#and it had told me i was broadcasting the whole time and when i closed the game it said it ended broadcast there

[kurthorton]

have to work when im tired and in a bad mood hate this

[slutforpringles]

Yeah, it was a strange one the way it played out. To be honest, the more I've spoken to some of the parties involved and the more has kind of emerged, the less clear it's got actually how it's been handled, which I'd like to say is unusual in Formula One. Maybe it's not because people don't always act in F1 with their true intentions upfront. But I think the way you described it as [Daniel] processing it in real time and learning it at the same time as us, I think it's pretty much how it happened. The key thing was that Ricciardo was aware that something was going on. He's not immune to speculation. He tries not to engage with it too much, but obviously either he or the people around him are feeding him the main things. He knew that there was a deadline approaching for a decision, which primarily he thought was all about 2025. The main thing that changed was going into the Singapore weekend, the speculation had intensified that it could be about right now, a change right now. But when they went into the Singapore weekend, I know there's been a few reports and claims and counter claims around this, Helmut Marko, for example, has said that Riccardo did know because Lawson had known for two weeks already. But I don't think that's true. Bear in mind, Marko has been saying at various points this year that it could be Ricciardo's last race … I was on the phone to someone close to Riccardo last week and he joked that 'we've been sacked since April, so this hasn't really come out of the blue', that's what they've been dealing with. But I think what happened was that Ricciardo took control of the narrative over the course of the Singapore weekend. As far as I can understand, the best I can make out, nobody told Riccardo explicitly, this is your last race, we will be replacing you after this. He knew that there was a very, very good chance, probably 99% chance he was losing his drive for Lawson for the following year. And then there started to be more and more noise about it being a change for now. But he had been told during the summer break that he was good for the rest of the season, basically. So I think he was reacting to the speculation. Nobody gave him an absolutely explicit, this is 100% done and we are going to confirm that Lawson's in and you're out. So Riccardo went into the Singapore weekend saying everything he said on the Thursday, which was, you know, I wouldn't bet my house on being here at the end of the year, but that's what I expect. As far as he was aware, it was all about 25, nothing else, blah, blah, blah. But then through the weekend, you saw that change. You know, he was kind of as you said, processing it, the speculation was more intense than ever. Some of the broadcast, like the Sky Sports F1 stuff was very much laying it on thick that they understood this was his last race, etc etc. And I think Riccardo just rolled with that and just went right, Red Bull aren't going to do anything here, they're not actually going to make this official. I need to act like this is my last race weekend because I think this is going to be my last race weekend. And if I don't do it, no one's going to do it for me, which is a really sad way for it to have played out, but it just speaks to how confusing this whole mess has been.

Scott Mitchell Malm discussing how Daniel's Singapore exit was handled by Red Bull and the subsequent false media narratives that have since emerged from various players involved.

via: The Ringer F1 Show

[barcaatthemoon]

quiet time || patri guijarro x reader ||

You and Patri spend a night in together.

18+

The Olympics were bittersweet to say the least. Despite both you and Patri going to Paris, the two of you hadn't been able to see much of each other. Patri's games hadn't went the way that she had hoped, but you were still insanely proud of her. Just as her time in Paris began to die down, yours seemed to pick up. A single radio broadcast had made you a fan favorite, and suddenly your news outlet was pushing you to the forefront and having you make content with athletes all over the village.

You were glad for what was essentially a promotion, even if it meant that you were super busy now. Patri didn't seem to care about that past the fact that you were obviously upset about the lack of quality time. She was happy for you, and the two of you had a night to celebrate in a flurry of meetings and broadcasts, but that was it. You wanted more, and Patri knew just how much you needed more from her.

That was why on your shared day off, Patri kept you at arm's length the whole day. You couldn't even go to the bathroom without Patri waiting outside of the door for you. It was sweet, and you knew that she was sticking so close because it was what you needed. She wanted to be close to you, but not in such an innocent way. You could see it when she looked at you as she tugged you down onto her lap for a bit.

"You're squirming," Patri noted. You glanced over your shoulder at her, immediately noting the change in her eyes. They were a bit darker, and you knew it was only a matter of time before she just tossed you off of her lap to have her way with you. You closed your eyes as you thought about the countless times that Patri had just sort of spontaneously bent you over the back of the couch because she just had to have you in that moment. "What are you thinking about?"

"Do you really have to ask?" you asked.

Patri shook her head as she smiled at you, "No, but I want to hear you say it." Both you and Patri just sort of stared at each other for a moment before you turned your whole body around to face hers.

"I want you," you told her. Patri reached up and cupped your cheeks. She pulled you in for a kiss, and your lips parted immediately for hers. Patri's tongue slipped past your lips, tasting you properly for the first time in far too long. "Take me."

Patri picked you up as she stood to carry you into the bedroom. You let yourself wrap around her completely. Patri didn't kiss you on the way back into the bedroom, but your lips never left her neck. There would be marks there, but you'd be nice enough to take care of them before she left for training in the morning. You didn't really want anybody staring at Patri like that anyway.

"These are coming off," Patri said as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of your leggings. You thought for a moment that she'd leave you bare, but Patri was careful to keep your underwear on. You could tell that she wanted to carefully undress you instead of rushing through it.

Patri's hands massaged up your calves as her lips trailed along your thighs. You were squirming beneath her the higher her lips moved. Her hands replaced her lips on your thighs, steadying her as she leaned over your body and pressed a few kisses to your lips. You tried to grind against her hands, but Patri was strategic in the placement of her body, subtly pinning you beneath her.

"Use your words. Tell me what you want, mi amor," Patri told you. You let out a small whine, acting as if speaking was the biggest inconvenience in the world to you. Patri already knew what you wanted, and yet, she was still taking things at a snail's pace just to make you squirm and beg for it.

"I want you to fuck me Patri, please. It feels like it's been forever since you've touched me." You set aside your pride as you looked up at her and pouted. If things were any different, she would have teased you for how pathetic you were acting. You probably wouldn't have given her words much mind, especially since you knew they'd be coming with her thrusting as deeply inside of you as she could, fucking you breathless.

"Nothing fast or rough today," Patri told you. You nodded as she started to push your shirt up your body. Her mouth kissed a very familiar trail along the newly revealed skin. You bit your lip as the two of you finally made eye contact, your shirt now clutched in Patri's hand as she stared down at you. Her eyes flicked down to your chest, glancing appreciatively at what was on display.

Patri sat back and slowly stripped herself of her clothing. You couldn't take your eyes off of her body, no matter how hard you tried not to just gawk at her. Patri constantly reassured you that it was fine to look, but you were always a little hesitant with her. Patri quickly took notice of this and guided your hands onto her body.

The two of you mirrored each other's movements, hands venturing lower and lower. Patri's fingers took the first swipe at you, spreading your wetness all over your cunt. You sat up slightly and did the same to her. Patri shuddered at your touch, and you felt a surge of pride run through you.

"I've been thinking about this for so long," Patri mumbled as she leaned down to kiss you. The two of you stayed locked in a passionate exchange of kisses. Neither one of you strayed far from the other, alternating kisses on each other's lips, jawlines, and necks. You quickly found yourself winded and stuck gasping a little for your breath in between moans and kisses, but you didn't mind.

You had Patri close, and that was what mattered. You cared more about the feeling of her cunt clenching around your fingers than the burning in your lungs. Patri was in a similar state to you, broken strings of Spanish and Catalan swear words falling from her lips as she began to buck her hips against your hand.

"Patri, I'm close," you warned. Patri doubled down, adding a bit of pressure onto your clit with her thumb. You let out a loud cry into the bedroom in pleasure. Patri's hips stuttered as the howling moan left your lips, and you could tell then and there that she had cum. You could feel her dripping into your hand as her body held your fingers hostage inside of her.

Shamelessly, you soaked her hand soon after. Patri looked proud of herself as she brought her fingers up to her lips. You watched attentively as Patri cleaned your cum from her fingers. You flopped back against the mattress with a heaving chest as you tried to even out your breathing. Patri moved to straddle you once again, this time with a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"I think that we are staying here for now," Patri told you. You nodded in agreement, more than happy to lay with her for the rest of the week in all honesty. "You did good for me. You always know what I want."

"I think that you forget that I want you just as badly as I want you." You pulled Patri's hand up to your mouth and kissed the back of it.

"Impossible, but I'll let you think that for now," Patri laughed. You rolled your eyes at her as you began pouting, something that Patri was quick kiss off of your face.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Lucifer was going deer hunting.

Charlie had looked over the damage that the fire caused and was heartbroken that such a beautiful garden got destroyed. When he told her it was Alastor that set the fire, she didn't believe him at first, saying that he blamed everything on Alastor.

Which was kinda true. But Lucifer had good reason and this time it was true!

Lucifer found himself in front of Alastors door and pounded on it. When the radio demon opened the door, Alastor didn't even get a greeting out as Lucifer punched him in the face. "You set Adam's fucking garden on fire?! What the fuck is wrong with you, you could have burnt the whole hotel down."

"Ha! Like I would have let that happen. I'm more careful than that."

Lucifer glared. "The fuck is your problem?"

"You! You and your stupid little boy toy who seem to have a slice of heaven here in Hell. Your happiness and relationship makes me sick, but you're not special in that case I hate most couples...." Alastor grinned even wider. "Nobody bests me, no one! I do have only one regret about the fire."

"Yeah and what's that?"

"That your precious little boyfriend wasn't in there to burn with it. His screams of agony would have been entertaining for my broadcast."

Lucifer had heard enough and he had had enough of this fucker. He brought out his full demon form and used his claws to cut open Alastors guts in one swipe.

Alastor fell to the ground, stunned that he had been hit so quickly without warning.

Lucifer stood over him, hatred and anger pumping in his veins. "How about I fucking remind you as to why I'm the King around here. No one, and I mean NO ONE hurts my family or threatens to."

-

Adam sighed as he placed the plant back in the night table. He can't sleep so he might as well get to cleaning up the mess that was left of his garden.

When he got down to where the garden was, he saw the light was on. Adam walked over and gasped.

It was all cleaned up.

"Hey, I was hoping to surprise you in the morning." Lucifer said as he removed gloves that were covered in dirt.

Brand new pots with new seeds filled the newly replaced greenhouse, the glass was fixed and it looked like the day it was given to him.

"You did this for me?" Adam was amazed.

Lucifer came over and cupped his face. "I'd do anything for you." He had to pull a few favors to get everything cleaned up and replaced this quickly but man was it worth it for the look on Adam's face. "I even got that man eating plant from Wrath."

"Really? Oh thank you!" Adam hugged Lucifer close and kissed his face. "How often do I feed it?"

"Every day, once a day. But it's good for today, I fed it earlier."

Adam raised a brow. "You did?"

"Yup! Let's just say, it enjoys deer meat."

[storm-angel989]

Outside The Office Part Eleven

Several hours and at least one full video shoot later, I stood between Valentino and Velvette in the elevator as we descended towards Vox’s studio. Valentino had called her up to fix the mess that was my face as soon as he ensured I was physically and emotionally ready to go back out into the studio with him.  

To her credit, Velvette took the destruction of her hard work in stride, dabbing a different concoction of creams and powders on my face. The ibuprofen from the morning had long since worn off, and every inch of my body was back to aching. On the bright side, it hurt less than this earlier in the day, or even last night. Even Velvette commented that the remainder of the blues had turned green, and most of the greens turned yellow, causing her to use a whole different set of makeup. 

“You nervous, babe?” Velvette asked, arms crossed as we headed down. She tilted her head to one side and studied me. 

I shrugged, biting back the nerves that simmered inside my chest. “I mean. My father used to throw me in front of angry reporters and speak when he was too busy, or didn’t care to do it himself. So, how much worse could this be?”

Valentino set his jaw and Velvette scowled. I could have swore I heard her say fucked up angels, but I couldn’t be sure. The door opened and Valentino paused, kissing the top of my head so as to not mess with my makeup. 

“See you tonight, Princessa. Have fun.” He stepped back into the elevator and the door closed. 

I turned to Velvette, and followed her across the studio to Vox’s office. 

“I know my way around Vel, I don’t need an escort. You can go do whatever you need to do.” I told her. 

“This is what I need to do. Your makeup needs to be adjusted based on the lighting, so for the next hour you’re stuck with me.” She pushed open the door to Vox’s main control room and strode in as if she owned the entire studio. “Vox! We’re here!” 

From the center of the control room, Vox spun around in his chair to face us. He grinned when he saw her, his smile literally lighting up the room. “Ah, Velvette. How are you on this hellish morning? Or is it afternoon?” He pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

Velvette rolled her eyes but I saw the pink rise in her cheeks. She definitely wasn’t one to show too much emotion, but when you’re in love…I guess your body has a way of showing it, regardless of what your brain thinks. 

“Cut the shit Vox. She’s here, on time. Ready to go. So…let’s go.” She tapped her foot impatiently. 

“Oh my little…” Vox began. 

She pressed her finger to his lips, effectively cutting him off. “Not here. Not now. Let’s go. There is work to be done!” 

Vox rolled his eyes but looked at me. He picked up his laptop and full coffee mug. “Alright, guess we better get going. Come, come. Follow me.” 

