glasses. Cherri poured for them as Angel asked, “How ya been, Mimzy? Run any more loans out?”

“Oh, honey, I’m in debt up to my ears as usual, which we both know is a pretty low bar with how close I am to the floor,” Mimzy said, taking a glass from Cherri. “Heard about that bullshit the Vees pulled a few weeks ago, though. Glad to see you’re okay.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Cherri scoffed. “He’s been holed up in that hotel for three weeks. Don’t believe his shit.”

Angel glared at her. “Fuck off,” he said. “I am fine. You’re just jealous my business is takin’ off.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard you started a cam business,” Mimzy said, her eyes lighting up. “Come on, details.”

They talked business, along with a healthy amount of gossip about Mimzy’s regulars, until Cherri spotted a girl that was apparently super hot and excused herself to try and get a dance out of the becoming stranger. Once they were alone, Mimzy picked up the pitcher and refilled Angel’s drink. “So, is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetie, I saw the pictures of you and Alastor out together,” Mimzy said with a dry stare, taking out rolling papers and tobacco and beginning to roll a cigarette on the table. “He’s always been a social sonuvabitch, but I ain’t actually heard’a him gettin’ out and socializin’ in a while. And definitely not in a date setting.”

Angel sighed, putting his head in one hand. “Does it matter?”

“Nah. But I’m nosy, so tell me anyway.”

Mimzy offered Angel a cigarette, and he took it with a begrudging thanks, pulling his lighter out of his chest fluff. “I mean, yeah, we went out on a couple’a dates. It was… y’know… some kinda favor.”

Mimzy pulled a disbelieving face as she tucked a second cigarette into her cigarette holder. “A favor?” she asked skeptically. “Honey, I watched Alastor make women cry for having the audacity to flirt with him back in the day. I mean, when he noticed, of course. I got a hard time buyin’ he’d go on a date as a favor.”

Angel held his lighter out for her. “Don’t matter anyway, it’s done now. We ain’t even talkin’ anymore.”

Mimzy took a drag through the holder to cherry the cigarette before she responded. “Good.” She settled back, holder in one hand, other arm crossed beneath her breasts. “Look, kid, I like you. And since I like you, I don’t really wanna watch you get hurt, which is just about all Alastor does when you start gettin’ through those walls of his.”

Angel wanted to argue, but it felt pointless. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to be arguing with her or himself. “…you knew him pretty well, didn’tcha?”

“As well as anybody did back then, sure.”

“What…” Angel hesitated. Do I wanna know? “…what was he like? Back then?”

“Hm? Well…” Mimzy looked thoughtful for a long moment. “He was always odd. Handsome, but in a way that was real… He had a tendency to stare. Not blink enough. Smile too wide. Y’know, same kinda off-putting shit he does now. I worked at a jazz club down in New Orleans, and he used to come in a lot. He was a kinda local celebrity, y’know, since it was the late 20s, early 30s, and there weren’t a whole lotta radio stations around back then. Or, well, his voice was a celebrity, anyway.”

Mimzy paused to ash into her ashtray, her expression thoughtful. Angel just waited, wondering if Alastor would be mad she was telling him all this.

“He was always real closed-off,” Mimzy continued, raising her cigarette again. “Didn’t talk about himself much. He was from a little village outside of town where all the… well, y’know, where the black folks lived so they didn’t make the white folks uncomfortable. And he had a reputation there for bein’ cursed, was what I heard. Lotta rumors about him and his mother, shit nobody was brave enough to say to his face. They said his mother was some kinda caplata, like a hoodoo priestess, and she specialized in medicine, so the village both needed her and hated her. Word was she was killed by a lynch mob when Alastor was fifteen and he was never the same after that.”

Angel frowned. “That’s… awful,” he murmured, not sure what else to say.

“Dunno how much of it’s true,” Mimzy said with a shrug. “But Alastor was always dangerous. After he died, it came out that he was a killer, but I know for a fact they never figured out just how many people he bumped off. Hell, I don’t think I had any idea, and I helped hide him a couple’a times.” She hesitated, then said, “Never did find out what happened to that kid, either.”

