#also i did assume when my friend invited me that it was an exhibit about francis bacon the early modern philosopher

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader x San Word Count: 2.5K Genre: Pure Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities

AN: This idea came from writing a short one shot called 4:15 pm so it mentions the events of that but is not strictly related.

Wooyoung has had a brilliant idea but he is yet to actually mention it to anyone other than San.

 Wooyoung had teased you relentlessly about it for almost three weeks before you had lost your cool and snapped at him that he should just ask San to join you then if it was that important to him to watch his best friend fuck you. Funnily enough that seemed to work and he dropped the subject all together for another full month until he began to invite you round for dates when the others were home or when they were likely to be coming home. Teasing you about how he could just leave the door unlocked and call Hongjoong in to let him watch or that he bet you would look so hot with Jongho's cock in your mouth while he fucked you, each time getting you more receptive to his idea of his friends watching you, it started to actually turn you on. He knew you had a tiny bit of an exhibition kink, you never minded if they overheard you, but he never actually let the members see you or even hear you before the time San had discovered you and you had responded to him purposely toying with San more than he had anticipated.

"Woo what movie did you want to watch?" you called from the couch flipping through the streaming service to find something neither of you had watched. You could hear him muttering from the kitchen but you couldn't make out anything he said.

"Woo? Are you even listening to me?" You raised your eyebrows at him and watched him pace another length of the kitchen, phone in his hand "What's wrong?". He stopped to look at you, opening and closing his mouth a few times before huffing and walking over to sit beside you and pull you closer to him, his lips on your temple kissing you lightly.

"I may have done something that you may get mad about but I'm not sure yet, but in my defense it is a brilliant thing" he admitted letting you see how nervous he actually was.

"What have you done?" you asked, dryly knowing it could be anything from buying you a stupidly oversized plushie, a designer bag or ordering pizza. His ability to answer was cut off by a knock on the apartment door making you quickly assume it was probably closer to take out than anything more incorrigible. He let go of you to go answer and came back with a slightly flushed looking San which just confused you.

"Hey Sannie" you smiled furrowing your eyebrows "How are you?"

"I'm good" San nodded looking between you and Wooyoung "Am I early? You said come by at 9 Woo".

"So the thing is..." Wooyoung started his cheeks turning dark pink as he struggled to get the words out making you even more confused "You remember how you.... No um. Give me a second" he turned back to San pushing him into the entrance alcove and out of your line of sight. Although you could hear hushed but slightly frantic whispered bickering between the two of them.

"Man if you haven't asked her we can just make it another time, I'm not going to make her feel like she's being pushed" San muttered sounding worried.

"She will hear you moron" Wooyoung hissed "Also if you're here or not I'm not forcing her you dickhead".

"I didn't say you were I just don't want her feeling pressured that would be shitty" San sighed annoyed.

"Or you could both just talk like normal people since I can hear you both and am so confused right now" You interrupted loudly making them both sheepishly peer around to corner to look at you. "What is going on? Is this some kind of intervention that you two are trying to pull?".

"No, absolutely not" San shook his head innocently even though you were pretty sure he was far from innocent in this whole debacle.

"Then what is going on you're really starting to piss me off" you frowned looking between them and wondering when someone would explain the cryptic shit they were bickering about.

"Shit, baby it's nothing bad I promise" Wooyoung panicked coming back over to the couch with San hot on his heels "You remember when we were at that video shoot and you and I snuck off and..."

"and everyone was looking for you while you were too horny to keep your hands off me and just had to fuck me in an empty office? Yeah I remember I was there" you smirked watching both of their ears turn red and San look up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

"Yeah, do you remember that San found us and what I said?" he continued looking a little braver as you pieced together what he was saying.

"You want to have a threesome" you guessed, stopping him from dragging it out further, a wave of heat rushing straight to your core.

"Well I actually wanted to start off with him but eventually invite the others in too" he smirked watching your eyes widen "not all at once though".

"You want me to have sex with all of your members? all 7 of them?" you swallowed hard your embarrassment now showing as you felt your own cheeks burning at the reaction you were having to the idea of it.

"Yeah maybe? I wanted them to watch me fuck you then I wanted to watch them fuck you" he continued getting bolder with each word his grin getting larger as he saw how well you were responding to the idea.

"So you want to watch me with San?" you repeated, pressing your thighs together slightly to relieve the throb that was beginning to spread from your core. Biting your lip you tore your eyes from your boyfriends to look as his best friend who was trying to remain looking as neutral as possible. "Is that what you want, San?".

"Absolutely" San uttered without thinking, only to slap his hand over his mouth cutely after realizing what he had done, making you smile shyly at him.

"You going to keep being shy or are you going to kiss her?" Wooyoung teased his friend, his eyes already turning darker as he looked at  you as if you were a meal and he was starving to death.

"She hasn't agreed yet, Woo calm down" San smacked him on the shoulder before moving to sit beside you on the couch "Is this what you want princess?" he asked huskily, his voice getting so much lower than you had ever heard it, it was making your brain short circuit. You licked your lips looking at him for a moment trying to clear the fog that was already in your brain before nodding.

"I need words princess" he smirked, lifting your chin to stare into your eyes looking at you as intensely as Wooyoung had been making you feel a little shy at how wet he was making you without him even touching you.

"Please Sannie" you whispered breathily before San crashed his lips into yours. Kissing San was completely different to kissing Woo. You were so used to Wooyoung's deep, messy and needy kisses that San's sensual lingering ones made you gasp his plush lips were gentle against yours almost tentative as he let you initiate any increase in intensity only taking back control when you let a quiet moan pass into his mouth driving him to pull you into his lap to straddle his hard thighs.

"Didn't expect you to be so desperate to fuck San baby" Woo rasped his voice tight as he watched to make out with his best friend. You whined pressing yourself against the bulge that was growing in San's sweatpants enjoying the pressure against your pussy. “Look how needy you are, like I never take care of you huh?”.

San let his hands map your curves, eventually coming to rest on your arse squeezing it firmly as he encouraged you to grind on him a little bit. You were already feeling more aroused than you had any right to be, making out with your boyfriend's best friend should not get you as impossibly wet as you were but you couldn’t stop the needy gasps and moans leaving your mouth. San planted his feet harder against the floor gripping you tighter as he lifted you, walking you to Wooyoung’s bedroom where he carefully placed you on the bed on your back pressing soft kisses to your jaw and neck before peeling down your sweats to get better access to you.

“Shit” San groaned, his eyes locked on the wetness that had seeped into your underwear staining the white lace and making it virtually see through. Not being able to help yourself you felt yourself preen under the intensity of his stare biting your lip to get him to move back to you. His large hands ghosted up the skin of your thighs passing your hips and continuing up your sides so he could help you out of your shirt before connecting his lips back to yours

“Fuck baby” Woo groaned, smirking at the scene from the door “a few kisses and you turn into a complete whore”.

You opened your mouth to say something but your retort died in your throat and was replaced by a moan and San locked his lips around one of your nippled scraping the lace against your sensitive bud with his teeth, one of your hands flying out to steady yourself and the other grabbing hold of his hair.

“Sannie” you gasped feeling him smile against your breast, he continued covering your body with lingering kisses working his way down to your core, making you sigh and groan while he explored. “Shit Sannie”.

Stopping his mapping of your body he stood to quickly strip himself of his clothes leaving him in boxers that left little to the imagination, his thick cock straining against the fabric making your mouth water.

“Don’t torture the poor slut man” Woo ordered his voice thick with arousal as he sat at the bottom of the bed his eyes locked on you.

“Yes Sir” San grinned, pulling off his boxers and manhandling you back into his lap, tearing the lace that was left covering you from your hips with one harsh tug.

“Fuck off San I liked that set” Woo grumbled halfheartedly while San stoked his fingers between your folds making you mewl and arch into him searching for more, you couldn’t see your boyfriends face but from the mischievous grin that crossed San’s face and the sound of annoyance that left Wooyoung’s lips San was not meant to be toying with you this much. Sliding two fingers inside you making you whine, San couldn’t help the moan that rumbled through his chest into yours, his finger sliding in so easily that you should have been embarrassed.

“Such a wet little pussy” he whispered kissing your lips again while you fucked yourself on his fingers with an air of desperation, his low chuckled making you want more as he pulled his fingers back out of you with and obscene squelch before shoving them in his mouth.

“Hey!” Woo protested but you couldn’t concentrate on his words you just needed something, anything “We talk about this”

“Sannie, please, need your cock” you murmured weakly, your body burning for him in a way you had never felt.

“Course princess” he smirked, grabbing his length to line himself up with your entrance before letting you sink down on him.

“Such a desperate little whore begging for another man’s cock, you need that much cock that just mine isn’t enough?” Wooyoung grunted making you whimper as you felt your walls stretching around San’s dick until your hips met his. Rolling your hips experimentally you felt like you were being split in half by how much thicker he was than what you were used to, your head fell forward against his shoulder as you let yourself adjust.

“Give the pathetic slut what she wants, San” Woo continued, his voice more strained the longer he watched. Resting his hands on your hips almost gently San helped you begin to grind against him his breathing getting heavier as your confidence grew until you began bouncing on him your tits brushing against his chest with each movement.

“Fuck don’t want to be rough with you” San choked out as he tried to not snap his hips up to meet your pace.

“Please Sannie, I need it, please fuck me, please” you begged your eyes glassy as you met his eyes.

“Begging like a needy whore huh? Is San’s cock that good?” Wooyoung mocked harshly.

“I got you princess” San muttered gently before grabbing your hips bruisingly and snapping his hips up into you sharply making you cry out your head falling back and your mouth open letting him use you like you needed so intensely. San’s lips moved you your neck kissing and nibbling your sensitive skin as he pounded you into a pleasurable oblivion

“Aww is my little baby drunk on cock?” Wooyoung asked sweetly moving to claim your lips after not touching you for so long, lolling your head to the side you could see he hadn’t been able to control himself his cock out of his pants as his tugged at it in time with San’s thrusts and he fucked you. “Let him fuck you full yeah baby? You gonna let another man fill you with his cum? Let him breed you in front of me?”. The moan that fell from your lips was pornographic as another wave of arousal began soaking San’s length and practically dripping onto his balls.

“Fuck Woo she loved that” San grunted feeling your walls begin to flutter around him as your orgasm drew nearer.

“You going to let San claim you baby? Gonna let him knock you up like a little needy whore” Wooyoung knew you were close from the little gasps that you let out between your moans, each one getting shorter until you would explode.

“Ah…ngh…Sannie” you cried as you came so hard you could barely keep yourself upright, San moving one hand to hold you against him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasim and into the start of your next one.

“Fuck princess” he grunted roughly his cock stiffening inside you before painting your walls with thick ropes of his seed. His hips slowed until you were both still you resting against his bare chest both panting for air.

That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” Wooyoung swallowed hard while San moved you so you could at least see your boyfriend who had managed to finish all on his own “Never cum untouched before”. You could feel San breathlessly chuckle as you realized that you were still connected, his dick softening inside your walls.

“That was....fuck” San mumbled, still not attempting to move you off of him.

“We are doing this again” Woo grinned, moving so he could watch San’s seed drip from your stretched entrance before eventually helping to move you onto the bed so they could clean you up.

AN: Thank you for reading my lovelies. I adore you so much and your likes, reblogs and comments warm my half dead little heart xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold

[yara2001]

Listening to the lives of the past

Last Thursday, we visited the McCord Museum and went through the exhibition of "Indigenous Voices of Today". It was a beautiful place, and it was my first time being in this area. Hence me getting lost at the metro station even though it was only a block away from the museum. Once I got in with my friend, we met with our teacher's replacement (her name is Crystelle). I could tell that she was a deeply caring person and so I warmed up to her instantly. Our guide was the same...towards his job that is, everything he'd say was with such passion and understanding and made the subject that much more interesting to learn about. I was able to learn the ways and resources the Indigenous used to survive the harsh winters like carving special glasses out of bone or wood in order the deflect the rays being reflected by the snow, making jacket with hats big enough to fit a mother and it's up to 4-year-old baby and even how the fabricate a kayak and snow rackets. I was also made aware of their profound respect towards animals and how the hunt them (asking the gods permission to go hunting, not hunting during mating season or the mothers...). I always found myself in awe at how much of the Indigenous people's culture I had assumed was fictional. After the exhibition, we were asked to suggest ways in which we could be more aware of the Indigenous in our everyday life. We were given many options to choose from, and knowing my love for languages, I chose to learn at least a handful of words in their native language. But after it was over, I still wanted to know if there was a way that I could connect with them directly and be able to learn even more. So, I asked our guide, and he informed me of a festival called "Pow-wow" in Manawan every first weekend of July where tourists are invited (because in some other it's not recommended that someone unrelated comes to participate). And trust me when I googled it at home, it did not look like something anyone would want to miss.

[skylarmoon71]

Lance Sweets (Bones) - Crossover AU - Chapter 8

“A cousin?”

“Yes, his name is Hal Jordan. We’re not biologically related, but he’s always been around. My parents were pretty old when they adopted me. So they were always trying to get me to know all the relatives. Hal’s a bit of a smartass, but he’s kind. He just tries to cover it up sometimes.”

“Are you sure I should be here? It sounds like a family meeting. I feel like I’m intruding.”

“You’re not. You’re my friend. Also he’s bringing his girlfriend so I sort of wanted another pair of eyes so we can feel her out. He’s not the best judge when it comes to relationships.”

“I’m an archaeological scientist, unless she’s an ancient bowl or exhibit I don’t think I’d be much help feeling anything out.”

“Just bear with me.”

When he invited you for dinner randomly you should have suspected something. He was overly enthusiastic about it when he made the proposition. You just assumed he wanted to discuss more about the meteors. But it’s clear that you’d walked into a trap.

His doorbell rings and he springs to his feet.

“I’ll get it!”

“You are the owner of the house.”

Your sarcastic remark causes him to send a look as he heads for the door. You just sit on the couch, waiting for this to unravel because of Sweets insistence on meddling.

“Hal, it’s been so long.”

You hear the greetings at the door and laughter from who you assume to be Hal Jordan and his girlfriend.

Sweets guide them into the living room and you stand.

“Oh, who is this, a girlfriend?”

Sweets laughs.

“No, she's my friend. She works at the Jeffersonian. Dr. (L/N).”

They both send you smiles as they introduce themselves.

“Carol Ferris, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, and you must be Hal Jordan. Sweets is very fond of you. It’s why he set up this dinner to interrogate your girlfriend because he claims you have poor judgment.”

“(Y/N)!!”

Hal laughs and so does Carol. Sweets looks flustered, maybe a bit guilty.

“I’m sorry.”

Hal shakes his head.

“No worries, I appreciate it. I like her.” 

Hal holds out his hand for you to shake, and you reach for it, but the ring catches your attention. You freeze, the smile dropping from your face.

“Lantern..”

Sweets tilts his head.

“What?

Your face turns stone cold as you push Sweets behind you.

“Where did you get that ring!!”

Hal does the same with Carol when he notices the hostility.

“(Y/N) calm down, why are you getting so mad?”

“He has a green lantern ring. But it’s impossible. He must have stolen it!”

“I didn’t steal anything, how do you know about the lanterns?”

You clench your jaw, raising your fist.

It’s almost instinct, his suit seems to appear and Sweets takes a step back at the emerald glow that fills the room. You’re in awe. Because he should not be able to draw its power.

“Impossible…y-you’re human…”

You’re still trying to grasp what’s going on.

Hal looks just as unnerved as you.

“How do you know about the lanterns?”

“Because I’m an alien.”

“(Y/N)!!!”

“What, we all saw him summon the suit. What is the use of hiding it? He’s a green lantern. This is amazing.”

You look more awed than battle ready and Hal retracts the suit, taking a deep breath.

“We should probably get a drink, this is going to take a while.”

That is surely an understatement.

~~

“So you got the ring from an alien?”

“Yep, a purple one. He was dying. Then this evil fear sucking head tried to kill everyone. It was a whole thing. We got rid of him though, his body got sucked into the sun.”

Carol smacked his arm.

“What? That’s what happened.”

“I’m sure there was a better way of putting that.” She snarks.

“You defeated Parallax?”

“Oh yeah, that was his name.”

You can’t believe it. He’s talking about it as if he carried a dog for a walk or took out the trash.

“You’re amazing..”

Your expression makes Hal grin and he sends a look to Sweets.

“You hear that cuz, I’m amazing. Better watch out. Your girl might fall for me.”

“Not my girlfriend. Right (Y/N)?”

From your dazed expression it’s clear you haven’t heard a thing he just said.

Hal smirks.

“She has a thing for lanterns. It’ll wear off.” Sweets advises.

Carol can’t help but smile. If they were expecting anything tonight, it wasn’t this.

The rest of the night is much more casual. Despite what Sweets has just learned, he seems closer to his cousin. They're both in the living room fooling around. Sweets keeps asking him to create random objects, and of course like the boys they are, he complies. You’re in the kitchen getting rid of your dishes and grabbing a snack. Carol joins you. Offering a smile.

“So an alien huh.”

“Yes. Fully alien.”

“It’s crazy, you look so normal. I always imagined the traditional beady eyes, round head.”

“Humans aren’t exactly known for their accuracy when it comes to history or science.”

“You’re right, a few decades ago people thought the earth was flat.”

“People still think that.” You comment.

“Point proven.”

She giggles.

“I think it’s amazing that you’ve managed to have a life here. To find someone you trust. A secret like that can’t be easy living with. Everyday I look at Hal and I wonder how he does it.”

You can understand that.

“He is extraordinary. He’s the first human that I’ve heard about becoming a lantern. Humans truly are amazing beings.”

She smiles.

“Is there a particular one you think that is a little more than amazing?” She nudges your arm.

“Someone in particular..”

Your thoughts stray to Sweets, and you find yourself smiling.

“I suppose so.”

You don’t state who it is.

Carol doesn't need you to confirm, she already knows. 

[puckgoodfaggot]

went to a really cool exhibit of francis bacon's art yesterday and i want to like, reblog a bunch of it here but the notion of trying to write descriptions of his like, fucked up creatures? i wouldnt know how to do it in a way that felt sufficient

[jihyuncompass]

A Birthday Visit

Well well well would you look at that. My very first Tears of Themis fic is for Marius’s birthday who could have guessed (anyone who knows me) Happy Birthday Marius, I can’t wait to see you again <3

For future reference, this fic was written for Marius’s 2021 birthday. As of yet Tears of Themis has not been released for the English audiences. I have played the beta but there is a chance Marius will be a little out of character as a result of the timing. 

Summary: You visit Marius’s work to celebrate his birthday with him, even if he’s a little busy 

Marius x MC

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: N/A

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

The PAX building was an intimidating one. That thought always came into your mind when you approached it. While the Law Firm was also one of the large skyscrapers that made up the Stellis skyline, the PAX building was taller, and quite the intimidating addition to said skyline. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d been here, far from it, but it was rare for you to go into PAX for a non professional reason, or without being explicitly invited by Marius. You looked up at the building, even without meaning to your eyes focused on the window you knew belonged to Marius’s office. There was a good chance he was in there right now. 

Adjusting your bag over your shoulder you walked through the doors and into the bustling first floor.  

You walked through the groups of professionally dressed employees standing to chat idly, or summarize the recent meetings they had. Or stop to enjoy their coffee for a little while before getting back to work. 

“Welcome to the PAX group.” One of the receptionists started as you walked to the desk. “How can I help you today?” You cleared your throat, speaking as eloquently as you can. 

