#also half the time i get angry at either memories or arguing with people on my head RIPPPP anyway

[knightelf]

showering is and can be a beautiful thing except for if i dont want to

[edoro]

1 and 2 with Jackson for that ask meme?

i love how he is apparently The People's Favorite... tbh he's kind of my favorite too. precious babygirl. putting this under a cut because the very first answer contains a description of the twins' dad trying to murder-suicide them

What memory would your OC rather just forget? - oh it's hard to pick just one, honestly. there's a lot of stuff he wants to forget and a lot of things he has, in fact, forgotten! one of the worst that's very fresh and very hard for him to deal with, though, is the night his dad died. after a year and a half of hanging out with Emmy and Max and talking to them, Laurence tentatively brought up the idea that maybe one day he might move out and live on his own, and their dad absolutely flipped his shit about this. a lot of arguing and emotional manipulation and abuse ensued, and Laurence pretty quickly walked it back, but their dad knew that the idea was in his head, so after a month or so he decided to take matters into his own hands and ensure that if he couldn't have his twins, then no one could, and tried to do a murder-suicide. he came up with a sedative cocktail of pills, gave it to both the twins (at gunpoint), locked them in his room, and went around and covered the house in gas and set it on fire before coming in, taking it himself, and laying down with them to pass out and die in the fire. and all of this is horrifying, yeah, but the thing that Jackson wishes he just did not have to know or remember or hadn't happened from this evening is that Laurence took the pills. Jackson didn't - he swallowed them and then immediately made himself throw up as soon as their dad left the room, hid the mess, and started trying to figure out a way to get himself and Laurence the fuck out of this situation before they died. he ended up having to just lay down in bed with Laurence and pretend to be on the verge of passing out when their dad came back, and wait until their dad himself was too incapacitated to do anything to get Laurence up and drag him out of the house, which was very much On Fucking Fire at that point. and he has never forgotten or really gotten over the fact that Laurence was ready and willing to die when their dad wanted him to. that he wasn't going to fight or try to do anything to get out of it. that Laurence was going to just leave him. he was absolutely terrified that he was going to just end up alone in the world, with no idea what to do or how to take care of himself, and he feels deeply, deeply betrayed and sees it as a profound abandonment. he tries really hard not to think about it or let himself actually admit how angry and terrified he was and still is about it for a while, but eventually ends up exploding about it because that's not really the kind of thing you can successfully repress for very long.

What's something about your OC people wouldn't expect just from looking at them? - oooh hmm... after he's been on hormones for a while a lot of people get surprised by his voice. he has a pretty androgynous face even before hormones and afterwards he can very easily influence how he's perceived depending on how he dresses and what physical features/gender signifiers he highlights, so when he's intentionally presenting in a very femme manner he visually passes pretty easily, but he doesn't really bother with voice training. he is also like, batshit insane, and between him and Laurence he's definitely the more ruthless one, which is definitely at odds with his cute bubbly cheerful silly demeanor and presentation. most people would expect him to be very sweet, and he definitely is, but he also mostly only cares about a few people who are very close to him and is willing to go to pretty extreme lengths to protect them/himself. i think a lot of people might either just see him as cute and harmless or sort of a manic pixie dream girl and not realize that he's genuinely very mentally ill and debilitated by his symptoms a lot of the time.

[eviltothecore13]

New Wednesday fans--welcome to the Addams Family fandom!

I think this fandom has at least doubled in size over the past few months and it’s great to see so much appreciation for the Addams Family and for Wednesday as a character! (I feel like she’s been written off as someone who’s just cruel for no reason in popular culture for far too long--even though the 90s films already demonstrated that she has a strong awareness of injustice and cares a lot about her family--so seeing people truly appreciate her as a character and realise that she’s not actually a terrible person is honestly such a relief.)

I really enjoyed the new Wednesday show (it has its faults--but I also think SOME of the criticisms of it I’ve seen from some people in the Addams Family fandom are...not actually accurate or fair and are just based in nostalgia/distorted memories of previous versions) and I love several of the new characters it’s introduced, and I also love the show’s takes on the Addamses (I was particularly pleasantly surprised by Fester, who I all too often find annoying but was genuinely very funny in this).

I was somewhat caught off-guard by Wednesday/Enid having (last time I checked) twice as many fics as Gomez/Morticia (in the Addams Family category as a whole, not just when specifically looking at fics for the Netflix show), because I hadn’t realised how many people would start writing Addams fic who hadn’t written any before the new show--but at the same time, Wednesday/Enid is a great ship and I love their dynamic, so I’m not exactly complaining even though Gomez/Morticia will always be my favourite relationship in the series.

I also realise that when a lot of people enter an old and established fandom, especially when the new people outnumber the old fans, there’s a risk of the fandom becoming divided or the two groups being hostile to each other, and I REALLY don’t want that to happen.

Sometimes when this happens it’s caused by old fans being judgemental and unwelcoming. So, to my fellow Addams Family fans: please don’t do that. This includes if you see a headcanon or fic that’s clearly written by someone who’s only watched Wednesday and that you think gets things wrong about the Addamses...there’s A LOT of Addams media out there and it’s not fair to expect anyone to be an expert on all of it before writing their fic, especially if they’re hyperfixated on a new character like Enid. If you want to talk about misconceptions etc you can feel free but please can everyone be polite about it and not start yelling YOU’RE WRONG and FAKE FAN etc at people?

That being said, I do have a couple of pointers for new fans as well...

1) This fandom has historically not really been big on ship wars and “your ship vs my ship” teams, mostly because the canon tends not to be focussed on any romance other than Gomez/Morticia. Many of us enjoy having a fandom where people don’t constantly yell at each other over ships, so we’d...really appreciate it if Wednesday/Enid vs Wednesday/Tyler vs Wednesday/Xavier vs Wednesday/Bianca...didn’t turn into angry arguments and personal enmity and insults. Also, while I have nothing against people headcanoning Wednesday as a lesbian...please don’t tell people who see her as bi that they’re wrong, homophobic, OOC, etc. A bi character is not somehow a “lesser” form of representation than a lesbian character, they’re not “half-straight”, they’re still fully LGBTQA+. Wednesday has had relationships with guys in previous versions of canon, including the musical version of her marrying one--though since there was one production of the musical that portrayed that character as a woman instead, you could argue that she’s canonically bi in that she’s been depicted in relationships with guys and with women? either way saying “the idea that Wednesday would ever be interested in a guy is wrong and OOC and unthinkable and you’re homophobic if you even suggest it”...honestly just feels biphobic imo. Personally, I think Wednesday had more chemistry with Enid than with Tyler or Xavier, I don’t see Wednesday as into Xavier at all, and I don’t SHIP Wednesday/Tyler or think she was deeply in love with him--but she was into him enough to want to kiss him and I have a hard time seeing that as just comphet because I’m not sure anyone raised by the Addamses would really have comphet. Other people are always welcome to interpret things differently but just let’s not get hostile over it?

2) I’ve seen a MINORITY of Wednesday fans making some...really odd assumptions about Gomez. Assumptions that don’t really come from anything in the show--such as people portraying him as a bad husband and/or father even though he was literally willing to go to prison to protect Morticia, and Wednesday (not known for being easy to get compliments from) makes it very clear that she sees him as a good father. Or suggesting that Morticia doesn’t actually love him, which imo is pretty unfair on BOTH of them. The show’s version of Gomez doesn’t get a huge amount of screentime, but from what we’ve seen he really doesn’t seem that different to previous Gomezes to me (the main difference seems to be that he met Morticia as a teenager instead of in his 20s, and so generally had a better time at that age--he talks about Nevermore as “the best days of your life” etc when I can’t imagine previous Gomezes seeing school that way and most of them were to varying degrees an angsty mess before meeting Morticia--but that’s not THAT drastic a change in the grand scheme of things), but I’ve seen some people assuming things about him that were very rarely assumed about any previous version. I can’t help but feel like people are being unfair and harsh in their assumptions/headcanons about a character of colour in a way that they weren’t about versions of the character who are played by lighter-skinned actors, and some of the headcanons I’ve seen (I am not going to name names or call out anything specific here especially as some were clearly only intended as jokes/memes, especially the alignment chart ones and similar) felt like they played into stereotypes. (Also, Gomez and Morticia were the protagonists of many previous versions and so older fans will generally love them. If you go out of your way to portray them as horrible people...don’t be surprised if some people do get a bit defensive, especially as the show really doesn’t give you any reason to think that of them.)

Finally--I realise that some people might want to know more about previous versions and not know where to start, or might be overwhelmed by the amount of different stuff there is out there. I can’t promise to always be 100% objective because I do have versions I prefer over others, and I also can’t claim to be an expert on all versions (I haven’t really watched any animated TV shows, though I watched a few episodes of one of them once and had mixed feelings on it, and I haven’t finished watching the 90s live-action reboot TV show either), but...I do really love infodumping so...if people DO have questions about previous versions I would actually be really happy to try and answer them? And while I can’t make the time commitment to being a full beta for SPaG, writing style, etc...I am very happy to volunteer to do a quick characterisation check or general “person who knows lots of random facts about previous versions” check on fics if anyone wants that. Of course sometimes the answer to a question might be “it’s varied wildly between versions so it’s down to your personal preference” (and I would never try and force anyone towards my headcanons or even my own favourite versions--even if I MENTION them in my answers you’re obviously free to completely ignore anything I say), but other things ARE actually pretty consistent between versions--and since Wednesday has a lot of subtle callbacks to previous versions (especially the 60s show and the 90s films), I feel like there’s a lot of fun potential to include more stuff from previous versions in fics and headcanons.

This isn’t me trying to set myself up as some sort of Dictator Of The Canon because there’s so many versions that canon can only ever be loosely defined--I just feel like there’s a lot of fun stuff from older Addams media that I think people would enjoy knowing about but that can be easy to miss because of HOW MUCH stuff there is and how hard it can be to know where to start.

[transandersrights]

Vivienne, Fiona, and why their Redcliffe interaction SUCKS for Fiona

Currently thinking about: how Vivienne speaks to Fiona and what that looks like in the wider context of how we know people treat Fiona. 

Vivienne has two lines of dialogue that will come up when meeting with Fiona in ‘In Hushed Whispers’ - the first (at 0:15) is pretty reasonable (if Vivienne-standard levels of pointed/rude), commenting on how Fiona looks terrible, but the second (at 1:11) stands out to me.

Vivienne, when confronted with the knowledge that the rebel mages have sworn themselves into the service of the Tevinter Imperium, tells Fiona that her “dementia is showing.” Brushing aside everything I feel about casual, crude references to dementia (seriously, fuck non-serious depictions of or references to dementia), this is cruel, and especially so in Fiona’s specific context.

This line implies not only that Fiona has made a bad choice (which she has! One she doesn’t know the extent of and one she made in desperation, but that’s a whole other topic), but that she has forgotten why it’s not a good choice, that she is unsound to lead because she is unsound in mind.

This is immensely and monumentally disrespectful to Fiona. Now, I don’t know if Vivienne knows Fiona’s particular history (prior to the emergence of her magic, Fiona was a slave for seven years, from age 7-14. Fiona mentions in The Calling that she never tells anyone about it, but a lot of things have changed for her since then - it’s possible Vivienne is being either knowingly or unknowingly cruel here), but that’s not the point.

Fiona is smart. Vivienne might not think much of her, but Fiona is resourceful, intelligent, and a very quick thinker. She also has decades (likely at least one before she joined the Wardens, and then at least two and a half more after she left them) of Circle education and work, including making her way to the head of Circle politics. The point is: Fiona knows what the Tevinter Imperium is. She knows what slavery is. She knows exactly what that means for her as! An! Elf! Who has experienced slavery!!

Vivienne’s comment is therefore spiteful and incredibly cruel. Anyone with any sense (which Vivienne has in buckets) knows this isn’t a choice made lightly. She knows Fiona is perfectly, 100% aware of what this means - and she chooses to rub it in with something Fiona is intimately aware of (more on this momentarily): a suggestion that she has no idea what’s going on.

It’s possible to argue that Vivienne is referring to the Inquisitor having met Fiona in Val Royeaux, something Fiona likely experienced but has no memory of due to timeline fuckery (thanks, Alexius) - this makes the comment make more sense, but doesn’t minimise its cruelty, so bear with me as I explain why.

Fiona is referenced twice in DA2, in weapon descriptions that the vast majority of players will not read - Duncan’s axe, named after Fiona, and Kell’s bow (Kell is a Warden only in The Calling). The latter is pertinent here - the note left with the description of the Longbow of the Avvars, includes this section:

Her [Fiona’s] tales of this "darkspawn who speaks" must be a product of a fevered imagination.

The events of The Calling have three survivors: Maric (not a Grey Warden, and seemingly never asked to relay his version of events to the Wardens), Duncan (at the time of The Calling, the most junior Grey Warden in the Order in Orlais, but when the note was written in 9:20 he had been Commander in Ferelden for almost a decade), and Fiona. The Wardens, in the period between the final chapter and epilogue (~a year), get Duncan and Fiona’s testimony of a phenomenon that has never been known before (intelligent Darkspawn), send investigators… and later conclude that Fiona’s account specifically, with no mention of Duncan’s, is complete nonsense. She made it up, she dreamed it, she imagined it.

Fiona is shown, throughout The Calling (esp towards the beginning), to be sensitive to challenges to her knowledge, ability, and experiences. She’s particularly angry about the dismissal of her concerns about Maric (completely reasonable, given the combination of his less than stellar presence + her past experiences with nobility), her knowledge of the Fade (in response to Maric dismissing that dreams could ever mean anything), and others’ prejudice towards elves and mages.

She also refers, during Inquisition, to how she was glad to see the back of the Wardens because they began to resent her seemingly complete immunity to the taint. The Wardens didn’t like her. And they did the one thing she already hated most - dismissing her ability to actually know things.

When Vivienne speaks of how her “dementia is showing” in Redcliffe, it reads as an established jab. A trait Fiona has already been assigned, derogatorily, to suggest that her capacity to lead has faded and will only continue to do so. It is the kind of disparaging comment against her understanding of the world that Fiona has been enduring since at least her 20s (most likely, though her age is never stated beyond describing herself as old in Inquisition, by which point she’s probably at least in her 50s).

Tldr (I feel you, this is so long): Vivienne’s comment towards Fiona not only dismisses her personal experiences and knowledge but also forms a part of the consistent invalidation of Fiona’s mental capacity that has plagued her for most of her life.

[umbran6]

The Argument Against Caleo

Spoilers up to Blood of Olympus and beyond. Beware! (Or not, the book series has been out for a few years, get over it). I wrote this after seeing a user wondering why people didn’t like Caleo, or in some cases, hated it. Here, I want to explain the answer as much as possible while doling out my own points. 

One of the main grievances I have as a fan of Leo Valdez would be the ship Caleo, or Leo x Calypso. It’s a complicated ship, to say the least, with multiple issues that make me question why people like the ship. And I admit it, they initially had some chemistry, but there’s multiple issues that Uncle Rick produced through making such a relationship that makes it extremely open to criticism, criticism which I will explain through this post.

One of my main points against them is that the ship was created on a very limited time scale. Although we aren’t given an exact date to date of when Leo and Calypso met to when they fell in love, we can safely estimate it to be a week at best. Such a limited amount of time from going through the multiple stages of a relationship already stresses the limits of the suspension of disbelief.

A counterexample would be Percabeth, or Percy x Annabeth. Throughout the series, we aren’t introduced to them being romantically involved until the Titan’s Curse, which was two years after they met. Specifically, this is brought up by Aphrodite, the goddess of love herself. Admittedly, Percy and Annabeth were twelve years old when they first met, when romance was definitely out of the picture, especially with a quest to get the Master Bolt.

However, from there we get to see multiple examples of their character depth, ranging from their respective fatal flaws to their ambitions, hopes and dreams, and their friendship. We get to see the slow build up of their chemistry, which was a really good writing move on Uncle Rick’s part. These characters took their sweet time to get to where they wanted to go, and despite the false romantic lead of Rachel, they still got together.

On the other hand, we don’t see enough of this between Leo and Calypso — we only see one book where they interacted with each other in The House of Hades, and that was only for a handful of chapters. While they are definitely older so they can jump straight to romance (some may say too old, but I’ll get to that) its still a pretty huge gap to jump through without making it stick. This makes it hard to root for a ship when it is built on a rather faulty foundation from the ‘they just met’ to ‘they get together’, especially when they don’t have a lot of events to show their chemistry.

Which brings me to Ogygia, which has raised a few red flags for me when looking at it from a retrospective point of view. Now, we know what the main issue of the island is that the hero who landed on said island can’t leave until Calypso falls in love with them. And we’ve seen this with Percy during the Battle of the Labyrinth, where he lands in the island and Calypso falls in love with him while tending to his wounds from, you know, being erupted from freaking Mt. St. Helens. Needless to say, this falling in love with each other montage happened quickly to the point of suspicion, which sets up the complication that Calypso and Leo might have fallen in love due to magical intervention.

And hear me out, because although this  might be a pretty big pill to swallow, we have evidence for this through Percy. It only takes one chapter for Calypso and Percy to meet, and the next he’s willing to consider leaving Camp Half-Blood and Annabeth behind to live on the island when Hephaestus gives him the choice to leave Ogygia or stay. We don’t even get an explanation on why Percy considered giving it all up just so he can be with her. All we know is, girl meets boy, now they want to live on an isolated island forever. It’s especially absurd considering Percy’s hamartia (fatal flaw) is freaking loyalty to those he loves.  Needless to say, It’s a huge YIKES, especially when we apply it to Leo and Calypso. 

It also raises the possibility that the romantic relationship between them is doomed to failure. And if you guys want to fight me on this, let’s look at Jason and Piper, a couple whose relationship started with a similar foundation. Piper had romantic memories implanted into her brain by Hera through the use of the Mist, while Jason was reduced to a Tabula Rasa (a blank slate for those who lack culture) by said goddess. They broke up before the Trials of Apollo because it was clear that when the dust settled, Piper had been aware that their romance was a lie and that their intentions to stay together was a mix of delusion and pressure from freaking Aphrodite. Leo and Calypso get together under what is arguably a very similar set of conditions if Ogygia’s magic had any influence on their relationship, and that this magic could wear off if given enough time. 

Third, and here’s a pretty big one for me, would be Calypso’s character, mainly because there are a lot of unfortunate implications attached to it. In The Blood of Olympus, she was turned into the divine equivalent of Princess Peach, with Leo being her Mario (except he saves her with a badass metal dragon). Its extremely unnecessary to make a character, especially as one such as Calypso, get  turned into the typical reward of a B-Class action movie. It’s insulting and puts her up as a trophy, a narrative that is definitely not ok by any means necessary.

In another direction, Calypso is also really, really worrying when things don’t go get her way. First, let’s look at The Odyssey, the first myth she pops up. Calypso had imprisoned Odysseus for ten years on her island until Hermes said to let him go, and although it gives them plenty of time to fall in love, it also raises the implications of stockholm syndrome. Then we’ve got the fact that Calypso cursed Annabeth out of spite, implicitly saying that she wished the daughter of Athena would suffer the same isolation that she did, which came to reality when Percy and Annabeth met the Arai in Tartarus. And Annabeth wasn’t even aware that she was still in Ogygia, much less intentionally intervened in the matter. When Percy left Ogygia, rather than be angry at Percy, Calypso cursed Annabeth out of all people to suffer the same loneliness and misery she went through. That’s some Hera at her worst levels of spite. 

Through such evidence we can see that Calypso is extremely wrathful towards those who break her heart even though they don’t want to. It certainly implies that Calypso isn’t in a good state of mind, and could easily repeat said actions if provoked. We could almost compare it to Medea and the original Jason, but at least in that case, Medea has every right to be pissed off at Jason and take her revenge. Calypso’s curse and how she handles things certainly implies a level of immaturity that would end in disaster if they broke up.

One issue that, I’ll admit is more from my personal point of view is that the ship took a lot of Leo’s character and threw it in the garbage in Blood of Olympus. Though we see him do a lot of stuff behind the scenes, the fact that its all for the goal of reaching Calypso just reduced him to someone who is more focused on love than, you know, fighting the evil goddess that was responsible for killing his mom and getting sweet sweet revenge. While the revenge plot can be cliched sometimes, it can be played well, while romance and the typical ‘always save the girl’ trope is just overdone. If Leo had been allowed to, you know, be more focused on other things rather than Calypso, we could have seen a lot more variety in his character.

For example as one of the possible character arcs he could’ve gone through, Leo has always been alone among the couples, often being isolated. Heck, Nemesis herself stated that he would always be the seventh wheel, and that he would never find a place among his brethren. Though some fellow tumblr users have taken this in multiple ways, either saying that he should learn to be happy by himself or that he is socially isolated in the Argo II because of these romantic relationships (I prefer a mix of both). Uncle Rick just giving him a girlfriend seems like taking the easy way out of solving such an issue and abandoning what could’ve been a rather interesting character arc. The relationship isn’t a bad thing if we remove some of the unfortunate implications, but it is a bad way to end what is a complex and realistic problem for a character and in some cases maybe possible in real life.

One more minor but still yikes worthy point is that there’s a huge age gap between them. We’re not talking about the ‘Hazel is 15 and Frank is 17 and in one year that’ll be a problem because then Hazel will be jailbait’ age gap. And even then, we can argue that Hazel is older since she is chronologically ninety-one years old. No, Calypso is older by millennia in terms of mindset and body due to the perks of being a goddess, while Leo is sixteen.