He led us over to what was clearly a broadcast set. Two comfortable looking chairs took up the space, one tucked neatly behind a desk and the other next to it, just off to the side.The careful arrangement to capture only the best view of both occupants was obvious. I looked up and saw the multitude of cameras pointed, capturing every angle of the occupants of the chairs. The nervous feeling buzzed as it settled in my chest. This was much, much more different than the wooden podiums I was used to.

Vox led us behind the stage, pushing open a door. The room behind it was large, with multiple chair and mirror sets lined neatly against the side wall. At the moment, there were no actors or actresses skittering around, frantically trying to get dressed. The room seemed almost too empty with just the three of us. 

“Hey, most people don’t give a shit who sees them naked. But I brought in a divider so you have privacy.” He nodded towards the corner. “But there shouldn’t be anyone in here anyway. I scheduled all my programming earlier this morning.”

“Alright, enough chatter. Or if you need to chatter, at least sit in the chair while I fix that mess of hair,” Velvettle ordered with exasperation. 

I took a seat and she set to work. Vox sat in the empty chair next to us, typing away on his laptop.

“So, how is this going to go down? Can you give me a run through?” I asked as Velvette shuffled around me. 

“Simple really. I host the most popular morning show in the seven rings of hell. You’ll walk out, sit in the guest seat and answer the questions I ask. Don’t worry about looking at the camera, or messing up. I’ll personally edit everything after to make sure it’s perfect.” Vox answered. 

“Oh, personal edits. You’re so special. Usually he pushes that grunt work off on his employees.” Velvette teased as she ran a hand through my hair, separating the long strands. 

“Yeah well, it’s not every day you out the Princess of Hell to all the universe,” Vox muttered as he took a sip of his coffee. 

I thought back to my conversation with Angel Dust. “Yeah, I have questions about that. Like…why am I the Princess of Hell? Doesn’t Lucifer have kids?” I asked. 

“Oh I wish. Maybe then our next ruler would be more like me and less like my sweet sister.” Lucifer’s voice appeared behind us. “Actually, scratch that. That may not be the best idea.” 

Velvette was the only one who didn’t jump, completely unphased by his presence as she continued her work. Lucifer leaned over, putting both his hands on my shoulders. I looked at the reflection of our faces in the mirror. Under the bright light, I could see some of the semblance between him and I. 

“Heard about your little outburst earlier. Wanted to check in, answer any questions and provide a little guidance on what to say before this all goes down.” He gave Vox a meaningful look. 

Vox simply raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his coffee. “Outburst?” 

Well. It was now or never.  “ What the fuck happened earlier and why am I Princess of Hell and not your kids?” I demanded. 

“Settle down,” Velvette mumbled. “I’m trying to work here.” 

Lucifer laughed. “Simple answer to the second.I don’t have any. And don’t plan on it. You’ve been on the roster as the successor to hell since the day you were born, kiddo.” 

“Well, what if that changes and you have kids? Does the title transfer to them?” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I assure you it won’t. But no. I signed the line over to you, your mother and father as my witnesses. Not that you’ll take my place for another twenty or thirty thousand years anyway. Maybe longer if I feel like it. I like my job, and I’m not eager to retire.”

He could have thrown ice cold water over me and that would have shocked less than his words. .“Lucifer, my father knew?”

“Of course. Signature on the title and everything, We all thought it best. I was just content to let the man raise you up living your best life in heaven. Or at least what I thought was happening. If I had known exactly how that man was treating you I would have come and brought you down here with me much, much sooner.” He clasped both of my shoulders and leaned forward.  “Oh well. Nothing we can do about it now.” 

Velvette gave him an irritated look. “Do you mind? You’re in my way and messing up my artwork.”

Lucifer grinned. “Right. Sorry about that.” He let go and took a step back. “Back to your first question. I reviewed the footage Vox sent me and Valentino answered it perfectly. Much like your angelic side, your demonic side gives you certain…abilities. At all levels, demons can manifest and harness energy that surrounds them to use as they please. The more souls they own, the more energy they can harness and the more things they can do with that energy.” He glanced at Vox and Velvette. “You’re sitting next to three of the most powerful beings in hell right now. Neither of them are anywhere close to me, of course. But with the amount of souls they control, the more energy, the more power they can control.”

“So why did I, unintentionally harness and spew uncontrollable energy around Val, but couldn’t fight off the demons a few days ago?” I asked. “Because this newfound ability would have saved me a lot of unnecessary pain.” 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Simple. Your father taught you to shut down your emotions. To not feel pain, to hold in the anger, frustration, happiness, fear, sadness and the plethora of other emotions that make us who we are. Instead of  acknowledging and expressing emotions, Angels teach themselves to ignore the feelings, push them down deep inside, spouting lies that emotions cloud logic. They claim emotions lead to irrational decisions, when in reality logic and emotion balanced together allow us to control ourselves, and in our case, the energy around us. You cannot ignore how you feel. To do so is a disservice, both to yourself and the world around you. If you want to maintain control, and use the power your demon half blessed you wish, you can’t shut your emotions out.  I promise you, with the right blend of logic and emotion, you will be able to manifest that power and wield it as you desire.”

He paused before continuing.  “The night you were injured, when I saw you as battered as you were, I was ready to kill both Vox and Valentino, and anyone else who got in my way. I stopped not only because you begged, but because as soon as you realized what was going on, you unconsciously began to  harness and radiate that energy, and allowed those emotions to slip ever so slightly out of the wall you’ve so tightly built. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me pause.”

I frowned as I tried to remember. “I didn’t feel anything.” 

“Neutral face.” Velvette reminded me, tilting my chin up towards the light. 

“Of course you didn’t, you were barely able to stand. But it was there, however brief it may have been. And now that you know it exists, and how it works you can start to control it, harness it. Feelings and logic, sweetie pie. You’ll get the hang of it.” Lucifer’s phone pinged and he scowled and checked it before shoving it back into his pocket. 

For a couple of moments, the only sound in the studio came from Velvette’s brushes and Vox’s typing. 

“So what now? What do I do after this?” I asked. “And how do I go about mastering that….logic and emotion?” 

“Well, you could start by communicating when you hurt instead of sitting there biting the inside of your cheek every time a makeup brush touches your face,” he said, as if it was obvious. “Acknowledging the emotions and pain you feel would be a great start. As for the other questions…” Lucifer considered for a moment. “Once word gets out about your existence, we will address that. For now I want you to go out there, be the charming, bright little half angel you are, and then stick closer than close to these two.” He gestured to Vox and Velvette, “and the one upstairs. At least until things settle down. Both heaven and hell will be in an uproar over your position.” 

“In the meantime though, we still go about our daily routines. Once you’re okay enough to go back out with us each night that’s exactly what we’re going to do. You can’t hide- that shows weakness. No, you’ll be out there, a shining, lethal star to the public.” Vox added. 

Lucifer nodded and I heard his phone ping again. He cursed softly. “That’s all the time I have. Text me, kiddo if you need anything.” He leaned forward and lightly kissed the top of my head before vanishing. 

Silence among the three of us. 

“I lowkey hate how he can do that.” I said finally. “Vanish in and out like that. Can all demons do it?” 

“Nah. That privilege is exclusively limited to the Morningstar line. You probably could, if you owned enough souls. And of course, mastered the emotions, logic thing. It isn’t that hard, really.” Velvette said. She reached around and patted my hand. “We’ll get you there. Don’t you worry.” 

Nausea washed over me at the very idea of owning a soul. Or maybe it was from the pain. “I have no desire to have ownership over someone else. My natural born abilities should be more than enough.”

“You might find that someday that changes,” Vox said, looking up from his laptop. “Someday when you see a soul that needs help, and you can offer that help- but need her soul to be bound to you and to hell in order to offer that assistance. Sounds sappy, but all of our first contracts fit that general plot. That’s why they all sucked.”

“Truth. I think Valentino is the only one still bound to his first contract. Mine was ripped apart years ago.” Velvette added.

Vox concurred. “Yeah. I got rid of mine too.”

“Then why is Val still bound to his?” I asked.

“The wording. And before you ask, no. You can’t see it. You don’t want to.” Vox responded, looking down at his screen. He cursed quietly under his breath.

“How do I even write a contract? I’m good, but I’m not a lawyer.” I protested. 

Velvette leaned over. “Babe you’re getting ahead of yourself. That’s probably a long way off. But to answer your question- the three of us are experts. We won’t string you up and leave you like we were.” She squeezed my shoulder in another rare show of comfort. “Now shush. Then I need you to get dressed.” 

With makeup and hair finished, we stepped behind the divider Vox had put up. Velvette helped me out of that morning's outfit, slipping me into a pretty long sleeved, v-neck, knee length white dress with a dainty pearl belt. On my legs, I wore pantyhose that concealed all the cuts and bruises. The V necklace remained, and I stepped into pretty white, low heels.

“My goal here is to make you as angelic as possible. So when I dress you up in real clothes for when we go out, people won’t have that image of you. It’ll keep you a little more hidden, for the time being at least,” Velvette explained as she dabbed coverage around my neck and chest, concealing any marks the dress didn’t. 

“Will people be angry?” I asked as she stepped back to study me.  

She was quiet for a moment before she sighed. “Probably. I mean, Lucifer has literally ruled hell with no heir for all of eternity. But honestly, its the angels I’m more worried about. Sure they can’t survive in hell for more than a day, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try to step in and do some cleaning up on their own. Especially when they see you- an abomination in their eyes-  in such a position of power.” She reached up and adjusted a lock of hair. “There. Perfect. Go see Vox and let’s get this done with. I’m starved and I’m sure you are too.” 

I hadn’t noticed until that point, but she was right. Breakfast had been a while ago. Ignoring the grumblings that appeared the moment I gave recognition to my hunger, I followed her back to the chair. Vox stood up when he saw me, grinning at the both of us. 

“Ah. Perfect. Vel, you have outdone yourself once again. Come on Princess, let’s get this over with.” He leaned over and kissed Velvette on the cheek. “We’ll be upstairs in about an hour. Have lunch ready for us?” 

She rolled her eyes and typed quickly on her phone. “Consider it done. I let Val know too.I’m sure he’ll join us.” 

I watched as she pranced off. A different kind of butterfly joined the rumblings in my belly as nerves sank deeper in. 

“Deep breath kid, you’ll be fine. It’s just me.” Vox said, reaching over and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Just pretend we’re having breakfast. Here, this is how it's going to go down. I’m going to take my seat and you’ll hear me introduce you. Music will play and that’s your cue to walk across the stage and take your seat. Feel free to smile, wave, whatever. People will like you just for who you are. So be sure to just be yourself.” He gave my hand a final squeeze before walking across the stage, smiling and waving to an invisible audience as music played around him. 

My heart pounded as I listened for him to call my name. Time seemed to slow and after what felt like forever, I heard his voice loud and clear across the stage. 

“You’ve heard the rumors and we at VoxTech are pleased to be the first one to confirm her existence. Please welcome the newest member of the V’s,  Princess Reader Morningstar! That’s right, you heard me folks. Princess Reader Morningstar live in our studio today!”

The music played and I walked across the stage. I definitely felt a bit silly as I smiled and waved at the empty studio, but did my best to let it roll off.  I took my seat on the other side of Vox and caught his eye.

“Good to see you sweetheart, welcome to the stage! So nice to get you out in the open after all these months together!” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Tell me, Princess, how exactly are you related to the big boss himself?”

I continued to smile and crossed my ankles gracefully, folding my hands on my lap. “Well you see, Lucifer is my uncle. My mom was his sister Lilith, who tragically passed at the hands of the angelic military soon not too long after I was born.”

Sad music played behind us and Vox looked grim, taking his elbows off the table as he leaned back in his chair.  “I see. Here in hell we remember that tragic day- a true loss for all demonkind. Tell me, Princess. If Lilith is your mother, who is your father?”

“Who was my father,” I corrected instantly,  “my father was an angel- the former leader of the exorcist division, to be exact.” 

Music swirled behind us. I felt my heart flutter and I wondered if I had said the right thing. Vox didn’t seem to notice, or I didn’t display my concerns. In the moment, I couldn't tell. 

“You heard that right folks. Half angel, half demon, twenty five years in heaven. Tell me honey, how did you end up down here?” He gave me the slightest nod, an encouraging smile. 

I bit back the nervousness as best I could.  “My dad, he knew what I was. Knew what he’d done. He sent me down here right before he was killed.” 

“And who killed him, Princess?” Vox asked, his voice dropping in volume. 

My heart pounded in my chest as I spoke my answer with more confidence than I felt.  “The new leader of the exorcist division. My dad wasn’t the best, but he brokered the deal with heaven that Angels couldn’t simply come down to hell and slaughter demons at will. The culling of demons are- were- controlled by Lucifer. Now that my father is gone, and a new leader has stepped up, I’m not sure how long that deal will hold up.”

Vox leaned forward. “Do you mean to say there could be extermination days? Like there were in the early days of hell?”

I gave the smallest nod. “Unless a similar deal is made between Lucifer and Heaven, I would think that is a very distinct possibility.” 