“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Von Hagen? I’m a friend.” You said to the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. Scrutinizing your appearance.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Hagen doesn’t see anyone without a meeting.” You pressed your lips together, 

“I can promise you he’s a good friend of mine, it’s his birthday and-” 

“I’m sorry I have no way to verify that you are who you say you are.” The receptionist said. You reviewed your options in your head, clearly she wasn't going to let you go up there on the promise of being a friend. 

After a moment of brainstorming an idea came to you, digging through your bag you showed the receptionist your work ID badge, listing you as a lawyer for the Themis Law Firm. 

“I’m also Mr. Von Hagen’s personal lawyer, he knows who I am.” The receptionist squinted at the ID, hesitant of it’s quality and authenticity. After typing at her computer briefly she sighed and relented. 

“Aright, I do see your name here. I’ll let you up there and I’ll give a call to Mr. Von Hagen’s assistant to let them know you’re here.” You thanked her and hurried to the elevator. The first challenge was dealt with, now it was just time to go through with the rest of the plan.  

You piled into the elevator with a group of suited men heading to what you assumed were their own desks and offices throughout the building, but you’d be one of the only people going as far up, to nearly the top floor where Marius’s office would be found. 

The elevator was nearly empty by the time you made it up, only a few people exiting with you. 

One of Marius’s assistants was waiting for you on the other side of the elevator. They greeted you as you approached them. 

“Good afternoon.” They said. “I’m afraid to say that Mr. Von Hagen has been stuck in meetings all day so I’m not sure if he’ll be able to see you.” 

You pressed your lips together, you should have asked him in advance, he was usually busier than he always let on. 

“Well I just have a couple things I want to show him, I’m happy to wait for when he has a spare moment.” The assistant seemed unsure but shrugged. 

“Very well, I’ll take you to his office, you can wait there. I’ll let him know that you’re there.” You followed the assistant down the long hallway to the office at the end, the largest by far, belonging to Marius. 

The assistant closed the door behind you, the office was neat and tidy as it always was. Although it was Marius’s office, you were always a little disappointed by just how little of Marius seemed to be in the office. The sleek professional furniture, the carefully organized files, cup full of standard ballpoint pens didn’t seem like Marius. The rebellious, creative and playful Marius you knew well and had grown to adore. 

Sitting on the couch in his office you decided to make use of your time by setting the present you’d gotten him out on the table, along with the small cake box. With your job and caseload you hadn’t had the time to make a particularly fancy or intricate cake. But something small the two of you could easily share.  

You hummed to yourself gently as you got everything set up. Your eyes focused on the work in front of you. So much so you didn’t even notice as the office doors opened while your back was turned. 

“So.” A voice said from behind you. The sudden noise startled you, making you jump. Quickly turning around you were face to face with Marius. Dressed with a full suit, although he had that playful gaze he kept around you. Seeing him, your shoulders relaxed, and a smile crossed your face. “I heard you wanted to see me.” 

“I hoped I could catch you for a minute for your birthday.” You explained to him. “I should have asked about your schedule, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy.” Marius shook his head. 

“Nah I’m glad you’re here. It’s a perfect surprise.” Marius looked past you and to the table behind you where everything was set up. His eyes lighting up with that almost childlike excitement he got. However that excitement was quickly clouded. 

You frowned. “You don’t have a lot of time huh?”

Marius hesitated to answer you. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have a meeting in a half hour.” 

As you looked from Marius to the table you straighten your back and beamed at him. “Well then let’s make this a fun half hour! Enjoy the time we have.” With this the playfulness returned. The Marius you loved to see. 

Sitting beside one another, you made quick work of slicing the cake into two even slices for the two of you. 

“I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.” You said. “But I have no doubt it tastes good and that’s what matters, doesn't it?” 

“Did you make it?” Marius asked, a brow raised curiously. 

“I did, I’m not a baker though so be warned.” Marius picked up the fork, picking up the perfect bite of cake to get both the cake and the frosting on top. Watching him closely you made note of his reaction. “What do you think?”

Marius nodded. “It’s good, I think I would even say I’m impressed.” You relaxed against the couch. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You said. “I was worried it wasn’t going to be very good.” You took a bite to taste it yourself, the sweetness of the cake hitting your tongue immediately. You’d had better cakes, but still you couldn’t deny the little part of you that was proud of what you’d made. 

Not wanting to waste your time you quickly leaned forward to push some presents closer. This seemed to grab Marius’s attention away from the cake in his hand. He set it down to pick up one of the gifts, looking over the basic wrapping paper. 

“Go ahead.” You encouraged. “Open it up! Take a look.”  Marius stared with the smallest one, quickly tearing off the paper without much thought. He pulled out two tickets, reading the tiny text on them. “They’re for an upcoming art exhibition I read about online, I thought it’d be fun to go together. I don’t know nearly as much about art as you do but maybe you could teach me some stuff.” 

Marius smirked. “I guess I could spare some of my expansive art knowledge to impart some on you.” 

Holding back from rolling your eyes instead you gave him your best genuine smile. “I would love that. I’d love to learn from you.” Marius seemed pleased by this, as evidenced by the redness that quickly started growing on his face. Looking back at the gift he tried to get himself back under control. 

Similar to the first gift Marius tore the wrapping paper off the second one. This one, a hand held sketchbook, bound nicely with a leather cover, his initials MVH put onto the front. A small note you’d written scribbled onto the first page. 

“This is-”

“Well, you’re always working so hard here, or studying hard at university, and I know you would probably much prefer to be in your studio painting. So, that’s a little sketchbook, one you can carry anywhere.” Flipping through the pages, Marius’s expression turned soft, warm, happy, not holding that playful spark. “I know you probably could afford any notebook in the world, but this one is customized just for you, not another one of these exists just like it.” 

The softness in his face stayed even when he looked up at you, even when he looked down again. 

“Thank you, for this.” He held it carefully in his hands, as if he was afraid of damaging it too soon. Before he could even put pencil to paper for the first time. There were still a couple gifts left, but you let him linger on that one. Trying to memorize every single second in your mind. 

The rest of the gifts were more basic things, special sweets, some art supplies you’d seen when you passed by the art store on your way home. Despite how basic many of these smaller gifts were, he never seemed ungrateful, and equally happy to see each one. 

All the presents unwrapped, and cake nearly finished you both sat together happily. Looking at Marius with the initial excitement wearing off you started to see the exhaustion peeking through. The heaviness in his eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff yet slumped. He looked tired, worn out already. 

“Your assistant said you’ve been in meetings all day?” 

Marius rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, PAX has a big thing coming up. I’ve been in meetings since eight. This is the first break I’ve had all day.” As he spoke he loosened his tie, letting it release some of the tension in his shoulders and neck. 

“You look exhausted.” You said. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Have you been resting?” 

Marius’s eyes opened again. “I was at my studio late last night. But I’m fine.” 

You looked more concerned, you doubted he was really resting enough. With everything he did, there was no possible way he was letting himself take breaks. Even on his birthday he seemed to be working full steam ahead. 

“Marius, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Let yourself rest?” Marius looked over at you, as if he was trying to think through it, crunching the numbers in his head. Gently touching his shoulder you turned him to face you, his eyes raised to look at your face. You loosened up his tie some more and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt to let him relax. 

 “Come on.” You said in a soft voice. “Rest for a little bit.” 

He considered this for a little while longer. Then let long a long sigh, he let himself lean forward enough to rest his forehead against your shoulder. Reaching up you rubbed his back, gently massaging to let him relax against you. 

“I can’t rest for long.” Marius muttered. “There’s that meeting-”

“Something is better than nothing.” You reminded him. “How about you lie down? You can rest with me until your meeting.” He was still for a little while longer, then lifted his head long enough to move. 

Marius’s head was laying in your lap. You gently played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. Marius’s eyes slipped closed, his breaths long and even. 

“My meeting-” 

“I’ll get you up when it’s time. Rest right now.” You told him. He sighed and let himself fully rest. 

“Thank you.” He muttered. 

“Happy birthday Marius.” You whispered to him. Watching him rest, you couldn’t help but smile. This moment was going to be over sooner than later, soon he’d have to get up and get himself cleaned up, he’d go to that meeting, and then the next one and the next one until he could call it a day. He’ll probably go to his studio again, even if he’s exhausted. He’ll try and get some rest, but eventually he’ll get up and start it all again. 

But right now he’s with you and resting. Enjoying the short break he could afford. Maybe not the best birthday one could have, but one that was more than happy. 

[ameliterature]

Chameron One-Shot Cotinuation of (AnderPerry One shot)

Charlie/AnderPerry POV | Neil/Todd AnderPerry POV

Cameron wasn't a jealous type of guy, he just wasn't. Well- not until he heard Charlie call Todd 'cute'.

He wasn't particularly interested in Charlie or anything, but he did like the fact he initiated Study groups. He didn’t expect Charlie to be the type to like studying, let alone invite him to these kinds of things.

One of the study group nights, Charlie was absentmindedly staring at his work while Cameron was discussing trigonometry with Neil.

Among all the people in the group, Cameron felt he was closest to Neil, being in close academic ranks and attending nearly the same model-student activities. For the many similarities he had with Neil, he found it odd that he was friends with someone as spontaneous and unruly as Charlie. Cameron had to get used to Charlie constantly asking for help with his homework, from Neil or from Meeks, but rarely ever from him. (Never actually).

Sometimes, Cameron could tell if Charlie was listening in to his conversations with Neil, so he'd project his voice just a little louder to lend his friend a hand. Maybe he'd ask for his help eventually.

Tonight was no different, Charlie was just tapping his pencil on his notebook so Cameron did as he usually does with Neil.

"Hey Todd," Cameron hears Charlie beckon; he doesn't look up, but he suddenly stops talking about trigonometry for a moment.

"Mind helping me out with a poem too?"

Cameron doesn't know what this feeling was, the pit in his stomach forming. At wasn't anger, but it felt like it, it wasn't sadness, but it felt like it, it wasn't betrayal, but it felt like it. It just felt bitter.

It's not like Cameron's been hoping to help Charlie anyway, but he didn't expect Todd, of all people, to be Charlie's new choice. He's known Charlie longer and has exhibited way more academic aptitude that him; Why was Charlie asking Todd for help?

Cameron resumed math with Neil, who also seemed more silent- the same kind of silent he was.

"S-So... We'll use cosine to get X--" "Right, cosine-"

Cameron ignored the weird pang in his chest the whole evening, even taking an extra detour to the bathroom before dinner to clear his mind. But when he arrived at their table in the dining hall, he sees his spot beside Todd taken by Charlie.

Cameron takes a seat beside Neil. By the way Neil was slouching forward and gripping his spoon, Cameron knew better than to talk to him at the moment. When Todd excuses himself from the table, Cameron hones into the conversation Neil and Charlie were having.

"Hey Charlie," Neil says, his voice seeming a bit off. "Why the sudden change of seating arrangement? Thought I was your cute best friend."

"Well, I'm trying to get closer to Todd." Charlie replied and Cameron felt that weird feeling again.

"W-what? Why?" Neil's voice cracks.

"I dunno, he's pretty cute. Don't you agree?" Cameron actually looks up at Charlie, seeing his vivid smirk across his face. For some reason Cameron could taste his own bitter attitude.

"I'm thinking of asking him out soon. No one else seems interested." Charlie seemed to be serious. Cameron could never tell if Charlie was joking or just pulling a stunt, but at this moment, he couldn't be bothered to know the difference. All he knew was that his face was pale and that his heart felt broken.

As Todd returned, Charlie resumed how nice he was to Todd. Both Cameron and Neil were (at least to the rest of the poets ; sans Charlie and Todd) visually disinterested with dinner.

Perhaps it was all just his imagination, Cameron thought. These feelings were just an academic kind of jealousy- if anything. He couldn't be jealous about Charlie wanting to date Todd. He wasn't.

That evening, just when Cameron had thought his feelings subsided, Charlie approached him. He was often alone with Charlie anyway, it's not like this night was any different, and yet why did it feel like the air was taken from him when Charlie spoke to him softly.

"Hey Cam," Charlie was weirdly fond of nicknames, and Cameron was happy he wasn't excluded from this. "Mind if you leave the room for a bit? I'm gonna need some alone time with Todd."

"Wh-what? I mean- what for?" Cameron adjusts how he sat, just turning to Charlie by an inch.

"Just- I just need to focus on my homework with Todd." Charlie vaguely answers. Cameron was never good at trying to prevent someone from studying, so he went along with it. He went along with it even if Charlie's excited expression pained him.

With his notebook and a few text books, he decided to head over to Meeks' room, which was conveniently where Pitts and Neil were also hanging out in.

"Hey, what's up?" Pitts greeted, fiddling with coils and pliers.

"Do you guys mind if I hang out here? I'm just gonna do my reviewers for a bit."

"Sure, no problem." Meeks nods, still measuring out some amount of wires.

"Wait, how come you're not studying in your room?" Neil questioned, Cameron notes his expression properly this time. Neil was feeling the same thing as he was. Unlike Cameron, Neil would do something about his feelings, he'd probably march all the way to their room and tell Charlie off.

That's what Cameron realized- what the difference between him and Neil were, Neil wasn't scared of being friends with someone like Charlie. To be close enough to a flame and to know how to put it out when it became dangerous. Cameron was denying himself of that capability.

Cameron was too rigid and stuck to his own ways to be true to himself when he was with Charlie. Even when these coiled up feelings in his guts, Cameron was also lying to himself. He wanted to be friends with Charlie--well... at least that's as far as he could fathom their relationship to be.

"Charlie... he wanted to focus on his homework with Todd... Alone." Cameron's words were like a signal to Neil, telling him what he's too afraid to do.

Neil stood up, hastily leaving the room. The 3 boys remained in silence. "So-- Need help with your homework?" Meeks asked, helping Pitts screw in a part of their improved radio. Cameron sighed to himself, taking Neil's spot.

Strangely enough, Neil never returned to the group. Cameron assumed that maybe he resigned to his room, probably to sulk-- No, that's what Cameron would do-- Neil probably did tell Charlie off... So... Where was Neil?

With this thought, Cameron bid his friends a good night before returning to his room. He noticed Neil and Todd's room was closed and his and Charlie's room was open and silent. He still knocks on the open door.

"Yep?" Charlie responds. Cameron slowly enters only to see Charlie very much alone.

"What happened? I thought Todd was gonna study with you." Cameron slid into the room before closing their door.

"Ah, it's fine, seemed like Neil needed more help than me." Charlie was smiling to himself. Cameron, for a small second of seeing that grin, smiled back.

"Oh... right. So.. Can I keep studying here?"

"Yeah sure." Charlie nods, seemingly in a good mood.

Cameron took his spot at his desk, feeling his guts uncoil from relief. It was a weird feeling that passed through his body, like a cleanse that manifested the moment Charlie and him were alone.

"Hey Cam," Charlie called out to him again. It sounded like a sweet hum to him. "Could you help me out with my poem instead?"

"...Sure, no problem."

Cameron wasn't a jealous type of guy before he met Charlie. He wasn't a lot of things before he met Charlie. But ever since he's been roommates with him, all he's felt was him.

[simplysummers]

Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship: pt 4.

Hi everybody. My biggest apologies for the delay on this series over the past two weeks, I’ve had a lot of medical issues going on, alongside a big decision in my life I had to make before the end of September taking precedence. However, with a little more time on my hands and a new team of proof readers behind me, I’m hoping to be back on track soon enough! I hope you enjoy my analysis of ‘Cornered’, and please always feel free to reply/reblog/send an ask with your opinions and discussions! I love to hear and reply to them! 💛

(Pasted paragraphs: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @very-depressing-waffel 💛)

Cornered: S1/E4

Although minimal, I absolutely love the small interaction between these two in the opening scene of this episode. While it would make sense for Hunter to take the chair, as he is navigating co-ordinates, instead he allows Omega to sit down and rest, the pure affection between them is particularly radiant in these moments. I’d also like to note that it is Hunter’s order to originally send them to Idaflor, where we can only assume he is heeding Cut’s previous advice given on the subject of ‘disappearing to start a new life’. By connotation, this essentially means Hunter was extremely ready to settle down with his brothers and both raise and protect his newly found little one. However this clearly becomes an evident concern of Hunter’s as Omega begins to whine, claiming she desperately wants to explore the galaxy instead of hiding away on an uninhabited planet. Although appreciating her enthusiasm, he insists they cannot risk it, not right now, showing he has all further plans to take her to see the universe whenever it may be safe to do so. Her safety has become his priority.

Also, another little mimic on Omega’s part is mentioned after Tech’s evaluates their situation- “Well, Pantora it is.” “Pantora it is :)”. This angel, she steals my heart.

Moving on slightly to the arrival of Pantora, Hunter’s civvies and Omega carrying his backpack for him, which is as big as her little torso might I add, makes the world spin. Notice too how her eyes never leave him for a moment, it’s a typical child trait when wanting to catch an adult’s attention for good behaviour. After Wrecker mentions the implications of sightseeing, which ultimately peaks Omega’s interest, Hunter is quick to diffuse the situation by insisting this is only a quick supply run. I strongly believe this is because although he intends to take Omega into the city with him, most likely recognising her desperation to explore, his main intention is to keep her safe and protected, I personally spy a compromise here. Finally, regarding this little interaction, when inviting Omega to join them, he calls her ‘Mega, ‘MEGA!!! Hunter is the first member of the batch to nickname her affectionately, and her little excited cheer in response says it all!

When strolling through the busy marketplace, I noticed that alongside drinking up all sights she can set her eyes on, Omega continues to perform the aforementioned ‘smile at parent because I am both well behaved and very excited’ technique, breaking away from her awestruck staring to give Hunter a cute grin, which he affectionately returns under the realisation that her purity and innocence has erupted through something as simple as a marketplace, another endearing trait his charge has displayed. I’d also like to shed light on the protective hand-on-shoulder movement Hunter uses after the squad of troopers pass by him, Omega, and Echo. His wary stare and protectiveness is an extreme diversion from his usual headstrong attitude, which we know is correlated to his need to protect his charge. (Hand-on-shoulder, AGAIN. Comforting Dad alert!!)

When offering to trade with the Gran merchant, I noticed that whenever Omega picked up a new item to inspect or show off to Echo, Hunter glances over his shoulder to observe her. I have reason to believe he might not only be watching her explore, but keeping an eye on her after the incident on Cut’s farm. I can practically see Suu’s words of advice ringing in his ears, and he wants to make sure she stays out of trouble. And after she does inevitably knock something over, although he scowls a little in her direction (as any parent would), Hunter swiftly turns his look of annoyance towards the Gran as he begins to scold Omega, once again showing his protectiveness in her regard, and in all honesty, he has every right to respond this way, we’ve already established this salesman is stubborn and conceited.

The entire plot of this episode is centred around Omega’s inevitable separation from Hunter and Echo as she ends up running off to chase a voorpak, who has stolen her new doll. We cannot fault Omega for her behaviour, it was a little juvenile at most, but we must take into account this would be her first time in such a situation, and she has never been taught otherwise. Hunter’s immediate faltering smile as he realises Omega is missing is honestly gut wrenching. He has just received 3,000 credits, a hefty sum for what they’re in need of, and now he’s lost his ward, and the pain and concern is fully mirrored through his halting eyes.