God-to-Mortal relationships are already complicated, even with emotionally and socially well-functioning adults. The fact that Leo is underage, inexperienced with romance (despite his flirting, Calypso was his first kiss), and has been through a freaking ton of trauma in his youth, does not make this okay. At best, they’re both mutually interested in each other but may have different expectations when it comes to a relationship. At worst, Calypso is taking advantage of a boy just so she can get out of Ogygia and possibly dumping him later on like the wrapping of a candy bar. Even though Calypso lost her immortality during The Trials of Apollo, that doesn’t even compensate for the immense age gap alongside Leo’s guilt at the possibility that he might’ve been responsible for her losing said immortality.

Oh, and about Leo... I’m a fan of him, but I can admit that he is in a bad spot both mentally and emotionally throughout the series. He’s lost his mom due to a mix of his own powers and Gaea’s trickery, and never had the chance to fully process that event and come to terms with it. The foster home system alongside his own trauma has forced him to hide his emotions through a façade of happiness and jokes when it’s quite clear to me he needs a therapist, stat. He's also run away from several foster homes, implying this means he was and still is being affected by the event. His mask is still on during The Blood of Olympus considering he hid a lot of things from Piper and Jason.

Speaking about them, not helping this matter is the fact that he’s rather isolated in terms of friendships since Jason and Piper, his supposed best friends are more interested in locking lip rather than, you know, actually hanging out with each other.  He doesn’t have good friendships with the rest of the Seven, and the closest ones he does have is with Hazel and Frank. And even then they start off in the wrong spot since Frank is very insecure about possibly losing Hazel to him during Mark of Athena while Hazel in the meantime, is also dealing with the fact that he is the descendant of her possible boyfriend Sammy Valdez. 

This could indirectly have made him desperate for affection since he has nobody else to confide in during the rest of the series, which is a bad mental state to be in when one lands on Ogygia, the island that we’ve seen could possibly force two people to fall in love with each other. A romantic relationship is not something that he needs or something that will help him in the future. He needs more than that, and having him in one that could end in disaster is the last thing he needs. 

And that does not make him a bad person, much less a bad character. While some who are similarly emotionally and socially isolated may turn to violence or creepy behavior on those they want affection from, Leo does not do that to the other characters. It just means that he as a character needs more time to recover and develop before we go giving him romantic relationships, much less one with Calypso.

That’s not to say that they don’t have some things in common. Both are starved for love and affection, with Calypso being constantly rejected by heroes while Leo was rejected by foster homes and his own family. It’s a trait that they have in common, but it shouldn’t be the only thing that they have in common, especially since it is laced with a trauma that is clear they haven’t had help processing. They need to develop more as characters and as friends before they should be paired together.

So… yeah. The Caleo relationship is, in my eyes, doomed to failure, or at least heavily flawed after taking the above points into account. Uncle Rick, as if seemingly aware of these criticisms, has put the relationship in a rocky place by The Tower of Nero, giving them the possibility of overcoming the above criticisms and their own flaws, or giving fanfic writers an out and pairing Leo with another character or have him single, but happy. Either way, in my opinion Caleo is a bad ship when it comes to how it was created, alongside the flaws and unfortunate implications it has.

While I can see some of the chemistry the ship has, you can’t just use a couple of moments where they get along as evidence that they belong together, especially with the above reasons. That’s like using a band-aid to cover a bullet hole without removing the bullet, stopping the bleeding, and preventing infection. If both characters and their relationship had been given more time to develop, I would understand how they would get together. 

[clefairymuke]

oiiii i have a request for a oneshot or maybe something fun to add to your regrets fic (whatever you find better) I think it would be funny a reader x the scouts drunk and levi finding them and being all cute taking care of reader :3

thank you for this request!! sorry for how long it took, but it managed to pull me out of some writers block that’s been kicking my ass lately. thank you for suggesting it and reading!

as always, much love! <3

-----------------------------------------------------------

Red Wine | Levi x Reader

pairing: levi x reader

themes: fluff

tw: swearing, alcohol use

word count: 2511

True fun and relaxation is not something you typically experience.

Of course, when you signed up for this whole Scout Regiment thing, you weren’t expecting nights out in bars and plush queen-sized beds with wool blankets. You expected exactly what you got: exhausting days and mostly sleepless nights, demanding grief and waking nightmares. One thing you hadn’t expected, however, was how stale it would get. These thoughts are why you ended up where you are now: propped lazily against a wall surrounded by your friends, loud laughs bubbling freely from your ever-smiling mouth, and a bottle of wine in hand.

While the “why” is clear to you, the “how” is a bit more cloudy. Around the complete euphoria in your head stands a thick fog blocking your memory — that, or the fact that your drunkenly dwindling attention span can no longer support a thought lasting more than a second or two. All you know is that you’re here now, and you’re having the time of your life. Your eyes and ears skirt past Eren and Jean arguing without stopping to listen in as you pass the bottle to Mikasa.

For once, you aren’t thinking about how Levi could make this experience better. Although you love being in the company of your boyfriend, you can’t help but imagine his disdain if he were to witness your situation. You can almost feel the ferocity of his razor sharp-glare creeping up your spine as you picture it within your mind.

You lay your head back on the concrete wall that keeps you upright and close your eyes. Although you had shown to be quite social when the bottle first began to be passed, you now wanted nothing more than to take a nice nap — or to go vomit just to ease yourself of the queasy feeling that was overtaking your stomach. Either would suffice. You listen to your friends chatting mindlessly around you, their care to be inconspicuous slipping away with the wine. You watch Connie drain what was left in the bottle, leaving you to curse at the fact that you would be stuck in the uncomfortable kind of drunk that left you a bit nauseous while still conscious enough to be prone to anxiety.

You sit there in a dizzy oblivion for what could have been five minutes or fifty, tuning out the antics of the rest of the people in the room as they laugh and roughhouse. Your stomach stirs and turns, but your mind begins to clear: you notice Connie and Sasha choreographing a dance routine to music only they could hear; Mikasa and Armin sit quietly chatting behind Eren as he and Jean argue over who is more adept at fighting; Ymir and Christa are making googly eyes at each other over their giggles.

“Hey, guys?” you say, your brain lagging behind your mouth by at least a few seconds. “I’m probably about to throw up.” You quickly discover that you’re right, as your gut begins to bubble and your mouth begins to water.

“Oh, fuck,” Connie mumbles as he looks around the room desperately. Sasha looks disappointed as he stops dancing and approaches where you sit against the wall, gripping your wrists in his hands and helping you to your feet; with both of you being drunk enough to show it, stumbles are surely present. Time skips, and you’re kneeled in front of the toilet, Connie leaving to give you privacy — you’re decidedly much drunker than you thought you were.

Just as you start to vomit, you hear Eren defeatedly say, “Oh, fuck me.” That can’t be good.

The space goes silent save your groans. The most imaginative depths of your brain think that perhaps a titan is looking in the window, waiting to bring you all to your doom. How convenient for half of the newest scout recruits to be intoxicated and defenseless. When you hear Levi’s voice say, “Stupid fucking brats. Where is she?” you wish it were a titan instead.

A chorus of voices answer, “Bathroom.” What a bunch of fucking sellouts, you think to yourself. Your heartbeat begins to pound in your throat again as you hear his footsteps grow near; when he taps at the door a few times, you let it all out — out of fear or simple drunkenness you are unsure. “God damn it,” you hear him mumble before the door handle turns and his hands find your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail.

He rubs your back in a manner you can only describe as passive-aggressive. You can tell he wants to scold you — and you’re definitely in for it once you get to feeling better — but you can also tell that he wants to care for you. That’s why you try to pretend not to hear his curses as he lectures you on responsibility.

“Why the hell are you drinking with these idiots? I wouldn’t be mad if it was a glass or two, but there are three empty bottles on the floor in there. Three. No wonder you’re puking your fucking guts up,” he mutters, voice low enough for only you to hear despite his angry tone.

You feel your eyes watering as your stomach settles for another brief moment. “Levi,” you say, your breathing labored, “now is not the time.” You hear him scoff before you begin to dry heave, his hand moving a bit more caring across your back as he holds onto your hair. Your gut starts to feel a bit better as your brain realizes there’s nothing left. He places his hands under your arms and lifts you gently to your feet before flushing the toilet. You stumble awkwardly to his lead as he escorts you to the sink.

He reaches around you to turn on the water, which is cold to the touch as he holds your hand beneath it. “Clean your mouth out,” he says, nudging his hand around yours until you form a cup. “It’s disgusting.” You oblige him, lifting it to your lips. You feel it drip down your chin as you swish it around between your teeth, looking up in the mirror to see your blushing cheeks and droopy eyes. Levi stands behind you, dressed in no more than a grey t-shirt and some comfortable-looking pants. His hair is neat and combed, which doesn’t quite match the rest of his attire, but you aren’t complaining. He looks as ethereal as always. After you spit, he grabs your shoulder and spins you around to face him.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing the tears that had formed on your face away with his thumbs. You shake your head at him, your eyes trailing down to the ground. Here comes the scolding.

He sweeps you off your feet, to your surprise, holding you bridal-style as he carries you out of the bathroom. You lay your head against his shoulder, seeing the walls of the room and the faces of your friends go blurrily by as he strides to the door; they all look terrified.

“Laps,” you hear Levi announce to your friends, his voice icy. “At dawn. I don’t give a shit if you’re hungover.”

A chorus of groans is the soundtrack for your exit as the door slams shut. The walk back to Levi’s suite is spotty at best; you’re unsure of exactly how long it’s taking. The scenery around you feels more dreamlike than anything — you find yourself hoping that you’re still propped against the wall with your friends, sleeping soundly and dreaming of Levi catching you red-handed. When time jumps and he’s laying you down on his couch, you’re pretty sure you’re awake.

You hear rustling around as you lay there, still half waiting for a scolding. He rejoins you rather quickly, setting some things down on the side table and gently lifting your head. He sits, letting you back down slowly to lay in his lap. “I brought you bread,” he says, taking it from the table and placing it in your hands. “It’ll soak up the alcohol. There’s water over here when you need it.” You inspect the bread lazily before nibbling on it. The very idea of chewing something and swallowing it is enough to make you nauseous, but you trust his judgement.

You feel his hand fall atop your forehead and his fingers draw circles in your hair. You don’t fight the grin threatening your lips. “Are you okay, my love?” he asks, his voice soft. This is the tenderness you had fallen in love with many months ago; the one thing your friends are blind to. He carries himself with such coldness for the public — he is rude, and blunt, and insufferable, and unobtainable. With you, however, he could be kind. He could be loving. The speed with which his gentle voice melts your heart never lessens. This is Levi at his most vulnerable.

“I’m just drunk,” you tell him, your words slurring into each other. “I’m not dying.”

You hear a chuckle barely pass over his lips like a spring breeze, the sparkle in his eyes reminiscent of the way the sun reflects off the surface of a pond. The peaceful nature of your position is a worthy opponent to how your insides wage war on one another: nausea, dizziness, and the beginnings of what will become an absolutely splitting headache all contained within one disoriented body. “I would’ve gone with you, you know,” he says suddenly after a serene moment of silence. “I would’ve known when you needed to stop drinking.” He combs his fingers against your cheek, silvery eyes softening into pools of undeniable adoration.

“You would’ve been a complete buzzkill,” you reply, half joking as you close your eyes and enjoy the rare affection.

You hear a cross between a scoff and a laugh come from above you. “Keeping those brats from getting you so wasted that you start puking isn’t being a buzzkill. It’s called taking care of you.”

“I think I’m not drunk enough,” you say honestly. “We ran out of wine right at that stage where you could go to sleep or start throwing up, but there’s absolutely no chance of having a good time.”

He taps the top of your head with two fingers, prompting you to let him up. You oblige him, using the opportunity to lay down your bread and take a sip from the glass of water that rests on the side table. You watch as he saunters back toward the kitchen, wondering what he was doing somewhat, but mostly just trying to get a grip on your senses. You sit up as you wait on his return, laying your head back against the plush upholstery and taking deep breaths.

He’s back as quickly as he left, both hands behind his back in a feeble attempt to hide the wine glasses as their stems poked around to your view. You feel a smile creep onto your face as he unveils his master plan: a bottle of red wine and a glass for each of you. “Don’t expect this often,” he announces as he sets it all on the table, pulling a wine key from his pocket. He joins you on the couch, scooting in close so that your knees brush before you hear the satisfying pop of the cork and the relaxing swish of liquid on glass.

“You’re expecting me to believe that Captain Levi is offering to get drunk with me?” you giggle, almost nervous to reach for the wine in front of you. He laughs off your comment, reaching in front of him and lifting the glass to his lips; he takes only a sip before looking at you in expectation. You take yours as well, holding it up to his jokingly before you both bring them to your mouths.

After your first gulp, time begins to melt away. A movie-esque montage begins in front of your eyes: the sight of the man you love, once so stoic and so stiff, loosening and laughing the night away at your side; the feeling of typically isolated and scarce hands trailing carelessly along the length of your arms, warm against the sensitive skin of your wrists and your thighs; the smell of red wine spilled innocently on hardwood and upholstery without complaints or uprooting to clean it; the sound of his velvet and brass voice with his uncensored expressions of love, whispered and melodic; the taste of mint and jasmine tea on his unusually wandering lips.

What might be thirty minutes or three hours passes in a flash, leaving you sprawled across the couch with the drunken mess that is your typically reserved lover, legs utterly entangled so that you were unsure where you ended and he began. He’s whispering to you — that much you know — but his words are slurred, and you’re unbelievably distracted by the feeling of wet kisses being peppered along your jaw and ear. He grasps at your back, massaging and caressing and leaving no inch uncovered by his calloused hands as his touch reminds you why you breathe and laugh and plainly exist.

“Levi,” you whisper, your mind a tangled ball of twine save for the feeling of his breath on your cheek.

He hums in response, not bothering to look up at you. You can feel his grin against your jaw.

“We should get to bed, love.”

You’d be left to wonder how the two of you made it into the next room when morning came; rest assured there would be a trail from the couch to the bedroom door made from clumsily knocked-over knick knacks and your discarded clothes from the day to clue you in. If you were sober, you’d care enough about Levi’s wrath tomorrow to clean up behind the two of you; however, you aren’t sober, and you don’t care enough.

The two of you fall into the bed you share, intertwining your limbs like the threads of a tapestry, laying out plainly and beautifully the comfort you find in him. Your head finds his chest and his hands find your lower back, pulling you flush against him as his eyelids begin their threats to close before he is quite ready. He murmurs out your name, his hold on you growing more snug when it passes his lips. “I love you, s—” he falters, nuzzling his face in the top of your head. “So much.”

It’s short — and a pretty common thing for someone to say to the person they love — but it means everything coming from him. “I love you, Levi,” you tell him, praying to whatever is up there that you’ll remember this in the morning.

Soon, the two of you stop stirring and whispering. As you breathe him in, you try to hear his words in your mind as many times as you can before you slip out of consciousness. You begin to drift off to sleep, peaceful and content in his arms as you’ve ever been.

[rivalsforlife]

Phoenix Wright: The Truth Reborn: Oh No We’re Doing This Again

hi.

Nearly two months ago, I wrote an essay summarizing and making very wild conclusions about the second Takarazuka Musical. I did this about two and a half years after watching the first Takarazuka musical. As such I did not have the full context for many things from the musical and was relying mostly on my memory, which blocked many things from this musical for my own safety. However, just this week, I decided to rewatch it, because I enjoy tormenting myself. I said I wouldn’t write anything on it. Here I am writing something on it.

Here’s the youtube thumbnail so that you know what you’re getting yourself into. And here, of course, is the link. This is the HD version which may be slightly more pleasant to watch. Maybe.

It was not quite as cringe in a funny way as the second musical to me, and therefore this essay may be less funny, but I feel like I’m doing a disservice to people by providing a summary of the second musical while completely neglecting the first. Quite possibly doing this is even more of a disservice. I just eagerly await the day that the third musical is translated because *that* will be the day that I finally shuffle off this mortal coil. Either way, I want to write this stuff down so that I never have to watch the musical again out of curiosity.

The following essay will contain major spoilers for both the first and second Phoenix Wright Takarazuka musicals, as I will be using many points from this musical to argue my thesis of the second musical. ... like you were going to watch them anyways. 

This one broke 8k. I’m dead inside.

Introducing The Director

Again another disclaimer that I don’t have anything against the actresses or the theatre troupe. I DO have something against Suzuki Kei, who I recently learned is the writer and director of all three of the Ace Attorney Takarazuka musicals, and is quite possibly my mortal nemesis.

This man is the one who brought this monstrosity into the world.

This man, allegedly, cleared the first four ace attorney games *seven times* before sitting down to write these musicals. He played these goddamn games seven times and did not take in a single word. The man clicked through them mindlessly while watching a badly written legal romance drama in the background and got them completely confused. I genuinely have no idea how this man could have played these games more times than even me and yet managed to get so many characters (MAYA!!!!) completely and utterly wrong. This haunts me every day, truly.

This man played Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Justice for All, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trials and Tribulations, and Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney seven times. SEVEN TIMES EACH!! and was told to create a musical based on the series. He played these games seven times each and you know what he said?? You know what he said?? “This sucks, I’m getting rid of all of Phoenix’s backstory, butchering half the characters, and writing Phoenix/Lana fanfiction, but also rewriting all of Lana’s backstory so that she was Phoenix’s childhood friend, and you know what, I’m changing her name for good measure.”

I think this man played the games seven times each and then hated it so much and was so sick of it he tried to write something that destroyed as much of the series as possible while still being vaguely recognizable. And then somehow it became a massive hit because people like me see this and go “what the actual hell” and watch it, or people who haven’t played the games see this and go “wow what a great musical!” and then he wrote TWO MORE, destroying EVEN MORE every time in his wake, until finally, finally, he stopped after making Edgeworth straight and time traveling into the past to face off against a corrupt Gregory. I guess that was the last straw.

I have to issue a disclaimer here that for legal reasons this is a joke. I don’t actually hate this man and would not punch him in the face if I met him because that would be rude, and he is entitled to his wrong interpretation of the games. I don’t know what his thought process was. But allegedly he did play the games seven times according to the wiki. This whole essay here is satire and not slander and I don’t want to offend this guy if he somehow stumbles across my nonsense tumblr post. At the same time: Suzuki Kei blink twice if you need help.

Anyways half the reason that I’m making this essay is because I want to share my fake ao3 page for this musical. The other half will become apparent later.

Sorry if that’s illegible because of tumblr quality it’s not really important. All you really need to know is that it’s a fake ao3 screenshot for the musical. Also in the author’s note I said he played the games four times but it was actually seven I just remembered wrong because I didn’t want to believe it.

at this point you may be like “Grace shut up and get to the actual musical” and okay, fine, let’s start this nonsense. Also note that I may be referencing things from my essay on the second musical very frequently; I’m not going to force you to go read that though because the fact that you’re reading this is enough of a torment already.

The Musical Begins

Unlike the second musical, this one opens with some narration from Phoenix.

Transcript:

Phoenix: I’m reviewing a particular case at the moment. To me, this case... is one I’ll never forget.

Immediately I think this is important because it establishes that this whole musical takes place in a flashback that Phoenix is reflecting on. Why is this important? Because we know, by the time of the second musical which takes place three years later, Leona is dead.

Knowing that Leona is inherently doomed to die of her Sad Woman Disease paints this whole musical in a different light. It’s not Phoenix reflecting on how he got back together with his lover; it’s Phoenix dwelling on their past together, and the opportunities they had, before her life was so cruelly and inexplicably taken away. We don’t know if Phoenix’s reminiscing takes place before or after Leona’s death... but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was after.

Phoenix, still in the present, starts to sing. “A wave appears on the horizon like a mirage, it trembles, then vanishes. Your voice, carried upon the waves, fades upon the shore, erasing the splendor of the past.”

This line actually shows up in the second musical, sung by Lucia about her imprisoned fiance quite possibly. It’s kind of hard to tell what the meaning of these songs even are. They’re too abstract for me I think. But this line appears very frequently in the first musical when Phoenix is thinking about Leona.

Then we enter the flashback time.

Phoenix inexplicably yells at a newspaper saleswoman. This is not relevant to anything whatsoever. Then Larry barges in to the office, looking for Maya. Phoenix describes him as “A real trouble maker, but you just can’t hate the guy”, the latter part of which I think many people would disagree with. 

Well, afterwards, Maya comes in. Phoenix describes her like this while making exaggerated “can you believe this shit” gestures.

Transcript:

Phoenix: She’s as ditzy as they come. Oh, and about the outfit... Apparently she comes from a family of spirit mediums. Try not to make fun of her, okay?

Suzuki Kei personally has it out for Maya and I can never forgive him for it. Maya in these musicals is here for pure comedic relief but it’s not even comedic because I just get so angry. How can you play the trilogy seven times and think this about her?? The girl who figured out DL-6?? The girl who told Phoenix to sacrifice her life in order to find the truth?? The girl who put on a brave smile in order to try and cheer up her younger cousin even after she saw her own mother murdered right in front of her eyes?? That Maya Fey?? Ditzy as they come??????

Ugh. Moving on.

Maya and Larry run off, leaving Phoenix to watch the American Broadcast.

Important things to note here are the Godot mug, the little line up of what I think are the messed up little ace attorney figurines beneath the screen, and the fact that while this broadcast is supposedly from and to America the screen is actually not at all showing America. Like literally almost everywhere in the world except North and South America.

