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skellebonez · 3 years ago

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Who Do I Go To? (Monkie Kid Fanfic)

I totally did not accidentally post this early before I edited it or added everything from my wip file... no... but anon, you gave me so much FREEDOM with this that I just went absolutely off the rails. This is not only set in a post S3 scenario where everyone survives and most of the villains have some kind of at least semi-redemption (except LBD, rip), this does feature a crackship or two of mine (you can read the tags to see the ships before you read)! Sun Wukong also has all of his immortality and some of his powers, I am writing this with the idea that he transferred most of them to MK and some of that was permanent once LBD was defeated and MK got his own back.

So... what if Sun Wukong did start communicating with the others in S3... but still has been bottling up his emotions about the past for so long he doesn’t feel he can talk to anyone because of their shared experiences? And what happens when that guilt and grief finally has someone willing to listen?

“What are you doing here, Si-SUN Wukong?” The Demon Bull King asked slowly, stumbling over his usual insult for the one once so close to him. They still weren’t close, and it was doubtful they would ever be as long as the sworn brothers they once were, but they were no longer at each other’s throats anymore.

That didn’t change how bizarre it was to see The Great Sage Equal To Heaven just... sitting outside his new home with no warning.

“DBK!” Wukong exclaimed, more startled than the larger demon was expecting as he jumped up and turned and if he didn’t look like he’d been hit with a truck metaphorically DBK didn’t know how to describe the way his fur stood on end and the redness in the other’s eyes. “I. UH. Was. Just stopping by to say hi!”

“No you weren’t,” DBK said, face falling into a deadpan glower. “You don’t do that. Even after 500 years I know you don’t.”

“I can start!” Wukong defended, crossing his arms and looking away with a wide teeth showing smile.

Too wide.

Even after everything that happened between them, from Red Boy to what happened when he needed his wife’s fan to sealing him in the mountain and everything that transpired with the Little Thief, he recognized that unhappy nervous smile.

“You can,” DBK said with a nod, gesturing to the smaller being. “You can also be here for a reason. Like what I heard you muttering to yourself behind the door.”

“And that’s my cue to leave!” The Monkey King announced as he turned to walk away before a large hand, with shocking gentleness for the one attached to it, wrapped around his shoulders.

“If you need to talk-”

“No, haha, I most certainly have no need for that!”

“-you know we’ve already made peace. I-”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Wukong insisted, struggling only a little before freeing himself from the other’s grip with an even wider nervous smile.

“-am willing to listen.”

“Don’t have to!”

“Are you at least talking to anyone?”

Neither of them said anything, The Demon Bull King staring down at The Monkey King with both frustrated annoyance and genuine concern in his expression.

The former he could deal with, but the later was so new again that...

Sun Wukong panicked.

“.... OKEY BYE!” He yelled, jumping and allowing his cloud to catch him and take him off.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOREVER SUN WUKONG!"

"I HID FROM THE WORLD FOR 500 YEARS AND I TURNED OUT JUST FINE, I THINK I'LL MANAGE!"

“He turned out fine, he says,” Princess Iron Fan called from behind her husband as she emerged from their home. “So fine that it took him losing his invincibility and his successor nearly being killed for him to admit he needed help.”

DBK grunted, nodding in agreement at her words.

“He needs more, still, my dear. Even I can see that.”

“Let’s call in some reinforcements then, darling. I think there are two people who may be able to get through to him.”

Sun Wukong sat on the beach of Mount Huaguo’s island home, clearly trying not to think about what had just transpired.

“Hey.”

“How did you even know to look for me here?” Sun Wukong asked, not nearly as startled this time. He’d heard the footsteps coming for a long time, the other apparently wanting to make his presence known.

“Bull King called Pigsy’s asking for MK. MK called me since he’s working. I remembered where you like to sulk. Hence: I’m here.”

Wukong groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in them. “I shouldn’t have even left the house today.”

“But you left,” Macaque said with a shrug, watching the other stew in his frustration at himself. “And you went to see DBK... and I guess Princess Iron Fan too? But you ran off. Why?”

“I can’t check up on an old friend turned enemy turned less enemy to ‘not exactly friend but we’re not trying to kill each other’ without being questioned?” Wukong grumbled into his arms.

“Not when you make him sound as worried as he did when he talked to MK,” Macaque continued, voice becoming more tense. “You didn’t go to apologize or explain anything, I was there when all that went down. So... did you finally go to talk about everything e-”

“No.” The word was said with such coldness that Macaque knew it was put on. It wasn’t out of malice but something else, something more worried and fearful. “No. I can’t talk to him about... I told him everything that explained what happened. I apologized. I don’t need to talk more.”

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to to just talking about, you know... how you’re doing," Macaque said with a concerned frown. It almost felt odd on his face. Almost. He was still getting used to the whole "not being mortal eternal enemies and now being friends and kinda sorta caring about each other again" thing. "I know it's been centuries and all and you're out of practice but like... it's been centuries."

"I just... can't, Macaque," Wukong rebutted as he refused to lift his head from his arms. "I just can't."

"Why?"

"Don't."

The single word stayed in their air between them, heavy and hard and meaning more than the immortal would ever admit to.

"Come on, there has to be a reason," Macaque insisted as he sat down beside the other immortal. When no response came he sighed, tail flicking absently and flipping over some of the rocks on the beach as they sat in silence for few minutes. "You know... I started talking to someone."

"What?" Wukong turned his head, just enough to look at the other monkey from the corner of his eye.

“Sandy’s a good listener,” Macaque continued, falling back down to lay flat on his back and gaze up at the clouds. He remembered that Wukong felt better, sometimes, when you looked away when talked to. Didn’t know why, but he remembered. “Not exactly the kind of therapy he thinks I need, but he lends me his cats and he lets me talk and sometimes asks if I want advice. Sometimes I say yes, but when I say no he understands. Sometimes I just want to rant at that one little one eyed cat he has and she listened to... I think. She’s a cat so I wouldn’t know. He thinks I should see someone more experienced, an expert. Maybe he’s right, I dunno, but this helps enough for now.

“... who are you and what have you done with the Six-Eared Macaque?” Wukong asked with a soft glower, one that was clearly in jest from the tiny smile the other could see.

“Same Macaque,” the other said with a laugh, sitting back up with a theatrical flourish. “Just realized that talking to someone isn’t as dumb or useless as I made it out to be in my head. A lot of the stuff I thought about alone wasn’t exactly the best. Or healthiest. But now I can get that out there and sometimes it makes Sandy look like he ate a whole lime which probably means it’s good it’s not in my head anymore.”

“You ramble a lot,” Wukong said with a chuckle, tail swishing softly beside him before nudging against Macaque’s. He tensed before it slowly wrapped around the other’s. “It feels odd, having you try to cheer me up again after... everything.”

“Bad odd or good odd?”

“Good.”

“That’s.... good,” Macaque said, squeezing Wukong’s tail with his own. “Feels odd for me too. Like I’m out of practice too. But it’s good odd...” The two sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company before he continued. “I do think you should talk to someone. Anyone.”

“I don’t know who, though. Every time I try I just... clam up and run away. I’ve put so much on MK already,” Wukong said, tail squeezing around Macaque’s loosely in return. “And Pigsy and Sandy... After all that came out, that Sandy is Sha Wujing and Pigsy is Zhu Bajie’s reincarnation... I just... I can’t talk to them either, even though Pigsy doesn’t remember anything at all. And you... DBK... everyone... who do I go to that knows enough about me to know what they’re in for but I won’t have those memories floating around in the back of my head toward making me run away?”

“Well, you could have Sandy help you get a therapist. Prepare them in advance. Or, if you’re not ready for that, you could talk to Tang?” Macaque suggested with a shrug. “He listens to me when I’m not talking to Sandy... but that’s probably because we’re dating, that’s what it is now instead of courting, right? So he kinda has to I think? Pigsy and MK talk to him too but with me I think it’s different.”

"I don't think that's how it works," Wukong said with a half hearted chuckle as he finally raised his head all the way. "Besides, I've known Tang longer."

"By like 3 months."

"3 months more is still enough to know that if he doesn't want to listen to you he won't. The man knows how to make a speedy exit."

"Guess that's one more thing that sets him apart from his great-great-great-great-great-whatever uncle," Macaque admitted with a shrug and a chuckle of his own. He squeezed his tail around Wukong's, smile softening when he felt it being returned.

“Feels... weird though,” Wukong said with a shrug. “The two of them looking so much alike.”

“Yeah, but that’s it,” Macaque rebutted. “He’s Tang Sanzang’s great-whatever nephew 5 times removed or whatever and he looks like him. Other than that? He knows pretty much all of your history. He’s mostly out of the hero worship zone but he still respects you a lot. Aside from everything that happened with LBD and MK you two have the least history out of everyone so maybe whatever’s in your head making you clam up might not stop you. And it couldn't hurt to try. It’s not therapy, it’s just talking about something that’s bothering you. Worst that can happen is you get nervous and fumble and he takes the opportunity to ask you 40 questions about the times you were almost incinerated by a baby."

"That was one time!"

“Uh,” Tang started, staring out the open door with wide eyes at the being before him. “Hi. I didn’t exactly expect to you see today.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be here today,” Wukong said awkwardly, nervous smile taking over his face as his tone became far too jovial for what he was about to ask. “Macaque sent me to... talk to you. About me?” His smile drooped bit by bit as he said these words, slowly starting to lose his determination to go through with this. “Oh second thought, maybe I should-”

"No," Tang said, reaching out to put a hand on the immortal's shoulder. It was nothing, really, not to someone as strong as he was. Not when he could brush it off and walk away. Go home. Just sit on his couch and watch Monkey King The Animated Series again and just think about how no one deserved to be saddled with his problems anymore. But Wukong didn't. "Whatever it is, we’re going to talk about this now. I know I’m not trained like Sandy is, but I know how to listen. And if you need someone to listen to you, I can. You wouldn't have come here to talk if you didn't."

“... ok...” Sun Wukong said, letting Tang wrap his arm around his back and guide him inside his shared home with Pigsy and Macaque.

It was... odd. Being inside this place for the first time. He’d been outside of the door more than once, invited in as well. But never inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tang said, stopping his guidance once they reached the sofa. “I’m no Sandy, but I was making myself some tea and it is a batch of his own anyway. I’ll grab us some snacks too.”

“Snacks would be great,” Wukong admitted, watching the other disappear into the house’s kitchen before he sighed and gripped his thrashing tail and muttered to himself. “What am I doing..? I shouldn’t put all this on Tang... I should have gone with Macaque’s first suggestion, I’m-”

“Do you prefer lychee or persimmon?” Tang asked suddenly, startling the immortal for the second time that day. “We’re out of peach bao, but MK’s been making them out of lots of fruits and we have so many that I was planning on eating them myself.”

The scholar returned, faster than expected, with a full tray in hand. Teapot, two tea cups, and a steamer box that presumably held the buns he was asking about.

“Uh... persimmon,” Wukong answered, and he watched as Tang poured each of them a cup of tea and removed some clearly fresh (or at least made some time earlier in the day and freshly steamed), pieces of fruit laden bao to put on a plate for his guest before taking a seat in a chair across from him. “You were... getting lunch?”

Tang shrugged, laughing as he took a bite of one of his own. “Just wanted a snack. But,” He smiled, gesturing to the Monkey King. “We’re not here to talk about snacks. What’s on your mind?”

“Awfully forward start.”

“I try to be forward with the people I consider my friends.”

“... You consider me... a friend?” Wukong asked slowly, turning the bao over in his hands. It was well made, perfect he would say. You’d think MK would have been making them all his life, not that he’d learned how to on the drone ship while on the run from an evil super demon bent on erasing his mentor from the world.

