#and more 'people yelling at us a little while also being downright cruel to their opponents ESPECIALLY in techno/scar' that did it

[theminecraftbee]

because i'm seeing it come up again, a quick "mod thoughts re: all the voter fraud" discussion:

okay so like. in a perfect world, tumblr would have email verification that actually mattered, and we, the mods, would have some more effective way to prevent voter fraud than saying "oh no don't do fraud that's bad". however, we have neither of those things, and doing fraud on our polls is... ridiculously, laughably easy.

so, imagine our distress when during the techno/scar round, a lot of scar fans started getting very, very angry about fraud we weren't sure was even happening? that, indeed, we had absolutely no reason to think was happening at the time, and no way to do anything about it if was?

well. there were two options. and we took the one that would lead to everyone having more fun and things being less toxic overall in the community. the thing is: if we'd said "voter fraud is entirely unallowed, this thing we can't prevent and can't moderate", then the toxicity of fanbases blaming each other for "breaking the rules" would have gone through the roof. full-stop. and we... didn't want that. this poll did not matter. it still doesn't matter. it had grown wildly, wildly bigger than we'd expected, and we had basically no way to control the way everyone was acting about it, but we didn't want to make a statement that would cause people to be even meaner to each other.

so instead, we took the funny option. we said "yeah do whatever voter fraud you want we don't care". SLIGHTLY regret that we didn't know tumblr tried to make you follow random strangers' blogs when you made a new account otherwise maybe we would have been a BIT more clear about 'don't do that', but listen. by saying "voter fraud is totally fine" we made it funny that people were cheating. we made it so there was basically no such thing as "cheating". we made it so, and this was key, the growing toxicity about "but they're BOTTING" was stupid, because like... everyone's doing it now. openly and blatantly doing it. voters fraud is a beautiful name for a baby girl, and this poll doesn't matter and isn't worth getting worked up over, and you can't cheat if it's not against the rules and everyone's doing it anyway, is the idea here.

like, in an ideal world, would we have rampant voter fraud? nah. in a world where we can't stop it if it happens, though... may as well make sure both sides have equal opportunity to fraud, right? like, that makes it even again, right? and more importantly, it reminds people that this shit really, really doesn't matter.

anyway all of this is to say that if you all start coming into our notes and inbox again to start being really toxic about the other side of the poll and make me cry again i will be pissed.

[ahsbitch]

Yes, Mr. Langdon---Fire & Reign!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 3228

Summary: Reader is F&R!Michael’s assistant, who is always quick to do whatever he asks. Michael wants to see how far she’ll go to do just that. 

Warnings: NSFW, lots of swearing, masturbation, Reader gets a facial, bootlicking, degradation, humiliation ish?, some Mean!Michael, but also kinda Soft!Michael at the end bc I’m soft and lonely at heart, that’s all I can think of idk

A/N: Hi I’ve literally never written any AHS stuff before so I apologize if this sucks but I really hope it doesn’t  

Being the personal assistant to the Antichrist was definitely not the easiest job in the world.

But when held in comparison to your time in restaurant service, it definitely wasn’t the hardest either. 

At least here, you rarely had to deal with obstinate customers. Most people were too frightened of your boss, Mr. Langdon, to yell or be rude in his presence, which you were constantly in, and on the occasion that they were rude or stubborn anyway, he had a tendency to give a little wave of his hand, incinerating them before your very eyes. 

No, the rudest and most needy person you typically had to deal with was Mr. Langdon himself. 

The rude came and went in waves. He could be cruel, demeaning, downright evil at times. He acted, in short, much like one might expect the Antichrist to. But sometimes, he could be charming, gentle, occasionally even sweet. 

The neediness came and went in waves too, although it was more often very subtly present than anything else. Usually he was commanding, powerful, clearly in charge. But sometimes, although still commanding, he could be almost childlike in his confusion and frustration. 

He was kind of an asshole, but he wasn’t the worst boss in the world. There was something about him that was compelling, that made you feel a great desire to please him. He was always specific about what he wanted, and you always complied, no matter how out of the box, how insulting, how simple or extreme, how kind or how demeaning. You said yes to everything he asked you. 

And he had begun to take great notice of it.

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

“Fucking, fuck, dammit to hell, this fucking, son of a bitch!” 

You sat at your desk just outside of Michael Langdon’s office, transcribing a giant tome of text as instructed by the Cooperative, and listening to your boss curse loudly at inanimate objects. 

You should probably get up, check on him, but you decided that until he reached the point of breaking things-

“Fuck!” He shouted, and then there was a bang and a very, very loud crash. 

Yeah, until he started doing stuff like that. 

You rose with a shake of your head, knocking sharply on his door three times. 

“Come in,” Michael sighed, and as you walked in you took note of the shattered computer against the opposite wall of his desk, turning back to look at your boss with his head laying against said desk, hands gripping at his golden curls.

Dammit, he was frustrated. 

Frustrated Michael could be particularly difficult to deal with. 

You stood before him, hands folded neatly in front of you, smiling pleasantly even though he wasn’t looking at you yet, “You sounded like you might be in need of assistance, Mr. Langdon. Would you mind fixing your computer?” 

He grunted quietly, giving a little swirl of his hand, although he didn’t lift his head, and you stepped out of the way as the technology flew back into place, drifting into its original position. 

“Very good. Now, if you don’t mind, could you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m not a child, Y/N,” Michael growled, and you bit your tongue gently to resist the urge to laugh. 

Moving to the side of the desk, you smiled to yourself at his little temper tantrum, “Of course not, Mr. Langdon. I am merely at your service.” 

“Of course you are,” Sitting up finally, he turned to you, and you were amused to see the pout that sat on his lips, the intimidating man looking suddenly very young, more his own age, “The mouse won’t work.” 

“May I?” You didn’t wait for him to agree, already wiggling the mouse once and then moving to the wires of the computer, fiddling with them quickly before sliding the mouse back to Michael, “That should do it.” 

“What was wrong with it?” He glanced up at you, voice gruff, although you could hear a hint of curiosity.

You shifted where you stood, trying to mask your discomfort, “Just, uh, just technology stuff.”

“Y/N,” Turning in his chair, Michael pinned you in place with his gaze, and you were unsure whether this was metaphorical pinning or not, with how frozen you felt, “Tell me what was wrong with it.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Trying to keep your smile in place rather than let a grimace take you over, you grit your teeth in preparation for him to do something violent, “The mouse wasn’t plugged in all the way. It’s a fairly common issue. Happens all the time.”

You tensed, but to your surprise Michael didn’t yell or break something or curse, like he usually did when he felt a sense of ineptitude. Instead, he laughed, and normally that would’ve scared you even more, but it was such a warm and gentle laugh that you felt yourself relaxing ever so slightly as he spoke, “Of course it was. Tell me, Y/N, is there anything wrong with you?”

Shrugging, you let yourself perch on the edge of his desk with a giggle, “Plenty of things, believe me.”

“Tell me some?” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” Pausing, you mused over your words, testing each on the tip of your tongue before you said it, “Let’s see. My left foot is bigger than my right. I think jealousy is a very ugly emotion, and I hate it, but I have a lot of insecurities, and often find myself jealous of people around me in spite of my best efforts. Um, I read cheesy romance novels in my free time even though the writing usually makes me cringe. When people ask me what type of lipstick I use I always lie because I don’t want anyone else to have lips that look as good as mine. Oh, and even though I exclusively call you Mr. Langdon out loud, I will confess that in my head I usually refer to you as Michael. It’s faster, y’know.”

Chuckling softly once more, Michael nodded, “Those don’t sound too bad, as far as problems go. You’re lucky.”

“I prefer to think of myself as adaptable.”

“Fair enough,” He grinned, but something dangerous glittered behind his eyes, “You can go now, Y/N.” 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You flashed him a small smile before hurrying out of the room.

Michael watched you leave, musing over your words. 

How far, he wondered, how far could he go with his wishes, before you gave in, before you said no. 

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

Why the hell wouldn’t you say no to anything?

It was beginning to drive Michael crazy, watching the way that you gave in to whatever he asked, even when he was being absurd. 

You spent a full day doing all your work in nothing but your underclothes, simply because he asked. 

You gave sat on his lap through a whole meeting with other members of the Cooperative, your superiors, simply because he asked. 

You let him order you to do tiny things. Hand him pens that were two inches away from his fingertips. Kiss the floor where his chair had been sitting. Adjust the brightness of his computer screen for him only to come back and adjust it to its original brightness approximately two minutes later. Simply because he asked. 

What wouldn’t you say yes to? 

He was musing over this as he waited for you to return from a coffee run.

There you were, carrying two paper cups, a pleasant smile on your face. 

Always that same damn smile.

“I have your hot chocolate, Mr. Langdon,” You set the cup in front of him on the desk, “Thank you again for allowing me to get myself a drink.”

Michael glanced up at you, frowning, “Y/N, I always let you get yourself a drink.” 

Shrugging, you raised the cup to your lips and took a sip, “I know you do, Mr. Langdon. But it feels right to thank you. You’re a good boss.” 

Maybe not so much, He thought to himself as he twitched his hand, watching you drop the cup almost in slow motion, watching as the lid came off and your drink spilled just a bit onto his lap, just a bit onto his legs, cursing as the rest came splashing down onto his shoes. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You gasped, staring at your now empty hands in shock.

Sneering at you, Michael snapped twice, “Don’t just stand there, Y/N. Clean up your mess.” 

“Right, I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, let me go get-”

“No,” He grabbed your wrist, not allowing you to move away, and you turned back to him in confusion as he continued to tug you closer, “Get onto your knees, open your mouth, and clean up your mess.” 

Holy fuck.

Ignoring the way your face burned, you averted your eyes, whispering, “Yes, Mr. Langdon,” As you dropped to your knees.

Where exactly were you meant to go with this? 

Michael raised his foot, nudging your chin with it until you looked up and met his gaze, his eyes holding something dark and urgently, compellingly dangerous, “Well? Get to work, Y/N.”  

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.”

Before you could even think any further, he had touched the toe of his boot to your mouth, pushing gently against your bottom lip until you opened for him. 

He was a remarkably clean person, and beyond the taste of your coffee even the shoes themselves didn’t taste particularly bad. 

Probably because they cost more than your apartment. 

You moved slowly at first, but as Michael brought his hands down to wind tightly through your hair, you sped up. You lapped at the droplets of coffee, over the grooves of his laces and up to the sharp, pointed toe of the boot, and when you were done with one you switched to the other. He gripped your hair tightly, guiding your head, forcing you to bob up and down as you cleaned his shoe, and you wondered vacantly to yourself if he did the same thing while he was getting a blowjob. 

Probably. 

“Good girl,” He praised as you worked, his voice softer than you expected, and even Michael seemed surprised as he cleared his throat, his tone becoming darker, “You’re not bad at this. Do you do this often?”

Pausing your ministrations briefly, you shook you head, “No, Mr. Langdon.”

You were back at it immediately, feeling him tug at your head.

Michael was trying hard to sound intimidating, and of course he did, he always did, but there was something shockingly gentle behind his voice even as he growled, “Good. I should be your first priority. Tell me, do you enjoy this?” 

You had finished against his shoes, pulling away, and he released your head as he examined them, smirking at your heavy breathing, at the way you panted your answer, “Would you, uh, do you want me to enjoy this, Mr. Langdon?”

Narrowing his eyes, a frown etched across his face, “What? I mean, no. No, I don’t want you to.”

“Then I don’t,” You shrugged, rocking backwards.

Fuck, you were going to kill him. 

“What if I wanted you to?” 

“Then I would.”

Clearing his throat again, Michael stared at you for a moment before patting his thigh, “There’s coffee on my pants, as well. You’ll need to take care of that, too.”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

He didn’t touch you this time, instead bringing his hands up, reclining further back in his chair and resting his head against his palms as he watched you. 

Starting at the cuff, you stroked your tongue up his pant leg, pressing absentminded kisses occasionally as you went. By the time you’d reached the tops of his thighs, Michael was straining forward ever so slightly, dragging the chair closer to you with one ankle hooked around his desk, and then meeting up with his other ankle to lock behind your back. 

You took the hint, mouthing along the outline of his cock.

Holy shit, he was huge, and you hadn’t even seen it unconstrained. 

He hissed, quietly, his hips bucking forward as you licked your way up to his zipper, clamping your teeth onto it and tugging down without much thought. 

“Stop,” He said firmly, almost laughing as you scrambled back, “Don’t be greedy.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon,” You dropped your gaze and licked your lips, tasting the remains of your coffee. 

“Is this...” Trailing off in thought, Michael guided your face upwards once more, forcing you to make eye contact with him, “Is this embarrassing for you, Y/N?”

“Do you want it to be embarrassing for me?” 

“Stop that,” He snapped, his grip on your chin tightening, “Stop bullshitting me. Give me a real answer. Truthfully, is this embarrassing for you?”

Tapping your fingers along your thighs, musing over your answer a moment, “Truthfully? Of course it is. A lot of the things you have me do, especially lately, I find humiliating.”

There it was. Now would you finally give in, finally reject a request? 

He didn’t say anything, just reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. 

Neither of you spoke, staring at each other instead, and hesitantly you reached for it, flinching as Michael slapped your hand away just as you brushed your fingers against him.

“I told you not to be greedy.”

“Sorry, Mr. Langdon.”

After a moment more, Michael nodded, wrapping his own fist around his cock and beginning to pump it. You watched in fascination as moved, at the way his long fingers wrapped around his thick, long, perfect cock. 

“Y/N,” Snapping you out of your daze, Michael paused to spit into his hand, moving rubbing along the head of his dick before returning to his former position, “I want to jerk off onto your face. I want you to sit there, and watch me, and I want to finish on your face, and when I’m done, I want you to thank me, and I want you to leave it there. Leave it for the rest of the day, so everyone can see how desperate you are to please me.”

Surely, surely you would say no to this. 

“Yes, Mr. Langdon.” 

A growl made its way out of his throat before he could stop it, and he sped up his pace as he watched you fold your hands in your lap, adjusting your knees a little, staring up at him through your fluttering lashes. 

Snarling, Michael grunted, “You’re pathetic, do you know that?”

Did he want you to answer? 

“Keep your pretty little whore mouth shut, got it?” He spoke like he could read your mind, and you decided he probably could as you clamped your teeth shut, nodding quickly as he continued, “Fuck. You’d do anything I asked you to, huh? If I told you to kill someone, you’d do it without question, wouldn’t you? Hell, you’d kill yourself without question, if I asked you to. I think you like feeling humiliated. I think that your pussy gets wetter and wetter every time I tell you what to do. I- shit- I’m your fucking boss, and you’re on your knees for me before I can even finish telling you that’s where you need to be. It’s absurd. You probably want me to fuck you right now. You’re probably wishing I would let you open your mouth so you can swallow me down, you’re so desperate to get a taste of me.”

He was getting closer to finishing, you could tell, his rhythm getting faster and faster, his words becoming more sharply articulated. 

Michael kept going, almost like he was talking himself into cumming, “You can’t wait for me to finish, can you? You can’t wait to feel completely possessed by me, like I’ve somehow claimed you. You can’t wait for everyone who you see to stare at you, full of disgust and confusion. You want it, don’t you? Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Langdon,” You nodded, shutting your eyes as he let out a low, shaky groan, his warm cum coating your face.

Fucking hell.

You opened your eyes slowly, carefully, unsure of whether or not you should move. You watched as Michael stuffed himself back into his pants, zipping them quickly, and then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it out to you.

You didn’t take it but blinked up at him, staring, “I, um, I thought you said to leave it.”

Clicking his tongued, Michael started wiping your face himself, his touch incredibly light, “I thought you’d say no. Tell me to stop. Maybe report me to HR.”

You flicked your eyebrow up, an amused smile settling on your lips, “Do we have an HR for the apocalypse?” 

Chuckling mirthlessly, he raised the handkerchief to his mouth and spat lightly, cleaning your face more intently, “You could say no, do you realize that? Why don’t you ever say no to me?” 

You closed your eyes as he rubbed across the bridge of your nose, dabbing delicately at your eyelids. 

“Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” You asked, finally, as he moved to your hairline. 

His brow furrowed in confusion, “I, uh, no? No, I’ve never seen it.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” His hand moved to your cheek and you leaned into it before you could stop yourself, humming as his thumb moved to run across your skin, “You should watch it sometime. Before you do the whole ending the world thing and kill me and pretty much everyone else in the world and inevitably ruin Netflix. Forget about that. Let’s just say it’s because I’m afraid of you, yeah? You scare me, so I do whatever you say.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Michael pulled his hand away, eyes closed, frowning, “Is that what The Princess Bride is about? Being afraid of your boss?”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and you found yourself wishing that he would touch your face again, although you didn’t dare say so, “Not quite. Just, uh, forget about The Princess Bride. It doesn’t matter.”

He nodded, folding his handkerchief and slipping it into his pocket without opening his eyes, which you found oddly impressive. 

You kept waiting for Michael to say something, to look at you, to move, to do anything, but he wasn’t and he didn’t and so you stood, and started to move away. 

“Wait,” He spoke finally, and you felt as though you’d been in silence for hours although you knew it must’ve only been a few moments.

“Yes, Mr. Langdon?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Michael opened his eyes, looking at you carefully, “I mean, the apocalypse. It’s not going to kill you.”

“It’s not? I thought only members of the Cooperative, and the people rich enough to buy a ticket, I thought they were the only ones who were going to make it.” 

He wrapped his hand around your wrist, just as he had before, but this time it wasn’t aggressive, wasn’t rough. He was very gentle, his fingers skimming along the veins, pausing to feel your pulse thump against him, “And you. There will be a place for you in the new world, Y/N, I promise you that.”

And then Michael had released your wrist and turned away, and you made your way out the door and back to your own desk with a soft, “Thank you, Mr. Langdon.”

[kill-the-feels]

Brings Me Close to You

a/n: I’m a sucker for a good trope, and I was feeling soft for the clones tonight, so enjoy some shameless Rex/mechanic!reader fluff.

word count: 1.3k

Mechanics, much like clones find sleep whenever it finds them. Or, at least, this is the conclusion you come to, as you wedge yourself in between a supply crate and a busted astromech.

The 501st has been campaigning for what feels like an eternity now, and still, there has been no real progress. It’s starting to wear on everyone, and it shows in the exchanges between men, ranging from snippy to downright cruel.

You get to deal with all this, as a civilian mechanic brought in to help cull the sheer number of repairs that are necessary in order to make another attempt at advancing. But even with the mechanically inclined clones pitching in, there is... a lot. Especially because people tend to get angry when things aren’t fixed. But droids and blasters are really only meant to last for so long, and you can only coax so many engines into working for just a little bit longer, so they’ll just have to get over it.

But hey, the pay is good (getting shot at means a pretty credit in hazard pay), and you get to see the galaxy.

Now if you can just catch a break. You close your eyes and listen to the light rain on the roof of the supply tent, enjoying the rhythmic sound. It’s a nice change up from the near-constant yelling and distance firefight sounds you’ve become used to.

“Hiding out, are we?” The voice jars you awake, right before you drift all the way off. Your eyes stay closed, but a smile curves your lips.

An additional bonus to going from a civil mechanic to one employed by the Republic was CT-7567, or Rex. The clone captain met you in the midst of a particularly tough offensive, when you resorted to actually begging the transport ship engine to hang in there. (And yes, it manifested in you singing under your breath about the joys of oil. It was a way to cope with stress, ok?)

It was a... memorable first impression to say the least.

Regardless, you must have done something right, because after that, you two ended up becoming what you would consider good friends.

And now here he stands, waiting on you to acknowledge his presence.

“You’re pestering,” you respond, shifting slightly and wedging yourself further back in an attempt to get more comfortable. Instead, your head bumps into the corner of the crate, eliciting a wince. Finally, you have no choice but to open your eyes and look up at him.

“And you’re hiding away while the rest of us work,” he says. There’s a gleam in his eyes that tells you he’s joking with you.

You register this directly after registering his appearance. There are dark emerges under his eyes, and a few days worth of stubble on his jaw. He’s soaking wet and making a puddle near your feet. His armor has seen better days; at this point more mud than anything else.

“Gross,” you whine. “Do you know how hard it was to find somewhere that wasn’t wet or muddy?”

“I can imagine.” His tone is acrid, and it sends you into a fit of laughter. A sure sign you’re exhausted. He props himself up on the crate, exaggerating his exasperated expression for your benefit.

You’re not exactly sure how or why this little friendship happened. Rex, at his core, is dedicated to fighting for the cause, something you had been quick to realize. He will never be one to be content with settling down. Having a family.

But maker, here he is, bantering and flirting with you in between all the fighting and surviving and giving you a look that makes you wonder.

“I just needed to catch a quick nap,” you say, suddenly desperate to steer your mind away from those lines of thought. “So I wouldn’t kill Fives.” Rex snorts, then moves to sit down beside you, bringing his muddy water with him.

“If that isn’t the summary of my life,” he mutters. You choke back another laugh, and he takes the opportunity to rub some of the water out of his short, blond hair.

“You’re getting me wet,” you complain when he rubs more vigorously than necessary, sending droplets flying all over you.

“Tough, kid.” You lean up enough to sock him in the shoulder, then wince when you hit the armor instead.

