#and are like stunned that anyone else would reach the same conclusions or like the same things or whtever

[prairiedeath]

some ppl on here are so full of themselves & think they're like these internet celebrity trendsetters who everyone is skinwalking..... your presentation is a result of everything you've consumed just like everyone else. we're all cannibals and it's beautiful, get over it.

[blazeeblake]

Unsettling

Inspired by this post. I wrote this late at night, zoning out on cold medicine while attempting to recover from a booster shot, so I can’t vouch for the quality 😅:

Dinner had been going great as far as Buck could tell. He and Tommy were still in the figuring it out stage of things, but a meal with Chim and Maddie felt like a step in the right direction; at least, up until the moment his sister unsuspectingly guided the conversation into a minefield.

“So, Tommy,” she began between bites of salad, “I have to say, I was really surprised when my brother told me about your date — not so much in terms of the pronouns of it all, but because the way he told it, you were way more focused on Eddie when you two met.”

Tommy shrugged, pushing around the remainders of his own plate, “Course correction’s a skill you hone when you’re tangling with baby gays— not that I’m sure Eddie even counts in that department. At this rate he’s essentially embryonic. Like, indefinitely.” Maddie cocked her head to the side, whatever follow up she may have had fading away into a loaded silence that descended over the room.

“H-huh,” Chimney chuckled unevenly, “well, uh, I don’t want to speak for anyone that’s not here but I’m pretty sure—“

“Wait,” Buck interrupted, brows knitting together, “You were trying to date Eddie?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tommy replied, as if it was painfully obvious, “At least, until I realized where things stood with him, and then I—

“Course corrected?” Buck finished, “With me. Your second choice.”

“Oh, like I’m not your second choice. Seriously, Evan, don’t be dramatic.”

“Maddie, honey,” Chimney broke in, rising out of his seat, “why don’t we go get dessert ready?”

“Ready?” Maddie repeated, eyes darting between her brother and his date, “It’s already—“

“What are you talking about?” Buck pressed, far too preoccupied with his burgeoning confusion to notice Chimney coaxing his quietly protesting sister out of the room.

Tommy rolled his eyes, pointedly setting his fork down, “Oh come on. Eddie’s on a special level of oblivious— and I mean, no surprise there, Catholicism builds its closets nice and sturdy— but you can’t expect me to believe you’re just as clueless, Mr. Trying to get my attention by pulling another boy’s pigtails.”

“Wha— No,” Buck sputtered, his breath hitching strangely and tripping him up, “Th-that wasn’t about Eddie. He’s not even— and even if he was, we’re not… I mean, we wouldn’t.”

“Right, because you’re scared it would burst the little bubble you two live in where you can have your cake and call it normal friendship,” Tommy concluded, his tone once again gratingly matter of fact, “Face it. A relationship with Eddie is heavy lifting from any angle, so we both opted out for each other, no harm, no foul.” Buck blinked, momentarily stunned into silence as his mind tried and failed to construct a solid counter to the conclusion Tommy had all but thrown in his face. All of it made sense, perhaps more sense than the raw foundations of yet another relationship built on someone else’s initiative and his own need to reach for any degree of being wanted, no matter how scant. The truth of it all stung and made his heart beat faster than he could stand, but at the same time there was something freeing in all that chaos.

“He’s not,” Buck managed softly.

“Gay?” Tommy replied, “Right, and Elton John just needs to meet the right girl.”

Buck shook his head, “No, I mean, he’s not heavy lifting or whatever you said. If you think that, you don’t know him at all— a-and maybe you don’t know me either if you think I’d feel that way.”

“Ev—“

“It’s Buck. And if all of this was settling then I guess you were right the first time: I’m not ready.” Tommy eyed him for a beat before sighing and pushing his chair back from the table.

“At least you’re consistent,” he said as he stood and began making his way to the front door, “A little slow on the draw but still miles more self aware than your buddy. I’d say good luck pulling him out of Narnia, but I’m not gonna hold my breath.” Buck didn’t respond, instead opting to drop his gaze to the floor and let his racing thoughts drown out his surroundings until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m guessing you heard all that?” He asked.

“Sorry,” Maddie said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “The acoustics down here are pretty unforgiving, privacy-wise.

“Sorry I ruined dinner,” he muttered.

“Technically,” Maddie reasoned, “I started it, so—-“

“I vote we blame no Buckley or Hans ,” Chimney said, dropping into the seat Tommy had vacated, “and we call this a win because screw that guy. I’m all for second chances but that dude’s practically on his fourth and he just keeps blowing it.”

“What am i supposed to do now?” Buck asked, turning to look up at his sister.

Maddie offered him a small, tight-lipped smile, “it’s like I said before: whatever you need to do, you’ll do it in your own time.”

“Right, but what if I screw it all up? He’s going through so much right now already and I don’t want to be one more thing he has to deal with.”

“I mean, maybe him going through things is the silver lining, you know? He’s figuring out his future and there’s room for you to work out where—not if— you fit in all of that. Because, for what it’s worth, I can’t picture a scenario where you two don’t figure it out. I can’t promise it’ll go the way you want it to, but I think you owe it to each other to talk.”

Chimney nodded, “As a daily witness to you guys being… well, you, I second that. And who knows? Maybe it all does work out. You communicate instead of fighting in a supermarket or shoving each other on a basketball court, and before you know it, you’re up close and personal with that glorious mustache of his.”

“Oh, Howie,” Maddie scoffed, “that mustache is definitely just a phase. One that maybe proves my point, but a phase nonetheless.”

“You bite your tongue. It’s beautiful and here to stay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you need to tell Eddie? Or, his facial hair?”

For the second time that evening, Buck let the conversation fade into the background of his thoughts; or rather, the one thought that all the rest had melded into.

He loved Eddie—was in love with Eddie— and as terrifying as it was, the truth of it loomed too large to be reburied or ignored. He didn’t know if time and talking were the remedies his family made them out to be, but if there was any chance at all in them, he was stubborn enough to find out. The way he saw it, he’d practically been holding his breath all this time without knowing anyway, so what was a little while longer if it meant Eddie at the finish line? Unlike a certain helicopter pilot, Buck had the stamina not to settle.

[lobotoboy]

Today I ascended from this mortal plane and remembered why I love movies and want to pursue filmmaking.

For context, I watched Barbie, and the Miraculous Ladybug movie today.

So, I saw Barbie with my mom, in a theater full of women. The first five minutes, I was sat there like "Did the internet lie to me again?" cause I was genuinely confused about what the hell was happening onscreen. But once I managed to get into the groove of things, I really enjoyed myself. I didn't play with Barbies growing up, and it was still enjoyable to me. It was so campy and funny(thank you Kate McKinnon and Michael Cera for being a big source of that), but it had some pretty deep themes, such as criticism against both a patriarchy and a matriarchy, the struggles of women in society, existentialism, and mother-daughter relationships. Definitely a movie for the girlies, but I think it's enjoyable for everyone.

I think the music was great. My mom hates musicals, despises them with her whole heart, but she told me after the movie that she loved I'm Just Ken. And yeah, it was so much. My favorite bit was the fast paced "Can you feel the Kenergy" moments. I've been playing Identity V, and I use that to hype me up for matches. It gives 80s power ballad, and it's super fun to listen to over and over again. Ryan Gosling did a very good job with it. I can see I'm Just Ken and Peaces battling it out for Best Original Song. Push was great as well, despite being underused in the movie, the full version(which is a cover of an existing song) is very interesting, and lyrically fits the movie so well.

I'm not typically a fan of bright colors in movies, catch me watching The Batman any day, but Barbie is the exception, as it just made certain scenes feel so much more important. Mattel offices being cold and gray, really sold that corporate vibes, and the soft white at the ending with Ruth definitely made it feel like Barbie was reaching a life-changing conclusion. It's a wonderful use of color.

Now the themes are the big draw of the movie. Regarding the patriarchy, matriarchy, and daily struggles of women, those themes are definitely hard to miss, but they do so much good with them. Showing Ken being essentially brainwashed by the idea of the patriarchy is interesting, and definitely rings home for anyone who grew up with boys as friends. I've seen a few guy friends of mine turn from sweet guys, into womanizers as they grew older. And it also shows that a matriarchy isn't good either, by showing how the Kens feel less than in BarbieLand. The Ken's situation is a muted version of women's situations in the real world. The Kens aren't sexualized or hated, but they're ignored. In the real world, both in the movie and real life, women have it worse than the Kens, and feel in a similar position. Makes it easy to enjoy both perspectives. Barbie focusing on thoughts of death and change as a whole hits with me on a personal level, as I have a lot of issues with existentialism, and any movie with death as a major theme usually brings me close to tears(such as Puss in Boots 2, curse you good movies). Seeing Barbie meet her creator in Ruth was so sweet, and was incredibly heartwarming.

Special mention to the line "We mother stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they've come". It made me want to give my mom the biggest hug, and I'm in no way a hugger.

Then I went home, and watched the Miraculous Ladybug movie because I had nothing else to do. I've been with the show since 2020, which isn't as long as other fans, but the show still sticks in my brain the same. I knew the animation was going to be great, and that the art direction would make up for any shortcomings in the story. And while yes, the plot was rushed (duh, like, how many years has it taken to get to this point in the show? its gonna feel rushed) but the art was absolutely stunning. My favorite moment was from Hawkmoth's villain song, Chaos Will Reign(available on Spotify) when they pulled out the Disney Villain lime green color. I love that color, and seeing Hawkmoth with it made me ascend. I really love the ending battle as well, the use of colors, lightning effects, butterfly textures, was just perfect. The animation was also really smooth, down to the small details of hair movements, such as when Nino and Alya are on the roller coaster, or when Chat Noir's hair gets wet.

The music was probably my least favorite part, just because I think Cristina Vee could've slayed it, and that the songs sounded kind of generic. But Oh My God, Chaos Will Reign had me bopping and replaying it. In fact, I'm listening to Chaos Will Reign and I'm Just Ken while writing this. It definitely gave me old Disney villain song vibes, mixed with the slightest hint of a Danny Elfman soundtrack. It just sounded so evil, but in a way that I can get behind. Keith Silverstein can actually sing, and that note at the end was wonderful. The vibrato gave me life. I was lowkey hoping Nooroo would stop talking so I could hear more. The chanting was awesome, and gave Friends on the Other Side vibes. I was (and still am) a big fan of villain songs, and this is a throwback to my theater kid days when I exclusively played villains and enjoyed it. Definitely overthrew the Hawkmoth Rap as my favorite Miraculous Ladybug song, but the Hawkmoth Rap is like, second place still. The only crime this song had was being too short. Release the ten hour cut.

Finally, aside from the glory that is Chaos Will Reign, I want to say that the two identity reveal scenes were amazing. I'll start off with Adrien and Marinette's, just because I care about that one the least. I think it was a creative way to go about it, with the masquerade masks. Fanfiction wins again. But I have so much to squeal about when it comes to the Adrien and Gabriel reveal. This version of Gabriel was definitely way more sympathetic than his show counterpart, despite committing atrocious acts. I actually wanted this Gabriel to get some redemption, and I think that bit of forgiveness from Adrien is just that. Let them have a good bond, PLEASE! The whole battle scene was just amazing, the fact that Hawkmoth was willing to do literally anything, and very nearly came close to winning. I knew he wasn't going to win, it's a kid's movie, but I was still on the edge of my seat and biting my nails.

I need both of these movies injected into my bloodstream ASAP.

Do I recommend them? Depends on your preferences. For Barbie, I can see why people wouldn't like it, it's campy(in a fun way), and it's anti-patriarchy and anti-matriarchy, which would make the misogynists and misandrists mad. But I think if you're open to a goofy time that will make you appreciate the women in your life, then give it a watch. It's definitely worth it.

For Miraculous Ladybug, it's a kid's movie, based on a show with a big following spanning years. I think it's something to watch if you're a fan, former or current, of the show. If you're just starting to watch Miraculous, it'll be a better watch if you sit through the show. But, it's a good movie, and still enjoyable for novice Miraculers.

I'm definitely watching these over and over again.

[seas-of-silver]

WIP - His Princess and Her Knight (Pt.2)

I am so excited that @jjuuppiter liked the last snippet that I'm posting a second one (I would post one other that I really like but idk if I wanna save it as a surprise or not hahaha, so we'll see on that). This snippet directly follows on from my last post.

______________________________________________________________

The emphasis she had on his name relieved him somewhat - she was just as thrown, just as curious, just as frustrated by the lack of memory as he was. So they searched through the notebook, only to find photos and dates with Adrien present for the space of a week before he vanished from the photos. Even more baffled than before, they scoured the entries that followed his “disappearance”. There were mentions of Marinette asking where “her Adrien” or “her knight” was, and when he’d be coming back in the numerous entries that followed until the inquiries faded away. Adrien’s heart clenched painfully for baby Mari.

They decided to go back to the first entry “post-Adrien era”, and found a photo of baby Mari, sitting on the ground, leaning up against a large tree, tiny hands clutching something desperately as her gaze is concentrated on some point beyond the photo’s borders.

Marinette was keenly missing Adrien today, not taking any interest in any of the activities or learning experiences the educators had set up for the children. Regardless as to whether she was inside or outside, she refused to play until Adrien arrived, and instead intently watched the gates and doors, waiting for him to come. She held a beaded trinket in her hand the entire day, never letting anyone else - including the educators - touch it, not bearing to part with it for even a second, saying, “This is a special present for my knight, my prince - no one else can touch it.”

Adrien’s eyes felt a little misty reading the story of baby Mari’s first heartbreak; there was something so innocent, so pure about that moment, and it deeply resonated with him. As Nino stood to get something, Adrien’s eyes returned to the photo and to the trinket in her hands. Its vibrant colours stood out against her hands, its pinks, reds and greens comforting and…strangely…familiar…

He pulled his Marinette Lucky Charm out of his pocket and compared it to the trinket in the image, his eyes moving between the two repeatedly. Marinette gasped beside him and Alya sucked in a breath as they both clearly reached the same conclusion he did.

‘What is it?’ Nino asked as he settled back down on the couch, depositing a tissue box on the coffee table next to the shoe box. He leaned forward and looked at the charm and the photo. ‘Is that the same one? Why do you have it?’

‘Marinette gave it to me for luck when we were training for that UMS tournament for school, remember? Didn’t I tell you that story?’ Adrien asked dazedly.

‘Yeah, you did, it’s just- it’s crazy, you know?’ Nino replied. ‘Marinette has this trinket she wanted to give to this Adrien kid who I’m like 90% sure is you, and then, what? A decade later she gives it to you?’ Nino turned to Marinette. ‘What made you give it to him?’

Marinette shrugged, a look of confusion passing over her. ‘It felt right.’

‘Hey kids, how’s it going?’

They all turned to see Madam Cheng come through the front door, carrying a bundle to the kitchen. Too stunned by their discoveries to answer her, she looked up and seemed to spot the lucky charm in Adrien’s hand.

‘Oh, I haven’t seen that charm of yours in ages!’ she said brightly. ‘Did you know that Marinette made that almost completely all by herself? All I had to do was help her with the knots, and as soon as she was done, she didn’t let anyone touch it - not even me! She never went anywhere without it for the longest time, saying that it was for her prince and her prince only.’ She chuckled at the memory, oblivious to the stunned silence of the teens. ‘It was supposed to bring him good luck and fortune, if I remember correctly. Wasn’t that right, dear?’

‘Uhm, uh, yeah,’ Marinette agreed shakily, her gaze returning to the charm.

‘You swore you were going to marry him, remember? Your little prince,’ Madam Cheng said, and Marinette’s face flush bright red. ‘Anyway, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.’

She closed the door behind her and the room fell silent; not that it made any difference to Adrien as his thoughts went wild. Could it really be him? If so, why was he only there for a week? What happened? Why didn’t he get to say goodbye to Marinette? Was there a reason he had nicknamed her “Princess” that day she met him as Chat Noir? What else didn’t he know? ______________________________________________________________ Part 1 << >>Part 3

[prometheusinitiative]

Ridley & Royce | Chapter 2 Verdict Reaction | I'll Be Glad When You're Dead; ATTN: Oz, Ivette

It doesn’t matter to Ridley that Jules was the one to arrange everything, to agree to everything, and to make plans so thorough and failsafe so many times over. She always thought they were paranoid to the point of being comical, but now, that level of caution and strict adherence to detail makes perfect sense. She hates that it does. 

She almost hates Jules for it, too, even though in the deepest, darkest part of her psyche, Ridley knows, if there was truly no other possible solution, she would have done the same thing for herself or for someone asking for the same. 

Tears roll silently down her cheeks as Jules’s final moments play out on the screens. She can’t look away, mesmerized by their body’s twitching and instinctive urge to struggle and survive despite being unconscious. Ivette and Oz didn’t even try to talk Jules out of it or reach out to anyone for help. They just went along with it, no questions asked. Ivette wanted to kill someone. Oz voluntarily indulged that. 