I’m moving ahead slightly to add a little character-action comparison! Now, this may just be me nitpicking, and I mean no hate to Fennec Shand (I actually ADORE her), but did anybody else notice the difference between her hold on Omega and how Hunter holds her? Fennec’s fingers lay beneath the nape of Omega’s neck, almost curling into her tunic’s collar, and so while it may seem protective, it actually holds very possessive and controlling connotations. Whereas when Hunter places a hand to Omega’s shoulder, his fingers are quite loose, and it only ever rests up her upper shoulder, allowing the girl freedom if she so much as wishes it. It’s extremely docile. Furthermore, I wanted to briefly comment on Hunter’s tenderness when retrieving Omega’s new doll, most likely using it to track her recent movement. His hold is very gentle, considering he is now clinging to the last piece of Omega he has contact with, and a noticeable shred of panic holds his upper body rigid for good measure. It’s very nicely animated.

Coming ahead swiftly to the brief ‘positive’ interaction between Omega and Fennec, I haven’t seen this mentioned before but I personally see the discussion concerning the need for protection when travelling the galaxy as a small nod to Omega’s newly found connection to the boys, and Hunter specifically. Omega insists it’s a good thing she has her ‘friends’. Noticeably, she is still very hesitant to label them as her brothers, as she most likely feels excluded to an extent (bearing in mind the boys were raised together with the exclusion of Echo, no matter her previous ties to them, Omega was always going to feel isolated to some extent), but not enough to deny she has an attachment to them, and vice versa. Hunter has already shown on multiple occasions (Kamino, Saleucami, the moon from episode 3) that he would do whatever it takes to protect her, but it’s nice to see Omega’s perspective on the newly found emotions too.

Finally, Hunter is able to catch up to both Omega and Fennec, and the sudden change in his demeanour and her aura of innocence is extremely present here. Hunter drops the worrisome parental act fairly quickly, and it’s replaced with the familiar soldier we all know and recognise, he needs to exhibit such strengths to assert the extent he is willing to go to protect Omega. Equally, upon realising Fennec doesn’t quite have her best interest at heart, Omega wastes no time jumping (recklessly) into action to save both herself and Hunter anymore trouble. Of course, being a weightless little girl, she isn’t able to do much, and Hunter ends up in a physical altercation with Shand, where he actually ends up taking his eyes off the assassin to address Omega directly, insisting she run. This not only shows just how much he cares about her, but how desperate he was to ensure her safety by putting himself at risk by not only getting into a fight, but exposing a vulnerability by taking his eyes off of her. (Her worried little face as she flees too, poor girl 😔)

(This point doesn’t have much to do with the relationship between these two, so feel free to skip over it if you want, but I did want to briefly comment on Omega’s timid exterior as she runs to Wrecker in the maintenance tunnels. It truly helps to perceive her genuine age and immaturity, the way she cowers into his neck and sits in his arms especially.)

After Tech informs Hunter of Omega’s current predicament involving the maintenance tower, it’s easily noticeable that when questioning Tech’s information, his voice mirrors the exact tone and edge it held when berating both the former and Echo after their ship was impounded in Saleucami. To me, this shows a clear connotation between the dire situations, and how quickly Hunter has taken to his new role in Omega’s life, and his job as her primary carer. Not to mention, she is literally hanging mid-traffic lane, and in desperate need of assistance. Alongside this, we see previously in this episode that not only was Hunter worried about attracting unwanted attention, after receiving such a thing and accidentally allowing Omega to hang in the balance (pun unintended), he actually steals somebody’s hoverbike in an attempt to rescue the little one, seeming to not care he is attracting even more unwanted attention. There is no hesitation on his end.

The look of absolutely HORROR that crosses this man’s face as Omega drops from the tower and just about hits the hovertruck below. We haven’t seen a look like that cross Hunter’s features since Crosshair’s ‘betrayal’, another indication to his immense worry for the newest member of his family. Equally, this is mirrored by Omega’s wide eyed, petrified stare as she momentarily watches Fennec shoot straight for Hunter’s bike, realising both she and the closest thing she has to a parent are still in serious peril. We need to take into account that this little girl has never experienced something this grim before, and the internal panic is evident for both herself, and Hunter especially.

This brings us down to the “HUNTER!!” comment from Omega as she dangles from the hovertruck. I personally believe her first initial thoughts were not to warn Hunter of the oncoming Shand, but instead a desperation to cry out for help from her guardian. This escalated as she notices Fennec approaching, and her eyes even widen as she calls out for Hunter to watch out, giving further evidence that her first thoughts might not have correlated to her eventual dialogue. It’s also important to note that despite her incredibly tragic situation, Omega is still much more worried about Hunter’s predicament than her own.

(Slightly unimportant, but I love the way Hunter leans in to take Omega in his arm before Shand knocks him out of the way. It’s very parental.)

I never noticed this before, but as Hunter catches Omega’s hand and hauls her onto the bike, he actually scans her over briefly to check for any injuries, before insisting she hold on tight. Notice how his voice isn’t scolding or harsh, he’s very calm despite the dire situation, doing his best to remain neutral for Omega’s sake, especially considering the day she’s had. It’s also important to note that this is further improvement from the situation on Saleucami, another example of their ever-growing relationship.

The WAVE of relief that rolls from Hunter’s entire demeanour as he places the backpack down in the Marauder cockpit, knowing he can finally rest now that Omega is safe, while simultaneously anticipating the flurry of issues about to storm their already hectic lives with a bounty hunter after the kid. His eyes are exhausted, his shoulders are only slightly slacked to insinuate his rough exterior, and yet he still does his absolute best to comfort Omega as she begins to get upset over the prior events and the unknown future.

And, finally, a small action but important nonetheless. I noticed that Omega’s eyes quiver slightly as she begins to get upset, and in her final moments on screen, they direct towards Hunter. This may seem unimportant, but it provides further evidence to the notion that she seeks him out for protection specifically. She’s upset and frightened, so she looks to him because he protects her. It is set up as if she’s about to toss herself into his arms, because she needs him right now.

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode four of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

Part Two: Cut and Run

Part Three: Replacements

[4kominato]

Part I: The Older Brothers 

Part II: The Younger Brothers

A/N: Hi friends... first of all... if you thought this blog was SFW i apologize, it’s not 😃 im very much a hoe. Second, yes, I’ve been mostly posting drawings, but I also enjoy writing so I’ll be posting these kinds of reactions and scenarios every now and then, mostly for Obey Me and probably Daiya. I’m not taking requests as of now but eventually, I might so stay tuned! I was originally gonna post all together, but it was getting kinda long ;) and also I was just too excited to post after I finished Satan’s LMAO. I finished Belphie but still working on Asmo and Beel so I’ll be posting the younger bros later ^-^

DESCRIPTION: Female MC making the brothers hard for the first time. Assume MC x Demon are in a fairly new relationship. [[NSFW below]]

(Word Count: 511)

It’d been roughly two months since you’d first confessed to the eldest of the demon brothers, Lucifer. The two of you have since, become official, and Lucifer made it very clear to his brothers that you were now his. Considering it was still pretty early in your relationship though, the two of you hadn’t been too intimate yet, but having already been a few months, you felt that it was time for that to change.

The other week, there was a huge sale on Akuzon and you happened to stumble across a good deal on a cute lingerie set. Unable to shake the thought that it’d be a good way to test the waters with your new boyfriend, you went ahead and bought it.

“What brings you here?” Lucifer answered the door shortly after you knocked.

“Can I sleep here tonight? There was a bug in my room,” you lied, looking up at him innocently.

“Oh?” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you, “Shall I go and kill it for you?”

“I mean… I’m already here so there’s no need. Plus I have no idea where it went, it probably crawled somewhere,” you reasoned as you pushed past him and welcomed yourself into his room.

“Well, alright then,” he finally agreed as he shut the door, “And where exactly do you plan to sleep?”

“Um, in your bed… with you,” you smiled pleadingly, hoping he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight.

“And who gave you permission to do that?”

“Hmm… me?”

“I see you’re being bold,” he smirked, stroking his fingers through your hair, “I guess since you’re my girlfriend now, I can’t say no to that suggestion.”

“Yay! I love you,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

“Hey, Luci,” you mumbled into the kiss.

“Hm?” he hummed softly in response.

“Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

Pulling away from him, you took a step back before beginning to unbutton your shirt. About two buttons down, you were stopped by a hand gripping your wrist and you were met with a slightly flushed, wide-eyed Lucifer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked awkwardly whilst trying to still sound stern.

“Showing you the ‘something’ that you agreed I could show you. Do you disagree now?”

“Uh well, not exactly...”

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna do anything. This is just an exhibition,” you teased as you proceeded against the force on your wrist to finish unbuttoning your shirt.

He gulped as you slid the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground, his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red as he drank in the sight of your lace adorned breasts. Smirking to yourself, you reapproached him and slung your arms around his neck, your thigh rubbing up against the bulge forming in his pants.

“Excited are we? I haven’t even shown you the bottom half yet.”

“It’s been a few hundred years, alright… give me a break…”

(Word Count: 500)

Classes at RAD were finally finishing up, and what better way to celebrate than a pool party? Diavolo had planned it, of course, inviting all the demon brothers, the other exchange students, and even their friends from the Celestial Realm.

Over the course of the semester, you took a particular liking to Mammon, and despite him denying it for the longest time, about a week before finals, he finally admitted that he liked you too. You were both looking forward to spending more time together at the pool party and having a good time now that you finally didn’t have to worry about school.

Arriving at the pool, you were immediately met with Diavolo who greeted you and welcomed you to the gathering. You saw that mostly everyone had arrived already and you were probably the last. It didn’t take you too long to spot Mammon’s silver hair and tan skin in the crowd so without hesitation, you started making your way over to him.

“Hi Mammon,” you said shyly, interrupting his conversation with his brothers.

“He- WHOA!” he exclaimed as he turned to look at you, his eyes wide as ever seeing you in your bikini. “Uh… hey guys, excuse me for a sec, would ya?” he said nonchalantly as he stood up and quickly dragged you away to the nearest room he could find.

“Oi! What do ya think you're wearing?!” he blurted pinning you to the door, “Or like… why aren’t you wearing more?”

“It’s a bikini, Mammon, because this is y’know, a pool party…?” you mocked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Grr… pool party my butt, you can’t be goin’ out there in front of all those guys wearin’ that. Especially not around Asmo, he might get all touchy, grabby y'know.”

“What about you? I’m sure you want some touchy, grabby action right now don’t you?” you teased, knowing he was just being jealous and possessive.

“Me?! No way, I ain’t nothing like Asmo, I can definitely control myself around a human.”

“Oh? But I think that predicament in your trunks say otherwise.”

“Oi! W-why’re you lookin’ down there?” he blushed, finally letting go of his grip on you as he turned his body away.

“I was just taking a peak at your body… and then my eyes kinda just… slipped,” you feigned innocence as you walked up to him, your hands stroking over his toned abs as you quickly went in for a kiss.

“You better not tell the others about this…” he said shyly, finally giving in and wrapping his arms around you, his hands going straight to your ass.

“I mean… they probably already have their suspicions considering you dragged me away… alone…”

“WHAT?!”

“Shh! Calm down, babe… if we're already here, we might as well make good use of the situation, right? I know you want to.”

“Uh… I mean… I suppose… but only because we’re already here…” he agreed shyly, his cheeks still flushed as he avoided eye contact with you.

(Word Count: 513)

“Levi…” you whined as you laid sprawled out on his bed, “When are you gonna be done with that game?”

“Hold on… I’m almost done…” he replied, his attention still fixed on his screen.

“That’s what you said thirty minutes ago!?”

“No, I’m serious this time.”

“Ugh…”

Growing impatient, you peeled yourself off his bed and made your way towards him, sitting down right next to him on the sofa, as close as you possibly could. Leaning against him, you turned to look at him, intently gazing at him as he continued to play his game.

“Levi, why are you ignoring me?” you whispered into his ear before pressing soft kisses along his neck, wrapping  your arms around one of his and hugging it close to your body.

“I-I’m not… I’m just trying to finish this up really quick...” he stuttered, still trying his best to concentrate on his game, but now that you were all over him and distracting him, he was failing miserably.

“You are though…” you pouted at him, leaning your head against his when he refused to look at you.

As hard as he tried to ignore it, on top of you leaning on him, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of your boobs pressing against his arm. It was embarrassing for him  to admit it, but in all honesty he had thought of you in ‘that way’ many times before, but never while you were around. After all, you were his girlfriend so he couldn’t really help it, but he didn’t wanna be making advances if you weren’t on the same page as him.

“Babe… are you okay?” you giggled, noticing his face was now as red as a tomato.

“Yeah! I’m perfectly fine!” he lied, biting his lip as he struggled to retain his focus.

You hadn’t really noticed how badly he was doing in his game until suddenly, the words ‘Game Over’ appeared in huge letters on the screen.

“Gah!” he exclaimed as he let his console fall to the ground, his hands immediately going up to cover his face as he threw his head back, “Dammit…”

As your eyes went down from the game console on the ground, then back up to Levi, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks by a noticeable tent in his pants. You could feel your face flush a little at the realization that you must’ve been the cause, but to say it wasn’t a little flattering would’ve been a lie.

“Levi…?” you started, a playful tone in your voice as an uncontrollable smirk spread across your lips. You knew it would embarrass him to point it out, but could you really pass up the opportunity to have a little fun with him? “Could this be why you lost your game?” you giggled as you gently poked at his bulge.

“EEK!” he squealed as he scrambled to find something to cover himself, avoiding eye contact with you once he did, “I-it was all your fault…”

“Oh was it? I’m sorry, Levi… want me to fix it?”

“F-fix it...??!”

“Mhm.”

*nose bleed, hyperventilates, dies*

(Word Count: 508)

“Satan,” you called softly, finding him sitting on one of the sofas in the library reading a book.

“Oh, hi,” he greeted with a smile, gesturing for you to sit with him, “How’d you know I was here?”

“Where else? We don’t have classes right now, but you weren’t in your room… I figured you must have your nose in a book though, and what’s the one place full of books besides your room?”

“Ah, I see. So you’re good at logical reasoning.”

“Of course, I learned from the best!” you smiled, nudging him suggestively. “Watcha reading anyways?” you asked before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Just a book about humans… it’s possible that a certain human may have sparked a deeper interest in my knowledge of them…”

“A certain human you say?! Are you talking about… Solomon?”

“Are you really making me state the obvious?” he whined as he shook his head at you.

“Alright fine, I won’t,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “By the end of that book, you’ll probably know more about humans than me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… I was never really a good student...”

“Really? You seem to be doing well in your classes here.”

“Maybe that’s because... I’ve taken a liking to demons.”

“Is that so?” Satan chuckled, putting his book down for a moment to flirt back with you.

“Mhm… or maybe a certain demon,” you smirked as you pressed your lips against his. He didn’t let the kiss last long, smiling at you lovingly as he pulled away and holding his book back up to his face, “Are you gonna let me finish reading now?”

“Hmm… we’ll see…” 

Shifting yourself slightly away from him, you positioned yourself in a way that you could rest your head in his lap. Once you’d made yourself comfortable, you looked up at him, finding that he was already looking at you, his cheeks flushing as he awkwardly broke eye contact with you and reverted his focus back to the book. You giggled at how embarrassed you were making him, continuing to gaze up at him while he read.

“Stop staring at me…” Satan stated as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“I can’t stare at my boyfriend?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“I didn’t necessarily agree to letting you finish your reading.”

“Ergh…” he growled in frustration, thinking he should just try harder to ignore you.

“By the way, your lap is becoming oddly uncomfortable,” you teased, feeling his stiffening bulge pressing up against the back of your head as you continuously squirmed around in his lap.

“Maybe you should stop moving around so much then…”

“Maybe you should stop reading.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally complied, quickly shutting his book and placing it on the small table in front of him, “I suppose the best way to learn about humans is from the humans themselves.”

“Are you suggesting… Solomon should give you a lesson about humans?”

“At this rate, I’ll be giving you a lesson about demons instead.”

[the-muses-are-herd]

Love Scene, 3.

Third love scene featuring one of my OCs, continuing from these, after the cut!

**

FORTUNATO

Love scene: At the book fair.

*

BACKGROUND: Entrance to a park with book-selling stalls.

BGM: Soft ambience.

SFX: Crowds.

NARRATION: You are probably not late, but still your step hurries. There’s a lot of people here and it would be easy to lose sight of each other in this crowd. Luckily, you spot the person you are here to see, right where you agreed to meet.

SPRITE: Fortunato (F), tan lion with black mane. Street clothes. Regular pose.

F: Oh, hello! You’re here early.

NARRATION: You stop to catch your breath.

When you heard there was a book fair this weekend, you figured Shiro would want to go. But he’ll be here later with the others. It was the invitation from Fortunato that made you make up your mind to be here first thing today.

CHOICES:

A. You’re early, too!

B. Thanks for inviting me.

C. I’d never be late for love!

***

IF OPTION C.

SPRITE: Fortunato, blushing.

**

AFTER OR IF OPTIONS A AND B.

SPRITE: Laughing.

F: Hehehe, I guess we’re both excited for this! Do you know… Jerry and Derek will be by later, too. I just wanted to have a look around before all the good stuff was gone and it got too crowded. And then it’s always better with somebody, don’t you think?

BGM: Festival.

SPRITE: Regular.

F: Well, then, let’s go!

NARRATION: Fortunato is methodical, taking a folded map out of his back pocket, showing all the stalls —what kind of books each one has, and in what order you’ll be visiting. There’s even food stalls, bathrooms and benches or other places to sit in, all listed.

BACKGROUND: Stalls, book exhibitions.

NARRATION: You start with the places that always get largest crowds. Books from other worlds, brought by Transients and…

F: And other means. I don’t think it’s too shocking to tell you that there is a huge black market for contraband that comes through the portals. The walls can only hold in so much. Whenever there is a Collision, people are also quick to grab souvenirs…

YOU: I know people who would freak out if they heard such a thing…

SPRITE: Smiling.

F: I suppose when you are young, it’s not always a bad thing to believe in school principles. Then, perhaps we should keep this kind of thing a secret between us, yes? At least for a year or so.

NARRATION: Each stall is a fun surprise on its own. From brand-new editions to secondhand used treasures. You find some curiosities to buy, but it’s Fortunato who gets a huge haul. By the midway point his bag is half-full while yours is barely filled.

Now, it’s the row of self-published comics. Fanmade and others.

??: Hey, Player!! I knew you’d come!!

SPRITES: Licht, Kuniyoshi, Benten. Street clothes, regular.

NARRATION: O yes. You’d heard Kuniyoshi would be distributing his new Doujin here.

F: Friends of yours?

NARRATION: You listen to them praise Kuniyoshis’s self-published ‘Heart of steel, fur white as snow’, about a war hero cat. They seem really into it.

However, your companion does not seem to be all that impressed as he picks up a volume and flips through it.

SPRITE: Serious

F: I don’t know. There is something so off-putting about cute animal characters wearing fascist insignias don’t you think?

NARRATION: Of course it’s used ironically… so you had assumed. Though the three students from the rich district of Roppongi don’t really say so…

In the end you bought a copy out of politeness.

SPRITE: Li Cho, Masanori. Regular.

NARRATION: Other friends and acquaintances prove somewhat pushy as well. Although, buying their chapbooks doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

Finally you both take a seat. You have a soda in your hand, while he opted for a simple water bottle.

SPRITE: Smiling.

F:  Did you enjoy your purchases?

OPTIONS:

A. I’d no idea a book fair would be so fun!

B. I think so, yeah.

C: Not as much as I enjoyed spending time with you!