“After everything we went through, how could I not?” Tang said, putting his food down to sip his tea and then putting that down as well and looking at him seriously. “You’re here because it’s the anniversary of the day you sealed away the Demon Bull King, aren’t you?”

The bao in his hands wasn’t perfect anymore. Instead the red lychee inside dripped from his claws from where they punctured it in surprise.

“How did you-?”

“My specialty study is your history after all,” Tang said, smile returning with a sad tint. “I’ve known the date for years but I felt it was something to keep to myself. For some reason. Now with you and DBK back I think that was a good choice. It feels too personal to have out in the open for everyone to make a spectacle of.”

“Is it selfish of me to be thankful for that?” Wukong muttered, gently placing the bao on the plate to lick his claws clean.

“I don’t think so,” Tang answered.

“I feel selfish though,” he continued, not managing to take note of how Tang sat up straighter and turned more toward him. “I went to DBK’s to... I don’t know. I wanted to apologize again? But I already did and he accepted it and it feels selfish to want to again. Then I just. I froze.”

“Why?” Tang asked, scooting closer.

“It felt wrong.”

“Because you would make him feel awkward?”

“NO!” Wukong groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just. I feel...” He took in a shaky breath, claws digging into his skin slightly.

“Don’t,” Tang’s voice came soft and closer than Wukong expected, as did the hands on his own slowly pulling his claws away from his face. “Don’t hurt yourself. And don’t bottle it up. I’ll listen to you. No matter what it is. It’s not selfish, feeling things isn’t selfish.”

“I miss it,” Wukong breathed out, shaky and choppy as his throat tightened as the words started to pour out of him. “I miss him. How things used to be between us and Iron Fan. I miss that I never got to meet Red Son when he was Red Boy. I miss Beng and Ba and Ma and Liu and how things used to be. I miss Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing even though they’re here. I miss my Tang Sanzang. I’d been alone for 500 years and I missed so much and I did that to myself and it’s selfish to miss like that...”

He didn’t realize his cheeks were wet until his hands had been let go and one of Tang’s rubbed a cloth against them. Tang cupped his cheeks softly before wrapping his arms around him and tucking the Monkey King’s head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“No... no it’s not. You’re allowed to miss things, Sun Wukong. Just like anyone else.”

Sun Wukong started to feel better.

He didn’t know why that was what did it, but the dam broke. It broke and his tears came pouring out as he hugged the man who reminded him so much of his Master. He didn’t know if anything he said in the mean time made any sense, if he was just blubbering and finally letting himself mourn what he’d lost and never had, but Tang didn’t ever chastise him. He let him weep and hold him and for the first time in years...

“Oh!” Princess Iron Fan startled as she opened the door to see who had knocked, finding herself face to face at sunset with one Great Sage. “You’ve returned.”

“Are you and DBK free?” Sun Wukong asked, smile no longer too wide. “I... kinda just wanna talk with you for a bit.”

“Well... I think that would be lovely.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #prompt fill #no ships #gen fic #hurt comfort #sun wukong #monkey king #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #dbk and pif #tang #technically tintedlenses is in here #and hinted freesquidinknoodles i had to add that in after THAT ART TODAY #but it's only a couple lines

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dumbhaikyuusimp · 4 years ago

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don’t. it’ll just hurt more.

eren yeager x fem!reader

words: 2326

synopsis: you go to find eren to get any details about what’s to come next.

warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, anger sex, shouting, dom!eren, just the smallest amount of fluff, spain without the s, heartbreak.

Live bait. That’s what you were sent as, basically. Sure, they called it “recon”. Find the camp of the Yeagerists, find Eren, and report back to the Survey Corps about what they had planned beyond the Rumbling. When it would happen, how they would start, things like that. But as the only member of the 104th who wasn’t dead, pregnant, or traitorous, you were the pick to go. Armin and Mikasa were deemed “too close” to Eren to complete this mission, despite the four of you being as thick as thieves from before you could remember. Eren saw Mikasa as a sister. Armin, a best friend. But he always had a softer spot for you. A crush, maybe?

That’s what Jean called it anyways. He was juvenile.

Hanji sent you because of anyone, you could get him to talk. Or at least, if you were caught, you were less likely to be killed. Hence why you were sure that you were simply live bait.

A lot of the searching was done by yourself on horseback, taking out the occasional straggler titan here and there whenever one approached, since no one really knew where the Yeagerists’ camp was. You searched in and around the forest, but something in you knew that Levi wouldn’t risk putting his own camp with Zeke anywhere near Eren’s. You soon approached an abandoned town, which looked like it had been abandoned for many years despite being within the walls and titan free. And there just so happened to be the faint glow of a fire and smoke within the town. It was a fair distance anyway from any Scout posts, and well off the beaten path, so they were well hidden. But you knew Eren enough to find him nonetheless.

You slid off the back of your horse just outside of the town limits, feeding her an apple from your pack before tying her reins to a small tree next to a small pond so she could drink.

“Good girl, Scooter,” you praised her gently, petting her mane gently before tugging your cloak around your shoulders a bit tighter. It was a breezy, cool night and the nerves didn’t help with the chills either. You were stepping into enemy territory, despite many of the Yeagerists having once been your teammates and friends. Including your childhood best friend. You then stepped into the town limits, the gravel under your feet crunching with every step as you tried to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to be seen, just wanting to get in and out with as much information as you could possibly get.

However, you were only one person. And while that would normally cater to your stealthy needs, a random straggler would be easily caught.

“Now, what do we have here?” a familiar voice mused from behind you as you got closer to what you assumed to be their main base in the town square. You groaned externally, and not quietly either. You were already caught so why bother?

“Hi, Floch,” you greeted him as you turned around, a sour smile on your face as you saw his cocky expression like he caught the crime of the entire century. What did piss you off is that he knew it was you, like they’d either been watching you or knew that the Scouts would send you. “Alright, I’ll cut right to the chase. Where’s Eren? I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not gonna do that,” Floch replied as he approached you, backing you into a wall. After all, he was armed and you were not. Your ODM gear was back in a pack and sheath on your horse, not wanting to deter any talks or negotiations with the presence of weapons. However, you would have loved your ODM gear to leave right about now.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of my face and take me to Eren right now, I’m gonna kick the shit out of you,” you warned the kid, eyes narrow as you stared daggers into him. Floch let out a chuckle before pulling out one of his swords, holding it to your neck. However, before he could say anything else, you heard someone approaching the two of you quickly.

“Floch,” a stern yet calm voice spoke up from beside you, and Floch immediately backed up and put away his sword. “Fuck off, will you?”

Floch nodded without a single word and hurried back to the town square, leaving just you and Eren standing alone in the dark street. The breeze picked up a bit, the sound contrast of your Scouts cloak and his baggy cardigan filling your ears as they blew wildly against the wind.

“Hey buddy,” you finally spoke, nodding at him. His hands were nonchalantly in his pockets, eyes devoid of any emotion as he just looked at you. “How have you been?”

“Cut the shit, Y/N,” he replied coldly, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “Why are you here? You’re not gonna get anything from me, so you might as well leave.”

“And why do you say that? What if I wanted to join your cause?” you shrugged. “I have intel your guys don’t know now that you’ve completely left the Scouts.”

He stared at you a little while longer before shaking his head again, approaching you and taking your hand a little bit roughly. “We’re not having a conversation like this out here,” he told you sternly, leading you into the building that you had been pressed against.

“Why not?” you questioned him once more. Seeing him face to face after so long made a bunch of unknown emotions bubble to the surface. “You don’t want your men to hear me chew you out? Yell at you for abandoning us, your best fucking friends? Huh, is that it?”

Eren slammed the door behind you as you continued to rant. The building you had been led into had once been a home, and the decorative plates still perched on some shelves shook as he did so. “You don’t want me to yell at you for laughing when Sasha died? Or for breaking out before we even had a chance to talk? Talk to me, Eren! Why?”

“Because I can’t fucking lose you!” he finally turned to you, screaming in your face. You stood your ground, not flinching as you were more than used to his anger. “I want to get as far away from you as possible so it doesn’t fucking hurt when either of us die because it’s fucking inevitable!”

You were silent for a little bit as he huffed, his face red and angry as he looked at you. His eyes were furious, but you were unsure if the fury was directed at you, or himself.

“You done?” you asked as if you were scolding a tantruming child, which is almost what he was right at that moment. “We can still help you, Eren. Trust me.”

He shook his head, the ponytail holder in his hair becoming loose. “You can’t fucking help me anymore. No one in the Scouts would take me back, not even Mikasa or Armin. And Mikasa is basically obsessed with me. I need to stick with this plan.”

“God, is everything about you? Always? You’re a fucking joke,” you snorted, moving around him to leave the house. You weren’t going to get anything from him at this point so you just wanted to cut your losses and go back home. He suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him, just so he could press you against the wall. He towered over you, placing one of his hands by your face and leaning close.

“You’re one to fucking talk. Eren, why did you leave me? Talk to me, Eren,” he mocked you.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face, and he grabbed your jaw to make you look at him in the eyes before locking your lips together almost furiously. You weren’t sure how you got to this point, since you were at each other’s throats not even two seconds before that.

But you weren’t complaining.

You forced your lips against his with equal force, the kiss filled with lust, fury, and longing. You could tell he had been wanting to kiss you since you were kids, had wanted to hold your hand and call you his, but all of that was gone now. There was no hope for your future. Or anyone’s futures. Not with his plan.

He unbuttoned your cloak, letting it drop to the floor as you shoved his cardigan onto the floor as well. His hands moved to around your waist, pulling you close as he tried to get your shirt unbuttoned. His hands were trembling, either from nerves or fury, so he resulted in ripping off your shirt instead. The buttons popped off, flying everywhere. You even heard one knock into a decorative plate, causing it to fall to the floor and smash at your feet. Eren’s hands then moved to your butt, picking you up with ease as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“What are we doing?” you whispered breathily as you finally broke the heated kiss, Eren now moving to the stairs and walking up them with you still in his arms. He was leaving kisses and marks down your neck now as you did so.

“Something we’ve always wanted to do,” he growled back to you, kicking a bedroom door open and practically throwing you on the bed. It was well slept in, the sheets clean and the blankets ruffled, and it was now clear to you that this was the house Eren had been staying in. “Our last chance.”

“You’re a fucking prick,” you told him, but he quickly shut you up with another rough kiss. He began working on taking off your pants, throwing them across the room. There was no getting either of you ready, the both of you were just too needy for that. Eren then got up, staring directly at you as he lifted off his shirt and tossed it aside.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll give you an actual reason to hate me. Shirt off, now,” he commanded, to which you easily complied. Eren pulled off his slacks, kicking them away before rejoining you on the bed. He, however, didn’t touch you for a solid ten seconds. He just...stared at you. Drinking in all he could of you in that moment, not wanting it to end before it even began. He then grabbed your thighs, pushing your legs back and moving the fabric of your soaked panties aside.

You didn’t say a word as you watched him, but simply reached for his hand and held it as tightly as possible as he slid into you. The two of you didn’t waste any time. Eren gripped the back of your head with one hand, your hand still tightly held in his other, as he began to thrust desperately and roughly into you. You were sure that his crew outside could hear your moans, but you didn’t care. This is something that you had been wanting for a while, ever since you realized your feelings a couple of years prior, and this was truly the last time you would get the chance to do this with him. Be close, pressed together with your lips against his.