“Wow. And there you have it folks, out of the mouth of Princess Morningstar herself. Now over to our interview with King Lucifer, coming up after these messages.” 

I heard a snap and Vox beamed at me.  “Good job sweetie, that was excellent!”  He pulled a laptop out from under his desk and began punching the keys. “We’ll play you, and then Lucifer’s interview confirming what you said and volia! We have television.” 

I stared at him in dismay. “Vox, you can’t play that- those were all leading questions. I don’t know if everything I said is true. I was just guessing based on what I know.”

Vox shrugged as he continued to pound on his laptop. “Leading questions written by Lucifer himself. He did tell me you’d connect the dots on camera- I didn’t think it was possible at first, but he was right. Every word you said was directly on point for Lucifer’s script.” He leaned back away from his laptop and stretched. “Honestly I didn’t think we’d get it right in the first shot. You have a natural talent in front of the camera.”

Still uneasy, I took my phone out from the pocket stitched inside the dress, sending him a quick text. Usually so quick to answer, but today he didn’t get back right away.

“He’s probably busy. He does run all of Hell, after all. Come on, let’s go upstairs and get lunch.” Vox suggested standing up as he continued to stretch. “Ah, that was fantastic! I’m so pumped!”  

I ignored his positivity and checked my phone again. No response. Vox put his arm around me and I involuntarily winced at the pressure. He pulled away instantly, a frown replacing his overly cheerful grin. 

“I have medication for you. All you had to do was ask,” he chastised as we walked towards the elevator. 

The exhaustion, the soreness and the overall events of the day caused me to be more snappy than I intended. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not actively dying, so I’m fine.” I replied through gritted teeth. 

He pushed his hand to my forehead as we walked, and pulled away after a moment, brushing the makeup that rubbed off onto his pants. “You’re not warm. Which is good.”

“Right, because I’m fine. Better even than this morning.” I hit the elevator button. “Angels heal quick, and even Vel said my bruises have turned lighter even just in the past few hours.”

“You use the line ‘angels heal quick’ say that like it means something. Doesn’t matter how fast you heal, angels still feel pain.” He stepped inside the elevator and looked at me. “And don’t tell me they don’t, because we both know that’s a lie.”

Was it pity on his face? Annoyance? I couldn’t quite tell. I took the step in, standing next to him as the door closed  in front of us. “I never said angels didn’t feel pain,  I just said I was used to it.”

“Yeah and that’s a problem for all of us. I mean, I’m sure it’s a great asset in battle, and probably great if you’re in a bar fight. But when you’re home, in your safe zone you should be able to freely express when you’re not quite at your best. That’s what Lucifer was saying right?” He chuckled. “Believe me, Velvette is the worst when she’s sick, and she doesn’t hesitate to let us know it. At all. That ability to say how you feel truthfully is just a step into starting to control that emotion, logic balance Lucifer was going on about. It’s tough to maintain, but that’s why the three of us banded together initially. We’re each other's support system. We can tell each other when we’re angry, frustrated, sad, whatever, be it at work, at life, or at each other. Expressing those feelings helps to control them.” 

I could feel my frustration level rise along with the elevator.  I had spent the past twenty five years of my life hiding my feelings, concealing any pain. Did he expect that all of the sudden I would just be able to talk? Be able to say how I felt? Just the thought was enough to make me uncomfortable. 

The door opened and we both stepped out into the flat. I turned to him, the anger inside of me building from the turmoil of the day. 

“You want honesty? I’m sore and I feel like shit. I’m exhausted and would like nothing more than to march back into Valentinos studio and drag him back into our bedroom solely to be cuddled and loved until I absolutely pass out and sleep until I wake up in Val’s arms and then do all of that all over again until it no longer hurts.” I crossed my arms as I let every ounce of frustration show in my voice. They wanted emotion? Fine! They would get emotion! 

A smirk broke out on Vox’s face. “Finally. Let it out. Course it would have been less explosive if you had said something a few hours ago, but it’s a solid start.” 

I felt myself begin to shake from both anger and frustration. Behind me, I felt familiar arms wrap around my waist and pull me back gently. I let out an exhale. Valentino. At his touch, the anger and frustration melted away, replaced with shame. Fuck. Vox didn’t deserve to be yelled at. 

“Is that so, Princessa? I had no idea you had such desires.” Valentino whispered in my ear as my body pressed against his.  “I can make that happen this afternoon if you want it that badly, what do you say mi amor?” 

I felt my cheeks turn red and I looked away. “Val, hi.” I swallowed nervously. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. And I’m so pleased to listen to you verbalize your desires, Princessa. Now I can act on them.” He kissed down my neck softly. “See what happens when you communicate and use your words? Your wish is granted. I can work from home the rest of the day.” He gave me a gentle squeeze and released me. “ But first, mi amor, lunch. Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.” 

I hesitated and turned to Vox. “I’m sorry I shouldn't have….”

Vox held up a hand. “No, no apologies. The whole point of this was for me to literally push you until you broke down and actually acknowledged your anger. Don’t you feel better now? Just like Lucifer talked about.  And you get Val for the rest of the day- I call that a win.” He walked past me and gently tousled my hair. 

A sense of warmness flooded through me and I followed him into the living room. I flopped onto my usual spot on the couch and closed my eyes. Vox was right. I did hurt, I was tired, I was angry about all of it. Not  that yelling at him fixed any of those problems but part of me, somewhere, felt better just having said it, having put into words those feelings that swirled inside of me.

I thought back on what Lucifer had said, taking into account the events of the previous minutes. If it took figuring out how to balance logic and emotions to maintain control over the energy I could now manipulate, undoing years worth of military training was a small price to pay for the control that balance promised me. The more I thought about it, the more I desired that balance- the release and necessity counterparts to emotions and logic. It was the polar opposite of anything and everything I had been taught, but if it meant never losing control like I had earlier in the day, I was willing to give it my best shot. 

After all, Valentino, Vox and Velvette could do it. And if they could do it, I was sure I would be able to as well. 

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

(4) TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “The heart is the toughest part of the body. Tenderness is in the hands." — ‘The Country Between Us’, Carolyn Forché

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. swearing, mention of blood, death, alcohol, and sex

summary. after that stint with the spidersuit on halloween, quinn’s getting suspicious… (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n. sorry for the long wait everyone! also sorry that this is such a short chapter, i sprained my ankle the other day LOL

iiii.

The night after you save Ethan in the Spidersuit, you and your entire friend group are crowded in the apartment, ready to watch a shitty indie movie Mindy got from her uncle, who was as big a movie-geek as she was. 

First, however, Quinn had flicked on the news. She coursed through every channel, until she stopped on an opinionated broadcast by the name of the Daily Bugle, some obscure network that Ethan had worked at for, like, a year while he was still in highschool.

“He’s kind of, like, the devil,” Ethan told you one time at a diner, a place you landed in since you two couldn’t choose which place you wanted to order at. 

“J. Jonah Jameson seems like a very interesting creature. Devilish for sure, though,” You said, scrolling through the man’s miniscule Wikipedia page, alongside a handful of tweets using his biased shaming as reaction videos. 

Ethan held the plastic-lined menu in his large hands, turning it over to see the other side. “He was big on work ethic, meeting your quota, having to show him every article before it was published, stuff like that. It was really efficient, actually, but he was just… insufferable.�� 

“Worst boss ever?”

“Worst boss ever,” Ethan said, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink - a chocolate milkshake. 

So, it really was a surprise that Quinn was itching to watch his news, practically vibrating out of her skin. Even in general it was uncharacteristic of her, as she always seemed bored to death by the news Sam watched in the morning. 

“Quinn, I thought you hated the news.” Tara said, mild mannered and sitting down next to Mindy. 

“Especially this bald head-ass,” Mindy said, scooching over to make room. 

Quinn waved off everyones protests. “Someone I know is in this.” She then sat on the floor close to the television screen, “I just need to watch this one bit, ‘kay? Then we’ll get to whatever epistolary movie you want, Minds.” 

“It’s not epistolary, it’s a mockumentary about—“

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, Uncle Randy’s got you all educated.” Chad walked in with a pillow, pushing his sister over and plopping down right in between her and Tara. 

You were in the kitchen with Ethan, heating up bags of popcorn in the microwave, when Quinn cranked up the volume of the news way high. You could now hear it from there, and you both caught the segment's tagline. 

“Spiderman’s New Sidekick: Menace, or Martyr? Just last night, the attention-seeking “hero” was seen causing more mayhem in the city of New York. The troublemaker was accompanied by a similar web slinging partner - though still suspiciously hiding their identity. The following clip has been sent anonymously to us.”

The tv network then played a clip of you, fidgeting with the web slingers, clumsily making your way through New York and hitting several garbage cans over in the process. Your suit, however, was encapsulated in darkness, and all anyone could see was that white hood and those big curved eyes the mask had — tell-tale spiderman features. 

Your eyes darted to Ethan’s own, who was wide-eyed and pale. 

Ethan had long grown inured to the media’s attention on him, seeing as he had been doing this spiel for two years now - but you being in the news was a whole other story. 

The boy leaned over, presumably to whisper pretend sweet nothings in your ear (truthfully completely panicked thoughts about you in the suit) when Mindy interrupted your thoughts. 

“Oh my god, Quinn, don’t tell me you’re watching Jameson bash Spiderman because you don’t like him?” Mindy groaned, sinking into the couch. 

Quinn was quiet, which was really just an answer. 

Mindy leaned over from her spot on the couch. “Give me —“ she and Quinn wrestled for the remote, “the remote, I can’t listen to this entitled senior citizen bash Spiderman any longer—“ 

“He’s informing the public about a troublemakers misdeeds—“

“He should be informing the public he’s getting admitted into a senile care home—“ 

Then the two of them landed on the floor with a thud, the microwave went off, and Chad took over Mindy’s space on the couch, artfully “yawning” and placing an arm on Taras shoulder, who gave him a look but didn’t shrug him off. 

Well. So much for a peaceful night. You can see why Sam spent so much time at Danny’s place. 

The majority of you were sporting hangovers, and had wished to experience a relaxing evening, falling asleep to the droning of a Meeks-Martin Movie Recommendation (a name Chad protested everytime you said it, saying, “it’s associating me with Mindy’s movie-geek bullshit”) whose philosophical points generally flew over your head. 

(Hangovers excluding you and Ethan, who had spent the rest of the night patching eachother up, in which you were privy to Ethan’s nursing skills - or more accurately, the lack thereof. 

You had found yourselves once more in the apartment's cramped bathroom, except this time you were getting bandaged up for the scrapes on your elbows. 

You were squirming under Ethan’s touch, his hands in a heavy grip on your forearms. At some point, Ethan had enough of your movement, used his large hands to pull you close by the waist, and continued his idle work on your arms there. 

The manhandling had you so flustered you dared not move for the rest of treatment, turning your head away from the mirror so as not to reveal the terrible blush on your face. 

On the other hand, Ethan was completely oblivious of the nature of his actions, focused on bandaging your wound correctly. 

In the end, despite all the fuss, he forgot to use rubbing alcohol, and didn't know how to tie the bandage, leaving an articulate bow to finish the wraps off instead. Still, you appreciated the effort. 

He had done it in his awkward, stilted way, which was incredibly endearing in its own right.)

Silence flooded the room, until you pulled the popcorn out of the microwave, and you and Ethan poured the bags into their respective bowls for each person. 

Mindy and Quinn then untangled themselves from each other, getting up and wiping the dust of their clothes like nothing had ever happened.

“So,” You said, trying to play it cool, “what’s the deal with Spidey, my boyfriend's boyfriend?” 

Ethan followed from the kitchen, pushing you playfully (and hoping this fake nonchalance was convincing enough). “Turn that nonsense off, Q. Don’t you remember Jameson’s outburst when I quit?”

The man had had a tantrum when Ethan quit the poor summer job he was working in their offices. 

Ethan got the job in the first place because his dad was part of the NYPD, and Jameson thought Ethan might be able to spill some incredibly confidential “juicy” details about ongoing cases. When Ethan failed to deliver, Jameson forgot about him, and he spent two months doing miniscule tasks, like sorting paperwork or going for coffee runs. 

Suffice to say, it wasn’t the office experience Ethan was hoping for, so he promptly quit. There was also the awkward matter of Jameson’s increasing hatred of Spiderman, wherein Ethan was forced to regularly voice his “irritation” toward the hero. 

(Which was kind of hard to put his heart into when, well, he was the hero.)

And although it was a proper quitting, too, with a two weeks notice and everything, Jameson didn’t care, and berated seventeen-year old Ethan in front of the twenty something workers he had under his feet. But Ethan hadn’t cared too much either, and went to the theater to watch a movie right after. 

You and Ethan waited for Quinn’s familiar jabs at Ethan’s old job (in which Quinn had laughed for a solid ten minutes when he came home from quitting, in utter shock that her little brothers first job ended with a 60-year-olds toddler tantrum), his “love” of Spiderman, or even just Ethan in general - but nothing came. She merely shifted her gaze from you to him, before shrugging, and handing the remote back to Mindy. 

So movie-night was back on, but a certain feeling was creeping up both your spines, twin looks being traded between you and Ethan. 