**

IF C:

SPRITE: Blushing

F: Ah, is that so? I, ah, I enjoy your company, too, heeh…

**

AFTER C OR IF OTHER OPTIONS.

F: Anyhow, I am glad we did this together. I would usually attend these things with my sister, you know.

NARRATION: You wonder for a moment if he’ll muse about his missing twin, forlorn and intrigued…

…but he seems to be resigned.

F: Life is a constant evolution, revolution… Things change. I can tell you had a bit of this, too, learning things about the world that you had not considered before. There is comfort in that, don’t you think? Even though things change maybe change itself is a constant, something we can count on.

NARRATION: You’ll be pondering his words… later. For now you enjoy lunch and the rest of your afternoon together, sitting ever closer…

END.

**

Next: Camazotz.

*

[echo-three-one]

The Bounty Hunter - 3

The abandoned mine was Barkov's consistent trading area for water and Alex decided to give it a visit. What would they discover inside?

Series Masterlist

Part 3

The blistering heat of the sun was already permeating through Alex's clothes. The flannel was admittedly suitable for warm weather, but this kind of intense heat was already too much that he already took off his vest.

Soap was already a few meters ahead of him when he decided to stop and grab his flask of water, gulping it down thirstily as excess drops trickled all over his chin down to his neck until it dried out just by his chest.

"Haaaah. This heat is killing me!" He sighed as the refreshing liquid cooled his system.

"Hey! We're almost there!" Soap waved from afar, his deep tone was barely audible in the vast plains, but Alex kind of got the idea.

"Wait up!" He yelled as he let his horse gallop through the gap between them as Soap stopped for a drink. No wonder Barkov liked the abandoned mine as a pick up point, it was so far from civilization that no one would ever waste their time going there.

"Of all the days we decide to go there, It's gotta be the one with zero clouds." Soap complained as they slowly galloped through the empty field, the only thing present was a few cactuses, tumbleweeds and a small bit of the mine they're supposed to go to.

"Is it that one?" Alex asked, squinting as he was pointing at the little dot over the horizon. Soap nodded and turned to him.

"Aye. Looks a wee bit far, eh? That's the top of the mountain. The entrance is quite near." He assured as his horse neighed and they trotted faster.

"Okay, lead the way then." Alex muttered.

"So, you and Kate?" John asked. Alex found a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he wanted to know what's up but he also doesn't want to hear the news. 

"We uh… " Alex pondered. He was treading on thin ice here, considering John was her childhood and only friend, and him getting in the way between them was getting awkward. However, John's easy denial earlier hinted to the bounty hunter that there was still doubt, hope and lingering feelings. Not that this mattered at the moment, but to piss John off meant losing his guide home.

"... we're figuring things out. Everything happened in a flash. It's not that things could escalate-" Alex muttered only to be met by John's palm.

"Shh.." He whispered as they trotted across the mine entrance. John stepped down from his horse and stared at the horses near the cave.

"We've got company. And it's not good." John immediately stepped back and rode his horse, urging the mammal to move away from the mines as fast as possible.

"Hey hey hey! What's wrong?!" Alex quickly followed as John found himself a hiding spot by the rocks.

"Karim and her partner's in there. Probably mapping out the whole place. I can't afford to be seen helping you out." he whispered as he peeked once more, pulling the horse down within visible range.

"It's a dead end anyway. You can't explore with her around. She'll never let you in." John added. Alex quickly got down his horse and gave John a quick pep talk.

"Look, if Karim claims to be a bounty hunter she'll accept help. Especially that she's after the most notorious of them all. Trust me. Now tie down that horse and guide me within the mines. I'll take care of you when she asks." John looked up and stared at Alex's eyes. He'd been good at detecting liars as some of the bar customers exhibit such tactics to get free drinks, but what Alex was exhibiting was pure genuinity. 

"Fine. I've only been here once. Let's hope nothing has changed since I last got here." He got up and tightened his pants, pulling his horse by the reins and tied it to the fence.

"Got a light?" Alex asked as he pulled a lantern off of his horse's bag, allowing John to spark up his lighter to ignite the flame.

"I'll stay near." He handed the lantern to the bartender as they navigated the dark mines.

Hot dry air encircled the duo as they pressed deeper into the cave. The only sound was their footprints along with the occasional drops of water from the ceiling. So far, the route only offered a straight path, slowly descending into the deeper part of the cave network.

"This is the most absurd place to trade water." Alex muttered, his voice echoed across the tunnel.

"Who's there?!" A distinct female voice with an accent roared, followed by the echoes of what sounded like guns clicking.

"It's me John from the bar!" He yelled, his hands easily raised to surrender despite not seeing Farah or any light source ahead of him.

"What are you doing here?" A male voice followed. Alex raised an eyebrow, questioning the presence of Karim's partner.

"He's taking me on a tour." Alex declared, defending John from the threatening male voice.

"I half expected I'd see you here, Alex." Farah said as she invited them into their location. John led the way to a small opening leading to an open area where light peeked through a huge crack by the mountain, revealing a huge functioning train track with trolleys already ready for the next drop.

"Whoever's dealing with Barkov is ready. These trolleys weren't here yesterday." The male partner informed them as they approached the area to investigate.

"Gaz, this is Alex. He's also after Barkov." Farah introduced as the men had a staring contest which ended with a nod. Gaz and Alex acknowledged the competition and decided that being selfish isn't going to be of any help.

"Nice to meet you." Alex greeted him.

"You too." Gaz replied with his arms crossed.

"Where does it lead?" Alex asked as he kicked the wheels, testing its capability to move.

"Tracks split into two different cave networks. The other one led deeper into the mine while the other one led to the worker's quarters." Gaz informed, pointing to the two entrances not far from the beginning of the tracks.

"We already explored the quarters yesterday and it turned out empty. If you want to see it for yourself, go ahead. We'll be investigating the other route." Gaz and Farah paced to the other entrance leaving Alex and John behind.

"What's your call?" John looked at Alex with an expression of relief, wondering how Farah let this man work with her. 

"Let's check out the quarters." Alex muttered as they made their way to the other side of the fork on the road.

Not too far from the entrance, the track ends on a wall in the middle of a huge room that once housed tired miners. Rusty lockers, broken tables and ripped hammocks surrounded the area as John illuminated it with their lantern.

"I'm no investigator but I see no sense creating train tracks here so close to the start." He muttered, checking out some items sprawled around the room. Alex just stared at the huge wall pondering about John's initial thoughts. Something the two of them noticed upon entry.

"Well, I guess my trail ends here. Let's head home." He muttered, exiting the scene as John quickly followed him back.

"What about the other route?" John asked, catching up to him.

"Not worth checking." He dismissed, silencing the curious man.

"Well, if that's the case then… is it safe to assume you wasted your time here?" John asked.

"Not really. What's important is that they're still using this route this month." Alex mounted on his horse as they both went back to town.

~

"This meal tastes delicious, Kate!" John exclaimed as he chewed happily on his meal. Once they got back, Kate invited them over for lunch, something that the two needed.

Alex eyed Kate and nodded as Kate smiled at the thought of it.

"I haven't prepared a meal for others in quite a while. I'm glad I still had it in me." She shyly commented as the two clearly appreciated her meal.

"So, what did you find out there? Guessing from the pace of your eating, you had a tough time?" She asked.

"Well the weather was particularly hot today, so that basically burned us out." Alex replied, downing a glass of water.

"Did Isabelle treat you well?" She asked with a smile. Alex could clearly see something forming once again between them and he was truly convinced that this was more than just basic attraction.

"Yeah. She's a good horse. Never made a problem for me." Alex chuckled as Kate hovered her hand against his.

"Good." she smiled as their eyes met. He was slightly worried that John would feel odd about this, but he trusted his words were genuine. His words saying that he could never go to her as more than a friend.

"Thanks for lunch, Kate. Delicious as always. I've got to get some sleep now. I've been awake for almost a whole day." he chuckled as he grabbed his hat and left the kitchen, leaving the two alone.

"So… what's next for the cowboy?" She purred, as her hands tightened against his. Alex quickly reciprocated as their hands intertwined with one another.

"A bath and a nap… and maybe something along the way?" he raised an eyebrow as a wide suggestive grin flashed on his face.

"I like how you think." She smiled as she slowly straddled on his lap and reached out for a kiss.

The rest of the day went by and by the time Alex woke up, it was already midnight. Kate was sound asleep beside him and a quick peek at the window revealed to him a person guarding the tower. He thought about the abandoned mine, the night raids and Barkov. Something didn't make any sense. A town raid where nothing gets stolen. And these townspeople just let this thing happen? It just didn't make sense.

So, he dressed up and went to the most sensible place to ponder.

"Welcome to the Saloon 141. Can I get you anything?" Soap greeted as Alex pushed the double doors and sat on the bar.

"The usual." He muttered as Soap expertly brewed his drink and set it in front of him.

"Barkov's resupply is almost near. Any final preparations?" Soap whispered as Alex gulped a shot and asked for another.

"I have a feeling he won't do it this time. The mine looked like a trap." He muttered as Soap frowned.

"You think Barkov knew?" His voice was shaky. No doubt he was afraid that somehow Barkov would track him down.

"One way or another, yeah." 

"What about Farah and Gaz? Why didn't you warn them?" 

"They knew it. That's why they let us in. The only thing they can do there is look for evidence." he muttered as he downed another shot.

"So the elusive one escaped again…" he sighed. 

"I've had enough of these raids man, I just wanted to sleep peacefully." John added, groaning in frustration.

"Speaking of raids… when was the last?" Alex asked.

"A few months ago… The sheriff actually captured one of the members. They're from another town. The captured man was promised protection if he joined the cause." 

"And I assume that cause is unknown." 

"Aye. Sheriff Price tried everything to let the guy talk but this one was a blind follower. He had nowhere to go, that's why he joined. It's some sort of cult thing." 

"A raid without anything stolen…" Alex scratched his chin.

"Maybe they're stealing people? Because we hide when they arrive, so they have no one to steal?" Soap suggested. It made sense, maybe the raids are just ways to recruit people to join a cause. That's one way to recruit, by force. Especially when you have no resources like money to make them commit.

"That's a good idea." Alex said as he placed his payment and bid his bartender friend goodbye.

~

As soon as the sun rose up, the whole town was greeted by a corpse sprawled in the middle of the road. As soon as Alex got there, the Sheriff had already investigated the scene and held John for an interview.

Rumors quickly spread that this was John's friend from another town, the one that works for someone that deals water to Barkov. The murmurs also revealed a note drawn in blood saying "Not today, Bounty Hunter." Which the whole town assumed to be Farah and Gaz.

They left them alone back on the mines yesterday and he hadn't heard from them since. He quickly dashed back to his inn and asked Kate for permission to borrow her horse.

"Kate, can I borrow Isabelle for a while?" He quickly got up to Kate, who was already dressed and carrying a bag.

"Are you going to the mines? I'll come with you." She said. Alex had a lot of questions going on in his mind but the urgency of the matter made him dismiss it.

"Okay. But-" He asked.

"Sheriff Price radioed me. Farah and Gaz might be in danger."

Part 3 - The Mines, Gaz and Barkov's message

[cafedanslanuit]

Mysme, Jumin x MC with 38 28 and 26? From the songs lyric please? Congrats!!

Hiii! I only use one song per request, so I decided to go with #38~ Hope you like it, I could see myself writing about this scenario again <3

series: 500 followers event

pairing: Jumin x MC [Mystic Messenger]

song: Crowded Room - Selena Gomez

Baby, it’s just me and you, just us two, even in a crowded room, baby it’s just me and you

Being a heiress in Korea was tiring. Once MC turned eighteen, her mother started introducing her to other wealthy young man, whose families owned companies that could benefits hers. Even if at first she hadn't been in board with the idea of her mother choosing her husband, a vain hope of actually falling in love with one of those men crossed her mind, so she agreed to the first date.

The blonde young man had been a true gentleman, paying for dinner and holding her chair for her. She went on to a second and third date with him where she only managed to fall even deeper for him. Maybe her mother was right, maybe she knew what was best for her.

A few weeks later, while on a drive, she lowered the car windows and managed to see him getting out from a motel. He was alone, but MC knew there was no way he was by himself in a motel room. That same night, she confronted him. Instead of denying it, he agreed he actually had a girlfriend that he met regularly. While he apologized for letting himself be seen getting out of that place and promised be would be more careful the next time.

That was the first time MC got her heart broken.

She gave it two more tries. Third time's the charm, she repeated herself. But between the automobile company heir who pulled her arm harshly just because she refused to go to his place and the heir of an airline company that was gay and needed a cover up, MC decided love wasn't made for an heiress and that she would have to settle for a lonely life. She would maybe adopt later in life as she did want to be a mother, but she got tired of finding decent men in her social circle. MC once thought about going to a bar and meeting someone normal, but the warning her mother gave her about normal people taking advantage of her money and social position scared her off.

She was twenty three the last time she got her heart broken. It had been six years since then and she had refused to date again. Her mother had protested at first, but after all those years, she had finally accepted her daughter wasn't getting married at all.

"Men don't like powerful women. They react better to a wife than a heiress that rules her own company" she had reminded MC.

"Well, I'll make them respect me" MC had answered.

She was a natural at doing business. MC used the perfect balance between flirty mannerisms and strong arguments to close deals. Knowing it wasn't enough, she studied a MBA which helped her take her family's company to a whole other level.

Even if she had lost all hope in meeting someone, MC loved social gatherings. She used them to meet new business partners, positioning herself and her company as a new and interesting investment option. She was an extrovert by default, so she could always be found laughing or posing for the paparazzi as she left the venue for her car.

One night, she was invited to a small event in a penthouse. She knew the owner, as she had done business with him before, so she was happy to attend. She had introduced herself to a good amount of new people and laughed at their jokes, so she felt she had met her goal for the night. Excusing herself, she went to the bar and asked for a drink. As MC waited, she felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, she saw Jihyun Kim smiling softly at her. She hugged him, a a huge smile on her face.

"I hadn't seen you in ages! I think last time I saw you was in this bar mitzvah when we were thirteen" MC remembered, returning to her spot by the bar. Jihyun laughed softly.

"I remember. I stopped going to these events shortly after"

"Yeah, can’t say I’ve seen you in these gatherings recently. Oh, I stopped by your exhibition the other day, actually. I really liked it. Maybe you'll hear from my assistant in regard of buying one of your pictures" she said, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Now you're just flattering me"

"Am not"

"Well then, thank y--- wow" he suddenly set his eyes to the side, focusing on a couple on the other side of the room. "I think my friend needs me".

MC turned around and saw a tall man with dark hair and gray eyes, accompanying an equally tall blonde woman. They looked like one of those rich, successful couples her mother always wanted her to be a part of.

"He seems fine. That's Jumin Han, right?" she asked. Jihyun nodded.

"He's not fine" Jihyun corrected her with a chuckle. "He doesn't really like when women try to seduce him at these events"

"Yeah, I can get that" she agreed with a shrug. The bartender handed her a martini and she thanked him with a smile before taking a sip. "So, you're just going to barge in and rescue him?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Jihyun asked. MC pursed her lips, her mind going through different options.

"Can I try?" she asked.

"I don't think he remembers you. You two didn't really talk back then"

"That just makes it more fun" she grinned as she gave her glass to Jihyun. MC fixed her hair and walked towards Jumin with a slight away on her hips, shoulders back and emanating confidence, just as she had been doing her whole life.

She put her hand softly on Jumin's arm, making him turn and look at her with a questioning look.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry to interrupt but you asked me to remind you about the Mr. Kim's proposal?" she innocently asked. Jumin looked at her confused, so she tilted her head towards Jihyun, who waved at Jumin from the bar. He visibly relaxed. "I'm sure you don't mind I take him away for a second" she smiled at the woman, who looked like she wanted to hit her. MC kept faking her smile, not expecting to enjoy this. She just wanted to have some fun now that she had met with Jihyun after all those years, but it was like she couldn't stop herself anymore. "Thank you for keeping him company" MC added as she linked her arm with Jumin and guided him towards Jihyun.

Once they reached Jihyun, MC let Jumin's arm go and laughed softly. She positioned herself on Jihyun’s right side as Jumin took his left.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but tease her" MC apologized as she let out her hand for Jumin to take. "I'm MC Belmont, from Belmont Enterprises"

"Ah, the ones that have all those clinics and medical equipment, yes. I'm Jumin Han---"

"From C&R, yeah, I know" MC interrupted him with a smile. She shook his hand firmly and then went back to her drink.

"Oh, you know about us then. Did she want to make a deal?" he asked Jihyun.

Before he could reply, MC chided in. "No, I don't really like C&R"

Jumin's neck turned to her direction so fast he was surprised when didn't get whiplash.

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't like its seriousness. We've currently working with a more organic and creative mood to our workplace and I've seen great results. The employees are really happy. I'm not saying C&R is a bad company, I really admire your work; it's clearly distinctive from your father's. I just rather not do business with your company as I can’t see your company working in sync with mine" she explained.

Jumin looked at MC with an arched eyebrow.

"So, which studies have proven your kind of work environment--"

"Mr. Han, please, I'm not here to discuss business" MC excused herself. "But please, have a drink with us. I was just telling Jihyun how it has been ages since I last saw him at one of these events.

It took a while before Jumin could rejoin the conversation. He ordered a glass of wine and then listened to their friend’s conversation with MC. While he did his best to not let his mind wander, he couldn't stop thinking about what MC had said. While he knew other companies made their employees wear casual clothes, had tennis tables, and all that jazz, he had always avoided that line of thought. He thought it was nothing but an excuse to slack off. He clearly must have been misguided, because in front of her was this woman, who he had seen in events before, and she had managed to make her company crawl to the top while using that method.

The waiter gave him his drink and he took a sip. Impressive.

"Also, let me say sorry again for introducing myself that way back there" MC said, making him put his attention on her. "But I know how stressful it can be to deal with people that are on the lookout of relationships and marriages just for the sake of business".

MC pulled out the tip of her tongue, making an disgusted face. Jumin couldn't help but chuckle, finding her facial expression adorable.

"I assume you've had experiences of your own"

"Yes" she sighed, twirling the contents of her glass as she pouted. "It's a cruel world out there, Mr. Han. There is very little hope in finding a suitable partner that doesn't have their eyes on your company"

"Now, that's a very sad way of looking at it, isn't it?" Jihyun commented with a concerned look.

"But she's right" Jumin said, nodding. "You know what I've been through, Jihyun. Also..." he looked at the woman, for the first time taking notice of her pearl necklace. It gave her a nice, classy look. "Jumin is fine" he said.

MC smiled at him, a sharp contrast of the hopeless words that had just fallen from her mouth.

"Thank you, Jumin. You can call me MC as well"

Once they had that exchange, their conversation flowed naturally. They didn't intend to exclude Jihyun, but suddenly it seemed they were the only ones in the penthouse the gathering was at. They shared stories, debated about recent political events and even took part in a little bit of gossip. Jumin couldn't help but be fascinated at how sophisticated that woman looked. She was wearing an off shoulder black dress that made some men turn their heads when they passed by, yet her eyes were fixated on his as he talked. She commented on everything he said, challenged him to find an argument for his opinions and even managed to laugh at one of the jokes he cracked.

After an hour of chatting, Jihyun cleared his throat, making both of them notice how he hadn't been participating before.

"I'm sorry, I got riled up with Jumin's anecdote" MC apologized. Jihyun shook his head with a kind smile.