The broadcast says that Leona Clyde, age 24, was arrested for murdering the senator Robert Cole! Leona Clyde -- that’s Phoenix’s ex-girlfriend! He runs off to the detention center.

She is not happy to see him.

Leona: Mr. Wright... I’m not the woman you once knew.

Let’s Play A Matching Game

Sorry for the abundance of screenshots that are going to be throughout this section. Phoenix convinces Leona to let him defend her. Some of the conversation seems... familiar.

Leona: No one would defend someone who admits to killing a senator. I’m waiting for a court-appointed attorney.

Edgeworth: Every defense attorney I’ve talked to has turned me down.

Phoenix: In that case, let me defend you.

Game Phoenix: Let me defend you.

Leona: Don’t be ridiculous!

Edgeworth: Don’t be ridiculous.

Phoenix: I’ll never accept that you’re a murderer. Let me prove your innocence!

Game Phoenix: Huh? Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to prove that Miles Edgeworth is innocent.

Leona: I’ve already confessed my guilt.

Gumshoe: He confessed that he did it! In court!

Leona: It’s foolish to think you can win this case.

Edgeworth: My case is near hopeless, Wright.

Leona: (in response to phoenix offering to defend her) No you won’t! Don’t ever come here again.

Edgeworth: Look, just go away, and leave me alone!

Phoenix: You of all people should know. Once I decide to do something, I see it through to the end.

Edgeworth: Once you start on something, you always see it through, don’t you?

Leona: I never thought that you’d be representing me.

Phoenix: Ah, who could have guessed this day would come?

Edgeworth: Not me.

Phoenix: You believed in me. You saved me. And this time, I swear... I swear I’ll save you!

Game Phoenix: Edgeworth believed in me, and I believe in him. I’m the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I’m the only one who can help him.

I could’ve done a few more, but tumblr is already threatening to murder my laptop.

So long story short, Phoenix manages to convince his lover to let him be the defense on the case. Then immediately after swearing to save Leona, he starts singing a song, which I’m not screencapping because this is enough:

“As long as there are people in this world, there’s only one path I will follow! As long as there is love in this world, there’s only one path I will believe in!”

Edgeworth sings this in the second musical after saying that he returned to California because of Phoenix. Phoenix sings it now after swearing to defend Leona. You draw your own conclusions.

And then we finally get the opening credits. Eleven minutes in.

Just Pretend This Is Narumitsu Fanfiction

Following the credits, we see a beautiful beach. Couples (exclusively heterosexual, of course,) dance and embrace in the background for some time, before revealing Phoenix and Leona, in the Even Further Past, before the LSATs or whatever the ace attorney universe’s excuse for law school exams are.

Phoenix establishes his absolute hatred of change, an important characterization moment.

Phoenix: The view here never changes, huh?

Phoenix reminisces on when they were kids. Leona’s parents were both lawyers (they’re both lawyers) and sometimes they would be like lawyers with her when she was a kid. This inspired her to also become a lawyer after their tragic death of Sickness. They never specify what the sickness is that caused two people who must be relatively young to die while Leona was in her early twenties at the latest. It may be whatever sickness claimed Leona’s life later. Sad Woman Disease. (Sad Man Disease for her father, I guess?)

Phoenix also talks about why he’s becoming a lawyer.

Phoenix: Watching you chase your dream inspired me to become a lawyer too.

So, it’s not “my childhood friend looked sad in a newspaper” because I guess that makes no sense or is too gay or something. But this is another important piece of Phoenix characterization. His entire life so far has been focused around Leona. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and then Phoenix decided to become a lawyer solely because Leona was becoming a lawyer. Not even to try and get back into contact with her after she moved away or anything; just because he’s so obsessed with her that he wants to have the same career as her, then they can run a Mom & Pop Law Firm or something, years in the future, after years of happy marriage and a few children or like whatever the hell.

Well, there’s a few steps they’ll need to get to that. At this point Phoenix still hasn’t confessed his feelings for Leona. He does so here, on this beach.

Leona tries to protest.

Leona: But I’m pushy, selfish, and only care about my goals... You’d get fed up with me.

Phoenix: That’s what I’ve always admired about you. That’s who I’ve been chasing all these years. That’s the only person... I love.

Sooo, Phoenix, your type is pushy selfish people who only care about their goals...? In the first, older lower-quality video translation it was “only care about my work”, too. Hm. Things to think about.

They sing a little duet together. Then we go back to present-day of what’s technically still a flashback. Whatever. Murder is happening.

Back To The Murder

So some plot things to establish: Leona is the legal counsel of Governor Miller, who is running for president in the AMERICAN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. After the flashback so that Phoenix has some time to change clothes, they show an interview of him talking about the murder.

Governor Miller: I vow to forge a peaceful country with my own two hands, and to prepare myself for whatever may lie ahead.

Reporters: Through thick and thin, he’s a friend of the people!

The Takarazuka musicals are not very good at hiding their killers.

Phoenix: Oh yeah... It’s almost time for the presidential election, isn’t it?

NEVER FORGET, WRIGHT. THIS IS AMERICA. LAND OF THE FREE! god what even was that line.

Anyways, we meet Gumshoe, who is incompetent once again. Maya runs around the crime scene, picks up the murder weapon, puts her fingerprints all over everything, moves things around, all while Phoenix is like “lol get a load of the world’s stupidest girl” or whatever. But who cares about that.

It’s time to get to the only valid part of this musical.

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Villain Solo

You may have seen this one before.

Edgeworth arrives, but not really. It’s like Phoenix heard Edgeworth was prosecuting and immediately entered a dream-like state, where Edgeworth is heralded by the sound of trumpets in Great Revival. He’s played by a different actress than in the other two musicals, since I think she retired in between the six or so months from this musical to the second. She still plays the role well, though, or as well as can be when you’re written in an ace attorney Takarazuka musical.

Shrouded in scarlet solitude... it’s Edgeworth.

Yes, those are six Edgeworths. Yes, they pick Phoenix up and carry him around and dance with him. Yes, it was probably not meant to be at all homoerotic.

He sings a song that’s called “My rule”. I only figured this out later, but it’s loosely based on a “catchphrase” of his in the Japanese version - in game 1 he says something along the lines of “All I can do is get every defendant declared guilty! So I make that my policy.” In DD in his dramatic anime introduction before the trial, he says “I intend to question the defendant with all I have. For that is a part of my creed.” “So I make that my policy” and “For that is a part of my creed”, to my understanding, are both translated from the same line, which I think is like, “sore ga watashi no ruru”, “That is my rule.” (If I’m wrong, please correct me.) In this song he sings about how he’ll reduce all criminals to ash and such, basically talks about his game 1 prosecuting strategy as “my rule”. 

It’s very fun and probably if you want to only watch one number of this musical, it can be this one. It starts about 26:10 in the video I linked.

Once the musical number is done, Phoenix and Edgeworth stare at each other, and the background fades into the courtroom, so court begins. I feel like I should note that Phoenix has not picked up any evidence or talked to any witnesses in this investigation except for Gumshoe, since Maya just moved some things around and then Phoenix had some weird fever dream about Edgeworth which presumably took up the rest of the day.

The Trial, Day 1

Edgeworth: Consider it a prelude to the poignant Greek tragedy that’s about to unfold.

Maya: The real tragedy’s your pompous attitude!

Those are the only screenshots I took of this trial day. Here’s a summary, though:

The trial starts off with Leona confessing, Phoenix says “no I think she’s innocent”, and since ace attorney doesn’t care about the defendant’s wishes he’s allowed to proceed. For some reason Leona lets him do this without complaint. 

Gumshoe is the first witness, he claims to have caught Leona red-handed at the scene of the crime, standing over the corpse. Phoenix tries to claim that since Gumshoe didn’t see Leona committing the crime, he didn’t actually catch her red-handed, to which Edgeworth responds “What do you think being caught red-handed means?” 

Once Gumshoe is dismissed, Lotta takes the stand. She has a photo of the actual moment of the crime, where Leona is holding a knife in the air in front of the victim. 

The Takarazuka musicals like to do this thing where the image is blurry and zoomed out, but then Phoenix will go “I’VE NOTICED A CONTRADICTION” and it zooms in really far as the resolution increases drastically in order to show you the contradiction that is impossible to spot for yourself, because they don’t want people figuring out the mystery in this musical based off of a video game where you have to solve the mystery yourself. Anyways Phoenix zooms in on this photo and sees that there’s blood on Leona’s hand, presumably before she stabbed the victim. How did it get there?

Edgeworth suggests the victim was stabbed multiple times. Phoenix says the autopsy report contradicts that. Edgeworth, uncharacteristically, does not update it to suit his argument. 

Phoenix concludes that this photo is not showing the moment Leona stabbed the victim, but the moment Leona removed the knife! ... Which somehow casts doubt on her having been the one to stab the victim. Because as everyone knows, anyone wanting to kill someone would never remove a knife, it’s not like they’d bleed out faster that way, or anything.

And this whole contradiction is confusing because presumably if the victim was stabbed and then the knife was removed, they’d know that happened, because then the knife would not be found stuck in the victim’s body, since the victim was only stabbed once. So this shouldn’t be news to the prosecution that someone removed the knife after stabbing. But the investigation was headed by the most incompetent version of Gumshoe ever, so. sure. I guess no one knew.

That at least manages to extend the trial another day.

This Totally Has To Be Illegal

After the trial, Phoenix goes to talk to Governor Miller, aka Mr. Totally The Real Killer. Phoenix asks him why he decided to hire Leona as his legal advisor.

Basically, it’s because her parents were both renowned lawyers. Her father was a Chief Prosecutor, and her mother was a defense attorney. ... a prosecutor and a defense attorney couple... who does that remind us of...

Phoenix points out that just because her parents were good lawyers, it doesn’t mean she’d necessarily be one. Miller says that, sure, but she is actually really talented, and her law school marks were spectacular. Phoenix says “WHY WERE YOU LOOKING AT HER LAW SCHOOL MARKS”, like it’s somehow? suspicious? for a government official hiring legal counsel to look at their law school marks?

Apparently it IS suspicious because Governor Miller freaks out and asks if this is an interrogation. Before Phoenix can press much further, he gets a phone call, and leaves Phoenix alone in a big room.

So naturally Phoenix behaves like a fully grown adult running a law firm.

If all he did was sit in the chair, lift up a desk lamp, and poke his finger on a pen, that’s one thing. But then he leans over, OPENS THE GOVERNOR’S DESK DRAWER, and finds a knife that’s just sitting there casually. It looks like a butter knife. It’s not anything major. Maybe the dude just wanted to butter his toast?

I mean I know Phoenix will dig around in stuff whenever in the games, but he has no reason to suspect Governor Miller at all, much less dig through his drawer probably full of confidential government documents to lift up a knife that he thinks is suspicious. It’s not even covered in blood or anything?

Naturally Governor Miller’s assistant comes in just then, and Phoenix puts the knife. in his breast pocket. 

bud. It may look like a butter knife, but putting knives up against your chest is not a great idea. Much less stealing a knife from a governor? 

Well, in his panic, he accidentally knocks over a bunch of books on the desk. The governor’s assistant helps him pick them up, and they find a photo. Look a little familiar?

The photo has the assistant, the victim Robert Cole, Governor Miller, and the victim’s brother who died in an incident two years ago. He’s the “Neil Marshall” of this musical, and he died in what was essentially the SL-9 incident. Same general premise, except it occurred in the courthouse, and the names are different.

AND FINALLY WE REACH THE END OF ACT 1. They do a musical number here which is a weird sort of mashup of the main opening credits song, Edgeworth’s Villain Solo, and the love duet between Phoenix and Leona. They are all such different songs that it sounds a little weird.

ACT 2, FINALLY

The act begins on a sour note with Maya playing with the knife and showing off her characterization, which is one of the most infuriating Maya characterizations you’ll sometimes see around the fandom by people who don’t like Maya.

Maya: Let me whip up my special spirit channeler hamburgers!

sigh.

But then we’re saved (?) by the arrival of EDGEWORTH, who is presumably just here to chat. He asks Phoenix if he’s defending Leona in hopes of winning her back, then says to keep out of it, since it’s a very important case and he can’t understand the gravity of it.

Then Phoenix says this.

Phoenix: Would you be saying that if you were the one on trial? The defendant is in a dark prison, reaching out for hope... Can you imagine the loneliness and sorrow of being ostracized?

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT, EDGEWORTH? CAN YOU IMAGINE IF YOU WERE ON TRIAL AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD DEFEND YOU AND BELIEVED IN YOUR INNOCENCE??

Edgeworth responds to this by essentially rehashing his speech in Turnabout Sisters about how he needs to find all defendants guilty because he can’t guarantee their innocence and all that. Maya gets upset and leaves so that Phoenix and Edgeworth can talk about their childhood in private.

Phoenix once again complains about how people change since nine years old.

Phoenix then says that he has something Edgeworth doesn’t: the POWER TO BELIEVE! Then Maya comes in and tries to spike Edgeworth’s coffee, so he leaves.

The Class Trial

Phoenix explains a bit about Edgeworth and his backstory to Maya. Namely, the class trial. Phoenix was accused of stealing lunch money, Edgeworth stood up for him, but instead of Larry, Leona stood up for him. I guess Suzuki Kei thought “oh the class trial, if Leona stood up for him, it would be so romantic, because she’s a woman, and he’s a man”, or something like that. 

Edgeworth wanted to become a Great Lawyer Like His Father! But then he turned cold as ice.

Phoenix: His father got too deeply involved in a case... and paid for it with his life. Edgeworth saw him murdered. He was never the same again. I bet he couldn’t forgive the criminal.

Yeah I bet he couldn’t ever forgive the person he thought killed his father all these years, Phoenix. I bet he really hates that person, Phoenix. I bet he has nightmares about that person killing his father or something, Phoenix.

Phoenix: He vanished, then returned without his mercy or compassion. He had become a monster. When he lost his father, he also lost the ability to believe in others.

So like... one of the most chilling things about this musical is that they never actually solve DL-6. This probably roughly takes place 15 years after DL-6, since they were about the same age when the class trial started, and at least Leona is 24 now. The next musical takes place three years from now, and in it, Edgeworth refers to von Karma as his mentor, implying he’s still around and doing things.

So, in addition to everything else going wrong with this musical, DL-6 still happens, but von Karma never frames Edgeworth for it fifteen years later. The statute of limitations runs out, and von Karma forever gets away with his crime. And Edgeworth has no idea.

What changes did they make to DL-6, though, you may ask? I’m desperate to know as well. In the third musical, which I’ve watched because I hate myself but am unable to fully understand because I don’t know much Japanese, there is a scene where Miles flashbacks to DL-6. It’s abstract, but he makes gun-throwing motions at Gregory, followed by a gunshot sound.

Therefore, in this musical’s internal canon, either Miles Edgeworth shot his father, or he believes he did for the rest of his life.

... moving on.

Phoenix: But he still has his humanity. It’s still there, deep down inside!

At least, if nothing else, Phoenix still believes in him. Even this Takarazuka Musical couldn’t touch that.

The Feenie Sweater

Right after this, Larry barges in, and Phoenix leaves him alone with Maya. The musical tries teasing Larry/Maya, but fortunately, Maya’s having none of it.

Maya: You’re barking up the wrong tree.

Props to this musical for not being as bad as it could have been.

After this, the two sit down on the couch, and Maya asks for more gossip on Phoenix and Leona. Larry launches into a story, which turns into a flashback that ends up being narrated by Phoenix halfway through. This one’s about Phoenix and Leona’s relationship.

This is an interesting line in here, “I’ll guide you to the future”, for it loosely referencing the sort of love ballad Phoenix sings with Lucia in the second musical which is about “I’ll take you to that radiant future”, and he later sings to the memory of Leona right around the time of his big spiral into despair.

I’m sorry if you haven’t read my other essay and just said “wait what” to what I just typed.

Leona was getting ready to move to New York to defend the weak “in the big city”. This is rather strange wording because it implies that California does not in fact have a big city. She says some things in her conversation with Phoenix that probably plant some of his later issues.

Leona: This is the first time we’ll be apart since we were kids.

Leona: We promised we’d always be together.

Leona: I’ll be waiting. Waiting for you to come to me.

Haha. Sure would be a shame... if something were to happen... and they wouldn’t be able to be together anymore...

So some dancers wearing black come in and take off their outer jackets, to symbolize the passage of time. They circle around Phoenix and Leona. In this, you can just barely see, Phoenix is wearing a pink sweater beneath his jacket.

“Oh,” I think to myself, “Is that the Feenie sweater? Are they including it here as a reference to the games?”

Then the dancers keep moving.

THAT IS NOT THE FEENIE SWEATER. That is a pink sweater with a sexily drawn woman on it.

This is the other half of the reason why I decided to go through with making this essay. 

This is so incredibly funny to me. Suzuki Kei Who Has Played The Games Seven Times has seen the hand-knit bright pink sweater with a giant red heart on it seven times. The sweater Iris, Phoenix’s girlfriend, lovingly knit for him that he wears all the time even though it is one of the tackiest, cheesiest items of clothing to ever exist. And so, when the costume designers were designing the clothes for College Phoenix Wright, they asked themselves: “Should we include the Feenie sweater?”

and “NO,” someone must have shouted, “NO, we can NOT include the Feenie sweater, it is PINK and it has a HEART on it and it’s TOO GIRLY. Phoenix Wright is a MANLY MAN. He would not EVER wear something PINK with a HEART on it.”

“BUT,” someone else said, “it’s a REFERENCE to the original games, where he DID wear a pink sweater with a heart on it! We MUST include it to pander to the fans!”

“WAIT,” a third person interjected. “I have a BRILLIANT IDEA. We can keep the pink... But to make it VERY CLEAR he is a heterosexual, masculine male... we put a sexy woman on it.”

And Person Three Got A Raise.

Thank god we’re finally halfway done this musical.

We Just Have To Go On With Our Lives Now

There’s plot or something happening. Leona breaks up with Phoenix inexplicably over the phone. Probably because of that freaking sweater. Imagine wearing that. God.

Eventually we go back to Phoenix talking to Leona, and he asks about the Jack Lyon case, which is the rip-off version of the Joe Darke case. Leona is pretty cagey about it, but Phoenix proves that she was there in the gallery that day. Leona refuses to answer, claims again that she killed the victim in her case, and leaves.

This makes Phoenix sad, so he starts singing.

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

If this sounds familiar, it’s the part where I started absolutely losing my mind in the second musical because this line had never shown up before then, I’d forgotten it was in this musical, and Phoenix was screaming it alone in a red room, so I thought he was like desperately resorting to a necromancy ritual in hopes of bringing Leona back to life.

Instead, this line actually has CONTEXT, though it does just end up enforcing my theory. This is Phoenix mourning what he used to have with Leona, wanting to bring the “old her” back, because he’s devastated that people sometimes change. There are several flashbacks of their college days where he’s wearing his Sexy Woman Sweater. He does succeed in winning her back at the end of this musical. Before she dies, of course.

Phoenix in musical 2 still believes that he can bring back what he used to have with Leona... even beyond death. That’s something affirmed by this musical. I’m very grateful to it for somehow managing to enforce my nonsensical theory.

Doctor Ema

After this, Phoenix returns to his office, and meets with someone new.

That’s right! Only now, halfway through the musical, do we actually get to meet the Ema-equivalent to Leona’s Lana-equivalent. Her name is Monica Clyde. She has little rainbow heart stickers on her briefcase, which is the closest thing this musical has to acknowledging that gay people exist.

But what does this little briefcase contain, you may ask? Scientific investigation tools? No.

A full surgical toolset. Because you never know when someone’ll get sick, or when someone will need an entire operation in front of you. I guess.

So yes, Monica Clyde is not a forensic scientist in training, but a doctor! She decided to become a doctor because of her parents, who passed away of The Sickness, and so became a doctor in order to save lives like theirs.

Once more this has much darker and deeper implications than the musical is even aware of, because Monica is so anxious about treating sick people that she carries a full surgical toolset around with her at all times, scared to lose someone like she lost her parents... and then sometime in the next three years, Leona, her big sister, is going to die.

Of what? The strange Sickness that claimed her parents? A car accident? A botched spur-of-the-moment surgery? Whatever it is, Monica was unable to save her, even when she’d been training her entire life for it.

Monica is not mentioned at all throughout the second musical. It’s as if she does not exist.

Because unlike Ema of Rise From The Ashes, Monica is not at the heart of this story. She is, primarily, a plot device here to make Leona not trust Phoenix so that he can angst about their relationship. 

What a mess this world is.

The Trial, Part 2

Rather than try to prove Leona’s innocence, Phoenix wants to link the current case to not-SL-9, the Jack Lyon case. He does this by showing this picture.

Senator Cole, the victim, is in this picture. His younger brother whose name I’ve forgotten, the victim of not-SL-9, is also in this picture. They are brothers. It is apparently novel that they are in the same picture, and somehow makes their cases linked.

As well, Governor Miller is in the picture. I guess you could say like... Governor Miller’s legal counsel is the defendant, so that’s another link? Even though the Governor would presumably know a Senator, so this isn’t an unusual group. Right now Phoenix has absolutely nothing to prove that these two cases are linked other than “hey, these two victims are brothers”, but apparently it works. So they spend a lot of time talking about not-SL-9, since Leona has confessed to the murder on day 1 and there is absolutely nothing indicating that she can’t be immediately declared guilty.

They hid the fact that Monica was a hostage in this not-SL-9, meaning that some of the case records were forged. Here’s Edgeworth’s reaction when this comes out.

Edgeworth: This is an outrage! I’m the most influential prosecutor in America! There’s nothing I don’t know!