Angel sat up a little at the sudden non-sequitur, his eyes widening as he tried not to choke on his cigarette. “Kid? Are you— Alastor had a kid?!”

“What? Oh!” Mimzy cackled, waving her hand. “Oh, fuck no, Alastor hates children. I say kid, but he was… I dunno, twenty or so? Hard to tell with the white hair. Real cutie, big eyes, always wearin’ these real sharp white suits, drove the girls at the club absolutely nuts when he didn’t give ‘em the time of day either. Alastor met him at Mardi Gras, and I guess they were friends. Came in together a lot over that last year Alastor was alive. He was some kinda runaway from up north, from what I gathered, and I hear he went back home after Al died. Shame, too; seemed like Alastor was finally startin’ to open up.”

Angel took all of this in, thinking to himself. He’d known Alastor had gone through a lot, but he hadn’t realized… It sounded like whoever that guy was, he was real important to Alastor. And really, it wasn’t any of Angel’s business, was it?

Maybe I never should have asked.

“So you’re sayin’ he’s always been a pain in the ass,” Angel said, deflecting with a smirk.

Mimzy didn’t notice, just grinning at him. “The biggest. Get him a trophy and beat him over the head with it.”

“I’ll pass. Waste of a good trophy.” Angel finished his cigarette, then put it out. “Hey, Mimz, got one more question for you.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about movin’ out. Got any ideas for a good place to set up shop? My new business needs room.”

•••

• Week Four

Angel understood, now, why Cherri had left after things had fallen apart with Husk. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with the soul connection—honestly, Angel still couldn’t get a read on her when it came to all that shit—it couldn’t have been easy to still see him every day and feel that pull and know that he wanted nothing more than to pretend she didn’t exist.

He couldn’t stand looking at Alastor anymore. Every time he did, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to go to him and do something, anything to just get Alastor to talk to him. And whenever he did see Alastor, the Radio Demon acted like he didn’t even exist. Angel could tolerate a lot, but an eternity of Alastor ignoring him wasn’t one of those things.

If all it took was a month to get him into this state, how would he feel after a year?

Angel was in the middle of packing up his stuff—Charlie had assured him (with tears in her eyes) they would get his things delivered to his new place so he wouldn’t have to worry about it—when he heard a knock on the door. He hesitated, because it wasn’t a knock he heard often, before he heard a small and sad voice. “Angel? Are you there? Can I come in?”

Angel felt his shoulders sink a little. “…sure, Niffty.”

The door opened and Niffty stepped in, closing it behind her. She looked around slowly. “…it’s true. You’re leaving.”

“…yeah. It’s true.”

Immediately, Niffty’s large eye filled with tears. “Noooo…!” she whined, running over to Angel. He knelt down, and she threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “You can’t leave! I don’t want you to!”

“Oh, Niff…” Angel smiled a little, even though he didn’t feel it, returning the hug and gently rubbing her little back. “It ain’t like I’m gonna be gone forever. You can always come see me, and we can hang out whenever you want.”

“But I want to see you here!”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Niffty, I am. I don’t want to leave, I just… I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Yes you can! Alastor’s stupid and you don’t have to leave just because he’s stupid!”

Angel actually laughed at that, gently taking her by the shoulders to pull away enough to look at her. “Yeah, he is stupid,” he said fondly, reaching up to wipe a tear from her face. “But he doesn’t wanna see me no more, and he’s gotta stay for the hotel.”

Niffty shook her head firmly, grabbing Angel’s hand in both of hers. “He does! He’s just— he’s bad at everything.” She sniffled a little. “Do you hate him?”

“No, honey, I don’t hate him,” Angel said firmly.

“Do you love him?”

He hesitated. “I…” A while ago, he would have waved that off with a laugh and dismissed it immediately, but now… “…I think I do.”