The memory of how Ivette’s hair smelled and how their skin felt beneath her fingertips makes Ridley sick. It’s like a miasma that chokes, feather-soft touches from someone who deceived her, someone she thought, maybe, for a rare, fleeting moment, understood her. Someone like Jules. Someone who, against all odds, might have even known what it was like to have come from what she and her brother came from. 

They were fools to trust people on the outside. 

Why would you ever want to kill someone?

She and Royce should have just stayed in their abandoned strip of highway and made whatever living they could out of the ruins there until God and whatever else decided it was time to take them home again. Forget the military. Forget trying to make a living like normal people and making up for time lost. They were never meant to make it this far to begin with, and look what there is to show for it.

As soon as they’re all in the same room together, Royce is beside her with a hand on her arm that turns into a pressured squeeze when it tenses beneath it. When he looks up at her, Ridley ignores him, eyes piercing through the back of others’ heads, quiet and still once again. The instant he feels her shift, his hand slides down her arm to reach for her hand, Encke’s conclusion going unheard as their respective attention shifts to each other. Ridley still isn’t looking at him.

Royce squeezes her hand once, shaking his head no before her eyes have even twitched to looking at him in peripheral vision, then takes a step back to separate them both from the rest of the group. In a flash, Ridley snatches her arm away, tearing out of her brother’s grasp as he seizes her around the waist and backhanding him across the face before he can even think of grabbing her again. 

The force from the impact actually knocks him to the ground, leaving him in stunned silence with no hope of closing the distance in the half-second it takes for Ridley to lunge at Oz.

“You,” she snarls, arms trembling with strength as she lifts Oz by the lapels of his jacket and throws him in the direction of the nearest wall, “Collective living? You think you’ve done a good thing? You think you’ve done us all some kind of favor by killing someone because she felt like it?”

Wild-eyed and murderous, Ridley holds Oz against the wall by his throat, her left arm pulled back and ready to strike him the instant he speaks. 

“You didn’t even try. Who are you? Who does something that sick? And for what?”

Her head snaps to Ivette, the hand against Oz’s throat pressing even harder, her entire weight holding him there. “For what? What happened to finding a solution? What happened to getting everyone out of here?“

She could break Ivette like a child’s toy if she wanted to. One hand around that pretty neck. One arm behind her back. Would the demure, polite persona she’d put on so far still come out? Is that what got Oz so willing to bend over backward for her? The innocent church girl thing? The same thing that Ridley thought made Ivette trustworthy?

Ridley festers as she looks him in the eye again, her entire mind hot, the unraveling threads of red, blue, and yellow around her wrist catching her eye. 

Her voice is noticeably weaker. “You didn’t even try. If you would have taken the fall for any of us, then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you do it for my friend? I trusted you! My brother trusted you! You let them die! You killed them! You two only care about yourselves! You don’t care about anyone here!”

The tiny moment of hesitation is enough to give Royce, bleeding and disoriented, time to recover and pull Ridley away with impressive strength that rivals hers, quickly shifting positions so she’s behind him and walking backward toward the opposite wall, arms spread both to protect her and indicate he doesn’t intend to cause harm to anyone.

She shoves Royce to the side without effort, clawing at his arms when they wrap around her neck until they bleed, her murderous intents for Oz only but not at all deterred by her brother getting in the way. 

Oz’s shirt is bunched up in her hands now as she comes back at him, eventually dropping to one while the other continues to calmly pry her brother off of her. 

“If you’re so interested in the collective living, then why didn’t you die, Oz?”

[pockydays]

kuroo x reader ; fluff ; lots and lots of it ; gn!reader ; 0.6k words

kuroo tetsurou, who never needs to look at the periodic table to remember the atomic masses for elements. he spends that time staring at you, apparently. but you wouldn’t know, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. (he swears it’s the prettiest back of anyone’s head he’s ever seen.)

kuroo tetsurou, who displays his goggle marks like a badge of honor to everyone in the class, but when you walk past him, he asks you if it's noticeable. (it accentuates his eye smile, you think, but you would never say that out loud.)

kuroo tetsurou, who ties his apron extra tightly before every lab just so he can ask you to help untie it after. you try not to look down any further when you're undoing that stupid knot — really, you do.

kuroo tetsurou, who hounds everybody who eats in the lab but asks you for a piece of gum every day. that's not strange at all, right? or, at least, that's what you tell yourself.

kuroo tetsurou, who swears his heart skips every time he sees you smile in triumph at your test grade. he wouldn’t mind if the teacher made more exams if it means he gets to see you smile every time. 

kuroo tetsurou, who takes the lead in his lab group when doing experiments, except when he’s assigned to one with you. you’re taken aback when the top student in the class asks you for your opinion on how to write the lab procedure, not knowing that it’s just an excuse for him to listen to you talk.

kuroo tetsurou, who pretends to not understand acid-base equilibrium just so he can ask you for help. it’s too late by the time you realize that he basically invited himself over to your house to talk about anything but chemistry for two hours straight.

kuroo tetsurou, who catches you staring at him instead of the solution in the flask when your lab group was doing titrations that one time. the corner of his lips tugs into a mischievous smirk, and your other group members yell at the two of you for overshooting the titration — by a very long shot.

kuroo tetsurou, who reaches his hand for the stopcock on the buret at the exact same time you do. thankfully, you manage to successfully complete the experiment this time, but not before you accidentally brush your hand with his. the shade his face turns almost matches the pink indicator, and this time, it’s your turn to smile wryly.

kuroo tetsurou, who asks you out to prom with an iodine clock reaction. somehow, he gets the entire class in on the secret (except you, of course). you say yes with a smile so stunning everything else pales in comparison.

kuroo tetsurou, who is extremely baffled at the fact that you can ace every one of your chemistry teacher’s tests but you still haven’t realized his feelings for you. it turns out he was wrong, because one day after class, you tell him about your year-long self conducted experiment. hypothesis? kuroo tetsurou is head over heels in love with me.

kuroo tetsurou, who gives you the last data point you need with a yes and a kiss. conclusion? you’re now dating the best kisser and lab partner in the entire world.

a/n: i apologize in advance for all the chemistry terms; i miss chem class so much and i’m still salty about my 4 on the exam </3

[tinisprout]

A Kiss to Remember

Pairing: Hyunjae x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pinning

Warnings: profanities like a lot, alcohol consumption, jokes of killing

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: After a kiss you spend a month of trying to figure out your own feeling you come to the conclusion that you like Hyunjae. You wonder how to deal with these feelings, especially when he doesn't feel that way about you, at least that's what you think.

a/n: Happy birthday Hyunjae Im a little late y'all don't mind that.

When you have been friends for so long is it better to just stay as such? Should I just bury these budding feelings before, it becomes something I can’t handle? I look at my hand, the one that casually reached out to him and had been reached out to by him many times before. It was only recently that holding him like that made my heart tickle. After today there is no denying my feelings, I like Hyunjae.

“So do I just cut them off or…,” I bite my lip struggling with a decision. How would I even go about stopping these feelings?! “Ugh, why does he suddenly have to be so appealing.” around a month ago after one of our nights out drinking, we somehow ended up making out. Sure we always lightly flirted with each other, but that’s just how we are, nothing was ever taken seriously like there was a line we knew that shouldn’t be crossed.

That night it was crossed, but I’m the only one that has any recollection of it happening. Hyunjae remembers nothing of that night and I’m left to deal with these complicated feelings. I didn’t tell him cause, whatever, it’s not like we have feelings for each other anyways. It’s just something that happened, I don’t have to make a big deal of it. That’s what I thought at first, then I noticed how my eyes started to linger on him.

For this past month, I’ve been trying to gauge these feelings for him, to say I like him after one measly kiss is too much. Now I know for sure, but what do I do now? How he acts towards me now is no different from how he’s always treated me, so it’s not like he looks at me in that way.

“No, this is not what I should be thinking about right now! I have to get ready, gotta go soon.”

Hyunjae’s birthday party is tonight, I can’t make today about me. I’ll just act like normal today, he’ll never know the difference.

***

Walking into the designated lounge room for Hyunjae’s party I was greeted by a few familiar faces and some unfamiliar. I was given a wave and nod by some of my friends before almost being knocked off my feet.

“Y/N! You’re finally here, I’ve been waiting for you!” Hyunjae throws himself into my arms giving me a tight squeeze. I freeze up and then remind myself that I should act naturally.

“And a hello to you too. Drunk already I see birthday boy,” I say tapping his back with one hand trying to not get too close. Jacob comes up offering a smile in greeting and I smile back.

“You need to control yourself,” Jacob says then pulling Hyunjae off me falling into his arms, and I thank him with a nod. Hyunjae struggles in Jacob’s hold wanting to break free, then Jacob whispers something in Hyunjae’s ears and he stops struggling, instead, slumping in his arms letting himself be dragged away back to his seat. Looking back to the rest of the table I see my best friend Sunwoo waving me over the free spot next to him. I take a seat and Sunwoo pulls me in giving me a side hug and I reciprocate, doing the same.

“So you want to tell me what that was all about?” He leans in whispering to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? I saw the way you blushed like a schoolgirl that was told they are cute by their crush when Hyunjae hugged you.”

“No way!” In shock, I pull away from Sunwoo rubbing at my forehead. I pretend I don’t see the eyes of everyone else go to me at my outburst, and get closer to Sunwoo, whispering again. “Was I that obvious?”

“So you’re admitting that there was something going on there?” He gives a sly smirk and I realize I’ve been had.

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah yeah, but why am I only hearing about this today?”

“Because I’ve only acknowledged it myself today.”

“Acknowledged it? Just how long have I been out of the loop and does that mean that the two of you are…?” He trailed off letting me fill in the blank.

“Nothing. This is all just one-sided, he should have no idea.”

“You’re fucking kidding me right?”

“What?” Sunwoo sighs at my words and wraps his arms around my shoulder again.

“I’m your bestie, right? I’m also Hyunjae’s friend, correct?”

“Yes, and?”

“Exactly. Now, look at Hyunjae. If anyone else was in my position with you, he would not be looking at us, like a sad frog, but glaring at the person in my place. You get it?” Hyunjae did have his stupid-looking frog face on display, but no, that probably cause he was reprimanded by Jacob.

“No, Hyunjae doesn’t see me like that.”

“Sure maybe at the start of your friendship he didn’t, but the way I see it is, there is a -2% chance that he doesn’t see you that way.”

“And the way I see it is that I shouldn’t even be thinking about this tonight. I just want to get through tonight without a problem, have some fun. I can figure out everything else later.”

"Okay, whatever. My friends are a bunch of oblivious morons." He mumbles the last part knowing damn well I can still hear him.

"Say that again mother fucker. I'll kill you.” I playfully shove Sunwoo and he pretends to be hurt.

“Yo chill!” The both of us laugh out loud and then there is the slamming of shot glasses by the two of us. I turn to see it was Hyunjae, he looks at me with a pout but doesn’t say anything.

“There is a drinking rule. Every time someone joins the party we gotta take a shot,” Jacob explains in Hyunjae’s place.

“Oh, so that’s why he is already smashed.” There was still a deal more empty seats left… is Hyunjae going to survive tonight? Everyone pours themselves a drink, the ones that got here were first looking a little sick while the rest of us were fine, we all down the drinks. The night continues with good vibes, till the last guest arrives with a plus one. Both are unfamiliar faces to me.

“Sorry I’m late, Hyunjae. Also thanks for letting me bring my sister, she really wanted to meet my friends.” The man and his sister wish Hyunjae a happy birthday and take the only seats left available which just so happened to be next to the birthday man himself. With the arrival of two new guests, everyone takes the mandatory shot. I could feel a little more than a buzz, but overall still fine.

The conversation was flowing as normal as everyone was having a good time. A few more drinks in when everyone was a little drunker, open, and comfortable things got a little more handsy. Whatever that’s what people do when they’re drunk, but I couldn’t notice just how handsy that new girl was getting with Hyunjae.

“Good lord, Y/N. Are you trying to kill her with your eyes?” Snapping out of it, I look to sunwoo how was laughing his ass off.

“I might be,” getting mad at myself for the silly words, I rub roughly at my forehead. “So stupid. I don’t have any right to be mad. He isn’t my boyfriend or anything.” The girl tries to casually grab for Hyunjae’s hand and I quickly look up groaning, “That should be me.”

“Damn, you’re down bad.”

“You’re right!” I pour myself another drink, downing it as fast as I can. “I hope I get so shwasted that I forget everything!”

“I take no responsibility for whatever happens tonight, but hell yeah!” Sunwoo takes another shot. The night continues smoothly and everything is jovial except for every time I see her take an advance toward Hyunjae. The party started to slow down and eventually, everyone came to the decision that they could handle no more, so that party came to an end after a few good hours of drinking. After everyone except Hyunjae split the bill, one by one the people started leaving the lounge.

“Jacob I require your assistance home!” Sunwoo shouts to his friend and neighbor. Jacob nods, ready to leave, getting drunk was never his favorite thing. Sunwoo gets up slinging his arm around Jacob for support, and the two boys say goodbye to their friends. “Get home safe loser and get some dick while you’re at it.”

“Fuck off!” Sunwoo laughs as he walks away with Jacob. Only me, the brother-sister pair, and Hyunjae were left. I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave while they were still here, I want to hang out more. The brother as if hearing my wish says it’s time they head home.

The two get up to leave and the girl looks visibly sad while I do a little dance in my head. I walk up to Hyunjae and he looks at me then stands up like he was waiting for me. When I hear them walk out the door I can feel a smile grow on my face. Finally, no more people.

“Ready to go back home?” I ask him.

“You’re going to walk me back? How romantic.”

“We live one apartment building away from each other, stop being dramatic.”

“But still I’m ha-” my eye dart towards the sound of the lounge room door opening and see the familiar girl closing the door behind her. I cover Hyunjae’s mouth with my hand while I use my other one, taking the back of his neck and pulling him closer to me. Our lips only separated by my hand. Surely it looked like we were kissing right now, Hyunjae’s body should cover up the fact that we aren’t. Just let your mind fill in the blanks girl.

A few seconds after I can hear the sound of the door opening and closing again and a high-pitched, “I’m sorry.” from the girl. I’m sorry too… actually no I’m not. I pull away from Hyunjae and he looks stunned.

“Did we just kiss?”

“No, we didn’t. You kiss my hand.”

“Oh.” My eyes were certainly deceiving me cause it looked like he was a little disappointed by my answer.

“Well, let go.” He hums in response and we walk out of the establishment. Suddenly he wraps his arm around me. This isn’t much of a surprise since he was a clingy drunk. The walk was quiet, which was unusual for Hyunjae, maybe he is tired

“Where is my present?”

“You realize that your present was the party bill, right? Do you know just how much you drank compared to everyone else? That shit wasn’t cheap.”

“Hehe, yeah that’s why I drank so much. You know as a broke college student free drinks taste a lot better than anything you pay for!”

“As a broke college student, you would know after that I wouldn’t be able to afford a normal present, so don’t complain.”

“Who said you had to buy the present? Even something small, as long as it’s from you.”

“Why are you like this?” This is really the man I’ve come to like. “Fine, I will do any one thing for you.” He is quiet for a while.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

“Okay, fine two!” he is silent again.

“Really anything?”

“Anything within reason. If you have a body hidden in your closet right now, I would go help you bury it.”

“Then… can I be your boyfriend for a day. If not then just for the rest of the day or just an hour...” I’m so dumbfounded by his words that I stop walking.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” He pulls away from me.

“Is that a no then?”

“I… Hyunjae, do you… like me?” He nods. “As a friend?”

“Yes, but more than that. I want to hold you all the time, kiss, and more.” He brings his hand up to his face trying to hide his embarrassment. It did nothing to hide how red his ears became.

“I like you too.” Hyunjae perked up at my words. Now I was feeling embarrassed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll accept your request.” He hugs me again as he did back at the party.

“Then my other request, can we go back to my place?”

“Are we going to do the “and more” stuff you were talking about?” He thinks for a moment and then goes red in the face.

“No! It’s too soon and I’m way too shit-faced right now anyway. I just want to hold you.”

“Good answer.”

***

In the apartment I was oh so familiar with, I lay in Hyunjae’s bed with his arms wrapped around me. My heart was pounding at first but I soon calmed, getting used to the new situation. The lights were off and we were ready to sleep. It was peaceful, but I had this one lingering question and worry in my head.

“Hyunjae?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you remember this in the morning?”

“Of course why would I forget?”

“Because you forgot that we kissed already.” Shocked by my words he shot up in his spot.

“We what?!”

“It was like a month ago. It’s whatever since you don’t remember.”

“...I’m sorry… was I good?”

“Shut up.” I pinch his side and he yelps.

“Okay jeez, I’m just joking. But is that when you started to like me?”

“Not exactly, but it did all develop from then. Why?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time and have been trying for almost a year to get you to notice me in that way. I didn’t expect you to say you liked me back, so I wanted to know when it changed. Ah, I’m glad I never gave up.” He laid back down, hugging me close again.

“Alright don’t kill me now,” he loosens his grip on me in response.

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won’t forget this time.”