“I just wanted some quick shut eye, and instead, I’m sitting here being abused,” you gripe. “And don’t call me kid.” Rex leans back against the supply crate, tilting his chin up so his head is all the way back. His eyes close.

“So sleep,” he says, not bothering to look at you again. You watch him for a minute, then decide it cannot be a comfortable angle.

“Do you want to come back here with me? It’s a lot warmer, and you’re less likely to be spotted by well-meaning subordinates.” It’s out before you can really process what you just said.

Kriff. No, agh, you did not just suggest cuddling with Rex. It would be an innocent suggestion, except for him to “come back here” it means he’ll have to wedge in between the droid and crate and you. It’ll certainly be nice and cozy.

And while that’s not wholly unappealing to you, it makes things very, very awkward.

He tilts his head up, pinning you with an unreadable gaze. You can feel your cheeks heat, and you look away, fast, before he sees something you aren’t ready to let him see.

“Cross that. Don’t answer that,” you’re quick to say. “Just... go back to sleep.” He’s still quiet, and you wish you could just like, die, right here. Or maybe turn into one of the cute creatures that keeps getting underfoot. Or, y’know, die. You’re not picky.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he says finally, and it’s your turn to stare. Jaw stays closed, you remind yourself.

“I... O-ok.” He wriggles himself closer, and you realize it’s not going to be very comfy, because he’s still wearing wet armor which also happens to be very hard. Good for keeping men alive, bad for sleeping. (Read: cuddling.)

Rex seems to realize this at the same time you do, because his hands fly to the clasps, as if on instinct. He stops, then, and looks at you.

“I can leave it on if it will bother you. I’m used to sleeping in it.” It’s suddenly uncomfortably hot; wedged there in between the astromech and crate.

“I don’t fancy getting all wet and muddy,” you say after a beat, pretending to have a lot more bravado than you actually do.

The armor comes off.

Silence settles heavy in the tent, and you two just sort of look at each other.

“What if I-”

“How about we-”

The two of you speak at the same time, and you’re starting to question whether or not this whole thing is all worth it.

“You go first,” Rex says, even as you open your mouth to tell him to go first.

“What if you lie down,” you say slowly, “then I’ll use you as a pillow?” There’s a look that passes over his expression, and it’s gone in an instant, but it leaves you with a tingling feeling somewhere deep inside.

“Alright.” You move out of his way, and he settles himself down. Counting to three, you move forward, and end up curled into him, head resting on his chest.

This is a wonderful position, not only because it’s warm and soft, but also because now your misbehaving brain can’t get distracted by the way Rex looks in his form-fitting Republic-issued blacks.

You can hear his heartbeat. It’s a little fast, much like yours feels, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest.

It’s a heady feeling; this position. Intoxicating. Rex stays silent, and you force yourself to close your eyes.

“You make a good pillow,” you finally mumbled, nearly asleep. Rex laughs softly, and it stirs the hair on top of your head. You snuggle up closer, vaguely aware of Rex tightening his arms around you. The pleasant warm feeling spreads to all around you.

Hours later, when you wake up to the distant sound of the 501st calling for their leader, you’re forced out of the pleasant little cocoon, and back into the real world.

But the warm feeling stays, even when you venture back out into the rain.

[yukizakii]

ghosts ch. 1

They were both broken people. Broken people didn’t fix each other, as the pieces would never quite perfectly together. But they understood each other. They were able to see the beauty within one other of being incomplete. --

fall, 1870. The Boshin War is over. Yukimura Chizuru returns to her childhood home in Tokyo to learn how to live again. Nagakura Shinpachi has escaped with his life under a new name.

The world is cruel, but it works in mysterious ways to bring their paths together again.

(aka a hakuoki fanfic | shinpachi x chizuru centric; post hijikata bad end) 

xposted on AO3

— one.

“Ow!”

The clay of the teacup burned hot, much hotter than Chizuru had expected, and her fingers instinctively drew away from the heat. The cup slipped from her grasp and smashed into scattered shards onto the ground, the oolong tea that had once been contained forming little rivers in-between the cracks of the stone pavement. A few droplets beaded onto her kimono, but she quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand; she had washed all of her silks just yesterday, and she hardly wanted to have this one stain.

She sighed. It was probably her twentieth sigh of the day so far, and the sun had just barely moved into the sky. Every time she let out another heavy breath, she could almost hear Okita’s voice teasing her—What are you sighing for, Chizuru-chan? Don’t you know that I might have to kill you for looking so unhappy?

But he wasn’t here, and neither were any of her old friends.

Chizuru was alone, and lost.

Stop, Chizuru. Don’t think like that. Negativity was no stranger to her now. She could barely even go through the motions of her daily tea routine without thoughts and voices from the past lingering in the back of her mind.

Each morning she woke up to felt like night, a darkness shrouding over mind like the shadows of the weeping willows in Kyoto. Heavy as it was, she still forced herself to get up from her futon and face each day. She had to live, because as much as she sometimes wished that it was all but a dream, it was reality. She had to live, for those who didn’t.

You have to live, like they wanted you to.

She reached for the broken pieces of the clay cup, but a jagged piece slipped through her palm and slashed through the skin. Chizuru let out an instinctive gasp in pain and dropped the broken pottery again, watching as the blood welled from her hand and dripped over her arm. The bright red droplets struck her with a sense of deja vu, and suddenly she was transported back years before. There she was in front of the well at the Shinsengumi compound washing dishes when she had cut her finger in a similar way, and Heisuke, Heisuke-kun, had been confronted with his Rasetsu bloodlust for the first time.

But it didn’t just stop there. The sight and smell of her blood continued to reveal a torrent of memories that washed over her with a vivid brightness—memories that she had been trying to repress every day. That alley in Kyoto during a snowfall, the smell of blood and the high-pitched laughter of a monster in the air. The brilliant scarlet that seemed to flood the streets of Kyoto after Kinmon no Hen, mixed with the smell of smoke and ash from the fires.

That flowering cherry blossom tree in Hakodate, the spiderweb of blood across her hand transforming into a river that flowed into the ground from a man’s body.

“Look, Hijikata-san. It’s the Flag of Sincerity that everyone worked so hard to raise.”

—

She had no idea how long she stayed under that beautiful, cursed cherry blossom tree. Seconds, minutes, hours—time meant nothing to her anymore. The only thing that she knew of was that at that moment, he was gone. As the war raged on, Chizuru had felt herself becoming alarmingly numb to loss. She had become almost accustomed to seeing the dead lay on the ground through each city they trekked through, and the snippets of conversations she overheard no shook her like they used to. A hundred of our men, lost at Bonari Pass seemed like normal war talk now. But being surrounded by death and devastation didn’t make it any easier though. Losing her father, her friends, and her family had pierced through her heart, and she couldn’t think of a night that she hadn’t cried herself to sleep for the past few months.

Losing Heisuke and Sannan had broken her for days—she still felt partially responsible for the creation of the Ochimizu, and it pained her to know that she would never laugh with Heisuke again, or see Sannan’s cunning smile. Okita and Kondou had felt like some kind of sick joke from God, the two of them leaving this world in ways that were unfit for the two strongest warriors she knew. Harada, the man who had a spirit so loud and noble that somehow could make everyone smile, was now someone she would never hear from again. Every one of her friends’ deaths wrecked her heart open in ways that she didn’t know it could bleed. But losing him was different. She had held Hijikata’s body in her arms long after his eyes closed and the last traces of warmth left him, her tears dripping endlessly down her cheeks and onto his bloodied uniform.

She didn’t know what to do without him.

For the past five years, he had been a constant presence in her life. Chizuru had first come to depend on him for protection and stability; to the girl that had somehow landed into the Shinsengumi headquarters, Hijikata had been downright scary. His steely violet eyes seemed to read straight through her every time he caught her outside of her room, and she felt secondhand fear every time that she saw the way that he tolerated no sort of disobedience from his soldiers and punished those who strayed from the Shinsengumi’s code with injury or worse. But then as those first few months somehow stretched into years, Chizuru’s fear slowly faded and her days and memories began to fill with so many other emotions and experiences with Hijikata. Even though she spent her days with all of the different captains of the Shinsengumi, it was somehow always Hijikata that was by her side when she needed it the most.

Hijikata, who had shielded and fought against Kazama for her, his arm wrapped around her and her kodachi in the other. Hijikata, who was uncharacteristically fussy about his long, beautiful jet-black hair, and had yet allowed her to comb and tie it back while he had worked. Hijikata, who secretly wrote poetry with a smile on his face when no one was looking. Hijikata, who had taken her to a restaurant after a festival in Kyoto, and had paid for what was a surprisingly luxurious meal for what he had gruffly described as “just a thank you, you’ve been a big help”.

Hijikata, who had drank the Ochimizu that her father had created, and gave up his humanity to protect her from Kazama and to stand up for his values.

Their initial relationship as a page and superior had been awkward at best, and trust had been slow to develop. But after 5 years, the realization came to her so suddenly that she had almost fallen over herself: she was in deeply love with him. Her heart ached to always be near him and she loved to hear her name roll off his tongue—secretly, she thought that sounded more beautiful than she had ever heard it said. Chizuru had never had anything more than innocent crushes and dates when she had lived with Kodo in Edo, but her emotions and heart felt so strongly towards this person that she was certain that this was love, and a love that she knew would not come easily.

And of course it didn’t, because the man her heart had fallen in love with was like a force of a demon himself. Demon Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata Toshizou. Hijikata Toshizou, who was feared but adored by equally as many. Hijikata who was the talk of the town at times, with his long black hair that he refused to cut and high cheekbones that seemed to only accentuate his piercing gaze. Chizuru knew that he was a handsome man, some even saying he looked as if he had walked out of a wood-block painting, but she found more merit in the Hijikata she knew. His dedication, his resilience, his loyalty, and his love ran deeper than anyone else would ever know.

He had chosen her. And then he had left her.

Memories and concern for Hijikata filled her mind and thoughts endlessly for the months she stayed by herself alone in Sendai. She knew that he had left her in Sendai for her own safety; a young woman had no place in a war after all, but it was maddening. Chizuru knew she was no good on the battlefield and defenseless against a gun, but being left behind crushed her more than she could have ever imagined. She had no idea if she would ever see him again—dead or alive. What had happened to Kondou was something she very well knew could be something that could happen to Hijikata. But once she received the letter from Ootori, she had hastened to Ezo with her heart thudding in her chest with every thought that she was one step closer to seeing Hijikata again. No matter the hurt and pain that lay ahead of them, she knew that she had to be by his side.

And it had been so worth it. For a few months, despite knowing the pain and suffering that lay ahead of them, she had been happier than ever, just to be by his side. From the moment of their reunion, Chizuru was able to see his actions and words in so much more clarity. The bitter hoarseness in his voice when he yelled at his troops was not conveying anger, but worry to please come back alive. His scowl on his face when he worked long nights was not just because he was frustrated to shoulder this burden, but because he didn’t want anyone else to take the fall for the secret messages he was sending. He was the strongest person she had ever met, yet also the kindest and gentlest at the same time as well. In those few short months, Chizuru witnessed all sides of Hijikata and learned just how soft his hands could be on her hair, or the warmth of his embrace during the occasional nights that he did not work until dawn and allowed her to stay in the room with him.

If she could shoulder some of his pain and suffering, Chizuru had thought, then that was enough purpose for her to keep existing. If her blood was truly as powerful as Sanan and Kodo had alluded, then she would use it all and anything else in her power to keep him alive.

But he was gone, and she had failed. Maybe he would survived if she let him drink her dry, but Hijikata Toshizou was never the kind of person who would save himself at the expense of someone else. Makoto, he would say. Sincerity, which was the foundation for the Shinsengumi’s core beliefs. One had to be sincere and true to himself as a warrior and as a man to the end. Hijikata Toshizou had chosen his path. He chose to use his remaining life force to protect her from Kazama, and protect the beliefs that he had loved and carried for so long. He had died a warrior, and she knew that the Shinsengumi and all that he had fought for was finally at rest with him as well.

The two of them had known that this was a possibility from the start; the war was drawing to a close, and they were fighting a losing battle in Hakodate. Chizuru knew from the way Hijikata shook with anger and pain his sleep, or the scowl on his face every time he walked into the room from another meeting. She had always had some hope that maybe, just maybe, they would prevail and the two of them would find a future together.

But there was no place in this world for the two of them.

In a rush of scattered cherry blossoms, another individual had appeared under the tree—Amagiri. Polite as always, the red-haired demon he had greeted her with a formal bow before speaking. Since Kazama had strayed from the way of a demon and had continued to meddle with humans against his Clan warnings, he no longer could be laid to rest with his ancestors. Amagiri had come to bury Kazama’s body—and if Chizuru would like, Hijikata as well. How Amagiri knew that Kazama had died was some Demon logic that Chizuru knew was simply beyond her, but in that moment, she had been oddly relieved. Chizuru had always been a sensible girl, and even in times of crisis, she had a way of forcing herself to function. Even though burying Hijikata was exactly the last thing she wanted at that very moment, this was war. If they did not bury him now, his body would be discovered by troops and dragged out as a trophy to mark the fall of the Shinsengumi. She would have rather herself die than allow that to happen, but there was no way that she alone could have ever found the strength, physical and emotional, to bury him.

So she had let Amagiri dig two graves underneath that beautiful cherry blossom tree to lay both Kazama and Hijikata to rest. At Chizuru’s request, Amagiri dug Hijikata’s grave on the other side of the tree, away from Kazama’s; she knew that he would abhor being buried directly next to the demon he had spent years fighting. She took her final last glance at the man she had loved in the earth—his eyes closed, dark hair framing his face, swords crossed over his body, looking more peaceful and well-rested than she had ever seen him—and then turned away, unable to look as Amagiri completed the burial process.

Chizuru had been so consumed with grief that what happened afterwards was a blur. When she admitted she didn’t have an idea of her next move, Amagiri had simply stated, “It would be unwise to allow a woman to travel alone.” He had accompanied her to Hakodate, where she collected the rest of their personal belongings and relayed the news of Hijikata’s passing to Ootori. They then traveled to Yase, where Osen had been waiting; news of Kazama’s battle against a fake Demon had spread fast in the Demon world, and she had immediately sought to take Chizuru under the protection of the Yase Demon Clan. Chizuru had little memory of the months she spent in Yase; she only remembered grief and sorrow. News of the defeat of the Shogunate army and the rise of the Meiji Restoration flitted into

the Demon village over the next few months, but none of it meant anything to Chizuru. Hijikata was gone. Okita was gone. Heisuke, Sannan, Kondou, Harada…her life as she had known it, and all the people that had made it were gone. She heard nothing about Saito and Nagakura, but it hurt too much to hope. But after a few months of moping and living like a shell, Chizuru decided that she wanted to return to her home in Edo—well, Tokyo, now. She still had a home there, after all, and as kind as Osen and the demon clan of Yase was, it was not her home. So after six long years, Chizuru had finally returned to the old house that she had used to live with her father. Kodo, the man she had thought was her father. It had taken her almost a full two weeks to clean out all of the dust and vermin that had accumulated in the space over almost half a decade, but she had never been one to shy away from hard work. Rather, she had thrown herself into it, desperate for something, anything to do, to keep her mind busy and away from her thoughts. What quite honestly should have been work for two or three, she had completed in an astonishingly short time.

Chizuru had cleaned and changed the house to be more of a modest one fit to her needs; she had sold away most of their belongings, and kept only the essentials of what she needed. In this exchange and cleanup, Chizuru had dug out her women's clothes, but quickly found that many of her old kimonos in her closet no longer fit her—and well, of course they didn’t. She had last been a growing sixteen-year-old girl the last time she had worn them, and now she was a twenty-one year old woman. The hems that had once grazed her feet were now hanging above the ankles, and the silk was tight around her new curves and defined muscle she had developed after years of patrolling and running around Kyoto.

It was a strange and painful reminder that so much had changed.

Crafty as she was, Chizuru had loosened the seams and sewn together some of the cloth to create a couple of kimonos that fit her, so she could finally retire her pale peach hakamashita and hakama into storage. How strange for her to finally fold and lay those clothes away, although quite honestly she should have reduced them to rags. The silk had been patched and restitched over and over with years of wear and tear, but part of herself could not simply bear to toss that part of her life away. Instead, she had neatly folded it up and placed it into a box, next to her tattered Western military uniform. Her kodachi was racked on display in the bedroom, close enough to where she could grab it, but Chizuru sorely hoped that she would never need to touch that blade again.

But what was she doing here in Tokyo? What would she be doing, for the rest of her life? She had no idea. Chizuru knew that her existence and troubles as a female Demon did not end with Kazama’s death; Osen had been sure to warn her of it, and had strongly cautioned her against returning to Tokyo alone. But despite the lack of a clear direction in her future, and the dangers of traveling and living alone, Chizuru knew that she needed some sort of normalcy. She didn't want to think of Demons, of Rasetsu, of Ochimizu, of war and blood and death—she wanted to grieve alone, quietly, away from all that had pained her.

She was here, living and trying to bury her past life behind, but it always seemed to follow her.

She was just here. Existing, living. Drinking tea on her front porch, although her current cup was now smashed to smithereens and the tea was seeping into the hardwood. That painful memory hung heavily on her heart, and she wiped away tears from her face with her unbloodied hand, although the wound was already well on its way to healing. Maybe she would go into the town today to get some new teacups along with her daily groceries for meals; she still had a hard time stomaching food at times, but Chizuru knew she needed to keep her strength up. She wanted to start a garden in the back as well, to save her coin for fresh vegetables for when she needed it. Ootori had paid her well for her time and escape, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever. At some point, she would need to recoup her finances and find work to sustain herself.

But for today, she wanted to be normal. As normal as she could be.

Live, Chizuru.

I am living, Hijikata-san.

Chizuru stood up and stepped outside, tilting her head up to the sky. A slight breeze fanned across her face, and she inhaled the air deep into her lungs. Even though it was well into fall, she thought for the briefest moment, she smelled the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Maybe today would be a good day.

[anyu-blue]

~

Hey I'm rambling about stuff in my own head again. Trigger warnings apply- specifically those dealing with therapy, dysphoria, self harm, relationships, and stuff like that. :T

I don't really understand it... For quite a while there I was fine. Content even to just let things slide. I think it was because I felt secure where I was (with Lon) and blocked out a lot that doing therapy has brought screaming to the front of my mind... But I could be wrong and I feel confused and conflicted again.

At one point (before Lon) I had settled down when my previous therapist basically gave me permission to call myself androgynous. She told me it was okay- if that's what I felt, then I could use it.... I felt very relieved and much less ruffled. There was still a nag in the back of my head, but it was quiet enough I buried it... For the most part...

Getting with Lon brought quite a few forward and I insisted he understand I am/was not a girl. He also seemed content and sweet and more than accepting... Until he wasn't.. looking back.. Lon said a LOT of weird or off things he either never came through with or downright switched on.. especially near the end. EVERYONE in his family and friend group assumed and pushed the 'girl' thing... And that nag got a little louder..I pushed back (gently) reminding Lon with little things here and there that I wasn't... But still 'she' and overwhelming compliments on my feminity buried me under them. In the end... I know it was driving me crazy (literally) and probably Contributed more to the mess than I understood at the time.

But it also wasn't a push even.. just the assumption.. I believe that because right now my hackles are raised so high every time someone says 'she' to or about me I BRISTLE. I want to yell or (depending on who it is) quietly tell whomever is doing it to stop.. tell them they're wrong... Most aren't doing it maliciously, I know.. it's just what they see. I feel pressured or pushed. It's really weird and extremely uncomfortable. It's confusing too because.. I don't know... I can't see how they don't see me as different than 'girl'... Or heaven forbid 'WOMAN.'

*shudders*

My therapist and I are exploring the feelings around when these things are said to me... And she's proposed doing something about my anger and frustration like squeezing Something or something or just outright accepting it... Basically ANYTHING other than telling people my business... But the problem is, I've told her... I want to BREAK things.. I mean I don't... But I feel the urge to. To hit. To yell. To scream. To cry. To crush. To run. But I don't. In some ways I can't.... Squeezing Something when I'm angry hurts me. My grip is incredibly weak (always has been no matter what I've tried) and everything pops painfully. Or it pinches my skin and hurts... So I've developed a reflex to do the opposite of squeeze or hit things (which certainly hasn't helped the weakness issue lol)... And even if I do try to do those things.... It's never enough. I can't go and go and go like I want to. It just makes me madder. More frustrated. It's never satisfying or as releasing as People tell me it should feel. I just want more. And more and more and more. And in the end I'm usually left a sobbing mess that's completely spent, but still so mad and frustrated... Feeling those feelings even more. Sure I'm tired enough to pass out.. but I wake up.. and everything is still there.. usually coupled with depression because it's STILL THERE... And I couldn't get it out. I don't feel better or lighter or more free.. I feel heavier.. sadder... Worse. I used all that energy and nothing came of it.

And I don't understand!! I really don't. Why I'm never satisfied... Why I've always always been so angry... I was told I was an extremely cruel child.. I remember a little too.. I always wanted to act, but was pushed down.. and even when I did, it never felt good or like it was enough.. I swear I could tear an entire house down by myself with nothing but my own two hands and I STILL would want to do more.