What exactly had prompted Quinn to watch a broadcast about Spiderman? No matter how much she ranted about the hero, she equally hated Jameson and the news. 

You wracked your brain for a single solution throughout the entire movie, and it had only clicked when Mindy began her routine film-analysis, bringing out the small, rollable white board you all had tried to hide from her, just so you wouldn’t need to listen to any more movie essays. 

You got up, and pulled Ethan along with you, Mindy shooting you two a disgusted look, and Chad throwing you a thumbs up. 

(You hadn’t noticed, but Quinn’s eyes trailed after you with a glint of suspicion.)

“She knows,” you said, hushed and ducking in the dimly lit apartment hallway near your bedroom. 

“What?” Ehan said, brows furrowed. 

“She knows. Quinn.”

“Quinn knows what?”

“Oh my god,” you refrained from hitting him, “Quinn knows you’re Spiderman.” 

“What?”

“Quinn knows y—“

“No, I mean, what as in what the fuck?! Are you sure she knows?” 

“I just - she was looking at us weirdly during the Spiderman broadcast, and through the entire movie, too—“

“That doesn’t mean she knows, right? She could be looking at us because we’re “dating”, or because — ‘cause I’m her stupid Spiderman geek brother, or—“

“Okay, but she could also be looking because she knows you’re Spiderman, knows I’m the weird sidekick on the news—“ 

“[Name]! Just,” Ethan pressed two fingers between his eyes, “can we let this go? Just for tonight?” 

You sighed, leaning your head against the wall. “Fine! Let’s just… pretend none of this ever happened. That she, like, probably doesn’t know.”

“[Name].”

“Okay! Okay, you win. But just for tonight, because I swear, if I wake up tomorrow and my mom’s blasting my phone because Quinn told someone about it—“

“She doesn’t know!” Ethan repeated, before sticking his fingers in his ears and walking away like a little kid. 

You shook your head at his immaturity, but stuck your tongue out at him when he wasn’t looking, anyway.

After that isolated incident of suspicion, you and Ethan kept a particularly close watch on his sister's actions, reactions, and movements.

How she reacted when Ethan raved about how much he “adored” Spiderman, the faces she made when Sam passed The Daily Bugle channel on TV, how guarded her body language was when you walked around Central Park and someone called out from afar that Spiderman had just swung by. 

And she was so fucking suspicious. 

Quinn’s eyes would thin, looking at Ethan and you when he talked about Spiderman, she’d watch intently when Sam passed Jamesons channel, if even for a second, and she’d look to the skies every time somebody shouted “Spiderman” in the park or the streets. 

Ethan countered your every thought, however, constantly reminding you of her previously mentioned hatred for the hero, using that as an excuse for her every move. 

You two find yourselves arguing over the matter again, this time while walking across campus to your next classes, having to hold hands as you did so just so people wouldn’t think your arguing was actually you two in the process of breaking up. 

“E, she knows. I mean, for gods sakes, what person who doesn’t know sends their brother nasty looks when someone talks about Spiderman?” 

“Well, maybe, I’m her little brother who she’s made fun of every moment for the last nineteen years?”

“Oh my god, Ethan, we can’t keep pretending she doesn’t know you’re Spiderman!” you whisper shouted in his ear, pretending to pick something out of his hair. 

“Well, I was just suspicious, but you two have gone ahead and confirmed it for me.” Quinn suddenly appeared beside you, walking in tandem with your paces. 

Then, you and Ethan both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, shock still, jaws dropped, almost getting hit by a bike in the process. 

“What?” She said, tilting her head to the side. 

“What?” Ethan said back. 

“What -“ You began, but the irony sunk in rather quickly. “No, fuck— Quinn, how the f— how did you find out?” you whispered low, pulling her by the sweater sleeve as you began walking again. 

Quinn looked back to make sure nobody was listening secretly, like she had done just moments prior. “Again, I was just suspicious. Knowing was all you two. But… you guys are kind of, like, really obvious. Like, on movie night, you were fighting in the kitchen about the popcorn, and when I turned on the news you went quiet. When me and Mindy argue about the better heroes, you look at eachother like you’re about to burst out laughing every time I say I hate Spiderman. And your Halloween costume,” she pointed at you, “had a hood that looked a lot like the one on TV.”

You scratched your cheek sheepishly, considering the facts against you. “Okay, we are… more obvious than I thought.” 

“We?” Ethan said, incredulous. “I’ve hid this for years.” 

Quinn snorted, stifling a laugh. “Ethan, you’re fucking terrible,” she punched her brother, “at lying. I just never brought it up. Honestly, what the hell is “I’m going out for patrol — no, I meant I’m going on a date with [Name]” supposed to mean to me?” She mocked Ethan’s nervous stuttering. 

Ethan went red. “I— well, — I mean, dad doesn’t even know, and he’s like a bloodhound.”

Quinn shrugged. “Sure, he doesn’t say anything, but he also never reports any unnatural cobwebs he finds on the criminals either.”

“I’ll be damned,” Ethan said, starstruck. You patted his shoulder pitifully. 

“Does anyone else…?” You gestured lightly to the general population on campus.

Quinn shook her head. “Not that I know of. And I won't tell anyone, if that’s what you mean.” 

The three of you stopped to sit at a water fountain, the conversation becoming much more serious by the look of Quinn’s face. 

She had bit her lower lip, suddenly looking far off, a mix of melancholy and fury shining in her brown eyes. “As long as you don’t get yourself killed, Ethan, I won’t tell anyone.” 

Ethan gulped, probably remembering all the times he did exactly that. “I promise, Quinn, I—“

“Because I know you will, Ethan. And I will fucking dig our brother out of the earth if you dare to—“

All of a sudden, this didn’t feel like a confrontation between friends — it felt like a heartfelt conversation between family, and you felt very out of place. 

Just seeing how furious Quinn looked, but how her lip trembled, how fists clenched with the memories of their brother, how Ethan leaned away, trying to escape any confrontation in relation to their brother, how his expression tensed - it made you feel icky, like you were interrupting that which was none of your business.  

As you were about to leave, step away from the incredibly private situation and duck into your school building, Quinn grabbed you by the hand. “[Name], promise me, please, keep my brother safe. You’re in this way deeper than I am, so…”

She waited for confirmation. When you didn’t respond, Quinn continued. “You love him, I can tell, so please, just… keep him alive, for me, okay?.” 

Your mouth opened and closed. She still thought you two were— 

You considered telling her the truth, but - but her gaze was so desperate, tone so heartfelt, the only thing you could do was nod.

From there, you could feel the guilt eat at you, simultaneous to the burning you felt in your heart. You wanted to protect Ethan, you wanted to keep him safe - you did not want to lose him, for that would be like losing a limb. 

And then Quinn’s words echoed in your ears once more: you love him, I can tell—

You breathe, in and out, conscious coming back to the Earth, and you slip away from the pair of siblings, Quinn’s words ringing in your ears, Ethan’s gaze lingering on you as you stepped into Blackmore.

taglist: @iloveneilperry @backtotheshitshow @hazehepburn @powowowy @ifilwtmfc @oscarisdaddy69 @al1v3cvp1d2@bloodyeverything @diamondci1ty @l5bryinth @gojosbucket @volturi-girl-imagines @sflame15-blog @thatoneembarrasingmoment @bajadotcom @cerealzzz @elynk @theapulidooo @solaceinwritings @1horrormoviewhore1 @anthemabby @mia-luvs @dont-get-upset @knxv1lie @verveta345 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @xyzstar @ihearttokissboys

strikethrough = wouldn’t allow me to tag, sorry!

[sstar-nerd]

Ok, I have risen from the dead because these two are hilarious to me in their entire concept.

So everyone is talking about the Vox and Alastor rivalry especially with the season finale with Vox’s commentary and the torn photo. Like, those two fucking HATE each other so comically. Everyone says it’s more on Vox’s side but I disagree cause on the very first episode Alastor HATES having to deal with video and being recorded. Maybe we didn’t pick up on it before but he’s very subtly INSULTING Vox that whole time.

But, could anyone discuss how funny it would be if they were still friends THIS ENTIRE TIME. Has anyone had those two friends who throw insults and fight with each other 24/7 but they’re actually super close? Like BFF levels of close? Just me?

Think about it: Alastor’s radio broadcasting things were still there after 7 years. You can’t tell me Vox wouldn’t have brought those down at some point even if someone else used them? Or just built some as his own version to display some sort of power grab? Like c’mon even if they were there for an important reason Vox would have found a way to take them over.

It would just be so funny for both sides to hear only insults about the other- constant slander and threats almost daily. Vox will not shut up about how much of a has-been Alistor is and about how he was gone for 7 years just RAGING. And the other half Alastor refuses to allow TVs into the hotel, constantly insults videos or any V products, and keeps making sly insults about Vox ANYTIME a video or TV is even referenced near him.

So it comes a time for the two groups to team up for one reason or another and they’re both dreading it. Val doesn’t want to deal with a grouchy and pissed Vox the entire partnership and Velvette knows she won’t get a moments peace. Charlie is coming up with plans on how to get the two to get along while Vaggie is simultaneously strategizing how to keep them away from each other. Everyone else in the hotel is all tensed and worried.

Than comes the meeting. They’re staring each other down for a good couple moments as the others around them make awkward small talk and then:

Vox: NO CALL!!!

Al: I don’t use-

Vox: NO LETTER!!!

Al: I WAS BUSY!

Vox: Doing what? Being old?

Al: Regaining my sanity after our last brunch.

Vox: Oh I make ONE bland dish and you-

And then the two are arguing for HOURS. There’s not a soul in that room who has the bravado to get in between them or butt in. They’re all either terrified or seriously confused. Eventually the argument boils down to something akin to an actual conversation like two friends catching up.

Someone, I think Charlie, asks them about their rivalry and if they can work together now. Vox and Al share a confused look before they realize: they had never told anyone the status of their relationship. Vox is doubled over laughing while Alastor has his face in his hands trying not to do the same thing. Everyone is concerned.

When they’re done they have to tell the two groups how they knew each other for forever since their respective falls and had even heard about each other when they were alive. They became extremely close friends shortly after meeting and only became ‘rivals’ when they thought they were both becoming to arrogant and unchallenged.

Their friends are all horrified and confused.

Vox and Al think it’s hilarious.

[nalyra-dreaming]

@raven--stag replied to your post “Me: sees someone refer to how badly Lestat treated...”:

There are TRAIN SCHEDULES?? Can you elaborate please (if you have time and don't mind doing it ofc) because honestly, I've never considered the possibility that he wasn't the one who brought her back, it always just kind of made sense to me

​Alright. I first did the research for that for chapter 42 of "Laden as the sea", which of course dealt with that scene. (I'm adapting my explanations from there)

Now, in short:

Lestat cannot have brought Claudia back as told.

(which does not mean that a similar scene did not happen... just not as told.)

Because:

In-universe, these characters are rooted to it. As is what we're told, and what is used to set the scenes.

The train Claudia wanted to take was likely the Crescent, which ran daily from 1941 on. (This“one year discrepancy” in the tale is a constant thing btw here a post of the now deactivated a-savagegarden on this.) The Crescent leaves NOLA at 9am these days, BUT then…. It left at 11pm :)

(source)

Now…. Louis tells us of Lestat doing the “Birmingham, Alabama” spiel, and the train Claudia being on the “New York Limited”. The Crescent does NOT stop in Birmingham, however the “Piedmont Limited” does. 5,5h into the journey (if I read these correctly).

The cities quoted (Birmingham. Atlanta. Greensboro. Washington, D.C.) fit the timetable there, too. However… the Piedmont left at 5pm. And sunset was around 7:30pm.

Which is why I think Louis maybe thought Claudia was on the Limited, when in reality she had to go and take the Crescent simply for time-reasons. (And since he had no intention to go with her this detail was never important to him.)

Now. The radio broadcast we hear when Louis comes back was given September 3rd, 1939, after 5:30 am.

(A word to the next scene in the show here: I noticed that the radio broadcast Louis listens to… is the same as was on when he came back from “teasing the sun”, as mentioned above, after Claudia was brought back by Lestat, namely this part of it: “every word that comes through the air, every ship that sails the sea, every battle that is fought does affect the American future.” Given that this is clearly a different evening though - it’s another piece of the puzzle which does … not fit, but is likely a twisted memory, and another one of those “details” which actually are not really important… but still proof of this not being (able to be) the (whole) truth. (Another thing that indicates the discrepancy imho is the fact that there’s two radios in their parlor… one next to Louis, one next to Lestat.))

But back to that evening, and Louis' return.

Let’s make that 6am, since he said he cut it close.

IF Claudia actually told Louis afterwards that Lestat caught her and brought her back from Alabama, then on the Crescent it might have been Montgomery. Which the Crescent reached at 7:20am… after sunrise. So that makes that rather unlikely.

The Crescent leaving at 11pm and Louis coming home at 6am gives whatever happened in-between a 7h time frame. If the trains need 5,5h to Birmingham… not enough time.

Totally apart from the timetables though there is also logistics to consider.

When Louis comes home Claudia sits there, with her luggage (and her tuba). I know I wrote in the other fic that Lestat flew back with her, but I actually doubt it.