“Y/N,” he grunted breathlessly, head buried in your neck as his thrusts became sloppy. “Y/N, I love y--”

“Don’t,” you whined, holding his hand tighter and now placing your joined hands between your sweaty bodies. “Please, don’t make it hurt more th...that this is our first and last time together…”

Eren just nodded, kissing your forehead as he continued to fuck you with everything he had. You wanted this moment to last forever, but of course, nothing did.

You watched Eren sleep soundly next to you as you sat up on the bed. You gently brushed his hair from his face, smiling gently at him. You wanted to stay with him. Every fibre of your being longed to just run away with him, leave all of this behind. But nothing could convince him to stop his plans. Not even your love. You leaned down, kissing his forehead before standing up. You got dressed once more, in all but your cloak. It was still downstairs along with his cardigan. You made your way there, picking up Eren’s ODM gear that he had and putting it on along the way so you could make a clean escape. You picked up your cloak, folding it nicely so the Scouts logo was front and centre as you placed it on the table. You then took his cardigan and shrugged it over your shoulders before leaving the house and Eren behind forever. As you made your way down the streets, zipping between the few buildings back to your horse, you couldn’t help but let out a harsh sob.

You had failed your entire mission to begin with, and also got your heart broken in the meantime. When you got back to your horse, you dropped Eren’s ODM gear there at the tree before untying your horse and getting on. You then dug into the pockets of Eren’s cardigan to warm your hands. Your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you pulled out a little piece of paper, and the curiosity persisted as you opened it to read what was there. You smiled a little bit upon seeing Eren’s handwriting, but also in amazement at what was there. A note to who you assumed was Zeke, to be passed through many hands to somehow get to him. A small snippet of the plan, enough to make Hanji ecstatic. With one final look at the town, you clicked your tongue as a signal for your horse. And just like that, you were gone.

#attack on titan #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren yeager fanfic #eren #aot #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #snk #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschtein #levi ackerman

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vro0m · 2 years ago

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vro0m’s rewatch - 108.1/301

2012 Abu Dhabi GP - PART 1 : QUALI

Disclaimer for this season. It turns out that I only have the footage of the race for a lot of the GPs (no build-up, no post-race content) so there will be way less GIFs unfortunately. I will let you know for each of these reviews if there are GIFs or not. THIS ONE HAS GIFS.

Alright so unbelievably this time I have pre quali, quali, post quali, pre race, race and post race videos which is a lot of content hence the two parts. Let's dive in!

(including a lengthy personal opinion rant lol sorry)

The championship is still open between Alonso and Seb. Seb has 240 points. Alonso 227.

Ah so apparently the McLarens are doing VERY WELL that weekend. Seb is having issues with his brakes but it seems to be fixed but he didn't get a chance to go for a run on the hard tyres.

We get a Mercedes segment. They haven't scored a point in three races... Schumacher says it's bad luck but also he admits they didn't evolve well throughout the year. Rosberg says his win in China of course isn't enough for the team, they want to be WCC, but it's a step in the right direction as they wanted to do better than in 2011 and they did. But yeah, the performance then dropped at the end of the season, the development wasn't great. We're reminded the team won with Jenson when they were Brawn. Jenson says they've added a lot to it since then. He thinks they're doing a good job but it's difficult to say of course. Cut to a quote from Schumacher we've heard already at the start of the segment saying the trend is not good throughout the year and it's something the team wants to improve on for next year. We see Lewis. Jenson says he doesn't know Lewis' reasons for going to Mercedes, "I don't think we'll ever really know, it's down to Lewis and his decisions. It's difficult to expect him to be winning grand prix consistently."

OK pause. First of all, Jenson, you're not winning grand prix consistently either right now at McLaren.

[Personal opinion rant]

But also here's a thing I have to say about good drivers who get good results. We've seen some drivers hopping from team to team and they seem to not find their rhythm anywhere even if they're good drivers (*cough* Daniel, Alonso *cough*). We’ve also seen teams getting rid of drivers after just a year or so because they’re not satisfied with their results (*cough* RedBull *cough*). Well I have a theory that a good driver makes a good car instead of just sitting in it.

Once you get a car that isn't a complete back marker, as a driver, you also need to put in the work to make the car fit you better and make yourself fit the car better. Blaming it only on the team and saying "the car just doesn't fit his style" is, again imho, poor excuses. Just as saying of a driver who’s already proved himself in other cars “he is not good enough for our car” is also poor excuses.

Of course it's always a little bit of both right? I've said it at some point : to win, you need to be a good driver, in a good car, with a good strategy. A bad driver in a good car won't win, a good driver in a bad car won't win. (And in 2022 Ferrari is demonstrating that a good driver in a good car can still lose, proving that strategy is indeed also key 🤡)

BUT. Making a good car takes development AND we know there's such a thing as driving styles. Making the car fit the driving style, adapting the driving style to the car, it takes time and dedication. That's why hopping from team to team in hope of landing in a good car by miracle is bullshit imho.

That's why being patient is important in this sport, creating the driver-car fit in parallel to developing performance takes time. That's what Lewis did with Mercedes, and what he's trying to do again now with the new regs. He's not giving up, he's not blaming it on the team, he's looking for ways to make it work for him. Drivers just getting a good car and winning consistently out of nowhere are outliers. Sure Lewis did so when he got to McLaren, but we all know he's not exactly your average driver. Sure such a thing also happened with Jenson and Brawn, but again, it never happened before and never happened since. It's really, really rare. And that's also the issue Schumacher had right? Both at Benetton and Ferrari, he didn't win right away. It took a few years to get in the zone. Then he returned to Mercedes and that didn't work out because these things take time and he didn't have that much time to do it.

(Btw Mika Hakkinen also said such a thing back in Singapore ‘09 when asked whether he’d return to F1 like Jacques Villeneuve was trying to do at the time : “No. No, no, no, no, no. I would not return back because obviously... To come to Formula 1, you know, it means you need maximum sacrifice, commitment, for your time, for your life to be successful and... And also the truth is, you don’t do it one year! You have to work with the team, you have to work with the car, I would say it takes maybe 4-5 years before you can really sit in a car which is made for you, so it’s a massive challenge.”)

[/Personal opinion rant]

Anyway. I'm not a 2012 Mercedes apologist either, one issue they have to work on at that time that's not in their drivers' hands is they have huge reliability issues. How many DNFs for Schumacher in 2012 again? (Note : total 8 in 20 races.) Lewis says it's good that they're looking at next year's car because it needs to be much better than this one's.

They talk with Norbert Haug about the car and Schumacher leaving but also Brundle asks him how he thinks the Lewis-Rosberg pairing is gonna work out. He says they had that before, good memories, in karting. He's rambling. Brundle asks who's gonna be fastest. He laughs uncomfortably. He says it's going to be interesting, they know that Lewis is a really fast driver who should have won his first title in his first year in F1. It’s going to be a close call, they have a great line-up, and then he goes on talking about Schumacher again.

Ah Toto was working at Williams at the time I hadn’t caught that yet lol.

Now they talk with Whitmarsh about their performance this weekend and he's cautiously optimistic. They've been fast on FP1 and FP3 but then FP2 and quali happen at colder times of the day. And of course Seb has had issues but he believes it’s quickly solvable but still, they hope they lock the front row. The journalist says Lewis is famously good around here because he's very hard and late on the brakes. "Apparently he's pulling nearly 6G on the brakes?" Whitmarsh confirms it, talks a bit about acceleration and concludes "he's pretty strong when he wants to be" (bruh what do you mean, shady). Jenson was probably the best performer on a long stint on options but Lewis, Seb and Alonso didn't get the opportunity to do such a stint because of traffic and Seb’s brakes issues. They're all very close. Massa also had a good long run.

Well despite what everybody says they're still working on Seb's car actually. With tape. Yep. Fixing brakes with fucking tape.

Skipping Horner, who wants to hear what he has to say... The sun is setting... And that's it for the build up, let's watch quali!

Quali session

Oh wait wtf. It's in Russian? 😭 Well that's fine we'll manage without comments I guess.

Q1 is under way. Kobayashi sets the first time : 1:43.939. He's immediately beaten by Grosjean and then Maldonado who's under the 43 seconds mark. Alonso is out... For now Maldonado is still the only one under 43 seconds. But Alonso goes 0.021 faster than him, while Jenson goes 0.056 slower. Damn this is really close isn't it? And Maldonado goes 0.199 faster than Alonso on his second hot lap! Lewis is on track. The RedBulls are still in the garage. Lewis is 14th on his first lap? Oh he locked up. He was quick until then. Alonso goes fastest again. Lewis is on another fast lap and it's a FAST LAP. HOLY SHIT he's under 42 seconds! 1:41.497! Let's goooo! Oh Seb touched the wall! He's 13th at the moment. But then he jumps to 5th. Both Alonso and Massa went under 42 seconds but it's still Lewis on pole right now. Now Webber is P2 in front of Alonso. JEV just spun. Rosberg goes P2!

And out in Q1 are : Karthikeyan, De la Rosa, Petrov, Pic, Glock, Kovalainen, and JEV. There's some incident between Perez and Senna under investigation. Ah yep, Perez blocked Senna.

Q2! Lewis doesn't lose any time and gets out early, just as Jenson and the Ferraris. And Di Resta goes for the first fast lap. Ah no, Perez actually. 1:42.313. Maldonado goes under 42. Then Raikkonen. Then Grosjean, and Webber. Lewis now in P1. Seb struggled again and aborts his lap. Here comes Alonso... P2. Seb again... P2. Grosjean... P5. Ohhh Webber P1 with 1:41.277 but here comes Lewis... 1:40.901!!! There's no touching him. I'll yell if he doesn't end up on pole.

Out in Q2 are : Ricciardo, Kobayashi, Senna, Schumacher, Di Resta, Perez and Hulkenberg.

And Q3! Raikkonen : 1:41.756. Grosjean is behind. Alonso is ahead, 1:41.582. But here comes Lewis... 1:40.630!!! I wish I could caps lock numbers. Jenson is behind. Webber is behind. Seb... P2. Everybody is back in the garage and Massa gets out. P6. Maldonado is the last one to set a time. P3. Last minute... Everybody is out again except Rosberg. Raikkonen goes from P9 to P5. Webber from P4 to P2. Grosjean is still P10. Alonso still P6. Seb is still P3. Jenson goes from P9 to P6. And Lewis doesn't finish his lap. He's on pole!

He runs and jumps on the weighing platform thing lol he's happy. Good boy.

Unsafe release involving Grosjean and Alonso to be investigated after quali.

Alright so the grid goes : Lewis, Webber, Seb, Maldonado, Raikkonen, Jenson, Alonso, Rosberg, Massa, Grosjean for the top 10.

Seb parked on the track?

Oh he's sitting on his car, he looks so dejected?

Just waiting for the Safety Car to pick him up, here it is. On the replay we see he's been told to stop the car. Horner says he doesn't quite know but there was an issue and Renault told them to stop the car.

Lewis says he's excited for tomorrow, it's been a long time since he's been ahead of the RedBulls. But it's gonna be very tough because they have great race pace. He hopes they are strong enough to fight them.

The team has done a fantastic job all weekend, the car has felt beautiful. He says he doesn't know why it works so well here as they haven't made any particular improvements, it just seems to suit the track. And the guys are still massively focused.

The long runs seem to be okay. He had a lot of traffic, but Jenson showed it was okay. On his side, he has to focus on the start of the race as the RedBulls are really good in the first couple of laps.

Seb confirms he doesn't know why he had to stop, he was just told to do so. His car is being unloaded from the truck. There seems to be an issue with the engine then. They have to prove to the FIA that it's seriously damaged enough so they are allowed to change it under parc fermé AND maintain Seb's position on the grid. Horner and Seb are not happy.