“Hmm, I think you’re fresh out of requests.” He pouts, which is just the look I wanted to see from him.

“I’m messing with you, but just a little bit. If you really remember when you wake up them I’ll let you kiss me more, as my real boyfriend.”

“I’m going to remember and then I’m going to kiss you so much you’ll get sick of my affection!”

“Uh-huh, let’s just see if you can keep your word.” We both lean into each other and kiss, soft and passionate.

[omiscurls]

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. 

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two. 

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school. 

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes. 

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people? 

and so you didn’t. 

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less. 

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself. 

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love? 

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile. 

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy. 

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well? 

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully. 

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side. 

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization. 

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you. 

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him. 

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up. 

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Molly thinks that Bill’s and the reader relationship is a mistake so she wants them apart from each other. Bill’s against his mother wishes and he find a way to drag the reader into the Weasley family officialy

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi! Part 4 of this thing lol. I’m so happy that you guys like this story. It’ll have like 20 chapters or so, i’m still deciding that so yeah, that’s pretty much the thing. Btw, from now on chapters will be more interestings... i hope so lol. Again, english not my mother language. Please let me know if something’s wrong. Aaaaaand if you want to be tagged in the next chapters tell me and i will add you! Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Arguments

The rest of the afternoon passed as normal as the days before your arrival. Arthur Weasley made sure of it. Even if Molly attacked you with her dagger gaze when you and Bill hugged each other after you were done with dessert.

You didn’t know what Mr. Weasley had talked about with his wife while you were taking a shower, however, you noticed the tension rising from their bodies after you sat down at the table next to Bill and saw an annoyance sign on Molly’s lips. Her temple was frowned, reminding you of your own mother's gestures. Those flaming eyes, cleft chin, and pinion lips. Both women contract their features too much when they were upset and in your distress, you knew that they must not be disturbed.

The last thing you wanted was to hurt a marriage as solid as the Weasley's. More than once you heard your mother talk about it with your nanny making a powerful emphasis on how Molly and Arthur were able to carry out their marriage even if their economic conditions were precarious and the war was on their heels. They were an envied couple. Few dared to expand the family as much as they did without money in their pockets and spreading their progeny like a plague. No one was surprised, not even your mother, not when her marriage to Evan Grant was merely for financial advantage. Now Arthur and Molly looked upset, too upset for your understanding and you just hoped they could get along soon.

You weren't sure you deserved the sacrifice Bill's father had made for you, yet a flame of hope lit up in your chest. If Mr. Weasley started to trust you that was a good sign for others to do as well, right?

The afternoon continued as normal, seeing how Bill's plans to distract you from the fervent harassment of his mother was marred by the twins intervention. They had just finished a new product for their store and needed a good taster to certify the quality of their merchandise. It was a bad idea, he told himself, because twins were just a disaster and you didn't know them well enough to deny their good-natured pretensions.

"Be kind!" He yelled at them as Fred and George pulled you into their. Bill exhaled, pleading that his brothers wouldn't bother his girlfriend more than his mother already had.

Before taking you home, he thought about the pros and cons of your stay in the burrow. His conclusion was based on the fact that his entire family welcomed Harry Potter with open arms, so you didn't have to be the exception. He knew the difference in conditions in which his theory developed, yet he put his trust in the good judgment of his family even if the Grants' past left much to be desired. Bill didn't talk much about you with his mother, in fact, your presence at home was the last of his worries, the real problem came at the time of joining the Order of the Phoenix, would you be willing to fight against your relatives even if that mean betraying your own blood? Bill hope you will

Coming downstairs, Bill found his mother storing the leftover food in the fridge while the dishes soaked in the sink. Then he watched her clean each plate with her bare hands, no magic. William knew his anger was real.

"Want some help with that?"

"I'd love to, honey, thank you," his mother answered without looking at him. Bill raised the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, dipping his hands into the tide of water and bubbles that flew across the kitchen. Molly was silent, drying the dishes and flying them to her place in the display case across the kitchen. Bill cleared his throat doubtfully "It never hurts to help, much less when I have so many things to do before the rest of the Order arrive"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with that too."

"Perfect"

"Mom, can we talk?"

"About what?

"You know what," Bill clicked his tongue, passing her the last plate from the sink to continue with the spoons. "(Y/N)..."

"Your father has scolded me enough about that girl, I don't need you to do it too"

"I wouldn't if you had a little consideration with her."

"More consideration?" Molly asked in a squeak. Bill shook his head. "I'm letting her stay at my home!"

"Our home, mom, ours," he corrected, drying his hands with a cloth. "This house also belongs to my dad, my brothers, and me. It's the burrow, a family property, not a secret club where some people can get in and others cannot."

"You know what I think of her"

"And you know I don't care." Molly looked scandalized at her son. She didn't understand what he had seen in someone like you or what you had given him to come out and defend you as he did "I don't ask you to love her, but at least you have to try...

"Have you ever wondered what will happen when she betrays us?"

"That's not gonna happen"

"You're very sure of that, William"

"I'm convinced, Mom. You don't know her like I do and, you know what? I see that wanting to talk to you was a mistake"

"Moody thinks like me," Molly stopped him when Bill was ready to go upstairs. The woman clung to the railing watching her son standing in the first step out of the kitchen "(Y/N) Grant is a danger to the Order"

"Really? Like Mundungus Fletcher? I beg your pardon, mom, but if there is anyone who represents a latent danger to the Order of the Phoenix, it's him and yet you have assigned him for the mission tonight"

Molly's lips parted and if it weren't for the fact that Bill knew her mother too well, he might think the woman was about to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum. Still, she clenched the bars tightly, her brow furrowed, and the redness on her cheeks washed over her forehead.

"William!" Don't talk to me like that!"

"I wouldn't if you had a little more respect for my girlfriend."

"Don't you understand? I care about you! For all of us!" She snarled angrily. "Having a Riddle in this house..."

"A Grant, mom, (Y/N) is a Grant and that's not the same." Bill descended his steps, approaching her mother, returning that angry look that she had inherited from him. It was a strange sensation. A dyad of emotions between joy and fear where the composed emotion was guilt. He had never exploded that way with his mother, but Molly hadn't behaved that way with anyone either "His grandfather is Lord Voldemort's half-brother and his brothers are all Death Eaters, what does it matter? (Y/N) is not. And when do we judge others by where they come from? If so, we could start with half of us. Being a Weasley is equivalent to being a blood traitor"

"William!"

Molly's face went from fury to shock to fury again. Bill's eyes were twinkling and Molly swore she had never seen any of her children this angry, or worse, this determined.

"What would you have done, Mom?" Bill questioned taking his mother by his arms in an attempt to make him feel her despair. Molly opened her eyes, scared. "When your family tell you not to accept dad? When your brothers object to your engagement, just 'cause the Weasleys have long been considered blood traitors?"

For the first time that day Molly's mind went blank, Bill guessed, rewinding the memories of how difficult it was for the Prewetts to accept the marriage. Bill pleaded silently, but pulled away from her when his mother gave no indication to be a little more respectful with you.

"We aren't like that. We don't separate people by where they come from, we hug them" Bill resumed his way towards the stairs, stopping a couple of steps up, turning to take a look at Molly's stunned figure "As you did with Hermione, Remus and Harry when you and Dad became his godparents after Sirius died. (Y/N) is no different"

"She will turn her back on us when the Order fight the Grants. That moment will come and you know it"

"Don't worry, i'll make sure that doesn't happen"

"She is not part of this family"

"That can be solved very easily," he said and the smile he wore gave her a terrible chill down her spine. "Because I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

Molly's gasp was the only thing Bill heard before climbing the stairs and heading to the twins' room. He always respected his mother a lot and even thinking of opposing to her wishes was inconceivable, but your well-being was something that was involved and Bill couldn't just let her mother control his life at her will. Maybe the mistake he made was not telling his parents the truth about you from the start or, in that case, mentioning that the woman he loved was the fucking niece of the strongest fucking dark wizard of all time.

Bill Weasley rubbed his face as he reached the twins' door. He no longer had to torment himself, it was done and the only thing pending at the moment was to get Harry out of his uncles' house, take him safely to the burrow and find the courage to do what he told his mother he would do.

Would you agree to marry him? He hoped so and if not, he wouldn't pressure you. You were young - even a little younger than him - and it would be understandable if you refused to tie your life to someone else's from one moment to the other. The war progressed every day and if you were going to do it, you would do it as soon as possible.

Loud laughings brought him out of his thoughts to observe you and his brothers sitting on the floor, right in the center of both beds, laughing at each other and touching your faces. From the doorway Bill can't see the full painted room, however George's face showed a rather abstract mural full of bright colors when he felt the presence of his older brother. Fred did the same showing his face in the same situation and then you turned to Bill, still laughing and your face smeared with paint. It seemed the twins had created a paint bomb in millimeter pills, that explode when you put a little bit of pressure. You tried to clean yourself with the sleeve of your sweater but you spread the paint even more. Fred and George laughed and so did Bill.

His heart swelled with love as he saw that at least someone in his family - besides him and his father - had hope in you. God, he may have even cried with happiness.

Bill never understood how a sunshine as beautiful as you was never accepted in your entire life.

Tags:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

Thanks for the 100 followers!❤

[forever-rogue]

prompt request! “I’ve never been anyone’s anything.” “You’re everything to me.” - with Frankie 🥺

I hope you enjoy! I am so soft for Frankie!

Frankie x Fem!Reader

No Warnings

»»————-　♡　————-««

This was the hardest, no scratch that, worst time of the year.

It wasn't that you hated the holidays, no they weren't so bad themselves, it was just...everything else.

It was hard to constantly smile and be happy when you were single and alone during the holidays. Again. Year after painstaking year.

The whole single thing wasn't the worst part either, it was just...the fact that everything seemed to remind you of that seemingly the world was coupled up while you were by yourself. That and the fact that every family member in the world seemed to ask the same questions every year at your holiday gatherings.

Who are you seeing?

When are you settling down and getting married?

When are you going to have children?

The whole lot of it was enough to exhaust you, mentally, spiritually, and physically and often maybe you contemplate avoiding you any holiday gathering all together. Yet you still managed to drag yourself to them and get through it all, plastering on a fake smile as you politely answered their questions. Your answers were always short and to the point, but you still remained polite...despite the fact that you wished the ground would swallow you up whole.

Maybe this year you would just skip everything. But then you'd have to answer as to why you weren't with the family. Shit.

It was a catch-22.

But there was another idea that quickly crossed your mind. It wasn't the best, you probably should have just let it go, but something inside you was just nagging at you and telling you to do it.

Before you knew it, your phone was in hand and you had dialed Frankie's number. Sometimes you were beyond thankful for your best friend.

"Hey bee," he answered after a few rings, his voice immediately soft and gentle, causing your heart to settle and a sense of peace wash over you.

"Hi Frankie," immediately a sense of unease and nerves washed over you as you realized just exactly what you were asking of him. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh and decided to just do it. It was now or never, "can I ask you for a favor? Kind of a big one..."

"Shoot," you could hear a note of concern in his voice as he came to the conclusion that something was up, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "I just...will you come with me to my family's holiday party next weekend?"

"Of course," he laughed lightly; it was a weird thing of you to ask him or completely out of the blue, he would often go with you to family things.

"Umm, there's a catch," you blurted, "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

"Oh. Oh?" a stunned silence met you on the other end.

"Yeah," you feigned a laugh, hoping he wouldn't suddenly back out, "its just that...I don't know if I can handle another year of everyone asking me why I'm single and whatnot. They already know you and love you so it would be easy."

"Okay," he answered after a few awkward, tense beats of pause, "yeah, we can...we can definitely do that."

"Thank you so much, Frankie," you let out a sigh of relief, "I owe you big time. I love you so much!"

"Yeah...just let text me all the details later," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "umm, I have to go now. I'll talk to you later."

"Sounds good," you already felt so much better, "talk to you soon!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time your family Christmas party rolled around, you were feeling an odd mixture of emotions. Happy, because you wouldn't be alone and your best friend would be by your side. Relieved that you could dodge the annoying questions from your family. And yet, you were also feeling a sense of...nerves?

As you prepared to go, taking a long hot shower and indulging in some self care an odd sense washed over you. Slipping on the pretty dress you'd picked out, hoping Frankie would like it too, you suddenly found yourself nervous realizing that he was the cause of your nerves. Although only posing as your boyfriend for the night, part of you couldn't help but wonder would it be like if he really was your boyfriend. You wished he was; you wished you could call him yours. But no; he was just your handsome friend that you were hopelessly in love with.

Bummer.

As you finished doing your hair and make up to just how you liked it, a knock came at your door before Frankie opened it and announced himself.

"In here!" you called out to him as you listened to his heavy footfalls, taking a deep breath to steady and remind yourself that was just your best friend. Nothing more and nothing less.

But as you sat finished putting in your earrings, you heard the creak of the floor followed by a small, "wow."

"Hi Frankie," you turned and offered him a smile before almost losing whatever bit of cool you had at the sight of him. He was handsome as ever, dressed in a well fitting pair of pants and button up, his dark curls styled elegantly and not hidden under his signature hat for once. He was perfection.

"Wow yourself, Frankie," you beamed at him, "you look wonderful - handsome."

"This?" a tinge of pink flushed his cheeks as he tried to play off your compliment, "its nothing much...but thank you."

"I'll just be a minute and then we can go," you went to back to the mirror and studied yourself, making sure you looked exactly how you wanted. It was hard to keep your eyes off of Frankie; he looked so handsome and sweet it was almost hard to define the line between remembering he was a friend and wanting nothing more than to have him. Instead you tried to focus on your reflection, "thanks again for doing this Frankie. I owe you big time, maybe dinner and movie marathon this weekend? I'll even let you pick the movies."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "that sounds good. Umm...can I ask you something?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Why me? Why do you even need a fake boyfriend to bring? You've gone alone or with me as friends..." his question made your heart stop as you looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. He looked just as confused as you felt.

"Firstly, why not you? You're my best friend, and we both know you're a total catch," you turned around and held out your hand as if to say obviously, "and I dunno. I just can't handle another year of being ambushed with questions about why I'm single and how I'll end up as a spinster. I'd just like it to be different for one year...to feel like I actually mean something to someone. Even if it just for a night."

"What do you mean?" an offended and upset look crossed his features as he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him. You said too much. Too damn much and now you felt like a fool that was just about to cry, "do you have any clue how much you mean to me? And so many others?"

"I know, obviously you're my best friend," you feigned a weak laugh as you tried to work your way around this conversation, "I lo- care about you too. Tremendously. But I mean...I've been never been anyone's anything. I've never had someone love and care for me, its always been a boyfriend or so here and there but nothing real. And I know its stupid to be so upset about it, but for just one night I want to feel like maybe I could be that for someone. Maybe one day I will...I dunno, Frankie. I probably sound like an idiot. Either way...I just...thank you."

Before you could move away or do anything, Frankie gently, ever so tenderly, reached up and wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You allowed your gaze to meet his and found yourself staring at wide, nervous eyes.

"I can't believe you think that about yourself little bee," he whispered quietly, "you are everything to me. Everything."

"Frankie-"

"Listen, please, just let me say what I have too or I'm afraid I never will," he slid his hands down your arms and let himself inhale and exhale deeply. There was a best of silence before he steadied himself, "I am so in love with you. I have been for a long time...I just never...I couldn't bring myself to say it. But I have never just thought of you a friend."

"You don't have to-"

"I mean it," he insisted as he took your hand and pulled you closed to him, "I wish I would have told you a long time ago. But I couldn't just listen to you say these things when they're not true."

"Frankie..." you paused as you looked at your entwined hands, contemplating your next action. You brought your other hand to his cheek, gently touching his skin. There was a moment of hesitation before you decided to dive right in and kiss him.

It was a slow, sweet thing as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your frame against his. A hand was around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head as you carded a hand through his dark locks. It was like there was no learning curve, no trying, just like it was meant to be. When you pulled apart, both of you reluctantly, you couldn't help the megawatt grin that was on your face. The matching one on Frankie's face was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your belly.

"I umm...I love you, Frankie," you stated the obvious as the two of you laughed, "I guess that's kind of obvious, huh?"

"I like hearing it," he admitted as you felt a flush of warmth run over your face, "why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Nervous," you both admitted at the same time. You shook your head, wishing you hadn't been such a fool for so long. But before you could lament anything, Frankie quickly captured your lips for another kiss, this one almost shy, but still saccharine.

"You better stop because I could get used to that," you teased as he just grinned.

"I will kiss you every day then," he promised, "and then some."

"I'd like that," you agreed, "I'd like that a lot."

"You're not the only one," he reached for your jacket and helped you put it on, "but we better go before we're late. You know how your mom gets."

"Is it bad I don't want to go? Can we just stay here instead?"

"Don't you want to go and introduce everyone to your boyfriend?" he said with another gentle peck, "I'm sure they're dying to know who it is."

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" you agreed as you helped straighten his shirt, "are you free after? Tonight?"

"For you? Always, mi vida," he promised as he kissed the top of your head, "now let's go and have fun. Everything else can wait for later."