"It's okay. I'm glad you both get along. I actually should get going, I promised Haneul I wouldn't be home late"

"Haneul?" she asked.

"Jihyun's girlfriend" Jumin clarified. "She's an opera singer". MC opened her mouth in surprise.

"That's amazing! Please, don't let us stop you. Go be with her" she encouraged him.

Jihyun smiled and said his goodbyes. After he left the penthouse, both MC and Jumin kept their eyes on the door in silence, a small smile playing on their lips.

"He seems happy" MC commented, looking at Jumin.

"He is" he agreed. "I don't want to share more than I should, but I'm sure you already know about his ex fiancée"

MC pursed her lips and nodded. She knew about her. Gossips travelled fast in her social circles and even if Jihyun didn't make his presence known in the past years, his father still did, so it was understandable people still talked about him. MC had heard about Jihyun falling into depression after ending his engagement. She didn't know the details but figured they weren't important. She was happy he was feeling better already and had met someone new. It gave her a little bit of hope. That maybe... maybe her love life wasn't doomed at all.

She looked at Jumin from the corner of her eye. It had been years since she had felt a true connection with someone else. Jumin was ravishingly handsome, smart, and had a sense of humour that stroke her as funny. He had made pretty clear he wasn't interested in relationships based on economic interest or deals in between companies. Even if there was a chance he might have been lying, MC would have lied if she didn't slightly hope he was telling the truth.

It would be complicated, that she was sure of. He could be afraid of the same thing, he could think her actions from that night were nothing but an act to get him to trust her. And MC wouldn't blame him. It was sadly natural to get paranoid when you had a background like theirs.

"I should get going too" MC suddenly said. She cursed herself for letting her fears take over her mouth. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay a little longer getting to know him. She would hate herself if Jumin ended under the impression she was only talking to him because he was an acquaintance of Jihyun.

"Sure, then have a g--"

"Wait" MC interrupted him. Taking up courage, she opened her purse and took out one of her contact cards and a pen. She put them on the bar and quickly scribbled down something. Before Jumin could ask, she handed the card to him. "Uhm... this is my personal number. So, if you ever want to talk… you know, anything but business, call me. I... I'd like to talk again".

Jumin looked at her blushed cheeks and her tense position as she held a white card between her fingers. He was surprised to say the least, as he was half expecting her to say goodbye and never look back. He nodded as he took the card and put it in his pocket.

"I will" Jumin said, and he really meant it. MC gave him a final smile before she put her pen back in her purse and turned around to leave.

As he watched her go away, he felt the strangest of feelings on his chest. Is this what Jihyun always talked about? He wasn’t sure. The only thing Jumin Han knew was that he was definitely calling her the next day.

--------

a/n: Did Jumin ever text MC? You can look at MC’s phone here.

[vex-bittys]

Adventures in Baratale: Feelin’ Blue (BONUS chapter)

Baratale AU and characters by staxurst.

WARNING: NSFW (18+ only), language, explicit sexual content, public sex, outdoor sex

----------

As Blue’s official datemate, you had absolutely no complaints about your love life. Blue might very well be the perfect boyfriend, yet you suspected that some of his excessive generosity as a lover stemmed from the way you’d started your relationship. Blue felt guilty about meeting you- and having world-shaking sex with you, multiple times- during a dominant heat, and every action he took as your boyfriend now seemed like an attempt to make up for it.

Blue always listened thoughtfully to the things you told him, and because of his attentiveness, he always took you on the most spectacular dates. At first, he had been tentative in the bedroom, obviously not wanting you to assume that he only wanted you around for sexual reasons. You reassured him enough to discover that, when not fueled by his heat cycle, Blue was the type of skeleton who preferred to focus on his partner’s pleasure. All in all, things were going great...

… except that you often felt like you weren’t contributing much to the relationship. Blue planned and paid for all of the amazing dates. Blue curled your toes in the bedroom and made your throat raw from screaming in pleasure. You just went along with his ideas, and you didn’t enjoy being what amounted to a relationship freeloader. Blue deserved a datemate who could be his equal, especially in the “spoiling your partner” department, so you did what any loving datemate would do.

You devised a clever ruse to lure Blue into a perfect date of your own diabolical creation.

First, you enlisted the help of a friend, swearing them to secrecy. Next, you joined your partner in espionage to choose an outfit suitable for the occasion. You laid the trap for Blue the next time you talked to him.

“I just found out that the National Park has a pair of baby deer who were orphaned. You can actually watch the little fawns being bottle fed at the Visitor Center,” you told Blue, nearly jumping up and down in excitement. Blue watched you with gentle eyelights, smiling at your enthusiasm. He may have been a big, burly skeleton monster, but he adored baby animals. There was no way he could resist your invitation. “Let’s go see them this weekend. Please?”

“OF COURSE, HUMAN. ANYTHING FOR YOU,” the sweet skeleton replied, just as you knew he would.

----------

Walking through the Visitor Center hand-in-hand with Blue almost made you forget that the focus of your plan was showing Blue a good time and eventually seducing him. You ran from display to display, and Blue followed along, laughing at your exuberant antics. You stood together, marveling at an exhibit showing various animal skulls then laughed at each other’s attempts to mimic the bird calls from another exhibit.

A voice over the PA system announced that the twin fawns would be making their appearance in a matter of minutes. Blue feigned helplessness, letting you pull him by the arm to a huge bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a viewing area for the wildlife programs. Blue slipped one strong arm around your waist as you watched the baby deer drinking from bottles held by their handlers. One of the fawns sneezed and sprayed milk onto the person feeding him. The other fawn tugged and chewed at his bottle, impatient to fill his tiny tummy.

You ended up enjoying the date portion of your scheme as much as Blue did. As the handlers led the baby deer back to their enclosure, one of them looked up at you and gave a discreet thumbs up, the signal to initiate phase 2 of the seduce and destroy mission.

“This way,” you called at Blue over your shoulder, heading through the gift shop to a set of double doors that led out to the hiking trails. Standing outside in the summer sunshine, Blue’s eyelights regarded you with uncertainty.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN HIKE COMFORTABLY IN THAT OUTFIT?” he asked. Blue had noticed your oh-so-short skirt; in fact, he’d been ogling it the entire time the pair of you had been in the Visitor Center. Fortunately, Blue cared more about your safety and comfort than about sexy appearances. The big skeleton didn’t want to risk poison ivy, bug bites, or scratches from thorns causing you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm.

“We’re just going to the wildflower field, silly,” you told him, poking him playfully in the tummy. “And don’t act like you don’t like the skirt.”

Blue chuckled, and it sounded like a lion’s purr. “I THINK I MIGHT BE ENJOYING THAT SKIRT A LITTLE TOO MUCH, ACTUALLY. IT’S DIFFICULT TO CONCENTRATE ON OUR DATE WHEN YOU’RE DRESSED IN SOMETHING SO TANTALIZING,” he admitted, and a bright blue blush sprang to life on his cheekbones. Silently, you cheered. Everything was working out just the way you’d imagined it. All you needed to do now was steer Blue towards the wildflower field and its convenient benches.

“This way!” You pointed to a sign at a trailhead. You didn’t need the sign; you’d been to the wildflower field many times before. The trail bordered a huge clearing where a variety of wildflowers grew, a natural display of vibrant rainbow colors. Honey bees swarmed to the field in late spring and early summer, pollinating the flowers and generally ignoring the guests. Sometimes you could even spot large, round bumblebees lazily trundling from flower to flower.

You had chosen this location for its beauty but also because there was only one entry or exit point and plenty of benches tucked away between the few tall trees that flanked the field. You darted over to one of the benches and pulled Blue down beside you. The wildflowers perfumed the air around you in the scent of classic romance, but you weren’t here for austere romantic overtures. You were here for some wild, kinky sex.

“This area sure is secluded,” you said innocently, watching Blue’s reactions out of the corner of your eye.

“IS IT?” Blue asked, catching on to your game immediately.

“Yup, you could do anything you wanted here, and nobody would even see it.”

“ANYTHING, HUH??” Blue’s hand snuck up to cup the back of your head, and he kissed you deeply. Ever the gentleman, Blue assumed that this area was for passionate, but chaste, makeout sessions, and as much as you loved the feel of his mouth and tongue against yours, you wanted more. You wanted to offer him a guilty pleasure that he enjoyed but rarely indulged in- outdoor sex.

Pushing Blue back, you straddled him, pressing your skimpy panties against the rapidly growing bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. His breathing sped up, and his hands slid down to your back, supporting you. Reaching up, you unbuttoned your shirt to show off a bra that matched the panties- skimpy and lacy… and easily shoved down to expose your breasts. You leaned in close to Blue’s ear canal and whispered: “Fuck me.”

The big skeleton didn’t need any encouragement. His hands found your ass and grabbed on tightly, lifting you. You tugged at his waistband, struggling to pull it over his throbbing cock. Blue quickly nudged your panties aside and spread your slick pussy lips with his fingers, his breathing rough and hot against your neck when he felt how wet with arousal you were.

Slowly and gently, Blue lowered you onto his cock, and you guided him inside you, gasping when his thick shaft stretched your pussy wide and slid into you. Blue kissed you again, letting you taste his moans as he began to rock his hips, shallowly thrusting into your tight little hole. Your breasts bounced with every movement, erect nipples brushing the soft fabric of Blue’s shirt.

“CLEVER HUMAN,” Blue murmured, burying his face in the curve of your neck.”EXPLOITING ALL OF MY WEAKNESSES.” 

You opened your mouth to deliver a clever response, but Blue increased the speed and power of his thrusts. His cock slid in and out of your pussy faster and faster as he lifted and lowered you in rhythm with the bucking of his hips. The thick shaft left you overfilled and desperately empty in turns, and each time he buried himself inside of you, he penetrated you so deeply that you wanted to scream with pleasure.

“SHH,” Blue said softly. “IF YOU’RE NOT QUIET, WE’LL BE CAUGHT.”

After he spoke, Blue let his mouth wander up your neck to your jawline, then to your mouth. You opened your mouth to let his tongue in, but he nipped your lip sharply, making you gasp. The sound made his cock twitch inside of you, and you instinctively angled your hips for even deeper penetration. Sweat beaded on Blue’s skull with the intensity of his thrusts, the sensation of dragging his cock along every slick, sensitive inch of your pussy, and the way you tightened around him in response as if your entire body wanted to hold him inside of you.

One of Blue’s hands stayed splayed across your lower back and the other rose to frantically knead at one of your breasts. Your moans mingled in the insignificant amount of space between you. You wanted to throw your head back and be as loud as you could, crying out his praises to the sun and sky, and only pressing your hand over your mouth kept the sounds from spilling out.

Blue raised his eyelights to meet your gaze, staring at you with a mixture of blazing desire and boundless love. “HUMAN,” he groaned, his entire body shuddering, “HUMAN… I’M… I’M SO… CLOSE… I'M GONNA…”

“Cum inside me,” you ordered, the command barely audible but instantly obeyed. His cock slammed into you, and his mouth covered yours to swallow your cries as your pussy swallowed his thick loads of cum. His cock throbbed, pouring more and more of his hot seed into you. Your body shook then stiffened as your own orgasm rocked you. Your fingers dug into Blue’s scapulae; your pussy clamped down on his cock,and a fresh shudder of pleasure rippled through Blue’s huge body.

You fell forward onto Blue’s chest, panting and satisfied, and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head while his cock throbbed, still hilted in your pussy with your arousal and his cum dribbling down onto it. A voice drifted over to you from the trailhead, interrupting your peaceful moment of post-orgasm bliss.

“Welcome to the wildflower field,” your friend bellowed at a volume level that would have been unnecessary unless they knew that a human and her skeleton boyfriend were fornicating on the park benches. “Before you check out the trail, you’ll want to grab one of these pamphlets to help you identify the different types of flowers.”

By the time the bewildered hikers, pamphlets in hand, wandered down the trail to your bench, you and Blue had separated. Blue sat with one leg crossed over the other to hide any telltale dampness on his pants. You were on the other end of the bench, hoping that you’d buttoned your shirt correctly and that nothing incriminating would spill down your legs. Once the hikers passed, you made your escape.

Blue swept you up into his arms, insisting that your legs must be tired from the “hike.” He carried you back to the gift shop and offered to buy you a bottle of water if you needed it. You did, but you insisted on paying for it, though Blue didn’t put you down once during the transaction. You sipped your water, scowling without any real malice behind it.

“It was my turn to arrange a perfect date for you,” you scolded gently. 

Blue’s chest rumbled against your body with another of his deep chuckles. “SILLY, HUMAN. I AM THE REIGNING CHAMPION OF ROMANCE! IT IS MY SWORN DUTY TO PROPERLY COURT YOU!”

You narrowed your eyes in an adorable fake glare. “I’m going to take your title someday,” you warned playfully, shaking a fist at him.

“I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR FUTILE EFFORTS TO USURP ME, HUMAN!”

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[siriusbunbryist]

In defence of Abed x Annie.

Thanks to the magic of Netflix, I’ve rewatched Community at age 24, and still found Abed and Annie to have hit the heartstrings as much as I did when I was in high school watching the show for the first time.

But watching the series in its entirety just reinforces my thought that Abed and Annie had so much potential that was wasted, and it’s a shame that the writers planted all these seeds to only decide that perhaps this direction was not worth it / too risky / unfavoured by the audience. But I mean, Alison Brie herself (and I’m assuming Danny Pudi as well) endorsed them! Find here and here.

This was a pairing that with all the crumbs scattered throughout the show (I think we are all aware of these crumbs I speak of), could’ve easily played the “oh we’ve been secretly dating this whole time” trope during the last episode and it would’ve still made sense.

Naturally I did some scoping, and of course unsurprisingly the J.eff x Annie pairing takes the cake, while not a lot of love for Abed x Annie. So here are common points of contentions I see surrounding Abed and Annie, and my rationale on them.

Before I start, a note - I fully respect the J.eff x Annie ship and I don’t intend on starting a ship w.ar/debate. I understand where their support comes from! I just needed to vent because no one else in my social circle watches this show. No hate please.

1. Abed doesn’t see Annie romantically

I think on the contrary it’s been set up rather long ago that Abed at the very least is attracted to Annie.

Exhibit A: “What are you making” in Beginner Pottery

Exhibit B: “Flat B.utt and the one Abed wants to nail” in The Art of Discourse

This video basically explains it! The summary: Annie is Pierce’s favourite, Pierce constantly insults Britta, therefore Britta is flat b.utt.

Exhibit C: Not even trying to hide it in Accounting for Lawyers

But, a romantic interest has to be further built upon finding someone attractive right? There has to be intrigue to their character, such as

Exhibit D: “I can only connect to people through... movies” in English as a Second Language

It is pretty obvious here that Annie is a rare someone who has successfully broken the impartial screen that Abed filters everything through. Jeff saw it too which is why he said Annie was the ark of the covenant before Abed fell for her disney face. I can only imagine Abed to be quite struck with Annie’s infiltration.

A romantic interest should also share common interests, such as

Exhibit E: “Which makes Annie is my third favourite show” in Paranormal Parentage

I’ve said before that for Abed, a guy who lives life and communicates through comparing it with television and movies, it’s not unthinkable for him to be attracted to someone who genuinely watches his favourite shows and commits to roles during cosplay. And who, besides Troy, would fit this profile? Annie. 

And finally, the biggest indicator of it all, we also see how Abed views the Jeff and Annie pairing in everyone’s favourite episode Remedial Chaos Theory. Keeping in mind that the timelines are rendered by Abed, out of all the timelines, J.eff and Annie only kis.sed when Abed left the room for pizza. As well, as conjured in Abed’s head, Evil Jeff and Evil Annie only existed as a couple in the Darkest Timeline. To me at least, it’s arguable that this alludes to Abed’s omniscient “director” standpoint that he may be the obstacle in the Jeff and Annie relationship - pointing towards him perhaps harbouring feelings for Annie.

2. Annie doesn’t see Abed romantically The general consensus on this point is that Annie is only attracted to Abed when he’s playing a character. I rather think that being attracted to someone, and being attracted to someone during role play, aren’t mutually exclusive. Let’s take a look at the different characters that Abed played.

Don Draper: serious, sophisticated, and smooth.

Han Solo: immature, flirty and a smarta.ss.

Batman: mysterious, complex, and brave.

Three different personas, yet Annie responded to all of them. Since the common denominator to all three is that they are played by Abed, I would like to offer a counterpoint that perhaps the attraction to Abed has always been there, it’s just emphasized when Abed plays a character. Who knows, role playing might even be Annie’s ki.nk. After all, during For a Few Paintballs More, it is shown that Annie is disappointed when Abed dropped the Han Solo persona after the battle ended.

Annie also loves big romantic gestures. Who’s better than doing that than Abed? Since the beginning, Abed has already been doing big romantic gestures of varying degrees for Annie. With this, it’s not ridiculous for Annie to see Abed as a romantic potential.

Exhibit F: Staying in a room for 26 hours in Social Psychology

Annie: You sat in a room for twenty-six straight hours. Didn’t that bother you?  Abed: Yeah I was livid.  Annie: Then why didn’t you leave?  Abed: Because you asked me to stay and you said we were friends.

Exhibit G: Rescuing her from “captivity” and inviting her to move in in Remedial Chaos Theory and Studies in Modern Movement (even Troy was surprised at Abed’s invitation)

Exhibit H: Tearing down the Dreamatorium in Studies in Modern Movement

Annie: What about the Dreamatorium? Abed: Oh it's staying. The Dreamatorium is more important than any of us. But you're more important than our bedroom so we put the bunk bed in the blanket fort.

Bonus: Confirmed by Alison Brie

3. The show was about Jeff and Annie

Dan Harmon said that Community’s approach is that anything and any pairing is possible. We see this is as the series started with the classic “player vs smart snarky girl” trope with setting up Jeff and Britta as the main pairing. We also see Troy and Annie as the potential B couple in the show. The writers also threw Pierce and Shirley, Annie and Britta, Dean and Jeff, and even Chang and Britta in for a laugh.

And then the show subverted this all by introducing Jeff and Annie, and made Troy and Britta a couple, showing us that Community is a show that intends on breaking these classic sitcom stereotypes by experimenting with different pairings. Abed and Annie was no exception to this, as the writers often pair them up in different shenanigans and hint at possible grounds to explore*.

A few examples: Han and Leia in For a Few Paintballs More, Hector the Well Endowed and the Elf Maiden in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, spy partners in Modern Espionage.

No doubt that the show dabbled in and out of Jeff and Annie throughout the series. However, to say that Jeff and Annie was the primary pairing in the series would mean overlooking Jeff and Britta. Especially when Jeff and Britta have the whole love-hate dynamic, three(?) marriage close-calls, and emotional snippets such as helping Jeff reunite with his father in Cooperative Escapism in Familial Relations.

Anyway, not to discredit Jeff and Annie, but knowing that the show explores the possibility of different pairings**, why write off Abed and Annie?

* Not to mention that the cop pairing in The Science of Illusion was originally written with Abed and Annie in mind! ** We also see a stray Abed and Britta during Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps.

4. Annie is in love with Jeff To keep this short and shipper-goggle free, Annie has said on numerous occasions that she’s in love with the idea of Jeff, not Jeff himself. Specifically this scene in Virtual Systems Analysis:

Abed as Annie: "…We love Jeff…" Annie: "No we don’t, we’re just in love with the idea of being loved. And if we can teach a guy like Jeff to do it, we’ll never be unloved, so we keep running the same scenario over and over hoping for a different result."