...

And I'm feeling all of these things with gender...

Tevs said to me she thinks I 'want to be a boy because our mother always wanted a boy and [I] always wanted her approval.' ... I can't deny that MAYBE it had an influence on me. MAYBE...

But... I don't WANT that witch's approval anymore. I don't care about her distain either. I don't want her ANYWHERE NEAR my life, it's MINE not hers.. and I'm really pissed off no one can seem to take the damn hint I am 110% DONE with her and anything to do with her. She HAS a son to raise now. And a loving husband who had her adopt him. And good friends and whatever else she has in her life. I am OUT of it. And I want to be out of it forever.

.. it feels demeaning when Tevs says that it's all from that to me.. she's done it more than once, and of course I'm upset by it every time.

... I just want to be me... And every time someone looks at me and tells me I am beautiful.. or pretty.. or a wonderful woman... I just want to cry... To go hide.. I feel so ashamed.

...

Here's the thing.. I AM attractive. I AM beautiful, hot, resilient, kind... Just about everything you'd associate a woman with... I was walking to another area in my workplace just tonight and caught a glimpse of myself as I did so in our big windows... The way I walk. My silhouette. Everything about me... Is envious.

I'm not saying these things because I'm vain.. I'm saying them because if I compare my body and gait and everything to the People alongside me- even the guests I see coming in- I can see it as clearly as everyone else who tells me I'm this pretty thing does... I'm not sickeningly skinny and I'm not fat. I'm not super tall nor short. I'm right in the middle with an ass and legs People tell me they'd kill to have... If I were to wear proper bras, I have a chest they'd love too- not too heavy and not unnoticeably small... But I wear ones that squish my chest so it looks like I have less (and that might be why I have such glaring problems with my ribcage sliding out of place all the time. I'm crushing everything XP).. take a guess as to why I started doing that...

I can't hide my hips... Nor my legs... I've got cute feet too. And hands... So dainty and fine- just enough bone and plump in the right places... It's no wonder I am the envy of my poor (adopted) cousin desperate to be a model and a star.. poor girl. She's beautiful in her own right, but her genes have made it so hard for her to fully dive into her confidence... My dad told me we are rivals and have always been... And my heart breaks for her because I'm not even trying... I want her to succeed!! To be the one in the spotlight!! I want to stay in the background so she can shine... But I always get pulled forward and somehow she's in my shadow (despite being taller than me).. and she can't stand to be near me.. even when I am trying my hardest to let her lead or to say things kindly or in her favor.. I can't seem to win... So I don't really have a relationship with her at all.. Though I really wanted to.

When I don't hide.. when I do 'dress up'... There's so many compliments. If I run into ANYONE from school when I do... *Gags* the compliments, disbelief, and shock... I remember EVERY prom... People not knowing who I was... Or being shocked if they did recognize me straight out. All 4 years... And it made the ostracization worse. My class was AFRAID of me. I was this shy/frumpy (also angry) little thing.. but I still remember being stared at changing after gym whenever there wasn't a stall for me to hide in.. I personally at the time thought it was because I was so ugly/fat they couldn't help themselves... Going through everything in therapy.. I realize it was because I was so skinny under all my baggy clothes.. and really pretty under the acne/hood/ugly glasses. I wasn't bullied just because I was smart/loved to learn... I was a threat and didn't even know it. The envy of my peers. And it's so sad.

I did wish to be like them.. so confident. So able to fake it. To do my makeup and wear cute things and to feel right somehow... But I never did. I tried.. but couldn't stand the clothes.. or the comments about my ass... Or all the things they focused on whenever I came close to succeeding. I couldn't seem to get it right. I just wanted to hide whenever I stood out... It never felt right.

It got to the point I was AFRAID to wear dresses and skirts. Terrified. Everything felt wrong with the world when I did. I felt like I was faking Something. Like I was purposefully being awful... Lying..

I wear some now because I was cheered up by the idea of genderqueer people and some men finding comfort in wearing them and in some ways them becoming more acceptable by all genders... Plus they're reeeally comfy sometimes. And it's nice to just be able to throw on a dress with built in pads during the summer heat wave than to worry about all those damn layers XP ... And I recognize that no one is going to question me or think I'm lying when I wear any... They don't see what I have in my head.

I do recognize that some of this stuff has trauma tied to it... And I'm confused because I don't know where the trauma ends and I (my own genuine thoughts) begin... I was not treated kindly at home- even outright being called ugly in a derogatory manner.. granted I now know those comments mostly came from a pedophile disinterested in me and the pedophile's own manipulation of my mother and her family's opinions (gaslighting and twisting to where I really was the horrible child in all ways) AND I know that I am not neurotypical which caused some other unfortunate treatments in and around my home.

I don't know where to go with it... Or why I'm so viscously against being called a girl or a woman. Why it's setting me off so bad right now. I just know that it is... And for some reason every time I'm alone or not really thinking of it... I don't think of myself as one. Not at all. And when I'm reminded.. I'm often startled by it and confused and need to process the information for a second... Despite 'being' one for all of my life... I've continually had the problem I don't expect what I see in the mirror either.. especially since puberty.

If I could show you what I think/feel most of the time... I think this would be the closest I could get- just make the chest straighter/flatter... It bugged me to no end to add that detail in and still does to this day, but I was going off the model (me lol). I don't feel like Anything... But I want to be something.. and that Something is... Not this. Not this...

But where do I go? What do I do?

I'm terrified of surgeries... I don't want massive scars (not that I mind scars- in fact I LOVE them. They're so cool!! But I don't want people to KNOW you know? Not that. Not Something that is such a private matter... I don't want to believe or go after something for it to be wrong too... And I don't feel I can afford any of it anyway 😞 even if I did want to try or actually found the right one... I would be so depressed to never be able to reach my goal.. and I feel I've held myself back due to that fear too...

I know another reason I haven't tried anything or spoken up or anything is because I have this strange desire to pass on my genetic legacy. It is such a powerful urge I am TERRIFIED of losing the ability... People tell me about adoption all the time as a great option, and it IS a great option for the children... Because I would do ANYTHING for my own... But it's this terrible terrible feeling I wouldn't feel I could claim them as my own and it would leave something still empty inside of me and I wouldn't be as loving because of it and that kills me... It sounds terrible too!!

I would do almost anything to have my own child... When it comes to pain tolerance or body changes I know I would have the hardest time than most if I were to get knocked up.. but I have that thought that it would be worth it because they are MINE.

I've thought about egg donation.. because I feel it would make me feel better to know I succeeded in passing on the line to someone better off and worthy of having children... But I feel I have too many genetic issues or would be an undesirable candidate or I'd feel terrible if the child died and then I didn't succeed...

Lol I think of things oddly... And that makes me think I don't deserve to have children or donate too... Never mind the actual process XP boy... Complicated~

So I've never tried... I am also quite poor and know I would struggle to raise a child. Even just one. And if I were to have twins (as I'm the generation that is supposed to)... I have even more worries... And I don't want a child or children to grow up with the struggles I had or worse than I had like they likely would if I just went for it.

...

I knew I felt more sure when I was with Lon because he apparently wanted/wants kids too... And it was in the plan (Maybe. Maybe not. It's possible he was the one messing with my medication alarms and trying, but also possible he just wanted sex... Because he told me before he left that he thought he was infertile for a long time (and there's some pretty strong evidence to suggest he's got weak swimmers lol but I'm not going to divulge what that stuff is) so it may have been a lie all along... But I didn't know and felt assured and safe with that path at the time)...

*sigh*

Idk what to do... I know I'm messed up about it all.. and I know my knee jerks and feelings... But I don't exactly trust myself or my memory or my reasons... I am only human... And I feel so lost.

I know what I envy... Very much.. and what I would choose if I could... But... Life just doesn't work that way... And science is so stunted it likely won't in my lifetime.

*snort*

I feel the worst thing that my dad ever said to me was when I told him and his wife that I wasn't a girl... I don't remember if I told them I was neither or would prefer to be a guy... But I do remember my dad's response... He told me 'go ahead and you do you, but I want you to know that no matter what, you're always going to be my little girl. I just can't think of you any other way, because you are. You're my little girl.'

And I just... It struck me so badly (obviously, I still think about it)... And made my heart so heavy. I... Understand... To the extent I can... And I don't want to... Lose him because I can't accept that... But.. I feel like it's only pushed me to lose myself... To.. just stay. Take the 'easy' route. To 'accept' it (except we can see how well THAT'S going).

*sigh*

I don't know...

The only thing I do know right now is I have this fantasy about... Going away for a while. More or less disappearing for 5 to 10 years... And coming back... How I want to be/see myself... And seeing what everyone would think...

Tevs thinks I only want it because of trauma. Dad thinks I'm always going to be his daughter. Everyone else is so sure I am a woman...

And maybe they're right... (I mean TECHNICALLY lol I can't exactly argue with that 😂)... And I would be trying to let my 'good looks' and all that 'go to waste'...

...

If I could trade someone... 100%... I would. I'm a pretty/beautiful/attractive looking body... (My face is debatable lol but whatever)... I wonder how come am I not happy about it...

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   23

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Sweetheart opens up about her past to show Sans that she's not afraid of him.

A/N: So, I debated back and forth on whether I should give the details of Sweetheart's past (why she flinches) in a flashback, or be nice and just have her talk about it... Yeah... I'm not nice... I did safety, though. ~~~~ at the beginning and end, and safe summary at the end..

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Fear of the past.

Sans woke up in the hall, pinned to the floor, his skull pounding. 

The bright light filling the hall made his skull hurt worse. He groaned as he tried to get up, but couldn’t. 

His eyelights darting to see what had him held down, he saw his brother’s long legs resting on him, keeping him on the ground. 

“GOOD MORNING, MORON,” Papyrus greeted from behind a book about puzzles and traps. 

“ugh,” he groaned. “uh, hey, boss…” 

He let his eyelights roam over the hall and tried to remember what had happened. 

Why the hell had he fallen asleep in the hall? And why the hell did his brother have his legs kicked up on him like a stool instead of yelling at him for being lazy and not going on his rounds? 

Where was his soft, cute little Sweet- 

The memory of (Y/n)’s beautiful eyes staring up at him, full of fear flashed in his mind. 

“sweetheart!” He cried out, trying to get out from under Papyrus’ legs, but his brother slammed him back to the floor. “bro! i-is sweetheart ok?!” Sans begged. 

“STRANGE HOW YOU WORRY ABOUT THAT NOW,” Papyrus commented uninterestedly. 

“bro- p-please-” 

His brother’s eyelights met his, and Sans felt the weight lift from his ribs as he closed his book. 

“IF YOU FUCK THIS UP, SHE WILL LIKELY HATE YOU FOREVER. SO. NO PRESSURE, OR ANYTHING,” Papyrus told him before turning and going downstairs to give them a moment. 

Now that there were no obstacles, Sans was just standing in front of the door staring at it. 

He took a deep inhale and let it out, his hand going to touch his smokes, but not taking them out of his pocket. 

He could really use a smoke right now, the release of the tension it would bring, along with the excuse to put this off- 

Sans lifted his hand away from his pocket and opened the door, cautiously looking around to see (Y/n) on his brother’s bed, looking like she’d had a restless night. 

“s-sweetheart,” he softly called, tentatively stepping farther into the room. “sweetheart, ya- ya ok?” 

(Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open and looked at him, looking slightly hollow, but also like they had big enough bags to carry a month’s worth of groceries. 

“oh, stars, sweetheart,” he murmured, cautiously getting closer to her, like she was a frightened animal that would bolt if he got too close too fast. “nah- nah, i see ya ain’t… d-doll… sw-sweetheart… ‘m so sorry… i didn’t mean fer any a that ta happen… i was only…” He paused as he tried to remember what exactly had happened. “i was… drunk, an'... flirtin’ wit ya… that’s what i remember, ‘nyway… an’ then ya… started shakin’...” His voice was getting softer, like he was losing the will to speak. 

(Y/n) continued to stare at him, uncertain, and carefully watching for any signs that she shouldn’t trust him. 

Sans’ shoe scuffed the floor, and he watched as the carpet fibers moved. “i jus’… sw-sweetheart… d’ya even like me?” He asked on a breath. 

“What?” She gulped in shock. 

“d’ya even like me,” he repeated, his skull flushed a little darker, voice a little louder. “d’ya even like bein’ ‘round me?” 

“Of course I do… Why would you think I don’t?” She asked, perplexed. 

“ya flinch any time i get close ta ya, doesn’t even have ta be very close- just enough fer m’shadow ta fall on ya… an’ every time i touch ya… ya flinch like i dunked ya in th’ snow…” 

“Sans,” (Y/n) whispered, surprised, but feeling her heart twist that he thought she didn’t even like him when she was- 

… 

Having certain feelings for him… 

“Sans, I- I flinch, but that’s not because of you…” She tried to reassure him, but he didn’t look swayed. 

“S- ...Sans…” Her voice had dropped to barely audible. “You- you’re not the reason I flinch… I… I just flinch… I promise…” 

His eyelights slowly moved up to meet her eyes. “can... can ya… prove… it?” 

He wanted proof, something tangible that he could hold onto and shove in the face of that thought any time it surfaced telling him she was only placating him. 

He wanted to believe her. 

He wanted… 

He wanted her to want to be with him… on her own… 

(Y/n)’s eyes drifted to the floor, and Sans felt his soul ache. 

Was she saying that she couldn’t? That there was no proof she’d want to be with him? 

“Y-yeah… Yeah. I can,” she answered. 

She put her hands on her chest and lifted her elbows. One went nearly to her ear, like it would be if she was using it as a pillow while sleeping. The other… almost reached straight out, but didn’t quite. 

“It’s… the same reason I haven’t taken my shirt off in front of you…” Her hand went to the sleeve of the shirt and she managed to pull it out of the way, showing off a deep scar. It wasn’t long, or wide, but it was a bit jagged, and there were a peppering of smaller scars around it, including ones that would have been for the stitches.

It was situated just so that it was easy to cover with a shirt sleeve, even if it was a tank top, and the smaller scars were barely even visible. He'd probably seen them and just not noticed that they were scars- or just thought nothing of them; scars were common among monsters. Papyrus had scars over his eye socket, and Sans had many, many over his ribs, a few around his skull, and a few more on his tibias. 

Sans felt his soul twist again. “sw-sweetheart, what happened?” He asked urgently, even though the event that had caused the scars had obviously happened a long while ago. 

“Well… let’s just say I’ve had bad taste in men in the past… my last boyfriend, in particular…” 

Sans’ jaw clenched. He could feel that he was going to have a great time paying someone a visit in the not too distant future… 

“We met in school, senior year. It was the normal dating stuff, he was nice, funny, charming… until he wasn’t.” 

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

It had been months since (Y/n) had gone out, all of her time instead being used sitting at home, cleaning, making things… not talking to her friends, family, or anyone… 

She wasn’t sure when it had begun, when she’d been so far removed from everyone, but when her only contact was now her boyfriend, who had gotten her fired from three jobs in the past year, just because there were other people there that she talked to, any trip out to see anyone seemed exciting. 

Of course, he'd never admit that her socializing with others was the reason he'd gotten her fired, but that’s what it boiled down to. 

It was hard for her to even get a job anymore, so she’d had to stop looking, at his insistence, of course. “Why look, you’re only going to get fired in a couple of months, anyway.” 

She wanted so badly to yell in his face, “yes; because you keep fucking around and getting me fired!” Calling the cops to pick her up for shoplifting at the store she worked at, calling her boss and “letting them know” or straight out reporting that she was high off her ass on drugs, no matter how many times she came back clean, putting in so many anonymous complaints that the company was overwhelmed and couldn’t handle it, to just downright stalking by sitting next to her her entire shift, refusing to leave, telling her all sorts of cruel things in between customers. 

She felt like a little bit more of her was breaking every day. 

It felt like it had gotten easier after she had finally agreed to not get another job; she didn’t have to keep hiding the bruises, or field dangerous questions about where they came from, or why she couldn’t sit comfortably sometimes… 

(Y/n) looked out the window of the car, watching trees flying past the windows. 

“Hey. (Y/n). Look at me.” 

She obeyed, trained well, her chin tucked down, eyes carefully watching his shoulders, but not rising above his collar. 

“Remember, you stupid little slut, you belong to me.” His voice had an edge to it, a forcefulness that belied the neutral tone of his voice. “Your body is mine to whore out as I see fit, not yours to get dirty and full of diseases. If you so much as wink at another man, you’ll be sorry.” 

She’d swear she could feel her heart shattering, her soul straining under the weight of keeping her alive, attempting to shatter as well. 

But it refused. 

“Do you understand?” She nodded in compliance, but it wasn’t enough for him. “I asked,” he started, grabbing her face and shaking it. “Do you fucking understand, you stupid little whore?” 

“Y-yes-” 

“I have coworkers there that would love to get a shot at you, you know- they’d pay, too. I could always use a few more bucks in my pocket,” he told her threateningly, still squeezing her face. “Might actually earn your keep,” he spat, snapping his wrist to flick her face away. “Fix yourself, you look cheap.” 

They arrived at the party and parked in the large driveway in a line of other employees' cars. 

The party was at her boyfriend’s boss’ house, a large home with a huge backyard. It was large enough that there was space to mingle and have private conversations away from others, despite there being at least fifty people in the yard. 

"Hello! Welcome!" His boss greeted, giving a handshake and pat on the shoulder to her boyfriend, and a genuinely friendly smile to her. "Ah! And you must be the girlfriend!" He took her hand, lifting it to softly bump it against his cheek instead of kissing it, but it still made her uncomfortable. 

Was this considered flirting? She wasn't doing it. She wasn't participating. He couldn't put this on her, could he? 

Of course he could. He'd find a way. 

(Y/n)'s hand absently went to her top, checking that a bruise was covered. He'd be so angry if she tried to say anything, if anything happened to make his boss think even slightly less of him. 

She gave a light laugh as the others in the group did, but she didn't know what they were talking about, her anxious mind running a million miles a minute to make sure she took every step to keep the secret hidden. 

After a drink or two, her boyfriend excused himself and went to "meet with a coworker." 

(Y/n) wasn't stupid; she knew that he'd gone to go fuck one of his coworkers in the bathroom or somewhere. She'd even seen the one he'd gone off with, he wasn't subtle, he didn't try to be; he wanted to hurt her. 

The joke was on him, though. She was glad he went off, and mentally sent his coworker a thank you. 

Her heart rate slowed down the moment he'd gone off, her muscles relaxing. She was left alone, unsupervised, with people. Strangers, yes, but people that weren't him. 

It was like for the first time in months she could feel the way the soft breeze brushed across her skin, and could enjoy it. 

(Y/n) let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing and her smile becoming more genuine. 

"So! We've only heard a bit about you, but you know-" the speaker cut themselves off with a chuckle, "of course you do, he's your boyfriend, after all!" The boss' wife had come over and started talking to her, being a good hostess and trying to make her feel welcome. 

It was nice, wonderful, amazing! It had been so long since she'd had a full conversation! 

The friendly woman was good company, and eventually, her husband came over to check on her, ending up joining the conversation, telling stories about trips they had taken, interesting things they'd done. 

(Y/n) looked across the yard to where the table with drinks was, and her smile instantly fell as her muscles tense back up, her blood draining from her face. 

How long had he been standing there, watching them? It was long enough that he had a displeased glare pointed at her. 

(Y/n) turned back and excused herself. 

It was just conversation, just waiting for him to get down screwing anything that'd let him… 

It was just… 

He remained civil and even charming for the rest of the party, of course he could do that easily; how else would he have been able to trick her into thinking he was a good person until it was too late, and she was already tangled irreversibly. 

It wasn't until they'd started down the driveway that the eerie silence set in, followed by the fear of what he was going to do. 

"Why do you always act like such a slut?" He demanded, disgust dripping from his lips. 

Says the man sneaking off to fuck a coworker in his boss' house, she thought. 

"I saw the way you were throwing yourself at my boss," he accused. 

If by throwing myself at him you mean having a pleasant conversation for once in the last few months… 

(Y/n)'s teeth clicked as her head was snapped to the side at a sudden, unexpected impact. 

"I'm speaking to you, bitch, listen to me! Or I'll knock you one again!" He raised his fist threateningly, and she mumbled an apology. 

The fight that ensued was more of the same toxic bullshit that he'd been pulling on her for a while. 

He'd yell at her, make her the bad guy, like he was some victim of her horrible actions, threaten to hurt her to make her feel how he felt, threaten to hurt himself so she could see what she was responsible for, her all the while trying to talk him down and keep herself from crying, which only ever resulted in more punishment and him accusing her of acting like a victim- the only difference this time, is that he seemed to get a new idea for tormenting her. 

(Y/n) felt her nerves stretched as far as she could handle, practically feeling them fraying. She didn't know how much more she could take of this. She might die from the stress before she'd ever find a way out. 

"If… if I cause you so much pain… m-maybe… maybe we should think about-" 

She was cut off as the car sped up, definitely faster than what the speed limit was on this road. 

"Are you really about to suggest leaving me?" He demanded. 

The car was going so fast the trees were a blur. 