In RFTA, when Edgeworth learns he’d been using forged evidence to give a man the death penalty, he is devastated, his entire worldview is shaken, he sees himself as a monster who could end up becoming horribly corrupt if he isn’t stopped.

Musical Edgeworth goes “I DIDN’T KNOW SOMETHING???”

It’s certainly strange characterization, but I guess Edgeworth is further behind in his character arc than in RFTA, so... ugh. Fine. 

Phoenix calls Monica out as a witness to prove she was involved in the case. This causes Leona to panic, and try to dismiss Phoenix as her attorney, like Lana in RFTA, but Edgeworth interjects to call Monica in anyways. He and Phoenix have a little moment.

Edgeworth: You said to believe in others. I suppose I’ll try believing in you. Try to keep up.

Phoenix: Edgeworth!

So Monica comes to the stand to testify. We get to see this picture of Monica being held hostage, and not-Joe-Darke’s incredible eyeliner.

Lots of it is very similar to the actual RFTA, except instead of the victim being stabbed on the knight with the giant knife, he’s instead stabbed with a regular old knife. Leona still refuses to admit to what really happened, until Edgeworth convinces her to believe in Phoenix.

Edgeworth: Your attorney is a runaway train with a one-track mind. Yet he placed all of his faith in you. Believe in him. You owe him that much.

Leona testifies, and says that when she found the victim, he was stabbed with a scalpel.

Here is where things get weird.

Scalpels Can’t Kill People

So basically earlier in this trial, they talk about how Leona knew that the knife that stabbed the victim was double-edged despite being buried in his chest. The judge questions if this means Leona killed him, but Phoenix is quick to say no, she was searched when she entered the courthouse and couldn’t have concealed a knife.

Yet, Monica was able to bring in her surgical toolkit which contains several sharp knives, scalpels, scissors, etc.

This is the first major contradiction.

Leona continues to say that when she found Monica, and the scalpel stabbed in the victim, she also ran into Governor Miller, who if you haven’t been able to tell yet is the Gant-equivalent of this musical. He offered to help her with the cover-up, etc.

The next bit goes a lot like RFTA. Phoenix accuses Governor Miller, who barges in, says Phoenix has the decisive evidence in his pocket. This is the “butter knife” that Phoenix took from his office when he dug around in confidential documents and stole it for no particular reason. It has Monica’s fingerprints on it! ... And Phoenix’s and Maya’s too probably because they were handling it without gloves, but they don’t mention that part.

Leona cries about how she shouldn’t have trusted Phoenix because he was apparently now blaming Monica, Monica looks terrified, she and Leona have some good sister moments but it’s not as good as it could be if the story was actually about Leona and Monica like how RFTA was about Lana and Ema. But Phoenix has the decisive piece of evidence that can turn this around.

It is this:

Phoenix: Scalpels are made for medical incisions, not stabbings. So how did it stab the victim?

...

...

...

... What?

So like. Yes, scalpels are made for medical incisions. Medical incisions often involve cutting through flesh, very easily. As a result, they are sharp. Extremely sharp. As in: their purpose is literally to stab people, very specifically.

Yes, they’re easier to control, so that surgeons don’t regularly stab people how they’re not supposed to be stabbed, but it’s not like, impossible to stab someone in a killing way with a scalpel? Admittedly, I have never tried to kill someone using a scalpel. And I do not have experience using a scalpel for surgeries because I am not a surgeon. But I’m pretty sure, if you take a sharp scalpel, and you stab someone in the chest with it with a reasonable amount of force... they die.

Like, is this a particular kind of scalpel that is not very sharp? Is the problem that the blade doesn’t match up with the initial wound? But even then, we don’t have the original unforged autopsy report or even a picture, so how would Phoenix know what the original wound looked like to say it didn’t match up? And even then why wouldn’t Phoenix say that instead of SCALPELS CAN’T STAB PEOPLE???

This is his decisive contradiction and it makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE TO ME!!!

Well Darn I Guess Scalpels Can’t Kill People

This is such a decisive piece of evidence, that scalpels can’t kill people, coming from the man who thought “caught red-handed” does not involve being caught standing over a corpse with blood on your hands, that it causes Governor Miller to confess.

Unlike Gant, who created the murder with Neil Marshall both to ensure that there was decisive evidence to convict Joe Darke, a serial killer who had not left any decisive evidence behind, and gain control over the prosecutor’s office in order to pull similar stunts to get criminals convicted using false evidence, Governor Miller does not have that as his motive. After all, he’s not a police officer. Instead, he ended up accidentally killing not-Joe-Darke, and then set up the incident in order to get Leona on his side. As her parents were both influential lawyers and very respectable, having her and her parents’ reputation on his side could help him become President of America Where This Takes Place.

So, let’s just take a moment to run over some of the things that made the original Rise From The Ashes great, in my opinion. Just for fun.

1 - The heart of the story between the Skye sisters. Lana closing off to protect Ema, Ema wanting to get through to her sister and get back to the way things used to be. Phoenix, in this story, is more of a bystander to this plotline rather than in the heart of it himself.

2 - Edgeworth’s Character Development. Basically RFTA creates an interesting transition between Turnabout Goodbyes and JFA. It causes Edgeworth to re-evaluate everything he knows about being a prosecutor. So quickly on the heels of Turnabout Goodbyes, it crushes the last bit of hope in him. It compares him to Gant, who also hates criminals, and forces him to wonder if his hatred of crime will one day lead to him being a criminal himself. He’s already convicted one person on forged evidence; how many others could there be?

3 - The Ends Justify The Means. ... wait come back, don’t leave. What I found neat about this case was also Gant’s motive. At one point he was presumably an honest person who hated crime and wanted to stop criminals. But over time in the police force, he became corrupted. He wanted to have all criminals convicted. So what do you do when you don’t have the evidence to convict them? Joe Darke was a serial killer who has killed several people and may have killed more if he’d gone free. The only way to stop and convict him was by using forged evidence. Other criminals could hide evidence to get away with their crimes, so people like Gant would make it up to catch them; but then when do you stop? What happens if there’s no evidence because someone is truly innocent? When does the line between “this person is a criminal and I want to stop them” and “I just want to convict everyone I’m dealing with” become blurred? This is also something he shares with Edgeworth and helps to advance his character.

All three of these things are either lessened or outright ignored in this musical. Leona and Monica’s story takes a backseat to Phoenix and Leona’s Love Story, with Monica only showing up halfway through, and mainly as an excuse as to why Leona is withdrawn. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to blame himself for the forged evidence he used, and doesn’t have a crisis questioning his morality over it. And Governor Miller’s motive is purely power. Unlike Gant, who would have become Chief of Police whether he solved SL-9 or not, Miller needed Leona to win the presidency. And instead of asking her to help him with his campaign like a normal person, he just blackmailed her instead.

... How do you play the games seven times and miss this much?

The Case Finally Ends

god. we’re almost there.

The case ends, Leona is declared not guilty but will still face trial for covering up murders and such. Probably less of a sentence than Lana because she was not involved in ongoing police corruption? Either way she’s dead in three years, so she’s got something a bit more concerning coming up.

She’s led away. Phoenix sings a bit about Leona before being interrupted by Edgeworth... who has something important to tell him.

Edgeworth: You awakened within me those once-cherished emotions I had discarded. I see visions of a distant, nostalgic past.

So basically this is the unnecessary feelings of the musical. Something along the lines of “seeing you again and fighting for my former ideals is making me question many things about myself.”

How does Phoenix respond?

Phoenix: Edgeworth... Try talking normally for a chance.

Sure, we were all thinking it, but that’s a little cold, Phoenix.

Edgeworth tries a smooth recovery.

Edgeworth: I don’t do... idle chit-chat.

This doesn’t accomplish much. So he leaves to allow Leona to visit with Phoenix alone. He’s got to go change for something more important coming up.

Leona and Phoenix decide that they’re going to get back together once Leona is done her sentence! They make a promise that is very funny if you know she’ll be dead in three years.

Phoenix: I’ll be waiting. For you.

There are a lot of hugs here, I’m not screencapping them all. There are also several moments where their faces get very close together and like, their nose brushes the other’s cheek or something, but they never actually kiss. Is it because the actresses weren’t comfortable with it (valid), or they thought kissing would be too much for the musical (sure, whatever), or since both characters are played by women the show staff did not want two women kissing on stage (probably the real answer)? I don’t like watching kisses, but I kept bracing myself for one and then it never happened, so.

Phoenix ends the main part of the musical with one last musical number starring my personal favourite piece:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I like to think that at this point, this is present-day Phoenix, after finishing his reminiscing, still desperately wishing he could bring Leona back from death.

But alas, he cannot. And so, after one last daydream of them dancing together on the beaches of California, singing about their love, the musical ends.

Dance Time!

This starts at exactly the two hour mark, if you’re interested in watching what is, once again, one of the only fun parts of this musical.

Seriously, Edgeworth’s actress kills it here, when I first saw this I went “oh, this is why I saw so many people being gay for her on twitter.”

Edgeworth’s song is an encore of “My Rule”, so it’s lots of fun. Afterwards Phoenix gets another fun piece.

Then we get to the love ballad part, which I can probably overanalyze, I feel like I haven’t done enough ridiculous over-analyzing in this essay in comparison to the other.

Uhhh so the fog represents how Phoenix feels lost in this world without Leona. You can see it in the second screenshot separating the two of them, representing the barrier of death between the two of them. Idk it’s midnight I’m getting worn out from having to think about this musical for so long.

But his mourning over Leona’s death becomes even more apparent in the credits, where Phoenix sings that one line again:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I’m not fixing that screenshot, I think it’s oddly fitting, in a way. That’s me right now.

Then at the very end, he sings this song.

Phoenix: I’ll spend... this eternal life... soaring through... the heavens!

Technically, this refers to his name Phoenix, but let’s dig a little deeper. He spends the rest of his life soaring through the heavens... the heavens that Leona went to after her untimely death, perhaps?

Overall, the musical becomes much more interesting when you just see it as a prequel to the second musical. This musical establishes many core concepts of Phoenix’s character: his refusal to believe in the concept of things changing, for one, and also his extreme dependency on Leona who he was never separated from since they were kids and where he based his entire life around her dreams and ideals. All he can think about is her. And in the end, he promises to wait for her in California.

Yet, to paraphrase Miles Edgeworth, all that is waiting for him is her death. Their dream of opening up a Mom & Pop Law Firm will never come true.

Thanks again for bearing with me even though this wasn’t as funny!

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter five.

chapter four // chapter six

As the days merged into weeks, a routine settled in.

Aelin alternated between college, her work as TA, homework, cheer practice, her work at the bar and she didn’t have a moment to herself. She liked it that way. She knew how to manage many things at once, has been doing it for years, but she didn’t know how to handle boredom. These moments where you did nothing and you started thinking about everything in your life? Aelin didn’t know how to handle that.

For the first time in a month, Aelin had a night to herself. And instead of spending it to sleep as her body begged her to, she and Lysandra organized a party. Nothing too much, just some of their friends, music, and alcohol.

She was in the kitchen, pouring herself a drink as she talked with Chaol and Dorian. They had brought their roommate but Aelin had no idea where he was, and to be honest she didn’t really care. “I’m not joking, she knocked at our door at two in the morning.”

Aelin laughed at the situation Dorian was describing. “Well, you got to give her points for her determination.” She poured a drink to Chaol and he smiled warmly at her.

“So, how’s life here?” Dorian asked and Aelin shrugged. They had spent a lot of time together lately, they just didn’t speak much.

“Nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?” Lysandra joined them, sitting on the kitchen counter. “What about that roommate of yours, Rowan?”

“Please,” Lysandra huffed. “They’ve been giving each other the silent treatment for a month now. It’s even worse than when they yelled at each other.”

“That bad?” Dorian laughed and Aelin rolled her eyes.

“I remember a year ago, we were partying and suddenly everyone heard you scream. I turned around to see where you were and you threw your drink at his face.” Chaol laughed and she did too, remembering that night.

“You complained when we always argued and now you complain because we ignore each other. You’re so annoying.”

“It’d be okay if you were just ignoring each other. But if looks could kill, you would have killed each other long ago. I hope you realize that everyone notices.”

“What are you even doing here? Stop sleeping with my cousin.” Aelin said and Lysandra barked a laugh. She winked and wiggled her brows and Aelin had to stop thinking about them. Lysandra always had a crush on Aedion, Aelin knew that. But she wasn’t used to seeing Lysandra hanging out in this house, not to be with her but because she was with Aedion. Well, technically they weren’t together. They slept together and both of them were stupid enough not to realize the other’s feelings.

Fenrys came behind Aelin and put an arm around her shoulder. She tried to get out of his grip but he was too strong. “You four, stop isolating yourself and come play with us.”

“Depends, I’m too drunk for Twister.” It was an understatement, she barely could keep her legs from falling. She was too drunk for everything, but she liked it. With the right number of drinks, her brain stopped processing things, that’s exactly what she needed.

“Being drunk is what makes Twister worthy, Ace. But no, what about seven minutes in heaven?” He wiggled his brows and Aelin was ecstatic.

“I love seven-minute in heaven!” She almost screamed and Fenrys laughed at her enthusiasm.

“I would know,” Dorian said and she stuck her tongue at her friend, it just made them laugh harder.

“That was an awful first kiss.”

“You’re joking? We found you making out again an hour after the game.” Lysandra laughed. It had happened when they were fifteen and Aelin didn’t have a lot of memories of that night. Actually, she didn’t have a lot of memories from her teenage years.

“That’s a story I want to hear,” Fenrys said, always curious about everyone’s life.

“That’s nothing, wait until I tell you about that time she played with Rhys-”

“Stop!” Aelin screamed, throwing a spoon at her friend for him to shut up. She didn’t know what he wanted to say and that’s what worried her. She decided her brain made her forget for a reason other than alcohol, as stupid as it was.

“Rhys like Rhysand Night?” Fenrys asked, surprised.

“Yeah, Dorian and I have been friends with him and his brothers for ages now.”

Their parents all knew each other and the five of them kept meeting at parties. And while Dorian and Aelin tried to avoid the spotlight as much as they could since they turned eighteen, the three brothers left for Velaris and became either musicians or actors. Gods, she hadn’t seen them in ages now. She missed these idiots.

“You’re coming to play?” Fenrys asked and they all joined him in the living room. There weren't enough seats so Aelin just sat on Dorian’s lap. Aedion sent them a furious look but didn't comment, Aelin just rolled her eyes. Lysandra made the bottle turn and of course, it fell on Aedion. Aelin decided not to read too much on the look in her cousin’s eyes and just took another shot, ignoring them.

“Ten bucks we find them half-naked,” Lorcan said and Aelin laughed, remembering another time when she had a similar bet about her cousin. She turned her head but Lysandra wasn’t there, neither was the others. Her heart clenched at this feeling of loneliness even if she was in a room full of people.

Instead of thinking too much into it, she took another shot. When she looked in front of her, Rowan Whitethorn was watching her, a disapproving frown on his face.

------

Rowan wondered why he was still looking at her when she drowned a third shot. This time her eyes didn’t leave his as she drank and she winked, leaning more into Dorian Havillard’s embrace.

He didn’t know why he had to clench his fist to avoid shaking, why seeing her now made him so angry. He had been angry all the time since that conversation a month ago, and not at her. He was sure he would wake up the morning after by Lysandra stabbing him, but none of that.

Aelin didn’t tell anyone what happened in the bathroom, and it made him so angry at her.

It made him angry that she didn’t cry to her friend and cousin the day after, asking them to defend her, like Rowan thought she would. No, the morning after she looked nothing like the woman he found in the bathroom, she didn’t look half-dead as she did the night before. No signs of the breakdown.

It made a small part of his head wonder how many times she had been in this state and nobody ever noticed. But he liked to ignore this part of him and focus on the anger.

He was glad of it as he watched Dorian’s arm curl around her waist and her arm around his shoulders. They both laughed as he held his drink to her lips, making her drink everything. Rowan finished his first drink, clearly not as drunk as the two in front of him were.

He had no idea what they were for each other, they acted like friends. Close friends, yes, but still friends. But Rowan had heard too much these past four weeks. Heard how there wasn’t any actual work every time he came here to study.

He hated her for it, hated her for being selfish and not caring about the noise. He also hated himself for noticing Dorian came here to study every time Rowan could see Aelin’s eyes lined with silver, see how her smile was a little too forced, or how her hands shook. Things that didn’t seem to be noticed by anyone else.

He hated himself for noticing, even though he tried not to, that there was no pleasure on her part. But he was probably reading too much into it, why would she keep doing it, then?

When he finally looked away from her, he found Lorcan looking at him, a weird look in his eyes. Rowan arched a brow in a silent question but his friend just looked away and joined a conversation with Fenrys.

When Aedion and Lysandra got out of the closet after Vaughan knocked on the door, Rowan fought a grin on his face at the look on Aedion’s face. He silently waved his pants so that he noticed that his zipper was open. The smile on Aedion's face did not falter as he fixed it, Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Your turn, Ace,” Lysandra said as she sat down next to her friend. Rowan found his new drink more interesting than the blonde girl turning a bottle.

“Fuck,” Dorian said.

“You’re kidding me,” it was Lorcan’s turn to speak.

Rowan looked up when Fenrys burst out laughing and his heart stopped. That fucking bottle pointed toward him. What had he done to the Gods for them to hate him so much? “do it again” He groaned. Why did he even agree to play this stupid game? He thought the worst that could happen would be being stuck with Fenrys, totally forgetting about her.

“Scared to spend time with me, Whitethorn?” Aelin arched a brow, a small smirk on her face. Rowan suddenly hated that part of him that was too proud to back down from a challenge.

“Get in that damn closet already,” He said, standing up and walking toward it, not caring if she followed or not.

When she closed the door after her, Rowan started counting in his head. Surely, seven minutes wasn't that long.

The closer was way too small for Rowan’s taste, he could feel her body brushing his in many places. “I didn’t know being so close to me disgusted you, Whitethorn.” She said after thirty-six seconds.

“So you speak, now?”

“What? You missed me?” She asked, voice full of fake sweetness. The dim light let him see her eyes fixed on him, he fought a shudder at the intensity of her gaze.

He huffed a laugh. “You wish, princess. This past month has been better than the last two years.”

“I know, living right next to me is such a delight.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge of groaning at her for the way she twisted his words. She laughed softly, her breath tickling the skin of his throat. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” It was better to attack her with his words than to focus on his body’s reaction to her proximity.

She made a low noise as if she was thinking very hard about her answer. “I am not, just realistic. Have you seen me? I’m amazing.”

“I don’t even think you believe that yourself,” he stated and it was true. You just had to try to see more than the facade she kept in front of everyone to see it. Rowan was surprised no one had made comments on it. He wondered if everyone noticed and decided to not say anything, as Rowan did, or if they really were that blind.

“You know nothing about me.”

“You are not hard to figure out, princess.” Lie, Rowan was a liar. It was so damn hard to find a reason for everything she did, to explain why she hid everything about her real emotions.

“Is that why you hate me so much? Because I am so easy to read?”

“You’re not important enough for me to hate you,” He said, voice low as he looked at her eyes. They were objectively beautiful, everyone would agree on that. The ring of gold around her pupil always seemed to catch fire whenever she was angry, it was his favorite part about her eyes.

What the hell happened to him? He didn’t have any favorite part of her.

She laughed softly, shifting to be more comfortable but it just brought her closer to him. He couldn’t keep his groan to himself this time, apparently for Aelin’s delight.

“You know what I think?” She asked, raising herself on her tiptoes. “You can’t stop thinking about me.” She was almost as tall as him this way, she put her hands on his shoulders to stay stable, and even if he should have brushed her hands away, he didn’t. “I think you want me, and it’s not me you hate, but yourself for wanting me.” Her thumb brushed his neck and held in the noise that threatened to come out at that touch. “I think that maybe it even makes you feel a little bit dirty to want me, and you both love and hate it.”

He pushed her to the wall, putting both of his hands on the wall on both sides of her head, blocking her from any movement. He lowered himself slightly, his lips close to her ear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something whispered that she was right, but he ignored it. Focusing on his anger, that’s how he had always kept people at bay these past ten years. “Tell me Aelin,” he started using one of his hands to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, brushing with the tip of his fingers the sensitive spot of her skin right behind it. “Why would I want a coward?” Her whole body tensed at this and he was happy with himself.

“Shut up.”

He laughed softly, still murmuring in her ear. “Don’t like that word? Because that’s what you are, Aelin. A coward. You always run away the second it becomes hard.” He had seen Aedion take his car and go pick her up from wherever she called for help too many times. He remembered Aedion having to drive out of the damn city because she had left, and it didn’t happen only once either.

Before he could say what was in his mind she pushed him off her, with more strength than he knew she had. “Fuck you.”

“You’re just proving me right.”

“I have nothing to prove to a bastard like you.” She spat and left, slamming the door behind her. Rowan took a minute to sigh, thinking about what he said. That was true, she always ran away, but he wasn’t better. And he noticed how she struggled, he might as well have kicked a man already down.

------------

Aelin smiled at Dorian as she came back, hiding the fire inside of her. Everyone arched a brow, she knew it had been less than seven minutes but she would have killed him if she had stayed one more minute with that bastard.

“Will we find his dead body in the closet?” Lorcan asked, and surprisingly enough that sounded like… a joke. She might have answered in the same tone as him, might have joked with him, had Rowan not ruined her mood for the night.