And this scene in Conventions of Space and Time:

Annie: All right, I may have been play-acting that we were married, and then the staff thought you were cheating, and I had to save face. Jeff: Do I have to worry about this? Annie: No, I was just daydreaming. I mean, I've married you at least a half a dozen times. And Troy. And Zac Efron.

Not to mention that their conversation in the finale says it all.

Jeff: I don't wanna be fine. I wanna be 25 and heading out into the world. I wanna fall asleep on a beach and be able to walk the next day, or stay up all night on accident. I wanna wear a white t-shirt without looking like I forgot to get dressed.* I want to be terrified of AIDS, I want to have an opinion about those, boring a.ss Marvel movies. And I want those opinions to be of any concern to the people making them. Annie: Well I want to live in the same home for more than a year, order wine without feeling nervous, have a resume full of crazy mistakes instead of crazy lies. I want stories and wisdom, perspective. I wanna have so much behind me I'm not a sl.ave to what's in front of me, especially those flavourless unremarkable Marvel movies.

*Shipper-goggle on: Part of me thinks this is a reference to Abed, whose iconic style almost exclusively comprises T-shirts. What Jeff is saying is that he wishes he is 25 again with his future open before him, someone who compatible with Annie, but here he acknowledges that he isn’t, and lets her go in the end.

5. Abed and Annie wouldn’t work as a couple Another point I see is that Abed and Annie are strictly platonic and are more like brother and sister. On the basis that they have made out a couple times and are attracted to each other, I would disagree with the sibling statement.  

Troy, in contrast to Abed, I think actually resembles a more sibling-like relationship with Annie. Although Troy and Annie have the strong friendship of Abed and Annie, when disregarding the high school crush stage of season 1, their storylines never dwelled further down an attraction path, nor was there any specific episode that was dedicated to a deep dive of vulnerabilities and confrontation between them. As a comparison, Troy and Britta had opportunities to explore these setups (Troy admitted to lying about his b.utt stuff story and Troy helped Britta face Blade) - an indication that Troy and Britta were heading into non-platonic territory. Jeff and Britta too, had several opportunities to confront their feelings (up till the very last season), a clear indication of a non-platonic relationship.

For Abed and Annie, what I think pulls their friendship towards actual love interest potential is best pinpointed to Virtual Systems Analysis. Annie’s participation in the Dreamatorium prompted her to not only fully submerge into the way Abed thinks and comprehends his surroundings, but she also got to understand and address Abed’s stubbornness and flaws in a vulnerable way, confronting some of her own flaws as well.

Abed as Shirley: Your hospital school, young lady, is a simulation being run through a filter of other people's needs. Abed's been filtered out because nobody needs him. Annie: I need him!

And to point out this little tidbit in VCR Maintenance and Educational Publishing,

Annie: That's why Abed is like a brother to me. You guys are so alike. Abed: I can't accept that based on one time machine story.

This whole episode, instead of establishing Abed is like Annie’s brother, I would argue is rather doing the opposite. Abed and Annie’s hyper antics in the episode were basically matched by Anthony and Rachel’s blatant indifference and confusion. For lots of Abed and Annie supporters, this episode was a major setback. But I think it instead highlights how in-sync they are with each other, which is a good thing.

Another point, despite Annie trying to prove otherwise, Abed and Anthony had different vibes, and each shared different dynamics with Annie. And as Anthony pointed out in the end, who were Abed and Annie trying to replace in the apartment? Troy. The person who they are trying to fill is Troy - their roommate, their brother, their best friend. Troy was the brother role that neither Abed and Annie can fill for each other.

In Basic Sandwich, we get this exchange:

Abed: The point is, this show, Annie, it isn't just their show. This is our show, and it's not over. And the sooner we find that treasure, the faster the Jeff-Britta pilot falls apart. Annie: Got it. Thank you, Abed. Abed: You're welcome. I have a girlfriend. Annie: What? Abed: You were about to start a kiss lean. Annie: I was not.

Not only did Abed saw right through Annie’s anxiety and comforted her in his own uniquely Abed way, but he also felt the need to remind her of his girlfriend. The fact that he broke the fourth wall here is likely the writers’ way to be meta, but simply acknowledging the tension and bond there says a lot in between the lines. If tension does not exist, there would be no need for this line.

Besides, instead of thinking that they’re strictly platonic (which of course is also okay), they would rather work great as a couple. In terms of opposites attract, Annie grounds Abed with just the right amount, while Abed clearly encourages Annie to be her true self and be immature. Such as this scene in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism,

Annie: I’m following him.  Troy: You moving in here was supposed to tone us down!

Annie also doesn’t just tolerate Abed’s idiosyncrasies, she actually likes them and fully participates as multiple paintball games and cosplays would tell us. Special shoutout to the missing lovers footage in Wedding Videography, which through Britta, actually shows us that Annie is the only one who would go along with Abed’s projects - while Britta found the project extremely weird and unhealthy, Annie thought it was fun and commits well to her role.

And while others may tiptoe around Abed, Annie isn’t afraid to call Abed out when he’s out of line and makes a point to teach him about empathy in Virtual Systems Analysis. Remember that Britta tried teaching him this but it didn’t work as well.

I am Abed Nadir... And I don't know a lot of things everyone else knows. I wander the universe with my friend, Troy, doing whatever I want. Sometimes accidentally hurting innocent unremarkables. This week, however, Troy went to lunch and I adapted. I now have the ability to enter the minds of others using an elusive new technique known as "empathy".

As well as in the entire episode of Cooperative Polygraphy.

They also know each other best. Abed knew her cushion preferences, was the one who spelled out her true pas.sion for forensics, and after living together, Annie knew how to navigate Abed’s peculiarities and to soothe him whenever he had a nervous breakdown. 

Annie also knows him so well that she can predict his reaction.

They are also each other’s exception. Annie was always the one who manages to pull Abed out of a trance and back to reality, usually with touch.

Abed is also very forgiving with her. An example is when Annie seemingly lost all common sense because she broke Abed’s special edition dvd in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.

Annie: Well, Batman, on behalf of all of us that aren't perfect, can I just say I'm sorry I broke your DVD? Abed: Apology accepted. But I wouldn't mention it to Abed. That guy's pretty ruthless. And that's coming from Batman.

And in Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, Annie was the only claymation doll that didn’t have a weird form (except Troy as toy soldier of course). Annie was a ballerina because Abed sees her as a creature of grace. Abed was also the first one who got her “brighter tomorrow” diorama and responded with enthusiasm.

They are also in the same stage in life. As Dan Harmon explains the choice of Abed and Annie being the ones who leave the group, with Troy gone, Abed and Annie symbolize the many possibilities of the future - a possibility that makes them viable. I like to think Annie transfers to the LA FBI office after her internship and they reunite.

And as the Spice Girls said, “if you wanna be my love.r, you gotta get with my friends”. In Paleyfest, Dan Harmon says this about whoever Troy and Abed ends up dating, “I mean a woman that comes into either of their lives is either going to drive them apart or she's going to have to be really accepting of a very special relationship”.

Britta tolerated their friendship but to a point of asking Annie to distract Abed for alone time with Troy, Troy dumped the librarian as she called Abed weird, Robin disappeared, Rachel we never got to see much of, but was pretty quiet and separated from the group. From this, logically speaking, Annie would actually be the perfect match for Abed, as we all know they’re the ultimate trio within the study group and a transition from friends to more will be natural. 

Oh, and, Abed is wrong. They’re not Chandler and Phoebe with little storylines together, they’re Chandler and Monica. 

Anyway, that’s it for my super long rant/analysis. Community the series is done and over, so there isn’t a need for any ship war. All I want to say is, if #andamovie happens, hopefully, the writers will actually take a leap.

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER SIX - mirrorball

previous chapter | next chapter

summary:  dinner’s at rossi’s and dancing in the kitchen, y/n remembers all the times she shone for spencer. 

word count: 1.4k

“i’m a mirrorball, i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight.”

Pouring herself another glass of Rose, she remembered the first night she saw Spencer as more than just a workplace crush. The first night she had felt completely brave, lovesick, and reckless.

She placed Joni Mitchell’s ‘Blue’ album on her record player and let the memories overtake her.

Nerves wracked her body as she stepped out of the taxi outside Rossi’s house. It was her first night out with the BAU team, she’d only joined the team two months ago. In those two months, she had found a close friend in Emily.

Emily practically trained her and was her partner on most cases, she’d shown her the ropes and was always there to talk about each case after they were over. Her job was less daunting with Prentiss by her side and she couldn’t be more grateful for the rest of the team too.

She also found herself harbouring a small crush on the BAU’s local genius, Dr. Spencer Reid. It wasn’t enough that he was incredibly attractive and smart, he also had to be one of the most caring men she’d ever met. It would be easy for anyone to be sweet on him. He was oblivious to her suggestions of grabbing coffee or going to the new exhibit in one of DCs many museums, often inviting JJ or Morgan along.

One time he invited Rossi on their last case. She had never felt more embarrassed when Rossi asked her afterward if she wanted to be alone with him. He reassured her that Spencer felt the same, but she found it hard to believe that the man that avoided her like the plague could ever like her.

So she buried the feelings and carried on. She knew she would never have the confidence to act on them.

Wrapping her arms around herself, each step she took up to the front door was filled with trepidation until she heard a soft voice call out her name.

Spencer.

She spun on her heels to see him dressed in a shirt and suit jacket. He’d cut his hair too. He looked good.

“Doctor Reid! You cut your hair! It suits you.”

Red blush filled his cheeks.

Nervously, he thanked her and offered her his arm. Nodding she took it as they walked arm in arm.

Before she could knock, he stopped her.

“You don’t need to be nervous. They all love you, you know.”

She giggled, “How’d you know I was nervous?”

“That,” he pointed to her arms twisted around her torso, “you only do that when you’re either overwhelmed or nervous.”

That stunned her. He actually paid attention to her?

“Ah, the joys of working with profilers…”

“No! I didn’t mean to be creepy or-“

“Spence, it’s not creepy. In fact, you’re nervous too.”

“Pardon?” He sputtered.

“Your voice is softer when you’re unsure, it’s your tell.”

It was his turn to be stunned as she knocked on the front door; it opened to reveal a slightly tipsy Penelope behind it.

“The good doctor and my sunshine! Come on in, wine is a-flowing!”

Laughing, she shot Spencer a small smile as Garcia dragged her towards the kitchen.”

Stories of college days and cases past were recalled lovingly over a few bottles of wine and homemade food. Music flooded through the radio, Carole King and Sam Cooke playing throughout the night.

She felt as though she was coming home like she had been away from home for so long. She had finally found her place in the world, she no longer felt like someone on the outside, always looking in. She felt known and accepted - a feeling she had been searching for her entire life.

She’d already bid Hotch and JJ goodnight when she decided to throw in the towel, just as she dialled the taxi company Spencer stopped her.

“I’m sober. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Emily gave her a knowing smile as she and Spencer said their goodnights and walked to his car, an old, beat-up Volvo.

Normally for someone so talkative, he was quiet. She assumed he was just concentrating on the road and her directions, she’d later find out that he was so flustered by her he couldn’t find the words to try to start a conversation. In his own words, he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

In the stillness of the night, through the radio came a song she hadn’t heard since she was a girl in her dad’s jeep.

Humming along, she couldn’t help but steal a glance at Spencer, a kind smile rested on his face permanently until he dropped her off.

“hush, when no one is around, my dear, you’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you.”

The next time the song played when they were together was seven months later. April showers meant their planned date became a stay-at-home one. She and Spencer had pulled apart her cupboards and refrigerator to make a meal.

Spencer took a shower as she stood at the sink, humming along and swaying her hips. Singing along turned into her own concert for no one, dancing without a care in the world as she scrubbed clean their plates and each pot and pan.

Spencer watched her shine, she lit up any room. She had no inhibitions, nothing holding her back. She was unbridled joy, sunshine in her smile, and gold in her eyes.

She caught his eyes as he stood in the doorway, laughing with her. Grabbing his hands, she pulled him into her as the music changed; Billy Joel’s ‘Just The Way You Are’ floating through her kitchen.  They fit together like two missing pieces of a puzzle, the answer to a life-long riddle. She laughed at his awkward stance.

“What are you laughing at? I don’t know how to dance!” He pouted.

“Just hold me and sway Spence,” she giggled.

And he did. They clung to each other as if the world was ending, everything else faded away. It was just them and only them.

She didn’t feel like she had to perform for him, she could just be herself. All her faults and imperfections didn’t bother her with him; he made her feel as though she was enough. She didn’t have to change herself for him to like her - he would have her anyway. As she would with him.

She knew she was fragile, that if she broke she would break into a million different pieces. He made her feel strong and secure like she could beat the demons that haunted her. That she was worthy of every good thing in her life, that she was worthy of the love he gave her.

At that moment, in his arms, she was enough.

“i’m still on that tightrope. i’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me…i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me.”

The memory was bittersweet.

Dancing in the refrigerator-light became their way of unwinding. Music was never off in either of their apartments; Spencer had some classical pieces on, she had some early 70s to late 80s records on. For three months, there’s only been silence.  

As time passed, he no longer laughed at her when she swayed or hummed along. He would perch himself on the edge of the couch, reading or watching some documentary. She would wash the dishes before showering. The domesticity of the situation would look normal to any outsider, but it was ice-cold between them; stuck in a stalemate they didn’t know how to get out of.

Yet, she believed that everything would work out. If it wasn’t meant then, it could in the future. She held onto that hope for a while after they split but he couldn’t look at her. When she looked at him, he no longer met her gaze. There were no stolen glances in the bull-pen, in the conference room, or on the jet. She didn’t ride with him in the SUV nor did they work on geographic profiles together.

Everything she had tried, she thought, didn’t work then and it wasn’t working now.

All she ever wanted was for him to look at her and really, truly see her. For him to know and love her for her, not some mirrored version of herself.

As she sat with her second glass of Rose, she couldn’t help but believe that she had ruined everything.

---

taglist:

@itsfangirlmendes​ @toosassy2handle​ @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​ @rexorangecouny​ @myheartbelongsintz @toizerdecker

[mimik-u]

Multitudes

Summary: On the 6,242nd anniversary of Pink Diamond's shattering—nearly a year after the Diamonds discovered the existence of Steven—Yellow Diamond, as she always does, searches for Blue. Pre-movie.

Note: It has been far too long since I've written Bellow Diamond, and I've needed this very story lately—something about allowing yourself to feel your emotions while also continuing to move forward.

AO3

—

It is with a studied rhythm that Homeworld’s twin suns pull each other up through the darkness, blanketing the sky in a soft pink glow as they ascend, going slowly, all gentleness. Yellow Diamond watches the familiar spectacle from her latticed window, hand beneath her chin, mind elsewhere as the fractured light glances off the angular planes of her face.

To a being who has lived ten thousands of years upon years, the emergence and passing of a new cycle is but a blink of the eye, a meaningless unit in the long linearity of her given lifetime. And yet, as she has learned so viscerally in even just the past six thousand years alone, the surest, and perhaps only way to measure time is to judge it by the movements of the other gems around her.

And by other gems, she means Blue Diamond.

For she always means Blue.

Her strength, her weakness, her light, her darkness, her partner, her monomaniac fixation, her fellow goddess, her friend.

(The dichotomies and multitudes of their relationship have always stunned Yellow Diamond at best and scared her at worst.)

For six thousand years, she scheduled her entire existence around knowing exactly where the other matriarch was at all times. In-between court sessions and trials and all of the various other councils Yellow convened alone, she sent Pearls to inform her of where Blue Diamond was and what exactly she was doing. The trail of her mourning was as readily available to her as reports on potassium deposits in faraway colonies.

She learned, intimately, that Blue rotated between haunts every so often like an organic beast migrating between seasons. Each spatial relic of Pink Diamond’s past were but pastures to graze in prolonged misery.

Against her own volition, Yellow came to understand that some cycles, by the sheer fact of what they once were, were harder for Blue Diamond than others.

The anniversary of Pink’s emergence into the world.

The day they decided to bequeath her her own colony.

The remembrance, the haunting, the sadistic exhibition of her shattering.

Before they laid eyes on what they had thought to be her shards, the Diamonds had never truly known pain, the sharp dimensions of it, the astonishing depths. 

When Blue Diamond’s screams rent the air for the first time, the entire Earth seemed to scream with her, wailing an unholy, feral song to which the three deities did not know the lyrics, though they sang along anyway. With their hands outstretched towards the colony Pink Diamond had once called home, they tried to fill in the melody the best that they could.

And they corrupted hundreds upon hundreds of gems.

And they shattered thousands more.

Because they had never lost anything before then.

And they wanted to make someone else and everything else feel the extent of their loss, too.

It is not an excuse.

A justification either.

It is only history, raw and unsanitized.

Yellow Diamond abruptly closes her eyes against the rosy sunrise as though stung, her fingers spidering against her tall nose.

Today would have been the 6,242nd anniversary of the shattering. 

Nearly a year ago, they learned that everything they had ever assumed about their beloved Pink Diamond was a lie—including this very date.

Still, the old memories come unbidden—the shards, the terror, the ungodly screaming. 

And yet, the familiar is now tempered by the newer sensations that have surfaced to foreign planes in her mind ever since she has met, loved, and wanted to do better for Steven Universe: the guilt, the helplessness, the fragility of everything, of it all.

When Yellow Diamond snaps her eyes open again, the images still burn the backs of her retinas, and it all comes together in one jangling, dissonant, clashing symphony—lights and noises, echoes and pale ghosts: the shards, the guilt, the terror, the helplessness, the ungodly screaming, the fragility of everything, of it all.

She is naked.

Fifty foot tall, the fragments of thousands of gems all over her hands, she is exposed.

With a violence that startles Pearl—who’d been running algorithms on her screens—Yellow stands up from her alcove, stretching her long limbs extensively, as though trying to excise something out along with the stiffness, too. 

“Sorry,” she says gruffly, glancing away. (She’s working on it—she is—but apologies still don’t come easily to the matriarch.)  “Just have somewhere I need to be.”

With a few quick taps of a nearby panel, Pearl pulls up and enlarges a video feed of the throne room. A snatch of heavy blue fabric dragging against the floor is all she needs to see.

“... that wouldn’t happen to be the throne room, my—I mean, your—um, Yellow Diamond, would it?” (Pearl is working on it—she is—but thousands of years of ingrained slavery are hard to completely forget, too.)

Relief mixed with gratitude mixed with awkwardness darkens the gold around Yellow Diamond’s sharp cheekbones.

“Thank you, Pearl.” 

A similar blush scribbles itself across the bridge of the smaller gem’s nose. 

“Of course.”

(They’re both working on it—they are—Diamond and Pearl alike, trying to figure out what it means to be companions in Era Three. Equals. Maybe one day, friends, if such an unstudied phenomenon can happen between them after all these unchanging cycles of mastery and slavery.)

(But she wonders to herself—she wonders this every day—is there grace enough in this universe for the Diamonds?)

(Is there such a thing as absolution and reprieve?)

Brow furrowed above her eyes, Yellow finally sweeps out of her chamber, heels clicking reliably against the marble veined floor. 

(She doesn’t know.)

(She isn’t sure she wants to know.)

The passage between her chamber and the throne room is a covered bridge, the path intricately laid, sunlight slanting through the arches and onto her handsome armor in patches. 