"Wh- what are y-you doing? P-please- please," her voice was starting to tremble, her fear rising in her chest. 

"Now you're questioning me? You ungrateful little bitch! You know how I feel about you questioning me!" 

Had the car sped up even more? Had he even taken his foot from the floor? Panic was rising in her chest now, making it hard to breathe. 

"P-please s-slow down," she begged. "W-we're going too fast…!" 

There was a click and (Y/n) felt her seatbelt loosen around her. 

She instantly reached down and buckled it again, pleading with him to stop, to think about it, appealing that he didn't want the cops to get involved. 

But he just raged that she was stupid, ungrateful, that she'd never leave him, that she wasn't even worth him… On and on, over and over, as he fought to unbuckle her seatbelt again and again, swerving the car threatening to run off the road. 

(Y/n) was panicking, terrified for her life, praying to any and every deity she remembered ever hearing about, fighting his hands to keep her seatbelt buckled, begging and pleading for him to stop. 

She didn't remember any of the words that had come out of their mouths, the last words she'd hear him speak, it was too loud, everything was too loud. The air around the speeding car, the engine revving as the gas pedal was still jammed against the floorboard of the car, the yelling in the car, her breath, her blood pounding through her veins, her heartbeat hammering in her head. 

The fear was bringing everything in, closing in around her, flashes of the outside world through the window, somehow there, but not actually existing, the asshole next to her, intent on her seatbelt being off and fighting to keep it that way. 

The fear and desperation making everything seem more intense. 

A jerk and squeal as the car left the road, bumps of uneven terrain as it plowed along. 

He spat rage at her, she thought she heard something about killing her and punishment as he managed to unbuckle her seatbelt again. 

Everything seemed to slow down, her hand grabbing for the safety of the belt, missing. 

Her attention was locked on the huge tree in front of them. 

She couldn't look away. 

She couldn't move. 

Everything was suddenly silent. The windshield had suddenly shattered and was flying toward her. 

(Y/n) closed her eyes tight to avoid getting glass in them, letting her body go soft, knowing a fall hurt less when you had less tension in your muscles. 

Everything in the car was flung forward, including (Y/n). 

Her arm caught on the seatbelt still around one shoulder, holding and yanking her back as the rest of her tried to continue forward. 

Pain shot through her, with multiple points of origin. 

She hurt… 

It was too much. 

Darkness swallowed her. 

. 

(Y/n) was in pain. There was so much pain. Her shoulder, her other forearm, her head, her legs, her body- mostly her shoulder, but everything hurt. 

There was some god awful buzzing that she couldn’t place, though it seemed familiar. 

Everything was dark. 

Her eyes were closed. That made sense why it was so dark. 

Reality snapped back into place. 

He’d knocked her unconscious again. 

He must have been really pissed off to hit her hard enough she couldn’t remember falling. 

She had to get up, or he was going to kill her this time. She hurt so bad, she was sure it was true; something was very, very wrong with her shoulder already. 

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped open and she was disoriented. 

She was in a car- why was she in a car?! What happened?! 

Her eyes flew around, finding her boyfriend in the driver’s seat next to her. 

Panic filled her and she moved to get away, but was so overwhelmed with pain that she almost blacked out again. 

He was going to be so mad. He was going to blame this all on her… She had to get away! She didn’t know what she could do, but she had to try to do something! 

Her eyes darted over to him, seeing that his neck was at an uncomfortable angle, his chest seeming to puff out a bit around the seatbelt across it. 

The door beside her was wrenched open, startling her, and she looked away choking down her cry of pain as she jostled her shoulder. 

After an ambulance ride, she was sent through a bunch of machines, and rushed into surgery to reconstruct her shoulder, placing pins and things, stitching, casting… 

She had to talk to police, but they thought her story was a bit farfetched. 

She was so afraid that any moment, he was going to walk in, drag her home, and punish her for speaking to the police. 

And then she finally got news of what had happened to him… when she was asked to come downstairs and identify the body. 

He had tried to punish her by crashing into a tree on purpose- maybe kill her, with how he kept taking her seatbelt off- but he was the one that had died. 

(Y/n) felt as though a weight lifted off of her the moment she checked that he was really dead, fearing for a moment that he’d suddenly get up off the table. 

He didn’t. 

She was free. 

Air came into her lungs easier. Her muscles didn’t ache from being so tight. 

She… 

She was free. 

(Y/n) packed her things, sold everything that was his, got enough money to start again in some city where no one knew her, found a job and a shitty apartment in not the best neighborhood. 

But it was hers. 

She was free to choose it, and she was in charge of it. 

She was out from under his thumb. 

It took a year to be able to sleep properly, to be a mostly functioning member of society, but she did it, reminded at every step that he wasn’t there, and never would be again. 

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

Sans stood in shock, eyelights gone, not moving. 

Someone had done that to his sweetheart? 

And he wasn’t going to be able to punish them? 

He wished he had the power to reach into hell and take that scum out for a real round of torture. 

“S-Sans? Are you ok?” 

Her soft voice brought him back to Papyrus’ room. 

“y-yeah, i’m good, sweetheart, jus’- …” His eyelights returned and he stepped forward. “‘m sorry, sweetheart- wish i coulda got th’ guy-” His arms reached out for her, wanting to have her close against him and protected. 

But she flinched. 

Sans’ arms slowly dropped. 

“ya… ya can’t even look at me, can ya?” 

Her eyes lifted from his shoes, where they’d settled. “Huh?” 

“ya- ya think imma do th’ same thing?” 

She was silent, eyebrow pinched as she looked at him in question. 

“ya do, don’t ya…” He clenched his fists. “ya think imma do th’ same shit that asshole did ta ya!” Sans stumbled back, a growl building in his chest, trying to hide the sound of his soul cracking. “ya think that jus’ ‘cause imma monster, imma hurt ya?” He demanded. 

“Sans- that’s not at all what-” 

But he wouldn’t listen. 

“i don’t gotta put up wit this shit,” he growled and turned, storming out of the room, down the stairs, past his brother, and out the front door. 

A/N: Safe summary: Sweetheart's ex was an abusive prick who'd isolated her and physically, emotionally, and verbally (and implied sexually) abused her. They went to a party, his boss spoke to her, he got jealous, and during a fight on the way home, decided to purposely crash the car into a tree, and unlatched her seatbelt, trying to at least severely hurt her, if not kill her. He died instead, and she needed reconstructive surgery on her shoulder. With him dead, she moved away and started a new life.

[gayllamafromspace]

Embrace Your Chaos

(Tissaia De Vries/Reader)

Chapter 7: It's HIGH Time We Made A Friend

It's been weeks since I had last spoken to Tissaia, or rather, since she had spoken to me. I can't say I expected any less. It had become apparent that after our 4 days together, she wanted nothing to do with me. Nothing can be done about that, and nothing will be. She has chosen to still resent me for my mistake, and I don't blame her. So, I avoided her too, as I am now… sitting alone in the dining hall. When I say I'm avoiding her, what I really mean is that I am sitting alone at the table closest to the hall's door. And watching her, can't forget that detail. Not in a creepy way! I'm just occasionally observing what's going on with the other 7 girls. Which, I'd learned their names, through a very embarrassing lesson from the Rectoress. The lesson itself was meant to have been taught on the first day, but the rectoress decided to postpone. The Rectoress's decision to do so made the other girls very irritated with me. To say the least.

There is of course Tissaia, who I am all too familiar with. She was one of the 4 that was actually capable of lifting the rock, while using the flower as a conduit. I had been tempted to make a snarky comment about our time together not being entirely useless, but I decided against it. She hates me enough as it is, I don't think damaging her precious ego would do much good. One of the other girls, who took longer, but was quick to follow mine and Tissaia's lead, is named Margarita. She has lovely blonde hair, and strikingly blue eyes, almost the same shade as Tissaia's, but not nearly as beautiful… is what I would say, if me and said blue eyed brunette weren't currently at odds. Have I made my point? I'm pretty sure I have. Anyways, Margarita - or as she prefers to be called - Rita, is a very interesting character. She clearly has no shame, and somehow she's managed not to make all of the girls hate her. Despite her garish and quite childish behavior. She is actually one of the only girls that hasn't decided that I am a bane of the earth, which I am grateful for.

Roan, with her pale yellowish skin and who's hair is straighter than the stick up Tissaia's ass, has a very unfortunate case of air headedness. She cannot take hints for the life of her, and it is almost intriguing the amount of idiotic blabbering that can come from her before Annita (another one of the girls) covers her mouth. Annita, as previously mentioned, is the sound control of the group over yonder. Her skin is a lovely shade of chocolatey brown, and I would find her effortlessly attractive if it wasn't for her tendency to make the most overly expressive and revolving faces on the continent. Her smile is too wide and very clearly forced, her lips peel back from her teeth a horrifying amount when she does. She has some semblance of intelligence, but her constant need to sneer and wrinkle her nose at the mere sight of me is ridiculous. She does have pretty eyes though, a nice hazel color, leaning more toward brown than green. Her hair is short, nearly to her scalp, and it's black like Roan's.

Then there's Sanota and Veblen. Sanota has auburn hair and brown eyes, her features are soft and round, but her personality is the complete opposite. She's a bitch, from the way she walks to the way she talks, it just screams, "I thrive off of the tears of children." I had attempted to help her during the rock lifting lesson, but she was having none of it. As a result, a few of her fingers withered and died on her left hand. It was truly horrifying. Her once pale skin had turned a disgusting murky gray and black, and I don't think she'll ever be able to use those fingers again. The point is though, she is so rude and unaccepting of help from anyone, that it's self-destructive. Quite literally. I would almost feel bad for her, if she wasn't so cruel to me, and poor Veblen.

She is younger than me by about 2 years, being around 14. She is actually a very sweet girl, she's quiet and respectful. But she worships the ground that Sanota walks on. Sanota is very rude to her, calls her names, pushes her around. Veblen had actually tried to talk to me once and Sonata was quick to grab her by her light brown hair and drag her away. The girl was on the verge of tears. But with Sanota's cruelty, she also gets protection. From what? Well, that would be from Tissaia's annoyance, Rita's bad habits, Roan's idiotic choices of coversation, and Annita's terrifying facial expressions. To Veblen, Sonata is a new older sister and guardian angel - obviously - to literally anybody else, Sanota is using her for menial tasks and as a servant. It's infuriating, but I can understand why. The Rectoress gives us a LOT of pointless work and stuff that really could be avoided, but the rest of us suck it up and just do it. Not push it on a weaker, easily manipulated, child. Well… she's not a child, but my point still stands!

Finally, there's Lida. Lida is huge, I mean, HUGE. She's around five foot ten and her body is just muscle. If it weren't for her shoulder length blonde hair and shockingly feminine voice, I would think she was some sort of unisex goddess. She has been surprisingly open about her life, she was raised on a farm and her mother died before she could bear any sons. Her father was so in love with his deceased wife that he couldn't remarry and try for one, so he raised his daughter like he would have raised his son. The result is mouth wateringly delicious, but she's not really my type. Very attractive in her own right, but just not for me. Maybe if I get on her good side, she could help me get a little more fit? Highly unlikely. She's a follower, and as a follower, she's going to follow the rest of the girls in hating me. Which, I don't really care anymore, I've got me.

It's lonely, I can pretend all I like, but it sucks. The only person who's actually bothered to spend the faintest bit of time on me since the situation Tissaia ended was Gwendolyn. The servant woman. She's very sweet, and has been very supportive. A part of me wants to wish and hope that she is secretly my aunt and that she can whisk me away from this place forever. That is impossible, so outrageously optimistic that it almost makes me want to cry in frustration. Despite this though, she has been a beacon of light over the past few weeks, and I couldn't be more thankful. It's actually because of her, that what I lack in friends my age, I have gained friends her age. Much of the staff knows me by name, and occasionally I'll be visited by the odd maid who was passing by, or a cook who wanted me to try a new recipe of theirs. The company has been tremendous, but lacking. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy talking to them all and learning about their lives and stories of adventure from the few that have actually been out on the world to explore. But I want to bond with someone my age, and not for diplomatic reasons like I had before coming to Aretuza. So that I can genuinely enjoy the time I spend with another person, so we can cause trouble and talk about the people we like. Someone I could come out too if I trust them enough.

I thought I could get that from Tissaia, but she clearly has other plans. I'm hoping she forgets about my sexuality, I should have lied. I would have lied, if I'd known this is how we would end up. Me sitting at a table as far away from her, her new friends, and everyone else in the Hal as possible. While I watch her laugh from afar, and Margarita gets out of her seat with her tray and leaves the table, walking over towards me. Wait a minute! Why is she coming over here? Did she see me starring, am I about to get yelled at? I wasn't trying to stare, I was just… yes I was staring, but it wasn't in a bad way. I'm an idiot, what should I do? She's almost here. Fuck, damn it. I'm looking down, I'm going to look down at my tray and pick at my food while I wait for the ensuing lecture.

But it never comes. I see her place her tray down right in front of me and plop downright there. Timidly, I look up. Never being this close to her before, I suddenly notice so much. Her eyes are nothing like Tissaia's, actually, they're so much brighter and filled with mischief. Tissaia's eyes are more gray in comparison, not like it matters. Margarita's nose is ever so slightly crooked toward the left, and her lips are full. She is very attractive, shockingly so. On her plump lips, is a grin riddled with trouble and, surprisingly, friendliness. She doesn't seem all too abashed by my observation of her, she actually seems to be thriving off the attention, which is interesting. She, obviously, had no problem sizing me up too, and it's when her grin widens that our akward and strange silence is finally interrupted.

"So, (Y/N), are you having fun over here by yourself?" She says, taking a bite of the food on her plate. I hesitate, suspicious of her reasons for being over here.

"No, actually. It's quite boring." I say, looking around the hall. The girls at Margarita's former table are all looking over at us with confused faces, and I must say, I am just as confused. My confusion of course is dissipated when she speaks again.

"It can't be more boring than over there. They keep yapping about how the Rectoress is so powerful and assignments blah blah blah." She says emphasizing her words by waving her fork around. "You though," She points the fork at me.

"You seem like much more entertaining company to keep." She finishes her sentence by stabbing a piece of her pork and bringing it to her mouth to chew slowly. I had long since finished my food, but my glass was still half full, so I took a sip before answering. The juice inside is tart and dries my mouth some once I've swallowed it. Very disappointing.

"And what makes you think that, Margarita Laux-Antille." I say, opting to use her full name for formal and intimidation purposes. She swallows her bite of pork before giving me a devilish smirk. She places down her fork and puts her elbows on the table, folding her hands together under her chin.

"I know a fellow troublemaker when I see one, and seeing as how Tissaia has expressed a LOT about how much of one you are, I think you and I will get along perfectly." She says. Well… guess there's no arguing against that. I was about to try, but before I could open my mouth, she reached her hand out for me to shake.

"Just call me Rita, there's no need for all that fancy shit, especially since we're now friends." She says as I take her hand and shake it. I look her in the eye with my brows furrowed.

"I never said we were friends." I said, a bit of amusement playing on her face and mine. She stands up, smiling down at me.

"Maybe not yet…" she says cryptidly, "meet me in my room in 2 hours. It's the room at the end of your hall." And with that, she leaves the dinning hall and leaves me alone to my thoughts. I'm smiling, I know I am. Have I really just made a friend? Perhaps. She showed no intention of hurting me, so meeting her later shouldn't be too bad of a plan right? I will of course tell Gwen, for safety reasons, if she doesn't see me in the morning to help with breakfast she'll need to come looking. I know she will, she cares about me. If things do go wrong and it is a trap, then I can just run out and hide in my room for the rest of the night.otherwise, things should be nice and calm.

 

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Things were certainly NOT calm. Not in the slightest. Upon arriving at her room, I was very quickly greeted with smoke and the undeniable scent of alcohol. Why? Well because miss Margarita Laux-Antille was smoking a blunt of unknown origin and had a bottle of wine held firm in her hand. She clearly had just begun… whatever this is. But, I at least knew that she wasn't trying to kill me. On purpose. I lasted maybe 2 minutes before the temptation to join her was too much, she was incredibly adamant about me joining her in her little party, and who am I to decline. So, the night went from confusing to so irrevocably clear that I feel like an idiot for questioning her intentions before. The other girls, teacher's pets and people pleasers that they are, had refused to join Rita in her fun multiple times. That's ridiculous! Who in their right mind would give up the chance to get high out of your mind and three sheets to the wind with this complete wack job? Rita is a riot. She is completely unabashed by literally everything, she doesn't give a damn, and her sense of humor is absolutely filthy. She is the BEST person you could ever get into trouble with.

So much so, that maybe one joint and four swigs of wine in, and I'm agreeing to steal a frog from one of the many classrooms and put the little fucker in Roan's room. That task was not so horrible. Finding out where the frogs were was a problem, me and Rita had to drunkenly wonder about for hours trying to find out which room they were in. Everything was moving and all the rooms started to look the same. By some miracle, no one was patrolling this hall, for now anyway. Being drunk and completely dumbasses at the moment, we'd forgotten to close all of the doors that we opened. We don't care, we have a goal. At one point Rita had tugged on my dress and drug me into one of the rooms. It was decidedly NOT a classroom. It was a winery, how did we find it? We shall never know, but, it's location is now burned within our brains and we shall forever find it from this day forth.

The room in itself is massive, wall to wall are shelves of unopened bottles of wine and other random alcohols that are placed in some sort of order. That order does not matter to us intoxicated teenagers, because we are drunk… and teenagers. It's not rocket science the point is, we have been introduced to a treasure trove of liquid courage, and the first thing we're going to do is steal as much as we possibly can and hide it everywhere. So, our side quest begins. Take as much rum, brandy, wine, jack, scotch, vodka, and whatever else is in there and carry it in our skirts like kangaroo pouches. Our legs are indecently exposed, and we do not care, we have loot. Said loot is loud, which of course means that we should shush it. Shushing is actually more loud and pointless, but we do it anyway. Why? Because our new babies are being loud and they need to shut up. They do not shut up, not until we have all but one bottle each of it. Out of maybe 20 bottles, 2 are unhidden.

It is at this point that we have finally found the classrooms. So, after deciding to hide the last two bottles in my room tomorrow, we go and save a frog from it's doom. A very magical doom. Said frog is a grayish brown color and very cute. It's eyes are gold. He has been dictated a boy by Rita dearest, and his name is now Fredrick. Fredrick the frog, who will soon be acquainted with Roan. Roan, with her black hair and eyes. Roan, who talks too much and gets on Rita's nerves. Roan, who has insulted Tissaia on multiple occasions unknowingly.

"Roan did what!?" I whisper-yell at Rita. Rita, is amused, her face cracking into a manic and almost teasing grin.

"Yeah (Y/N)," she says smoothly, wrapping an arm around me and leaning against my shoulder, my already imparted balance worsening with her added weight and swaying. I asked her what Roan said, ignoring the slight tremor of anger I feel. It's nothing, I'm just mad that I wasn't the one who did it.

"Oh, Roan told her that she was an…. Uptight hormonal mess, " Rita hesitates, trying to remember through her haze. "With a serious neatness problem?" She is clearly unsure of her answer, but I have to laugh. The insult itself was funny, but clearly not meant as an insult. It was an observation that Roan, being her, couldn't keep to herself. My laughter is quickly joined by Rita's, both of us covering each other's mouths and shushing one another.We are nearly to Roan's room, the familiar hall with all of our rooms just around the next corner.

"Tissaia must have been mad," I said, chuckling lightly. Rita looks at me like I'm an idiot, I probably am.

"Mad? She wasn't just mad. She was livid, she stormed out of the hall without a word to anyone, it was fantastic…. But disappointing, Roan needs to shut up." She says, round the corner with me and starting to lead the way to Roan's room.

"Well, maybe sir Fredrick the fierce can teach her some manners?" I offer, looking down at Fredrick and letting him softly on his head. Rita shakes her head and stops in front of a door, slowly opening it. I frown, knowing that now I must let my dear friend Fredrick the frog go. Telling him goodbye, I hand him reluctantly to Rita. She goes into the room, leaving me to do a horrible job to keep a lookout.

Roan was fast asleep of course, because no one is supposed to be awake. Me and Rita giggle as quietly as possible while leaving Roan's room. The deed has been done, and what a wonderful morning it is. It's maybe…. Two in the morning? It's hard to keep track of time. They get caught of course, but by one of my servant friends, they look at the two of us, smile, wink, and carry on their way. The rest of the short trek to Rita's room is excruciatingly difficult because of the swaying, leaning, stumbling, and quiet chuckling we're doing.

When we have finally made it back to Rita's room, it's like the floodgates have been busted open, because the second that door closed we were on the floor laughing like buffoons. Rita, who has decided the night is not yet over, takes yet another swig of wine and passes it to me. It's warm, and grape flavored. I can understand why people would drink wine all the time at dinner parties, it's a delight! The way it makes you feel is amazing. I'm happy and everything is so funny, my eyes are kind of tired, but I'm not sleepy. I crawl over to Rita and grab her hand, grinning like an idiot.

"You are… my best friend…" I say, slurring slightly and shaking my head. Rita rolls over on top of me and hugs me, nuzzling into my chest. Her hair tickles my nose, so I blow it outta my face and wrap my arms around her.