They're now dissecting Lewis’ pole lap and listen it's the first time it has that effect on me but this lap is genuinely so sexy. That might be the 2022 deprivation talking though idk. Georgie Thompson asks Anthony Davidson where did McLaren find that sort of pace all of a sudden? They seem so much more confident as a team, as a whole. He just points at Lewis' helmet on the screen.

"Just that man there?" she says. "I think it's him," he answers. They point out the differences between him and Jenson. Davidson says we've seen that a few times throughout the year, and Jenson has his own strengths but this track is a Hamilton track. Well it hurts a bit to hear that post ‘21.

It's his 25th pole.

Ted is still trying to find out what happened to Seb's engine. He says it might have been that he ran out of fuel and because it’s related to fuel pressurizing issues so it would be for Renault to know whether to stop the car or not. The FIA is going through the cars one by one so it's going to take a while for them to get to Seb's car and weigh it and see if there isn't enough fuel. If that's the case, Seb could start from the back of the grid like Lewis had to at some point this season.

#f1 #lewis hamilton #2012 #2012 abu dhabi gp #vro0m's race reviews

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www-artforoddballs · 4 years ago

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Alright, so notice. Most of you probably know this, since you're following me for the Autistic Levi stuff (thank you, we're closing in on 100 followers!!!!), but people with autism can have "tantrums". I've kinda touched on this in a previous post (it's a full meltdown, but you can see that post here https://www-artforoddballs.tumblr.com/post/644803780958879744/autistic-levi-angstkinda-i-guess-this-is-him). For those of you who DON'T know, an autistic tantrum is not the same thing as what you'd think of in regards to a toddler or kid, it's just the word used for it. This is a mistake my mother and I made when getting the paperwork done while I was going through testing that later got cleared up lol

I had a tantrum yesterday, and so I figured that I could post about Leviathan having a tantrum, since it's still ready on my mind. I don't care if anyone else is proud of me for coping with it as well as I did, since it's a major improvement from last time I had one, but I am proud of myself!...with that in mind, here we go!!

There will be some angst in this post, like the last post in relation to this one, but like the last post, it turns out fine.

However.

Trigger warning for things such as self harm, both physical and verbal. If you or a loved one is self harming, either reach out to someone for help or reach out to that person to help, yeah?

OK on with the post.

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

First of all, Levi's autism is part of why his brothers always agree to help when there's a raffle for tickets or something like that on the DDD messages, because he can get overwhelmed if they don't at least help, even if he doesn't win in the end.

They figured out that his autism was the culprit for this shortly after his diagnosis.

Now when I'm writing for Levi, I like to think that his diagnosis was around the early 1990s since, while autism was a separate diagnosis in 1980, it didn't really start becoming fairly accepted and expanded upon until 1987. Hence why everyone is mostly used to it by now, but are still sometimes off put by his odd behavior; for them, as beings that have been around since...the beginning of the universe, pretty much as far as we know, but for at LEAST since humans were around (so at VERY least 2.5 million years now, but potentially up to around 7 million years (if they haven't been around since the beginning of creation)), this would be like...I dunno, give me a second.

Waiting

Waiting...

Okay, so from 1990(earliest year I have in mind) to 2019 (the year it was released) is 29 years. That's a minimum of 1/86,206.89th of their lifespan, and a maximum of 1/475,862,068.96th of their total lifetime.

So this is a VERY recent development for them on the grand scheme of things, but I digress.

So they're still figuring everything out, especially as the human race continues to learn about the condition itself.

So the first time Levi threw a tantrum and they recognized it for what it was...it was certainly interesting.

What had happened was exactly the situation described; Levi had wanted to go to a concert in the human world and they were raffling off free tickets. Except, unlike now, his brothers hadn't offered their support. They hadn't in the past, why would this time be any different?

Except now they viewed it through a different light. Leviathan had an image in his head that he desired so badly and had asked his brothers to support him, hopeful, only to be rejected at every turn. That he was used to, but it was still upsetting.

He put that to the side, though. He really wanted to see this band, and these were VIP tickets where you got to hang out with the band for a few hours after the concert! They'd cost a LOT of human money, and while they COULD afford it, he knew Lucifer would be bringing hell down upon him if he used that amount of family funds on a concert. And his anxiety was already somewhat raised, so he decided to enter the raffle on his own.

He sat there for hours, waiting for the results to come in. He'd hyped this up in his brain the entire time; He'd win, go to an amazing concert, have dinner with the band, maybe even make some friends....!...and then the results came back. He hadn't won.

As per usual, our snek boi went into one of his rants about how unfair it was, but instead of going on a rampage or something like that, locked himself up in his room and cried, hating himself for getting so excited over nothing.

As I mentioned before, I've made another post about a tantrum/getting too overwhelmed slipping into something even more dire, as that's almost always what happens to me. This would be in the 90s, so this would be their first real incident with one of these moments where they had the proper diagnosis, so bear with me, there will be some angst here, but like the other post, it'll be fine.

So Mammon ends up feeling bad for rejecting his little brother, and, not knowing it was too late, decided to go to his room and offer his support. It was almost Leviathan's birthday anyways, and Mammon knew how rejection felt and how much it sucked. So, he knocked on Leviathan's door.

No response. He knocked again...still no response, but a quiet sob.

Right away, Mammon switched from semi-carefree to worried. "Levi...?"

Again, no response. He decided to just go in and check on his brother...

The door was locked. And he smelled blood.

"Leviathan, I need you to open the door," Mammon said with a half hearted chuckle, his voice now becoming slightly strained. "Because if ya don't, I'm gonna have t' break the door down."

"Just go away!" Leviathan cried from inside his room. "Just leave me alone, you jerk!"

"I ain't goin' anywhere. Either open the door or I'm gonna break it down. Those are your two choices."

A moment of silence, before Mammon sighs, stretching, as he transforms into his demon form.

"Alright, option two it is."

He rammed into the door repeatedly, before the wood finally splintered and fell to the ground with a loud thud. Mammon quickly looked around, eyes widening as he saw Leviathan digging his own sharpened nails into his arms, multiple raked wounds, made by the same culprit, carved into his skin.

"Levi...look at ya..." Mammon said, voice faltering, tears welling up in his eyes. "I...how long has..."

"Just shut up! Don't act like you care about me, I'm the freak of our family, remember?! I'm the one whose brain isn't right, I'm just a shut-in, good for nothing, re-!"

He was quickly cut off by Mammon going to him and hugging him.

"I don't care who you are. You talk about my brother like that again and I'll kill you. Alright? You're a little off, but you ain't a freak, and your brain works just fine as is. You're perfect just the way you are, and if anybody else says any different, I'm gonna beat them the fuck up. Including you. Got that? So what if you've got that fancy lable on ya now...? Labels like that matter, but it didn't change ya. You're still my cringe, annoying as hell little weirdo of a brother...and I wouldn't have ya any other way."

Leviathan fully listened to Mammon talk, before clinging to him, breaking down sobbing again, and trying to explain what happened through his tears, the older demon gently rubbing his back and allowing him to cry it out, making sure no more harm was done.

A while later, once Levi had calmed down, Mammon ruffled his hair.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? Lucifer is already gonna kill me for breaking your door, but he'd be even more pissed if I just left you here with those wounds."

So they did. And Mammon, after telling a VERY angry Lucifer what had happened hours later, had surprisingly NOT gotten chewed out by the eldest brother. Instead, that day, the entire family had a long discussion, and they all agreed that if it was something as small as entering a raffle, or even if it was bigger but not an inconvenience to anyone in the slightest, they'd all help out from then on. It's not like it was hard, and it would save Levi from hours of stress and negativity toward himself and others around him.

They also made a plan for if a tantrum were to happen while someone was around, or if he became too overwhelmed and started to spiral...because, as annoying as he could be, Leviathan was still family. And they loved him, oddities and all.

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

Alright, so...that was the post! I hope it was okay. I know I've written about this type of thing before a little, but different situations can end up with the same negative outcome, like being in an overwhelming situation, or not being able to change your thinking and not easily being able to get over your expectations. I've personally suffered with both, and it's a regular thing for me, so I like writing about it, because maybe, just maybe, it'll help someone out, or help someone that isn't autistic understand a friend or relative or classmate or employee better. And I love these characters, I really do. The only ironic thing is that I see so much of myself in Leviathan, but I adore him and despise myself. Go figure 😂

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed, and if there's anything you guys have questions about (in regards to me and my experience), or any specific writing requests, asks are fully open!

Thanks so much for being here to support me, you have no idea how much it means to a little oddball such as myself.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me belphie #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #autism obey me #obey me autism #obey me neurodivergent #neurodivergent #leviathan autism #autism #headcannons #obey me hcs

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teresa-moyocoyotzin · 3 years ago

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short recap of my thoughts on 5x09

okay so i was gonna rewatch the whole episode and do a blow-by-blow reaction post but i’m not sure i’ll have time and i kinda wanna focus on watching my fave scenes from the show before tonight. also, everyone else’s reaction posts p. much sum up my thoughts lol

nonetheless, i just wanted to give my main takeaways on the episode a week later, in case anyone cares where i’m at going into the finale! gonna go over the things i liked first, anyone who wants to just remain positive and not see any salty takes might wanna just stick to reading the first part b/c i definitely rant a bit at the end lmao. we’re still having a fun time tho 😂

THINGS I LOVED

- i mean... i think we know LOL

- obviously. i loved james and teresa’s i love you scenes, and kisses, and OOF THAT SEX SCENE. if someone had told me we were gonna get that scene back in like 2017??? i probably would have started literally floating. i totally respect that people had very specific ideas of what they wanted out of those scenes and could have different feelings about it but NOT ME BABES I AM ECSTATIC!!! i did go into the episode with a ~feeling~ that we were gonna get at least one ILY in the episode, and i just had a feeling it would be james, or at least that he would say it first. i’ve already explained in my meta about the scenes why i think it makes sense that he said it first and why i love it that he did, so i won’t go into that here. but i went in having really no expectations for it other than that it was gonna happen! i was debating about whether it would happen really casually while they’re talking, or in like a big action scene, or really dramatic or what, and what i would prefer, and i came to the conclusion that i would love it no matter what lol, but i was really into the idea of james just. fucking. saying it. while they’re just talking about something really casually. so therefore i was pretty happy with it when we got sort of a mix! they’re talking about teresa’s insane death trap of a plan so there’s that drama of “i don’t want to lose you esp. not before saying ILY” kinda thing, but it’s also just. so simple and sure! and then teresa’s i love you is like the perfect scene for me where one character is super focused on something else (in this case, trying to protect the woman he loves! agh!) and the other is just like.. i love you!!!! SO GOOD

- let’s see, what the hell else happened in this ep?