Claudia had had to go back from the park to get her luggage and bring it to the train (station). IF she actually made it onto the train with all of that and nobody noticing, then I think Lestat caught her while still at the station.

Because the return train schedule (of the Crescent and Express) is in the afternoon and the Piedmont Limited would have arrived at NOLA only after sunrise. (Of course there would be other trains they could take, but those would be even slower…?!)

So I think Claudia never left NOLA. Which does NOT mean that the train scene in and by itself did not happen, as said before (even the controller), but… I think Louis mixed what Claudia told him afterwards (or what she let him see in her mind, which might not have been all that was to it, given her later diary entries) with what he thought/feared had happened. With the trains he expected her to be on, and which went by certain cities. There is no diary to underline the scene, Louis tells Daniel of this event after it is noted in the show that the previous interview had stopped before this point, so Daniel has no reference anymore. It is Louis’ interpretation of what Claudia told/showed him, recounted for a certain... effect.

So I do think a scene similar to what we saw happened. But exactly like that? Not likely, imho, not the least because of the many, many parallels to events from Lestat’s past here (and which neither Claudia nor Louis would know at this point).

And of course Claudia would be plotting her own game by then, which, in later book canon at least, included manipulating Louis.

And, last but not least, supposedly Claudia knew Antoinette was there with Louis at the park when she left for the train, as is revealed in episode 7. I always find that hugely interesting in retrospect, considering her comment to him and the mentioned later book twist.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

THIRTY-FIVE | S04 E03 — A Thousand Times Over

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

(A/N — Hello! Did you miss me? lol)

•••

You can’t believe it. Is this really happening? Are you really hosting dinner at home? You, who messed up something as simple as miyeokguk, are hosting dinner at home?

You don’t know where you got the guts from, but it’s definitely the result of another successful production, and Jungkook telling your close friends that dinner will be at yours over the weekend. By the time everyone has stopped cheering and exchanging high-fives, you have already agreed, smiling at them from ear to ear.

Jungkook helped you with the groceries the night before, and showed up at your doorstep bright and early this morning to get all the preparations done.

“Bun, it’s 7 am. Why are we doing this?” You whined while peeling a skinny piece of carrot, being careful not to peel your skin off in the process. You were sitting on a barstool, hunched over the kitchen island, only 80% awake. While your boyfriend moves around the kitchen confidently, mixing random spices and sauces for the marinade, and trimming the meat.

“We need to prepare everything now, so all the cooking will be easier later~” he answered in a singsong manner, turning around and busting out a move while humming to a song you don’t know. You can’t help but chuckle at what’s in front of you— your boyfriend in gray sweats and an oversized shirt, sleeves long enough that he was able to pull it down his hand and use it to handle a hot lid off the pot. He looks so soft and cozy, you almost want to leap off the stool and give him some cuddles.

“What are we making anyway?” You asked with curiosity, eyeing the vegetables and a piece of apple lined up in front of your “chopping line.”

“Suyuk and soondae gukbap. I need to start boiling the broth for the gukbap now, so it will be yummy tonight.” He nibbled on his bottom lip, doe eyes giving all the ingredients on the counter a once-over. “The rest— like the dakgalbi and samgyeopsal will be cooked over dinner, and everyone can participate.”

“Oooh. Is that something that a real chef would do?”

“I don’t know, I’m not one,” he grinned at you, nose all scrunching up as the grin turned into a giggle.

Two hours later, Jungkook has already marinated the chicken, dry-brined the slab of pork belly in the fridge, and got the bone broth simmering on the stove top. You, on the other hand, have organized all the chopped vegetables in ziploc bags, and tidied up the kitchen, making sure that everything is clean and ready to use for all the cooking later.

•••

The dinner party went well. Jungkook’s suyuk was a hit, to the point that he had to make another batch while everyone’s already crowding around the kitchen.

“Yah, Jungkook, you are insane!” Hoseok muttered between chewing. “This is so good, yah…” he gushed, picking his chopsticks back up and hugging another piece of pork with gat kimchi before stuffing his face with it.

“How did you make it?” Namjoon, also in awe of the taste, asked in curiosity. Deep down knowing that he won’t ever be able to even set foot in the kitchen to recreate it.

“I just followed the recipe!”

“Anyone up for some drinks?” Sohyun’s question worked everyone’s appetite even further up, and the food was demolished in no time.

“We should do this more often, it’s nice,” you told no one in particular. Yoongi agreed, topping up your glass. “Oh, thank you.”

“You did well, babe,” Jungkook slinked his arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your temple.

“I didn’t even cook!” You replied, flustered.

“Aye, you chopped all the vegetables. You did all the hard work,” Mingyu quipped. “Cooking is just putting it all together.

“You cleaned up too, YN. That’s crucial,” Hoseok added.

“Take the compliment, YN,” Namjoon snickered. “Remember when we went camping way back and I nicked my finger trying to peel a tiny potato? I am useless!”

Yoongi burst out laughing at the memory, “You had one job, dude. ONE JOB.”

The evening continued with more banter, stories, and laughter until Yoongi and Mingyu started a drinking game incorporated with a balance game. Two people will be asked to pick between two choices. If they match, they win. If they don’t, they take a shot. Hoseok and Sohyun have been winning back to back, so Yoongi decided to switch up the questions, zeroing in on you.

“I got a good one for you, YN…” Yoongi smirked.

“Okay…” You answered cautiously.

With a devilish grin and sharp eyes fleeting between you and Jungkook, Yoongi asked, “Would you rather kiss Jungkook for ten thousand won, or kiss a stranger for ten million won?”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, “Yah, hyuuung…” Noticing your pause, he turned his head from Yoongi to you so fast, he could have had a whiplash, “Yah… is there something to think about?”

“Did the stranger brush his teeth?” You asked.

Jungkook gasped. “Why does it matter?” He asked you incredulously.

“Hmm… Let’s say, yes. He’s clean. Hygienic,” Yoongi nodded.

“Clean CLEAN? Like he goes to a dental hygienist clean?” You continued coaxing Yoongi for answers, completely ignoring Jungkook’s dagger eyes on the side of your face.

“Yeah, he regularly goes to the dentist and flosses three times a day,” Mingyu answered, almost toppling over his seat from laughing so hard at his bestfriend’s reaction.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook picked up a piece of grape and threw it at Mingyu.

“Umm–”

You were cut off by Jungkook suddenly standing up from his seat to fish a crisp green banknote from his wallet and slamming it down on the table in front of you. “Baby, here’s ten thousand won, let’s go. Kiss me.” His facial expression, a mixture of amusement and drudgery.

The room erupted in laughter, with Hoseok literally falling on the floor and smacking Namjoon’s legs over and over trying to contain himself. “Aigoo, Jungkook-ah…”

“Can you give me ten million won?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“Can you give me one thousand kisses?” He challenged back.

“Yah, yah, yah…” Namjoon waved his hands at everyone. “Let’s skip this question, we don’t want to be the cause of your breakup!” He suggested playfully, still half-wheezing from laughing.

The game continued on, putting a different person on the spot, until everyone sobered up and have gotten ready to leave. Jungkook decided to stay the night, given it’s already almost midnight, and tomorrow is Sunday.

You were standing in the doorway of your house, waving Mingyu off when Jungkook nudged you on the side, “Check your phone.”

“Huh?” You leaned onto the doorframe, fishing your phone out of your pocket. Your eyes widen in surprise when you saw the notification, before staring back at a smugly smiling Jungkook. “What the fuck is this, Jeon?! Where did you get this? You’re crazy!”

“Oh, I’m Jeon again?” He snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “Here and there. Work. Stocks.” His voice dangerously low and goosebump-inducing.

You instantly melted at your boyfriend’s touch, “Babe… You’re overre—“ Jungkook shut you up by capturing your bottom lip with his soft ones.

“One,” he whispered.

“Jungkook,” His name came out of your mouth in a breathy voice as your fingers curled on the collar of his jacket.

He pressed two more kisses on your lips, one after the other. “Three.”

“What…?”

Jungkook swiftly shifted your body away from the door, kicking it shut in the process, before lifting you over his shoulder and making you squeal.

“Let’s get you to bed. I’m cashing in the remaining nine hundred ninety-seven.”

•••

BONUS — The notification:

[silverstar-1117]

addicted to you - chapter 2

˙⋆✮Pairing; Lee Know x Afab!Reader

˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮Summary; Minho hadn’t seen his childhood friend in years but you had truly never left his mind. Even though he was the reason behind your absence all he wanted was you to come back.

˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮Warnings; implied afab reader, (they/them pronouns used), slight angst, my own inability to update consistently (sorry lol), this is my first kpop fanfic pls be nice to me im a crybaby

Chapter II

MINHO- STRAY KIDS DORM

All he heard was noise when he walked in the door, he sighed as he closed the door behind him. Slipping off his shoes he padded into the living room to figure out what was causing his group mates to be so loud this late at night.

“Look, there they are!!” Felix shouted pointing towards the screen of the tv, “Birdie’s on stage!”

It felt like a punch to the stomach hearing their name after what he had said the last time he saw them. God, it was all he could think about. How he basically told them they never mattered to him when he knew that was far from the truth. All he wanted was to take back what he said and just act as happy as he should’ve been after seeing them for the first time in years.

“I didn’t know they were performing with Enhypen now! I knew they left Aespa’s staff after their last comeback. Do you think we could get Birdie to dance with us?” Hyunjin was the next to speak about the other dancer. He hated what he was hearing. Why did he do this to himself? He knew there was no one else to blame but himself.

“We follow each other I don’t think it would hurt to ask them to just come practice with us sometime.” Felix replied.

“Ooh, I’m gonna DM them right now. Maybe they’ll reply when they’re off stage” Hyunjin immediatley pulled out his phone before the other boy could even finish his sentence.

Felix laughed before chuckling out, “I need to tell Chan hyung that they’re dancing with Jake now!”

x

Over the next few days it seemed as if around every corner all he heard was Hyunjin talking about Birdie. About how they were dancing on a new show or about how they posted a new dance cover on instagram, or even that they agreed to dance together.

His mistake was just following him around. He had no escape. He makes himself even more miserable by scrolling through their posts. He saw them at practice, at the park with other friends, and photos of just them going throughout the day. God, he missed them. He couldn’t even fault Hyunjin, he knew how amazing Birdie was. They lit up the whole room when they were present and they could befriend anyone in a second. The proof of that was apparent. TXT, AESPA, and ENHYPEN were all scattered around their life. At every broadcast it was like it was never ending. Everyone wanting their own moment with them, his own members included.

They wanted nothing to do with him and they made that clear enough that anyone could see. They were professional and polite but he knew them. There was nothing behind those eyes like there used to be, no warmth or care for him. To protect themself he at least knew that much. Because of him, too.

“Birdie is going to meet me at the studio in an hour! So i have enough time to grab us snacks and drinks” Hyunjins voice came from the hallway. Felix responded, “Tell them I said hi and that it’s my turn next time!”

Only twenty minutes later there was already a new instagram story waiting for him when he opened his phone. Hyunjin and Birdie playing around and dancing. He already regretted opening his phone. They were dancing, obviously . If it just ended there maybe he wouldn’t feel like he wanted to punch something. Or himself.

Hyunjin had his hands around Birdie’s waist as he stepped towards them. Birdie danced away and back into his arms. They still had the same fluid and controlled movements that he remembered. He remembered when he was the one holding them as they danced around the studio late at night. He missed those nights. He never thought that he would have a last one. He had foolishly thought that they would have a million more nights together.

HYUNJIN - DANCE STUDIO

Birdie’s laugh echoed around the studio, bouncing off the walls and mirrors. “Stop!! I think they’re cool. You’re just a fashion disaster!” Their smile was wide and it lit up their whole face. Hyunjin watched them as they stood up from the floor and skipped towards him, “It’s not my fault i have better taste than you”

He scoffed, “Yeah right, you know i have better taste! I see what you’re wearing” It made an exaggerated frown appear on the other dancers face. “Well, that means we just need to go shopping together! Soon!”

Hyunjin pulled their hands towards him, starting to sway the both of them back and forth. “How about we order chicken and we can talk about where we wanna go?”

After the food had been ordered and delivered, with the help of one of the jyp staff members, they both laid out on the floor while they ate and chatted for the next hour and a half about anything and everything. With bellies full of chicken and soda, Hyunjin rested his head on his arm while laid out on his side, listening diligently to the dancer speak. “I mean, I don’t know I guess the name just has a negative meaning to me now. Don’t get me wrong the name has served me well for years.” They shrugged, “it just doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

He looked at them before moving over to pull their head onto his lap, “Why don’t you like it anymore? You seemed to at one point, so what’s changed?” Birdie sighed as Hyunjin started to run his fingers over their hair line.

“I got it from someone. They were apart of my life since I was small. They left though, no goodbye or anything. Just looked right at me knowing they were leaving and didn’t say anything. Like i didn’t deserve to know.”

Birdie looked up at Hyunjin trying to smile but only managing a slight frown. “Lee Know hyung? Right?” He guessed, even though he was pretty sure of the answer.