"Besties… let's give those girls hell… hm?" She says drowsily, looking up at me and blinking slowly. With an unreasonably loud laugh and a dopey grin, I nod in agreement. She lays her head back down, sprawled on top of me. She's not exactly light, but I don't feel like moving her, so I let her lie there. Eventually she starts to snore, it's annoying, but I'm too drunk to care. So, not so long after her, I slowly begin to drift off… so begins the most chaotic and troublesome friendship in all of Aretuza. The Rectoress wanted chaos… well, here it is.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

BTS as FWB

Hyung Line

My sister and I were talking about this yesterday so I thought I'd do a post about how bts would handle being a fwb (spoiler alert they all catch feelings eventually)

**Also I take requests for BTS and maybe Monsta X so hmu in my asks, fam**

Hyung Line (Maknae Line coming up bc this got Loooong)

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol tw

Word Count: 1,779

Namjoon (RM)

If it was your idea, he would be so down like "yeah of course who needs relationships?" but low-key he wanted to confess to you 5 seconds before you suggested an arrangement

Puts that mouth to WORK

Likes it a little rough but nothing that would leave bruises or hickeys that's for amateurs

He has a downright filthy mouth this boy will have you clutching your pearls with the nasty shit he'll say (you love it)

Late night convos, this boy will text you at 3am not for a booty call but just to talk to you

He's more of an emotional booty call than just sexual, he'll come to you when he's stressed or upset

Don't get me wrong, he'll fuck your brains out but expect lots of pillow talk, especially if he's been drinking

Takes you out for coffee, will buy you breakfast, insists to his friends he isn't dating you since he doesn't take you out at night

You're the only one he's fucking, though he flirts a lot

If he runs into you at a club and you're dancing with someone else, God help you

He won't be mean just stupid charming, doing his best to lure you away for a night of crazy sex

If it doesn't work though, he'll be high key salty, pouty, whiny

You'll get texts until daylight because he'll keep drinking, imagining you with someone else

He might show up at your door at 6am, shitfaced, honestly

"Did you bring that clown home? No, I'm not jealous, I just wanted to talk to you."

You're weak so you let him in and he spends all day at your place recovering from his hangover

He will only admit he's caught feelings if you do first or if he thinks you're getting serious with someone else

If you go on dates he'll pick a fight with you about nothing and when you're yelling at him he'll just kiss you senseless.

"I love you, ok?"

You start dating him before you even know what's happening the smartass manipulative little shit

Jin

The biggest fuckboi of the group don't @me

He's a pro at this

After he got cheated on all his relationships are fwb arrangements and they always catch feelings first

Not you, though, you know he's a fuckboi and you know what you're in for

This boy will make you laugh during sex he's never serious he'll make you come while you're giggling over some stupid shit he said

Sexts, sexts, sexts

He will never stop dirty texting you while you're in an inappropriate place like work or dinner with your family

God forbid you tell him you're going on a date, then dick pics and sexts galore

He's not jealous, he's territorial, he wants to be the best you've ever had (he is but you would die before you'd admit that)

This boy is not even a little exclusive with you, at least not at first

He'd invite you over to meet his friends and be shook at how well you fit in

You start playing video games with Jungkook and when Kookie starts looking at you with stars in his eyes Jin goes all possessive puppy

All over you at all times he's not ashamed of you he just isn't ready for a relationship

Like Namjoon he will use you for emotional comfort too, although his pillow talk will be mostly jokes and flirting

Your convos don't get too serious unless he's had WAY too much to drink

Then he tells you about his ex and shit gets real for a second before he wakes up the next morning his flirty self again

He gradually stops texting the other booty calls he has on lock, just telling himself you're better in bed, that's all

Finds out you have another fwb when he comes to your house at 3am drunk

He is SO salty, there is less salt in the Pacific ocean

He's whiny and pouty and shading the other dude constantly

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous I'm just wondering why you bother with him, he's ugly."

But if he hung out with you and the other guy would not let on ONE bit. Makes friends with him, I easy going even if he's a bit touchy feely with you

But low-key stares at you like a kicked puppy when no one is paying attention

His friends are all like "what did you do to him?"

YOUR friends are like "what'd you do to him he looks so heartbroken"

He only admits to catching feelings when you get so fed up you say it's done and you are over it

He gets mean when he sees you with the other guy on a real date and says some cruel shit

You are D O N E

Block his number done

He will 100% show up drunk at your house

He's cute so you let him in and he really does look like a kicked puppy

Honest with you for the first time bc he's scared of losing you

"I still don't know if I can trust anyone enough for a relationship but you make me wanna try it. Don't cut me out."

Yoongi (Suga)

He would only agree to a fwb arrangement if he had some feelings for you

He's not the type to fuck around with a girl he can't see himself dating

Definitely the fuck and run type at first zero pillow talk

Absolute master with his hands and fingers LORD

Not too vocal during sex but it makes him crazy when you are if you want him to nut fast you just gotta moan his name

Won't say anything non sexual unless he's drinking even then it's low key like "You look pretty tonight."

Texts you for booty calls like "hey dumbass wyd"

Will not take you for coffee or be seen in public with you, bc he's worried you're ashamed of him, not the other way around. Otherwise why wouldn't you date him?

You have no clue he likes you. Absolutely none he barely talks to you unless he's horny

He loves it when you booty call him he's so smiley and sweet when that happens

He's so soft to you when you get too drunk at his house party and throw up

He sits behind you as you hug the toilet and strokes your hair for hours

You're shocked to wake up in his bed since he has a strict no overnights rule

Scolds you for drinking so much but brings you breakfast in bed and is low-key a sweetheart through your hangover

You: shook. Your heart: full

You don't tell him you're seeing other people until he point blank asks you. When you say yes, he just nods

"Good we always use condoms then."

Will ignore you and be kind of a dick when he finds out but that's not uncommon so you are still oblivious

If you wait on him to admit to catching feelings you will die waiting

Only one way you will find out

One of his dumbass friends lets something slip when they're drunk (It's probably Jin)

You're complaining about how he's ignoring you at the party

"Bitch he's so whipped for you his lockscreen is your selfie."

You cannot believe it

You think it's bullshit

You end up sleeping in Jungkook's room that night bc you fell asleep whupping his ass at Mortal Kombat

The next morning somebody is slamming every door in the house and throwing dishes around.

Jungkook's door is open so he saw you cuddled up to the maknae

He big mad

When you finally get him to talk about it (probably days later)

"I just don't want you fucking my friends it's messy."

You only find out the lockscreen shit is true when you grab his phone by accident

He knows you know he fucking BAILS

Books it outta your life for like a week

The only way you pin him down is by texting him a paragraph about how you like him too

He kisses you so sweet when you see him next and he's all smiles and affectionate

You're dating now, that's it, no need for discussion

RIP Kookie tho he'll never trust him again despite you telling him a thousand times nothing happened

Hoseok (J-Hope)

He agrees because he is literally down for anything

Definitely a good time this boy is so much fun in bed

Will try anything once and I mean ANYTHING

You wanna tie him up? Definitely. You want him to eat whipped cream off your tiddies? Tell him when and where

The world's biggest switch don't @me

Has a thing for public sex, loves to finger you on a dance floor

Y'all do everything together, everyone thinks you're just dating

He's a big goofball with you in public, v affectionate

He's your best friend and you're his

Y'all don't take anything seriously when one of you is upset you text each other dumb selfies and fuck it out next time you hang out

Never drunk dials you you won't even know he's out until you see him on the dancefloor with some girl

Y'all compete to see who can dirty dance with the most people before you go home together

Feelings? He's never heard of them

Least likely of all the boys to catch feelings first

Would take him FOREVER to realize he actually likes you

I'm talking y'all have been fucking for MONTHS before he catches on

If he gets jealous he'll just think it's bc he's competitive

If you make him sad by not hanging out with him he'll think he just wants the attention

Feelings hit him like a brick when he finally realizes

You're in his car jamming to his latest track and you're singing and dancing like a fool with your hair flipping around and all of a sudden it's like the sun shines only on you

The boy is SHOOK

He gets real quiet

Scary quiet

You think he's mad but when you ask him he blows you off with a smile saying he's tired

You don't hear from him for a couple of days

He's pacing around his place and trying to process, talking to friends and trying to decide what to do

Everyone tells him to just tell you ofc

Confident boy is not used to feeling insecure he's hesitant.

"What if she doesn't love me back?"

There's no dramatic reveal

He really just asks you on a date

A REAL one

Nothing much changes, honestly, he has always been your bff and being your bf is just a bonus

[mexicancat-girl]

Still Waters Run Deep

A birthday fic for @chadsuke ​ / @ftcoye ​! 

The last time I've written serious Naruto fanfiction was 2015, so I blame them for this.

I wanted to write something as a thank-you​ for them being one of the best writers for the Naruto fandom. Their fics always bring me joy. Their characterizations are amazing. Their wlw fics are galaxy brain. 

AO3 Link (here)

.

...

Mei Terumi could feel a headache coming on.

It was not over the current war effort, thankfully. Mostly because said war effort had managed to defeat their opponents, ie: a snake-possessed necromancer, a thought-to-be-dead megalomaniac, an impossibly hard-to-kill plant man, a self-made Jinchuriki, and a literal rabbit Goddess.

Truth be told, anyone should be having a headache from such an insane repertoire of God-like beings managing to cripple five nations worth of forces. Or, well, any sane person—and Mei likes to think herself as rightfully sane, thank you very much.

She is, after all, the person who stopped a tyrannical Kage from furthering destroying her home nation from the inside out. And, you know, committing even more genocide. So, there was that.

Thankfully, she is the current Mizukage. The Fourth Shinobi World War is done and over with. They have won. They are alive.

But Mei hasn’t survived this long without being able to see the big picture or think a few steps ahead. She wouldn’t have been able to dismantle Yagura’s forces and managed to beat him down and kill him, otherwise.

Every nation has suffered great losses from this war. They’d nearly been fighting an unwinnable battle ten times over. All the current survivors were no doubt suffering from massive psychological if not physical damage, having had to watch their comrades fall before them in variously gruesome ways.

That’s without accounting for the people who watched as their dead comrades and family were raised from the dead to fight against them. Then with them. Then having their bodies crumble as the jutsu keeping them going burned out, the stolen minutes with loved ones lost making things either healing or unbearable, depending on the person.

Quite frankly, it was an exhausting debacle for all involved, in ways that most of them had not—could not—have accounted for. They were all pushed to their limits physically, mentally, and emotionally.

And while the threats were finally vanquished, it’s not over yet. Not by a long shot.

Because after this, they must bury the dead. Heal their wounded.

Then after that, they have to figure out where the hell to go from here. How to just…move on.

Sure, the shinobi nations all teamed up together against this major threat. But what comes after…?

How will they deal with war criminals like Orochimaru of the Sannin? Like Kabuto Yakushi? Like Sasuke Uchiha?

How will they go about making a peace treaty? Will there be a peace treaty? They’ve come together to fight in this war, yes, but that was out of necessity. So that the entire world did not fall into chaos. This rare show of unity can hardly erase decades of bloodshed and ill will and complicated history between the Elemental Nations.

It’s all a rather nerves-inducing line of questioning that, sadly, they must consider. Especially those in positions of power and authority. Since Mei is Mizukage, she’ll no doubt have to weather all of that.

For any and all possible talks of peace, the Kage will be involved, of course, because that’s a no-brainer. But who else will be pulled into the discussions? The war tacticians? The Nations’ daimyo? The very teenagers that felled a God and saved them all? Probably. Most likely.

Mei Terumi can barely stand talking to Water Country’s daimyo on a good day. Add in the daimyo of the other Nations—all ridiculously spoiled, ludicrously rich, greedy old men—will eat away at her will to live. No doubt they’ll bicker over who will cover the costs of reparations, and about how much aid should be granted to their shinobi villages, and blah blah blah.

Kill her now…

Mei likes to think that she is perfectly reasonable. That she can keep a level head, and bullshit with the best of them. That she is strong enough to get her point across without being callously cruel—and that just because she has compassion, it shouldn’t be considered a weakness.

Her nation has lived under tyranny and pain and tumultuously bloody waters for far too long. She does not want to rule with an iron fist, but still wants to be strong and cutthroat enough to protect her people and keep others in check. She’s sure she can lead her village—her country, her home—to a better tomorrow.

She’s sure that not everyone else thinks that. Many people see what they like to see, and they see a beautiful woman who acts coquettishly and dresses up. They see a woman who happens to have two powerful kekkei genkai. She must have gotten lucky, right? She must have seduced and swayed enough men to her side to do her bidding, for her to be Mizukage. She must have gotten in a good shot with her two bloodlines, to take out the previous Mizukage.

Mei is a perfectly reasonable person, and she is competent, and she is strong, and she happens to be quite a good leader thank you very much.

She’s also fairly certain that no matter how hard she tries, she will not be held in the same regard simply because she is a woman in a world of men.

Case in point: even if the daimyo don’t get involved with the peace treaties, there’s the other Kage to worry about. Mei would like to think that she’s got the patience to deal with them and the coy poker-face to back it up, but they’re all rather…hm. Eclectic is the most diplomatic word she can think of.

Onoki is an old coot who wouldn’t know innovation and progressiveness if it bit him on his fat red nose. Ā is, quite frankly, a bullheaded asshole who has negative tact and is constantly grandstanding to compensate for his probably small dick. Two patronizing, utterly misogynistic bastards that would rather butt heads and yell for an entire meeting than take any form of suggestions because they had sticks shoved that far up their own asses.

They were downright incorrigible.

There was also the third male of the group to worry about, though admittedly in a completely different sense.

Gaara speaks carefully and is perfectly polite, very willing to listen to others on top of that. He’s proven himself to be a good leader and oddly fantastic motivational speaker—kid could probably move an entire mountain range if he asked the ground nicely enough— strong in his own right. But there’s still the fact that he’s just a teenager.

He’s only been Kazekage for about, what, two years? Sure, that’s longer than Mei’s been Mizukage by double, but she’s been spearheading the Kiri Rebellion for a solid number of years before-hand. She’s led squadrons and held the lives of hundreds in her hands while Gaara was still stuck in school or private lessons. Suna scrambled in the time it took to train up a replacement after their Kage was assassinated by Orochimaru, lucky enough to find someone as strong as Gaara to take the mantel. But that doesn’t hide the fact that he’s the most inexperienced of them, made a Kage all at sixteen, barely seventeen now.

Despite everything he’s done to prove himself in the war—and having proven himself at least a good five times over, at that— Gaara’s age will always be an obstacle he has to overcome. Onoki and Ā certainly didn’t consider him a threat to their grandstanding and bullshit for just that reason, using seniority as to why they considered their own peon brains to be greater than Gaara’s.

Gaara is someone who’s willing to listen to reason, but Mei cannot count on him to be her main support. To act as a tiebreaker, possibly. But Onoki and Ā look down on him nearly the same amount as they look down on Mei herself. The fact that he is young puts him on the same level of Mei being a woman, in their misogynistic views.

The only person she can count on to have any Gods-forsaken sense is Tsunade Senju, and for good reason.

Tsunade is older than all of them but Onoki, and she certainly has the strength and experience to back herself up. She hasn’t been a Kage for as long as Onoki and Ā, but her strength is literally legendary and she’s well-travelled and intelligent, which is more than either man can claim. She’s one of the Sanin, and she revolutionized Medic Ninjutsu across the entirety of the Elemental Nations, for Gods’ sakes.

If not for Tsunade being temporarily incapacitated during her tenure, she’d have a spotless record.

As it is, she cuts through bullshit like a sharpened kunai through butter. Nothing cows her. No men will get her to back down, and certainly not men she could crush with her bare hands.

Tsunade is so competent and amazing, Mei’s possibly even a little in love. But that’s natural, isn’t it? It’s Tsunade Senju, after all. Mei’s sure everyone is a little starstruck when in the presence of such a force of nature.

In fact, Mei quickly finds that the first post-war meeting with Tsunade is probably the smoothest and most productive meeting between the Kage yet, no doubt since the founding of the Hidden Villages themselves!

And it’s all because Tsunade Senju takes no prisoners. When she sets out to do something, she gets it done.

Onoki and Ā are quick to start bickering about reparation costs and whining about treaties like the utterly braindead, paranoid bastards they are.

But, oh no. That doesn’t long very long with Tsunade around.

The blonde woman slams her palm on her desk with careful restraint, as the wood doesn’t shatter on impact. She leans over it, stares straight into Onoki and Ā’s eyes with an intensity that would make lesser men shit their pants.

And then, speaking in a tone that brooked no argument, “My grandfather, Hashirama Senju, God of Shinobi, could tame the Tailed Beasts. He first created the Ninja Villages for peace. He was literally re-animated to fight by our side, in the flesh. Alongside my student, one of the teenagers that helped kill a God because the world couldn’t shut the fuck up for two seconds and stop fighting. We. Are. Going. To. Have. Peace.”

Both men closed their mouths, in-synch, with audible clicks of their teeth.

For once, they are silent, and it’s utterly delightful.

“As someone who stopped a bloody civil war and the massacre of bloodlines, in order to bring peace to their own Village, I concur,” Mei agrees calmly, flashing a sweet smile with a hint more teeth than polite. Normally, she would have more constraint, but she is so damn giddy, she can’t help herself but jumping at the weakness like a shark smelling blood.

(She may be kinder than the past Mizukage by leagues, but she is still the leader of the Bloody Mist. She’ll find a way to reform her Village so it’s no longer known as the Bloody Mist, but they are still the most ruthless of the Ninja Villages by far.

That is to say: when Mei sees an obvious weak point, a chance to sink her teeth it, well. She’ll take it. She’s not all looks, after all. She’s as ruthless as the rest of them.)

Onoki and Ā narrow their eyes at Mei, their lips thinned as they frown disapprovingly and grumpily at her—no doubt for her daring to speak.

But before they can protest, Gaara comes in clutch, as the tiebreaker that Mei had been hoping for.

Hands clasped in front of himself and looking much older than his seventeen years, the Kazekage nods solemnly. “I agree.”

One meeting.

One meeting is all it takes to make the peace talks officially under way, and Mei cannot be more relieved.

She might just have to send Tsunade a complimentary fruit basket or something, as a thank-you. The Sanin has managed to nearly singlehandedly dismantle the bullshit of grandstanding and dick-measuring that the meetings would have devolved into, if not for her directness.

Besides, it was impossible for Onoki and Ā to ever compare, anyways.

After all, Tsunade very obviously had the biggest dick out of them all, just by proxy of how she conducted herself alone.

It’s also helpful to have someone that the saviors of the world so clearly respect and look up to. Sakura Haruno was literally Tsunade’s student. Naruto Uzumaki calls her ‘granny’. Sasuke Uchiha is wary around her and stands as far as possible from the woman that he can— without both appearing rude and leaving the side of his friends.

So yes, it was an absolute blessing to have Tsunade as the Hokage, if only because it made everything so much easier for Mei to handle as the Mizukage in political meetings.

Women have to stick together, after all, in a world of men.

But hopefully, they’ll help usher in a future where women are given the opportunities to be able to be equals with men. Being female Kage certainly helps start that.

The future is looking bright to Mei already.

...

[babywarg]

Drpepperony Prompt: Stephen rescues Pepper, who had been kidnapped by a cult, it’s just too bad his outfit matched his surroundings so well when Tony showed up.

Thanks for another absolutely fun prompt! 💕

This one sort of operates in a similar setup to a previous DrPepperony fic also written for @mistressstrange, where Pepper goes to Nepal looking for a way to help Tony, and finds Stephen. Also a pre-relationship fic. The circumstances are just a bit different here.

[9/16/2019: Have to put up this obnoxious note again: NOT ACCEPTING NEW PROMPTS AT THE MOMENT. Thank you for understanding 💕]

***

It was a mystery to Stephen how so many people left Kamar-Taj disillusioned, then formed their own religious groups.

As Master of the Mystic Arts, he found himself having to bust one too many former Masters who built up honest-to-goodness cults that used magic indiscriminately.

Many of them used black magic, too. But then, he supposed the temptation not to do so was simply too great, once one had broken free of Kamar-Taj’s tacit restraints…

To be fair, most cults were relatively harmless - dealing less in magic, and more in self-actualization and healing. Those did not need busting, only close surveillance from the Masters based in the Sanctums nearest to them.

And then, there were some downright dangerous cults that had to be busted multiple times.

“Rupert,” Stephen greeted, the business end of a magical sword pressed against his much larger, burlier captive’s left carotid artery. “This makes what - the third time?”

“Fourth,” the man in his grip growled through gritted teeth. “And this won’t be the last time either, Strange. You really should put stronger locks on those things you Kamar-Taj jokers call jails…”

“You know as well as I do,” Stephen admonished, “it’s more of a reform school than a prison. We never punish, Rupert - we teach.”

“You teach,” Rupert-the-cult-leader spat. “The world is cruel, Strange. It needs more warriors, fewer teachers.”

“Yeah, well, the world needs fewer cruel people, too. Like kidnappers.” Stephen glanced around at the room. “Where are you keeping them?”

Rupert sneered. “You seem to know everything - you tell me.”