- oh okay i really liked james and teresa’s vibes this episode, they were so focused on each other and had this very ride-or-die feeling about them like they knew that each of their plans was increasingly stupid and desperate and might not even get them where they wanna go, but they were IN IT TOGETHER no matter what 😭i wish we had gotten a callback to that line but at this point, i’m p. sure they Know they’re in it together, and we do too. so it’s okay. i love that teresa still asks his input and considers his opinions even if she does her own thing anyways haha

- oh on that note, i LOVED the moment where their plans to kill Kostya aren’t working and Teresa says something like “If I can meet with him in person, I can kill him myself” and James just has this LOOK that just is the epitome of the “I am in love with a women who is DESIGNED TO STRESS ME OUT” meme lol, it made me giggle, v classic QOTS moment

- oh and of course, I LOVED that scene with devon and james at the end!!!!!!!! i was also confused about how james was showing all his emotions in that scene esp. since he tries to be stoic about his feelings for Teresa around Devon, but now that i’ve read a few people’s thoughts about, it i’m fully on board w the theory that james and teresa already knew this was coming, b/c they’re smart, and b/c james knows devon wouldn’t have let him walk away to save Teresa at the beginning of the season without motivation (like having him in place to kill her when she’s no longer useful to the CIA) and THEREFORE james was sort of “overacting” to make it believable to devon (and the audience lol) that he didn’t know this was coming, didn’t want to do it, but felt like he had to, rather than the fact that they were already plotting a fake death. that makes a lot of sense to me and makes me really love all the layers to that scene. it does give me a little bit of hope that the finale ~teresa’s not really dead~ reveal will be at least a little well executed and not just shoved in at the very end. we shall see though!

- alright i think that’s what i loved about the episode, if u don’t wanna hear me bitching about the little things then u should probably stop here!! just have to get out some of my saltiness lol

THINGS I WAS ANNOYED ABOUT

- i’m just gonna get it out of the way, yes, i too was supremely annoyed at the amount of KA and Pote take suburbia; it was all 1000% predictable down to the raccoon and the cookies, and the point could have been accomplished in exactly 1 scene, maybe 2, certainly not like 10 or however many we got. whatever. ugh.

- okay. OKAY. chicho. we need to talk about chicho. i for one, am not mad that he called pote, my boy was stressed. I AM HOWEVER, mad at the writers for making pote come back after saying he trusted chicho to take care of teresa now. like. it totally devalued THE WHOLE THING!! imo, pote shoulda stayed his ass at home where we had to watch him settle all episode, and chicho should have gotten THE HERO MOMENT HE DESERVED (esp. cuz he’s on first name basis w teresa now??) which ALSO WOULD HAVE MADE THE SCENE WHERE TERESA GIVES CHICHO THE DISTILLERY AND THE BAR SO! MUCH! MORE! MEANINGFUL!!!!! or just made it make sense at all? like .... i’m just so confused by that whole plotline like what was the point? chicho does nothing but call pote and gets T’s whole legacy in NOLA?

- and don’t even get me started on how it makes ZERO sense that pote would have had to charge in at the last minute to save teresa when JAMES THE SNIPER W AMAZING AIM WHO IS LITERALLY. IN LOVE WITH HER. is standing outside like. ur telling me james and chicho (who again, is supposed to be her #2 after james now) just stood there like “oh hey pote yeah you go ahead we’ll wait here good luck” like WHAT also.. how did pote get past all the guards that made james stay outside? are we meant to believe pote is that sneaky? y’all. it just. doesn’t make sense. this whole plot situation maddens me more than anythings tbh UGH JUST MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

- oksana’s daughter..... what’s her name again? idk b/c we only MET HER THIS WEEK....okay this amuses me but i’m also annoyed b/c like. there were so many other women who could have taken that spot in the opening sequence... Lil T, Castel, hell even Isabela??? Like idk how they could have done it but they put so much effort into her plot in the first seasons that i really thought she was gonna end up w/ Teresa in the end.. idk that would have been kind cool, Camila’s two “daughters” eventually working their way out of the life together..again idk how they could have realistically done it but i really do wish it had been someone we met before. if it had to be someone new this season, they could have introduced her earlier instead of one of the seemingly dozens of random guys we knew for 1 episode before they died... like.. give her some depth please. is she even gonna be in the finale? honestly she better be after making us listen to pote welcome her into the family... like the family u were supposed to leave so u could have an actual baby pote? the family that’s literally dispersing as we speak? also.. since when did pote love oksana so much anyways? also...... just.. if teresa’s gonna have some sort of daughter figure or whatever she’s supposed to be, wouldn’t it make sense to have her be the one to give the big welcome to the family speech? idk y’all..... i’m amused but also baffled at the sheer lack of planning behind this. did no one realize they needed someone for the opening scene until like. halfway thru the season? did they plan to have it be castel but they couldn’t get her for filming (hence all the weird castel plots?) INQUIRING MINDS WOULD LIKE TO KNOW. it’s whatever tho lol

- i just hope that what’s-her-name gets a lil bit of plot in the finale esp. since otherwise it might just be pote running around being pissy (i don’t actually think that haha but i am a lil nervous that teresa won’t come back until the last few mins and i’ll have to spend all episode looking at boaz and devon and pote and KA.. i haven’t looked at any spoilers tho so i’m still hopeful! i will probably make a post about my hopes going into the finale a lil later, both realistic and unrealistic :)

#ik it's all been said before but i just had to get my feelings out before i could move on to the finale #the finale!!! wow.. crazy shit y'all #qots #queen of the south #jeresa #qots 5x09

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

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hey so I had a quick question about twisted soulmates! so tim knows who his soulmates are, jason knows tim is his soulmate, damian thinks tim is his nemesis, but does dick know? do they all know about each other? love the story!!!

(2/2) I also love how you call ra’s a cheap kazoo at the end it really fits him

---

Hey sweetie! I’m glad you liked it. Twisted Soulmates has a very special place in my heart, it’s the first long-ish fic I wrote for the fandom and it’s received so much love, it amazes me. And yesss Ra’s totally is. I read that in a post I saw in Pinterest about someone saying that to “play someone like a fiddle” isn’t a fitting insult cause fiddles are hard to play and should instead say a kazoo, and I thought Tim would think so too.

So to clear the soulmate mess a bit.

….This got really really long so I’m gonna put it under the cut. Also, beware of spoilers of the possible second part!

Dick knows Tim is his soulmate, but it doesn’t get directly addressed in the fic by anyone else than Tim, and that was on purpose. Dick didn’t get his mark at the same time Tim did. Or rather he did, but he was in costume and didn’t see his own wrist, and then his parents died and the trauma kinda fucked things up and the name got erased. Like, he repressed the whole thing so hard he forcefully forgot about Tim and removed him from his own body. That is, until Tim went to ask him to be Robin again, and when Dick touched him he was bitchslapped by the feeling of the name appearing on him.

But the thing is, Dick is a young man, emphasis on the ‘man’. And this weird little kid is, soulmate or not, a *kid*. Dick is uncomfortable as fuck in this situation. He gets fond of Tim with time, they become friends and he mentors him to make sure what happened to Jason won’t happen to him, but he’s very carefully keeping him at arm’s length in anything soulmate related, because he won’t ever see a twelve year old as some romantic partner just because some cosmic force says he’s destined to be that. Maybe in the future, maybe not, but certainly not when there is this age difference that creeps him the hell out. He has his relationships with other people, which Tim respects because he doesn’t think he has any say on the matter, and they honestly love and care for each other (Tim is crushing hard but he’s a teen and Dick is his hero, that would be expected even without the soulmate thing), and everyone kinda turns a blind eye to the whole thing (except from some of the Young Justice gang, but that’s another thing entirely). Sure, Dick’s girlfriends (or at least the ones that are in the know) look a lil uncomfortable when Dick takes them home and they meet this tiny, starry eyed kid who does his best to be polite, but except for that it might as well be a taboo. The most Dick does is when any danger comes near Tim and he outright freaks out, like when he got Ra’s mark and he flew all the way from San Fran just to fret, but, again, the do love each other, so that might or might not be because of their bond.

Jason as explained gets the mark when he’s attacking Tim at Titan’s Tower. He already had the Joker on his other wrist, so there was no place for doubt. That’s why he left Tim alive, instead of finishing the job like he intended to. The second attempt on Tim’s life was made under Pit influence, because Tim rejected his offer to be his Robin, which Jason’s highly damaged mind translated to rejection to him as a soulmate, which in turn made him really mad, and… yeah. He *does* want to get to know Tim properly and apologize, he felt awful about it all once his mind got cleared up, but like… regret doesn’t just erase all the pain he brought his soulmate, a fact he’s perfectly aware of. So when shit hits the fan with Tim and Dick, Jason is away on a self-discovery trip with the outlaws where he works through his issues, hoping to get himself to a place from where he could start a new relationship with Tim (only if Tim is cool with giving him another shot; he’s hopeful but not going to press, the decision will be firmly in Tim’s hands). He doesn’t know about Dick and Damian, but he does know about Ra’s because he once heard Talia ranting about his father being too ‘soft to his nemesis’, which got him curious enough to investigate. It makes him feel even worse, because the poor kid’s nemesis AND soulmate actively tried to hurt him, which… is really fucked up. So Jason is a hot mess right now, but he’s on the path of redemption.

Damian’s thing was another mess altogether. Damian hasn’t met his nemesis yet (I’m still not 100% sure who is gonna be for him), so when he gets to Wayne Manor and gets his mark as he’s hitting Tim… well, the kid’s been groomed to think of his Father’s other kids as enemies already, its not too much of a leap to consider Tim, his direct predecessor and the one he has to live up to, as his ultimate foe. He also knows about his Grandfather having Drake’s name, so his proud little head gets a high at the idea of having the same nemesis as Ra’s, like some kind of validation to him, like he could someday be equal to Ra’s if he has his same nemesis. Tim tries to correct him, but he’s also busy dealing with the fact that a ten year old is another one of his soulmates, and a murderous one at that, so he’s probably not explaining himself as well as he could, and Damian walks out of that encounter totally sure that Tim is his nemesis (he didn’t see Tim’s wrist, so as far as he’s aware, he’s on the same wrist as Ra’s and thus Drake’s nemesis). He doesn’t know about Jason, but he learns about Dick later on, after he becomes his Robin. They are bonding one night and Dick tells him about his soulmate and nemesis (he’s probably trying to explain something about morals and whatnot to him using that as an example), and Damian can’t even suspect of Dick having it wrong, because the one he claims as his nemesis is one of his worst foes, and no matter how bad, Tim couldn’t be worse than him, so, by elimination, Tim IS Dick’s soulmate. This freaks him out, badly, and he does his best to avoid telling Dick about his mark, because he is still sure about Tim being his nemesis, and that means he is destined to hate the one dick is fated to love; Dick would never choose him above Tim if he was aware of this. He’d never love Damian more than Tim, and that makes the child in him even MORE mad at Drake because jealousy.

So by the time Tim says ‘fuck it’ and basically elopes with Ra’s, Dick is unaware of Jason and Damian; Jason is also unaware of the other two; and Damian only has half the information.

They will find out about the others though (and in Damian’s case, about Tim being his soulmate instead of nemesis), when they find out about Tim’s disappearance (he’s with Ra’s but he’s not exactly advertising it so not a lot of people know where the fuck he is) and join forces to look for him. But that will happen in the second part, if I gather enough brain cells to write it lol

Also, a bit about Tim, if you’re interested!

Tim knows they are they soulmates- even when things get twisted when Ra’s, who is his nemesis, treats him better than the people supposedly destined to love him. Its very confusing, and while a part of him is sure of it, the other is like… maybe Ra’s is his destined one, after all. In the end, Tim decides it doesn’t really matter. Ra’s can be his nemesis, soulmate, whatever- he’s taking him down, hence the last scene where he smiles at having deceived him. And Dick, Jason and Damian might or might not be his soulmates- he doesn’t give a fuck either, he’s not gonna forgive them just because Fate winks at him and pushes him towards them. Oh no, hell no. He’s basically giving up on love, soulmates and all that jazz. He’s gonna use his unique position to do his best to take Ra’s down, even if that means he goes down with him, because he’s a very depressed boy who only feels something when in immediate danger, and sadly the most danger he can be in is inside the lion’s mouth- travelling around the world with Ra’s.

This got really long, anon, sorry! Hope you’re having an amazing day!