“Want to be next?” She arched a brow and didn’t wait for an answer, taking Dorian’s hand and making him stand up. She didn’t comment to anyone as she dragged him up the stairs and pushed his back on the wall, not wanting to kiss him.

She needed to feel something other than that consuming rage, and needed the distraction. Dorian didn’t wait before kissing her back hungrily. His hands found her ass and pressed her closer to him. He didn’t need to bother with soft, loving, touch. It wasn’t a part of their agreement, it was just sex. Nothing else.

They had slept together twice in their teenage years even if she didn’t remember it, too high and drunk to remember anything, but they had started again three months ago. He had gotten mad at her for sleeping with however she could, telling her it was unsafe. But even if she never told him why she did it, Aelin was sure he understood. So he had told her to sleep with him instead.

It was his own way to help her, knowing he couldn’t do much else. If Aelin thought about it long enough she would cry of shame and fondness for her friend, but she didn’t think about it. It was the whole point of it, not thinking.

“Shit, sorry,” a voice interrupted them and Aelin looked surprised at Dorian and Chaol’s roommate. “I was looking for the bathroom but I couldn’t find it.”

“Downstairs,” Aelin said, breathless. “There’s only my room and my roommate’s room here.” She said but the mention of him just relieved the flame in her. The flame that begged to burn everything she tried to keep safe inside her. He nodded and smiled, walking past them.

“I’m not going home tonight, Chaol will drive you back. Is it okay with you, Cairn?” Dorian asked and when Cairn nodded and left, Dorian kissed her again.

As he took off her clothes, she focused on the feeling of him, Dorian, her friend, on her.

When his fingers found her core and started getting her ready for him, she fought against the voices in her head. You are a coward.

And as Dorian took a condom and entered her, she closed her eyes. He thrust into her hard, the way she liked it. He kissed her neck, breast, and lips. Trust me, Aelin, you will like it. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to hear him. She moaned Dorian’s name as he gave her a particularly hard thrust. Let me show you what a real man can do. She shut everything out, moaning too loudly to hear anything else.

As she and Dorian climaxed, they were both breathless. He disposed of the condom and fell on the bed next to her, not hugging her but staying close to her. After a while, Dorian’s breathing calmed and she knew he fell asleep.

Aelin stood up and took a long, hot, shower. Washing away the touch of anyone on her skin. And as she often did, she wondered how long she would keep living that way. She had given up the hope of recovery a long time ago. but she still hoped that one day the pain would ease.

------------------------------------

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[fruitcoops]

ok so firstly I love any loops and jules fic but secondly could we have one where jules is having a really tough time (either missing loops/ picked on etc. ) and then we see loops (not coops) surprise him and is just so protective - just sibling fluff that’s it

Oh Jules, I’m sorry I did this to you. What a wonderful prompt, though! I’m always down to write sibling fluff! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for bullying (older kids picking on younger kids)

Contrary to popular belief, Jules didn’t brag about his brother every minute of every day. There was no point, and he wanted to be known for his own talents rather than living in Remus’ shadow for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, some people didn’t seem to understand that.

A balled of lined paper smacked into the back of his head. “Heads up, Loopy!”

Jules threw the ball back; it bounced off the end of the table and hit the ground pathetically. “Nice shot,” Aidan snorted as he passed, bumping his shoulder against Jules’ and making him stumble. Several people laughed. His face burned with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I bet your brother’s really proud of that,” Luke sneered. He was a big kid, far bigger than Jules both in height and muscle even though he was only a couple years older.

“Don’t talk about my brother,” Jules said, much quieter than intended.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “What’re you going do about it, Loopy?”

“Just shut up.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He leaned across the cafeteria table and Jules fought the urge to back away. “Huh? Your brother? He’s never around.”

“He’s busy.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

“He does,” Jules insisted, feeling his throat tighten. “He does, he just doesn’t have time—”

“He’s a celebrity, dude, no wonder he doesn’t want his tagalong brother around.”

It’s not true, Jules told himself. It’s not true. Time and time again, Remus had told him that hockey came second to family, but after months of not seeing him it was starting to feel false. “Shut up.”

Luke shifted in his seat and folded his hands. “Face it, Loopy: your brother’s not around because he’d rather spend time with his cool friends than an annoying little kid.”

“Leave me alone.” Jules’ voice cracked and Luke grinned.

“You’re gonna cry?” he asked, full of false sympathy. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It’s not true.” It was getting harder to believe the words. “He visits whenever he can.”

The lunch bell rang before Luke could retaliate; he ruffled Jules’ hair too hard to be comfortable and left, already laughing with his group of friends. What a dick, Jules thought as he swallowed down the tears.

He made it through the rest of his classes in a daze and walked home on muscle memory. It was a cold day for April, but maybe he could blame his red-rimmed eyes on the wind. Maybe Luke is right, part of him argued. There wasn’t a lot of evidence, but it was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” his mother called when he opened the door.

That was the tipping point, the tiny pebble that shattered the cracked glass dam holding back his tears. Jules sobbed once, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran for the safety of his bedroom. “Jules—” The slam of his door cut his father’s concern short.

He grabbed the family picture off his wall and threw it across the room—there was no glass or frame, only tape, so seeing it flutter to the ground was far less satisfying than he had hoped. Remus had him on his shoulders for the picture; they all looked so happy. Jules sat down on the other side of his bed and buried his face in his arms, letting the emotions he had been holding in for three full hours flood out.

Deep down, he knew Luke was a liar and a bully with nothing better to do than pick on younger kids. That didn’t mean his words hurt any less.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”

There was a brief pause, then another knock.

“Just—just please give me a minute, mom!”

“I’m not mom.” Jules’ heart skipped a beat. “Can I come in?”

You’ve never been around to help me before. Anger reared up in his chest. “No!”

Remus hesitated for a moment. Jules hoped he was shocked, stunned, hurt. “Okay.”

There was a rustling noise; he looked around the foot of the bed to see a shadow in the crack beneath the door. “Are you—what are you doing?”

“Sitting down.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Mom, make him go away!”

“What did I do, Jules?” Remus sounded sad. There was none of his usual teasing in his tone. The anger twisted around in Jules and he scrubbed at the tears and snot on his face.

“When did you get here?” He knew he was being rude; his mother would have given him a pursed-lips look if he talked like that to anyone normally.

“A couple hours ago. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s a terrible surprise. Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

Jules took a few shallow breaths before answering. “You’re never here. Never.”

“I know. I’m s—”

“I hate you,” he sobbed, bringing his knees tighter to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

There was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the door, but the shadow remained. “That’s fair,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not!” Jules clambered to his feet and stomped over to the door, wrenching it open. “It’s not fair! I shouldn’t hate you, this is your job! You should—you should—”

Remus looked up at him from his crosslegged seat on the carpet. “I should what?”

“You should yell at me. Or make me open the door, or do anything that makes me angry at you.” He sniffled and hugged himself.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“The rat. And the water balloons. And when I stole your sticks. And when I froze your underwear.”

Remus winced slightly. “Fair point. I don’t keep yelling once you’re in the room, though, right?”

Jules deflated. “No.”

“So I’m not going to yell at you. Also, your bedroom smells weird, so I don’t want to go in there unless I have to.”

A smile tried forcing its way out and Jules covered it with his best scowl. “My room doesn’t smell weird.”

Remus sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Why are you here?”

“Mom said she was getting ice cream.”

Jules perked up. “Did she?”

“No.” Remus held up the car keys. “We can fix that problem, though. Go get your shoes.”

“Can I drive?’

“If you can convince dad, sure.” Remus stood up and mussed his hair; his hand was gentle, though, unlike Luke’s. It was a welcome change.

He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and hopped down the hall as he pulled them on. “Dad, can I drive?”

His father didn’t even look up from the paper. “When Hell freezes over, buddy.”

“Lyall,” his mother scolded from the kitchen, though her eyes crinkled at the edges. “Remus, remember not to swear around your brother!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he said, holding the door open for Jules as he shrugged his coat on.

They drove in relative silence, save for the Top Rock Hits of the Eighties cassette that they had each heard half a billion times. Remus pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru and rattled off Jules’ favorite without even having to ask. Somehow, that both soothed him and upset him even more. He handed the cone over carefully, stuck his blizzard in the cupholder, and started driving in the opposite direction of the house.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Jules asked, licking a stray drip of vanilla off the cone.

“I don’t think I can, seeing as we’re related.”

“You can. You don’t have custody.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you, Mr. Fancy Degree?”

“This might surprise you, but they don’t exactly cover the intricacies of kidnapping in PT school.”

“Shame.”

Remus made a noise of agreement around the straw of his Blizzard as they rolled to a stop at the red light. “So, are we going to talk?”

“We already are.”

“Dude.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He made a face when a chunk of Oreo got stuck the straw. “If you get that out before the next light, you can have a sip.”

Jules took it and squeezed the thin plastic. “Luke Sanders is an asshole.”

“Language.” The car stopped again and Jules showed off the unblocked straw. “Do continue, though.”

“You’ve hit every red light since we left the house. That’s got to be a curse.” He took a long sip, then handed it across the console. “You like hanging out with me, right?”

“Obviously. You’re, like, my favorite person.” Remus gave him a confused look.

“Okay, cool.” Jules felt his hands start to shake again, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from his ice cream. Just hearing him say that made a tsunami of relief run through him. “Cool.”

“Did Luke Sanders tell you I didn’t?”

“He said a lot of stuff.”

Remus pulled into a parking lot, then took the key out and turned in his seat. “Like what?”

Jules shrugged one shoulder. “That you don’t want to be here.”

“And?” His voice had softened.

“And that it’s my fault, since I’m an annoying little tagalong.” Jules picked at the paper wrapper around his cone and didn’t look up. “He’s got a p—”

“If you say he’s got a point, all your underwear is going in the freezer.” All traces of gentleness were gone from his tone, leaving tightly-controlled fury in its place.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t—” Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t apologize, Jules.”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah, because some little shit was picking on my brother and I wasn’t there to kick his ass.”

“I can handle it.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him even more. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Have you told anyone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Jules, there’s a difference between being a tattletale and reporting a bully.” Remus tipped his chin up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jules’ lower lip wobbled. “I missed you. I always miss you, but he’s been really awful recently and he keeps saying the same stupid stuff over and over.”

Remus’ nose and cheeks reddened. “I missed you, too. If I could be here all the time, I would.”

“I know it’s not your fault, and I know you’re busy.” He wiped away another tear and tried to pull himself together. “But it’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Remus agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m gone nine months out of the year, and it’s not right that people are making fun of you for it. Hang on for a second, okay?”

Jules nodded, still drying his cheeks. Remus got out of the car and jogged to the other side, then opened the passenger door and gestured for him to get out; as soon as his sneakers touched the ground, he was lifted almost a foot into the air. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he managed, burying his face in his brother’s neck.

Remus kissed the side of his head and held him close. “I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

He hooked his chin over Remus’ shoulder. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you be here whenever you can? I know that might not be often, but just…when you can.”

He felt Remus’ chest hitch against him. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.”

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (13)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: discussion of injuries which i know nothing about, effects of drunk driving.

SERIES: CHAPTER 12 | CHAPTER 14

Jeon Jeongguk missed you.

He missed you so much he felt like he was going crazy.

He didn't realize that a big part of you was occupying his whole being to the point that when the two of you separated ways, he felt like everything he had meant nothing if you weren't in his life.

He had been dreaming of buying his own apartment ever since he was young, but now that he finally had a house that he could call his own, Jeongguk came to know that this wasn't what he wanted.

What he desired was not a house—he wanted a home and home was wherever you were.

The walls surrounding him weren't going to protect him. It actually hurt him. The deafening silence kept on bouncing that he felt like he was gonna lose his sense of hearing.

Jeongguk decided he hated silence.

He wanted his house to be filled with your laughter.

"Seriously, Guk. Why am I here?"

Jeongguk couldn't speak as Red continued to glare at him.

Ji-eun and her father couldn't visit today because Namjoon had work to do. This left Jeongguk with no choice but to invite his ex-girlfriend in his abode. He hated being alone since it reminded him of how fucked up he was.

He needed a distraction.

"So now you're giving me the silent treatment?" Red rolled her eyes. This was one of her ex lover's habits that she hated. Jeongguk was so bad when it came to communicating.

"You need to tell me the truth if this is about her." Red sighed and Jeongguk froze. The former hadn't mentioned your name, yet Jeongguk was already affected. He knew Red was referring to you.

"I like her a lot and as much as I enjoy doing you a favor, I can't do this forever."

"Msorry..." Jeongguk avoided Red's eyes as he bit his lower lip. His heart hurt a lot.

"No." She shook her head as if her ex's apology was pure bullshit. This was truly unacceptable. "This isn't just about you, Jeongguk. Did you know that the whole office is either questioning my sexuality or thinking I'm a kiss-ass?"

"What?" The confused boy flicked his gaze at Red.

She snorted and then rolled her eyes once more.

"People think I'm in love with your soulmate because I basically cook her three meals a day. I also remind her to drink water, take her vitamins, leave her sweet notes, and change the flowers in her vase just because you are too much of a pussy to do it on your own!"

Jeongguk averted Red's glare again. She was right. He was a fucking coward—too scared to do all these good things on his own.

He was the one who left you, but he felt like you didn't want to do anything with him anymore. Jeongguk had accepted his sad fate, but it didn't mean he would stop taking care of you.

The truth was he was the one who cooked the food you eat every day. He was the one writing you sweet notes, he was the one bombarding Red text messages to kindly remind you to do the simple things you usually forgot because of your busy schedule.

Jeongguk was doing all of this without your knowledge.

How could he tell you when he knew he was unnecessarily mean to you?

"I mean it's about right. I told you I'm gonna stay here for a few months. It's over now. I don't want to be your tenant anymore."

What he said to you six months ago was deeply engraved in his head. This lie was what kept him awake at night.

Jeongguk was lying. Yes. It was true that he didn't want to be your tenant, but it didn't mean that he didn't want to live with you anymore.

But he was so confused—so fucked up in the head that the only solution was to push you away.

He stood by his belief. You did not understand anything and you did not love him.

But Jeongguk was sure of one thing—or at least he thought so.

"I-I," his adam's apple bobbed up and down. He was nervous.  "I think I like her..."

The girl's scoff indicated that she didn't like what he just said.

"You think?" She crossed her arms, making Jeongguk flinch. Her reaction reminded him of the time he met Red at Seokjin's birthday party.

"Why did you follow me, Jeongguk?" Red looked like she had seen a ghost, but she still folded her arms over her chest to intimidate Jeongguk.

It was easy to frighten him. All she had to do was to raise her brow and cross her arms.

"Wow," your soulmate gritted his teeth. "You haven't seen me in so long and this is how you greet me?"

Jeongguk wasn't expecting to see Red at this party. He was here because he wanted to be your date. The thought of you bringing Hoseok to this party made him so angry.

"How do you expect me to react, Guk? I don't want you here!" She was panicking. Jeongguk called her a bitch the last time they had seen each other.

Right now, Red couldn't help but think that Jeongguk would cause ruckus again.

This couldn't happen. Not right now. Not when people were watching Seokjin, and definitely not when you were here.

Red went to the veranda to get some air. She couldn't face you, couldn't face Jeongguk, and couldn’t face Seokjin. The latter had no idea that Jeongguk was the ex she was talking about. They hadn't had the chance to talk about your soulmate because Seokjin was too caught up with the divorce trial.

"So that's it, huh?" Jeongguk clenched his fist. "You'll just decide you don't want me anymore just because you found your soulmate!?"

"Yes!" Red did not even hesitate. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was so scared. All she could think about was the fact that Jeongguk could destroy this evening.

"I found my soulmate and I'm okay now. You should be happy too, JK. You have met the person destined for you."

Jeongguk looked away. How could he be happy? He found you, but he liked Red.

Red knew what was running inside his mind, so she shook her head and looked at Jeongguk straight in the eyes.

"Do not hurt her, Jeon. She's a one of a kind girl. You can't find another person as sweet and smart as her."

'But you're sweet and smart too!' Jeongguk wanted to argue.

"She saved my life. I owe her everything I have. I wouldn't even be able to meet my soulmate if it wasn't for her." She sobbed.

"So don't. Please. Don't hurt her."

Jeongguk blinked back to reality upon realizing that he broke Red's request.

He hurt you. Bad.

"You have to be one hundred percent sure about what you feel for her, Jeongguk. She deserves better than this."

He remained quiet, still pondering on what he felt.

Six months passed, but he felt like it wasn't enough to ease his doubts.

"No." He blurted out. "I-I like her,"

Red's expression softened, but she wasn't convinced yet. Jeongguk was stammering as if he wasn't certain.

"Are you really sure? I know I'm always pressuring you, but I want you to be real." She said carefully.

Jeongguk's heart was hammering. It felt like it wanted to be free from the cold cage he built.

"I don't know!" He looked like he was in a lot of pain. Tears were actually threatening to fall down his cheeks.

Jeongguk hated feelings. Why were they so complicated?

"Okay, Gukkie. Calm down."

Gukkie. You called him this. Jeongguk had another realization. That nickname was only cute when it came out of your pretty mouth.

He wanted to kiss you.

"I think you're just guilty and confused right now," Red started.

He could only listen.

"Guilty because you are being held back by the amount of time we spent together. You drilled it in your head that I am the one for you. You ignored the fact that soulmates exist and now that you're experiencing how the soulmate bond works, you became confused."

Red could feel that Jeongguk was skeptical of his own feelings. He was probably thinking that it was impossible for him to fall in love with you with just a few months.

But you see, that was how the soulmate bond worked. It made the impossible possible.

"I know it's hard to suddenly believe into something especially when all your life, you ignored and denied the existence of it."

Jeongguk only pursed his lips into a thin line.

Red continued.

"You feel guilty for trying to unlearn what you believe is a myth, but it's okay, Jeongguk. It's okay to let me go. You aren't cheating. Your feelings simply changed. Don't let our memories together ruin what your heart truly wants."

Confusion was eating him alive again.

"H-How do you know all of this?" He asked softly, making Red chuckle.

"Why do you think it took me so long to tell you that I found my soulmate, huh?"

Jeongguk shook his head. He honestly had no idea.

"It’s because I also went through this, Guk. It took me months to finally admit the truth to you since I was so guilty. We have been together for almost a decade and I feel like it would be such a waste to just let you go, but the heart wants what it wants. It's so much easier to just let things go."

Jeongguk grimaced. He regretted being an ass to Red when they broke up. If he only knew that it was this hard to be in denial...

"But don't get me wrong, okay? Letting go doesn't mean that you have to completely erase your memories with people. I still treasure the moments we spent together and I love you, Jeongguk—not in a romantic way, but I will always love you."

He was his first love, his first friend. Jeongguk had always been there for her. She knew he truly loved her.

As Red talked about their memories together, Jeongguk then started to reminisce the moments he had with you.

It was weird.

Weird that your memories together were not even half as many as the moments he spent with Red, yet all that's on his mind was you.

This was what terrified Jeongguk. You barely spent time together, but what he felt for you was strong—too strong that it defeated his ten years with Red.

"I don't know what to do," Jeongguk choked out a sob. It's annoying because Red was laughing.

"You poor bunny. I wish I could tell you how I did it, but you have to figure this on your own." This was the last thing she said before leaving Jeongguk alone.

Alone with his treacherous thoughts.

He kept playing the conversation he had with Red, making him realize that his own thoughts was the one making this hard for him.

Red was wrong.

Jeongguk wasn't confused.

He knew exactly what he felt for you.

He was just too much of a coward to admit it.

He never learned.

The six months he spent away from you should have served as a lesson by now, but no. Here he was, still ignoring the ache in his chest.

Jeongguk regretted leaving you months ago. He had to admit that it wasn't instant though.

That's the thing about regret. It came into a beautiful form—a disguise telling him that this was what he wanted even though he knew deep down that it was not.

He hated himself because of this. There were many warning signs from other people. He had heard so many times that regret was a two-faced bitch. It felt good at first, making him feel like he was floating because he was finally free.

But then it would come back to haunt him—to drown him with what ifs and I should have—to suffocate him until he couldn't breathe anymore.

Jeongguk hated himself because of this. Why couldn't he be like others? He envied those people who could express their feelings in the right way. Those people who knew how to dodge regret.

He wasn't like them. He got overwhelmed too quickly—causing him to panic and do stupid things.

But really. What was his way of expressing himself? How could he ease the doubts in his head?

What kind of outlet would serve as his way to be able to express the heaviness in his chest?

Jeongguk could only think about one thing.

He went to his art room. There was too much space in this house, but his loneliness still couldn't fit.

Everything in this room was sad. The easel looked sad, the palette looked sad, his blank canvas looked sad.

It was sad that he couldn't find the will to paint anymore.

What was the use of seeing colors when he couldn't do what he loved? What was the used of seeing colors when he couldn't see the color in your eyes?

Jeongguk's lips trembled as he gripped the brush in his hand.

He really couldn't do it.

Maybe he should look at his previous works to get inspiration?

Yeah. That's probably the best thing to do...

Jeongguk brought out the box full of the things you had bought for him.

It had been half a year since he touched these materials. He couldn't bring himself to even look at this before. It reminded him so much of you.

Jeongguk let out a shaky breath.

The box was overloading with art. The months he spent with you caused him to produce these lovely sketches.

He smiled while looking at the pile of sticky notes on the floor. These were the ones he drew when he was overwhelmed with colors.

Sketching was much simpler. It calmed his raging emotions.

Jeongguk started to absentmindedly piece together the pictures in the sticky notes drawn by him.