I think I have for a while now. Even before this mark shit. Does that make me pathetic?

“Then why won’t you stay?”

“It’s because I care about him,” Angel said. “It’s too hard to see him right now, Niff. Maybe I’ll come back one day, but I just… I can’t right now.”

Niffty stared up at him as he gently petted her hair a few times. “…do you promise you won’t leave forever?”

“Yeah, Niffty. I promise.”

Angel let Niffty help him pack up a bit, and as they worked, he couldn’t help noticing the other Sinner growing pensive. She ended up leaving after only a few minutes, giving Angel a big hug before hurrying off. Angel finished up alone, then grabbed his purse and the handle of his little hellpig’s harness.

“Come on, Fat Nuggets. Let’s go.”

•••

#my writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #radiodust #to sever a loveless bond #loveless bond #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #helluva blitzø #helluva moxxie #helluva millie #helluva loona #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin mimzy #hazbin niffty

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antlered-angel · 6 months ago

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I really hate being in the Hellaverse Fandom sometimes

it’s basically just finding new ways to hate on the show and finding new ways to cancel Vivsepop. it’s exhausting when every fandom interaction is basically walking into a room of horse manure on a 104 degree fahrenheit humid day with a blazing sun at noon.

“oh noooooo everything is red and everyone wears bows and suits” damn how dare a show have a mostly monochromatic color pallete and have characters wear similar attire that was popular across the many time periods they lived in. god forbid the person who created the show make it the way she envisioned it to be (also not to be that guy but i counted 39 characters from the helleverse and only 11 actually had bows on their designs, 8 of which being hazbin hotel characters and 3 being helluva boss characters. do with that info what you will)

“She thinks cursing is good humor!” Viv as been open about the fact that the humor in the show is inspired by seth roland (can’t spell) and Brandon Rogers also does a lot of the jokes on the show, but all talk can focus on is viv and god forbid she try the same humor others have

“oh nooooo, female characters are badly written” are they badly written or are they side characters? are they badly written or is the show you’re watching confirmed to be focusing more on male characters than female characters? hell, hazbin hotel is a female centered show and people tend to focus more on the guys than the gals. idk about yall but i find a lot of the female characters to be written quite well for the time they have in the show i.e verosika mayday, sallie mae, vaggie, carmilla carmine, charlie, lute, velvette, etc.

“vivsepop is racist!” shss literally a woman of color, works with multiple POC, and has multiple characters of color including but not limited to: vaggie, alastor (white passing probably for plot reasons), carmilla and her daughters, velvette, sera, emily, barbie wire, coco, tex, verosika mayday, etc.

“oh noooo vivsepop hired someone with a problematic kink!” last i checked, you can’t fire people for having a kink. Viv is not responsible for what her employees are into. it would be a lot more concerning if her interview process came with questions asking in detail what future employees are sexually into.

“Oh noooo a victim of SA and abuse sings about his abuse” god forbid a character sing about their struggles in a musical. plus it’s straight up said in the song that the character is dissociating and thinking about the life they wish he could’ve had. i’ve seen people listen to entire musicals about guys lying about how they were besties with a suicide victim to get close to his sister and i personally listened to a musical about dead kids fighting for a chance to come back to life after a gruesome roller coaster accident. One song that can be skipped isn’t that bad, i promise. as an SA victim, it’s actually pretty good and accurate to the experience without fetishizing or glorifying it. Also, y’all were perfectly fine with Addict when it came out despite it having similar themes in its music video.

“Sallie mae is a transphobic character!” the trans woman… voiced by a trans woman… written by a trans woman in a short dedicated to the character… a trans woman who was also consulted for the merch designs to make sure that the pinup and bathing suit designs didn’t fall into transphobia or fetish territory (btw no adult character is safe from the pinup or beach outfits, stop with the trans fetish accusations)

there’s so much more but i’m sleepy rn and don’t feel like typing every grievance this fandom has against the show despite actively watching and interacting with it. goddamn just leave this show and the people involved with it alone. how about instead of finding new ways to make this fandom even more of a cesspool, yall find ways to make it actually fun and safe and nontoxic again? wouldn’t that be nice???