Stephen sighed. Knocked out his captive with a fast sleep spell. Diffused his weapon, and set about finding the tourists that the cultists had kidnapped.

He smiled a little to himself as he remembered Wong warning him not to go alone, because Rupert’s cult was larger than it had ever been, and Stephen surely couldn’t take on all of them by himself.

Sure, Wong, Stephen silently chuckled as he stepped over knocked-out cult members who were dressed in Kamar-Taj novice robes.

He used a spell to ferret out a corner of the makeshift temple that was hidden away by magic. One quick incantation, and the deflective barrier was broken.

The handful of kidnapped tourists fled toward the exit he pointed to.

Except for one.

“There were more of us,” she said to him. “They must be held elsewhere in the building. We have to find them.”

“No, I have to find them,” Stephen corrected. “You have to get to safety.”

“You saved me,” the red-haired, blue-eyed captive answered. “Where you are is safety.”

…Okay. Inaccurate, but a surprisingly nice thing to hear.

He decided it wouldn’t hurt to have her along. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who knew self-defense, at least…and if his earlier brush with Rupert and his feeble followers was any indication, he could defend the both of them well enough.

He soon learned that her name was Potts. Pepper Potts. Like all the other kidnap victims, she had come to Nepal as a tourist. And, like all the others in her group, she fell into Rupert’s cult’s clutches because she was promised an audience with a reclusive but powerful guru.

She had no idea that said guru (was named Rupert and) had plans to use her and her companions as pawns to spark some sort of conflict. What kind of conflict, she wasn’t quite sure - but in the end, it didn’t matter.

“I heard there were teachers here who could do…amazing things,” Potts told Stephen as they walked down long corridors, careful not to trigger magical traps. “Healing things.”

“Was that what you were looking for, Ms. Potts?” Stephen asked. “Healing? For yourself?”

“Help,” was the quick reply. “For someone I love.”

…Oh. So she already had someone.

Of course she did.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Stephen offered. “Maybe I can be of service.”

Potts eyed him sidelong. “Are you going to tell me you’re some sort of guru, too?”

“A doctor. Actually.” Stephen smirked. “Not to brag, but before I came here, I was – “

He didn’t finish that sentence.

A wall exploded just beside them. And before Stephen knew it, a literal iron fist was around his neck.

When he was able to focus his eyes, through the haze, he found himself face to face with a shell of pure, cold metal.

The Iron Man.

“Tony, no!” Stephen heard Potts yell. “He’s all right! Let him go!”

Thankfully, the Iron Man obeyed Potts at the drop of a hat. Stephen fell to the floor once released.

A quick check told him his throat wasn’t dangerously constricted, but he could already feel the start of bruising.

“You take a leave for ‘reasons’,” the Iron Man said to Potts in a clearly worried, slightly miffed tone, “and I track you and find you in the company of a bunch of wackos and one weirdly good-looking cultist - ”

“Cult?” Stephen scoffed from the rubble he was lying on. “I’m from a completely different organization than these bozos. One that harnesses true power.”

Both the Iron Man and Potts stared down at him.

”…Yeah, that sounds like a cult,“ the Iron Man pointed out.

“It’s not a –” Stephen started to argue. But Potts didn’t let him finish.

“You were spying on me??” Potts exclaimed.

The Iron Man retracted his helmet with a frustrated sigh…

Bringing to light one of the most ruggedly handsome faces Stephen had ever laid eyes on.

Might have been the dust and sunlight pouring in through the hole in the wall messing with his vision. But goddamn, he was in the presence of so much pretty…

…both of whom seemed to forget that he was even there.

“Pep, the Mandarin fiasco just wrapped up,” the Iron Man - Tony - pleaded passionately. Without the mask’s mechanical amplifier, his voice sounded small, human, helpless. “You’re still recovering from that. Even if you said you needed time alone, did you really think I wouldn’t make sure you were safe? Really??”

“That’s not the point, Tony, you promised you were going to take things easy.” Her stressed-out sigh echoed Tony’s from just a moment ago.

“I know, honey, I know I promised, but it’s hard for me.”

“I know that, too, Tony. Why did you think I was here in the first place? I was trying to get some help for you. Something that may help you calm down.”

“You know what would help me calm down? You not getting into trouble!”

“Trouble isn’t something either of us can control, Tony. And I suppose getting rid of all your suits was just an act?”

“Of course it was! I had to keep just one suit, to protect you!”

They were going to bicker all day if Stephen didn’t do anything, so he got to his feet and cleared his throat.

“Hate to break up this…touching reunion,” he interrupted, “but Ms. Potts said there were more people in need of rescuing. So if you’ll excuse me…”

“Hold it, gorgeous,” Tony snapped at him. “I’m coming to help.” He faced Potts again. “You are not. You’re going somewhere safe if I have to carry you there.”

Potts looked like she was preparing for another shouting match. But somehow she managed to calm down and loudly sigh “Fine.”

She stepped up to Tony and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Take care of him,” she instructed. “If he wasn’t around, I would’ve wrung your neck.”

“ ‘Thanks for coming to save me, Tony,’ ” Tony said softly. “Sure might have been nice to hear…”

“Except it wouldn’t have been true.” Potts was smiling now. “He saved me, not you.”

With that, she turned and made her way to the exit.

And Tony had no one else left to talk to but Stephen.

“Well,” he tentatively began, “suppose some thanks are in order, Mr…”

“Strange.”

Tony had a myriad of reactions at his disposal. But he chose to laugh as he said “What?”

Stephen inwardly shrugged. “It’s…Strange.”

“You're telling me.” He decided he’d talked enough. “C'mon, sexy. Let’s go find more folks to rescue.” He patted Stephen’s shoulder as he walked past him.

Stephen wasn’t altogether happy with being so easily dismissed. But there was an urgent task at hand, so any discomfort would have to be addressed later, if it was even still necessary.

Besides, saving people in the company of this impulsive, filter-less guy might not be all bad.

He wouldn’t mind being called “sexy” for a little while longer.

[do-what-the-knight-tells-you]

So I saw a post on here talking about how, when you take the shit Geralt says in the TV series at face value, it’s unbelievably hurtful and cruel towards Jaskier, just, downright mean, and callous, and designed to make Jaskier feel he’s wasted two decades of his life.

But I hate that, because it makes me sad, and on a rewatch, I found an alternate take.

So whether Geralt is neurodivergent in a way we recognize clinically (ASD perhaps? I won’t address that here, but I love Autistic!geralt headcanons), or whether he’s just built himself a particularly abrasive method of interaction over 100 years of shit, prejudice, and abuse, his really rough, rude abrasive words towards Jaskier are not genuine.

And I would expect/choose to believe, that if Jaskier has continued their companionship over two decades, he has not only recognized this about Geralt, but decided he’s more or less okay with it.

So I had the thought particularly during the djinn episode– saw it pointed out somewhere, how un-comforting Geralt is when the elf-healer tells Jaskier the Djinn-curse can kill him. Jaskier turns, desperate, scared, says “fuck, Geralt!” and Geralt sort of awkwardly pats him on the back and says “yeah, we’re not gonna let that happen” in a fairly begrudging way, as if suggesting that the whole situation isn’t that big a deal.

So what if that response has less to do with not caring, with being callous towards Jaskier’s life and fear, and more with either a genuine awkwardness and discomfort with the idea of comforting someone, he really doesn’t know what to say, he’s not used to being a comfort (most ppl are scared enough of him that even when he rescues them, they’d still prefer he left than comfort them in any way), and he’s probably received very little comfort in his life, doesn’t know how to do it, and is barely experienced with the idea of admitting one might want or need it.

And/or, we see the candid, unemotional way he reacts to the ghoul bite in ep7, to the knowledge that he’s seconds from death. So clearly the smooth, stoic, sarcastic, unaffected thing is his usual method of handling scary shit. He doesn’t even raise his voice unless it might help (i.e. out-yelling Yennefer to be heard over the djinn-hurricane, hoping that he can persuade he to give up the really terrible course of action she’s on that’s gonna kill her).

So the other part of it could totally be a case of him downplaying the danger, trying not to think, speak, allude to, mention the danger, possibly as his own coping mechanism (a lot easier to be “fearless” when you repress the shit out of whatever might scare you. if you never let yourself think about the possibility that things might go horribly wrong, then it’s a lot easier to conduct yourself as if nothing bad might happen).

So when he awkwardly pats Jask on the back, distractedly, begrudgingly, patronizingly says, “yeah, we wont let that happen.” It’s genuine awkwardness, and/or a coping mechanism to not let himself think about how bad it is (focus on the solution, not the problem, solve this one, and then the next, etc… he’d do a good job surviving alone on Mars, I think), and/or an attempt to keep Jask calm by not validating his panic, like how if you don’t make a big deal out of a kid’s scraped knee, sometimes then the kid doesn’t panic either and it’s fine.

And likely Jaskier has been his companion long enough to know some of that, maybe even to actually be comforted by Geralt’s lack of panic. Imagine how goddamn frightening it’d be if your super brave/tough/stoic friend actually looked scared.

(the line, when the elf dude starts talking about how in love with Yennefer Geralt must be, when Geralt says “you’re making me uncomfortable?” It’s definitely a funny line, but also it’s possibly genuine. Geralt genuinely expressing himself)

And then later in the episode, Jaskier delivers that line about “wait, is this the moment you decide to finally care about someone other than yourself?” We literally saw him drop everything, ride across the countryside (putting you on Roach, which he never does), seek help from several unknown sources, including this sketchy sorceress chick (and he admits to her and the audience that his concern over saving Jask’s life was such that he A: skipped the opportunity to seek help for his tortuous insomnia issue and B: was more than a bit willing to sell himself into indentured servitude/ something that looked a bit like prostitution)…

Like, fuck off, it’s clear he cares an awful lot about you Jask, and you have to know that. so are YOU being cruel back? or, are you playing along with what Geralt seems to be comfortable with, caring about you so long as neither of you look at that straight-on, or make him talk about it.

-

okay, so than the mountain-top divorce. like, Geralt’s p harsh through a lot of that episode, but there is a tiny bit of playfulness I think still in that dig about worthy travel companions. And if this is a method of talking to each other that they engage in regularly, that Jaskier willingly keeps subjecting himself to…

and then Jask comforts Geralt after the mountain crossing, and when he floats the bit about them traveling together again (maybe implying that these recent adventures are new-ish again, perhaps after a period of separation, perhaps Geralt is extra harsh… perhaps this is a normal-ish thing that Jask has noticed, that Geralt is always more brusque, more accidentally hurtful rather than just dry, right at the beginning or end of their travels together, a defense mechanism of sorts? protecting himself from the pain of separation he’s trying not to acknowledge even exists?) anyway, he floats the line, and I’m p sure Geralt nods.

Jaskier seems to know him pretty damn well.

So none of this makes what Geralt says not shitty, and not hurtful, but rather than let myself wallow in the idea that Jask is completely devastated, feels he’s wasted twenty years of his life on a person who is literally ready to throw him away…

Hopefully not. Hopefully he knows Geralt well enough not to… not to give him a pass, necessarily, Geralt def needs to learn from and atone for that really gross behavior… but enough to know that Geralt’s just very bad, unpracticed, and a bit oblivious when it comes to hurt feelings, to understand that Geralt’s just in a shitty toxic place, that it’s got nothing to do with Jask, that the best thing for all of them is for him to remove himself as a target and let Geralt sort his shit out in his own.

That Jask knows this is one of those times where he can trust his friend with his body, but not his feelings/heart.mind/energy, and he needs to take care of himself first.

So hurt, yeah, but not like devastated, knowing that Geralt didn’t mean his words, but did mean, in that moment, to hurt Jask genuinely and drive him off, not in the light-brusque-teasing way that they sometimes have between them. Knowing both that Geralt was reacting to Yennefer, to other hurts, not to Jask, but also knowing that Geralt was willing to put his own momentary vindictive satisfaction over Jaskier… and so knowing that is was time for them to part for a while, for his own sake. That pushing through at this time was gonna be more masochistic than beneficial or productive, so it was time to look after his own mental health.

Like, this is sort of a pattern I’ve seen in folks in the real world. There’s someone close to me who struggles with some nasty bipolar shit (he’s not found a good med combo for him yet, and even when he’s in a more healthy place, lots of his tools and learned behaviors are mostly crappy still from years of this barely coping while undiagnosed), and sometimes he’s cruel as hell, usually when he hates himself the most, and is lashing out partly in an attempt to get you to say nasty shit back, and justify both his resentment of you, and his belief that he is a worthless shitty person.

And when he’s in those periods, it behooves many of us to just… walk away. like, if you can be/are willing/able to be the person that supports someone through that kind of shit, that’s totes your call to make, and might be a really awesome thing for that person (and that’s where professional help and support can also be awesome! Ppl who have trained to be able to hear the bad shit without taking it personally, and to still be able to guide you to better tools afterwards!)

But sometimes, you also have to take your own health and energy and stuff into account and go “I know this person is being a cruel asshole because they are sick and/or hurting… but also I do not need to swallow the shit just cuz there’s an explanation. so imma peace out until they get their shit together a little more, and are gonna be less toxic/hurtful to me, stop taking it out on people. I can help them, maybe, but their mental health is NOT my sole responsibility, and I do a disservice to both of us if I decide it is, and abdicate personal responsibly for my OWN health in the process.” Put on your own mask first, and all that.

(I’ve seen this in alcoholics I know, as well, and the other side of that is letting them know “hey, I know you feel like you have no control, but one area where you do have some, is how you treat people. and if you’re acting like an asshole, then ppl won’t want to be treated that way. They aren’t leaving because You suck, they are leaving because Your Behavior sucks, and if you want to be around them in future, you should maybe work on your behavior. You are not inherently a Mean Person, but the things you do and say to people are Mean, and they don’t need to sit there and let themselves be abused” Like, it is possible to be ill, and make mistakes!, without being consistently cruel to folk.)

So, magical shenanigans and hissy-fits not a perfect analogy for BD, but it resonated a bit, so I figured I’d share

[siriusist]

Opinion: Bohemian Rhapsody versus Rocketman. GO.

Okay, I’m going to preface this with saying I’ve been a classic rock nerd all my life: One of the first songs I remember hearing was the Traveling Wilburys’ ‘Handle with Care’ on cassette, and my Dad pointing out each of the iconic rock idols in the band, hence being obsessed with George Harrison from an early age and listening obnoxiously to Bob Dylan and ELO (The other being ‘Do You Love Me’ by The Contours). I was the kid in high school who only had classic rock on their iPod, had a crush on John Entwistle and George Harrison. When I travelled to England for the first time, I literally spent the majority of my spending money getting these boss limited-edition Who Converse sneakers at a mod shop in Kent, and returned at sixteen to Canada thinking I was IT. xD 

My point is, I’ve always been a classic rock nerd, so I think I like to know a bit about what is represented versus actual events, etc. I’m also aware there’s a divide between critics and public reaction, especially in terms of Bohemian Rhapsody. 

That being said, I honestly think Rocketman is a better film in terms of using Elton John’s music to evoke and illustrate different points in his life, and therefore a better film for the snooty classic rock fan. By having the music demonstrative of different points in his life, it felt less to me like a discography (Which is what Bohemian Rhapsody felt like to me), and more of a study of the person behind the music, and what makes them tick. Taron Egerton also sang all the music in Rocketman, which honestly, puts him head and shoulders above Rami’s performance, although I think most people would agree, no one could recreate the vocal talents of Freddie Mercury.

I also think Taron’s performance was more nuanced and more realistic, which is what I like about Elton John. No matter how much of a twat he acts like, he (usually) admits to acting like a twat. Rocketman didn’t shy away from that, and it made an infinitely more interesting character study before that. You understand at the end that Elton is sensitive but creates a persona to create a bravado outside of that: You also have a really unique perspective in a platonic soulmate relationship between a gay and straight man between him and Bernie Taupin, which I love, and is rarely represented on screen in terms of queer relationships. It’s really unnatural, and clearly written by straight people usually, but it’s usually OMG A GAY MAN THAT MUST MEAN HE MUST WANT TO SLEEP WITH EVERYONE AROUND HIM (Which is completely untrue; does a straight person want to sleep with everyone around them? Not usually).

It also doesn’t shy away from the worst aspects of Elton’s character: That he can be downright cruel and lash out if he feels like he’s being attacked, his issues with bulimia, drug addiction, and alcohol abuse, his dependency on the opinion of his parents, when basically it shows what absolute jealous losers they are and how they were disgustingly jealous of their son’s talent, enough to wish he’d never been born. That makes the film ten times more interesting, even without it being the ‘character’ of Elton John. 

It also acts as a great character study of being gay in the late sixties early seventies, and the attitudes there. I found in Bohemian Rhapsody, that really was never addressed? I think it tried to address the cultural divide between Freddie’s family and him, but in real life, Freddie never ‘came out’ to his parents, so I think it was a bit of revisionist history on behalf of Brian May and Roger Taylor. 

I also honestly didn’t think the portrayal of Freddie was particularly nuanced, besides the typical ‘he’s getting too big for his britches’ late second half split that happens in any rock movie. I felt like they were afraid to display any qualities that were too far gone in making him an ‘unlikable’ character, because he’s passed on now and seen as a rock god. But I also found the performance a little boring, to be honest (I felt it was earnest, but Rami didn’t really have a lot to work with).

Live Aid was also moved up in the timeline, which is fine, and expected to make a narrative for a rock band film, but the one thing I didn’t like about Bohemian Rhapsody was that it felt like it was made for a really casual fan? Which is fine, but it really felt like, as previously mentioned, they were just going through the discography of their greatest hits, rather than having them serve any bigger purpose. Now we’re going to have a scene of “We Will Rock You,” now John Deacon is going to write the bass line to ‘Another One Bites the Dust,’ that sort of thing. 

Then, when Live Aid DOES happen in the movie, it’s basically a shot for shot remake. Which is fine, if you haven’t seen the actual Live Aid performance. But if you have, the last twenty minutes of the film basically feels like a pantomime of a better performance with more electricity in the air.

I also didn’t like how they basically played off John Deacon as a joke most of the time, when he literally is responsible for some of Queen’s best songs. I know he’s essentially retired now, and Roger and Brian were basically in control of the script, etc., but seriously. Half the songs they highlight in the film (’You’re My Best Friend, Another One Bites the Dust, etc.) were written by John. Even at the stupid reunion scene, Freddie’s like YOU HAVE A ROLE BRIAN, AND YOU HAVE A ROLE, ROGER, AND DEAKY, WHEN YOU MAKE THAT FACE, and I’m like REALLY. IS THIS ALL THIS FUCKER DOES. XD

Lastly, I honestly just found the insertion of Mary Austin as a major part of the film irritating. I know she played a large role in his life, and I’m not trying to take away from that, but considering the questionable things she’s done in the past towards Freddie’s partner (I.E: Kicking him out of Freddie’s house like literally a month after he passed away, refusing not to be in the first car in the funeral procession with him, not allowing him to take the cats him and Freddie shared with him, etc.), I’m not a huge fan. I also didn’t particularly like where they had that whole scene where Freddie is attempting to explain he loves her platonically and she just comes out dramatically and basically says he can’t be bisexual and basically pitches a huge bitch fit and decides his sexuality for him and yells, “YOU’RE GAY.” Maybe that’s what truly happened, but it just felt disingenuous to who Freddie was as a person (From what I understood, besides saying he didn’t feel sexually attracted to women, he didn’t particularly care what gender people were that he was with), so it just felt to me like they had to have a straight woman in the film to code that Freddie could be in love with a woman so therefore ‘acceptable gay’ (Hot take). Plus she was basically the relatable stand-in for the audience, so we’re basically supposed to take her side  so Freddie’s more ‘queer’ experiences were more relatable. YEESH. XD At least Elton had it right when he said his film was rated ‘R’ because he ‘hadn’t led a PG-13 rated life.’ xD

And that’s what I really liked about Rocketman: You could feel it was written from the perspective of a queer person, or at least with the input of a queer person (obviously). The platonic friendship angle, the fear and coming to a realisation about coming out angle, the fact that many gay men, especially back then, were abused by partners in power dynamic relationships, and even subtle aspects, like that whole scene of ‘Tiny Dancer,’ where Elton is literally surrounded by a party of straight people hooking up, and he’s on his own. He doesn’t fit in, even though he’s literally ‘the star of the show.’ He’s not like everyone else, and can only hope to be like everyone else forlornly and have that love connection he wants so desperately. That’s what I loved about Rocketman, and that’s why I’ve rewatched it several times, while I literally only watched Bohemian Rhapsody once: It’s real narratives and experiences we don’t usually get, and it doesn’t cater to someone’s ‘idea’ of what a certain rock star is. It’s more creative, unique, and nuanced than Bohemian Rhapsody could ever be, and I’m still bitter (along with Elton John), that Egerton won the Golden Globe for Best Actor, but wasn’t nominated for an Oscar, probably because Bohemian Rhapsody was released the year before, and they didn’t want two actors playing classic rock gods to win the Oscar two years in a row. 