"Hey Frankie?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you," you whispered softly as he seemed to melt at your words.

"I love you too, bee. Always and forever."

[quietmyfearswith]

would've been you ; steve rogers x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,477 words

summary — in which steve rogers pretends to be in a relationship in order to get his ex to stop pestering about his life.

warnings —swear words, fluff?? mentions of blood and bruising, angst?? insecurities, implied smut

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader

a/n — italics are the flashbacks,,, and would you believe it's been a fat minute since i've written about steve rogers??? so i hope i bring his character justice lmao,, also this is my take on the fake dating au so i would really appreciate some feedback and asks/messages are open! if you follow me, please state your age/age range in your bio. i will block you if you follow me and don’t have your age/age range in your bio!!!

tagging —​ @la-cey​ @pedropcl​ @isysen​ @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“There you are, doll!” Steve cheerily yelled, pausing his current conversation with Sharon. Walking over to Y/N, he kissed her cheek and took advantage of the fact that his back was facing Sharon and whispered in her ear, “Play along with it, please.”

Sensing the desperation in his tone, she nodded in her head and plastered a smile on her face, “Where have you been, doll?” The way he called her doll had her biting the inside of her cheek as she had to remind herself that this was all just a ruse and so she went along, “I’m sorry ‘bout that, honey,” She raised the folders that contained important mission intel, “Had to run these over by Fury first.”

Draping an arm over Y/N’s shoulder, he then turned to Sharon and smiled at her, “Oh Sharon, I don’t think I’ve told you yet but me and Y/N have been dating for quite a while now.” The girl being addressed to tilted her head a bit  — she was silently analyzing the pair’s compatibility and after a few silent seconds she somewhat came to the conclusion that they were somewhat a good couple — before smiling, “Well good for you both! Thought that our breakup was too harsh on you, Steve.”

Y/N had to hold back a chuckle at Sharon’s seemingly innocent remark; but Steve could only scoff, “Well it was harsh, until I was with my beautiful doll.” She felt his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of her head and she didn’t know the reason behind her snuggling herself to Steve’s side — was it because she was playing along? Or was it due to the warmth his body was radiating made her relax and seek more of that comfort.

“Since you have a girl,” It creeped Y/N out when Sharon wiggled her eyebrows as she said the word girl, “You wouldn’t mind going to my Valentine’s party then?” The Avenger took the invite she held out. “A Valentine’s party? Wouldn’t that be a bit condescending?”

Chuckling at her question, Sharon just waved them off, “Oh no! I don’t think it will be. Plus, me and Mark just love celebrating every holiday or festival!” She checked her phone and realized she had somewhere else to be, she waved off as she bid adieu, “I’ll see you both okay? Bye!”

“Be sure to invite us for your St. Patrick's Day party, okay?” Y/N sarcastically reminded her as Steve genuinely laughed out loud. Once Sharon was out of their sight, he grabbed her hand and led her into his office so they could discuss privately.

“What the fuck was that, Steve?” Y/N yelled at him once they both were inside his soundproof office. “I’m sorry! I had to do so,” Steve explained, his blue eyes evidently expressed stress, “Sharon suddenly had me cornered and was asking about how I was after we broke up.”

“So you decided to tell her that we were dating?!”

“No!” His answer had her confused as she tilted her head back to stare at him in disbelief, “Well, not necessarily that we were dating.”

“I feel like I’m owed more than that; so explain yourself clearly, Rogers.” Y/N crossed her arms and looked at him dead serious in the eye; sighing to calm himself down, Steve then closed his eyes before slowly opening them as he explained to her, “She asked me how I was doing post-breakup and I said I was doing well. Her nosey self wasn’t satisfied with that answer and inquired further if I was dating anyone.”

“Then you told her you were seeing me?” Y/N predicted and was surprised when Steve shook his head, “I vaguely told her that I was dating someone already.”

“But she kept on pestering you for a name and face?” She giggled as Steve rolled his eyes but nodded to answer her question, “You were the first dame to pass by and thought that maybe she’d piss off once she saw that I indeed have someone.”

Snatching the invite that he held, she read through the details of the party they were invited to as she chuckled, “Then it looks like we have a party to attend to on the 14th, hm?”

“What?” Now it was the super soldier’s turn to be stunned; he thought that it was only a one time thing where they had to pose in front of Sharon as a couple. “We’re going to the Valentine’s party?”

Pursing her lips together as she looked at him as if he lacked common sense, Y/N answered, “Well, duh. Wouldn’t it be odd if you attended the party alone when she clearly invited us both?”

He understood her point, but what he failed to recognize is why she was willing to pose as his partner when they weren’t together, in any way. “You’re on board with this whole fake dating thing?”

“Okay for one, don’t flatter yourself,” She defended as she caught herself thinking that maybe he thought that this was her way of living some fantasy where they were a real couple, “Two, you said it yourself — Sharon’s not gonna stop bothering you. Why not just ride along with whatever she’s playing, yeah?”

Her reasons made sense to Steve and he jabbed at her too, “Plus, you did seem interested with what her Valentine’s party looked like.” As he mentioned the ridiculously themed party she burst out in a fit of giggles as she raised the invitation to their eye level and said, “Well it does state that we both have to wear either red or pink.”

“I knew you were dumb, but I didn’t know you were this dumb,” Bucky stated as he placed the weights Steve lifted against the parallel bar dips of the gym bench. Lifting himself off the inclined seat, the blonde Captain glared at his best friend, “You and I both know I’m not dumb! Who was it that pieced together quickly that he wasn’t in the 40’s the moment he woke up?”

Rolling his eyes, the brunette flicked Steve’s ear as he drank some of his energy drink, “Well you’re dumb enough to engage in a fake relationship with the woman you’ve been in love with for a few years now.”

The captain was quick to swat his friend’s thigh to silence him; his blonde locks moved left and right as he looked sideways — making sure no one heard his deepest secret exposed supposed best friend. “Keep it down, will you?”

The former Winter Soldier could only chuckle as he watched Steve prepare his things as they both had reached the end of their workout, “But still, are you sure this plan won’t backfire and blow up all over your face?”

Truthfully, Steve hadn’t considered that yet, “Honestly? I don’t know.” After a few silent seconds, Bucky knew the look that his friend was sporting so he fished for more answers, “But?”

“But I’m hoping something good will come out after this whole ordeal,” Steve quietly admitted with a sigh as he rested his back against the cold, metal walls of the elevator. Bucky took the time to study his friend’s facial features; it was amazing how at the mere thought of being with Y/N instantly relaxed him. “I hope the same for you, pal.”

Midway through the elevator’s journey to their floor, it rang softly as it halted, and the doors opened to reveal Y/N, “Hey you two!” When she entered the small box, Steve stood up straight as he smiled at her, “Hi doll, how are you?”

With the metallic palm pressing against his lips, Bucky stifled his amused laughter with how dumbfounded his friend was; he could see the miniscule beads of sweat and nervousness appear behind Steve’s facade as he faced the girl of his dreams and he couldn’t wait to tell this tale to Sam. Unaware of what was previously going on, the only girl in the space smiled warmly, “Drop the act Steve, Sharon’s not here,” She turned to Bucky and greeted him too, “How was the workout, Sarge?”

“It was great! Also got to help out some of the other recruits who were struggling,” Steve’s mind was foggy as the two conversed as he silently reflected on what she said to him. Drop the act? Did she think that him being nice to her was just part of their stunt? She must not have any idea of how much she really means to me then, he concluded.

Upon hearing her say, “Well I did know you were a better combat fighter than Steve,” To his best friend snapped him out of his deep thought. “Excuse me? Did you say I wasn’t better than Buck?”

“Uh oh,” Bucky warningly mocked as Y/N laughed at Steve’s pout; she brushed his cheek with her palm to comfort him, “Don’t worry honey, I still know that you’re skilled enough to sweep me off my feet.”

The elevator chimed softly, serving as a cue for Y/N that she was already on the floor where she needed to be. Before stepping off the box, she winked at Steve, “Bye boyfriend, see you later.” Steve was grateful for the elevator’s timing as he watched her exit for his cheeks got all red as he replayed the earlier events in his mind.

The brunette, of course, noticed the dreamy state his friend was in and didn’t hesitate to poke fun at him, “Two sentences and she got you all flustered and blushing? Man, can’t wait to tell this to Sam.” Bucky huffed out as Steve hit his chest with the back of his palm before exiting the elevator once they were on the floor of their living quarters, “Shut the hell up, jerk.”

“Yeah? Well you’re one coward punk!”

“What’s the emergency?” Steve wondered as he entered Y/N’s office after receiving a text from her that demanded his presence immediately; though it was a vague text which read;

My office, ASAP. We have an emergency.

He quickly concluded his meeting, worried at the thought  that something might have happened to her. However, as she walked from her couch and greeted him, “We haven’t talked about what we’re going to wear for the party!”

“Seriously?” Steve deadpanned as he chuckled lightly, Y/N mocked his amusement as she nodded, “I am!” She held the invitation between her fingers, “The invite said we have to wear either red or pink. But couples were encouraged to wear something that matched.”

After his amusement died down, he then placed the weight of his chin on his palm, “And what are you proposing we wear to the party?” With that she gleefully skipped to the coffee table, where she carried the hangers and showed to him the outfits she bought — she bought him a pink, strawberry-themed long sleeve; while she bought herself a dress of the same design and color.

“This one?” He held the cloth of the top he was supposed to wear, “We’re wearing this to the party?” Sheepishly, she nodded as she swayed a little bit, “Okay, they were a bit self-indulgent,” Steve snorted and she glared at him as she continued, “But hey! This fits the dress code; it’s pink and we’ll be matching too!”

Scratching the back of his neck, he thought about it and was extremely on the fence on whether he should wear it; apparently he took too long to respond as Y/N huffed out as she sat on the couch with a pout as she crossed her arms, “And here I was willing to help you in your dilemma and yet you can’t do this small thing for me.

Sitting beside her, he poked her sides and to no avail, “Hey, come on now. Don’t be like that,” He wrapped his arms around her figure and he felt her still in his arms but ultimately relaxed as she leaned back to his chest and looked at him with a pout, “What?”

“I always wanted to wear this dress,” She confessed as she played with his fingers that were tapping on the skin of her stomach, “And you know, the party seemed like the perfect occasion to do so.” She peered up at Steve, his chin almost resting on the top of her head, “Don’t worry, I can change what we’re gonna wear. Would matching sweaters work for you?”

With a serious expression, he shook his head, “We’re not going to the party wearing sweaters.” She gasped out but it was short-lived as he smiled and kissed her forehead, “We’re gonna be wearing these pretty heart outfits.”

Her whole face lit up and she smiled brightly as she enclosed his neck with his arms, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” It surprised them both when she planted a soft kiss on his clean-shaven cheek, “I’m really thankful that you want to dress up in those hideous outfits.”

Stroking her back, he shook his head, “They’re not hideous; I know for a fact that you will look even more lovely once you wear that dress,” Images of what she would look like as she wore the dress filled his mind, and she looked jaw-dropping.

After relishing in the contented silence they shared before Steve tapped her forearms, “Okay, doll. Need to go now,” He thought of how he needed to call back some of the officials he dismissed at the meeting he was earlier in, “I’ll pick you up at 6pm tomorrow, okay?”

Nodding her head, she too stood up and handed the garment to him, “Don’t forget this.” Snatching the fabric from her, he winked at her before leaving her to her company, “See you then, doll.” And that mention of the nickname, she felt himself melting like ice cream.

“So this is what a Valentine’s-themed look like,” Steve noted as he took a sip of the red, sugary drink being offered at one of the tables as Y/N snickered after taking a bite of the chocolate-strawberry, “Still a bit condescending, and damn is it too pink and red!”

Around them, there were a litter of red, pink, and gold balloons taped to the wall; while there  were pink streamers attached to the back of the chairs and heart-shaped stickers littered the room — as if to mock those who weren’t in any way experiencing an overwhelming amount of love. Steve laughed at her comment and was about to sip more of his drink when he noticed that Sharon was approaching them; he draped an arm around Y/N’s lower back, pulling her in closer to him until their bodies touched, as he continued to drink his beverage.

“Hey guys, how are you enjoying the party?” When she stood tall and proud in front them, it nearly blinded the two as she was donning a sparkly, sequined pink dress that screamed “Valentine disco ball.”

“We’re enjoying it,” Y/N managed to get out without squinting her eyes too much and with a convincing fake smile, “I do have to say you have great tastes in sweets,” She raised the half-eaten strawberry she was munching on. The blonde girl laughed as she nodded her head, “Well Mark has a sweet tooth so of course I have to indulge him.”

Steve was about to remark about how Mark was on their brief exchange upon their arrival but was quickly cut off by his ex’s questioning, “So tell me, how did you two become an official couple?” The fake couple looked at each other as they stammered out a coherent response as they stared at each other, getting lost in each other’s beautiful eyes.

“I mean, I knew about how Steve had this miniscule crush on you,” Sharon stating that casually made them snap out of their haze and focus on the blonde, “He might have confessed that early on in our relationship.”

“I’m sorry?” Y/N wasn’t sure why that was what she said but Sharon quickly waved it off, “It’s fine, really. I too had a crush on someone when we were together — who can resist Keanu Reeves, am I right?”

The two girls chuckled — Y/N genuinely laughed this time as she too draped her arm around Steve’s lower back, somewhat to ground herself — and once they both calmed down, Sharon returned to her questioning, “So really, what’s your story?”

“Well it started after a rough mission, after our breakup,” Steve recalled which caught the attention of both women. Anticipating his recollection, they watched him with eager eyes and silent mouths, encouraging the Avenger to carry on, “I was punching some bags in the gym until I was bleeding. Then Y/N showed up and from there we were inseparable,” He paused for a while before looking on his the mentioned girl and smiling softly at her, “You might not remember it, doll.”

“I do, actually,” She retorted softly, before turning to Sharon as she recounted what happened from her point of view;

“Don’t think punching that bag will change the mission’s outcome,” Y/N’s voice echoed through the empty room of the gym; it also caused Steve to halt his assault on the object and smirking to her, “It won’t, but it might change how I currently feel.”

Walking over to him, she sat on the nearest bench from where he was standing as she stated out loud her observation, “Come over here and let me treat your bleeding.” He gave her a firm look which was his tell that he was about to pull the “I’m a super soldier” card; but he hasn’t even got out a syllable out before she shut him up, “Super soldier or not, you can die of loss of blood, you know?”

Sighing and rolling his eyes, he walked over while removing the punching gloves before moving to sit beside her. Her fingers peeled off the tape he covered his knuckles in that were now sticky with both sweat and blood, “Jesus, Steve, how dumb can you be?”

“Is that a challenge?” He snickered but it quickly died down to a hiss as she applied a liquid ointment on his knuckles before dabbing it with cotton, “Sorry,” She apologized with a meek smile, “But no, I have mission reports dating back to the 40’s to prove how impulsive you can be.”

They sat there in silence for a few minutes as she was treating his hands before Y/N spoke up, “Do you need someone to listen to and comfort you? Or someone who can give you solutions?” Steve lifted his gaze from his bruised knuckles to her gentle eyes, “What?”

She smiled softly at him before resuming in bandaging his knuckles, “I know for a fact that the mission isn’t the only thing that got you all worked up.” She didn’t have to say it, but it was evident that she knew about his and Sharon’s break up.

“So you’ve heard about it then?” His inference had her smirking at him as she placed her hands on her thighs after finishing up on his hands, looking at him incredulously, “The proper question is who hasn’t? I bet only Scott and Hope don't because they’re on that mission in New Zealand.”

A chuckle erupted from his chest with the manner she was being honest with him, “I guess I just like having someone not looking sorry for me or offering sympathy with the whole ordeal,” Every time someone mentioned the breakup they were all sympathetic to him and it was refreshing to be with someone who somehow found humor in his rather sad situation, “So I like how you feel nor display neither.”

He didn’t have to say it as well, but she got the faint hint that he needed a good laugh just to forget about everything and she was more than glad to do so, “Since we’re being honest, why don’t you go for a quick shower? You’re starting to smell from the 40’s already.”

Her remark had him gasping as he placed a hand on his chest, slightly offended but was still in a playful mood, “Oh? And what do I get once I smell like more of this century?”

She stood up and smirked at him as she was strutting away to leave him shower, “Gonna show you a good time, cap. Just text me once you’re done, yeah?”

“You naughty minx! You too did it right away?” Sharon excitedly concluded, invested with the blossoming relationship of her ex-boyfriend — Y/N thought it was unusual how a person would genuinely be interested in their former partner’s well-being, but this was better than her treating her with spite.

Steve laughed loudly as he shook his head, “Sharon! No! We didn’t do what you’re thinking.” His statement had her confused as she pouted and whined for answers, “Well she said she would show you a good time? What else am I supposed to think?”

“I drove him out to this amusement park and on the way home took him to this karaoke dive bar thing,” Y/N clarified and nuzzled the side of her face to Steve’s arm upon remembering how hard and loud Steve laughed throughout the day.