“Yeah. Minho and I grew up together. I thought we were pretty close, you know?” They laughed. “Guess it was just me”

He folded his body over hers as best as he could, tickling his fingers down the bare skin of her stomach the peeked out from their shirt. “Guess we’ll just have to find you a new name then, huh cutie?” Birdie giggled up at him before swatting his hands off of her. “You’re so silly, huh Hyunnie?”

hii again!! i’ve finally finished this chapter. i had 0 inspo and i switched stores at my job so i’ve been stressed :( i hope you enjoy the new chapter!

[lovezbrownies]

I just sent a completely different ask, so I hope I'm not spamming you, but I just had another thought about your works, I could totally see Queen Nia being forced to have a sham marriage with another kingdom's ruler for the sake of alliance, if threatened with a devestating war otherwise for example, and I could also see that ruler forcing her to carry a heir, and that being the reason why she despises her own child, being forced to carry a child for a relationship she never wanted, all the while having a secret (or possibly open secret) love affair with her "faithful lifetime servant". This would also totally open the door for a polyamorous relationship with the darling, but that's a whole nother' can of worms. None of this is a request by the way, just thoughts I had about your work that I figured you may enjoy, feel free to tell me to keep it to myself.

Hello! :3 This is actually very very fire wait let me cook. (so sorry this took so long dunno whats up with me lately) This got so long I love it :3 also! i love love getting unique asks like these! Super appreciate any and every ask I receive :3 don't be shy <3

Masterlist.

Queen Nia x GN!Reader.

Queen Nia is known as a delinquent by the Board of Chiefs and staff who are close to her. She likes to bend the rules, she doesn't listen to anyone's orders, and she hates being told otherwise. And what can anyone say? Nia's the queen, and she's been the queen since age 16, she's old enough to realize that what she says, goes. Nia is as stubborn as a mule, and she lets anyone who defies her know that fact well.

But what happens when the stubborn mule is forced to be faced with the truth? When the threat of war looms over her head and the only way she can ease it is by marrying some heir? Well she'd go nuts! Nia is reckless sure, but first of all, she's a queen, and she wants to be known as the best Queen of Xelera ever. Maybe that's why she hires assistants to do work for her and then she would take all the credit. So, Nia steps up, and agrees to the proposal. Marry the king of a faraway land's kid, the heir of their kingdom, let's name it Misal for convenience's sake, all in the hopes of avoiding war. She is smart enough to make it clear and concise. Nia doesn't love them, she never will, and she will openly cheat on this heir with her real spouse, that is you. Nia doesn't bother to get to know her new royal spouse, takes you up as the Queen's most treasured servant, and goes on with her average life. She barely tolerates it when she has to speak with her so-called ''spouse" about whatever responsibilities they expect her to accomplish. Like just send the document over to her assistant! Is it so hard to let Nia live at peace as she hand feeds you exotic fruits.

Over the years of a resentful, heated marriage the two royals are forced to have at least two kids to continue the Royal Bloodwen bloodline. The other kid is for the heir's ridiculous, tainted, nasty bloodline. Nia's hatred for children almost triples when its the kids from her war-preventing marriage. Nia would shower you in gold while her kids can barely speak to her.

Nia is openly and clearly unfaithful, something she's established from the start. Even inviting you to her wedding and spending most of her time with you during said wedding. If Nia's royal spouse dares to anger her in some way she'd banish them off to whatever summer house her father had before his passing. If the king, her spouse's father, dares to impose war on her due to her treatment of his child she will threaten him back saying she'd gladly end his pathetic heir's life and broadcast it for all to see and send out her soldiers pillage his kingdom. Nia becomes smart about this situation. She'd plant spies in Misal. She would tell the Chief of Military to increase training, to spread military propaganda, to spend more money on equipment. All of this is to make sure that Xelera becomes the strongest Military entity in the world. No one can threaten her any longer, she'd keep the little heir under lock and key. Only to use this unintelligent heir as bargaining bait against Misal's king. "Give us more of this or your heir dies." And if Misal tries to call their bluff, a day later a video of said heir, knocked out, a knife barely grazing against their neck, if they woke up it would mean immediate impalement and immediate death.

Safe to say, Nia would be cute to her amazing darling, while an absolute cunt to everyone else around her.

[gallaghersgal]

Sports au with football player Marcus + mutual pining trope !!! PLEASE AND THANK YOU 🫶🏼🫶🏼

this was inspired by mondo duplantis running to his gf after breaking the pole vault world record sorry not sorry! no warnings; plenty of fluff, college au!

sports au + mutual pining from these aus and these fanfic tropes. part of my 1,500 follower celebration.

as a culinary major with no particular interest in sports of any kind, you'd never expected to find yourself in the endzone front row at your college's final regular season game. that was, until you met marcus brooks. he was a sweet guy from your pastry techniques course, and surprisingly enough, a star running back for the football team. sure it was apparent in his stature, with wide shoulders and strong arms, but his gentle nature didn't exactly scream football player.

the two of you had been playing this little game since last spring. you'd test things out for your culinary practicals together, go to wine tastings, and try out new local restaurants. he supported you when you had a part in the spring play, so of course you found the time to come to a game or two. so that's how you found yourself here, screaming at the top of your lungs as the clock ticked towards zero, and marcus charged down the field with the ball.

the second marcus crossed the line his eyes searched for your own, finding them and locking you into his gaze. he points at you, a wide grin on his face as he spikes the ball. teammates surround him, clapping his back and seemingly pushing him in your direction.

you lean down over the low wall while butterflies fill your stomach, marcus pulling off his helmet and jogging straight to you. he stands on his toes, reaching up to put a hand on your face. "i'm gonna kiss you!" he shouts over the roar of the crowd. even if you wanted to protest, he couldn't have heard it anyway. his lips crash into yours, his teammates whooping and hollering behind him. you're pretty sure the moment is broadcast on the video board as well, but you don't mind.

the kiss is over as quickly as it started and from there it's an hour before you see marcus again. he walks out of the field house as you're making your way through confused, excited, frantic messages from friend and family who saw you get kissed on live television. "that was one hell of a hard launch," you say, after kissing him once, then twice more.

marcus laughs, and you find yourself admiring his smile. "yeah, well, it was sorta like... a bet with the guys?" he sees your concerned look and quickly continues, "not like that! what i mean is, when i told them you'd be in the stands everyone was all 'man you gotta make your move' 'cause they were tired of hearing me talk about you."

you giggle, resting a hand on his chest while his own drift to your hips, lips brushing your temple sweetly. "would you believe me if i said my sister told me the same thing?"

marcus holds you at arms length with an incredulous smile on his face. "you mean i coulda done that this whole time? man, i'm an idiot."

you're close enough to detect the slight flush on his cheeks, and you can't help but lean up to kiss it. "'s okay, we can make up for lost time."

[himejoshiangels]

batgirl 2000 reread pt 2!!!

Back 2 batgirl..Cass has to have some of the worst daddy issues in the whole family and that's saying so much like between Bruce and Cain she deserves billions of dollars in compensation for all the all the way fucked up and over shit they put her through that she doesn't even have the capacity to work through yet

also this little interaction made me smile, average bat conversation

obsessed w how they integrate cass into the Bruce wayne: murderer storyline. We're operating fully from cass's perspective here and the whole thing is formatted like any other case she's taken on. we get exposition as cass investigates but there's a feeling of uneasiness as she paces the manor. she fully doesn't know who this guy is but we do. we do.

truly one of the most iconic ways anyones ever figured out his identity. she knows him so deeply that she's able to recognize the pure unbridled determination and fury in his eyes just from a picture

Cassandra cain truly stays unmatched, the "I'll kill you" "not tonight" panel hits just as hard as when I first read it. I need a physical copy of this shit NEOWWW. also cass's ability to recognize that Shiva is just as suicidal as she is, that in fighting each other their both fulfilling the others death wish..like we know she isn't going to kill her from the start but it makes the decision all the more powerful

EEEK she's so cutest patootest..she's a detective

cass if projecting onto every case she dealt with was a job..

srsly tho the whole alpha arc thing was sooo good especially when it came to cass's immovable belief that even people with the most diabolical histories are capable of change, are worth saving

ermmm..the lawyers are advising me not to discuss the stephcass drama issue at this current time..thank you

idk how I missed the political commentary the first time but issue 43 got it. FAWK AMERICA

I love this comic I LOVE THIS COMIC!!! I love love love when Cass has a conversation that leads her to experiment which leads her to self discovery. oh my god. truly baffled and disgusted as she discovers gender roles, she just like me fr

THIS^^^^^^ is so, it's such a good way of broadcasting cass's insecurities and emotions to the audience. unlike a lot of characters cass rarely ever says what she's feeling, even when asked she'll often lie. it's either that or a lack of self awareness/means of communication when it comes to her own emotions. BUT this also shows that cass is aware of the complex interpersonal dynamics and drama around her. Usually these things are just implied like when Cass wordlessly punches the shit out of dick for making babs cry, but this is one of the first times in the comic where these things that cass had been feeling and hearing are told instead of shown [which is pretty 50/50 considering the kinda jarring writer switch but I think this specifically was a cool choice]

Cass has a tendency to avoid emotional topics centered around her all together but at the climax of this arc she's forced to confront very conflicting views of her identity, social pressures, and her own insecurities.

this part got to me BAD

Cass's pure and utter devastation in response to Bruce attempting to fire her (I say attempt bcs that shit barely lasted a day) is so gutwrenching. batgirl was the first name she ever had, the first identity as a human being she'd ever had. Not to mention her suicidal-perfectionism. For Batman of all people to say those things to her, not only does she not have anything outside of batgirl (partially BECAUSE of him) but she's literally as close to perfect as it gets, matter a fact bruce literally calls her perfect. To be accused of jeopardizing the mission, despite that she might be the only person who values it just as much as bruce does..No wonder she shatters into a billion pieces when he does that to her. she has nothing else to be if she's not batgirl.

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Sacrifices series: Chapter 2: The hunt

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Series Summary: After closing the Darkhold, Wanda struggled to find her place in the word. Until she met you that is. And in you, she found hope. But the past has a way of coming back and she’s faced with an impossible choice once again. A choice that’s going to break her heart. Chapter summary: After the last time she saw you, Wanda spent every waking moment trying to capture the monster, who was terrorizing her city and causing mass panic. What will she stumble on?

Warning: angst!; nightmares, lack of self-care, sleeplessness, emotional trauma; Hurt - No Comfort ; Blood, human sacrifice, gory details of a mutilated body, dark magic... That should be it, but in case I missed anything, please let me know. Also, Reader will not be making an appearance in this chapter, but she has a significant role to play in the future. Chapter 1: Sacrifices

It had been exactly 9 days since Wanda last came to see you. Nine terrible days, filled with exhaustion and disheartening failure. She worked tirelessly to find the person responsible for all the dark sacrifices. They were calling him “The Sorcerer” on every news platform there was, stopping regular broadcasts for every small detail the reporters could get their hands on. It was causing only outrage. That was the worst part. But if it meant views, no one cared to listen. She had hardly slept all that time. Her nightmares were getting worse. More realistic, more vivid. She almost felt trapped in them, every time she managed to fall asleep. As if invisible bonds were holding her prisoner in her own hellish plane of existence, refusing to let her go. It was getting harder to claw her way out of them. She had started to fear falling asleep. Not without someone watching over her. But who would be there to watch the Scarlet Witch sleep? She hardly had any friends left, despite what she was being told. Besides… Who could she trust? The dark circles under her eyes were growing bigger, her eyes sunken in. She had lost her will for most things. She was ready to break down completely. And the only thing that gave her hope, that helped her hold herself together, was the hope of seeing you again. After another dead end and way too many grotesque pictures of the horrors left behind by The Sorcerer, she sighed, defeated and unable to continue doing this a moment longer. Her heart ached so bad. Not just for herself, but for the millions out there, that lived in fear, for those who suffered the consequences of that monster’s actions. God, she needed to do better! Everyone was counting on her to find him, to stop him from doing any more harm, and she was failing! How pathetic… The most powerful magic wielder in the world, and she couldn’t catch a stupid man, playing with powers he didn’t understand… She had one more location to run down for the day, one last place, where he could have been hiding, before she would be done and she could finally rest. She could finally get in her car and drive to your house. That’s what she called rest now. Sneaking and sculking around your house like a criminal, just to sneak a glance at you from your windows. Ugh, she truly was pathetic. How low she had fallen… Driving through the streets filled her with a sense of dread. There was another protest. People with hateful signs marching with their heads held high. What was to be proud of, she wondered? What kept their heads from hanging, when they said such terrible things? She never thought she’d see the day, when people would once again rise, to burn witches. Had they learned nothing? Were they so easily fooled? Did the actions of one person truly condemn everyone, who had a gift? She didn’t believe that. But to prove it, she had to catch him first.