#twisted soulmate #soulmate au #Nemesis au #tim drake #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Ra's al Ghul #My writing #answering anon

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pyxisblue · 4 years ago

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I’m Home

This is what could’ve been if Sakuya never had a chance at his dream.

|| A3!: Sakuya Sakuma // Angst: accident, family seclusion

Growing up in different households, even if they’re his relatives, Sakuya couldn’t help but feel...unwanted. For so long, he never felt he was ever part of the families he lived with despite the fact that they have some blood relations.

But family is not about being connected by blood. Sakuya learned that the hard way.

Nobody truly cared or even tried to form a deep connection with him; hence, he was passed to any household who’d take him up for the sake of family obligation.

This time, he’s with an aunt who couldn’t even subtly express her disdain for having another mouth to feed in her house, even though she lived alone.

He never asked nor begged anyone to take him under their wing, and if he’s to be asked, he’d rather be left to himself to fend for his own. But his relatives wouldn’t even allow that, saying something about being held responsible if he’s found dying on the streets.

The cherry-haired young man stepped out of the house just as his aunt went on a rant about how useless he is and how he should be thankful for whatever she’s putting up with him. This day, he resolved to find a part-time job, thinking it’s the only way she wouldn’t treat him as a burden at least.

As he strolled down the street of Veludo Way to check posters of job openings, he happened to pass by a dilapidated theater building.

“Mka” it said, with some letters missing in its big signage above the entrance.

A torn paper of what seemed to be an audition poster was posted on its board outside. Sakuya gave it a downhearted glance. He imagined what the building could’ve looked like back then if he ever saw it before its ruin. Maybe he would’ve pursued his dream of being a stage actor if fate has brought him here earlier. But that’s only wishful thinking now. It’s no use hoping for it when obviously, the theater already met its end.

He was about to step away when he noticed the door was ajar. Curiosity got the best of him, and maybe his desire to see an actual theater had taken over, that he found himself stepping inside even though it spelled trouble.

The young man’s eyes grew wide as he indulged in the view of the theater hall. Despite looking old and rundown outside, the hall looked well-kept even with a few cracks on the walls and the worn-out fabric of the seats. Overall, it seemed like it can still be operational.

Why would anyone abandon the place?

“Hey, kid. You’re not supposed to be here.” Sakuya almost jumped out of where he was standing when a voice suddenly echoed behind him. A blonde man wearing a pair of eyeglasses with a black coat was staring at him with threat.

That should be the cue to leave. But somehow, Sakuya didn’t want to.

“Leave now. We’ll be tearing this place apart in a few minutes. We don’t want any casualty in the process.”

He should just nod, leave, and forever forget this place as he move on with his life. He has no business being here anyway. Besides, he already got a look of the place he longed to see even in his dreams.

But why?

Why did his heart feel heavy at the thought of stepping out of here just before it’s about to be torn down?

This is the first time he saw the place.

Why did it feel like he knew it forever?

“What are you still doing there? Get out of here, or I’ll drag you out myself,” the man in black started to get really scary as his patience grew thin. But Sakuya had this determination to stay, something he couldn’t explain.

“The show must go on.” There was a whisper in the back of his mind. Wherever it came from, at this moment, he wanted to hold on to it because if he didn’t, he felt like he would lose something important, even though he didn’t know what.

“Uhm. Can I stay for just a few minutes?” He said timidly, still couldn’t point a finger as to what it is he was feeling.

“Huh?” This time, the man threw him a menacing glare. He was about to stomp his way towards him when Sakuya blurted out...

“It was my dream to become an actor.”

The older man halted on his tracks with surprise on his face. But it wasn’t long until it was replaced with a grim expression.

“Well, you’re many years late, kid. Maybe if you got here before it went down, then you might’ve had a chance,” the blonde man spoke in disdain, the regret in his voice sounding more of his own than for the younger one.

Sakuya could see the sadness in the man’s purple eyes through his glasses. He got the feeling that this person didn’t want to let this theater go either, but for some reason, he was the one to tear it down. His heart felt heavier.

“I’m sorry. I just want to experience standing on the stage even if it’s just for a short time,” he gave his best sunny smile to him. “I promise after that, I’ll leave.”

The blonde guy frowned at him for a few minutes then turned on his heel before saying, “Ten minutes. If you’re not out before that, I’ll tear this building down with you in it.”

Relief washed over the young man. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit giddy to have the place even for just another few minutes. He stepped down to the stage area with haste.

Before climbing up, he took in the view of the stage from the audience seat. Scenes of what it could look like during plays came to him, and somehow, they were plays with him in it.

He downplayed the thoughts as part of his wishful thinking, imagining it would’ve been like that if he joined a troupe.

Unable to contain his excitement, he helped himself up and stood at the center of the stage. With the dusty side curtain tied, he could see the full view of what actors see during their plays.

An overwhelming feeling of sadness came over him. Tears ran down his face as a ghost of a full-house audience replaced the empty worn-out seats.

“This must’ve what it felt like to act on this stage,” he thought to himself.

But it wasn’t just that. There was also this longing, this feeling of missing something he always had, lingering in his heart. Sakuya couldn’t figure out why the place felt so familiar.

Did his desires and wishes manifest as a reality within him that his heart couldn’t distinguish whether they’re real or not?

He tried wiping the tears away, but the stream just couldn’t stop.

“Let’s go on a journey together, Julius!” An image of him in a royal suit with a red cape appeared beside him, looking at someone he couldn’t see. “We can ditch this cramped town and travel the world together!” This version of him carried the lines with confidence and emotions, acting a little bit clumsy but trained.

Sakuya’s lips formed another smile. It was nice to see his self living the dream even if it’s just a daydream. But it bothered him that he wasn’t even familiar with this play he was imagining.

Julius? What character is Julius?

“Romeo, you’ve got the brawn, and I’ve got the brain,” a different voice resounded from the opposite side, and it scared Sakuya when he found no one there. But it didn’t stop, “If we put our heads together, we can do anything.”

Romeo? Was this some story based on Romeo and Juliet?

But who was this other person in his make-believe play? He gulped as he felt a little creeped out. Was this place haunted?

“Romeo? Romeo Montague?” There was an evident surprise in this unknown voice. A man in another royal suit with a blue cape appeared on his left, a person he’d never seen before.

“Forsake your house and name, Julius! Because we have even grander dream to share!”

As he thought, this was based on Shakespeare’s infamous play. The lines were a bit familiar, but he didn’t know what this Julius character was. Was he coming up with random story as he imagine himself in the stage?

“I can’t. I can’t forsake my family,” the guy in blue spoke with a convincing sadness.

Sakuya couldn’t take his eyes off the scenes unfolding right before him. It was like his imagination took off on its own and made an entire play to show him.

He could see himself interacting and exchanging lines with people he hadn’t met. This black-haired guy in blue seemed to be a co-lead. There was also this brown-haired one who acted as Mercutio, his supposed childhood friend, then, a different blonde man acting as Tybalt, brother of the other lead. A priest also appeared, someone who looked like a foreigner.

Clueless as to what was really happening, he watched as the play went on like he wasn’t on the stage. They sometimes went through him like he was the invisible one. It also occurred to him that somehow, Juliet’s character was turned into Julius and that the story was a different take of the popular classic.

His mind still couldn’t process what was going on, whether this was just a dream or a borderline illusion, when another play begun. This time, he was wearing a cat costume and was talking to the same guy in blue who is now called Alex.

Was this Alice in Wonderland but with a male protagonist?

The scenes seemed to fast-forward as everything moved in thrice the speed of time. Eventually, another set of faces entered, none he could recognize, and somehow, he saw himself watching in the backstage area with glee.

The speed of events went another notch that he couldn’t keep up anymore. They played as if they were his memories, playing in hasty flashbacks.

Terrified of the peculiar phenomenon, he unconsciously stepped back from it, wanting to get away, until he found himself falling from the stage.

But instead of meeting the ground, he fell into an abyss of darkness.

It was an endless pit of pitch black. Sakuya thought this must be the end of him. This nightmare must be him finally dying under the rubbles of the theater being destroyed after his time was up without him realizing.

As he was being pulled down to whoever-knows-where, flashing scenes appeared on his sides, showing moments of a life he never had: him dragging the same guy he was with in the play to school; him saying “I’m home” with a wide smile as he was welcomed with a lot of people smiling back to him, telling him “Welcome Home”; him reading a script in a practice room with other people exchanging lines with him; him talking to three other guys in a living room like they were discussing something important; and there was him, talking to a woman who looked at him with pride and fondness.

They were faces that felt so close to his heart, but he still couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

It was like he was with them forever, and not with the relatives that never wanted him.

It was like, with these unfamiliar strangers... he was at home.

Home.

It’s a word someone can describe as a place where family is.

But in his case, ‘family’ was not even what he has right now.

There was a pang in his chest as the scenes of this other life continuously played around him. He was falling into this loop of memories he knew he didn’t have but showed how he was a big part of.

The pain in his heart had made his tears ran again.

The thought of not having the memory of being in them made his heart drop faster than he was into this never-ending hole.

An unexplainable emptiness spread within him. A desire of having these illusionary moments become real bloomed in his heart.

He wished and hoped they were all real...

That in the real life, he has a family to return to... a home.

His eyes shut closed as he tried to whisper a silent prayer...

A prayer that was answered as he opened his eyes.

When he lifted his heavy eyelids, his vision opened to a white ceiling. Everything was still blurry, and he couldn’t seem to move his body. He could hear a repeating loud “teet” sound somewhere, but his senses were still disoriented. An oxygen mask was covering his nose and mouth which made his heavy breathing easier.

“What happened?” was what he wanted to ask, but no one was around to answer.

He tried to rack his brain to get a clue. However, he could only remember the part where he was falling into a black hole. The trail of dried tears on his cheeks was evidence of the nightmare, but it told no tale of how he ended up motionless in bed.

The door swung open, revealing one of the persons he saw in those flashing memories. She was struck with surprise and halted in her place, still holding the door knob.

“S-Sakuya-kun. You’re awake!”

The brown-haired woman approached him with haste. He felt the warmth of her hands through his as tears started forming in her eyes.

“I thought...” Her words were followed with a quiet sob, his hand held to her forehead.

Another person came in, seemingly in a rush after hearing her exclaim. It was the same man in eyeglasses who told him to leave the theater in his dreams.

“Sakyo-san, he’s awake,” she said smiling while her tears continued to stream.

His expression was far from the same threatening one Sakuya remembered. This person has a relieved smile that it almost seemed he’s about to cry as well when he approached the woman by the bedside.

“Stop crying now. You’re going to scare him,” he said in a soft tone, patting her back gently.

“It’s just that... I’m happy,” she said after wiping the last of her tears. A wide smile formed in her face in contrast of her swollen eyes, “Welcome back, Sakuya-kun.”

Despite his difficulty to move, he used all his might to open his lips and said, “I’m home... director.”

And it was in that moment when he really felt he’s back at home, where he belong.

After that, the people he met in his surreal dream appeared in his hospital room with food, gifts, and objects that would keep him occupied.

His troupemates were the first and came the others on the succeeding days. Izumi made it her role to be his guardian and was always staying in the room to take care of his needs. Sometimes, Sakyo, or Sakoda, came in so that the director could rest. Tsuzuru often dropped by from work to see how he was recovering. Citron was always telling him adventurous stories like he used to. Chikage continued their daily coin toss. Itaru introduced him some games he can play for whenever he’s bored. Masumi didn’t usually come by due to his busy university life, but when he did, he brought him books. He even gave his troupe leader a headset to use, so he can listen to music as he waited for the day when he’s finally discharged.