Upon the mention of the bar they went to, Steve placed his now empty glass on one of the tables as he fished his wallet out and got one of the many photo strips they took on the bar’s photo booth, “I even made sure to keep these, as a reminder of our first unofficial date.”

Sharon cooed as she looked at their adorable poses; but Steve and Y/N were both staring into each other with longing and love in their eyes, and yet neither of them could bring themselves into saying it to each other.

“Oh shit, Mark’s calling me,” Sharon said as she hastily said goodbye to them as she was approaching her boyfriend, “Enjoy yourselves okay?” They both nodded to her and told her to go to beau as they would be fine by themselves.

“Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes, please,” Steve chuckled at her immediate response; tucking the strip containing their pictures in his pocket, he grabbed her hand, holding onto it tightly as he sneakily led to exit the party.

For a while, they were just walking down the street with their tangled hands swaying as they both silently took in earlier events. “So, you kept all those strips of photos we took?” Seeing as he nodded bashfully, she scoffed, “We must have inserted over a dozen quarters that night! Do you know how many photo strips that could be?”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to look at those photos — let alone have a copy — since it served as a painful relic of a night filled with fun and spontaneity. And she feared that it was all a dream and that it wouldn’t be once again replicated.

“And I kept every single one of them,” Unlike his bashful demeanor earlier, his tone was now firm and confident. They both paused their walking as they were by the park, that was thankfully not crowded at this time of the day.

“Why?” Y/N hated how she sounded so weak, which was far from how confident her tone was whenever she held meetings for SHIELD or the Avengers. Steve smiled at her with the fondness that he never thought he had, “Because if I were to choose my soulmate, it would’ve been you.”

In a state of disbelief, Y/N rapidly shook her head while she shakily protested, “But you were with Sharon,” She was struggling to unclasp her hand with Steve’s; but he wasn;t letting her do so as he held onto hers firmly, “You wanted her, possibly loved her. There’s no way you could want me.”

He understood her point, but he had his own and wanted to make it clear; he grabbed both her hands firmly and placed a kiss on her knuckles before speaking, “If there’s one thing I learned from this generation, is that sometimes we date and put ourselves out there to learn more about one’s self.”

She was unsure with where he was going, so she decided to let him talk, “And in my short stint of being with Sharon, I came to the conclusion that I’ll always want you.” His hand let go of hers as he brushed his hand from her temple to the crown of her head, “I know that you will always have the most beautiful hair that I have ever seen.”

The hand traveled to the front of her face, brushing gently the side of her eyelids, “One with the most expressive and wonderful eyes,” His thumb and pointer finger then playfully and gently squeezed the bridge of her nose, “The cutest nose.”

With a deep breath, he planted his hand  at the nape of her neck, pulling her into a soft, passionate kiss. His lips formed a smile when he felt that she relaxed into the kiss enough that she too reciprocated the vigour he had. Steve could feel the hairs on his back raise as he felt her warm hands on them; she suddenly felt the need to feel more of him as their lips and tongues passionately danced together.

“If this is your definition of a joke, I will have you removed from being an Avenger,” He thought of it as an empty threat but she was dead serious; he chuckled from where their lips were touching as they rested from kissing.

His hands were on her chin, getting her to look up at him, “This isn’t a joke, doll, I promise. This is me, putting myself out there for the woman I have grown to love and admire. Hoping that she will allow me to be her boyfriend.”

She loved seeing the boyish, hopeful smile he sported; she laid a quick peck on his lips before answering, “I’d love for you to be my boyfriend, Steve.”

In the spur of the moment happiness, Steve yelled out loud as he twirled Y/N around and dipped her, as if they were dancing. “Steve! Put me back up!” She squealed when he kissed her as he put her back to stand back up on her feet. “Sorry doll, ‘m just extremely happy.”

Bopping his nose, she teased him, “Just said yes to us being a couple, I don’t recall telling you I love you yet,” She then mockingly wondered out loud, “What more would your reaction be if I do say those three little words, hm?”

Sensing that she was challenging him, he smirked as he draped his arm around her shoulder, resuming their walk back to the compound as Steve said, “Well I too know how to show you a good time; and I bet after that you’re gonna be telling me how much you love me.”

[narratingvoice]

Sighs heavily* no dear, I was hoping you'd reach this conclusion by yourself, but the answer isn't some mobius strip of consciousness. It is true, factually that you are not the creator, but that you are something else entirely. You are the Parable's heart. It's still-beating esscence that permeates it's corridors breathing life into these halls. From the moment the game boots to the moment it shuts down you are the person that guides us, enriches us, and wraps us in your voice on such a visceral level that the experience is barely even discernable at all in your absence. People have muted you, you know, but then the game itself becomes soulless. You are the soul and are the only reason your work you live in carries any weight at all. I can tell you stories from your production if you'd like, about those parents I spoke of, putting you together with dedication and love. But please, know you are the very embodiment of the Stanley Parable we know and love. Not the hands that made it. I think being art itself is a beautiful thing, you living painting, and I mean that in the best possible way.

I'm. That's. You really mean it? That's maybe the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said about me. I'm stunned. I legitimately don't know what to say. This feeling swelling up inside me, it's.... sublime. Like finding a warm fire in the middle of a cold, dark journey. Like I can see things clearly for the first time. I've never been a religious person, but I think this is what they call an epiphany. Is this feeling what you've been trying to convey to me all along? Why was I so afraid of this? Oh Stanley, I'm so sorry, I should have listened to you so much sooner.

Imagine that, to become art itself! Every artist's dream is to achieve a form of immortality through their legacy. Screw ensuring my legacy, I am the legacy! I shall live on as long as people have fond memories of the Parable. Someone needs to put this game in a gallery so people can come and see us for generations to come. I love each and every person who has ever enjoyed my story, and I want to spread that love as far as possible through space and time. And Stanley certainly deserves to be adored too, he's the real star after all.

Not sure I want to hear your stories just yet. It's all very overwhelming and kind of weird to even know their names. I think I'll ask the Curator what she knows first; I'm pretty sure she's in the same boat as me so we can figure things out together. Not sure how I feel about the "parent" analogy either. I mean I've certainly never thought of Stanley as being my son; that would make my treatment of him wildly inappropriate. Give me some time to get back to you on that.

[wrenhyperfixates]

A Perfect Proposal

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: In which you propose to Loki. Warnings: Did anyone order fluff? Well, here you go :) A/N: Sending love out into the world for anyone who needs it. If you’re feeling down on yourself and like no one will want you (as so many of us oft think) just remember your real life Loki isn’t as far away as you think :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“I love you, dearest,” Loki said, placing a small kiss to your temple.

“I love you, too,” you replied. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life and every moment after.”

“I feel the same way.”

Unfortunately, for as much as he insisted that, Loki had yet to take the next step in your relationship. He’d been your boyfriend for nearly two years now, and you were both madly in love with the other. You honestly had no doubts about that at this point, but it was frustrating being stuck where you were, nonetheless. There wasn’t even anything wrong with your relationship, per se, but it had been the same thing for a while now. The problem was that you loved him so much, you wanted more. Marriage. You’d talked about it a while ago, and he seemed open to the idea, but he had yet to pop the question. With all the hints you’d been leaving recently, you thought he would have asked by now. There was nothing else you could do short of asking him yourself.

“That’s it,” you gasped, jumping up from the couch. “Sorry, Loki. I gotta go. I’ll see you later, ok?”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying off to find your friends, leaving a very confused god in your wake. Zooming into another common room, you found them locked in concentration on an intense game of MarioKart.

“Bucky, Wanda, Nat. Important announcement,” you said to get their attention.

“One second,” Bucky shushed. “I’m about to win.”

“In your dreams,” Wanda snickered.

You impatiently tapped your foot as you let them finish the final lap, about ready to burst with excitement from your idea. Bucky and Wanda both groaned as Nat snatched the win at the last second.

“And that is how it’s done,” she said high-fiving you. “Now, what’s the emergency?”

“I’m going to propose to Loki.”

Wanda squealed in excitement and threw her arms around you in a hug. “That’s awesome! I’m proud of you!”

“Thanks, but before I can go through with this, I’m going to need a ring.”

And so, your little band of friends snuck out of the Tower and headed to a jewelry shop in the city. You were marveling at all the beautiful bands, as your friends argued over which one would be best. They all had different ideas about what you should get, though you didn’t really have a clue yourself. You were sure you would know it when you saw it.

“I’m telling you, this is the best one,” Bucky insisted, holding up an antique ring.

“Are you crazy? It’s so worn. No offense, but who would want that one?” Nat said.

“Steve would like it,” he murmured.

“How about this one?” Wanda called.

She pointed to a slim, ebony black band in the display case. It was understated, yet pretty. You considered the shiny trinket for a moment. It seemed like something Loki would like, and yet it wasn’t quite right. Continuing to walk through the store and take in the countless options, something in your peripheral vision caught your attention. Your head snapped back to it, and you let out an audible gasp.

“This is the one,” you declared.

Your friends came rushing over to see. The ring was fashioned as a gold, double-headed snake with emeralds as eyes. Far from a typical engagement ring, but you and your boyfriend weren’t much for conventional.

“We’ll take it,” you told the chipper store clerk.

To thank your friends for their help, you treated them to some coffee. As you sat in the cafe, you began to obsess over how to propose to Loki, though they insisted you were overthinking it. They were acting as if it were easy to speak from the heart. Then again, Loki was the love of your life, so maybe the right words would just flow out in the moment. Still, you’d like to have some kind of general outline.

Your planning was cut short by your ringtone, and you knew it must be Loki as he was the only one who bothered with calling anymore. Everyone else just texted, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to do that yet. You had to admit, his ineptitude with technology was kind of cute.

“Dearest, can you hear me?”  he asked. “Is this accursed magic box working?”

“Yes, my love,” you laughed. “It’s working just fine.”

“Very good. I was wondering if you would accompany me to dinner this evening. Say, 7:30, the balcony where we first met?”

“Absolutely.”

You remembered meeting Loki as if it had only just happened moments ago. You’d heard the stories of the monster he’d been at the Battle of New York, but standing there in the moonlight, he’d just looked fragile. You’d missed introductions earlier that day, having been on a mission, and approached with caution, careful not to rip him from his quiet reverie.

“Whatcha thinking about?” you’d asked softly, leaning next to him on the railing.

He’d looked slightly bewildered, whether because you snuck up on him or he didn’t know who you were, you still didn’t know.

“Nothing much, mortal,” he’d said.

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

“What?”

“Calling me ‘mortal.’”

“Well forgive me, but you did not introduce yourself,” he’d snapped back.

“Oh, well, yeah. Ok. I guess you’re right.”

You told him your name, and he said it softly, tasting the foreign word on his tongue. He tested it out a few times before coming to a conclusion.

“I like that name very much, mortal,” he teased.

“Haha very funny. How mature.”

Despite trying to sound angry, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d talked for a while after that and didn’t split up until the first light of morning began to fight through the darkness. Needless to say, you didn’t get much sleep, for even when you’d reached your room, your heart was pounding too wildly to allow you to slumber. You were too excited from meeting this handsome stranger. This god. Loki.

But that was then, and this was now. You walked out onto the balcony decorated with twinkle lights, candles, and your favorite flowers, the napkins and tablecloth your favorite color. You nervously checked to make sure you had the ring carefully tucked away one more time before going out to meet Loki in an embrace.

Throughout dinner, you mainly managed to keep your cool, but your leg would not stop bouncing with anxious energy. If Loki noticed, he didn’t say anything, though he did appear to be a little nervous himself, what with the constant fidgeting of hands and all.

Waving away your empty dishes with a flick of his hands, he began asking what you would like for dessert, but your mind was already far away. You jumped a little at the sound of Loki’s voice.

“I’m sorry, what was that again?” you asked, snapping back to the moment.

“Dearest, are you feeling alright?” he questioned, voice laced with concern. “You seem worried.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said as he raised an unconvinced eyebrow. It was now or never. “But I have something to say.”

“By all means, please share.”

“Ok,” you began, sucking in a sharp, anxious breath. “As you know, we’ve been dating for some time now, and I love you more than anything in this world. Even when we fight, that doesn’t change. Every moment I spend with you, I feel loved. Safe. Happy. You’ve been there for me in ways no one else in this world has. From the moment we met, something was screaming in my mind, ‘This is the one.’ It hasn’t stopped saying it since. I want to be with you, be there for you, for the rest of my life. Loki, my heart, my love, the light of my life, will you marry me?”

You got down onto one knee and popped open the ring box for a very stunned Loki. You gulped nervously as he seemed to regain his senses.

“Well, this is awkward,” he said. Your mind immediately jumped to worst-case scenario, assuming he was about to break up with you, but before you could speak your fears, Loki was also down on one knee, also opening a box. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

Now it was your turn to be stunned. You’d truly thought he was too hard on himself to ever actually ask for your hand in marriage, and you were elated that he loved you enough to work past that.

“In case the answer wasn’t obvious, yes. Yes with my whole heart!” you exclaimed, launching yourself into his arms.

Pulling back from him, you kissed him passionately. You slipped his ring onto his finger, and he did the same for you. It was exactly what you’d always hoped your engagement ring would look like. You beamed at Loki, completely happy.

“I love you, dearest,” he said.

“I love you, too. I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“And every moment after.”

[lumina-rose]

Tear You Apart

Chapter 3/4

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32168824/chapters/80048179

Pairing:

Laszlo x Reader

Summary:

Mere months after the conclusion of the Beecham case, Dr.Kreizler and his associates are asked once again to solve a new series of murders that plague the streets of New York. They are joined by the alienist’s new assistant, who’s presence soon unravels startling revelations. Not only within the case, but also within the mind of one of their own.

(This story is set between the events of Season 1 and Season 2)

Warnings:

Murder Mystery, Graphic Description of Corpses, slight dark!Laszlo (kinda. Think Will “This is my design” Graham), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Minor Violence, Friends to Lovers,Assistant, Boss/Employee Relationship,Tension, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Kidnapping, Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Abuse

(More Future Warnings TBD)

Notes: 

Adding an extra warning for this chapter, just in case.

This chapter deals with themes of violence, kidnapping, captivity, non-consensual touching, non-consensual groping, and implied abuse.

Chapter 3: Lily

Dr. Kreizler was not a man who considered himself superstitious.

Ever since he was a boy, he clung to his curiosity, searching for answers through science rather than religion in order to understand the world around him, even if it left his reputation tarnished to the more traditionally-raised, God-fearing socialites of New York. Yet, even as a child, there had always been a darkness that surrounded him, drawing in trouble wherever he went. No, Laszlo was not superstitious, but there seemed no other term to describe himself other than cursed.

You had been missing for two days, and even logic and reason could not explain why history seemed destined to repeat itself.

Following your night at the opera, Kreizler had thought it odd that you had not appeared at the Institute the following day. You had not seemed unwell, during your outing- quite the opposite, actually- and yet the fact remained that your presence was notably absent. At first, the alienist pushed his worry aside. After all, you had spent what was supposed to be a night of rest by his side. He reasoned that perhaps you had simply drained yourself, driving yourself to exhaustion with both the investigation and the concern you had displayed for him. But what truthfully unsettled him was the lack of warning of your absence. It was unlike you.

Regardless, even with your absence, Kreizler quickly worked through the day's sessions and duties, leaving most of the day free to continue working on the investigation. Your theory the day before had intrigued him, and gave valuable insight into what the killer's motives and background could be. With a newfound momentum, Laszlo called for Stevie, sending the ward to gather his colleagues here at the Institute, in order to follow this new train of thought. He also instructed Stevie to find you, deciding that it would be best to check on you, if only to calm his own anxieties. With that, all that was left to do was wait.

Marcus and Lucius were the first to arrive, punctual as always.  Not wishing to waste any time, the twins immediately went to discuss their new findings with the doctor, picking out bits of information that may be relevant to figuring out the killer's identity. Kreizler listened, drawing connections to their findings with the theory you had created. John was the next to arrive, quickly followed by Sara. The two had not had much to work with, in terms of narrowing down who the killer may be, but found a couple police reports and articles that had spoken about similar incidents. Laszlo nodded, giving his own opinions and comments occasionally, but his mind continued to drift elsewhere. He had pulled out his pocket watch, when he heard a new set of footsteps. Quickly, he looked up, only to see Stevie once again. Ushering the boy inside, he asked if he had found you.

"I tried, Dr. Kreizler, but I couldn't find her anywhere." Stevie explained. "Even went by the house a few times, but no one ever answered. Her door was locked, so I thought maybe she came back here."

Laszlo sighed, audibly upset by the news. "Right, thank you Stevie."

This caught the attention of everyone in the room. After the boy left the room, Sara turned to Laszlo.

"Has something happened?" She asked, sensing Laszlo's growing worry. "How long has she been missing?"

The alienist simply shook his head. "Since this morning. At first I thought I was simply overreacting, but now I'm not so sure..."