The whole world was wrong. And no one felt the sting of it as much as she did. Being able to read minds didn’t help, either. Almost anyone she passed thought of the dangerous monster, that walked the streets. Who would be his next sacrifice? What would be the terrible consequence of it this time? How many would it affect? No one knew, but everyone feared for their lives, their families, their children, their homes… Everyone was sending suspicious looks at their surroundings. They had so many reports of people claiming to know who The Sorcerer was. Most times it was simply neighbours they didn’t like, co-workers they envied, poor strangers, who had been unlucky to catch the eye of the wrong person. Ugly. All of it. She hated it. But sometimes, they got some legitimate intel. Like this last location. Which is why she was forcing herself to go there today. When she reached the old building, she could feel the dark energy that surged from it. She could never mistake it. It was like the perfume of a long-lost lover. She couldn’t name it, couldn’t touch it, couldn’t explain it in any way, yet she would always recognize it. And here, it lingered in the air, it seeped into the building, the concrete pavement, the very earth this place was standing on. All polluted. It made her sick to her stomach. Or was it that she hadn’t eaten in… How long was it now? She didn’t remember her last proper meal. But she had found a protein shake in the kitchen this morning. At least she drank that. Not that it mattered much. As she made her way inside, Wanda felt almost dizzy. Her very being rebelled against the energy of this place. It roared with outrage and disgust. Yet another, small, but undeniable part of her felt like it was just waking at the presence of such darkness. “Don’t touch anything here.” An inner voice whispered. “All diseased. All rotten.” It kept whispering, making her wish she could cover her ears and turn away. She could still see the door back there, she could still walk away from this place and never return… What wishful thinking. She could no more run away from here, than she could run from herself and she knew it. But it helped, giving herself the illusion of choice, when there was but one. Forward. As she ascended the stairs, her eyes peering up, she almost hoped he would be here. She needed this to end. She needed for this to be over, so she could be free.

“At least freedom is still possible for you.” That voice spoke again. That inner awareness of hers. And just when she was about to ask what that meant, a realization, or rather, a sudden recognition of another presence alerted her that she wasn’t alone and it dawned on her. There were people living here. Amongst all this… Filth. If she could feel it from outside, if it was consuming the entire building… What did it do to them? “Death.” Hissed that voice again. An echo of something she already knew. “Only death.” And that confirmation made her feel sad, most of all. Sad, that she had taken so long to find this place. Sad, that she had failed them too. That she had left them to live with this. A sudden bang, somewhere above her, startled her, making her blink away the almost trans-like state she had been walking in and she summoned all her strength, all her power, to face whatever was lurking here. Her heart was beating faster with every step she took, climbing each floor with this gut-wrenching feeling that something was waiting for her there. That she was being watched. But there was no one. Only the muffled sounds of people, behind their closed doors. Each one living their own lives there, completely unaware of how much they were being affected by the evil presence that loomed over the place. Then again, not everyone was lucky enough to be able to leave. She could see, hear, she could smell the poverty here. Now that was a true horror. A very real evil that she alone was unable to fight, or win against. Poverty claimed more lives than that Sorcerer could in a lifetime. It was the true enemy of the people in this world. Yet, there were no protests of outrage, when children starved and died, when potential was snuffed out in so many households, just for the lack of money… No one cried for the people lost to that evil… Tragic really. That people would band together and hunt down that Sorcerer, that they would do unspeakable things to him in the blink of an eye, yet would stay docile and submissive, when faced with the man-made atrocities of this world. Tragic. It almost made her want to give up then and there. But people didn’t have much protection against magic. And so, it fell on her to protect them. Even if not all deserved the grace of her efforts.

She had reached the top floor, wrapped up in such thoughts, carelessly unalert. It wasn’t like her to be so easily distracted. But she realized it wasn’t her. It was this place. It had a power of its own. It was messing with her and she had to remind herself to be at full attention. It was dangerous here… Especially here. There was a single door on the top floor, glaring at her, as if it could scare her into leaving. So much decay here… It wasn’t just the surface, the chipped paint or the dust, it was an undercurrent of sorts, a living, breathing thing that ran through the whole building, poisoning everything it touched… He must be here. No place was better suited. No place she ever stepped foot in had so much darkness in it. It was like it was made of evil. She used her powers to unlock the door, surprised that it would even work. There were no protective enchantments, no defences she could feel or spot. There was no one inside either. She could hear no thoughts, feel no sign of life. The door just opened for her and Wanda stepped inside with a sense of dread inside her. She could smell the decay here, mixed with herbs and spices that lingered in the air. She walked into the hallway, trying not to breathe too deeply. The smell was so heavy it almost made her lightheaded. And it looked like a normal apartment really… If it wasn’t for the negligence she could see with every step. Furniture falling apart, paint falling from the ceiling and walls, the dust and grime she could see everywhere. Who would choose to live like this? The next room she stumbled upon was a small, dark bedroom. The smell of dirty sheets and unwashed clothes hit her nostrils as soon as she opened the door and it made her eyes sting. How disgusting it all looked. The windows were closed shut, heavy drapes covered every surface that could give off light, making the room even more unwelcoming. She wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemies. This… Life.

Wanda stepped away from the room, grateful to be able to breathe more freely, even if reluctantly and she made her way to the next room, a more specious living room it seemed. There was a strange buzzing sound she couldn’t quite place here. Irritating and low. The curtains were closed here too, preventing her from seeing clearly and she used her magic to pull them aside, causing a cloud of dust to start spinning in the air around them, illuminated by the sun-beams that made their way inside. She could see bowls and plates of half-finished food on the small table, all rotten and mouldy now. There were flies everywhere, feeding, buzzing, flying around her as if to test if she could be part of their next meal too. It made her sick. On impulse, or perhaps, because she couldn’t stand the feel of it much longer, a blast of magic surged from within her and into the room, causing the small insects to fall. Dead in an instant. One fell right at her feet and she looked at it for a long moment, her face a grimace of open disgust, before she looked away. She didn’t dare look down again, too scared to watch herself walk over them as she stepped further inside. Looking past the broken couch and the ripped carpet, the first thing she saw was writing. It was on the walls, the floor, on random pieces of paper. Scribbles and notes everywhere. Spells. Real ones. Those that weren’t, she soon saw, were covered in paper and then that was overwritten with new spells. So many, she had to take her phone out and photograph, so she could examine later. The next thing she noticed, the one thing she realized wasn’t broken, or destroyed, were shelves. Full of mundane things, or so it seemed, but her eyes stopped on a shelf filled with books. Old ones. There were no titles on the spines, so she took one, delicate fingers opening the heavy, hand-stitched covers to find that it was a grimoire. Or an attempt at one. Her senses told her that whatever spell was being described on the pages she was looking at wouldn’t really work, regardless how much power one had. But it was a beautiful book. A real antique. And it made her wonder what else was hiding there. She used her magic to pull them all off the shelf, holding them up in the air and opening the pages. They were all books on magic! Old, new, some full of misinformation, but some… They had some truth to them. Whoever this person was… They had a real treasure-trove of information. And a book on the Scarlet Witch. The prophecy, the description of her powers… All there. Was he researching her? Was he thinking of going after her? How long did he have that book for? Did he know who she was, how to find her? But what scared her most of all, was the thought that if he knew who she was, he could also know about you. You could be in real danger and she wouldn’t know it, because she left you!

The thought of that almost made her heart pound out of her chest as panic gripped her, refusing to let go. She hadn’t seen you in 9 days! So many things could happen in that time. What if he did know about you? What if he hurt you? She would never be able to live with herself if that happened. And the only reason she could even breathe, the only reason she wasn’t running to you right now, was the thought that she hadn’t heard of a new victim of The Sorcerer. He was laying low these days. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with her. Maybe he had stumbled on this, saw that he couldn’t use this book and moved on? But the only way for her to find out, was to find him. And to do that, she needed to know more about him. Wanda closed the open books in a swift motion and she left them in a pile on the shelf. She’d be taking them with her on her way out. She wanted to go through them, when she had more time and she wasn’t paralyzed with fear for your life. With uncertain steps, she stumbled upon the kitchen, the sight making her gag. Dirty dishes and rotten food lay everywhere, the smell of it so completely overpowering, she had to cover her nose and mouth with her hand. The bugs and maggots here were thriving and she couldn’t stand the sight, so she moved on. She couldn’t possibly find what she needs here anyway. There were only 2 more doors she hadn’t tried. One was clearly the bathroom and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to stomach whatever was waiting for her there, so she chose the second one instead. But it wasn’t simple choice or chance. It was a feeling of sorts. Something calling her to that spot. Something dark and mysterious, something alluring, yet repulsive. Magic. The worst kind of magic. She could feel it. The corruption that started there, originated there and was spreading out. It was unmistakable and it was calling out to her. With every step she took, Wanda could feel the power that was concentrated behind that door. With how strong it was, she was surprised that The Sorcerer managed to keep out intruders up until now. Such dark magic sought out to corrupt anyone and anything. Other would have felt it too. They must have. When she opened the door, she gasped, the coolness that washed over her making her shiver and step back for a moment. But it wasn’t just that, it was that smell again. Death. So much stronger than before. It was all-consuming here.

Like this entire apartment, the room was dark too. In fact, it was much darker and she summoned her magic, so she could illuminate the space, searching for a light switch on the wall, but unsurprisingly, there was no electricity. She could see candles though and she lit some, hoping to see better, but as soon as she did, she wished she had never stepped foot in this place at all. Right in front of her, nailed to the wall, was a body. A human one. His eyes were carved out, the jagged edges around the wounds bloody. His chest had a hole too. Right where his heart was supposed to be. The organs were removed, gone now, probably taken by the monster who did this… She could see the poor man’s neck was snapped and she realized it’s probably how he died. Hopefully it was quick.

But what did The Sorcerer intend to do with the organs? He was going to use them for something. A spell. Another omen perhaps? And she needed to know what it was. Swallowing, Wanda forced herself to look away from the grotesque display on the wall, lighting the rest of the candles in the room, so she could see better. There was an alter here. It was obvious it grew, just as his obsession with dark magic did. Objects were placed there with great care, but as his collection grew larger, he had less space to fit them all. Idols, bones, figurines, objects with dark power… There was only 1 thing missing, a central piece that had its own place of significance. Something he must have taken with him. His book. The grimoire he used for his spells. It was gone… “Fuck!” She cursed under her breath, her eyes scanning the room frantically. There were other books. He must have moved those with significance here… Once he realized which ones were actually written by magic wielders. But the one he was using for his spells was gone. He was too. And she had no idea where he would be going. He must have known that someone was going to come for him. But how? “Damn it!” She screamed, a burst of magic knocking over his alter, his objects scattering on the floor, some, more fragile things breaking in the process. She wanted to hunt him down more than ever. She wanted to run out of the building as if she’d find him on the street, just waiting for her. But life was never that easy. Wanda walked out of the apartment with newfound determination, a stack of all his books trailing behind her, hovering in the air. She didn’t bother to hide her powers. In fact, she was hoping that he would be watching. She hoped he’d see her make her next move too. She made a call to S.H.I.E.L.D, briefly explaining the situation and she waited for the black cars to start coming. It didn’t take long. Agents were everywhere, surrounding the place and the one in charge approached her with careful steps. “Get all the people out.” Wanda said through gritted teeth. “This is a condemned building now.” “I understand.” The woman smiled at her, making a sign for the agent beside her to start spreading the word. “Top floor. That’s where he used to be.” Wanda continued, looking up briefly. “There’s a body inside.” The woman only nodded this time. Far more serious at the implications of another dead body. “Not one of his sacrifices. But it will be.” The redheaded woman continued, before the agent could interrupt her. “Just… Give the poor man a burial.” She said, a note of tiredness in her voice and she turned to leave. “And after that?” The agent spoke after her, stopping her in her tracks. Wanda looked back at the woman, then the building, ugly and grey and somehow more disturbingly unnerving than it was when she first came here. “Tear it down.” She said, a tremor in her hand giving away how much she wanted to do it herself. “Tear it down and salt the earth.” “Does that help?” The woman spoke again, thoughtful. “It has to.” Wanda said, her voice much smaller now. “It has to.”

---------------------------------------------------------------- It took me some time for the second part, but inspiration struck and I wrote this in 3 days. I'd love to know what you guys think! I have 2 more chapters in mind for this series. Should I write them too?

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 31 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: This one's a little late since I'm out of town for my best friend's wedding! It's been busy, but so much fun! That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter before something truly chaotic. We're close to the end now! Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!

May 1945 

The return to Thorpe Abbotts was a happy one, albeit one that caused a little bit of confusion given the amount of family members that Ruth had returned with.  Ruth wasn’t going to let them just stay in London—so John, Sveta, David, and her Uncle Yosef all ended up coming to stay at Thorpe Abbotts for the time being.  And they weren’t the only ones that were back.  

The men that had been downed in the Stalag had returned to Thorpe Abbotts as well and that meant that the place was packed to the brim with people.  It was a welcome sight to Ruth, who had thought that the place seemed a little empty before she had left. 

Though the end of the war was practically here (at least in Europe), Ruth knew that her work was just beginning.  Going into Germany, being on the front-lines, seeing firsthand the brutality of what her people had experienced—it had awoken something in Ruth that she had never felt before.  There was a righteous rage that made her want to be the hand of God, the hand of justice, in seeing the wicked powers of Nazism burned from the very earth she stood on.  