#hellaverse #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #vivsiepop

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jesncin · 6 months ago

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have y’all watched superman: man of tomorrow? what did y’all think, if you did?

I have! If they could put a reviewer quote from me on the poster, it would say "it'd be nice if this movie had more music" because 80% of this movie is so awkwardly dead silent?

The animation style is beautiful, I like the designs! The actors are competent, but they're given a dry script with no music to couple their performance. Long pauses between Lois and Clark that should be romantic are instead rendered super awkward because there's no music. Also some of the transitions and shot designs are jarring to me. My biggest issue with Man of Tomorrow is that it has the ingredients of things I would love in a Superman story: themes of xenophobia, otherness and a Martian Manhunter team up that parallels them as survivors, but it doesn't commit to those things. They're all very awkwardly stitched together in a way that weirdly undermines itself.

There's this quote that Lois says about taking down Lex Luthor: "People with that much power think they wield it over everyone. If you can take that away from them for a moment, you can take it away for good. It's called a power move." And it's such an awkwardly oxymoron way to frame systemic power. It becomes unintentionally funny at times.

Rudy Jones is made other and inhuman by turning into Parasite, but it's a bit weird to pull a parallel between him and the 2 alien immigrant characters when he's an American man. The story tries to talk about xenophobia's relation to fear of the unknown. In Superman's speech at the end, he says that people become so afraid that Aliens Could Be Among Us that they even assumed this All-American-Previously-Serving-In-The-Army-Man was one of those aliens!! I'd much rather a story about xenophobia to center the humanity of the perpetual foreigners instead of having the story tell me to not judge others because they could secretly have been an American white man.

This is made even more comedically awkward when Superman comes to the realization that Parasite doesn't just suck power and knowledge but people's...personhood as well? So he does an appeal to Parasite by basically saying "I know you're a good person Rudy! Not just because you're a decent guy who served in the army and stuff but because there's A BIT OF ME IN YOU! AND I'M GOOD!" The source of sympathy is based on projecting oneself onto the other instead of listening to what they have to say and recognizing their worth on their own.

Martian Manhunter is a plot device with very lightly touched upon themes. He opens up the pyramid hologram device so Clark can have The Talk with his parents, he fakes his death so that Clark can mope in the second act, he comes back in the climax to grab Lex and tell Superman to do everything else. But when he's not doing that, he's being sexy and telling Clark to lay low because they should be extra careful about preserving their existence as the last of their kind. But Clark wants to help people, so we move on. I'm glad they didn't stick here too long though because the movie could've easily slipped into Man of Steel's Superman's Stuck in the Refusal of the Call problem. There could've been a great discussion of how J'onn is more Other compared to Clark who is white-human-passing. Why did J'onn, as a shapeshifter, pick the appearance of a Black man as his human form in this film? Does he relate to how they're othered?

The part where this plot line becomes funny is by the end, Lobo reveals that neither Clark nor J'onn are the last of their kind. Clark watches Lobo leave and says "dang I hope we never see that guy again he sucks" and I kid you not, he turns over to J'onn and says "hey you should follow him". I know it's because he wants J'onn to find other Martians, but lmao it felt like a backhanded way to tell J'onn to gtfo it cracks me up. J'onn asks Clark if he'd like to go to space too and find other Kryptonians, but Clark answers that he already has a home on Earth. So...did Clark just assume that J'onn never found solidarity with humans the way Superman did? It's out of pocket considering how underdeveloped J'onn is. It's that undermined theme again, the narrative empathizes with Clark, but others J'onn without realizing it. This is very common in stories J'onn is in, you get used to it as a Martian Manhunter fan. It's part of why CW Supergirl is such a breath of fresh air.