But anyhow: I have a lot of feelings about this and thank you for asking. xD

[theoneandonlyameliajones]

Wishing For You Chapter 1

Summary:  The Kingdom Todoroki has seen better days. Amidst the chaos, two boys work together to hunt down a wishing potion that could change both their lives. Will Prince Shoto Todoroki ever escape his life as a royal? Will ordinary Izuku Midoriya ever become a UA Knight? Find out as they discover secrets about the kingdom and secrets about each other.

The kingdom of Todoroki had seen better years. The chaos it was experiencing now was brought by King Enj Todoroki, who ruled with an iron fist. Not only was the king short-tempered and ill-mannered, but also downright cruel. His subjects learned to fear him and those who decided to dissent were purged. The purges were commonplace and citizens knew that they too could get burned at the stake just as their brothers, mothers, and lovers had. Morover, the king had a strong personal military known as the UA Knights. The knights were not all bad and some righteous individuals joined their ranks, but most of them were power-hungry. They would carry out the king’s orders without a second thought and were the ones who gathered up citizens for the king’s purges. It helped that these Knights weren’t ordinary humans, they each had a mark on their body called a wielder mark which would help them wield a certain power that would enhance their battle prowess. King Enji Todoroki held the wielder mark for fire, but some knights held the mark for water, wood or strength. Each mark had a unique shape and location on one’s body and only 2% of the population had one. However, the mark was a requirement if you wanted to become a UA Knight. Unfortunately, one Izuku Midoriya didn’t have such a mark. Still, his dream was to become one of the infamous UA Knights. Let’s take a look at him, shall we?

Young Midoriya lived on a small farm on the outskirts of the kingdom with only his mother and animals to keep him company. Still, he was a big dreamer and wanted more than anything to be a UA Knight. Unfortunately, without a wielder mark, his dream could never be.

“Izuku Baby! What are you doing!” yelled Inko Midoriya. Izuku stole his mother’s sheep herding staff once again. He would often pretend it was a sword and train with it. Although at first, his mother found it endearing, he was older now and should have known that he could never become a knight.

“Mom, I told you I’m training. How else am I going to become a UA Knight?” said Izuku with a big smile. Inko loved his smile, but his statement made her heartache every time.

“Izuku we talked about this,” frowned Inko, “without a wielder mark there is no way you could ever become a UA Knight. Besides, why would you want to be one anyway? You do know what they did to your father right?”

“I know, I know. I’m not saying that all the kights are good, but I want to be one just like All Might. He would help people and I heard he even helped people escape the purges. I want to help people just like he did.”

“I know honey, but there are other ways to do that. No one even knows what happened to All Might. Some say he was purged by the King, and I don’t want to lose you like I lost your father baby. Stay here on the farm and help me out, that way I can keep you safe.” Inko pulled her son into a tight hug. It was less for him and more for herself. She loved her son more than the entire world and promised long ago not to let anything happen to him.

“You know I don’t want to leave you Mom, but the farm is struggling. If we don’t make some money fast, then I don’t know what’s going to happen to us. If I could just become a knight, they have great pay and I would be able to support you and the farm.”

“Izuku how do you plan on doing that without a mark!” His mother yelled in frustration. To her, it seemed her baby boy was just ignoring the facts.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” he smiled at his mother as he headed inside to grab his book bag. “I’m heading into town, I’ll be back within a few days.” he kissed his mother goodbye and ran off.

“Izuku!!!” Inko yelled, but to no avail. She would just have to hope that he would be back safe, but that was much easier said than done.

What Izuku told his mother was true, he did have a plan. He found a book in his father’s study that held a few loose pages each highlighting different secrets of the kingdom. Various things that didn’t interest Izuku about the rumored heir, castle politics and the king himself. However, there was one thing that did, the recipe for a wishing potion which was said to make any wish come true. The recipe called for 5 ingredients: a witch’s acid, a feather of darkness, a tear of mourning, a hair from a retired knight and bark from the Amour Tree. Izuku figured that if he gathered all the ingredients then he could finally get a wielder mark and become a UA Knight. That being said, he had no idea how to get some of these ingredients. Still, he had to start somewhere and knew exactly where to get the first one.

Meanwhile, in the palace, Crown Prince Shoto Todoroki was busy listening to his father’s drivel. The prince was familiar with his father’s cruelty and wanted more than anything for the King to get what he deserved. Still, he knew that he would have to be the one to supersede him, but wanted to do anything but. The people needed a strong and kind-hearted leader now and Shoto knew that he wouldn’t be able to rebuild the kingdom after all his father had done. Why would the people want another Todoroki to rule them anyway?

“Shoto? Have you been listening to a word I said?” the King grunted in frustration.

“I’m sorry father. Could you please repeat it?” asked Shoto uninterestedly.

“I swear you are going to be King of this kingdom when I die, the least you can do is listen to me. Your 18 now Shoto, it is time to get married, yet you still haven’t decided from the many princesses I’ve shown you.” said the King. Shoto remembered the many portraits of princesses brought in. They were all very pretty, but to Shoto, that was all they were. He didn’t really know any of them after all.

“Sorry father, but none of them interest me. I suppose I’m just not in the mood to get married right away. How am I supposed to decide if I don’t even know them?”

“It’s not that big of a decision boy, you are not marrying for love. You are marrying for an heir. If you don’t marry then how will the Todoroki line continue?”

“Perhaps it shouldn’t,” Shoto muttered under his breath.

“What was that boy?!” his father yelled once again.

“Nothing father.”

“I’m tired of your insolence.” The King’s hair began to flame up, “It has been decided, you will marry Princess Yayourozu and produce an heir. I hear her wielder mark is quite powerful and you two will be able to create strong children. After that, I don’t care what you do with her. If you disobey me then I shall teach your mother a lesson. She should have raised you better after all.” sneered the King. Shoto looked up at him and fear began to overwhelm him, his father has been known to do horrible things to the queen and Shoto would not have his mother suffer any more of that.

“Yes father,” the prince bowed his head down.

“Now, let’s continue to plan your debut. We only have two weeks after all.” smiled the King. Prince Shoto was kept hidden from the outside world. The King was paranoid that someone might try to hurt him through his son and for that reason, his son never saw past the castle gardens. However, now that he was 18 the King figured it was a good idea to unveil his greatest creation, and what better day to do it on than his son’s wedding day. Shoto wanted no such thing though, he just wanted to live a normal life. Although he knew he could not let his father continue his rule. More than anything, he wanted someone else to take over. Someone who could actually lead and be a ruler of the people. How was he, someone who hadn’t met anyone out of the palace, supposed to do that? He had one hope, a recipe that he tucked in his back pocket. After his father retired to his chambers, Shoto began to pack his things. Having a little too much fool-hardy courage, he wrote a note to his personal knight, Tenya Iida, telling him to protect his mom while he was away. He knew Iida would probably be mad, and felt bad for leaving his mom, but knew that this was the only way to solve this problem for good.

[ihavenoside]

Azalea: Who does your character wish would take better care of themselves?Bay leaf: What gives your character strength? Cattail: Is your character at peace with themself? Why or why not? Geranium: What’s one mistake your character remembers making? Iris: If your character could send one person a message, who and what would it be?

Flower And Tree Language Prompts || Accepting 

Azalea: Who does your character wish would take better care of themselves?

Without a doubt, Hank. He worries about Hank a lot and knows he should intervene but doesn’t for one reason or another. Mostly because while he understands the warning signs in humans and when they should seek professional help, he’s not really in a position to enforce it. It would act as a double edge sword because the right action would be to have Hank committed and be forced to deal with his depression, which is something Hank would likely not appreciate and blame Connor for, making Hank distrust Connor. So for Hanks well being the right action is seen as the wrong action.

This is something I learned recently thanks to a friend that works in that field. Considering Connor is very aware of Hanks suicide tendencies and has caught him more or less in the act of it. What Connor should have done that night when he found Hank on the floor drunk with a gun next to him, would have been to call an ambulance, the EMT’s might have seen it was an attempted suicide and after question Connor about it, would have learned the Hank had a cause for depression and would have been forced to seek help.

What Connor did instead, was rule it as Hank having suicidal tendencies, throw Hank in the shower to sober him up. Express, once again that Hank should seek professional help in which Hank yelled at him again for and Connor convinced Hank into going to the Eden Club because that is where the next deviancy report was. Connor is forced to work with Hank because without a human handler superviving Connor, he isn’t allowed to work on the deviancy cases alone, as per the loan agreement / Androids aren’t allowed to act without orders. Which is particularly bad because Connor doesn’t take orders from Hank, he takes orders from Cyberlife/Amanda. Thus putting his mission to Cyberlife above Hanks health. Which is already fucked and then Connor technically goes rogue when they are taken off the deviancy case, breaks all the rules a signed to him on Cyberlife's behave to find Jericho, making him a deviant before really becoming a deviant. Which is all sorts of messed up lol.

On another note, because seeking help for mental illness is dangerously ostracized today and even in-game. While Connor can see the signs in other’s he doesn’t see it in himself because he knows he’s an android and logically, Androids shouldn’t have depression or other mental related illnesses but they are designed to be carbon copies of humans. Which means if they can be provoked into attacking their owners, feel fear, as well as emotions and if not physical pain.(which if Connor falls during the hostage mission. his next unit does have a fear of heights, while mine hasn’t died) They are also susceptible to depression and other mental illnesses caused by and related to trauma but considering they can’t simply be medicated to fix the imbalance, it makes treating them so much harder. 

If anyone were to step back and remove the idea the Connor’s an android, they would see the signs too and if it was anyone other then Connor that found Hank that way. Without a doubt, Hank would have been committed but the system does seem flawed and Hank getting the help he needs willingly or not is as far as my knowledge goes on that subject. So Connor often feels like he’s failed Hank in one way or another because he was designed to be the ideal partner and he’s been far from an ideal one.

That was a long one and its only question 1. rip dash lol... Why am I this way??? but please take care of your mental health. :[

Bay leaf: What gives your character strength? 

I’m not sure if he has a source of strength atm and could be what's causing him to be sort of depressive. His greatest strength used to be his determination to complete his objective at all costs. That he was ruthless, unfeeling and obedient because he was a machine doing what he was designed to do. 

Knowing and realizing better now, he’s lost all those things about him because he no longer has any goals to fulfill, no one to guide him and since he’s his own person, he’s left to figure all of this out on his own, leaving him feeling lost and without a purpose. Which, he wouldn’t be the only android feeling this way in this new world, a lot of those who Connor had freed would likely feel the same way since they were never sold to anyone yet and went from being told to obey to being told they are there own person and to be free. What is freedom to those who have never experienced life?

Cattail: Is your character at peace with themself? Why or why not?

lol... no. He’s at war with himself and struggles to understand what’s wrong with him because he sees others enjoying themselves and having fun, being happy and he well... isn’t. He often finds himself acting more machine-like then a deviant and has no idea how to fix that aside from accepting that is just who is he and he’ll never outlive his reputation he’s created for himself. Which to be fair, people have the right to hate and judge him but he’s a lot harder on himself than people really see.

He’s drawn more to humans because they can empathize with him easier and he’s more at ease with them because they see him as simply a misguided machine who turned good? Humans tend to like him because he’s kind and helpful. Which to his credit, he was designed to be and enjoys being so because it gives him a sense of fulfillment that he didn’t get as a machine. With humans,  he’s freer to try and be himself because they’ll be more impressed with how lifelike he can be rather than his fear they will assume its a facade like he does with his kind.

With his kind, he’s seen as a monster and rightfully so. He’ll try to be kind and helpful where he can but he’ll often be met with distrust because he was designed to obey Cyberlife and was designed to take away androids freedom. He isn’t anything like his kinds designed purpose, which was to serve humans. He has little way to repair this image but to show in any way he can that he isn’t a threat. So he puts up with all sorts of verbal and physical abuse from his kind and doesn’t react because reacting can make him look hostile, making people fear that he will kill them and not reacting shows him as a machine like. There is little room for him to win and while he shows it doesn’t affect him at the time, it really does mentally later but there is no way for him to express how sorry he is for the things he was technically forced to do and no matter what he does, he feels like it will call for his termination. Which is a bit of a cruel irony because it was deviants that once lived in fear of dying and now that he’s a deviant, it's him that lives in this fear.

Lastly, he also sees he hasn’t changed much, that he can be just as cruel and ruthless as a deviant as he was as a machine. This is made obvious with how he treats 60. @head-shot-60‘s sixty to be specific. He’s tried being nice, he’s tried being mean, to downright manipulative to 60 to a point that his aim was to cause Sixty to deviate in one form to another but has somehow convinced sixty that he’s secretly Amanda. Which is fucking hilarious because it has Connor all sorts of conflicted now but this acts as a double edge sword again because pretending to be Amanda could get him information on sixty and Cyberlifes motives where is anyone, where to find out Connor, is Amanda... which he isn’t. Then he’ll have to accept the consequences of those actions and Considering he feels he has no one in his corner to defend him (even though he does) he isn’t willing to put up much of a fight to defend himself.

So Connor was just having a sense of humor and playing into Sixty’s sudden paranoia that Amanda is watching him, made up a convincing enough lie and now can’t decide if he’s just that good of a manipulator, his model series is gullible as fuck as a machine or if sixty is toying with him as much as Connor was toying with sixty lol.

He’s so at war with himself that he doesn’t know who he really is. A machine? someone who is alive? a manipulator? a monster? When all he wants is to be happy and be like everyone else. Which I feel so bad for him and love him so much XD I am a cruel mun but sometimes in life, you just don't get a break and while he does get breaks and does have fun in his own way. He’ll hyperfocus on other’s people's opinion on him and try and change himself just so he can be liked.

Geranium: What’s one mistake your character remembers making? 

All of them. lol. One that sticks out more then anything and would change if given the chance, would be prioritizing Hanks life over catching the deviant Rupert. Despite Hanks good odds at surviving, he’s not a monster and had faith that Hank didn’t need his help and was doing what he thought was right. Given how upset Hank was at his decision, it really makes him wish he hadn’t done that.

Iris: If your character could send one person a message, who and what would it be? 

I don’t think there is anyone that he can’t already contact if he wanted to. The only person that comes to mind might be Amanda but he has no reason to want to talk with her.

[imaginationxiii]

Headcannons for Aqua acting as a big sister/mother figure to a younger female friend of hers who has been hurt emotionally by others and struggles with fighting off the darkness

OHOHOHO thank you, anon, for sending our first Aqua request! Bear in mind, though, that for this event I’m writing Seeker!Aqua, or Aquanort, who I headcanon as very different from the blue-eyed Aqua we all know and love.

This ended up being one of my longer requests yet so I’m leaving it under a cut! Warning for a little bit of violence and general sadness. Oops. I told you guys I really wanted to write some angst~

+ When she’s first lost to the Realm of Darkness, your absence leaves a gaping hole in her heart, accompanied with those left by Terra and Ven. She spends the next decade wandering the void and the uncertaintly eating away at her. She may never know if or when Ven will wake up, if Terra will ever be free, how you will cope without her to watch over you

+ Her fears are not unfounded; those years are a tremendous struggle for you without Aqua’s familiar and comforting presence at your side. The memory of her gently patting your head and telling you to always smile is what keeps you going. The four of you would always be together, that’s the promise she made along with the Wayfinder in your favorite color. The charm never leaves your person, lest you turn into a shaking mess without your only physical reminder of the one who was family to you in all but blood

+ The fact that you’re still alive, over ten years later, defies all your expectations and explanations. It just feels like you’re going through the motions, a monotonous shell of who you used to be, ever since your light faded years ago. Another day that barely registers in your mind has turned to another night where you stare into the shadows with a haunted expression, consumed by its tempting whispers. That tiny charm clutched between your fingers is the only anchor that keeps you from drowning in the darkness

+ The voice that whispers your name is delicate, but you feel like someone just punched a hole through your chest all the same. Your thousand yard stare turns into one of disbelief as an eerily familiar form steps out of the dark

+ The long and agonizing years have turned her hair a shining silver but her face has been untouched by age. Those beautiful ocean-blue eyes have also become sharp gold, holding none of the kindness that seemed endless whenever she looked at you

+ Aqua only nods in response when you say her name, not even reacting to the crack in your voice. She lets you hold her as tightly as you wish while you sob into her chest. You thought you would never be able to look away from that face if you ever got to see her again, but you end up keeping your head bowed while you cry. The way she gazes down at you stoically is unbearable, but how can you ask for any more after how long you’ve been apart?

+ She notes that you’ve grown, but you haven’t gotten any stronger since she last saw you. All the progress she made with you has been undone, so now she’ll have to start from scratch. Her emotionless tone is… frightening, and you don’t know how to cope with that, but you know that you can’t stand to lose her again, so you frantically agree that you’ll try your best. Letting her down now would be… unimaginable

+ Your knowledge with the Keyblade before Aqua disappeared was scant, and you barely practiced over the years (every time you summoned it, you remembered the feeling of her hand over yours to show you how to properly hold a weapon, and that made your Keyblade more deadly to you than anyone you could point it at). She picks up where you both left off, but she’s merciless this time

+ “You have to be strong,” she orders you again and again. “If you’re not, the darkness will overtake you and you’ll fail.” There’s a rare flash of emotion in her amber eyes before she takes a fighting stance. “Like I did. I don’t want to see that happen to you. So I’ll do whatever it takes to make you stronger.”

+ There’s none of the nurturing that Aqua used to shower you with when you practiced with her. She’s still efficient with healing magic, as she casts it on you after training so that you don’t have any lasting marks. You both know well enough that your heart is suffering enough to see her as she is now

+ She isn’t downright cruel, but she’s not sympathetic either. Over and over, she will tell you how important it is to be strong and that you can’t ever give in. If you show promise and defy her with the little bit of light you have left, she’ll show her approval—even if it’s a husk of the warmth that you remember radiating from her. But if your light doesn’t get stronger… well…

+ You might have no choice but to submit to the darkness like she had to. It isn’t all that bad, Aqua tells you with a pained and bitter smile. Her hand runs through your hair with the same care that she showed ten years ago, and the twisted familiarity of it makes it feel like spider cracks are forming in your heart

+ Master Eraqus had it wrong about the darkness, Aqua says. Now that she is the Master, it’s her duty to guide you to the proper path. There is plenty of strength to be found in darkness. She’ll even give you a demonstration, tearing through enemies with her new dark powers. She fights like a monster now, completely different from the graceful yet fearless way she would dance across a battlefield. She has no reaction to the way you tremble as she stalks toward you after the battle—no, the slaughter. She merely puts a hand on your shoulder and says she understands that it’s frightening to see at first. But soon, you’ll understand the power that darkness has to offer. Until that time comes, she’ll keep you safe

+ Aqua’s final test is facing you against one of the people who hurt you in the past. Her training has left you plenty strong enough to well and truly kill them, and that’s what she intends for you to do. They hurt you, they deserve punishment for what they did to you. The line between justice and vengeance is thin, but if you’re strong enough to cross it, then you’re ready for everything darkness has to offer you

+ Resisting will just make her yell at you. It’s true, you hate this person and once you might have even dreamed of this moment. But now, looking at the woman who you loved like a sister and seeing what you could become if you give in, makes you want to keep this a dream and not reality. Aqua will raise her voice as she orders you once more to take back the pain and rage this person made you feel. Your heart will break and your eyes will overflow with tears, but you choose the light that she offered you so long ago

+ The glare in her newly golden eyes is something that will haunt you for the rest of your life, but she stops pushing you once you voice your opposition. Fine, she says. You might be too weak to embrace your hatred, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t. Her Keyblade appears in flash of shadows, and you’re totally hollowed out and refilled with horror as you realized what she’s about to do

+ Aqua’s wrath falls upon your abuser and it’s over before you can think to scream at her. She watches their heart fade and be consumed by darkness, refusing to turn around and see you fall to your knees. If your entire being wasn’t wracked with sobs, you would see her shoulders loosen in defeat

+ “I was wrong about you,” she whispers. You’re in too much hysterics to notice that she sounds close to tears too. “You aren’t ready for this. I… I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

+ She finally turns around, only to lightly tap you with a Sleep spell. You’re in no shape to get back home like this, so she picks up your unconscious form to take you back

+ There used to be so many nights where Aqua would be the last person you’d see before falling asleep, passing out on her shoulder or lap on many occasions. Aqua finds the will to fight Xehanort’s influence just enough that her own tears can flow as she tucks you into your bed. She never wanted it to be like this. She’s wiped away your tears before countless times, but they were never caused by her. There’s no way she has to right to do so now after what she’s become.

+ “Goodnight, and… goodbye, [Y/N],” she says quietly. “It’s for the better that we don’t meet again like this. But just know… that I’m proud of you.”