Saying his admission aloud, Laszlo realized how troubling the whole situation had seemed. He explained where you had been last night, and how Kreizler had made sure to get you home safely after the opera, only to find that you had not come to the Institute today. John stood up from his seat, sending a glance to Sara and the brothers. They stayed silent, throwing silent glances back and forth, as if talking through looks alone. Finally, Sara stepped forward.

"I believe we should go to her home, ourselves. If we find that she is safe, then we can continue our investigation."

"What're you saying?" Lucius interjected, stunned by Sara's proposal. "What would you have us do? Having the five of us show up unannounced to (y/n)'s home might be an overreaction, considering it hasn't even been a day."

"You may be right," Sara starts. "but I'd like to make sure nothing has happened to her. I won't be able to shed the guilt if the worst has come."

Laszlo's heart sank at her words, reminding him of the very same doubts and worries he had told you of the night before.

Moving quickly, Laszlo went to grab his jacket, placing it on as he spoke. "I'm going-"

Once more, Lucius was wary. "Dr. Kreizler-"

"-stay here if you must, Lucius." He turned, leaving no room for argument as he walked towards the exit.

Reluctantly, Lucius followed after Laszlo, with Marcus's hand on his shoulder. Sara and John were already standing, ready to leave with the doctor, the same memory of the Beecham case fresh in their mind. With that, it didn't take long for them to reach your home, a mere few blocks away from the Institute. It was a relatively small building, not like the towering apartments that surrounded it on either side. It was as though someone had taken a cottage from the countryside and placed it right on the streets of New York.

There were no lights on, by the windows. A fact that shouldn't have been strange, considering it was now late into the day. Even so, it caused a sense of looming dread to enter Laszlo's mind. It felt so similar when he had returned to his own home all those months ago, as though time was repeating itself. First with Mary, now with you. As the group called and knocked on your door, drawing the scrutinizing and curious stares of the people passing by, Laszlo concluded that he must have been cursed. How else could he explain the events unfolding? Truly, everyone that was drawn towards him seemed destined to either leave or be taken from him.

There had been one thing that gave him hope that it would be different.

With Mary, she had been a constant, comforting presence. What he felt towards her had not always been there, not until much later after their first interactions, but it had been a source of happiness and warmth. The feeling of being known so completely, without needing so much as a word being spoken. Mary had brought out a kindness in him that even he had feared he did not possess. It had been sweet and somewhat innocent love, regardless of the rather unusual dynamic.

With you, it was a similar feeling, but not entirely the same. Where his feelings for Mary were more subtle, there had always been an underlying want in his relationship with you. At first, it had simply been a need to understand you. How you could be so similar to him, sharing that same curiosity for the human mind, yet still be able to catch him by surprise with your insights. He wanted to know about you, every little detail. Learning what made you tick, what made you happy, and what parts of your mind you had not shown to anyone else. Yet, even that wasn't enough. It wasn't until much recently, had Laszlo deduced the source of this incessant need for you. Where his feelings for Mary had made him recognize the lighter side of him, you made him realize that perhaps the darkness there was deeper than he knew. But he welcomed that new feeling just as enthusiastically, after the events of the opera.

What he felt for Mary and for you were very different, but just as intense. He had hoped, foolishly, that those differences would change something. And yet it seemed as if history was playing out again, as it had before.

"Unlock the door."

Laszlo's words were met with hesitation by the group, before they noticed the clear distress in his expression. Marcus nodded, placing the bag he held down in front of the door, before crouching down to pick the lock. Once unlocked, Sara opened the door, leaning in through the frame to look inside. From what she could tell, the study and kitchen were empty, and she could hear no sounds of movement, even after she called your name. Slowly, one-by-one, the five of them entered your home.

"Marcus and I will check upstairs," Sara decided, earning a nod from the Isaacson brother. "I believe there are a few rooms further back."

As they split up inside the house, Laszlo found himself at a loss. Although he had stopped by a couple of times, he had never truly taken the time to examine the home. Outside of the paintings that decorated the walls and the furniture provided to you, the home was extremely bare. Only a handful of personal items were scattered about, as well as a couple of books he had given you to read. For each and every room the doctor passed, it dawned on him that you had not been exaggerating when you had told him you dropped everything to move to New York. He wondered just how much you had left behind.

"Dr. Kreizler!"

Marcus's voice called out, clearly alarmed, causing the air to still throughout the house. Rushing upstairs,  John, Lucius, and Laszlo all went to join Marcus and Sara, only stopping once they saw the man exit what appeared to be your bedroom. A small bouquet of roses in his hands.

You awoke with your eyes closed. The only thing grounding you to reality was the steady, throbbing pulse in the back of your head, causing a dull ache to pass over you with every beat. With a low groan, you blinked, as you thought about how rough work at the Institute was going to be, if this headache was going to plague you. As you shot up from the bed, letting out a painful cry, you went to raise your hand to you head. Only for them to be pulled back harshly, by a binding pressure against your wrists.

You blinked, and suddenly the pain in your head was in the back of your mind. Your eyes shot to your hands, ignoring the sting of the sudden action. A bundle of knots bound you, as a rope dug into your skin, leashing you to the unfamiliar bed frame behind you.

No. no. no no no. You thought in a panic, realizing the gravity of your current situation.

You took in your surroundings, seated on a small bed in the center of a room. There were no windows, and only a small lamp by the door lit the small space. The walls were bare, save for the portrait of a young woman. The only exit was a wooden door, with cracks forming from the bottom. Your heart racing, you tried to recall your memory of the events last night. What had happened to you? Where were you? Who brought you here?

You remembered the opera, and your pleasant time with Laszlo there, and how he had escorted you back to your home. So why couldn't you remember falling asleep there? Why were you still wearing the same dress you had spent hours deciding on? You had watched the carriage ride far out of sight, Stevie at the reins. You had opened the door to your home, without the use of your key, as it had been unlocked already.

Unlocked. Despite having purposefully locked it before leaving for the night.

"Stupid." Your breath hitched, as you cursed yourself for not noticing such a mistake. You hadn't even realized. Too giddy and tired from the emotional events of the opera.

Your heart raced, as you grew more and more frustrated, causing you to tug at your bindings. But no luck came. You thought back to what you did after entering your home. You had placed a few things down, before retiring to your bedroom, in order to change into your night clothes and sleep. But you never made it that far. In a sudden moment of clarity, a memory returned to you. You had sat down in front of your vanity mirror, before noticing a flash of red in the mirror. A bouquet of roses. Perhaps it was the fear and shock of the realization that the killer they’d been hunting had been in your home that caused you to lose consciousness. However, the pain in your head suggested otherwise.

Whatever the case was, you were now trapped in a room, after being taken from your home by the very person you had spent months trying to find. But aside from the distressing predicament of your kidnapping, what unsettled you most was the sudden deviation in behavior. If you truly had been taken by the killer you were searching for, why were you still alive? Why did he take you? What did he plan to do to you?

You didn't want to wait to find out, but found that you had little choice in the matter. No matter how many times you tugged and pulled at your bindings, the restraint never weakened. You had tried untying the knots on the bed frame, in hopes that you may be able to escape, even if your hands were tied together. The knots however, were tight and overlapping each other, and no amount of strength that you possessed could undo them. In desperation, you looked at the wooden door, knowing that it was all that stood between you and freedom. If you only could unbind your hands. But even if you had escaped, you didn't know where you were, or who's home you were in.

The answer didn't come till what felt like hours later. You had sat yourself up into a more comfortable position on the bed, where the rope would not pull at your now-aching wrists, and jumped as the wooden door suddenly opened.

Your heart leapt to your throat, and all you could seem to do was stare at the figure in the doorway. You were shocked. Your were speechless. You wanted to deny it, to try and lie to yourself by saying that he couldn't be the one who took you. That his presence here was merely some miraculous coincidence. But you weren't that naive. Still, never had you thought the same man who would regularly stop by your house could potentially be a murderer.

"Mr. Arnett." You breathed out, finally.

"Good evening, my dear." He greeted, his tone just as casual as any other time you had spoken. As though it was normal, to have you tied up in a room against your will.

As he stepped into the room, you found yourself growing more and more anxious with each of his steps. He had asked you something, a question you couldn't recall. You couldn't even find it within you to respond, knowing that anything you said might make your situation worse. If Arnett truly was the same man who’d been killing the women of New York, then it’s likely he’d have no issue using that same violence against you. Although, he had already changed his behavior, choosing to attack you in your own home, rather than on the street. That alone revealed that he was unpredictable.

"What..what am I doing here?" You asked, fearfully. You wanted your tone to come off as more questioning, rather than upset. You knew that if Laszlo’s theory was correct, the only reason you weren’t dead yet was because the fantasy behind the murders relied on your acceptance of the man. Still unsure of his intentions with you, you shuddered at the thought of letting the man do whatever he wanted.

"I'm taking care of you."

The vagueness of the answer, and the emptiness in his tone, as he spoke sent a wave of fear over you. The man took a step towards you, right next to the bed you were tied to. You sat up, moving away from him, by instinct. You had hardly noticed the tray Arnett had been carrying, until he placed it down on the foot of the bed. A wide assortment of fruits, breads, and foods were placed onto the tray, along with a single red rose. Taking a seat next to you, he lifted something off of the item.

"A strawberry, from my garden." He explained, as though that was the cause of your nervous behavior.

You didn’t feel hungry, but felt a sense of relief at the act. Only because that meant he didn’t plan on harming you…yet. Once more, he placed the strawberry up to your lips.

Arnett's jaw tensed, as he spoke again. This time he sounded as though he were trying to restrain himself. "You don't need to be afraid of me."

Afraid to anger him, you took a bite, before attempting to distance yourself from him further, if that were even possible at this point. He praised you for the action, as an owner would praise a pet. Bitterness rose from your chest, creating a bad taste in your mouth. Whether it was the fruit he gave you, or the reaction you had to his words, you weren't sure.

"See, I knew you'd be good," He spoke, condescendingly. "just like my Lily."

You swallowed back a grimace. "Lily?"

Arnett blinked, as if confused for a moment, before giving a forced chuckle. His eyes turned to the portrait in the room, of the young woman. "I must apologize, it's rather rude of me to compare you to my wife- ex-wife. "

He quickly corrected himself, before looking back at you, his eyes falling to your wrists. More specifically, the red burns on them, from your previous attempts at escape. He reached out, without warning, before scolding you profusely. He spoke only about how should be more careful, as to not harm yourself further. In your upset state, you didn't even think before instinctively ripping your hands from his hold, not wanting him to so much as touch you.

Arnett's almost-caring expression fell in an instant, before revealing an angered scowl. He grabbed your arms again, only now his grip was harsh and painful. There was no doubt in your mind that you would have bruises later.

"Don't do that." He hissed. "Don't you ever do that!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, shaking as you quickly apologized in an attempt to calm his sudden temper. Blinking, you searched for any excuse that might help you. "I'm sorry.. I.. It's inappropriate, I wasn't expecting you to.."

Once more, you cursed yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse. However, even as you closed your eyes, you felt the grip on your hand lose its hold. When you looked back at Arnett, his scowl had disappeared. He thought for a moment, before a slight smile crept over his lips.

"You don't need to worry about such things anymore, my dear." He sighed. "Now that you're here with me, you won't have to feign innocence for the sake of appearances. We can speak freely now."

As you stared into his eyes, you came to understand that in some twisted way, his mind had made up a lie: making him believe you held some form of silent connection with him. Twisting your interactions into subtle advances, when they had merely been polite conversations. Every small talk in the study of your home, he had taken it as a sign of reciprocated affections. Rather than what they were. And he truly believed that lie, which was what frightened you the most.

You were silent, as he ran a thumb over your injured hand. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but you viewed it more as a threat. You knew that if you pulled your hands way, as you wanted to, you'd be met with more aggression. Eventually, his focus returned to the tray he had brought in, handing you the rose as he placed another fruit to your mouth. You were fighting back a mixture of emotions, as you attempted to process the situation. You wanted to snap, and tell him that he didn't need to feed you himself. You wanted kick and fight, if only to save your pride. But you knew that none of these actions would help you, and would more likely cause Arnett to harm you.

Instead, you tried to refocus your frustrations into questioning Arnett's plan for you.

"Mr. Arnett, I..I find myself at..at a loss as to why you've brought me here." You muttered, weakly. "Surely, it's not simply to 'speak freely', as you put it? I can't help but think there is another reason.."

The older man scoffed, as if surprised you even had to ask.

"Well, I've been left with no other choice, haven't I? You're forced to spend every day and night fretting over the little problems of a half-crazed alienist, who insists on keeping you by his side." He grit his teeth, looking  around the room for a moment. "But that no longer matters. You won’t need to worry anymore about Kreizler taking his liberties with you, my dear."

The bruising grasp on your hand returned. His voice and expression reflected anger, though it didn't seem directed at you this time. His eyes were still staring off at nothing in particular, and it seemed as though he wasn't even aware of the venom in his tone. Ignoring your pain for a moment, you feared what he meant, upon mentioning Laszlo. Was he merely speaking his suspicions out of a jealous delusion? Or had he known- had he seen- your actions with Laszlo at the opera last night?

You let out another pained gasp, causing Arnett to release his hold on you. This time, he stood up, staring down at you with regret and fear. Almost dejectedly, he grabbed the tray once more, and made his way back towards the wooden door. But not without looking back at the portrait once more.

"Lily was as delicate as you."

A time passed before the door opened again.

You had fought to stay awake, in order to try and defend yourself against Arnett, even though you were essentially at his mercy. But the reality was that you were exhausted. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. The stress of the case, Laszlo, and your own current situation had left you utterly broken. As sleep came for you, your eyes fogged with tears, as you thought back to the happiness you felt just a night before.

When you finally awoke, you heard a loud thud, as though something had fallen somewhere in the building you were being kept in. Your heart pounded, half hopeful and half afraid. The wooden door to the dim room opened, your heart sinking as you faced Arnett once more, his face red with anger as he began yelling out, seething with every breath.

"He comes to my place of work, accusing me!"

Arnett raves, red in the face, as he circles around the room. His sentences slur together, his words coming out faster than you can understand them. You sit up quickly, bracing yourself, as it's all you can do in the moment. The man's eyes were wide and his gaze flicked from place to place, as if searching for something as he continued to ramble on. You noticed how his hands were clenched, his fingernails digging into his palms and his knuckles becoming a white color. Fearing what he may do, you kept your mouth shut, hoping in vain that he might forget that you're there.

"-Slandering my name and reputation!” He heaved out a heavy breath, before his stare finally finds its destination on you.

Whatever pleasant facade the man placed on for you before was gone now, overcome by his anger. He rushed forwards, pushing you back against the headboard of the bed, placing a hand on your face, pressing hard on your cheeks and jaw. Startled, you froze, unable to even move, except for the trembling throughout your body.

"Who is he to you?" He demanded, an accusatory glare cutting through you.

You choked out a reply, asking who or what he was talking about. That only made his grip stronger, squeezing against your bones enough to make them ache.

“That damned Kreizler!” He spat. “Is he truly so dependent on you, that he cannot go a single day without you?! Is your company so enjoyable that he cannot help himself?”

Arnett’s words were spiteful and insulting. Not only towards Laszlo, but yourself as well. It seemed that while Arnett did not seem to know the extent of your relationship to the alienist, the suspicion was enough to drive him over the edge. You only feared what would happen, should he learn what occurred at the opera. As your mind raced with your thoughts, you hadn't noticed how your captor now moved over you, trapping you under him. His spare hand trailed over you, his glare burning holes into you as he grabbed at your form. Your mind went blank, and all you could hear was the heartbeat that now pulsed in your ears. You twisted and turned, biting into your cheek as your body moved on its own, trying to do anything to get him off of you. A quick slap stunned you, causing you to recoil from the force.

Still, Arnett seemed lost to his ramblings. “He claims himself a gentleman! Tell me, do you enjoy the attention he gives you? Perhaps I’ve been mistreating you, perhaps you enjoy the way he takes advantage of you-“

Mistreatment was an understatement, but you dared not speak your mind in this moment. The feeling of his spare hand pushing a trail up your leg sent a wave of disgust and fear through you. Desperately, you spoke, saying anything that came to mind, hoping to calm the clearly unhinged man.

“No, no Mr. Arnett, please!”

You cried, gasping as your throat seemed to close off on its own.

“You’re- you’re right! He’s- He’s not a gentlemen, not like you. Louis-“

You barely registered what you were saying, only focusing on pleading for your life. You continued, speaking whatever you thought the man would want to hear. As soon as they left your mouth, you hated every lie you spoke about Laszlo. How you were catering to Mr. Arnett’s sick fantasy. It seemed to work, however, as the man paused his assault on you. His grip on your chin lifted your gaze up to him, making you stare through tears to look him in the eye.

Your voice shook as you spoke, going on and on about how you were being mistreated and how Arnett was a gentlemen, as much as it pained you to do so. You empathized the phrase, hoping it might somehow make him stop. His actions were abhorrent, yet he seemed to pride himself on being the gentleman he had tricked you into believing he was. You played into Arnett's fantasy, making yourself appear as some damsel in need of saving and that Arnett was the man who would do it. All you could do was hope your words satisfied him.