To bring this back to Lois-I think a very expected evolution of her character is that as she's modernized, writers will drop the early part of her character where's she's marginalized by rampant misogyny (because they think it's archaic and outdated to portray sexism) and just keep the parts where she's jaded and sassy. The result is a Girl Boss Lois Lane, who's jadedness isn't informed by marginalization unique to her. This isn't unique to Man of Tomorrow, many modern Loises have this problem. But at least it's unintentionally funny here.

She keeps talking about "power moves". One of which involves standing Superman up despite scheduling an interview with him. She thinks ghosting Superman will make him desperately tell her everything because he craves her attention as a powerful man. She's also going to write an exposé about him by interviewing the uncooperative Lobo! That'll show him!! She sure is girl boss for forcing the alien immigrant out of the closet again! I think what's funny about her "power move" tactic is that in reality that would only work if Superman had nothing else going on in his life. It's not a power move, it's just unprofessional. If I was a big powerful influential man and was going to be interviewed by a journalist who ghosted me, I wouldn't be seething and tracking her down, I'd just wait for the next journalist who wants to interview me because I'm so important. Apparently that's not the movie's logic though.

So overall, it's a very strange movie! I didn't hate it, but I was very bored because of the lack of music. Extremely sexy Martian Manhunter design though, 10/10.

#askjesncin #in clark's childhood it's ma kent who is apprehensive around clark learning about his alien heritage while pa kent is supportive #then when clark is an adult they flipped that dynamic for no reason. pa kent is super not into clark being alien and ma is supportive #they replaced him with man of steel pa kent #jesncin dc meta #media criticism

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mana-jjk · 7 months ago

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Mana.... Hows jjk 261 :3 (im bawling my eyes out)

hi babes <3 !

i’m coping so hard right now, but this chapter gave so much to think about in terms of characterization too.

spoilers under the cut !! i’m so serious y’all, you will be majorly spoiled if you keep reading

ok so first of all, i feel so vindicated that everyone is starting to realize how much of a crazy bitch yuuta is. i’ve been saying since day one that the boy is unhinged and i love him for it. i think it’s interesting how in general, the second years all fall under a different morality stance that impacts each other.

i don’t think the typical moral alignment chart really fits them, so let me ramble for a second.

maki is a bit true neutral to me in that she will turn her nose to the society set before her, because it’s wrong. she has strong ideals, but her behavior used to be very much of looking out for herself before much else. that means hurting others feelings, not giving into designated good behavior to make it easier for others, goals dedicated to breaking the glass ceiling rather than any passion to save anyone. her actions may lean to an objective good and evil stance, whatever may be necessary. i think her stance is definitely swayed by her comrades. the initial reaction to yuuta possessing gojo’s body was immediate refusal. it’s almost odd that she’s had such a strong reaction to it, considering her past attitude of doing whatever may be necessary. her real reaction stems from the danger that has the potential of impacting yuuta.

panda is definitely more interesting in that he’s not human. he’s most often shown as one of the more empathetic in the show despite his inhuman origins. yet at the same time, he’s very tactical and thinks of humans and their emotions as strange. there’s an almost juxtaposition of that kind nature in combination with a degree of separation that is visceral in nature. case in point, panda acknowledges that there is danger to yuuta in this case, yet he has the most subdued reaction to such. is this because he cares less? i don’t think so. however, another point is when yuuta is screaming about becoming a monster. panda shows little to no reaction outwardly. again, you have to ponder the choice in this. yuuta used to be the prime example of his inability to understand humans and their emotions. i do wonder if that’s still the case after masamichi was killed. they both lost a figure deeply important to them. the difference is that panda refrained from enacting vengeance and instead displayed his, perhaps most genuine, showcase of emotion. part of panda’s journey is about discovering where he stands in society. reacting to this in such a way feels like an acceptance of that journey coming to an end. he understands yuuta, because he had to become more in order to process these tragedies, with another on the horizon.