She doesn’t stop to look below—doesn’t have time to spare even though she has all the time in the world—but even as she walks, she can hear all the many ways that Homeworld is changing, the echoes of the reforming city drifting up to the palace like sacrificial smoke. There is the humdrum of communication—talking and conversing, snatches of loud laughter. And there is the steady thrum of ship traffic zooming through the brightening sky. 

She knows, without looking, that there are flashing colors and newly constructed infrastructures. Councils are being formed, the judicial system overhauled independently of the Diamonds' oversight. Representatives for the various Gem types are elected fairly and democratically. An economy based on rare rocks—locally sourced from Homeworld’s own Kindergarten—is slowly but surely being constructed by business minded Peridots. Gems from all eras and cuts and cabochons are cohabiting side by side, communing and learning to coexist without prejudice and fear.

Their world, for the first time in millions of cycles, is evolving.

For good and for the best.

With a pang that tightens her diamond as she finally approaches the intricately carved double doors leading into the throne room, Yellow Diamond wonders what it means that she is falling into the same pattern she has threaded year after year for 6,242 years.

Do Diamonds ever change their facets?

Or are their hardnesses immutable, unchanging?

(She wonders—she wonders this every day—if one day the universe will pronounce judgment on the three of them for their crimes against Gemkind?)

(Will doing better be enough to lighten the sentence?)

(Is doing better the same as being better?)

She curls her fingers tightly around one of the quartz handles and pulls outwards, her nerves suddenly electrified as the square of light from the door slowly pools into the throne room and across the floor, inching and seeping until it touches the hem of a heavy, dark robe. 

“Yellow.” Blue Diamond looks up, awed. “You remembered.”

As has been the Diamonds' shared habit lately, she's kneeling in front of the warp pad, cerulean fingers neatly templed on her lap, her posture reminiscent of the weeping statues in the Saturnal Spire, many of them immortalized in prostration. Yellow can see the traces of wetness beneath her grooved eyes, a telltale and familiar sign of what has already passed and what is yet to come. 

“Did you think I would forget?” She asks, immediately loathing that the question sounds so vulnerable and needy, as though she’s dependent—and maybe she is—on a negative answer.

“Truthfully?” 

“Yes”—she interjects impatiently—“I always want to know your truth.”

But, to Yellow’s surprise, Blue laughs quietly, the edges of her plump, blue lifted along the contours of her smile.

“Stars above, you still never wait for someone to finish their thought, do you?” 

“I didn’t intend to interrupt! I just—“

“Yes, I know, Yellow. Come.” Blue Diamond extricates her hands from one another and pats the empty space next to her. “Be with me, please.”

It is an irresistible request, an invitation that Yellow could never refuse (though she has never fully tried). With a few, stiff strides, she join the other matriarch on the floor, sitting crosslegged, even as her armored spine is ramrod straight. 

Appropriately chastised, her cheeks are dark with golden flush.

“Are you happy now?” Yellow mutters beneath her breath.

“Yes,” comes the quiet reply that very nearly paralyzes her. Perhaps realizing this, Blue Diamond extends the same hand she used to gesture towards the floor and places the tips of her fingertips on the spines of Yellow’s gloved knuckles. “I am…. in my own small way—happy and also undeniably sad. It is a curious contradiction.”

“Oh,” Yellow Diamond can only say, swallowing hard. 

“Oh,” Blue Diamond agrees, leaning—softly, very gently—against her, so that their shoulders touch. Her silvery hair falls to the side at the movement, the light from above crowning her head in liquid amber.

In gold.

“I didn’t wish to be alone today,” she admits, frowning, “but for the last six thousand and sundry years, you have unfailingly ensured that I never was alone on this date... even when I thought that I wanted to be, even all the times I pushed you away.”

Yellow‘s breath hitches, shallow of air.

They’ve scarcely talked so openly before, even now, and perhaps especially now that the Diamonds are trying their damnedest to amend the wrongs of their pasts.

Even beyond that, intimacy is hard.

Indeed, it is one of the few lessons that the resilient general has yet to master for all of her focus and control.

She still doesn’t have all the steps in order yet... if there are even quantifiable steps to intimacy at all.

“You pushed me away often,” she finally says, and try though she does, she can’t quite keep an accusatory tone out of her voice. 

(Even if the Diamonds don’t wear their wounds, that doesn’t mean they were never inflicted.)

“I know,” Blue confesses, closing her eyes tightly against what Yellow knows to be a deluge of memories. “I knew all along most likely. I wanted to hurt you as were hurting me. If I could make you feel even a fraction of the misery that I did... if I could make any gems who crossed my path understand... I was quick, injudiciously so, to do as much.”

The matriarch is precise when it comes to identifying and analyzing her own emotions—incisive—another ability which Yellow never quite learned in thousands of millennia.

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” she says quickly, “if it’s too much.”

(It's always too much for Yellow.)

“But I want to.” Blue abruptly opens her eyes, and Yellow is startled to see that they’ve hardened, her expression pinched. “I mean, I suppose I need to... for there is this feeling in my chest, Yellow. It pulses in my very diamond and has expanded with each passing second that I have been up today. And I want to get rid of it—I must.”

Her fingers tense where they rest upon her hand, and the space between palm and knuckles, blue and gold, is electric with energy, pulsating.

The column of Yellow Diamond’s throat is thick, sticky with feeling.

“I have a feeling, too,” she admits, her voice surly. “When I awoke... and recalled what day it was... I couldn’t shake it.”

Blue’s eyes are wide and tired, weary with six thousand cycles of mourning. The carnage is pooled all over her face. It scarred both of them. It nearly maddened White. 

“Name it, Yellow,” she whispers, and it is almost a supplication, desperate and reverent on the Diamond’s lilting tongue. “Please.”

What is there to do but comply?

What stands between her and a handful of words except her own sheathe of an ego of a personality?

Yellow Diamond flinches before she ever opens her mouth, half-hating and entirely fearing what she is about to make their reality.

“I miss her, Blue.”

“And?” Because Blue Diamond knows—she always seems to know—when her sentences are unfinished, when words remain unspoken. 

Yellow’s eyes burn, the leakage threatening to spill out.

“And I feel guilty about it, for missing her now… after what we did to her... after what we have done to so many other gems.”

To ourselves, too.

To each other.

More unspoken aches, though the merciful Blue Diamond is kind enough not to call her out on them.

A single tear glances down her long, oval face, collecting calmly on the point of her chin.

“How can we be moving on,” Yellow continues, wiping roughly at her eyes with her other hand, “if we are here again? The same place we have been every year for the last six thousand years? On the floor, broken. Our world is turning, Blue! Evolving! Transforming! Do we not revolve with it?”

If this is the pattern and the routine to which they inevitably return, does this not mean that they will one day become stagnations and calcifications?

Monuments and monoliths to their own shattered pasts?

What is all their progress, their actions and their actions and their atonements and their actions, if they cannot ever abstain from this vicious ceremony?

Will they still be here, six thousand years more from now, missing a gem who will never come home to them again?

Will there never not be a day when a rosy, pink sky doesn’t evoke her name on their tongues?

Pink Diamond.

She used to sing flowers into full bloom.

When Blue isn’t immediately forthcoming with an answer—her dark lips parted slightly in silence—for the first time in the entirety of her existence, Yellow feels no triumph in being right.

There is no pleasure in the conception and epiphany of their eternal damnation.

There is only acceptance, she thinks, glancing down at the warp pad, dull and empty. 

(Steven hasn’t visited in twenty-one cycles now.)

Stoic and unceasing resignation.

“Yellow Diamond...” A tall hand cups her chin gently and draws the general’s gaze upwards until all the goddess sees is blue. Her eyes. Her complexion. Her alice blue hair. Her lips. Blue Diamond looks at her all over, and there is an ancient sadness engraved in all the geometric lines of her face. “Do you really believe that multiple things cannot be true at the same time?”

“I—“

“No,” Blue cuts her off firmly. “Let me finish, please. We have done horrible things, and we are trying, every day, to do better. We hurt Pink immeasurably... and we are hurt—stars, we will be devastated—by her loss forever. Those sentiments are not mutually exclusive.” Blue’s voice hitches, her warm breath so close that Yellow can feel it on her skin. “They can’t be... or else, what do we have to look forward to for the next thousands of years of our lifetimes? How can we deal with the enormities of our lives if we do not allow our lives to be enormous—both an exemplar and a testament to complexity?”

Yellow stares at her companion incredulously, wanting to believe in the grandiosity of their existences (again) but not quite daring to (as she had once so easily done before).

Dichotomies and multitudes and holistic systems of so many moving, working parts—Yellow Diamond, for all of her intelligence and logic and ratios and statistics, does not know how to compute them. Her morality has always been a straight line that favors extremes, tilting like an unbalanced scale, from one weighted end to the other.

“But you feel it, too,” she argues hoarsely. “You have a feeling in your chest as well.”

Her gaze unwittingly travels down to Blue’s gem, gleaming brightly against her cerulean complexion.

But the other Diamond, fingertips still captured beneath her chin, doesn’t allow the moment to linger, insisting, with a gentle nudge, that Yellow Diamond holds her head up high.

“And so this just means we have a final pair of questions to ask ourselves, yes?” Blue smiles lightly, all tenderness and sadness, all warmth and terrible grief.

Dichotomies and multitudes.

They stun Yellow Diamond, and they perplex her, and they frustrate her to no conceivable end.

Even now, she isn’t sure that she’s following, and yet, as the two of them sit here—linked by touch and millennia and memories—she knows, without ever being able to articulate the sentiment into words that would matter or make sense, she would follow this gem to the ends of their world, conceivable or otherwise.

“What do we do with this feeling now that we have it?" Blue’s smile only deepens, becoming more felt, arctic eyes melting. "And how do we make sure it doesn’t go to waste?”

Her face shines in the brilliance of the warp pad’s newly glowing light.

“Today,” she says, “we allow ourselves to feel the pain of losing Pink... and we play with Steven Universe... and we not only love him, but show him that we do.”

“And tomorrow?” Yellow dares to ask.

A concentrated beam whooshes downwards from the ceiling of the palatial hall.

“Tomorrow”—Blue Diamond squeezes her hand—“we can move forward again... hand in hand.”

There are colonies to continue dismantling and long corroded infrastructure to repair. Homeworld’s grid system needs to be replotted, and a Kindergarten on Iphigenia would be a meaningful location to repurpose as an organic life conservation facility. Transportation services between Homeworld and Earth are still being configured, especially given Earth’s less than spaceship friendly atmospheres and surfaces. Former gem experiments require a delicate unraveling and a reckoning both for Yellow Diamond who ordered them to be carried out in the first place. Blue and White and Yellow Diamond alike, all three of them in harmonious union and sync for the first time in thousands of years, want to build a memorial spire in Sector 9 for the Rose Quartzes to inhabit if they should so choose—a place of rest and healing, circled all throughout with restorative waters.

“I... like the sound of that.” 

The tentative beginnings of hope creep into her low voice.

“I thought you would,” Blue teases as particulate matter and atoms and long reclaimed stardust begin to arrange themselves into the boy named Steven Universe.

“We start now.”

[ofcastora]

@lavolumnia replied to your post: i wanna read more from this AU

In which I continue the DiVerona Regency AU // Part 2 of me transforming Castora and Vivianne’s baking class into a Regency women’s archery club, inspired by this historical club and these outfits ft. Bridgerton-level historical accuracy. Also in which Castora becomes deeply invested in her mother-figure’s happiness and bears witness to a bodice ripper romance, but does not care for it at all. 

MENTIONED/APPEAR: Vivianne Sloane // @lavolumnia, Everett Craven // @evcravens, Priam Taravella // @priam-taravella, Cosimo Capulet (NPC), Silviana (NPC), the du Pont family, the Daly family

It was a truth universally acknowledged by all who had the misfortune of taking a stroll in Hyde Park in the morning hours in the month leading up to the Hyde Park Amazon’s Liston Hall showcase and ball that Lady Vivianne Sloane and Miss Castora Aguilar were very awful at archery. Nothing, sans for hanging at the Old Bailey for accidental homicide, would prevent them in their endeavors, however. 

Both ladies were quite indomitable and all members of the ton who sought a stroll and all squirrels seeking whatever squirrels sought quickly learned it was best to steer clear of them all together. On the bright side, while they made poor exhibition archers, perhaps in another life they would have made fine huntresses; neither of them had gotten anywhere near a bullseye, but they have gotten significantly closer to skewering a squirrel.

“It appears, Lady Vivianne, that we are actually getting worse.” 

“Nonsense.” Such a thing cannot be possible was the unspoken truth. 

Castora loosed another arrow. It did not land on the target, soaring high overhead and landing squarely in the tree behind it. “Perhaps you are, but I think my form is improving.” 

It was Vivianne’s turn to try; the arrow skimmed past the edge of the target, nestling itself in the dirt by the unfortunate tree that caught Castora’s arrow. 

“I can see that.” 

If the pair still had any arrows in the quiver, Castora was quite certain that Vivianne would have stabbed her with one. She gently placed her bow on the ground, fighting the impulse to break in two. It looked like Vivianne had the same thought as her. “Shall we?” she asked

This was, perhaps, the most depressing part of their practice sessions – collecting the evidence of their failures. 

“I suppose we have no choice –– unless you could hire a lady’s maid for this purpose?” 

“A lady’s maid for the sole purpose of fetching our arrows?” 

“I dare say she would have her work cut out for her.”

Castora pulled a stubborn arrow from the dirt, ignoring how it stained the hem of her dress. She took a look at their de facto practice field, something akin to distress on her face. “At least we did not lose any arrows in the Serpentine today,” she muttered. “Do you think it is too late to ‘come down with something’?” 

“Mrs. Silviana will have your head.” 

“Good. She can take it. She’s so often taken leave of her senses, maybe she’ll find use for my head,” Castora remarked. 

Vivianne raised an eyebrow, “You are quite bold to assume she has the sense to take advantage of such an opportunity.” 

They had reached the tree where Castora’s last arrow had lodged itself. Oh, damn it, she thought, seeing that it had landed about a foot taller than Castora herself. She jumped, trying to grab hold of it, but could not reach. 

Vivianne, who Castora was quite certain could reach it, stood by watching the younger woman take out all her energy on an arrow, the corners of her lips threatening to curve into a smile. 

A few more attempts occurred, each more feeble than the last. Castora leaned against the tree to catch her breath. “I simply have no wish to embarrass myself in front of the ton, Lady Vivianne – yes, I am keenly aware of the irony.”

"Surely you cannot be afraid of them?” Vivianne asked. Castora wished she could read her expressions better – was the woman surprised by this? Disappointed? 

“I am aware of the reality of my circumstances,” she said grimly. “And I feel like I have exhausted my quiver of accidents for this season.” Castora was a wit, a court jester the ton tolerated despite her father conning half of their father’s out of a not-insignificant sum of money because of powerful friends, a beautiful cousin they would all like to wed (or bed), and because someone had to provide some amusement, but their tolerance was ever-wavering tightrope. She could walk it, but she would always teeter. 

The fall was inevitable. 

Vivianne looked seriously at Castora, then smirked. “Yes, that game of Pall-Mall was certainly something.”

Castora’s cheeks burned. “It was an accident and Priam Taravella knows it.”

“If your aim with a bow and arrow is any indication of your aim in general, I believe you.” It was not. They both knew that – and Castora had surmised that Vivianne realized that she had been aiming for her future-stepson-in-law’s head, but that was to be expected when the beast knocked her own ball out of the way on purpose. “If it is any consolation, Miss Castora, I promise that I will be there with you to suffer Silviana and that exhibition together.” 

“Thank you.” She understood the hidden meaning – no one would insult her at the Exhibition with a future duchess by her side. 

Vivianne stepped forward, easily reaching the arrow. 

Snap. In her efforts, the arrow had split – the tip and a quarter of the shaft remained lodged in a tree. Vivianne glowered at the remnants of the arrow in her hand. 

“If I have to look at another arrow today, I think I might die.” 

“I quite agree, Miss Castora.” She was quiet for a long moment.  Then, she asked, “How about tea?”

--

A maid poured their tea and quietly left. Castora looked around at Vivianne’s apartments in wonder – surely, this was the most beautiful place she had ever been in. If I ever have the funds to decorate my own lodgings, I should like to make it look like this, Castora thought. 

“Who do you picture when you fire an arrow?” she asked. Vivianne sipped her tea, thinking over the question carefully. 

“Silviana,” she answered. “And a few others, but lately mostly Silviana. And yourself?”

“Silviana, too.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was not the whole truth. “I take turns picturing all the people who have made me cross.”

“And somehow you rarely hit your target.”

“Perhaps I would have more luck if the person I wished to strike was in the vicinity. There is only so much the imagination can do.”

A lull fell over the conversation. “I suppose you must quit this place when you and the Duke marry.” An odd expression crossed over her face at the word marry.

“Nonsense – this is mine.”

“Yours? How?”

“My late father bequeathed to his cousin, Philip Allard, in his will -–”

“–– The Duke of Beaufort?” 

“Yes. His only daughter, Lady Daphne, is married.” Castora detected a hint of a grimace in Vivianne’s voice. “Since the family hates London, he saw no use for the property, so he gave it to me.” 

Ah. This was as close to Vivianne’s as it could be, and yet it did not truly belong to her. It was charity. It was alms for a less fortunate relative. Castora understood. At least Vivianne owned something, bittersweet though it may be. 

“My distant cousin who inherited Uppercross after my Andrés’s passing pays for my lodgings in London for the Season.”

“Do you reside at Uppercross the rest of the year?”

“No,” Castora scoffed. Uppercross wasn’t the home she had as a child, the one she lost twice over. It did not belong to her anymore. It never did. “I usually take invitations from friends in the countryside. I toured the Lakes with Lady Pandora the last year.” 

“Your mother does not miss you?” It did not surprise her that Vivianne knew that her father was gone, but did not know what happened to her mother. No one really cared what befell Isabella Aguilar in the wake of her husband’s scandal. 

“My mother is dead,” Castora replied flatly.

“Mine is too.”

“I suppose that makes us both orphans.”

“It’s quite an ugly word, do you not agree?” Vivianne sipped her tea. “It comes from the Greek word orphanos, which means ‘bereaved.’”

“Orphanos.” Castora tested the word on her tongue. “You are right. It’s ugly. What is the best way to shed the label, orphan, do you think?” 

“Why, marriage, of course.”

Castora hesitated before asking, “Is that why you are marrying Duke Capulet?” It was odd, their match – after all, before all this Vivianne Sloane had been a spinster. 

Another one of Vivianne’s inscrutable expressions crossed her face. “No. Not the whole of it.”

“Is it a love match, then?”

“What constitutes a love match in your opinion?”

“The fool’s errand known as love, of course,” Castora replied. “But I suppose it can be a love match if you love his house, his title – I would hardly begrudge anyone a desire to become a duchess – although I would characterize that as a love arrangement, not a love match.” 

“I did not take you for a romantic – is that why you are still unmarried? Holding out for love, Miss Castora?” Such blunt questioning from anyone else would have offended her, but from Vivianne, Castora did not mind. 

“I do not wish to marry.” Only the greatest love could persuade me...or an offer from a Duke, a Marquess, an Earl, or a Viscount. Barons and men with gambling debts need not apply. Both options struck her as improbable, if not outright impossible. “It seems to me that every marriage I’ve witnessed has only brought misery...particularly for the women in the match.” Sure, her Uncle Aguilar’s marriage was quite happy by all accounts – surely, it helped that Ramona’s mother died young before the marriage had time to sour. 