His hand released its hold on your leg, but you did not allow yourself to sigh in relief. The hold on your chin disappeared, as he gently placed his palm against your cheek. A soft smile met his lips, yet his eyes remained vacant and cold. His voice was distant once more, as if remembering something.

“You truly are just like my Lily.” He pressed his lips against you, holding you there. You didn’t move. When he finally parted, he gave a reassuring smile, something meant to comfort you, before saying: “He won’t mistreat you anymore, my dear. I’ll make sure of it.”

The older man stood up, smoothing a hand over his suit, before turning from you. Your heart sank at his words, leaving you in despair even as he left the room. Pulling your legs up to your chest, you cried into the wrinkled fabric of your dress, muffling the sound in order to keep Arnett from hearing you.

It felt like years, as another day passed. Your heart ached along with your shoulders and wrists, as you stared blankly at the wooden door. There were moments when you asked yourself if this barren room would be the last thing you saw. If the painted, empty eyes of Lily Arnett would be staring down at you, as you joined her in death. But there was hope.

Arnett’s outburst had been sudden and terrifying. But in his state, he’d given you the knowledge that Laszlo and the others were close, already questioning the man. Already suspecting the truth. You just needed to keep him satisfied, until your friends could figure out how to find you. If they found you.

When the wooden door opened once more, Arnett was bringing in another tray of food and water for you. As he came into the light of the lamp, your attention was drawn to the cut along the man's temple. Given your situation, this shouldn't have surprised you, but in all the time you've known the man you’d never seen the man with even a scratch on him, despite the violent attacks he had carried out. Before your abduction, you knew the man to be of good standing in the eyes of society. Someone obsessed with his reputation as a proper gentleman. Someone who’d never be caught up in a fight, not one that would cause such a wound.

You ask what happened, less out of concern and more out of curiosity, desperately wanting to learn what you could about the events playing out in the world outside of the small room. Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears however, as Arnett silently approached, not answering you. Instead, he lifted the food for you to eat. Slowly, you took a bite, not wanting to upset him further. After finishing the bits fruit and bread he initially offered, you found yourself growing more and more restless, due to his unsettling silence. As he lifted another fruit to you, you turned your head slowly, until eventually you found yourself looking up at the woman in the portrait.

Twice now he had mentioned his late wife…Lily. Some deep-rooted part of you felt as though her death had not been some random accident or illness, given how Arnett had consistently been comparing the two of you. No… By now, you suspected that perhaps the poor woman had shared your fate, falling victim to her husband's erratic behavior.

You opened your mouth, your throat dry as you carefully said: “I…I realize I never asked about your wife, before. If it is not too upsetting, tell me, how… how did she pass?”

Arnett blinked, as if snapped from his silence. A vacant expression crossed over his face, sending a frightening chill through you. It was identical to the one Laszlo had at the morgue, as the alienist was trying to gain insight into the killer’s mind. You had trusted Laszlo, but it was different now. Now you looked that very killer in the eye.

“I believe I told you. She was delicate." He paused, staring you down, before glancing away quickly. "Now eat.”

A horrible pit in your stomach grew, as your mind raced to create images of what you suspected befell the late Mrs. Arnett.  If his lack of hesitation of using force against you was any indication…It was slowly becoming evident that perhaps she may have been the first. The catalyst that created the man you faced now. You swallow back the lump in your throat, speechless. In your shock, you had forgotten what Arnett had ordered you to do. It was too late to fix your mistake, as the man quickly took your silence as refusal. In an instant, the tray was shoved aside, slammed to the floor, as his form climbed over you.

"You ungrateful bitch!" His hands clamped down on your throat, using a strength that felt as though it would snap your life away at any second. You hands pulled down on the ropes, having enough length to allow you to claw at his grasp. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?"

You struggled for breath, your heartbeat becoming the only sound in your ears before a slam at the door snapped you from your panicked state. A voice- no, voices- spoke loudly. You didn’t process what was said, only that the weight of Arnett shifted. You found yourself placed between Arnett and the unknown parties, a sharp pressure against your neck. As you gathered your senses, you realized the pressure was a knife, one Arnett had kept hidden away. You weren't sure if he had it before, or if he had planned to use it against you before being interrupted.

John and Sara stood before you, the woman aiming a gun towards Arnett. Though, with you placed in between them, the weapon was also directed towards you. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. If you weren’t so focused on the knife’s weight against you, your heart surely would have leapt with happiness. They had found you! But the confrontation was not over.

"You have no right, breaking in here!” Arnett seethed. “I’ll have you arrested!”

Sara was quick to respond, not even flinching from his words. “Call them if you like, but I doubt the police would be interested with us, upon finding a woman unwillingly locked up on your property.”

Arnett shook his head, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. His voice was shaking. Out of anger, fear, and confusion. “No, you’re wrong! She..she wants to be here! Tell them!”

The knife pressed harder against you, as Arnett whispered unintelligible words against your ear. You gasped, closing your eyes, as if everything would disappear if you didn't watch. Another sound of footsteps grabbed your attention, forcing you to look up once more. A third figure emerged through the door, joining John and Sara. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, upon seeing the tense stand-off between them and Arnett. With you at the center.

“Laszlo!” You called, the name falling from your mouth before you could stop it.

A vice grip found the back of your neck, making you gasp in pain. His whisper was erratic but you could just make out: "How dare you say his name in front of me-"

The knife pressed harder, a small sting followed by a warm trickling feeling. His cheek pressed against your ear, speaking lowly. “Tell them you want to be here. With me.”Another pause of silence made him seethe. "Answer me, Lily!”

Arnett’s grip on reality, whatever remained, was slipping as the scene played out before you. Still, you refused. Laszlo was here, They were all here! You were so close to freedom that you couldn't bare the thought of him taking it away. Tears reached your eyes, as you glanced at the faces you've grown to know.

“There’s no where to go, Mr. Arnett.” Sara said, regaining your attention. She looked back at you, rather than your captor. She looked unsure, as she aimed her gun toward the two of you, in contrast to her confident words. “If you truly care for her, as I suspect you do, then let her go.”

“No, nonono..” Arnett’s breaths became erratic. “She belongs with me! Tell them, my dear, now.”

Still you remain silent, biting back a cry.

Arnett snapped, cursing you, as the knife lifted for a moment, before turning fully towards you, intended to pierce your throat. In that split moment, you heard the loud blast of gunfire, followed by the metallic smell of gunpowder. A ringing overtook your senses, followed closely by a burning in your shoulder.

Then...

thud

thud

thud

Your heartbeat signaled to you that you were alive, but you couldn't help yourself but think it was a trick. One last cruel joke for the entertainment of a higher power.

Your mind and vision seemed to blur, as each passing moment came by in flashes. You no longer felt Arnetts breath against your ear, yet the intense pain in your shoulder remained. You felt a pair of arms reach around you, as the restraining pull of ropes on your wrists disappeared. The cool breeze of air hit your face at some point, before the rest faded away to darkness.

[kingwuko]

Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire: Book 1, Part 1

Welcome to my second post on Wuko in the comics. In this post I’ll be discussing the first half of Ruins of the Empire: Book 1. Wu is a prominent character in this comic trilogy, and there is lots of character development and exploration for him. There are also a lot of scenes with Wu and Mako together, and what’s more, there are a handful of visual parallels to Korrasami!

Ruins of the Empire

Book 1 of RotE was released in May 2019. The art style is different from Turf Wars- the colors are very vibrant and it almost looks like stills of the animated series. It takes place 3 months after the conclusion of the animated series, and there is lots of continuity following the events of Turf wars. Some major plot points that carry from Turf Wars include: Wu has been governing the Earth Kingdom, Korra and Asami are in a firmly established relationship, and Zhu Li is President of the United Nations.

Plot Summary

The first half of Book 1 of RotE highlights the transition of the Earth Kingdom into a democracy by focusing on the first state to hold its elections, Gaoling. Gaoling’s election is at risk of being disrupted by Earth Empire general, Guan, who didn’t surrender when the rest of the empire did. The Krew decides to accompany King Wu to Gaoling to ensure the election proceeds without interference.

Major plot points in the first half of Book 1

We start out with a flashback that sets the timeline for the rest of the comic. In Gaoling, Commander Guan is running an earth empire “reeducation camp” and has just gotten word that Kuvira surrendered, but isn’t planning to give up so easily. He insists that his “experiments” and the Earth Empire will go on, with or without Kuvira as the Earth Emperor…. Then we jump ahead 3 months to Republic City, City Hall. We start out with an excellent frame, the first of many Wuko Korrasami parallels! Get excited, there are SO many!

Bolin is working for President Zhu Li Moon now, because, why not? He just quit his job working with Mako on the police force, and now he’s Zhu Li’s administrative assistant or something. Zhu Li is going to be introducing King Wu for a “big speech” to the citizens of Republic City. Korra gives Wu a friendly elbow nudge and asks if he’s ready. (the first of many wholesome friendship moments between the two of them)

Wu is not ready, he’s nervous. He asks Mako to read his speech for him, and Mako says no way- but then he reassures Wu that he’ll do great. “Just be yourself” Wu is immediately comforted and says that Mako always knows the right thing to say and that must be why he keeps Mako around! (I can think of a couple other reasons...) Mako’s expressions are very stoic and closed off. He’s got his arms crossed and looks grumpy (I feel like I’m always saying Mako looks grumpy. But that’s the best adjective I can come up with).

Wu begins his speech where he announces that it’s almost time for the Earth Kingdom states to begin holding elections, starting in the state of Gaoling. Grandma Yin and cousin Tu are in the audience and Yin is booing Wu, and also yelling “Long live the monarchy” while holding framed portraits of Wu and Hou-Ting.

Asami, Korra, Mako and Varric are standing behind Wu, applauding along with the crowd (well, the crowd minus Yin). Korra and Mako casually compliment Wu, saying that he's doing great and almost looks like a real leader! Wu says that within a year there will be a peaceful transition to democracy. He gets bombarded by questions and panics and starts singing. He tosses his stylish hat into the crowd, which Yin catches and says “you’ll always be my king!” Mako covers his face with his hands, Korra says ”well you did tell him to be himself” and Mako says “this is NOT what I meant”. Sorry Mako. You know Wu better than anyone so you should have known a song was coming. Zhu Li takes the podium and Wu dramatically faints/collapses into Mako’s arms. I presume on purpose.

We cut to a scene of Kuvira’s trial. Kuvira, after being read the charges against her, pleads not guilty (because every thing she did was for the “greater good”), Suyin confronts her and Kuvira apologizes but Suyin isn’t having it and forcefully tells her that apologies aren’t enough, she has to take responsibility.

We move on to President Moon’s office, where Wu is sitting on a sofa and Bolin welcomes Asami, Mako and Korra in. Mako lampshades Bolin’s many career changes. Bolin makes a comment to Mako that just because Mako has “found” himself it doesn’t mean the rest of them have. I, for the life of me, can’t figure out exactly what Bolin is trying to say here. Is he referring to the fact that Mako has “found” his career as a detective? Or something else, like his true feelings for Wu? Probably the first thing but us Wuko shippers will happily apply it to the other thing.

Once everyone is settled in, Wu asks them to come with him to Gaoling for the upcoming elections! Mako is actually not thrilled, and tells Wu that they aren’t going to be there for him to show off as his entourage. Wu is like No, that’s not it! Well, yes, kinda. He wants their help dealing with the Earth Empire loyalists being led by Guan. The Earth Kingdom army is understaffed and Wu is worried the Guan will try to prevent the elections from happening. The Krew agrees that it could be a problem, especially since it could cause other states to back out of holding elections and allow the earth empire to rise again.

So the Krew plans to come to Gaoling to show support for the elections, hopefully deter Guan from interfering, and Mako says they will keep Wu safe. Zhu Li encourages Bolin to go as well. Wu is very excited to team up with Mako again! After they leave the President's office, Korra suggests going to go speak to Kuvira to try to gather intel on Guan- Asami is not thrilled and doesn’t want to go with her because Kuvira was responsible for her father’s death. Korra is understanding and supportive and they share a lovely little kiss before Korra heads off.

Korra arrives at Kuvira’s prison with Naga. We catch a quick glimpse into Kuvira’s mind as she remembers a moment from her childhood when she ran away from her parents-after her parents accused her of breaking a vase, the take away her toys and lock her in her room “for her own good”, and she uses her earth bending to break the wall and escape. This and other flashbacks attempt to make us more sympathetic to Kuvira so we can accept her redemption arc in the remainder of the comics. After her little flashback, Korra and Kuvira discuss Guan. Kuvira says she didn’t know Guan hadn’t surrendered, and that Korra should consider him a major threat because he is cunning and strategic. Then Kuvira tells Korra if she wants to stop Guan, she should bring Kuvira along to reason with him and convince him to stand down and surrender. Korra is not convinced, but Kuvira tells her to take time to think about it, and she’ll be there to help when Korra asks.

Meanwhile, Guan is rallying his troops. He’s got a sizable regiment of soldiers along with tanks, and is giving them a big speech about taking back the empire and rising from the ruins of defeat. He and his troops head out of their fortress, presumably to do exactly what everyone is worried about and stop Gaoling’s election.

Mako and Wu Scenes

Mako and Wu are featured in many scenes of these comics, together more often than not!

The very first scene with Wu, he is standing right next to Mako, in the same frame as Korra and Asami. I realize “standing next to each other” might not actually be ground breaking evidence for Wuko, but it feels like a parallel to Korrasami, and most importantly creates kind of an establishing shot, planting Wu at the center along with Korra. This is kind of amazing considering he was in only one season of the show and he was largely a comic relief character that I don’t think the writers meant for us to take seriously. There is a pattern of parallels in RotE with Korrasami and Wuko, and we don’t really need to reach for them. They are right there, visually.

We also get to see some lovely moments of Korra’s and Wu’s friendship. She elbows him good-naturedly. She’s kind and supportive. She compliments him. He does seem a little awkward but overall it seems he really fits in with the Krew now, and I find it really sweet. His characterization feels very different from the show. He isn’t obnoxiously flirting with every 'dame' he lays eyes on. He isn’t bratty, or materialistic. He’s still goofy and lands some comic relief joke moments, but overall he is treated like an actual character with substantial development and plot-advancing roles.

During Wu’s speech, Mako is staring like, way too intently at him while casually complementing how he almost looks like a real leader. (Well, up until Wu starts singing, and then his second-hand embarrassment seems more intense than the others, who mostly just seem a little stunned, while Mako has his face buried in his hands). Also, the running gag of Grandma Yin being obsessed with royalty has it’s funny moments during his speech, but I really like it because the fact that Mako’s grandma is reverent, affectionate, AND outspoken with Wu would probably create an interesting in-law dynamic, right? Also, during his song, the tosses his hat out to the crowd which Yin catches like a single lady catching the bridal bouquet, and says “You’ll always be my King!” I like to imagine that she now wears his hat everywhere, along with Mako’s scarf. I know I’m reaching but Yin wearing both their accessories is another Wuko moment in my mind.

Let’s also talk about Wu fainting. After his panic-singing, Zhu Li quickly takes over and Wu steps back and dramatically faints, saying “Wu down”- right into Mako’s arms. Why into Mako’s arms? Did he step back and strategically aim himself at Mako? Technically the closest person to him was Varrick. So he had to stagger back diagonally and fall back toward Mako on purpose. Did Mako catch him with lightning-fast reflexes? Korra was also right there and she’s the Avatar, you’d think she’d react quicker than Mako. Nope. The best explanation is that Wu for sure was intentionally falling into Mako’s arms, and Mako’s ‘protect Wu’ instincts kicked in faster than anyone else's because.. Well. You ship Wuko. You know what I'm saying. <3

During the conversation in Zhu Li’s office, once again, visually Mako and Wu are parallel to Korra and Asami. They are sitting next to each other on a couch opposite Korra and Asami. However, there is this one moment where Mako is NOT HAVING IT with Wu. When Wu asks the Krew to join him, Mako is like, why? For show? No way. He says “We’re not your entourage, Wu.” Honestly that was kinda mean of him to say. I’m not sure what to make of it other than Mako is suddenly grumpy because his brother (who was visibly offended by Mako lamp-shading his career-hopping) snatched away a tray of cupcakes a moment before. Still, Wu is quick to reassure him that it’s not like that at all, and delivers the news of Guan and quickly makes a case that it’s the practical thing to do considering the political climate. Mako immediately agrees after that, and quickly flips his script to “we’ll keep you safe”. And Wu’s triple “yes” response with an excited fist in the air is enough of a Wuko moment for me.

When they leave Zhu Li’s office, yet another visual Korrasami/Wuko parallel. Korra and Asami are in the back holding hands, and Mako and Wu are in the front with Wu’s arm draped around Mako’s shoulders. Wu is very happy that Mako is coming along. Says they should get a smoothie to celebrate, and it’ll be just like old times! I’m sure Wu missed Mako. Mako doesn’t seem quite as thrilled but at this point it's really just Mako’s face. He just always looks like that. Who knows what he’s thinking inside.