Even though everyone showed how happy they were that he was finally awake, it didn’t slip past him that they were completely devastated when they found out he was in an accident. It was a whole three months for them, waiting and hoping he would come out of his comatose state. Summer, Autumn, and Winter plays went by and everyone, especially his troupe members, were dreading they had to do a Spring play where he won’t be able to appear.

The thought of them having a play without him made Sakuya feel like he was pulled back to his nightmare, to the world where he didn’t join the troupe and witnessed the Mankai Theater’s end, to a life where he didn’t have anywhere to belong.

It gave him an anxious feeling of losing the place where he finally found home. This reality he woke up to was very pleasant: he’s living his dream as an actor, he’s part of a company he can call his family, and the place where everybody is waiting for him to return to is what he could call home. But to lose all of these...

He stared at his hand, sitting on the white bed as the passing raindrops casted shadows over it.

It still felt surreal for him, that he’s here, and the fear of waking up to another reality came along with it.

What if he wakes up again and he finds himself back in that life without all of these precious people?

“Sakuya-kun?” Izumi’s voice brought him back to his senses, and an automatic smile appeared on his face in an attempt to not make her worry, but the director didn’t miss the sad look he had, “Is something bothering you?”

He stared at his hand again, afraid he’d start disappearing if this was another illusionary dream, and then looked back at her concerned face.

The young man started pouring his heart out, telling her about his nightmare and his anxieties. The director sat beside him and listened attentively.

“It must be silly of me, but I feel like everything could disappear in the next second,” the dark sky outside the window seemed to also loom over his heart.

“It’s not silly. You know, that’s how we felt when we found out about the accident,” his head whipped to her direction, but her eyes were already set on the depressing scene beyond the window, “It felt like we took your presence for granted.”

Sakuya could feel her words heavy with regret. He wanted to tell her how he felt loved and cared for with them, but he wanted to hear more of what she had to say.

“We were used to having you around, smiling brightly, and working hard like you always do. But when the days passed by and you weren’t around because you weren’t waking up, we couldn’t help but recall the days when you were. We didn’t know until then that we could lose someone that easily in the next second. Everyone tried to go on normally, but none of us couldn’t hide the worries and fears we had if ever you...” Her voice cracked, and her fists clenched over her lap with frustration.

If she was his aunt or one of his relatives, she wouldn’t feel this way. They wouldn’t even glance his way if he ever died. To them, it would be a relief of burden from their shoulders.

“Thank you, director.” Sakuya wore his usually bright smile which caught Izumi by surprised. It was the smile they all missed to see.

“No. Thank you, Sakuya-kun, for coming back to us.”

“Of course I came back! You are my family, after all,” the happiness he felt spread to the director, chasing all the fears she had. Relief came like a calming breeze to embrace her heart, reminding her that finally, Sakuya was back and well.

With a light heart, Sakuya counted the days until he was finally back to the dorm. On that day, when they arrived, Sakyo parked the car while Izumi accompanied him to get inside.

Once he stepped in the door, there was a loud pop in the darkness and suddenly, streamers flew in the air as the lights were turned back on. Everyone was there in the entrance to shout, “Welcome home, Sakuya!”

The scene made him tear up. He had this overwhelming emotion with the warmth of welcome spreading through his chest.

“Ah. This is what family is,” he told himself as he looked at the smiles on the faces of the people who are all part of his family.

Before anyone starts to worry, he rushed to wipe his tears with his long sleeve. Then, he met them with a beaming smile and proudly said, “I’m home!”

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

I thought of this while I was listening to Avril Lavigne’s Innocence and Taylor Swift’s Innocent. Both reminded me of Sakuya. This was supposed to be just angst, but I don’t want a tragic end for the boy who deserved everything. ;_;

I’m glad I was able to turn it around.

Also, I used this as an entry to #a3enfirst event facilitated by the Twt account @a3anniversary, with the concept “found family”.

Hope you enjoy~

#a3! sakuya #sakuya sakuma #a3 fanfiction #a3 angst #a3!#a3 #a3enfirst #found family

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years ago

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Ranting time: Throne of Glass series

Now I usually don't rant about books, mostly I just share what I liked or what it lack, but this time, I can't possibly keep my opinion to myself. This is not a post to start an argument unless respectfully, of course, this is simply for me to write my opinion out of me before I pull anymore of my hair out.

Before all, I'd like to mention that I love Acotar, the story line, the characters and almost everything even the flaws of the story, but Throne of glass- I'm beyond frustrated right at this moment.

Now, I have an above average reading speed. Getting through a 700 pages book isn't difficult for me, let alone a 500 one. I read, I comprehend, I imagine, I finish. Easy task. Or it should be. The fact that it took me a day to get through 220 pages, made me pull my hair out.

Quite literally actually!

Minor spoiler ahead!

So, I'm on book three/four depending on how you read it. I did not finish it yet, I'm only on page 220 of Heir of Fire which contains 6 POVs; Celaena, Chaol, Dorian, Manon, Sorscha and Aedion, but I'm already frustrated.

I usually don't have a problem with different povs because if it connects the story from different angels, I'm all here for the extra info, character development and introduction of new characters who I'm ready to love or hate.

But!

But having povs of people who I have never heard of or barely know, telling me stories about hundreds of years without any action happening is doing my head in. I want to see action, I want to see Celaena working through her ptsd, I want to see how she is coping. I want to see how Dorian is dealing with his magic, how his relationship is with Chaol and how Chaol is dealing with all that happened in book 2. Background stories of someone I don't know, won't capture my attention. The story should be pushed forward by the characters not the other way around.

Instead, I get povs from Manon, who I love, don't get me wrong, but when I started reading her parts, I haven't got a clue how it interconnected with anything. Then it started to make sense, but these scenes in my opinion shouldn't just be added so randomly, but should be a part of the main plot. At least one of our main characters should meet a new character before we consider writing their pov. Until I personally get to like or hate a character, I will not care about the character's background or struggles, because I have no connection to them. Hence the reason why I preferred Aedion's povs. We got a glimpse of him before his povs started.

Then came Sorscha with her puppy love for Dorian. If I had known her before and had some sort of a connection to the character, I would have been all over the place, enjoying the scenes. They weren't badly written, but I had no interest in her infatuation with the prince when I have been waiting for some action and didn't have any feelings for her character.

Finally some action happened when it came to the wyvern choosing by Manon and Celaena's encounter in the forest, speeding up the plot, but then again we slowed back down. 220 pages and barely anything happened. Useless conversation, useless scenes and barely anything that actually adds to the storyline.

All these povs keep changing and I'm barely on page 220. I can not keep up with all these jumps between characters and by the time we get back to another pov I forget what even happened. But the most frustrating of all is that it slows down the pace of the book so badly that I have literally been pulling my hair in frustration. I have put down this book at least 30 times over the course of the last day. Once again it is just sitting beside me, because I had to type down this review before I decided to throw a tantrum over a book like a kid.

I was told that it would pick up and things would flow better, but if I can't get past these parts, I will never get to the part where it "picks up". And if the parts where Manon and Celaena had their little action is the "picked up" part, then I'll keep pulling my hair. At this point, after finishing this book, I think I will take a break and just read a quick novella, because by the end of this series, I'll be bold from all the hair pulling.

#throne of glass #heir of fire #sarah j. mass #review

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officehrs · 3 years ago

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i had a dream about r that felt so real. 😔 VERY long post excuse me ,, if u read, feel free to analyze or tell me to shut up fkfnkfnfd

i dont remember anything about how it started but the first thing that really happened was that i was on a site on my laptop in his class, solving some sort of "riddle",,,, i read it to myself aloud very quietly trying to process it, when r came up from behind me and whispered a small fragment of the sentence into my ear so breathily and slowly?? like "hmmmm [breathes] how how how [breathes] do we do thisssssssss" ... i mocked the gesture back to him when he was done (bc admittedly it WAS super weird for him) as he sat down. its important to note he acted cold towards me in a way, and seemed really different.

he asked me "so, what is it youre doinggg", the same way he said stuff before. i read to him the context of the question on the site and he understood somehow. immediately, he pulled out his phone (which was an older black samsung instead of his iphone??) and began typing an email with all the answers and an explanation. while he did, i subconsciously leaned myself against his shoulder and his whole left arm, before he began to adjust his shoulder as if to shake me off. i sat in the back of my chair, slightly saddened by his gesture, but i didnt want to push boundaries.

it only took 10 seconds and when i checked my email, it was at least 6 pages worth of text. i was super confused as to how he typed so fast!! but he didnt really say anything about it. i scrolled to the end and found he wrote about "forgiving" (idk what to call it, i didnt do anything bad HFKFJFJF) something i had done in real life, hence why this dream felt so real. he gave me an extra assignment in the email and wrote it on a white board on the wall, with a smiley face next to it 🥺 i didnt notice it until later though

i dont remember the context but HE STARTED BRUSHING MY HAIR?? it seemed like he didnt think anything of it, so in my head i was like 😳oh my god ,,, AND I WAS THINKING OF POSTING ABOUT IT ASAP ON MY ACCOUNT GJFBFNF it felt incredible and i didnt want him to stop, and he didnt for some time ,, he played with my hair a little and kept brushing bffnndn and he said stuff while he brushed in that same breathy tone and it made me Lose My Mind

then, he stopped and some stuff happened idk but i sat back down at my usual desk,, he had put a movie up on the big smartboard at the front of the class, and somehow sent us a multi-pic instagram post to look at, which was a quote from some revolutionary about going against our oppressor (🧍NDNDNDMDM) ,, i found some problematic part at the very end, which at this time he walked past my seat, walking around the class as usual. i subconsciously looked to be in deep speculation, and i felt him look down at me, and my screen?? but i didnt look up, as he seemed to be breathing in the same kind of deprived tone as before. he was still walking, though very slowly. it was somehow quiet in the class except for the movie, so his footsteps boomed throughout. somewhere at this time is where i noticed the smiley face on the board, and thought it was very sweet!!

then, the final bell rang for the day. everyone got up, including me and r. i grabbed a black acoustic guitar he just had on display in his class, and went to the cafeteria, waiting for my ride to get here (which i dont do irl?? anyway) ,, on my way there, in the hallways people were talking about the movie they watched in class, and some people were sad they missed out on seeing the insta post ,, i noted it in my head, and i kept on my way to the cafeteria.

i made it there, and found a corner to stand in. the whole place was kinda packed?? i guess it was bc some teacher/staff person was giving a speech right as i was walking into the cafeteria. he said, verbatim, "he said 'im just gonna get a whole fuckton of money and then save it all' and now look at him! hes dead! that motherfucker is dead because he didnt know how to save his shit!" which i found very weird, of course. everyone was quiet during this, and it may have been out of shock too. i was most particularly shocked by the fact that a bunch of staff was lines up near this lecturer, but didnt twitch or bat an eye at all. like they were ok with this???? something very different from irl

when the little rant ended, everyone went back to talking to each other. i began quietly playing the guitar, as i had no one to speak to, even though i did know the person i stood next to. the people who stood around me stopped talking after a few seconds, most of them watching me. unintelligibly, the person i knew asked "you play the sgrhgsuejfk?",, i assumed they had said "guitar" and after careful contemplation for like 10 seconds, i said yes. they didnt reply, so i kept playing as they watched.

some person to the left of me, standing kinda far started annoyingly asking questions towards us. they wouldnt stop, and started targeting people to ask their dumb and strange questions to. i quit playing and walked right up to their face, saying repeatedly "if you're gonna harass anyone, let it be me. why dont you harass me instead? go ahead, ask whatever. harass me, not them." i dont think they were genuinely harassing people post-dream, but thats how i felt and thats how i stated it anyway. after 10 seconds of shouting at them, the person started asking me the question, and as i was about to answer, i looked down at my phone (which read 7:50) and said "i gotta go anyway" ,, i needed to return r's guitar back to his class, so i left the cafeteria, with the person i knew following me, i think.

the hallways seemed much different. i was looking around for r's classroom, confused, and it seemed to become a maze of sorts of unlabelled, windowless doors. instead of looking for his classroom, instarted looking for r himself, wandering around. and i found him!! but he gave me a cold glance as he looked behind himself before closing the door he just opened. as a result, i went to a door parallel, across the hallway. i opened it and it lead to a dark, dimly lit hallway full of several other doors. i was very disoriented, and kept going through random doors. i found r again several times, only for him to enter through another passage of doors, coldly. eventually i found my way out of the maze, and the person i knew reappeared to the right of me, talking to me. we conversed about our day, as i tried to figure out how to get to r's classroom. the school seemed to have a different layout, one that was continuous, unfamiliar, and yet i felt as if i had a sense of direction. the person didnt comment on it, only they followed me wherever i went. we went up and down floors, made it back to the cafeteria, and as we were going up again to try to find his classroom (realizing we went the wrong way) the dream ended.

this was very strange 🧍

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gunnerpalace · 5 years ago

Photo

(These asks were reordered from bottom-to-top to top-to-bottom for clarity.)