+ A pained hiss escapes her as the fragment of that older heart in her heart reinforces its influence, and she quickly pulls herself away from your bed as if she fears infecting you with it. She obediently summons a corridor to return to the other Seekers of Darkness. Before stepping through it, she takes one last, fond glance over you and engraves this memory in her heart

+ She may be frustrated with your ‘failure’, she might even envy you for having a stronger light than she did, but she could never bring herself to hate you. In the end, maybe she truly was wrong about everything. She prided herself a servant of light, and always feared your struggle with the darkness. Now it seems fate has deemed you more fit to be a Guardian and she was cursed to be a Seeker of Darkness

+ If that’s the case, Aqua hopes she can entrust you to the last little bit of light she has; the love she can still feel for you and her friends even now

[gingerxtrash]

As the years go on /6

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T

Magnolia has two sides, the good and the bad. There are those who are innocent or evil, or even in the middle. The most ruthless yet successful gang in Magnolia is Fairy Tail. The whole gang are best friends as kids but Lucy had to leave and had no chance to tell them. Four years later she came back, but will her friends still take her in? Nalu, Gruvia, Jerza, Gale MENTIONS DRUGS

Hey so I know the personalities have changed with the characters when it comes to the anime but I am just changing things up so the aspect of being in a gang is somewhat realistic. I know that I am not fully covering the personalities in the gang because I don’t really want to. I’m just writing with what I’m comfortable writing so yeahhhhhh. Please give a review and tell me what you think of my story please! Hope y’all enjoy.

---Lucy’s P.O.V.---

Meet me at the roof after class

-Levy

I keep going over the note that Levy gave me during class, pondering on what she wants to talk to me for. I’m not scared or anything, but I just don’t know how much longer I can stay away from them. I have always looked up to them and it hurts not being with them, pretending like I don’t even know them.

“Well, it’s been a while coward” I turned around to see the blunette in a sweater which compliments her small figures and a black skirt that ends right above her knees. “Well, what’s the answer, Lucy?” I’m a little taken aback from her comment because she was such a sweet and innocent little girl all those years ago, but things do change so I don’t really have anything to say.

“Tryna sound all tough, huh Levy?” I said as I glare back at her, not taking my eyes off hers. There is silence between us, I stand up and start walking towards her until I’m a few feet in front of her. Another moment of silence passes by and I can’t hold it in anymore. At that moment Levy and I burst in hysterical laughter. After what seemed like forever, Levy came and ran into my arms to give me a bear hug. I return the hug “I missed you so much Lev” I said, not breaking the hug. “I missed you too Lu, we all have missed you. So, there is no way that any of us would ever hate you.” Levy released me from the hug and gave me a smile with some tears forming in her eyes. I smile back at her also having some tears in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall.

“Although, why did you leave us? Why did you leave us for four years without saying anything? You are our friend and we have been worried because there was no trace of you anywhere.” I look down, took a step back and looked back up to her. “It’s a story that I can’t tell so please just understand that part” I said giving Levy a small smile. Not being able to tell anyone about what happened brings me so much pain. The pain of feeling alone, the pain of losing my parents, and the pain of seeing them die right in front of my eyes. No one can know of this until I get revenge on them, on Tartaros. What they have done is unforgivable and downright cruel, and they did all of this just to receive the Heartfilia secret. This secret is only known by Loke, Virgo, and me now that we are the only ones to protect it now. It’s not money, it is much more. It is something anyone would kill for, and my parents were finishing the work on it. They decided to give it to Fairy Tail once it was finished.

Since I am the only one to decide who to expose this secret to now, I need to be careful on who I reveal it to. I trust Fairy Tail with all my heart, but it is not the right time. I must keep it on the down low or else it will cause war between Tartaros and Fairy Tail and that cannot happen, I refuse for it to happen. I still need finish the work and until then, I will release it to Fairy Tail.

“If you say so Lu, but you will have to spill the beans sometime because I am your best friend” Levy said and gave me a wink. I just smile back and pull her back into a hug, “I missed you so much Levy, I wish I could tell you, I wish I could tell you everything but now is not the right time. After these four years I have never forgotten any of you guys. There was never a moment I didn’t think of you and everyone else.” As soon as I started to talk the tears started to come down. Levy hugs me back and rubs my back to comfort me, “hey Lu, how about we spend some time together after school tomorrow?” Levy said with a smile and I just nod at her and give her a smile.

We start to go downstairs to the vacant gate of the school just having small talk and suddenly I see a black Mustang pull up. The window opens and it shows a man with many piercings, without giving a second thought I knew it was Gajeel. “Long time no see Bunny Girl. Should’ve known that we would force ya to talk. Heck with that, Erza was planning on kidnapping you and taking you out to get strawberry cake, but Jellal convinced her not to so we could respect your request” Gajeel said with a smirk on his face. I laughed inwardly “Well hello to you Gajeel, nice piercings you got there”

“Gihe, of course they’re great. Sorry to cut the conversation short but the shrimp and I got some stuff to do” Levy glared at Gajeel for the nickname and puffed her cheeks to show her annoyance towards him. “Sorry Lu but I’ll see you tomorrow” Levy said skipping to the car and got in. I waved them off and then started to walk home.

I am surprised with today’s events. First Natsu stands up for me out of nowhere, Levy has me meet her on the roof, and now this. Wow, this really has not gone according to plan for not associating with them at all. It feels so good to talk to them, it fills in the void that once has been shattered. I finally feel like I am finally healing from what happened three to four years ago. I shake my head so I can focus on going home because Loke and Virgo will most likely have me go on another mission today, hopefully not though.

-a few minutes later- (spongebob voice…lol)

I open the door to see Loke sitting on the couch eating food watching football looking as if he is on the verge of falling asleep. I tip toe to him so he won’t notice me and whisper in his ear, “Virgo is punishing herself in her room”, Loke immediately stood up and yelled, “VIRGO HOW DARE YOU DO THAT WITHOUT ME”. He started to run to his room and didn’t see her anywhere so he returned to the room where I was.

“YOU TRICKED ME LUCY!!!” Loke yelled at me with tears coming from his eyes. I just am sitting there laughing my butt off and he is now calling me evil. “Princess, how was your day at school?”

“Uhh….So Levy kinda became my friend again…” I said hesitantly, not knowing how to feel about it. They just looked at me narrowing their eyes and not speaking a word which is making me feel uneasy…are they mad at me? I expect a yell from one of them because I was told to put myself on the down low. The silence is getting qui-, “HAH, YOU OWE ME 50,000 JEWELS VIRGO!!” Loke said pointing his finger at Virgo and laughing. Now I wasn’t expecting this…are they really laughing about this? “Actually Big Brother, you said within the first two weeks of being here she will become friends with them again, I said that within one week so I technically win the bet because my estimate was closer” Virgo said in a monotone voice looking at Loke. “COME ON LUCY! WHY COULDN’T YOU WAIT”, a sweat mark appeared over my head because I am confused as heck. “If you are that disappointed Big Brother, you can punish me” Virgo says as she shakes her butt towards him (like the butt jiggle gang would, not twerking).

Virgo stops immediately and gives me a serious look, “Lucy, he’s back”. I widen my eye’s knowing exactly who she is talking about….

‘No’.

---Natsu’s P.O.V.---

-8:00 pm-

Ever since yesterday I’ve been looking into the activities of the ‘Celestials’, yet there is only limited amount of information on them. This is surprising due to the extremely advanced computers we have, although there is one thing that I have learned for sure and that is the fact that they are going after the Tartaros gang. Not only them, but also the other gangs that they have made alliances with. ‘These people must be really crazy because even Fairy Tail doesn’t interfere with Tartaros’ I think to myself.  Tartaros specialize in killing, torturing, getting information from higher ups, and much more. Fairy Tail has nothing to do with them because they are too far away from us, so there is no reason for us to start beef with them. I hear that their leader Mard Geer is the worst of all, a madman who finds pleasure in killing the innocent. I have decided to contact Jura today to tell him about what happened last night at the warehouse and even he was surprised to hear about the Celestials were behind the operation. Sadly he didn’t have any information on them either.

I decided that I will do some more research before my mission tonight due to my Father insisting on me taking Wendy so she can start learning the ropes. She is not really a fighter, but she is very intelligent for her age and she can be a huge help due to her medical training. The mission for us is to exterminate a small gang that is in debt to us and selling off some information on us.

Right now, I am still researching because I can’t rest easy until I know who these people…’that blonde hair…. No, stop thinking such idiotic things Natsu, she hates violence so there is no way she could have any part in these crimes’. While thinking to myself I notice the footsteps that are entering the room, so I turn around to see who it is, “Natsu?”. To my surprise, it was a short boy with blue messy hair with a green backpack on. He is wearing a blue elbow length shirt with kaki shorts on with some converse. “What’s up, Happy?” I say to the blunette little boy who is one of my best friends in the whole world, a boy who I cherish so deeply. I’ve known his since he was born and even if we are not related, he is like a brother to me. He looks to the ground and says in a soft voice, “I heard that Lucy is back….” He said with a happy yet sad tone. Truth is that he always looked up to Lucy because she was so nice to him and would sneak him fish all the time, he really loved her and would always tell me to ask her to marry me. Remembering that memory made me chuckle to myself, ‘damn, I really do miss her’ I think to myself but dismiss the thought because I highly doubt things will go back to what it was before.

“Yes Happy, Lucy is back” I said turning back to the computer to avoid seeing Happy’s sad face. “Than why doesn’t she come visit us, why doesn’t she join Fairy Tail like she said she was”. I look at him with a sad smile, “because she is not ready, she blames herself for what happened. She never had to tell me that, but I can see it in her eyes”. Happy came closer to me and looked me straight in the eyes, “do you still love her” Happy said. My eyes widen a little, shocked by the fact that he said this to me even though I hate it when people talk to me about Lucy. “Honestly, I could never stop loving her. None of that will ever chance because I made that promise to myself, the promise that I will always wait for her no matter what” I said with a sad smile. “Than you should tell her” he said with a smile. I smile back at him, I just wish he would know that it wasn’t that easy. “Natsu, please promise that yo-“ Happy was cut short when a certain blue haired man with a red tattoo barged into the room.

“Natsu, I need to talk to right now!” Gray said in a very urgent voice. Happy decided to take his leave so I could talk to Gray privately, “What’s wrong Gray?” I said to the man. “It’s about Lucy” he said staring me down, “I know you don’t want us to interact with her, but this is very important.” I sat there shocked and tell him to proceed.

“Jellal and I followed Lucy home today because she was talking to Levy, when she got home we found out that she is living in a small apartment with Loke and Virgo. We knew that her family went bankrupt, but it is a little suspicious that they would move back to Magnolia without her parents. After searching for a couple hours, I investigated the files that contain documents about Layla and Jude Heartfilia, but what we found out was totally unexpected”. From this I was growing curious due to having close ties many years ago, so I tell Gray to proceed. “Natsu…Jude and Layla Heartfilia were killed three years ago” Gray said in a sad yet angry voice. My eyes widen at this comment and I just want to refuse this this, they can’t be dead, is this why Lucy doesn’t want to talk to us? “Do you know who killed them?” I said with anger starting to raise in my voice and my eyebrows are narrowing. Gray shook his head and said sorry. I gave a sigh because there is nothing I can do, “Gray, will you come along with me to take Wendy on a mission at 10, and will you bring Juvia along too” Gray gave me a nod and left the room so I can think. How can this happen so suddenly and all I can think about is how Lucy is doing because I know that she loved her family with all her heart, especially her mom. I’m not going to lie, I was good friends with them too and would constantly ask Layla if I could marry Lucy….such a persistant child I was back then.

I look at the clock to see that it is 9:30 so I go to my room to change into some new clothes for the mission which took me 5 minutes to get everything ready (yes, my family lived on the njsecond floor of the base). I wore black pants with my black jacket that had one sleeve, so it shows my Fairy Tail tattoo with my combat boots. Under my jacket I have two-gun holsters on either side of my shoulders just for caution, and of course to protect Wendy if she gets in danger. As I exit my room I see Wendy with her blue long hair ties up in a ponytail and is wearing similar clothes as me with the one sleeve jacket because we both had our tattoos on our shoulder. “Hey lil sis, you ready for your first mission?” I said giving Wendy a smile, I can see that she is nervous. “Of course, Natsu!” I pat her head and we start walking towards the garage in silence and wait for Gray and Juvia. I picked Gray because I can trust him the most if I’m not there with Wendy.

“Natsu…are you okay? I can tell something is bothering you right now” Wendy said looing at me in a curious was. I look at her and just give her a small smile, “I’ll tell you when your older lil sis”. *Hmph* Wendy puffed up her cheeks and stomped in the older way for my comment. Not long after that I see Gray and Juvia enter the room with similar clothes as Wendy and I.

We get in the car and start to head downtown to go to the Naked Mummy base. After 20 minutes we get out of the car and barge into the place where the people are just drinking a playing poker. They all turn to us and silence goes through the room, I feel the fear that is coming from everyone. I usually would just barge in by using a gunshot to get everyone’s attention, but I decided to leave this mission to Wendy.

“Where is Robert Cunningham?” I was a bit surprised to hear Wendy raising her voice to the crowd, maybe she will be better than I thought. No one answers but they just stare “I said, where is Robert Cunningham!” Wendy said louder than before, and her face showed rage. Wendy has always been good at acting so she can get her point across, but to me she will always be the innocent little girl. I’m not gonna lie that I see a lot of potential in her for when she grows older.

“And why should we tell you, you’re just a little helpless kid who carries bodyguards around you to look scary” someone said from the background and everyone starts to laugh at her. *BAM* Did I stutter at all?” Wendy said after she shot the man who backtalked her on the thigh. He knelt to hold his thigh in pain and blood starts to drip down his leg. Everyone was in silence, fearing the little 14-year-old.

“Well well well, the boss man has finally showed up. Looks like you still owe us a large amount of money” Wendy said to Cunningham. Everyone can easily tell that the boss is shaking from where he is standing in fear. I step forward and announce to the crowd that they should go unless they want to get killed and everyone left less than a minute.

“So Cunningham, Don’t you know what happens to people who go against Fairy Tail?” Wendy said while giving the man a deathly glare. “Please, please I will get the money soon. Please don’t kill me!” Cunningham said, pleading for his life now. Wendy lets out a sight and said “fine, but only this once. I suggest you say goodbye to Magnolia so get out of my sight”. Me and my team look at Wendy with a look of surprise, especially me because this is not part of the mission. The man thanks her and starts to run away *BAM*. Wendy shot the man but didn’t even look at him and started to head for the door. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that lil sis” I said looking at her with a smirk. “Jobs are jobs, and they went against our rules, so someone had to punish him” Wendy said while smirking back at me. “Hmph, she is the sister of the most feared man in Fairy Tail so of course she isn’t so forgiving” Gray said letting out a laugh. “Juvia thinks that Wendy is growing too much like her brother” Juvia said giggling to herself. Gray and I laugh at the comment and Wendy just stands there blushing. “Is there anything else we need to do right now?” Wendy asked me and I just shook my head in response.

On the way back to the car, I notice that we are not alone. I quickly grab my gun and turn around to scope the area. Gray and Juvia follow the same action and Wendy hides behind me in fear.

---Wendy’s P.O.V.---

I have an uneasy feeling right now, the feeling of guilt because I just killed a man. Yea sure he went against our rules in the gang, but I put a bullet through his head and must act like nothing happened. I hate the fact that this is what missions contained of, but I’m only doing this because it is my job as a member of Fairy Tail. I am not doing this to please anyone, but I am doing it to become strong in this dangerous world. I made a promise to myself that I will never kill a good person, and I will always follow that promise.

 *Clap* *clap* *clap*

“That was a pretty great show kid, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a little girl like you have that much spunk against some dangerous people” a blonde mysterious man said. He walks up and the street light shows his face that has black tattoos around his right eye and his muscular build. I suspect that this man is from another gang, but I don’t see a tattoo that represent it like most gangs have.

Even though I took out that other leader just a few minutes ago, I am scared beyond anything right now. I feel like I can’t move so I use Natsu as a shield, ‘what does he mean by another girl?’ I thought to myself. I see Natsu with his gun pointed at the man’s head, “Who are you and what is your reason to talk to us” Natsu said in a harsh tone, a tone that I am terrified of because it shows off his true dark side. “Oh sorry, I was just passing by, but I couldn’t help myself seeing some fairies at work” the man said with a devilish grin. I don’t know why but I am completely paralyzed right now, I feel like I’ve heard about this man somewhere, but I can’t remember for some reason. “Oi, if you’re looking for a fight I suggest you not to because we outnumber you” Gray said to the male with a death glare. “You’re Gray Fullbuster, right? It was an honor serving with your old man until we learned that he betrayed us. Hopefully he told you about the great and almighty Jackal. Well, when he was alive” Gray instantly became pissed and started to walk towards the man, but Natsu stopped him. “You must be a member of Tartaros, is that right” Juvia said because she was the only calm one here. “Oh hun, I’m just trying to start a friendly conversation right now but I’m sorry to hit a sore spot for you and your friends”. When Jackal called Juvia ‘Hun’, Gray looked absolutely pissed for calling her that.

“What do you want” I said as I try not to let my fear show through my voice which made the man’s eyes focus on me. “I heard that someone killed the leader of Neo-Seis so I came to figure out who it was. Some little birds have told me that some Fairy Tail members were seen at the warehouse area once it was destroyed.” Natsu stepped forward still aiming at the man, “Well that rumor is wrong because the building was already burnt down when we got there” Natsu said with his finger ready to pull the trigger anytime.

*Hmph* I guess I have to take your answer into consideration” the man lets out a sigh and starts to walk away. I look at Juvia in confusion until I see the man stop in his tracks from the corner of my eye. He starts to walk closer and pulls out a knife, “Maybe I should have some fun before I leave” the man said with another devilish smirk. He throws the knife at Gray, but he catches it and throws it back, scraping the mans shoulder. Natsu runs towards the man and hits him square in the jaw causing Jackal to fly back a bit but was stopped when Gray hit him sending him towards Natsu. Juvia grabbed my hand to run away but was stopped when a tall man with tan skin and blonde hair punched her and sent her back a little but she quickly rebounded and did a high kick that hit him in the face. She grabs her gun from the gun holster on her left thigh and shot him next to his ear, causing a hole on the earlobe. The tall man growled in pain, he picked up a brick from the ground and threw it towards Juvia’s head. Once it hit her, she fell unconscious and blood slowly slides down her head. I just stand there in shock and tears start to form in my eyes, I clasp my hands over my mouth and try not let the tears fall.

“JUVIA!!” Gray yelled, completely forgetting about the battle he was having with Jackal, but Natsu just continued fighting the blonde man with the strange tattoos. Gray knelt on the ground and held up Juvia with tears forming from his eye “JUVIA YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME SO WAKE UP!” I just watch in terror at them, I know at least she is alive, but I can’t exactly check on her position right now. I stand up and turn to the man, Natsu is busy now so I can’t just depend on others to save the day. “Oh come on Tempester, hitting young woman is so beneath you” Jackal said as he was fighting Natsu.  I grabbed my gun and pointed it towards the one called Tempester, but it was quickly slapped out of my hand by Tempester and he grabbed my neck and lift me into the air “Wendy!!!!” I hear Natsu’s screams but I can’t take a breath. Fear has completely taken over me now and I shut my eyes, ‘is this it, am I really going to die now?’

*BAM*

I immediately open my eyes and see where the shot came from, but I only saw a person in a black hood, leather jacket, black pants, and black combat boots. She shot the man right in the arm that was holding me and caused me to fall to the ground, “YOU B*TCH!!!” Tempester yelled as the others looked over for a quick second to see what the commotion over here was all about. Natsu focuses his attention on Jackal and the unknown figure was taking care of Tempester. I would originally observe the objectives of the people fighting, but now isn’t exactly the right time to do that. I rush over to Juvia to look at her injuries and Gray is there holding her in is arms telling her to stay awake and everything will be okay. I look at the two-fighting next to me, Tempester goes right in for his target but the person dodged the attack and kicked him in his groin. Once he was crouched over she grabbed his shoulders to knee him in the stomach, then brought him up to punch him in the nose. From what I can see, Tempester is in a lot of pain but he grabbed and pulled the leg of the unknown person to the ground. He gets on top but pauses with a surprised look but this gave the person enough time to reach for a gun.

*BAM*

In what felt like seconds, I see the man falling to the side with a lot more blood dripping from his head than Juvia. I just look at the unknown person and then I looked at Natsu who was still busy with Jackal, “You’re next to die!” Natsu screamed at the man and Jackal brought out three throwing knives (like wolverine). Jackal prepares them, aiming for Natsu but quickly turned to throw them in my direction. I can’t move, but I am willing to die if it means that my brother can escape. The blades get closer and I try to dodge them, but I know it will be too late. I close my eyes and realize my fate, all up until I feel warm arms pulling me into an embrace. Immediately I feel the person flinch, realizing that it is caused the knives entering the persons back. I hold the limp figure up to see who it is, but the face is hidden due to a black hood. Without thinking I pull the hood off, ‘No, this can’t be!!!’

“LUCCYYY!”

Dun dun dun!!! So this chapter is very suspenseful. I know that Wendy was scared but don’t worry because she will have some bad*ss moments in the story. I’m sorry for the pervy humor I have but I am not the person who can hold back jokes. Please comment and repost, if you have story ideas of what I should do feel free to because I want to make more stories after this 😊 I hope y’all enjoyed my story.

Chapter 1 https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173317577354/as-the-years-go-on

Chapter 2 https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173429902759/as-the-years-go-onch2

Chapter 3 https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173535087109/as-the-years-go-on3?is_related_post=1

Chapter 4 https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173708634179/as-the-years-go-on-4

Chapter 5: https://gingerxtrash.tumblr.com/post/173978019329/as-the-years-go-on-5-pairing-nalu-rating-t