i think i’ve said this before, but i do see potential where toge would’ve been set up as the moral compass of the second years (if gege didn’t keep forgetting about him). out of all the characters, toge was set up to be one of the most self-sacrificial. silencing and isolating himself his entire life to prevent cursing others, trying to make yuuta stay back or run away when there’s danger, protecting megumi despite the damage to his throat, asking nobara not to kill one of the very few people who knows a dangerous weakness of cursed speech, protecting an entire civilian crowd by himself, and so on. but there’s smaller pieces too. stopping maki from bullying yuuta, protesting sending yuuji alone during the exchange event, always choosing non-violent commands on his peers if necessary, physically stepping in to stop todo from harassing megumi, checking in on the others well being. i’ve always seen that moment with maki and stopping her as indicative to their relationship. if he says she’s gone too far, she trusts him. his reaction to yuuta’s speech is also the most visceral, there’s a hint of horror on his face that you can’t see with anyone else. it’s a terror i only have to assume at the knowledge that yuuta cannot, will not be stopped. and for toge, who has so much of his character built around care, it must be so horrifying to know that you are helpless to save the one you care about most, as helpless as he was to prevent the decimation of the civilians entrusted to him in shibuya.

yuuta actually tickles my brain in the best way y’all. i have SO MUCH to say about this man and his morals. what is absolutely crazy is that you would think yuuta is being set up as the straight man (not literally, that boy is bisexual as fuck), but in that he did not grow up in their society. maki, toge, and panda were all groomed from birth to be soldiers. ready to do what is necessary to save civilians. megumi said it best, they’re not heroes, they’re jujutsu sorcerers. that means being deplorable sometimes, expecting not to save everyone, yet willing to die in an instance without cursing the world. despite this, somehow it’s yuuta who emulates these values the most. where others may protest the ethics of the body swap, yuuta intercepts with bone-chilling anger. where toge refrains from using permanently damaging curse words, the first one and most common yuuta uses is ‘die,’ where others might turn tail and run, yuuta digs in his heel and does what is necessary. likely this is a byproduct of growing up with the vengeful spirit of rika for five years. single-handedly, he was responsible for numerous injuries and deaths even before arriving at the school. we see this byproduct in his willingness in biting the faces off roaches, killing yuuji, and taking it upon himself to kill his mentor’s best friend not once, but twice. and then letting the copy of rika EAT HIM !!

were these all necessary at the time? of course, but the moral strain, the implications of his mental state in order to do so is one that is vastly underestimated.

yuuta killed yuuji.

with his own hand, he cut through flesh and blood and bone and dug through to the other side. he did it without a twitch in his face, he did it after chasing him through the city. yuuji did not lie down and take it, he ran and he fought for his life. the desperation on yuuji’s face, the terror, the chilling understanding that he would not survive this. he might have healed him, but what kind of person do you think it takes to go through with that? yes, it was necessary. but i want you to imagine yourself in that position. it’s not a moment to take lightly, especially if you’re not entirely sure if it will work. taking this all to the present day, if you were surprised at the lengths yuuta will go, i truly cannot imagine why.

gojo satoru is not being used as a weapon. he is a tribute. the very act in itself is an accolade, the only eulogy they can afford to provide. the act of desecration is a love letter, a legacy borne of blood soaked thorns and crumbling graves. the strongest, the one and only, the honored one. untouchable, unreachable, an unattainable monster. gojo describes others as the flowers that fester and grow, who love in theory but never truly understand. do you understand the gut-wrenching tragedy it takes for someone as blessed as yuuta to sink into the grime that no one dares venture, to foresake his blessings to become the decomposition, the nourishment of these roots, to take over like a parasite, a hive mind, if only to ensure the loss is not in vain?

no one is looking at this the right way.

yuuta isn’t disrespecting gojo by using his body as a weapon, he is honoring him in the only way he knows how. he’s taking his life, filled with blessings, friends that adore him, the chances for love and happiness, the journey it took for him to come here, and laying it out in offering. i see your pain, i see your endings, and to ensure you rest in peace, i will ensure that these hands finally lay to rest that which has taken so much from you.