"Holy shit," his eyes suddenly dilated upon realizing that these tiny sketches made up a larger picture of your eyes when they were put together—similar to a puzzle.

Jeongguk's blood was rushing. It was as if he was slapped by reality.

The larger picture was your eyes, the small ones that were drawn in each sticky notes were every tiny detail about you: your mouth, your neck, your fingers, and everything in between.

This was it.

This was his way of expressing feelings.

His lips lie, but his artworks tell.

Jeongguk understood now what Red was implying. She was right. No one could help him, not even the love you claimed you felt for him.

This was all on Jeongguk. He realized that he had to admit it himself that he loved you, that he wanted to be with you, and that he believed in soulmates because he wanted to and not because other people force him to do so.

Realization was the complete opposite of regret. The latter was slow, the former was instant. It would hit you when you least expected it.

Jeongguk was certain.

His doubts were cleared because he knew you could see colors now.

You should be able to see with flashing colors and light, so why weren't you?

"J-Jimin?" You whispered, uncertain, unstable, and unhappy.

You were surrounded by negative prefix that was making him feel sick.

When Jeongguk found out that he loved you, he imagined begging for forgiveness at your feet— telling you how much of an idiot he was and that he was willing to take whatever you could give—no, scratch that. You didn't have to give anything at all.

It was his time to show you how much you meant to him.

This was why Jeongguk texted you, asking you to meet him. When you didn't answer, he was forced to call you.

Unfamiliar voice welcomed him to bring the terrible news.

The person on the other line told him that you were in a hospital. Your car crashed because you were driving under the influence of alcohol.

Jeongguk didn't know what to do after knowing this information. He was out of his mind. It was a miracle that he was able to reach the hospital in one piece.

He remembered running like crazy, he was crossing the street even though cars were approaching. He ignored the profanities leaving their mouths.

He just didn't care about anything. He just needed to get to you.

He couldn't get to you—at least not now. The doctors were still treating you. Luckily they told Jeongguk everything. He didn't even need to show his I.D to prove that the two of were related. He only needed to tell them that he was your soulmate.

It's funny how he refused to believe in the idea of soulmate before, but right now, he was using it to beg other people to believe that you were destined to be together.

Jeongguk waited in vain, staring into the space and praying to God he didn't believe in.

Desperation always led people into doing things they never thought they'd ever do.

"You're Jimin, right?" You continued to ask, still unsure.

Jeongguk didn't know how to answer. You were acting strange. Couldn't you tell that it was him who was in front of you now? Was this one of effects of the accident?

"I'm sorry I keep asking," you bit the inside of your cheeks as tears filled your eyes.

Jeongguk was quick to wipe your tears away. His touch was gentle, but you still winced.

Everything about you hurt.

"I can't see you. I-I can't see anything. It's all black..."

Jeongguk's heart sank, his blood running cold.

What did you just say?

"I'm so scared, Jimin-ah. This is different from the colorless world." Your tears were flowing non-stop, similar to the painful sound that kept on hammering your soulmate's chest.

"I feel like I'm going crazy. There's nothing here, it's just darkness sucking me in."

You were quivering in agitation. You felt helpless. It was as though everyone was fully geared up and you're here, naked—just waiting to be taken advantage of.

Being blind made you more vulnerable. You just wished this wasn't forever. The doctors said that there were two probable reasons why you couldn't see.

The first one was because of the accident. They already treated your injuries, but they said you still needed an eye surgery. Apparently, you hit your head when your car crashed. They said you didn't need to worry since this was the most common type of treatment for people experiencing temporary blindness.

Temporary.

You hoped this was temporary. Your heart couldn't take it if the reason why you were blind was because of your tragic fate.

The doctors told you that your blindness might be because of the existence of soulmate. It had come to your learning that the medical world was now considering this myth as a reality.

If this was the case, you were really damned.

"I'm sorry..." Jeongguk blurted out. He couldn't stop crying after knowing what happened to you.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Why was the universe being so cruel to him? Was he wrong? Was breaking from the phase of denial not enough? Was he really your soulmate? But why...why did you turn blind after he finally accepted the love he felt for you? Was it not enough?

Was Jeongguk not enough? Did he hurt you to the point that nothing, not even his love, could bring you back to light?

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry!" Jeongguk wailed, he was aching to touch you, but he was scared to cause you pain.

He caused you pain.

He would always cause you pain.

This was evident when you felt a sharp pang in your chest upon recognizing his voice.

He wasn't Jimin.

You did not pour your heart to Park Jimin.

You told everything to the wrong person.

You made yourself vulnerable in front of Jeon Jeongguk. Again.

"J-Jeongguk?" Your voice was loaded with disappointment and sadness.

He sobbed even harder.

"I-It's me," his voice cracked. "I'm here."

It's me. I'm here. If you were the person you were before, you would probably be rejoicing now.

Jeon Jeongguk was here. You didn't know if he was here because of you or not. In the end, it didn't matter since:  "I'm glad," you said." I'm glad you're here."

You did not sound like you were glad. Not at all. Jeongguk couldn't be mistaken. Your voice was too monotonous to be considered happy. Your expression was impassive it made you look like you had no life.

But you were glad. You're sure of this because at least you didn't have to beg Jimin or any other people to ask Jeongguk to come see you.

He was here so you could already tell him what you had been meaning to.

"I'm sorry, Jeongguk," this was what you meant.

He did not understand.

Why were you saying sorry when he should be the one begging you to take him back?

"I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable so many times. I didn't mean to—"

"Don't say that," he cut you off, but you continued.

This time you were smiling.

"Allow me to," you gulped. "Allow me to so that I could understand why."

What were you saying now?

"I have to apologize and you have to tell me what I did wrong, Jeongguk. You have to tell me what I did to make you hate me this much."

You were crying. The pain was unbearable. It was making you think of the worst case scenario. It was making you imagine things that weren't true. It was making you feel like his hatred towards you was the reason why you couldn't see.

You were blaming him.

You had the right to.

He hurt you so much.

"What did I do to deserve this?" You had been a good person. You weren't hurting anyone consciously. You had been giving everything you had, so why? Why was your soul still bleeding?

"I let you go, Jeongguk. I am letting you go. Can't you do the same? Can't you really let go of the hatred in your heart and just let me live?"

Jeongguk couldn't speak. You were feeding your head with lies.

Jeon Jeongguk did not hate you because Jeon Jeongguk loved you.

He loved you with all of his heart.

"Let me go, Jeongguk."

With his body.

"I don't want to be your soulmate anymore."

And soul.

You did not want to love Jeon Jeongguk.

You loved him. Once. But not this time.

[syrupwit]

happy friday! for dadwc, "Argument before tragedy lingers as a guilt-inducing memory", perhaps for Anders/Warden?

Ah, thank you, and please excuse me for filling so many of your prompts this week! This one... yikes. Pain! An unreliable narrator with a lot of issues. And me being awake writing when maybe I should be, asleep.

Under the cut: ~565 words of f!Amell/Anders for @dadrunkwriting.

-

Solona returned to Vigil’s Keep in time to preside over a half-dozen funerals.

Anders was gone. Justice was also gone, and there was quite a bit of murmuring about that, rumors that she couldn’t listen to if she wanted to make it through the week. The idea that he would make a deal—that either of them would choose to—

It wasn’t true. Anders was dead, or he’d run away by himself. If she met him again, it would be in the Fade. She had known something like this would happen eventually, ever since she’d first seen him, not here but back in the Circle. 

He wouldn’t remember. She hadn’t realized it was him until recently, in this memory that had somehow stuck in her head. But it had been him: an apprentice a few years older than her, sixteen or seventeen, laughing and striking silly poses while he talked to some enchanter in the library. His conversation partner had turned away for a second, she’d snuck a curious look at his face as his expression went flat, and then she’d gotten this feeling of dread, like—

Solona forced her thoughts to stop wandering. She had work to do.

Her thoughts returned, and then wandered again.

They had argued shortly before she left, this last time. That wasn’t unusual. What had been unusual was the length and viciousness of the argument. Anders could be redirected most of the time; he liked to joke when he was angry, which typically led to him calming down as he imagined that his barbs both sounded clever and landed. Flirting also helped, though she was bad at doing that on purpose. 

This last argument, about Rolan joining the Wardens… Anders hadn’t let her redirect him. She had been trying to reason with him, calm him, and he hadn’t let her. Each word that came out of her mouth just made him angrier, until they were standing nose to nose and he was yelling in her face.

She’d told him that she would protect him; he’d countered that he could never be protected, no matter where he went, and especially not by someone like her.

“You’re worse than any Templar,” he’d spat at her, “because you go along with them. You act like you believe what the Chantry tells you about us, even though you know it’s wrong, and you think that will keep you safe. But you’re just one more mage to them, no matter what titles you have.”

“They’d make us all Tranquil if they could,” he’d added. Solona—whose intention in inviting him to her quarters had been to, as had become customary, get drunk and then sleep with him—had burst out laughing.

She could still see the look on his face. It had given her that same feeling of dread, and prompted the resurgence of her first memory of Anders.

Well, she’d been right to be wary of him, hadn’t she? Now people were dead, and he was an abomination—or dead himself, or a runaway. Or a monster who could shred flesh from bone.

She would never see him again as he had been. She would never be able to apologize to him, or touch him, or use her cowardice and hypocrisy for his benefit.

Guilt helped nothing and served no one. But Solona knew that what had happened to Anders was her fault.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[sunflowersupremes]

I think I've made like, two sarcastic comments about how I'm glad the Finarfin you've mentioned isn't the Finarfin from my stories (or at least in the splinters like jewel shards verse) but I don't think I've asked, do you have any headcanons on Finarfin? I'm interested if you'd like to share any!

-@outofangband

@outofangband

Yes!!! I remember that comment. I also hope he’s a bit nicer than the Finarfin from Return in Chains, one of my fics (although that Finarfin isn’t evil… just… makes questionable decisions out of desperation, which is basically the Finwean Family Pastime).

I LOVE FINARFIN.

He thinks “Finarfin” (aka Finwe-Ara-Finwe) is a terrible name and can’t believe his brother would have done such a stupid thing. (He also thinks “Fingolfin” is a terrible translation).

After all his relatives took off and left them, he got put in charge of not only the country, but also literally everyone’s CRAP. Meaning, as the only remaining member of the house of Finwë, he had to figure out what to do with all the houses and possessions they left behind. He ended up boarding them up and leaving them, in the hopes that they would come back one day (elven possessions don’t rot or decay, after all).

The only time he used one of his relatives homes after they left was gifting Maglor’s house to Celebrían when she arrived. By that time he had accepted that Maglor would never return, and he figured she had the best claim to it (and it had the largest garden, which he knew she would like, and it was in the artist’s district which she loved). When Elrond actually managed to drag Maglor back with him, Arafinwë was SHOCKED. Thankfully, Maglor was fine with him gifting it to her and just moved in with them.

He just generally seems like he wants the best for everyone. I don’t think he’s a coward, I think he’s just very cautious (and he has a bit of foresight, which means he probably saw that the future would be WORSE if he went as well). I also like the idea that part of his reason for staying was ‘get on the Valar’s good side so I can eventually convince them to help’ not realizing that by the time they helped his entire family would be dead.

He has a great sense of humor and is generally a fun guy to be around. His assorted relatives know they’re always welcome at either of his homes (he has one in Tirion and one in Aqualonde) even if he’s not there himself. Half the time he gets back from vacation to find at least two random nieces/nephews chilling in his house.

He and Maglor both have a similar grasp of emotions and Osanwe. Maglor uses his gifts to fuck with people; Finarfin tries to use his to help people. He spends a lot of time going around fixing all the people Maglor has screwed with.

Arafinwë annoys Maglor precisely because he can see through Maglor’s attempts at manipulation. Maglor tried to trick him into doing something once and Finarfin calmly said ‘if you wanted attention you only had to ask’ (that, of course, was HIGHLY OFFENSIVE as far as Maglor was concerned).

Arafinwë does not want the crown. It is a running joke in Tirion that whenever someone from the line of Finwë is reborn or sails, he tries to give them the crown (it is true, actually, but no one else wants the thing either). He even tries to give it to Maglor once he turns up.

His attempt at inventing democracy backfired when he was elected.

Nerdanel becomes very close to him during the First Age while they bond over missing their children.

He keeps a memorial in the palace garden, with markers - made by Nerdanel - for every fallen member of the house of Finwë. They even add a marker for Gil-Galad after the Last Alliance even though no one has any idea who the fuck he is or if he’s related. The memorials are kept even after the dead are re-embodied, as a reminded of ‘that dumb thing you did that one time’

He makes annual trips to the Halls of Mandos just to ‘chat’ with Namo (and subtly inquire as to when he’s going to be getting his relatives back). Finrod’s release was, in part, to try to appease Arafinwë, but all it did was make him more determined that he COULD get the rest of his family back.

He informs Namo that no, no you will NOT be keeping my brother and his children until the Second Music, thank you very much. (Namo points out that their Fëar are very badly damaged, Arafinwë asks why the fuck Namo thinks that he - as a Vala - is best equipped to heal people who hate his guts)

Fëanor gave him a pet swan when he was five because Fëanor thinks swans are assholes and expected it to terrorize his younger brother. Instead Arafinwë befriended the swan and trained it to bite Fëanor on command.

Arafinwë typically doesn’t eat meat, the only exception is fish.

He can’t figure out why the Valar put Eönwë in charge of the host. I mean, he’s a great guy and a terrifying fighter, but he seems to have a few screws loose.

Elrond and Elros’ return to Gil-Galad was only because of Arafinwë. Maedhros and Maglor didn’t trust the host of the Valar, but Arafinwë sent them a letter promising to personally watch over the twins and arguing that they would be safer with the Host. Because of this, Elrond and Elros resented him for a long time, blaming him for taking them away from their adopted family.

Arafinwë spent a good chunk of the War of the Wrath keeping Eönwë from accidentally causing Diplomatic Incidents or Other Minor Catastrophes. The rest of the War was spent trying to work how the the fuck he’s related to Gil-Galad. He still isn’t sure, he’s pretty sure Fingon might have just picked up a random kid somewhere. Or he might be a Fëanorian, but he kind of hopes NOT. He loves his half-brother, but holy fuck.

It was his idea to turn Morgoth’s crown into a collar, because he was fucking pissed off by that point. It was mostly a joke, but Eönwë, being a himbo, went with it.

He was attempting to negotiate either the return of the Silmarils OR a different way to end the Oath when Maedhros and Maglor stole the Silmarils from Eönwë’s camp. One of the guards they killed was a childhood friend of Arafinwë. Arafinwë already had rooms waiting for Maedhros and Maglor back in Tirion, because as soon as he got them on a boat he was planning to take them straight home, whether that was the Valar’s plan or not.

Arafinwë had managed to arrange a pardon for Galadriel, but she was still angry and proud and announced that she didn’t want it, thus resulting in her getting a personal ban.

He knew Galdalf before he went to Middle Earth and gave him a very long list of things to tell Galadriel, most of which amounted to ‘get over yourself and apologize to the Valar so you can come home you fucking idiot (and please tell Elrond hello, he’s a lovely child, really)’

He adores the Hobbits and can’t believe Elrond managed to bring them. Gandalf who? He gives his grandson-in-law all the credit, thank you very much.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Four

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2900 

Warnings: angst, toxic relationship, emotional blackmail 

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Three | Masterlist

- - - -

“Father?” 

A voice calling out in the church stops us mid kiss.

“Oh shit, it’s Pam!” The Priest whispers, eyes wide.

“Father, are you in here?” She calls out again.

Remembering his confession about hiding from her I can’t help but find it amusing we’re now both hiding in this tiny box. A tiny giggle escapes my lips and the Priest shushes me, placing his hand gently over my mouth. 

After a minute Pam finally retreats back to her room, leaving us alone. The priest waits another few seconds before removing his hand and letting out a sigh. 

“That was too close” 

“Was kinda hot though” I reply, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Yeah it was” he laughs, kissing me back “but we should probably move this back to my office incase she comes back” He kisses me again and takes my hand. He pokes his head out from the curtain to check no ones there before leading me out the confession box and to his office. He shuts the door and to my surprise spins me around till my back falls against it. He immediately resumes kissing me, letting out small breathless moans as our tongues explore each others mouths. His hands find their way from my hips, up my sides and to the buttons of my shirt. I place my hands over his, stopping him.

“Do you mind if we don’t, just yet.. I'm not- I'm not ready for that” I stutter “I'm sorry”

He plants a kiss on my forehead before leaning his forehead against mine.

“We don’t have to do anything until you're ready” he whispers and smiles a genuine, loving smile which I return. 

“Can we just cuddle for a bit?” I ask shyly

“Of course” 

He leads me over to the two seater sofa and sits down, gently pulling me down with him and wrapping himself around me. 

Laying on the Priest’s small sofa, my head on his chest and his arms around me, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. We stay like that for at least ten minutes, silently enjoying the blissful feeling of each others company. 

I tilt my head to look up at him and find him watching me. 

“What?” I giggle, feeling slightly self conscious under his gaze. 

“Nothing, just- thinking”

“About what?”

“It doesn’t matter”

He smiles at me and places a kiss on my forehead. He brings his hand up to stroke the side of my face, his thumb gently glides over my burns and his face changes. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“He did this to you, didn’t he?”

I nod, biting my lip slightly. 

“Because you were with me?” 

“No” I reply quickly, not wanting him to think this was his fault “lt was my fault, I called him pathetic”

“That’s no excuse to hurt you!” 

“It’s always been a trigger word for Daniel.” I explain and he looks at me confused. I remove myself from under his arms and sit up to face him “His father always used to call him that. He wasn’t a very nice man, he was an alcoholic with anger issues. He used to beat Daniel’s mother in front of him and tell him it was his fault. And if he cried, like any child would, he told him he was pathetic.”

“That’s awful”

“When Daniel’s mother died, his dad changed. Started going to church and completely turned his life around. He was like a new man. But Daniel never forgave him. Even after he died, he just couldn’t. And I don't blame him, I can’t imagine the things he must have seen. At the funeral all these people from the church kept telling Daniel that his father was up in heaven watching over him, and he hated it. The idea that this man who did such horrendous things was allowed be in heaven, it made him so angry. That’s why he’s got such an issue with you. It’s not really about you personally, it’s what you stand for. Just religion in general.”

“Then why get married in a church?”

“My fault again. I had to beg and beg him to let me have the wedding here. My parents aren’t around anymore either but I have such fond memories of being here with them that I thought if we had the wedding here it would feel like they were with me. I know must sound silly-”

“Not at all, it’s a lovely thought. I bet they’d be so proud of you.”

“I hope so” 

The sound of the phone ringing pulls us out of our conversation. The Priest goes to his desk and picks up the phone. 

“Hello?” He answers with a cheery voice. 

Suddenly the smiles disappears from his face and he looks at me with wide eyes.

“Oh hi Daniel”

My heart stops. I feel like I could throw up. What the hell is Daniel doing calling the Priest? Does he know I’m here? Does he know what we’ve done?

“Slow down, say that again”

I watch intently as the Priest listens to Daniel on the other end, trying to figure out from his facial expressions what they’re talking about. 

“No I haven’t seen her” he lies “Why? What’s happened?” 

He must be asking about me. I take my phone from my pocket and power it on. I had turned it off in the hospital and completely forgot to turn it back on again. Multiple messages and endless missed calls from Daniel. 

“Don't worry, I’m sure she’s fine. If I see her I’ll let her know you're looking for her okay? Okay bye Daniel” he puts the phone down and looks up at me again “he sounds like he’s really panicking about you”

“Good!”

“You need to go home” the Priest says, walking over to me

“I don't want to” 

“I know. But you're gonna have to face him sooner or later” he puts his hands on my shoulders and I look up into his eyes before letting out a sigh.

“You're right. I should go. Thank you, for everything” I smile at him giving him a quick kiss before heading to the door. 

“Y/N?” He calls after me and I turn back to look at him “none of it is your fault”  

— — — —

The moment I step through the front door Daniel comes running, full of apologies. 

“Oh my God, Y/N. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Please forgive me. I love you so much. What did the hospital say?” 

“It will heal eventually. They gave me some cream for the pain.”

“I am so sorry! I’m gonna change-”

“I’ve heard it all before” I snap

“I know, I know- but I mean it. Here, let me take your shoes off for you”

“I don't need your help” I say, kicking my shoes off

“Let me take care of you! Go to bed and I’ll come up in a minute. Please, I want to make it up to you”

I stare him out for a moment before giving in and doing as he says. I get into some fresh pyjamas and climb into bed. A few minutes later I hear him coming upstairs.

“I made you a fresh coffee, since you didn’t get to drink yours this morning” 

He puts the coffee on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. He takes the cream from the table and squeezes some onto his fingers. He reaches towards me and I instinctively flinch away from his touch.

“Please, let me do this” he says quietly and I give him a small nod. 

I can’t help but let out a small whimper of pain as he touches my skin.

“Sorry!” 

I can't even look at him. I can hear from his voice he’s trying not to cry and the last thing I want to feel right now is pity for him. 

Once he’s finished applying the cream he wipes his hands on a tissue and climbs into bed next to me. He cautiously reaches over to put his arm around me, and because I don't have to the energy to argue I allow him to pull me in to cuddle up to him. 

He takes the remote from his bedside table drawer and turns the tv on. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

“We need to talk” I say and he turns the tv off again, releasing me from his arm and sitting up to look at me. He looks terrified.

“Okay?”

“Look I’ve been thinking-”

“Please” he interrupts, grabbing my hands and begging “don't break up with me!”