Vivianne seemed curious. “What do you intend to do then?”

“My cousin, Ramona, is adored by the ton. She shall marry well.”

“And what if you received an offer from someone suitable?” 

“I would...consider it, as long as he is not a drunkard or a gambler. Actually, I believe I could deal with a drunkard. No gamblers,” she said. “Anything is better than ending up as a....governess.”

“I could not picture you spending your days tutoring children.” 

“My mother was one, actually, before she married. She worked for a good family, too. One that Vivianne was likely acquainted with. That was the other thing about Isabella Aguilar – she was intelligent. She was unfortunate, but bright. Love robbed her off her senses and killed her in the poorhouse. “She was unable to get back into the line of work with a child, however.” 

“Children complicate matters,” Vivianne said solemnly. The rumors of Vivianne Sloane’s first Season being delayed by a year floated back to the top of Castora’s head; there were whispers of a bastard child, but Castora had know interest in Vivianne’s secrets unless she chose to share them with her. 

“We do,” Castora said. “Lady Vivianne – I hope this goes without saying, but could you –– could you not repeat that my mother was a governess?” 

She nodded. “You have my word. Drink your tea, Castora. Before it gets cold.”

--

Liston Hall was a lovely country estate of middling size; it was pretty, spacious, and very green, everything a country estate ought to be, but it paled in comparison to the surrounding homes such as Campden Court. The true glory of Liston Hall was its apple orchard, where the archery exhibition would be held. 

Castora had not been to Gloucestershire since she was a child, accompanying her mother and forced to bear witness to her demise. During her year here, she had never been to Linton. The families of the other Gloucestershire estates – the Craven’s of Campden Court, the Daly’s of Aubrey Park, and the du Pont’s of Kellnych Hall – were not the type to deign to visit Linton Hall.

At least, that’s how Castora remembered them. She prayed that some things never changed. 

Whether or not the neighboring aristocrats visited seemed irrespective today – more than half the ton was here, but no one in the ton that Castora actually liked –-- except for Vivianne.

Who she could not find. 

Good God – she had one friend, or one person who was close to a friend, here and she could not find her. There was only so much small talk a girl coud do with a glass of lemonade, as anything stronger would not be served until dinner.

Leaving the hall to look for Vivianne, Castora collided into the chest of a gentleman, almost spilling her lemonade all over him.  Well, perhaps there was a splash or too on his shoes....and slight more than a splash on his white cravat. Said gentlemen did not seem angry so much as annoyed, however. Still, Castora wished she could melt into the floor.

“I apologize, sir, I am sorry,” she started, her cheeks aflame. 

“It is quite alright.” Oh no, this was worse – he was trying hard to be genteel about this. Something about his voice – and face, and countenance – looked familiar, but she could not place him. 

“Let me fetch a servant, perhaps they can....wash it?” 

He looked at her curiously, as though he was trying to place her, too. “I live at Campden Court – I shall send for a change of clothes direct.” 

Realization hit Castora like a ton of bricks. “You are Everett Craven, Marquess of Montrose.” She dropped into a courtesy and cursed every God for not answering her prayers. “I apologize again, my Lord.” 

He had come into the title several years ago with the death of his father and was one of the most desired bachelor’s in England –– and one of the most skilled at fending off ambitious mamas. He was almost more desired because he was, by all accounts, a proper gentleman who left rakish activities to the rest of his peers; it truly was a miracle he left London alive and unmarried.

She had heard more fearsome stories about him, however. The Season before her and Ramona’s debut, he accompanied Catherine Daly to London, as Lord Daly was unwell at the time, and practically bit off the head of every man who came near her.

“I am. Pardon me – have we met before, my lady?” 

Yes. See, while Isabella Aguilar was unable to find work as a governess, her former employer, the damned du Pont’s of Kellnych Hall, had found employment for Isabella at a lady’s maid to Lady Daly of Aubrey Park. She told them she was a widow, and with Bastian du Pont’s introduction, they accepted a lady’s maid with a child of the right age to be a playmate to their three daughters. 

Melting into the floor suddenly seemed insufficient. Perhaps she could suddenly collapse and die, like a lady in a novel, and be reincarnated as a bee. Yes, that seemed good. 

“No, I do not believe we have had the occasion, my lord.” She shook her head again, “Just Miss. Miss Castora Aguilar of Uppercross.”

“Castora? That is quite an––” 

"–– You can say unusual, my Lord. I cannot take offense since I have ruined your cravat.” At least it didn’t spill on his pants. 

He looked at her again. “Are you sure we have not met before?”

“Perhaps in London?” Castora lied. “London is full of faces and names, it’s hard to keep them all straight. Especially during the Season.”

Just as he was about to say something again, Vivianne rounded the corner. “Miss Castora, there you are ---” Whatever words were on her lips died when she saw the Marquess. It was quite a spectacular (and quite unsettling thing) to see Vivianne Sloane rendered speechless. 

She looked at the Marquess. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Is it too late to melt into the floor? Castora wondered, thinking about how to best extricate herself from the situation. 

Suddenly the lemonade-stained cravat seemed like the least of everyone’s problems. “Lady Vivianne,” the Marquess greeted. 

“Lord Montrose,” she said, similarly stiff. Neither pair seemed to notice Castora. They only had eyes for one another. God, now would be a lovely time to answer my call for death. 

She took a step backwards in the hopes of sneaking out and leaving them to...whatever was going to happen, but unfortunately, Fate had other plans for them as a person – namely, Duke Capulet – had rounded the corner in search of his wife-to-be. 

Duke Capulet was tall and distinguished with greyed hair; age suited him. He walked like someone who never doubted his importance and was unused to being denied. Castora had a difficult time thinking of him as anyone’s husband, or father, or guardian. 

“Montrose,” he said in greeting, falling back to Vivianne’s side. The man appeared jovial and pleasant, but there was an air of darkness about him – and he appeared to be in quite a fowl mood.

“Capulet,” the Marquess replied. Castora searched Vivianne’s eyes for a single clue as to what was happening. The future Duchess gave no indication that anything odd was going on. 

“What on earth happened to you, Montrose?” the Duke asked, gesturing to his clothes. 

“I was not watching where I was going and collided into the young lady whilst she carried some...water?”

“Lemonade,” Castora quietly corrected.  “The Marquess is too kind. This is my fault.”

“Regardless of whose fault it is, I hope you shall excuse me to get this matter sorted with.”

“Of course. Shall I see you at the exhibition, Montrose?” 

The Marquess nodded, made his courtesies, and left. 

The Duke’s attention fell to her, “And who are you?”

Vivianne answered for her, “Miss Castora of Uppercross, dear. She is in the Hyde Park Amazons with me.” The Marquess of Montrose seemed surprised at the revelation that Vivianne was in an archery club.

“Right, of course. You and Lady Vivianne have been hard at work these past few weeks, I have gathered.” He looked at her. “You are Aguilar’s girl, are you not?”

“His niece,” Castora said quickly, pretending not to know his meaning. “He passed away several years ago.”

The Duke did not stop. “Your father was an interesting character, more than what one would expect from one of Montague’s whelps. I think he tried to swindle me during a game of vingt-et-un.”

“My family is very lucky to consider the Montague’s our friends, my Lord,” she replied diplomatically, keenly aware that she could not afford to offend one of the most powerful men in the country.

“For your sake, Miss Castora, I pray the apple falls far from the tree. My dear, see that you never play cards with her,” he said with a snake oil smile. Castora supposed it was a charming smile, if one could ignore the malice hiding in his words. Still, she laughed at his joke.

And I pray the same for your daughter, you wretched man.

“If you will pardon me, my Lord, I think I am going to replace my lemonade.”

“Let me accompany you, Miss Castora,” Vivianne said. “We have much to discuss before the exhibition.”

They returned to the main hall, arm in arm. Castora squeezed Vivianne’s hand, and the woman squeezed back in silent apology. What reason is there to marry this man? Surely a duchy is not worth it? 

“I apologize for the Duke. He is not himself after travelling.”

There was something odd about resorting to pleasantries with Vivianne – they had so often bypassed them in their conversations in Hyde Park. A cold sensation settled into Castora’s bones.

“No apologies necessary, Lady Vivianne….how do you know the Marquess of Montrose?”

“Hmm?”

“It looked to be like you two knew each other.” 

“A lifetime ago. I did not think he would come.” Castora quietly wondered if Vivianne had been making the same prayers she had made on the journey over.

--

Castora was lined up with the other ladies of the Hyde Park Amazons...in the very back of the group, where no one could see her miss the target. Vivianne was not there. 

“Mrs. Silviana, have you seen Lady Vivianne?”

Silviana startled at Castora’s voice. “Oh, you are here.” 

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” She remarked before asking again, “Where is Lady Vivianne?”

Silviana’s eyes narrowed. “She has a headache and she is unable to join us. I am quite surprised, Miss Castora, that you do not have one as well.” 

Damn her, Castora cursed, Damn her for leaving me to fend for myself. Damn her for breaking her promise. 

“Are you alright, Miss Castora?” Silviana asked. 

No. I feel rather foolish, you useless twit, she thought bitterly. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Right, dear. And – do remember to aim, please?” She nodded and glared at Silviana’s retreating figure. Aim. She could do that. 

--

At last came time for the Exhibition. Gentlemen and ladies of the ton and other appropriate social circles gathered around the Hyde Park Amazons at a respectable distance, mostly on the sidelines by the tree. For this exhibit, the ladies were to fire five arrows and hit their targets. The more advanced archers would perform in a play about Artemis and her huntresses later in the day.

Five. You only have to get through five. 

On the first arrow, she thought of Vivianne and aimed. Predictably, she missed – not as poorly as usually, however. On the second arrow, she thought of Vivianne and aimed. She missed again.

On the third, Castora vowed to clear her mind. Do not aim for anything but the target. When the last thought melted away, Castora closed her eyes and fired the arrow. The audience gasped. 

Did I hit a bullseye? She opened her eyes to find that no, she had not hit the target. Her arrow was nowhere near the target. In fact, she could not see it all. Why is everyone staring at me?

The Hyde Park Amazon next to her, sensing Castora’s confusion, helpfully pointed at an apple tree towards the edge of their circle. Pinned to the tree by Castora’s arrow was a gentleman’s hat. One of the lower hanging apples helpfully fell to the ground. 

And not just any gentleman’s hat. No, it was Duke Capulet’s hat. The man was positively glowering at her. 

“Oops.” She swore quietly under her breath using a word she learned from Marcelo that no lady was supposed to know. I almost killed a duke. I almost killed a duke. Fuck, I almost killed a duke.

But she did not feel so bad for Cosimo Capulet after all. It wasn’t like she had stabbed him. It was only a hat, after all. It could be worse, Castora thought to herself. I could have swindled him during a game of vingt-et-un. 

Suffice to say, while the play continued without incident later in the evening, the ladies of the first exhibit did not fire their fourth and fifth arrows. 

--

After profusely apologizing to the Duke several times over, each time more insincere than the last, Castora excused herself from the luncheon with, appropriately, a headache. There

There was a knock at her door. Castora cautiously opened it to find Vivianne, standing in front of her right as rain. “Did you or did you not try to kill the Duke?” 

Castora ignored the question. “How is your headache, Lady Vivianne? I do hope you will be able to attend the ball.”

“Castora – did you try to kill the Duke?”

“No, of course not! Not intentionally at least! The only thing I ended up killing was his hat, and a trip to a good haberdashery could fix it right up!” She insisted.

Vivianne closed the door to Castora’s guest chamber behind her. “You deeply offended him, Castora,” she said seriously. 

“I was aiming for the target. I missed. That is not out of the ordinary for me, Lady Vivianne. Nor is it for you, and if you had shown up, you may have done worse!” 

“Perhaps, but as it stands, you are the one who accidentally attacked a duke. You also accidentally hit his future son-in-law in the face with a pall-mall ball several months ago – an incident of which the Duke is very much aware of. You can see why this...why this is problematic.” 

“It was an accident. I have offered to pay to replace the hat, an offer which the Duke said he is considering.”

“Castora, the Duke has strongly suggested to me that I find another hobby outside of the Amazons.”

Her face fell. But you’re my friend, the girl wanted to protest.  “He is not your husband, yet. He cannot make you do anything...unless you wish to leave.” 

“In some matters of life, what you want does not matter.” 

“Surely it does in this one?” 

Vivianne smiled bitterly, “Dear Castora, I forget how young you are sometimes.” 

With that, she left, closing the door behind her. Castora did not know why, but she had the sudden desire to cry for the first time since her mother’s death. 

--

There is absolutely no way this evening can get worse, Castora thought to herself as she prepared to enter the ballroom for the evening festivities. No chance in hell. 

Still, halfway to the ballroom she turned on her heel and thought best not to risk it. On the way back to her room, Castora decided that she did not want to sit in her room all evening and decided to visit the Liston Hall library. 

Scouring through the library, Castora settled on The Mysteries of Udolpho, a novel she had greedily consumed several years ago because Ramona suggested it. She had not liked it much, as Castora was not one for Gothic romances, but she was in no mood to explore. Take me away, Mrs. Radcliffe, to a world far less complicated than ours.

Settled by her desk, she was halfway through the second chapter when she heard two voices, one belonging to a man and the other to a woman, deep in the throes of an argument. The man dragged the woman into the library.

Castora froze – it was Lady Vivianne and Lord Everett. They did not see her from her position, and so they kept on spitting venom Castora did not comprehend at one another. Wishing to avoid another awkward encounter with the both of them, she simply sunk behind the desk before they could see her and waited for them to leave. 

About ten minutes later, they were still arguing and Castora still had no idea what in the hell was going on because she was trying not to eavesdrop, but sometimes she could not help it. 

But what she did hear was the Marquess of Montrose, voice laced with pain, asking Vivianne why she was marrying him. It did seem to be the question of the day. 

“Someone knows about Cyrus.” There was an eerie silence across the hall; Castora resisted the urge to emerge from her hiding place to ask Who is Cyrus? “They are trying to exhort me for money, but no one would dare come for me, or Cyrus, if I am Lady Capulet.” 

“How much? Who is blackmailing you?” Reasonable questions.  

“It matters not, Everett.” I fail to see how that is true.

“Vivianne, how can you say that?” Castora quietly noted the use of their Christian names, and quietly prayed to God for the upteenth time to day, that they would finish their argument somewhere else. 

“Because what is done is done. I cannot break this engagement.” Fair enough.

“You did not seem to have much of an issue with that before.” Ah, okay. There is that mystery solved.

“Don’t you dare. This is not remotely the same situation. If I do not marry Cosimo, then I will be ruined. Cyrus will be ruined. By association with me, Juliana will be ruined. I cannot have that.” A love arrangement, Castora realized. 

“I loved you,” the Marquess said. To Castora’s ears, it did not sound like his affections were in the past tense. Vivianne did not respond to Everett with words, but with actions. 

Oh no. Oh no. Dear God. From her hiding position under the desk, Castora saw the Marquess’s – clean – cravat flying off. Their….noises grew closer, and she heard someone place the other on the desk, knocking the copy of Udolpho off the table, but too far out of reach from Castora. 

How generous, Castora thought dryly, realizing that there would be no escape for her now. 

Castora covered her ears and cursing God, she laid back, and tried to think of England.

--

Much to Castora’s surprise, Silviana welcomed her back the following Thursday to the Hyde Park Amazons, remarking something along the lines of “At least we know you can hit something now, Mis Castora.” 

To everyone’s greater surprise, and Mrs. Silviana’s palpable disappointment, Vivianne showed up for practice. “I hope you are feeling better, Lady Vivianne. You can go and practice with Miss Castora in the back,” the instructor commanded. 

“I know the place,” the future Duchess replied, unable to keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice, before  walking over to her and Castora’s usual spot. 

Castora could not look her in the eye. She refused to do so, for if she did, she would admit to all she saw and heard. Around 15 minutes went by of excruciating silence, before Lady Vivianne chose to break it. 

“How are you, Miss Castora?” 

“I am well.” I want to die. “How are you, Lady Vivianne? How is Lord Capulet’s hat?” 

“We are both fine,” she responded wryly. “Once the Duke calmed down, he did not object to me continuing on with the Hyde Park Amazon’s...you can look at me, Miss Castora, I will not bite your head off.”

Do not say anything, she commanded herself. Do not –– “Lady Vivianne, I was in the library during the Liston House ball.”

Vivianne, who was preparing to fire an arrow, loosened it without bothering to see where it landed. The blood drained from her face. “I do not know your meaning, Miss Castora.” 

“I wish I did not know my own meaning either.”

She lowered her voice, “How much did you hear?”

Too bloody much. “All of it, unfortunately. I did not intend to. I truly, truly did not intend to. I decided against going to the ball, and was trying to read when you and the Marquess entered. I thought it best to hide until you two were finished ––” Everything seemed like a poor choice of words, but Castora persisted. “–– And I did not intend to hear….so much.” 

Vivianne was silent for a long time. The girl in front of her was so distressed that she could not help but believe her, and then, “The Mysteries of Udolpho, really, Miss Castora?”

“I am not proud of it either. Listen, Lady Vivianne, I want to assure you that I...I will say nothing of...of, well, anything, to nobody. I do not know, or care, who Cyrus is. Or that you were once engaged to the Marquess, or that you two appear to still love each other very much.” 

“I appreciate your discretion, Miss Castora, but I must correct you on the last point. Whatever we had was in the past.”

“From where I stood, what was past seemed present.” 

“I would prefer if you did not discuss myself and the Marquess anymore.” 

“As you wish, Lady Vivianne –– however, there is one point, I do have an inquiry on. Who is blackmailing you and is there any way I can help?”

“No, dear girl, there is not.” 

The pair were quiet for a long moment. “I think you would be a better Marchioness than a Duchess. Marchioness Vivianne sounds better than Duchess Vivianne, does it not?”

“That is your opinion.”

“And what is yours?”

“Miss Castora, I thought we agreed not to speak about the Marquess anymore.”

“Yes, but in all honesty, I like him more than the Duke and I think you do, too. He is titled, wealthy, and is capable of weathering scandals. The Craven family is powerful. No one would dare come for a Marchioness of Montrose, either. If Duke Capulet was ever unwise enough to gamble with my father, I do not know how wise he will be in the future. And Juliana Capulet is set to be married in a month to a powerful, wealthy man. She could weather her father’s broken engagement if done with grace.”

“There are more forces at play here than you understand, Castora.” 

“Yes, but I understand enough to know that you do not deserve the misery that is to come with a life chained to Lord Capulet.” Yes, but after everything I was forced to witness in that library, this the least you could do for me. 

“And you are convinced the Marquess is a good man from the five minutes you saw of him?” 

“He is always kind to those lower than himself.” 

Vivianne laughed, “You are a romantic, after all.”

“No, I simply believe that the only reasons to marry are for great, true, unshakeable love, or comfort and protection. The Marquess appears ready to provide you with both,” Castora said.

“I did not realize you cared so much.”

I saw my mother collapse in on herself from misery; I will not see it happen again. “I--I like my friends to be happy, Lady Vivianne.” 

“Happiness requires miracles. You and I both know too well to believe in them.”

Castora could not argue with Vivianne on that point.

Mrs. Silviana screamed and ran up to the region her two least favorite students were exiled to. “Oh my God, you did it! Which one of you did this?” 

The pair followed her gaze to the target where the last arrow Lady Vivianne fired had landed in the center of the target. A bullseye. 

For a moment, Vivianne Sloane and Castora Aguilar both believed in miracles.