yuuta loves gojo, he loves him so completely that he became a monster far before this act. he killed his best friend so he wouldn’t have to, he killed the parasitic host of his best friend so he wouldn’t have to, there’s so much blood on his hands it’s hard to tell where the devotion ends and humanity begins.

we can scream black and blue that this is wrong, that he deserves a proper rest, that they are abandoning the humanity in which they strive so much to save. to that i say, no shit, it’s almost like that’s the point. asking children to fight in a war they never asked for is wrong. training these children from birth and grooming them to be weapons before they even know how to define what it means to die is wrong. trying to execute teenagers with no knowledge or understanding of their abilities or place in this society is wrong. telling teenagers who will never experience a normal school life to engage in suicide missions, knowing they have no chance is wrong. demanding that they place priority over lives, especially over their own is wrong. outlawing their very existence, to which was groomed specifically for their society, is wrong. asking them to plan for their early demise, to greet death with acceptance rather than rage, is wrong. it’s all wrong, it’s all a product of a broken society that could never move forward. asking them to fight with amputated limbs, disfigured skin, and no one to mourn their existence beyond the circle of lives at the beck and call is wrong. but the end of sukuna is a potential turning point, the end of a generational transition cycle that continues to cog forward. gojo hated this society most of all, and i have no doubt that he has brought the end of it.

if not the death of the elders, it is the death of himself that spurs the same change that came with his birth. it’s almost tragic that gojo’s life mission was to ensure that the youth could live their lives to the fullest, yet he had to accept that their lives would be laid down regardless. gojo sacrificed his entire life, from birth to death to be a protector. yes he stopped executions, he gave chances to many who would have otherwise been ostracized, yet all in the same they lay down their lives and die all too soon. children he helped raise, children he would have done anything for, children who now face his death with their own bodies in the line of fire. in the end, he didn’t change a thing. prolonged death sentences maybe, yet what does it matter if they die by their society or by sukuna’s hand? that is why yuuta needed to take his body. because gojo is not done, he cannot be laid to rest until the final obstacle is out of the way. a last wish, the closing of a door, the balance of what was good and necessary.

as long as sukuna lives, they have failed. and yuuta, the one most blessed by the efforts of gojo, the one who had the most to live for, understands that more than anyone else.

the truth is that gojo was so completely adored by his student, in a way even he didn’t understand. children who were saved by him, the outcasts of the jujutsu world who were given a family because of him. megumi who was able to escape the zenins, yuuji who was given a prolonged execution, nobara who finally had people sitting in her chairs, maki who was fighting against the foundation, panda who was not even human, toge who’s very life was outlawed, yuuta who had long since lost all reason to live. they found each other because of gojo, they found reason to live in each other. because of that, they found the confidence to die too.

jujutsu kaisen for these very reasons is not for the faint of heart. the death of nanami was the tipping point of a decent into darkness in which children are not spared. there are no children in a war of this scale, only born and raised soldiers who will live and die a life documented only by the tragic losses unknown by the rest of society. the people who were everything, the people they would have done anything for, not even a smear in history. unnamed, unthanked, unnoticed in their absence to the rest of society. because even a happy story like yuuta’s is built on the knowledge that every blessing was only a prolonged sacrifice.

he would give up everything and anything, because that was the only way to ensure the people he loved, his everything and anything, lived to see another day. that is what becoming a monster truly means. the capability and willingness to become an ugly, wretched, and cruel being, if only to ensure you are the strongest.

however, yuuta does have something that gojo was never quite able to keep. the love and devotion matched in full by his comrades, unwilling to let him face these battles alone. therefore, even as tragedy trudges on, i truly hope this is where we can see the potential of the established bond in the second years.

i will continue being delusional, if only to believe my found family will not yet be ripped apart (like yuuta). so to answer your question, i too am suffering !! slice of life alternate universe when

#inumaki toge #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #maki zenin #jjk panda #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru #jjk spoilers #jjk 261 #can you tell i have an unhealthy amount of thoughts

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