“Daniel” I sigh 

“I’ve been panicking all day thinking that you’d left me. If you hadn’t come home, I don't know what I would have done… I can’t live without you by my side.”

“Stop! I’m not breaking up with you… I just think we need time to work things out”

“What do you mean?” He looks concerned. 

“We should postpone the wedding”

“No! No we don't need to do that. What happened today will never happen again. I promise.” He says and I smirk slightly at hearing yet another empty promise. He notices. “I mean it. Y/N, I have waited over half my life to marry you. I don't wait any longer. I want to call you my wife and show everyone how much I love you!”

I watch as he squeezes my hand tightly in his own, almost as if he’s scared I’ll suddenly slip away and he’ll lose me. His eyes search mine and I can see the desperate panic he feels. I let out a sigh. 

“Okay, we’ll keep the set date.” I finally say and I see the relief flood through Daniel “but I don't think we should get married in the church”

“I thought that’s what you wanted”

“I do- I did. But you clearly don't want to and that’s okay. We’ll find somewhere that makes us both happy.”

“No, I don't want my issues to be the reason you don't get your dream wedding. We’re getting married in the church, and I’m going to make things right with the priest. I promise. When’s the next meeting?”

“Oh, you really don't have to-“

“I want to! It’s the final one before the big day right?” He asks and I nod “then I should definitely go! When is it?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there.”

— — — — 

After another night of dreaming of the Priest, I was awakened by Daniel bringing me breakfast in bed. 

“This looks lovely, thank you” I say as he places the tray over my lap and gives me a kiss on the forehead. A memory flashes in my head of the priest pressing his lips to that same spot yesterday. 

“You're most welcome m’lady” he says in his poshest voice and bows like a butler, making an involuntary giggle escape my mouth “listen I’ve got to pop out but I’ll meet you at the church this afternoon”

“Okay” I nod, highly doubting he’s actually going to turn up. 

“I love you!” He kisses me again before leaving. 

Hearing him say he loves me sends a sudden pang of guilt through me. He loves me. And despite everything I do still love him. So why can’t I stop thinking about the priest? When I’m around him I feel more content than I’ve felt in years. I know I haven't known him for very long but I feel so strongly for him, its insane. 

How can I love two guys at once?

I let out a sigh and shake the thoughts out of my head. 

Once I finish my breakfast I get out of bed, have a shower and get ready for the day. I find myself counting down the hours till I get to see the priest again and as I finally make my way to the church the excited butterflies in my stomach are fluttering so hard I swear they’re going to burst out of me and fly right to him. I turn the corner and smile as I see him standing outside the front door chatting to someone. Our eyes meet and he smiles back at me, sending my heart soaring. That is until the man he’s chatting to turns around and I realise its Daniel. Then my heart feels like it stops all together. I know he said he was going to be here today I just didn’t believe he would actually show up. I’m almost disappointed he’s crashed my alone time with the priest. 

I snap out of it and remind myself I’m supposed to be happy, plastering an over the fake smile on my face as I greet my fiancé. 

“You're here!” I say, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. 

“I said I would be didn’t I? I have something for you, wait here” Daniel says before rushing off toward the carpark. I take my chance to talk to the priest. 

“I can’t believe he actually came”

“He also apologised to me”

“He did what?”

“I know, it’s a miracle!” The priest says sarcastically. 

“Doubt it. I’m sure he’ll be back to his usual self as soon as something gets him angry. I dread to think what he’d do if he ever found out that we...”

“Yeah about that. We both had too much to drink and I think we both said and did things we shouldn’t have. Maybe it’s best if we just... pretend that didn’t happen?”

My heart sinks as I realise what he’s saying. He regrets kissing me. But he told me he loved me! What if that just the alcohol talking? I realise he’s waiting for a response. 

“Of course, yeah you’re right! We were both drunk and I’d had a really bad day. Neither of us were in our right minds. It never happened” 

The priest doesn’t respond, just looks past me to something behind me. I turn around to follow his gaze and see the biggest flower bouquet I’ve ever seen walking towards me with Daniel’s legs. 

“Oh my God” I gasp

“I wanted to get you something as beautiful as you are, but nothing came close. This was the best I could do” 

“Thank you” I say quietly, blushing slightly “this must have cost a fortune!”

“You're worth every penny” he replies and I can’t help but smile as he leans in and kisses me. This is the Daniel I fell for all those years ago, not the man he’s become lately. Could he really have changed back?

“Oh isn’t that lovely” the Priest says, there’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice but it’s so subtle that thankfully Daniel doesn’t catch it “shall we head inside”

— — — — 

The meeting is nothing like I expected it to be. Daniel, being true to his word, was over the top friendly with the Priest. Every question asked, he would answer straight away. He was cracking jokes, telling stories about things we’ve done together and the places we’ve been. I couldn’t get a word in even if I wanted to. Although the Priest was smiling along, I could tell he couldn’t wait for this meeting to be over. He almost looks relieved when Pam knocks on the office door. 

“So sorry to interrupt Father, the Parish council are on the phone. Something about tomorrow’s fundraiser.. shall I tell them to call back later?”

“No no” he says quickly, jumping up from his chair “it’s okay, we’re pretty much done here anyway.” He turns back to look at us “sorry for the abrupt ending but…”

“Of course, we understand” Daniel responds getting up from his chair, and I do the same. 

“Pam will show you out” the Priest holds the door open for us and Daniel walks out behind Pam. I follow but stop at the door, face to face with the priest. 

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly and he nods, not able to look me in the eye. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds. I study him for a moment before he speaks again “better not keep those parish councillors waiting” I catch his hint and leave the room, taking one last look back at the Priest as he shuts the door before I run to catch up with Daniel and Pam. 

“Will we be seeing you at the fundraiser garden party tomorrow?” Pam asks as I join them at the door.

“I’m working” Daniel answers “but Y/N could”

“I’d love to but I’ve got my hen party tomorrow-” I excuse

“Yeah but that’s in the evening. You’re free all day right?” Dan argues

“uh… yeah I guess I am” I agree, reluctantly 

“Great! The more the merrier” Pam smiles “make sure you bring plenty of cash” 

“Will do. See you tomorrow” I say, giving her a small wave as Daniel and I head to the car. 

Daniel chats constantly on the drive home but I don't listen to a word. Instead my thoughts are consumed by the priest and his dismissive attitude towards me. How in the space of 24 hours can he have gone from telling me he loves me, to now not being able to look at me? 

Was it because Daniel was there? Did I do or say something wrong?

I guess I”ll have to wait till the fundraiser tomorrow to find out. 

Part Five

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Five- Photograph

“That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.” ― Hope Collier,

Aubrey was almost out the door when her mother dropped the bombshell on her. Usually her mom wasn’t even awake when she was leaving for school, she was still sleeping off whatever bender she had gone on the night before. She was up today, in a stained robe with unkempt hair, but she was up.

“We’re going to visit Flora for dinner tonight. Go home on Basil’s bus, I don’t want you trying to skip out on this,” Past Aubrey would have been elated. Not only was her mom up, but they were going to see her best friend for dinner. Now she growled in irritation and rolled her eyes.

“Mom-”

“Aubrey, don’t even think about starting up,” Her mother cut her off with a warning look. Aubrey shut her mouth but hot anger lit up in her veins. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming as her mother continued her lecturing, “That woman is old and her time is coming soon. Respect thy elders, it’s the godly thing to do,”

The hypocrisy of it filled Aubrey’s mouth with poison, and she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her mom loved to spout religious crap like this all the time, acting like saying scripture somehow equated to being a good person. Aubrey would have loved to ask her what part of her oh so precious book told her that getting drunk every night was godly, but if she started that fight again she would never make it to school on time.

“Whatever,” Aubrey muttered in lieu of her actual thoughts, pushing past her mother and out the front door. Her mother’s little lecture had taken long enough that the bus stop was completely empty, and that only made Aubrey’s mood even worse. She seized her scooter and whipped it around, putting all of her mental frustration into the physical act of riding to school and away from her house as fast as possible.

The ride did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s anger and a dark storm cloud hung around her through every period. Students gave her a wide berth and teachers looked at her with distrustful eyes. They were all expecting something to happen, and she hated them for it. They always expected the worst of her. Kel had tried approaching her during their shared study hall, and she ignored him till he left. He wasn’t a true friend, he didn’t really care about her. Aubrey had to remember that, or she would fall for his tricks again.

By the end of the day, Aubrey was exhausted. To the rest of the world, she seemed just as bitter and angry as she was when she got to school, but it was just an easy front that she put out to keep them all away. Truthfully, she just wanted to go home, climb the stairs to her room, and curl up with her bunny (). She wanted to block out the world and all of the fake people in it, forget about false friends and the never ending loneliness that threatened to crush her at any point.

She couldn’t. She had to go to Basil’s.

She found Basil waiting outside, off in a corner. He was standing slightly hunched over, like he was trying to disappear right where he stood. Absolutely pathetic, but that was Basil. A weakling who had used Aubrey. Kel was with him, clearly talking at Basil and not to him. Basil wasn’t even paying attention, just staring off at the trees and playing with his fingers the way Aubrey hated. She walked over in long purposeful strides, putting herself in the middle between the two boys.

“Get lost,” Aubrey snapped, hoping that Kel would argue right back with her. It would be a good outlet, something that would get rid of the storm cloud. Basil was no fun to fight with, he just cried and apologized. At least Kel would do it properly.

But luck was not on her side. Kel didn’t fire back with a harsh retort or even give her a glare. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, something that instantly set alarm bells of resentment ringing in her head. She hated when he acted higher and mightier, rising above her like he was too good to fight with her. It was the same as her mother’s religious rambling, just another hypocrite who thought they were better than they were and judged Aubrey for not playing their game.

“I’ll see you later, Basil ,” Kel said, deliberately putting emphasis on ignoring that Aubrey even existed. The urge to kick out his legs and pound him into the dirt was overwhelming, but the sound of the buses starting to rumble cut off that train before it left the station. She growled and yanked Basil along with her by the wrist, walking over to his bus and climbing the high steps. Aubrey practically threw him into an open three seater and launched her bag in after, sitting as close to the aisle as she could and as far away from him as possible.

She didn’t want them, but as she sat on the bus with her former oldest friend, memories of all the times they had done this before came to her one by one. They had always chosen a two seater before, they hadn’t needed the room of three. They would cram close together and read the same book, or chat about all the things they could do when they got to his house. They had almost missed their stop multiple times because they were so lost in their conversation, and oftentimes they had to shout for the bus driver to hold on so they could get off. It was funny, sweet to the point of saccharine.

The thoughts made Aubrey sick now. She tried to pretend it was just the righteous fury she obviously should have felt at their betrayal, but there was something else in there. A thing with dark claws that dug into her chest and made itself known with pain. The word for it sat heavy in her mind, there but unspoken, pushed to some long forgotten corner that she never looked at and never wanted to. Aubrey had enough trouble grieving the dead, she had no need for grieving the living too. The bus reached their stop and she hopped off without looking back. Basil would follow or he wouldn’t, she didn’t care either way.

“Aubrey!” Flora tottered towards them down the sidewalk, her cane clutched firmly in her right hand. Her white hair was pulled up in her signature bun, and her dress was a pretty floral blue that matched her eyes.

She pulled Aubrey into a hug once the young girl was close enough, holding her in a tight squeeze. Aubrey put her hands around Flora, but she didn’t hug her back. Flora was fragile, her bones easily felt through paper dry skin. Aubrey hoped she never got old enough to feel this breakable, but the hug was still warm and comforting. Flora smelled like old lady soap and dried flowers and clean laundry, a smell that Aubrey loved for how safe it made her feel, and hated for how fleetingly often she got to experience it.

When Flora pulled back she kept her hands on Aubrey’s upper arms, looking the girl up and down. Aubrey resisted the urge to squirm, holding her breath as the old woman appraised her. She hadn’t seen Basil’s grandmother since the funeral almost two years ago, and she knew Flora hadn’t seen her shocking pink hair yet, or the new styles she liked to wear. Aubrey began to steel herself for a long winded speech about respecting her body like a temple, the kind her mom liked to preach after her second bottle of wine.

“You got taller,” Flora commented, turning around and leading the way back to the house, “Come inside, I made some snacks for you two,”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been keeping, letting Basil walk in front of her and towards his house. Flora had never been a mean spirited woman or purposefully judgemental, but Aubrey’s threshold for trust was a lot lower than it used to be. Her anger began to bleed out and shame took its place. Aubrey usually thought the worst of people, and that didn’t bother her because she was usually proven right in the end, but there were exceptions. Flora had never done anything to earn her ire, even if her grandson had.

Aubrey followed them into their home, taking her shoes off at the entrance and looking around. Nothing had changed really, flowers and plants still hung in pots all around and the bookshelf was still packed to the brim. There was a pot bubbling on the stove and vegetables half cut on a board next to it. Flora gestured towards the table and slowly made her way to the fridge, pulling out a carton of strawberries and two oranges. She made quick work of the fruits and was soon putting a platter of cut up pieces of fruit between the two children.

“You two can finish your homework here while I finish up the grub. Dinner is going to be in an hour and a half. I know five o’clock is a little early for you youngins, but I like to be in bed by six!” The old woman laughed at her own nonexistent joke, the sound creaky and roughened with age. She had to stop to cough halfway through, but she waved away Basil’s worried gaze and reaching arms, “Please dear I’m fine. Aubrey you have to teach my grandbaby here how to relax more and just enjoy life,”

Aubrey didn’t respond, using digging through her backpack as an excuse to not have to acknowledge what Basil’s grandmother had said. It was less of a hassle to pretend that she hadn’t heard then to lie and act like she cared if Basil was uptight or not. Basil also didn’t say anything, he just started his work in silence. Flora’s genial mood faltered ever so slightly, but she took their dampened mood in stride.

“Okay then, while you two mope, I’ll keep working on dinner,”

Flora went over to the kitchen proper and turned on the radio, listening to some talk show that Aubrey’s mom also liked. The girl settled into her seat and began to flip through her work, picking and choosing which assignments she would do and which ones she would blow off. There was no point to doing some of them, the teacher was going to fail her anyway, so why should she try? At least if she put all her efforts into one or two classes with cool teachers, she might pass. It was almost dinner time when her peace was broken without her permission

“Did you understand the earth science homework?”

Aubrey looked up, shooting Basil a derisive look for even bothering to speak. He flinched away from her, but held firm, waiting for an answer. She didn’t even want to bother, but she knew Flora was nearby and probably listening, and she would have questions if Aubrey ignored her grandson, or worse, told him to shut up.

“It was easy,” Aubrey tersely replied, putting her anger into her pen. Her words started to come out jagged and uneven, but she didn’t care. It felt good, “It’s just identifying minerals,”

“I don’t get it,” Basil murmured, more to himself than to her. He scratched something out on his worksheet and fisted a hand in his hair, “She explained this over and over, I don’t understand why I don’t get it,”

Aubrey watched the display of his anxiety for a few moments before letting out an exaggerated sigh, letting her head flop back against the chair. It wasn’t even fun to watch him get upset, it just made her feel bad, which only made her angrier. She pushed her chair away from the table, enjoying the loud screech it gave and how uncomfortable it made Basil. Then she stood and walked around the table, leaning over him and getting in his space.

“Which one are you confused on?” She demanded, and he pointed to the question with a shaking finger. She looked at the problem and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t even one of the difficult ones. Their teacher had given them a table of potential minerals and then a series of questions with specific properties. They had to correctly pick which mineral went to which list of properties.

“Okay so you already got half of them, so you just have diamond, muscovite, talc, and gypsum left,” Aubrey stated, going over the options, “The mineral cleaves into thin sheets, has a white streak, and a pearly luster. Which out of those ones has those traits?”

Basil didn’t respond, still shaking from their proximity. He stammered out some unintelligible words, his hands clasping together around his middle. Before he could devolve into an entire anxiety attack, and more importantly before Flora noticed what was going on, Aubrey would have to deal with this

“Would you quit that? I’m not gonna bite,” She barked, and he flinched further away. Great. Aubrey forced herself to take a breath and count to ten, the thing that the annoying school counselor had showed her that almost never worked. Aubrey tried again.

“Okay instead of thinking about it that way. Let’s go with which ones don’t have those features. Does diamond have a streak?”

“No it’s harder than the streak plate,” Basil responded, which was what their teacher had said word for word. Aubrey had started off with a question she knew he would know the answer to, because Mrs. Tommen had made Basil repeat her when she thought he wasn’t paying attention earlier that day.

“So then obviously it can’t be diamond.” Aubrey said, unable to take all of the snottiness in her tone. It had to be good enough, besides he should know it was stupid that he needed help with this.

“The rest have a white streak though,” Basil said after a quick check of his notes, “It could be any of them,”

Aubrey briefly considered banging her head against the wall. Anything to get her away from rocks and this idiot. She walked around to her side of the table and went back to her own work, putting her head close to the paper.

“Look at the rest of the traits. They don’t all have the same traits. Just do it that way, and quit bugging me,” She hissed. Basil wilted, but he focused back on his work.

“Thanks for the help,” It came out quiet and timid, but it was there. Aubrey jerked her head in a nod, and the two of them lapsed back into silent solo work until Aubrey’s mother knocked on the door. She was dressed in a purple dress that had seen better days and came bearing store bought cookies that still had a sale sticker on them. Her hair was done, but flyaways surrounded her head like a dust cloud, and her smile was entirely fake.

Flora came over and greeted Aubrey’s mom with enthusiasm, thanking her for  her generosity and guiding her to the table. They made small talk as Basil and Aubrey gathered their things and Basil set the table. How her mom’s job was going, how was Flora’s health, all the usual things Aubrey couldn’t care less about.

The conversation only got more boring when dinner started. When they had done this in the past, Basil and Aubrey easily entertained one another with jokes and teasing jabs and barely noticed the time passing. Now each minute was an hour and Aubrey had achieved levels of boredom previously never reached. Aubrey caught Basil’s eye and nodded towards the doorway to the bedrooms, hoping he caught her hint.

“Um G-Granny?” Basil stuttered, grabbing her attention, “May Aubrey and I be excused?”

Flora looked at both of their plates and nodded, patting Basil on the arm. They gathered up their plates and put them in the sink. As she was about to finally escape, Aubrey’s mother crooked a finger in her direction. She walked to her mom and was pulled down roughly by the arm. It was nothing like the gentle pats that Flora gave Basil, but a clear warning.

“Behave,” Her mother said in a harsh whisper, and Aubrey gritted her teeth.

She hated that word. She hated her mother. She hated this whole stupid dinner. Aubrey didn’t bother to answer as she pulled away from her mom. Her mom didn’t want an answer, she wanted a doll for a daughter. A pretty perfect doll that made small talk and smiled at jokes that weren’t funny and did whatever she asked. Aubrey stole away from the kitchen table, walking into Basil’s room and shutting the door. She didn’t like spending time with him anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him, but anything was better than being reminded just how much her own mother didn’t like her.

Basil’s room was also in a stasis, unchanged and unevolved from when she last saw it. The only difference was a blooming white orchid, the petals spread around the stem like angel wings. An orchid that was cared for meticulously, surrounded in the dying light of the day with a golden halo. An orchid that stopped Aubrey in her tracks when her eyes landed on it.

Aubrey had only seen orchids like this in one place. She had assumed that the Pastor did it, or some of the church ladies. She knew that the auxiliary had a circulating list of volunteers that went to tend to the graveyard. Aubrey had even considered that the strange man who always seemed to be in the cemetery might put them there next to her.

She knew Hero didn’t visit. He never went anywhere near the church, hadn’t in years. She didn’t know or care what Kel did, and Sunny didn’t even leave the house anymore. Aubrey had thought she was the only one that visited, the last person that even cared. For some reason her brain had completely blocked out the logical idea that Basil, who loved flowers more than anything, would be the one to carefully tend to a difficult to grow bloom.

“You put these by her?” Aubrey asked quietly, tracing a finger over the delicate petals. Neither of them needed Aubrey to say who “her” was, there was only one person left that connected them. Basil nodded, keeping his eyes down and away from his former friend. Aubrey continued to stare down at the flower, her mind racing faster than she could catch up.

“It’s a white egret,” Basil said, sitting on his bed near her and looking at the flower, “It means my thoughts will follow you into your dreams. I thought it was...I thought she might like it,”

She would have. Mari would have thought it was incredibly sweet, and she would have been able to tell Basil so. She wasn’t like Aubrey who spewed hate without a care in the world but who could never manage to say something kind without stuttering. She would have been able to bring them all together so effortlessly, there would have been no issue. None of this would have ever happened in the first place.

Aubrey was adrift, alone in a sea of confusion that sent wave after wave to try and drown her. She wanted to sit on the bed next to Basil, wanted to finally crack open and let everything out. She could trust him to listen, trust him to care. He was the only one besides her who still cared enough to visit. She should do that. That would be good. But she couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Aubrey?” Basil said, hesitant but still reaching out. She pulled away from the orchid, stumbling back and looking around. A thick leather bound book in the middle of his bookshelf caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. She knew this book.

“Aubrey, don’t.” Basil ordered, his words meaning nothing to her. She could hear him say it, she could even be mildly shocked that he even dared to talk to her like that, when he had been so timid before, but none of it really reached her. Aubrey pulled his photo album out from the shelf, holding it in her hands and opening it.

Instead of the soft faded colors of their childhood, there was black. There was black over Sunny’s birthday, black over her pink raincoat. She could barely make out Hero and Kel arm wrestling, and she only knew which pictures were from the beach based on the small bits of yellow that peaked through the marker staining the memory.