There was also the fact that the war in the Pacific raged on and until something drastic took place, it was likely that those that fought in Europe would be sent there too.  Ruth wanted it all to just end.  She wanted this war to be over so that she could help the people who had been displaced and hurt and wronged.  She wanted to reunite families and help those that had been separated from their home countries be able to return to a safe place. 

It was all just a dream to her, but a beautiful dream nonetheless.  Ruth wasn’t sure she would have the heart to go through with it, had she not talked to Robby about the entire thing.  He had determined that he would help in the trials against the Nazis as a lawyer—and that singular fact had urged her to share her ideas of helping the Jewish people in Europe with him. 

Robby, true to his character and nature, had beamed at her and told her that he’d stick by her however long it took her.  

Fewer and fewer battle missions went out anymore.  Now their purpose was changing.  No more were they going out and being the terrors of the skies, vying for control and leaving bodies in their wake.  Now they were running relief aid into the countries that had been ravaged by the war.  Now they were running mercy missions to help those that needed it the most.  

At that, Ruth had several thoughts and provided a great deal of counsel of the places that needed it most.  

For the first time in her life, Ruth Sharpe felt utterly fulfilled and needed in a whole new way. Between having both of her brothers on the base, several cousins, and her uncle Yosef, Ruth didn’t feel like she was alone on the continent anymore.  There was the fact that she and Robby—well she wasn’t quite sure what to call them.  Girlfriend and boyfriend didn’t seem to convey the depth of their feelings for one another.  All she knew is that he was it for her.  And he always would be. 

All of these thoughts just seemed to bounce around in her mind like a rubber band snapping and rebounding over and over again.  Then one day, it all just seemed to change like a blink of an eye. 

For Ruth Sharpe, who began the war with the broadcast on December 8th 1941, another broadcast would mark a turning point.  She was sitting in the command office next to Jack Kidd and occasionally making a few notes about another relief mission that would soon be flown when the announcement came in. 

One of the aides for the camp came running as fast as he could, immediately turning on the radio.  Almost immediately, everyone in the entirety of the command office went silent and held their breath as the announcement was made.  

“Yesterday morning at 2:41 am, at General Eisenhower’s Headquarters, General Jodl, the representative of the German High Command, and of Grand Admiral Dönitz, the designated head of the German State, signed the act of unconditional surrender of all German land, sea, and air forces in Europe to the Allied Expeditionary Force and simultaneously to the Soviet High Command. Hostilities will officially end at one minute after midnight tonight, Tuesday the 8th of May. But in the interest of saving lives, the ceasefire began yesterday to be sounded all along the front and our dear Channel Islands.”

Ruth knew that the minute those words were spoken, millions of people all over the world were likely weeping and rejoicing at the thought of the war being over.  The long shadow and night in Europe was over—and though there was still war in the Pacific, it didn’t matter much to Ruth.  Their part was done now—and she could finally focus on her family, on her people, in the way that they all deserved it. 

She scarcely processed the fact that everyone was cheering and excitedly rejoicing the news.  Ruth let the tears fall freely—for the men that they had lost, the civilian lives taken, the people who had suffered under tyranny and godlessness, and for the families that had been affected by this damn war.  

The next few minutes were sheer and total madness as she began running—she had to get to her brothers, had to get to her family, had to get to Robby.  Because if this was all over, then they had a hell of a lot of things to talk about and figure out—but more importantly, they had so much to celebrate. 

When she caught sight of Robby and John embracing outside near the tarmac, Ruth couldn’t help the fact that she gave a cheer.  And then she caught sight of Abe and Liesel sprinting full-force at her and Ruth couldn’t help what happened next—she took a spill straight into the mud as they collided with her and she just threw her head back and gave a gut-wild laugh. 

When Robby finally extended a hand to Ruth, having made his way over there, Ruth just gave a grin and then tugged him into the mud too.  “Ruth!” Robby exclaimed with a yelp. 

But she wasn’t sorry.  They were all together.  This war was over.  And there was so much hope in the air—it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While everyone on Thorpe Abbotts was throwing the celebration of a lifetime, Ruth found herself and her small family unit crowded in her office.  They were all sharing drinks and cigarettes, exchanging treats and chocolate, and lighting candles for the ones that they had lost along the way. 

Ruth had never been big on parties and this was much preferable to being in a large setting, even though she had grown quite fond of the people at Thorpe Abbotts.  It was Liesel who kicked off the entire discussion that was so desperately needed.  Perched atop Ruth’s spare chair, Liesel leaned forward with a pensive expression upon her face. 

“What is it, Li?” Sveta questioned, hand rubbing against her younger sister’s hair. 

Liesel just squinted, gaze flickering between Robby and Ruth—both of whom were snuggled up together in Ruth’s chair, almost obscenely happy together.  “Well…I suppose I am just wondering what we will do now that it is all over.” 

Ruth glanced around at the uncertainty in the room—everyone had it on their face.  And Ruth couldn’t say that she entirely blamed them.  Liesel had been through literal hell just trying to escape with her mother—only for her mother to have been killed and for a kind family to take her all the way to England.  Sveta had miraculously survived the executions at the camps and been brought here.  But they had no place to go to, no home to return to. 

The same was true for David—his entire family had been caught and killed fairly early on in the war and he was completely alone, sans their Uncle Yosef—and his wife and all of his children and grandchildren had been lost to the camps.  None of these people had homes or families to return to.  And the country they had come from would not be kind to them if they returned. 

No, they needed to go to America.  They would need Visas for that.  They would need endorsements.  They would need Ruth.  

Her gaze flickered onto John and Abe, both of whom just seemed to be paying attention to her reaction in the entire thing. 

“I think,” Ruth began carefully.  “It all depends on what you want to do.  Robby and I,” she said, entwining Robby’s hand in hers.  “Have talked and we want to stay in Europe.” 

“What?” Abe’s expression fell at the thought. 

“I’ve been asked to assist in the trials,” Robby explained in a soothing tone.  “And Ruth—” 

“I’m not going until I can help more of our people here.  There are families who have been separated, people who don’t know if they have anything to return to.  I feel—I feel like I need to do what I can.  But if you all want to go—” 

Almost immediately, the room was in an uproar.  Finally, Uncle Yosef seemed to take control of the conversation, clearing his throat and shaking his head.  “As much as I want to see my brother, I do not feel I can yet leave your side, my Rutha.” 

Ruth felt a small smile cross her features.  “You’d stay to help?” 

Yosef just gave a nod.  “If you are helping our people, then I will do the same.” 

“Well we’re not going anywhere without you either,” John insisted, crossing his arms and giving Ruth a look.  “Besides, don’t you two, like, need chaperones or something?” 

At that, Robby snorted.  “And you qualify?” 

“Yes!” John insisted.  

“Besides, ma’ will kill me if I show up by myself,” Abe added.  “She’ll be more pleased if you bring us home with you.” 

“That just leaves you three,” Ruth stated, gaze falling onto David, Sveta, and Liesel. 

Liesel’s expression immediately turned to one of fierce stubbornness.  “Well I’m not leaving you either.  You promised me that I’d get to see Big Ben and I shan’t leave until I’ve done so.” 

Ruth gave a laugh and Sveta solemnly promised that she wanted to stay with her sister.  That left just David to give an answer.  The young man just rolled his eyes and glanced around at the room.  “As if any of you would have any fun without me.  I’m staying too.” 

“Then that settles it,” Ruth said with a nod.  “I’ll write to mother—” 

“No, no, no!” Yosef exclaimed.  “We must surprise your parents!” 

Ruth blinked in surprise.  “You want to kill off my parents by giving them heart attacks when I bring you all back?” 

Yosef just grinned, a slight twinkle in his eye revealing the mischievous nature of his plan.  “No!  I just think it would make for a better reunion if we all went together and surprised them after the trials!” 

“Your ma’ will kill us,” Robby mumbled. 

“Considering this isn’t a dictatorship, I suppose I should let you all vote,” Ruth said, crossing her arms with a huff. 

With only her and Robby voting to tell their parents, Ruth silently accepted the fact that her mother, was in fact, going to murder her when she got back. “Well I guess we’re not telling anyone that you’re all alive,” Robby said, letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Is your entire family this argumentative?” 

“It’s genetic,” Ruth said, pressing a short kiss to his cheek. 

Uncle Yosef leaned forward, rubbing his hands together.  “Then I suppose that only leaves one small matter.” 

“What’s that, Uncle Yosef?” Abe questioned, gaze falling on the older man. 

Yosef’s gaze leveled onto Robby and Ruth.  “I think you two should get married.  Preferably soon.  Preferably with me performing the marriage.” 

Ruth’s jaw dropped. “Uncle Yosef!” 

He just grinned.  “I know love when I see it!  And Robby is good Jewish boy!  What more you want?” 

“Yeah, Ruthie,” Robby grinned.  “What more do you want?  Whaddya say?  Wanna elope?” 

Ruth just scowled.  “If mother wasn’t going to kill me for bringing you all home and not telling her you all were alive, she’s certainly going to kill me for this.  Aah….what the hell—sure!” 

[echo-goes-mmm]

Second-Hand Goods Finale

Masterpost

Previous

Warnings: referring to someone as “broken”, dehumanization, conditioning, implied dub/non-con, “stockholm syndrome”

Ander was pleasantly surprised that Emmett had broken so easily. Was it the withdrawal that finally did him in, or the isolation? Or maybe the client he bought his pet from had done more damage than he thought and jumpstarted the process?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Emmett was cute and compliant, and that was all Ander needed. 

He moved Emmett's kennel to his room, just in case he needed to punish him a bit, but it only collected dust.

He even acquiesced on some privileges; Emmett had a hoodie to go along with his boxers (adorable), and had full range of the house. Of course, he’d be locked in his room when Ander went to pick up some product, but Emmett didn’t seem to mind. 

He didn’t seem to mind much of anything anymore, too eager to please to object. 

Just how Ander wanted him.

___________________

Emmett was on the couch, engrossed in his book, when he heard the back door open and close. Odd. Master would have told him if he was going out; he needed to be locked in his room. Master wouldn’t just leave.

What if someone had broken in?

He got up to go look for him. 

The basement door was locked, so he wasn’t downstairs. He dared to peek into Master’s bedroom, but it was empty. So was the kitchen, the bathrooms, and of course he wasn’t in the living room.

Emmett was home alone.

He bit his lip. What to do? Master had even forgotten to lock the front door. It was a nice day out, and the door was ajar to let the light through the glass of the storm door.

Hesitantly, he closed the door and slid the deadbolt into place. He drew the blinds closed, and curled back up on the couch. He went back to his book, and waited for Master to come home.

___________________

Ander was on his way home when he realized he’d forgotten to secure Emmett. Panic slammed into him like a train; he was two hours away with no idea what he was up to.

His house was pretty distant from the rest of town, but there was ample time for Emmett to slip out, alert the police, and have the whole state looking for his car.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

He eyed the speedometer. He was already seven over the speed limit, and there was no way he could risk getting pulled over with a bag of sedatives in the passenger seat and a product in his trunk.

He turned the radio to the news and clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He flipped on cruise control and waited to hear his name on the broadcast.

___________________

Ander pulled into the driveway, vibrating with anxiety. He glanced around, but could see no hastily hidden cops.

He sprinted up to the house, fumbling his keys and cursing. He finally got the lock, slamming the door open.

“Emmett!? Emmett!?” He ran through the house, nearly colliding with him. Emmett flinched away, dropping to his knees and looking up at him.

“Master, what’s wrong?”

Ander was still shaking, and he took in deep breaths trying to calm down. His heart was beating so fast.

He pulled himself together. “Nothing, I just.. It’s nothing.” He ran his hand through his hair.

Calm down, he told himself. Nothing happened. Everything’s fine. 

Emmett was still waiting on the floor, and he looked shaken. Ander glanced down at him.

“Go wait for me in your room.”

“Yes, Master.” Emmett got up and obeyed, and Ander watched him disappear down the hall. 

He turned to go back to the car and unload.

As he hefted the new stock downstairs, Ander thanked himself and god (in that order) that Emmett didn’t try to escape. But then a thought struck him.

He hastily cuffed the woman to a pole and pulled out his phone. He checked the security alerts. There was one notification. 

Had Emmett left and come back?

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he rewound the footage. The cameras caught Emmett wandering, checking the house. Making sure he was gone. Dammit.

But then Emmett paused at the front door, fiddling with the hem of his gray hoodie.

Don’t do it, he thought, Please tell me you didn’t.

Footage-Emmett closed the front door, locked it, and picked up his book again.

Ander felt the weight on his shoulders disappear. Escape was right in front of him, and Emmett hadn’t taken it.

Such a good boy deserved a reward, and Ander needed some stress relief. 

___________________

Emmett snuggled into Master’s chest, his arms wrapped around his waist and back. He wasn’t in trouble after all; he’d done well to wait for Master right where he left him. 

His reward was some sex (this time he got a blowjob before getting fucked) and takeout that he got to pick (!).

As he dozed off, his only thought was that he’d made the right choice.

He belonged here. He was better than all those guests, all those things that came and went from the house. He was special and good, and Master loved him.

And Emmett loved him back.

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