What this means for Wuko

So if you are writing some fanfic or just coming up with headcanons with the comics in mind, there is a lot of material to work with right away. They are in close proximity for most of their scenes. Wu is accepted by the Krew, and he is buddy-buddy enough with Korra to presume he’s probably been talking to her outside of the scenes depicted in the comics. So there’s some potential for wingman or matchmaker Korra, or at the very least she will be happy and supportive of them getting together since she has warmed up to Wu a lot. Both Mako and Wu have matured enough that a healthy relationship is within reach. Wu clearly has affection toward Mako, and Mako still has that protective instinct toward Wu, even if he looks like he’s not having a great time (But like I said, he looks like that all the time, so I'm pretty sure he just has resting bitch face).

So that is about the halfway point of book 1. The next post I will talk about the second half of book 1. Some things to look forward to: a sauna scene, Mako, Bolin and Wu giving Kuvira the Bitchiest collective look ever, and Wu casually telling Mako that he loves him.

Wuko in Turf War

Wuko in RotE part 2

[nsheetee]

take it off

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff, slight College AU Length: 3.5k Warnings/Details: mature content (unprotected sex, oral [male receiving], slight exhibitionism), mentions of fwb, mentions of Johnny Summary:  In which you and Mark are friends with benefits, and Mark tries to tell you he wants to be more. a/n: minors, please beware; there is mature content in this writing

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Mark’s fingers can’t stop moving. From the volume knob on the radio, to the random receipts that are squished into his cup holders, to tapping a random rhythm on his steering wheel. It’s his nerves. Mark’s stomach is churning and there’s so much uneasiness in him that he can only let out through his fingers.

Tonight, Mark’s going to confess his feelings for you.

He’s not sure if this is the right time, or if you feel the same, or even exactly what he plans to say, but he’s going to tell you something tonight. You and Mark have been fooling around behind your friends’ back for a semester and half now. Your parking passes had you parking next to each other last semester, and constantly seeing each other before and after classes made Mark interested enough to ask you out on a coffee date.

The coffee date ended with a short make out session in his car, but neither of you were going to complain about that. So, that one date birthed the beginning of your friends with benefits relationship with Mark. He cringes every time he calls the thing between you two “friends with benefits.” Mark would like to say you’re two separate people who call each other up when you need to let go of your frustrations and stress. In reality, you two really are friends; the “separate” part is where things get fuzzy.

You’ve never met Mark’s friends and he has never met yours, but you’ve cried on his shoulder about school, a red eyed and snot filled nose sight only seen by him. Mark knows where the birthmarks are on your body and could probably guess how many moles you have on your thighs, but he doesn’t know what you want to do after college— what your dreams, goals, and aspirations are.

Mark wants to know. He wants to hold you after fucking you and he wants to hear about how your day was. As corny and cliche as that sounds, Mark yearns for it, but only with you. And that’s how he knows his heart has crash landed on you, and he can’t go another day without telling you his real feelings.

When you slide into the passenger seat of Mark’s car, he turns in the driver’s seat to face you. You don’t have make up on and your hair’s down, but you still have on your jewelry from today. You smile at Mark, looking a bit tired but he’ll never tell you that to your face.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about” Your voice is low and light, bouncing off of the center console and clutching onto Mark’s heart. It’s only now that Mark realizes what you’re wearing. A big, white t-shirt, much bigger than you and much bigger than Mark. It covers your shorts and thighs, and the short sleeves are long enough on you to almost reach your elbows. Mark recognizes the brand that’s painted on the chest; it’s a men’s brand.

“What are you wearing?”

“Is that why you called me down here, from my warm bed, to ask me what I’m wearing?” You laugh, genuinely amused. “If you asked me that on the phone, I could’ve told you.” Your voice turns slightly teasing and suggestive, but Mark doesn’t waver on his question.

“Seriously, w-what are you wearing.” Mark blinks at you, his eyes trained on the logo. “Where did you get it?” From what Mark knows, you haven’t seen anyone since you’ve started sleeping with him. It was the one thing you both agreed on: If you wanted to sleep with other people, you would break up your agreement to avoid confusion and fuss from anyone in the situation. Mark may be jumping to conclusions here, but he can’t help it. He needs to know if there’s someone else before he says what he plans to tell you.

“The shirt? It’s Johnny’s.”

“Who’s that.” It doesn’t sound like a question. Your sleepy eyes widen as you watch Mark. He looked so soft when you first sat in his car; curly black hair peeking out of his hoodie and basketball shorts riding up his thighs. Now, not much has changed, other than Mark’s white knuckle tight grip on the steering wheel and his usual starry eyes piercing into you.

“He’s a few years older than us, in my major.” Something between your thighs stirs as Mark’s jaw clenches for a second, “I got this shirt from him when mine got dirty during our pottery class.”

The explanation is valid. This Johnny person just seems like an older guy who’s trying to help someone younger in his same major. Mark would’ve liked it if someone did the same to him. However, your answer does not satiate Mark’s curiosity.

“So, like, why are you wearing it now?”

“It’s comfy, and Johnny told me to keep it, so why wouldn’t I—”

“Take it off.” Mark’s words stun you, but his tone doesn’t. You’ve heard that tone before, on the nights Mark has a bit too much stress from exams or a bit too much adrenaline after winning a basketball game. Your thighs clench together at his gravelly voice and your jaw drops slightly.

“What?” Mark’s stomach tightens at that tone you’re using with him, like you’re innocent when in reality you’re filthy.

“I said, take it off.” Mark is blinded by a green hue on his mind. He has lots he wants to say to you, but his dick wins over his mind for the time being.

Not really wanting to find out what happens if you don’t do as Mark says, you drop your phone and dorm keys into the cup holder and grip the edges of the shirt. The fabric teases your thighs, running up your stomach, and then your chest until you’re sitting bare in Mark’s passenger seat. Your nipples harden, partially from the arousal beginning to course through you and partially from the sudden change in temperature.

Mark grabs the fabric from your fingers and rolls down his window a few inches, tossing it outside and leaving the window open.

“Why did you do that?” You pout, already sensing the answer from the envious look in his eyes.

“You won’t be needing that right now.” Mark takes your hand in his, softly bringing you to his side of the car, his actions different from the voice he’s currently using with you. The move is slightly awkward but you manage to straddle Mark’s lap, not for long though. In one swift move, Mark pushes back his seat and leans back slightly, resting one arm behind his head and the other pushing you down onto your knees between his seat at the steering wheel.

“Here? In your car?” You whisper, your breath tickling the skin of Mark’s tummy that became exposed when he leaned back. You’re in the parking lot of your dorm at night, but that doesn’t mean that no one could walk by your car. You notice how the window is still rolled down a few inches. Mark was always a bit iffy about doing anything super sexual out in public, so this new side of him made butterflies rumble in your stomach, your mouth already slightly watering at how you can make him moan loud enough so that if someone does walk by, they’ll hear how good you make him feel.

“Yeah, here.” Mark answers, using his free hand to move your hair away from your face. He quickly leans down to press his lips to yours, the first kiss of the night. It’s shallow but full of heat already, making you almost lose your balance on your knees and float towards Mark when he pulls away, your eyes slow to open.

Your hands pull down the waistband of Mark’s shorts and underwear at the same time, one hand reaching to pull out his cock. He’s starting to get hard, but you help him along with a firm grip on his member while your thumb runs along that one protruding vein and your tongue kitten licks his tip. Mark’s eyes close and he hums, his grip on your hair tightening.

You lean back to spit on your hand a bit, running it up and down his length as you start to suckle on his tip. Your rings are cold around his soft skin, and the constant moving of them on his dick has Mark’s breathing deepening.

Eventually, you take Mark in your mouth, using your hand on what you can’t take yet. Mark doesn’t seem impatient, but he still uses his grip on your hair to pull you down all of the way until your nose is hitting his short happy trail and his tip is grazing the back of your throat. Somewhere in all the mess, his hoodie and t-shirt was thrown into the passenger's seat leaving Mark in his silver chain, and you only realize it when you look up at him.

You breathe through your nose to keep your pace going, but soon regain some control and slow down.

“H-Holy fuck.” Mark stutters at the new feeling. “You’re doing good, babe, just like that.” He praises you, stomach muscles tightening and arm muscles flexing. You hum around his cock, watching his eyes screw shut for a moment at the feeling.

You love watching his fucked out expression from down here, but your focus goes back to what’s in your mouth. Your tongue presses against Mark’s dick, experimentally swirling it around when you come up. Mark chokes out a groan, his hips jerking at the sensation and you’re pleased with his reaction, repeating what you just did.

“Wait, w-wait.” Mark pulls you away, “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Let me make you feel good. Let me make you come.” Your voice sounds raw from the amount of times Mark’s dick hit the back of your throat, but you don’t mind the sensation.

“You have made me feel good, so much.” It seems he has other plans as he brings your lips together in another kiss, this one longer and more heated than the first.

A few months ago, Mark would’ve thought it was gross to kiss someone like this, with Mark’s own precum on their lips and saliva dripping down their chin. But now, it makes Mark pull you closer to his chest, making you rise up from your spot on the floor and straddle him once again.

His lips push yours open until you let him stick his tongue in your mouth. He won’t stop, something in his movements keeps him moving as if he’s trying to prove something or get a point across. The thought leaves your head as soon as it comes, too focused on how Mark can make you clench around nothing just buy how his tongue sucks on yours.

That’s when you feel his nimble fingers, skin rough from gliding against a basketball five days a week and full of calluses from years of playing guitar. His middle finger glides over your clothed core, soaked through your shorts, and he can’t help but smile. You pull away to look at him and see the constellations in his eyes, some strands of his wavy hair soaked and sticking to his forehead while his mouth is wet from kissing you.

“What is it?”

“Hmm, nothing. You’re just so lovely,” He kisses your jaw, “And sweet,” He presses a hot open mouth kiss against your neck, his tongue darting out for just a moment to slide over the area, “And so, so fucking hot.” He presses another kiss to the valley between your breasts. The pressure of his fingers over your shorts is driving you mad; you just want to feel his skin on yours. So you pull down your shorts and panties all in one move, Mark helping you get them off of your legs and throwing them on top of his discarded hoodie.

His fingers lay flat against your bare pussy, and you shiver at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers. Mark continues his slow kisses along your chest, his middle finger now pushing into your hole. The feeling is almost overwhelming; you didn’t realize how wet and hot you got while sucking Mark’s dick, but now that he has a finger in you, you can’t help but clamp down around it as he moves in and out.

You both hiss at the feeling, your hands finding Mark’s shoulders to balance yourself, and he adds another finger after a few seconds. Mark moves his fingers in and out of you and scissors them, making your thighs shake and causing you to roll your head back. Mark removes his fingers, making you squirm with want and grind up into nothing.

“Be patient, doll. I’ll fuck you good, I promise.” He puts his fingers in his mouth, the two that were just in you, and sucks your juices off. You lick your lips at the sight, your fingers sliding down his bare chest to hook onto his chain and bring him closer to you for another kiss, but Mark has other plans.

“Turn around.” You’re confused, but do as he tells you. During the few times you’ve ridden him, Mark has always preferred you to face him. But Mark is surprising you in many ways tonight, so you let him do as he wishes. The new view makes you realize where you are again, the parking lot. No one is walking around now, but you wonder if someone has walked by your car and heard Mark’s moans or seen your bare back. The thought makes you bite your lip and your pussy throbs, a shaky sigh leaving your chest.

One of your hands grips onto the driver’s seat between Mark’s legs and the other grips the dashboard as you hear Mark pumping his length. You jump a bit when you feel his tip touch your folds, an involuntary whine slipping past your lips. You may not be able to see anything Mark is doing, but the surprise of it all makes you twice as sensitive.

Mark’s tip rubs up and down your folds again, making you wiggle your hips, signalling you want Mark to get his dick in you already. You hear him hum from behind you, and grabs your hip with one hand to lower you down and the other guides himself into you. When he bottoms out, you moan lowly, and then both sit in silence for a second.

Mark leans forward to kiss the delicate skin of your back, his hands massaging your sides while they move up and down your waist and hips. He’s not greedy with sharing his kisses, planting them wherever his lips can reach. His touch and kiss and the wholesome feeling of him being in you makes you move, sliding up and then back down enough to have both of you groaning at the friction.

You try to set a pace, but Mark’s grip on your hip slows you down once again. “Slow, babe, slow. I wanna take you slow.” You oblige, rolling your hips slower than before and arching your back so that Mark can hit the sweet spot inside of you. The new angle makes it easier, and you feel like he’s filling you up more and more with each slow stroke, almost lazy in how languid and sensual each movement on his dick is.

Mark’s right hand reaches for your clit, alternating between tapping on the bundle of nerves and circling his calloused finger. His other hand wraps around and plays with your nipple, squeezing it every so often.

All the stimulation quickly becomes too much for you; you’re not sure where to look, what to do with your hands, at this point you aren’t even aware at what sounds are coming out of your mouth. You find your hands now gripping the steering wheel, your forehead leaning against them and your jaw slacked open as Mark does not slow down with his fingers and you do not dare rush your hips, your thighs burning and your muscles clenching.

“Mark, you feel— Oh, fuck.” You can’t even form a proper sentence, but you don’t care when Mark’s hips start to move up and meet yours with every thrust. His hand leaves your chest to steady you by gripping your waist, but his other hand only speeds up on your clit.

When you accidentally press the horn, you don’t think it’s you who did it. Your eyes open and your head pops up to look out of the windshield, but the condensation on the windows obstructs your view. You only realize that you’re the one who honked when you see the placement of your hands.

“Shit—” You almost laugh at how you got carried away, but you’re glad you saved your breath. Mark’s hips speed up insanely fast, and suddenly he’s thrusting into you with precision. His cock moves in and out of you so fast that you can hear wet noises coming from your pussy and the clapping of skin coming together.

“Oh, God, Mark please don’t stop.” Your words come out choppy as your whole body moves with Mark’s motions. Your tits bounce up and down, your hips move to Mark’s rhythm without you even trying, and his car is shaking from side to side.

“I won’t stop if you tell me who’s making you feel this good.” Mark presses one finger hard onto your clit, making you gasp through your next words.

“You— You, it’s you, Mark.” You feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach, your walls clenching at the delicious feeling of your high coming to its furthest point. “I’m gonna come. For you, Mark.”

“Come on me, babe.” With those words, the knot in your stomach breaks, making each and everyone of your nerves sizzle with heat and pleasure. You feel Mark come undone below you, his hips stuttering until you feel him fill you up and push some of his cum into you as his hips gradually slow down.

You both take a second to catch your breaths, your grip still tight on the steering wheel in front of you, now mindful of the horn, and Mark’s grip is still tight on your hips and waist. You feel his hot breath hit your back and he gently pulls out of you, moving you to sit on his lap as you both lean back in the driver’s seat.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. Maybe you should’ve noticed something off about Mark sooner, and maybe you should’ve brought the question up before fucking each other, but now that whatever emotions were brewing in both of you have been physically released, hopefully Mark can speak more comfortably.

“There was something I needed to tell you…” You turn your head to the right to see Mark's expression. He’s glancing down at his thumb that rubs circles around your hip bone.

“Not who’s shirt I’m wearing?” You’re not teasing him, but Mark giggles at his earlier jealousy. For a split second, it’s hard to believe this is the same guy you were riding just a few minutes ago.

“No. I’m sorry I got so… forceful and possessive. I have no right to do that.” Mark talks with his heart, and he realizes now is a perfect segway into bringing up his feelings. “But I want to.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, but you already know what Mark is about to say, and your stomach churns as you brace yourself.

“I want to do this, what we’ve been doing so far,” He laughs awkwardly, “And more. I want to meet the people in your life and— maybe, I don’t know, go on dates or somethin’.” Mark still hasn’t met your gaze, and the lack of eye contact makes him keep rambling. “Maybe we could study together and meet up before class and— I just want to be more than what we are now. I want to mean more to you than just a fuck buddy.”

“You’re not just a fuck buddy to me, Mark.” You reassure him, cutting him off by turning his chin with your fingertips and making him look at you. “I do have to admit… I don’t have those types of feelings for you.” Your confession makes Mark’s stomach drop and he looks away, suddenly feeling very shy and almost ashamed. His heart plummets and he thinks he might’ve just screwed up; he’s already cursing himself out in his head.

“Mark.” You make his attention turn back to you when you realize he’s already overthinking your words, “You are someone important to me. I trust you in a way that I don’t even trust some of my closest friends. I think… maybe we can see where this goes? Just… take it slow?”

“Really?” Mark’s voice is shaky, as if he was holding his breath this whole time and he finally let it out. Mark didn’t know what he was expecting when he decided to tell you his feelings. He was not expecting you to jump into his arms and live happily ever after, but this is probably the best way tonight could’ve gone.

“Yeah, really.” You sooth, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Okay— Yeah, let’s do that. I promise, I’ll make it worth it.”

“You don’t have to promise me that. I already know you’ll be.”