He had scribbled over Mari’s picture.

Aubrey had never had an out of body experience like this. She was always solid, always grounded. Even when she had heard what Mari did, there was no part of her that was able to check out of the situation. Now she was high in the sky, somewhere distant and far where she could only watch as her heart was broken all over again.

A rough tug jerked her back into her body. Basil had snatched the album back from her, his eyes wild and blown wide open. She couldn’t even respond, she had no idea what to do first- steal the album back, or kill him.

“Get out!” Basil shrieked, holding the book against his chest and falling to his knees. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hit him, to feel his bones breaking under her fists and hear him crying out in pain. She could hurt him worse than he hurt her, make it so she wasn’t the only one suffering. He did this. He was the one who did this, and she wouldn’t be to blame for that. She wanted to wring his neck, to break down and start sobbing.

She wanted to run.

Aubrey shouted in rage, beyond words and beyond any outward expression of the emotions roiling within. She bodily threw the door open, running past the table and out the door. She heard her mother and Flora calling for her, but she ignored them, slamming the door and continuing to sprint away. She got back to her house in record time, not bothering to close the front door as she climbed up the ladder to her room as quickly as possible.

Aubrey locked the trap door to her room, finally letting out the scream that had been building up within her. No one was there to hear it but her bunny, and she was currently hiding in her hut from Aubrey’s meltdown. Aubrey flung herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows, screaming again. She could hear her mother coming into the house now, screeching in rage at Aubrey’s dramatic exit, catapulting insults left and right about Aubrey. The girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. She would get that album back from Basil, whatever it took to do so, and she would never, never, trust him again.

[retro-scorpio]

The Arcana Meets The Devildom (Part Seven)

The Evolution of MC’s Relationship With The Residents of The House of Lamentation

Author’s Note: Even though the MC described in the following post will be based on myself, I will not be using my actual name, a fictional name, or gendered pronouns for MC at this time. I still want it to be accessible to people, and I feel like giving a name/gendered pronouns to my version of MC will remove a layer of that accessibility. Plus, it will (hopefully) allow people to insert themselves, their version of MC, and/or their OC into this if they so choose. Also, this is going to end up being a long post that uses explicit language, so if that’s not your thing, you can just scroll past this.

Fictional Backstory: Upon dying from the Red Plague, MC finds themselves not in the afterworld that they had familiarized themselves with, but plopped down in the student council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo with only the memories of the faces they left behind in Vesuvia and the knowledge of the magic they learned while they were still ‘”alive”. Once MC passes through the portal to return to the human world after their second stint in the Devildom, they find themselves back in Vesuvia due to Asra raising them from the “dead”. Neither the residents of Vesuvia nor the Devildom know that they’ve dealt with the same MC until after Julian, Asra, and Lucio’s arrival to the Devildom. Let’s just say everyone was in for a treat when their beloved MC strolled into the residence they were visiting and said hello to the Vesuvian person in the room.

Julian: MC’s main lover in Vesuvia. MC actually developed a crush on the plague doctor when they were his apprentice, but due to the relationship they had with Asra at the time, they kept their feelings to themselves. What MC likes the most about Julian (besides his good looks) is his sense of humor, because it shows the full range of his personality: intelligent and witty yet goofy and a little stupid. When it comes to bedroom activities, MC and Julian keep things fresh and exciting. There are times where they’ll do the good ol’ missionary sex, times where Julian will fuck MC silly (usually after an evening show at the community theater in Goldgrave when Julian just has so much adrenaline from acting on stage that he can’t sit still), and times where MC will edge Julian and make him beg for his orgasm. 

Out of the three Vesuvian men, Julian is the most understanding and accepting of MC pursuing other people romantically during their stay in the Devildom. To paraphrase Julian, MC was considered dead in Vesuvia for the three years MC spent in this other world, and his relationship with MC didn’t start until after MC rose from the dead/returned from the Devildom, so he considers it a part of MC’s past that they should not feel ashamed of. MC enjoys the fact that Julian gets on with her Devildom friends/lovers as well as he does for a variety of reasons (as you, the reader, will see unfold in this post and in others).

Lucifer: MC’s main lover in the Devildom. MC developed a crush on the eldest demon brother pretty much the moment they set eyes on him, but unfortunately for MC, Lucifer initially saw them as a weak human exchange student that he was forced to take care of. Lucifer’s impression of MC only worsened when they went up the stairs to the attic, and MC was incredibly heartbroken and pissed when they found out that Lucifer was the one responsible for locking Belphie up in the attic and deceiving the other brothers about Belphie’s whereabouts. These feelings culminate in the underground tomb. MC, incredibly angry at Lucifer and yet (somehow) wanting to gain his approval, wraps Lucifer’s hands around their neck and dares him/gives him permission to kill them as punishment for allowing Luke access to the House of Lamentation and dragging Beel in their shenanigans. 

Initially after this incident, Lucifer and MC wanted very little to do with each other, but as time wore on, they slowly grew closer to one another. MC’s crush on Lucifer resumed, albeit cautiously, and Lucifer started developing feelings of his own towards MC, although he would have never admitted that to himself or anyone else, not even Asmo (who sensed Lucifer’s crush on MC perhaps even before Lucifer himself did). Perhaps Asmo was on to something, because why would Lucifer feel as betrayed as he did when MC told him that they had met Belphegor? Sure, he felt that MC had just put his entire family at risk of experiencing Diavolo’s wrath, which is a decent enough reason to become irate at someone, but there was something else that was feeding into his anger as well, something that was related to love. MC, in a fit of passion and after Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, and Beel entered the room and tried to stop Lucifer from annihilating MC, grabbed a nearby knife and chopped two of their fingers off, staring Lucifer dead in the face and not shedding a single tear (due to adrenaline numbing the pain). 

Once the situation with Belphegor was resolved and the youngest brother was allowed to live with the rest of his family again, Lucifer calls MC into his study and put their fingers back on with some sewing and a bit of magic. Just as MC is about to leave, Lucifer tells MC that he’s sorry. MC, understand that it takes a lot for the Avatar of Pride to apologize, forgives him, and Lucifer thanks them for their forgiveness. This interaction would be the catalyst for their romantic relationship, and they would eventually repeat this exchange when MC is about to kill Lucifer with the Night Dagger.

Lucifer and MC’s romantic relationship is one built on admiration for each other. Get Lucifer drunk on Demonus, and he’ll blab all about how much he adores everything about MC. The pair can usually be found in one of four places at the House: Lucifer’s study, the library, the music room, and Lucifer’s bedroom. The library and music room are safe places for the couple to be discovered in, for they’re either reading (library) or listening to the other play music (music room). Lucifer’s study is a bit of a gamble, for they could either be working on paperwork/schoolwork in each other’s company, or Lucifer could have MC bent over his desk and ramming his dick in and out of them.

As for Lucifer’s bedroom, it’s best for everyone involved if no one disturbs Lucifer and MC. Most of the time, Lucifer uses his bedroom to explore MC’s kinks. About half the time, it gets sexual; the other half is mere discovery of what MC likes and what MC deems as limits. Sometimes, when Lucifer just wants to be close to MC, they will do the good ol’ missionary. MC is one of two people that can get Lucifer to submit to them, and that happens only when the eldest demon brother wants a break from being in charge of everything.

Lucifer was pleased to find out that not only did MC and Julian know each other, but that they started a romantic relationship when MC returned to Vesuvia. Since Julian is (sort of) the Vesuvian version of him, it raises his pride (and ego) to discover that they both fit MC’s type. If MC doesn’t bring the idea up first, he might just suggest bringing Julian into some of their bedroom activities.

Mammon: One of MC’s fuck buddies in the Devildom. Initially, Mammon and MC vehemently hated each other. Mammon thought that MC was a pretentious snob, and MC believed Mammon to be a complete and utter asshole. Whenever they were near each other, they would inevitably butt heads and argue loudly, to the annoyance and shock of everyone else.

One of these arguments occurs in Mammon’s room. Lucifer had sent MC in there to help tutor Mammon, since they were doing well in the classes that Mammon was failing. MC gets frustrated that Mammon isn’t even trying to get the material, and Mammon accuses MC of only helping him in order to stay on Lucifer’s good side. MC lets a compliment slip when they yell at Mammon, “If I didn’t think there was a way for you to wrap your brain around this, I wouldn’t still be here!” Mammon stares at MC as MC processes what they just said, and the pair are so still and quiet that someone could hear a pin drop. Then, as if someone hit the fast forward button, Mammon pounces on MC, and they aggressively make out. Thirty minutes later, both are a naked, sweaty mess on Mammon’s couch, and the room reeks of what they’ve just done. Thank goodness demons can only impregnate when it’s mating season...

When Mammon isn’t fucking the shit out of MC (which is what usually happens when MC and Mammon get together sexually, despite popular belief), the pair is seen tinkering around with Mammon’s car. While MC does still tutor Mammon at times, Mammon’s (finally) at a point where he’s at least passing all of his classes. Mammon sometimes takes MC out with him to his modeling gigs, which has resulted in MC ending up on the cover of a couple magazines.

When Mammon found out about MC’s other life in Vesuvia, he initially got really jealous of Julian, but that feeling quickly got replaced with something else when he found out about the nature of MC and Lucio’s relationship. In his ongoing attempt of earning all the Grimm in the world, Mammon gets the “brilliant” idea to film a really filthy porno starring him, Lucio, and MC (with MC’s consent, of course). Mammon also likes taking naps with MC and Julian for some reason that he still doesn’t quite understand.

Levi: One of MC’s friends in the Devildom that they hooked up with once. Levi hated MC long after the TSL trivia showdown, and MC had no idea why. At first, MC chalked up Levi’s hatred towards them to his feelings about losing to someone he deemed inferior to him, but as time went on and Levi still was acting cold towards them, MC felt that there was something else that was upsetting Levi. As it turns out, it all boiled down to Levi’s sin: envy. Levi was jealous of MC on a multitude of levels. He saw how MC was acing the subjects that he struggled in; he saw how well MC got along with everyone; and he even saw how easy it was for MC to express their feelings for someone. Long story short, Levi felt inadequate against and unworthy of spending time with MC, and he hated both himself and MC for it.

All it took for him to change his mind was an impromptu family gaming night in Levi’s room. The game? DarioKart (the Devildom equivalent of MarioKart). Levi was winning every single race he was in, even against decent racers like MC, Beel, and Lucifer. Asmo, being the Avatar of Lust, was the first to discover that Levi’s skills at DarioKart was causing MC to, shall we say, look at the third-eldest demon brother in a new light. At Asmo’s advice, MC whispered in Levi’s ear that if he won the next race he competed in, they would make this a night to remember. MC gave him a kiss on the cheek, and that was enough motivation for him to destroy his opponents in his next race. With Lucifer (who was in the loop due to Asmo having a quiet conversation with him during the race) and Asmo’s help, Levi and MC were able to have some privacy.

Once everyone’s out of the room, MC moves from their spot on the floor and straddles Levi’s lap, which causes Levi to turn red and begin stuttering. MC moves Levi’s fringe out of his eyes and tells him how hot Levi was, winning so many times. Before Levi can reply, MC leans in and kisses him. Unsurprisingly, Levi’s shy at first, because he’s scared that MC’s going to pull away in disgust or that he’s going to wake up and find out that all of this was a dream; however, when neither one of those things happens, Levi gets more bold as he gains confidence. This slow, sensuous make-out session eventually leads to MC blowing him in his gaming chair, and after that evening Levi starts treating MC nicely (for some totally unknown reason (ha ha)). There is not a second sexual encounter, but Levi’s perfectly content with the one. All he needs MC to do is to hang out with him and watch anime and/or play video games.

Levi was excited when he found out that MC knew Julian and Asra, because that meant that he could invite the three of them to his room and know that they genuinely wanted to be there. Sure, Henry 2.0 is a nice enough friend, but Levi comes to discover that having human friends is just as good as having an animal companion.

Satan: MC’s (kind of) ex-turned-best-friend. MC first had their eyes on Satan when they entered his room for the first time and saw the sheer volume of books he had in his possession. MC’s crush on Satan grew when he was a guest speaker in their curses and hexes class. To put it simply, MC found Satan’s intelligence incredibly sexy. Similarly, when Satan was tasked with proofreading MC’s Devildom Literature essay, he discovered that the quality of writing was as good as his, that the points MC made in the essay were intelligent and pertinent to the topic of their essay, and that they had no grammatical, spelling, or formatting mistakes, he nearly busted a nut right there in the classroom.

MC and Satan’s romantic relationship blossomed after the incident that occurred between MC and Lucifer in the underground tomb, and the pairing was (surprisingly) a healthy one. Satan looked out for MC and defended them whenever Lucifer was criticizing them (both in front of MC and behind their back), and MC helped Satan to not only discover his own identity outside of being Lucifer’s spawn and the Avatar of Wrath, but to accept the parts of him that didn’t fit into either one of those titles. While the sex wasn’t the type to be described in erotica, it was definitely full of love from both parties.

Satan and MC broke up on good terms a couple days after Lucifer mended MC’s hand. Due to the fourth demon brother’s relationship with Asmo, he knew that, even though MC did love Satan and enjoyed being in a romantic relationship with him, their heart truly belonged to Lucifer. While the old Satan would have hated MC (for falling for Lucifer) and Lucifer (for taking MC away from him), the ‘new’ Satan was at peace with the whole thing. If there was anyone that he would want to see MC happy with (that wasn’t him), it was Lucifer. Satan knew that, once the foundation was laid, Lucifer would care for MC just as deeply as he did. Plus, it would be weird for MC to continue dating him when they’re trying to start a relationship with someone who’s technically his dad.

Satan and MC can usually be found in a quiet corner of RAD or the House, studying, reading, writing, and/or debating (depending on the day). They enjoy each other’s company, and they’re able to bond over their love of learning and books. When the demon brothers were under the influence of the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup and MC had to give each of them an order in order to them to snap out of it, MC had Satan kiss them on the cheek, figuring that it was intimate enough to break the spell the syrup had caused without creating an emotional mess.

Satan’s one of the few people in the Devildom that gets along with all three of the Vesuvian men, which is a huge relief for MC. MC finds the notebooks Satan has that document tales that he’s heard Julian, Asra, and Lucio told, and after skimming through the notes that the Avatar of Wrath has written in the margins, MC concludes that Satan has a crush on the three men. With Satan’s permission (for MC would have kept their mouth shut about the whole thing if Satan didn’t want the Vesuvian men to know that he has a crush on them), MC tells Asra, Lucio, and Julian about Satan’s feelings. 

Bonus: Lucio’s the most surprised out of the three of them, for he had no idea that the most quiet demon brother felt that way about him. Unfortunately for Satan, Lucio does not feel the same. Julian’s flattered by Satan’s crush, and unlike Lucio, the plague doctor allows Satan to kiss him. However, once Julian and Satan pull away, Satan realizes that he has more feelings towards the idea of Julian and what Julian represents than Julian himself. And then there’s Asra. If Solomon and Lucio were the first Devildom/Vesuvia pairing to hook up, Asra and Satan are the second (although they might just become the first Devildom/Vesuvian couple). It’s almost like they needed MC’s permission in order to do anything sexual with each other...

Asmo: MC’s friend and the only brother they have not hooked up with. It always amazes people to find out that the Avatar of Lust hasn’t made any actual sexual advances towards MC, but it is indeed the truth. Sure, Asmo may say dirty things to MC, and he has given them a kiss or two on the lips, but he doesn’t feel the need to go further than that. Asmo’s perhaps the most sensitive when it comes to picking up his sin in other people, and so whenever MC feels turned on by something or someone, the fifth-eldest demon brother takes note. 

The main thing that Asmo does for MC, besides inviting them to spa days and fancy events/parties/networking opportunities, is give them advice on their love life. Since MC is so nice to him throughout their Devildom stay, Asmo wants to return the favor, and he loves helping people, especially when it comes to romance. He was the one that got MC and Satan to sit down together and reveal their feelings for each other after the underground tomb incident, and he also acted like a mediator for Lucifer and MC, ultimately encouraging them to get over their nervousness and start going out with each other (once the situation with Belphie was resolved).

Upon finding out that MC knew the Vesuvian men, Asmo had a lot of questions. Is Julian straight? (no) Am I Julian’s type? (I don’t know) Could MC please ask Julian if I’m his type? (couldn’t you ask him yourself?) How about Asra? (he’s definitely not straight) Has MC witnessed the way Asra acts around me? (very flirty) Is he like that with everyone? (no) Does MC think that Asra’s trying to fuck me? (again, why don’t you ask him?) Is Lucio gay? (no, but he isn’t straight, either; not a whole lot of people in Vesuvia are) Does that mean that MC isn’t straight? (that would be correct) What’s the deal between Asra and Julian? (I believe they were lovers while I was here in the Devildom and they thought that I was dead) How was their relationship? (Toxic; Asra took advantage of Julian) Would Asra do that to me? (I don’t think so; he’s in a healthier place mentally) What about Asra and Lucio? (Lucio took Asra’s parents away from him during his dealings with the Devil) Diavolo?! (No, not Diavolo; a Major Arcana called the Devil)

Beel: MC’s friend with eventual benefits. Contrary to the popular belief that Beel is a giant meathead, he’s actually quite smart. Sure, he may not get the best grades in school, but if someone starts a philosophical conversation with him, he’s not only able to follow along but offer intelligent insights of his own. Some of this knowledge is due to the amount of time he spends with Belphie and (by proxy) Satan, but a lot of it is thanks to research he’s managed to do between eating, doing homework, and playing sports/working out. Philosophy interests the Avatar of Gluttony, particularly when it comes to that practiced in the human world. This is what ultimately piques MC’s interest in Beel, although his looks and offers of sharing and trying new food certainly doesn’t ruin things.

For a while, MC and Beel were perfectly content with being friends. But then the second aphrodisiac incident happened. The first was when the brothers ingested the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup; the second (which is this writer’s headcanon) is when MC accidentally drinks one of Asmo’s beverages that happened to have an ingredient that made the average human consumer very, very horny (it was an honest mistake, really; how was MC supposed to know that a Devildom version of their favorite smoothie would have that kind of an effect on them?) Beel was the only one home with MC when the aphrodisiac started to affect them, and so he was the one they had to go to in order to get some kind of relief. And he did exactly that.

You see, another not-so-well-known fact about Beel (unless one happens to asks Asmo about it) is that he loves the taste of cum. It doesn’t matter where it comes from (both from an anatomical and racial (angel/demon/human) standpoint); the moment it hits his tongue, Beel’s going to consume as much of it as he possibly can. To put it simply, the Avatar of Gluttony’s ability to suck dick and eat pussy rivals Asmo (because of his sin) and Lucifer’s (because he’s the eldest). He can go for hours if one allows him to do so. For this reason, MC and Beel’s relationship turns sexual, although there’s a bit of a mental hang up for Beel when it comes to MC reciprocating. It’s not that MC’s not willing to return the favor; Beel just feels like the point of that part of their relationship is for him to give them pleasure.

Outside of the sexual context, Beel and MC can often be found in the twins’ room, the attic, the kitchen, the roof of the House, or RAD’s gym. The roof and gym are the only two places where the two of them can get some alone time, because Belphie frequently tags along when they hang out in the other places; the roof is where a lot of Beel and MC’s conversations about philosophy happen, and the gym is where they work out together (or at least at the same time, as a human is far too weak to do Beel’s workout). They’re not the closest pairing, but both of them like each other nevertheless.

The fact that MC knew the Vesuvian men didn’t quite register in Beel’s brain. Mainly, it didn’t make that much of a difference to him whether MC led two lives or not; he was just happy to be connected with MC. That is, until Julian starts telling him that he should let MC give him a blowjob at least once. The plague doctor doesn’t completely understand that Beel doesn’t feel the need to have MC do that for him. The sixth-born gets plenty of pleasure from MC’s pleasure, and that’s enough for him.

Belphie: MC’s side man. MC was initially hesitant to get close to Belphie after the incident in which he killed (an alternate version of) them, but when they saw that everyone else (minus Beel) was ignoring Belphie’s existence, their pity drove them to have at least one conversation with the Avatar of Sloth. Belphie caught on to MC’s pity pretty quickly during that conversation, but he liked the fact that someone besides his twin gave a shit about him, even if it’s the last person he would have expected to care.

One conversation turned into two, which eventually turned to them meeting in the planetarium at least once a week to look at the stars and talk about all kinds of things. The longer they meet, the more chemistry develops between them; this chemistry culminates one evening when, as MC was talking about an annoying demon in one of their classes, Belphie leans in and kisses them. This leads to a slow, sensuous make-out session that leaves both of them out of breath and a bit dizzy (but in a good way).

Belphie’s sexual nature is subdued but full of passion, and he knows exactly how to make MC melt under his touch pretty much from the get-go. If the walls of the planetarium could talk, it would reveal that MC and Belphie have fucked in just about every corner of the room. Sure, they still talk about life, but a good chuck of their time spent is devoted to sexual activities. One could say that their relationship evolves similarly to that depicted in “Beauty and the Beast”.

Belphie really doesn’t give a shit about MC having another life in Vesuvia, because sometimes it means having extra company (that isn’t Beel). Julian and Asra sometimes join MC and the Avatar of Sloth in the planetarium (99% of the time, it’s to simply talk, but there was an incident when Belphie, Julian, and Asra all took turns making out with MC, which made for a very interesting evening), and Lucio and Belphie’s occasional nap pile finds itself a third member in MC.