Alright, so the first thing I want to say in response to this is actually best summarized in the form of a song:

youtube

You are somebody that I don't know But you're takin' shots at me like it's Patrón And I'm just like, damn, it's 7 AM Say it in the street, that's a knock-out But you say it in a Tweet, that's a cop-out And I'm just like, "Hey, are you okay?"

And I ain't tryna mess with your self-expression But I've learned a lesson that stressin' and obsessin' 'bout somebody else is no fun And snakes and stones never broke my bones

So oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh You need to calm down, you're being too loud And I'm just like oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh (oh) You need to just stop Like can you just not step on my gown? You need to calm down

I would like you to seriously reread what you’ve written here (and copy-and-pasted to others) and tell me that it doesn’t come across as more than a little obsessive and psychotic. "This may seem like hate, but it's not," you said anonymously, before going on a rant to strangers on the internet whom you had nominated as the representatives of "you guys." Sure, okay, Heather.

Well, regardless, let’s go through this. First, you don't understand 685/686. I've been over this before several times, but I will go over this one final time, as simply as I can. That said, I can't guarantee that you will understand it when I do. I was unable to successfully tutor 1st graders how to do addition because my perspective was, "Either you understand it or you don't," and I don't have the background in math to make such a simple concept exciting. The same might be true of this, because there is no way to critically analyze these chapters more succinctly than this, and so you still might not get it.

The point of 685/686, thematically, is that absolutely no one got what they wanted.

Renji wanted to surpass Byakuya. He remains Byakuya's Lieutenant and has to settle for being under his sister (figuratively and probably literally too) who now also outranks him as a Captain.

Rukia wanted to reform Soul Society into a more humane institution that protects all souls. It is the same as it ever was, and if anything has doubled down on its practices by rebuilding the Soukyoku (on which it tried to kill her) a hundred times larger, and she is one of its main wardens.

Uryuu wanted anything but to be a doctor, ever since he watched his mom being autopsied by his dad. He is now a doctor, and all alone at that.

Chad promised his grandfather to never hurt people with his fists. He is now a boxer, doing exactly that for money.

Orihime wanted to go out and have several different exciting careers. She is instead a stay-at-home mom.

Ichigo wanted to save a "mountain full" of people, be Superman, leave Karakura, and be a Shinigami. He instead appears to run Isshin's clinic now.

So, yes, you are correct: Kubo chose that Ichigo wind up with Orihime. It is exceedingly clear, from the context, that this is absolutely not a good thing.

That point is further reemphasized by Yhwach’s threat to come kill Ichigo and everyone else when they are at their happiest. And when does he reappear?

When Ichigo saw Rukia again.

Not when Ichigo asked Orihime out. Not when they started dating, officially or unofficially. Not when they were married. Not when she gave birth to his son. Not when his son said his first words.

Not when anything happened with Orihime or Kazui, but when he saw Rukia again.

That is your “Kubo-sensei” telling you directly that the happiest moment in Ichigo’s life was just simply seeing Rukia again, and not anything involving Orihime in any capacity whatsoever.

All of that should tell you that Ichigo and Orihime’s relationship is not exactly the stuff legends are made out of, because them winding up together is explicitly portrayed as a downer ending. A bad ending.

If you cared at all about the characters—if you cared at all about their desires, or their happiness—or if you cared at all that IchiHime was presented as even merely good, let alone destined or fated or whatever else, then you would be offended by this ending too.

Because the ending is “Kubo-sensei” straight-up unequivocally telling you that IchiHime is bad and tragic. It is something that one must demonstrate “courage” in the face of. It requires stoicism. It is a bad ending, but that’s life. That’s what the ending means.

He did you dirty too. You just don’t want to see it, because you are so obsessed with the concept of “winning.” Well, this was mutually-assured destruction: everyone lost. Especially you.

Moving on: no, Kubo doesn’t really get attention or money from us. I’m not really sure where this idea comes from.

I’m not an expert on Japanese intellectual property rights and licensing, but I know enough about them in general to know that very little if any money goes to Kubo personally from ongoing Bleach merchandise sales. For example, KLab more than likely has a contract with Shueisha (representing Kubo, hence why they’re put together on BBS’s title card), TV Tokyo, Dentsu, and Pierrot, wherein they pay those entities a fixed amount to license Bleach per year or per contractual term. It’s not like Kubo is making money off of every orb purchase or every figurine sold or something. These things don’t work like that.

As for attention, he’s still hiding from social media (for reasons of his own, unrelated to the fandom), and the people who give him attention are... you. People like you. “True Bleach fans” who can’t stop treating all his shit like it’s solid gold. We have made it fairly clear we don’t need him or care what he thinks.

Regarding BBS, maybe you haven’t noticed, but the majority of the imagery they use is IchiRuki-focused. The last title screen was IchiRuki. The Guild button is IchiRuki. The Events button is IchiRuki. The Chronicle Quest button is IchiRuki. Here, I’ve helpfully highlighted this for you:

While they do occasionally toss IH a bone, the last January event also ended on an IR note despite the ridiculous crowing about it being IH. While I’m at it, even the current supposedly “IH” title screen is anything but.

It doesn’t take Michelangelo or Da Vinci to figure out the composition here is not terribly suggestive. While Rukia is indeed off to one side, the fact Uryuu, Zangetsu, and the title card are between Ichigo and Orihime (and they’re looking in different directions) makes it pretty evident that they’re not being visually associated together. It is at best a “general” title screen. Uryuu is showing more visual interest in Ichigo than Orihime is.

I’ll come back to “the anime” in a minute. Let’s talk about their “tag-team move.” Do you mean the one that ended like this?

This one that didn’t work whatsoever?

This one where Ichigo wasn’t concerned at all that Orihime might be dead or dying as she lay there on the ground?

This one where he absolutely gave into despair?

How romantic. Truly, what an excellent battle-couple they make. Their combat effectiveness and synergy is just astounding. I for one would love to see it animated.

(Let’s not forget that later, Orihime can’t repair Zangetsu without some nonsense shenanigans from Tsukishima either. Just like how her healing abilities are useless against any sufficiently strong residual reiatsu. Ah, but that would require reading the manga closely...)

Finally, on to the idea of the anime returning. Here’s the thing: news about a trailer also doesn’t really mean anything. Sure, it could be TYBW. Or it could be The Honey Dish Rhapsody. Or it could be a thousand other things. I neither know, nor particularly care, what it actually is, on top of my explanations as to why animating TYBW would be a dumb business decision.

Here’s why: even if it is a TYBW anime, it will have to be an adaptation of TYBW. They will still have to follow the plot of TYBW. And TYBW was a pile of shit. It wasn’t just a pile of shit for IR, it was a pile of shit in general, and a pile of shit for IH in particular.

Perhaps you don’t recall that Orihime spends most of the arc off-panel, having been ditched in Hueco Mundo for most of it (chapters 500–586)?

Oh, but just think, you wouldn’t just get to see the Ichigo-Orihime “tag team” attack totally and utterly failing! You’d also get delights like:

Orihime and Chad utterly failing to believe in Ichigo! (Just like in the Xcution arc where it was demonstrated that Byakuya was a truer friend to Ichigo than either of them!)

Orihime being reduced to a pair of tits, each bigger than her own head!

Ichigo totally ignoring Orihime!

And who can forget the delight of Orihime selling out her dignity to dress slutty at Kisuke’s suggestion to try and get Ichigo’s attention, only for it to not work at all?

Yes, truly, TYBW would be a fantastic arc for IH that would surely win over the populace and convince everyone of the chemistry between these two characters!

Except it wouldn’t. Because they have no chemistry. And they didn’t. See, what’s really funny is that not only did TYBW not give you anything, but it was just following up on the Xcution arc not giving you anything.

Because ORIHIME VISION was played for laughs, just like say, Shuhei constantly is.

Because despite Chad and Orihime being about as important to Ichigo, he couldn’t even bother to say bye.

Because he just didn’t have time to deal with her bullshit.

I could go on, but this post is already long enough.

You see, you’re real keen to dismiss "all the scene or poem shit or parallel or the hell else thing," but the truth is, that’s all there is to a manga. It is panels of art and text on a page. The rest is just in your head. And it is from those panels of art and text that animated scenes and spoken dialogue would be created. And the funny thing is... there are no IH moments in these arcs. They simply don’t exist.

So really, what you’re hoping and praying for is not just for TYBW to be adapted. Given your evident thirst, I doubt that the perhaps 5–10 minute epilogue of 685/686 at the end of 4–5 seasons would be enough for you. You’d need the animation team to decide to sprinkle in a whole lot of IH filler along the way too.

That didn’t work out so hot for the Xcution arc. How did that one end again? Oh, that’s right: they made up their own (better) ending for it. Are you really willing to bet your money on a TYBW anime going out of its way for IH, if you even get it? Or would you really be satisfied with those 5–10 minutes? Are you really so sure you’d even still get them?

Ultimately, I don’t care. You’re blocked. But, I will say this: in a way I almost kind of pity you. It seems really sad being a militant anonymous IH, desperately and eternally craving outside validation. You have so very little to cling to. It must be hard.

Good luck with that, Heather.

#Asks

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missfiatlux · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5

read on reddit

Down in the Nightlife, Plutonium awoke.

“Sir,” said the messenger who had woken him. “I am sorry to report that instead of the two damned souls we were expecting, we have received 108.”

Plutonium’s face transfigured in wrath. “What the hell? Do these people think the Nightlife is some sort of ultra-adaptable cloud cuckoo land? No! I’ve got a fucking schedule to run, budgets to balance, vendors to pay, and various deities to appease! I’m under immense stress, and these Daylife folks think they can just up and die any fucking time? I’m half a mind to turn them away, but noooo, ‘we can’t let dead people wander around through the Daylife, it’s bad for morale.’ Who the fuck cares about the fucking Daylife? Not me!”

Plutonium repeated this rant nearly every day, only varying where he placed the profanity. As such, it had somewhat lost its scariness.

The messenger began again. “Sir, reports say that the change of plans was caused by a single individual, a boy-vampire named Axel Johnston. He caused his car to briefly grow aerofoils and fly over the Grand Canyon. At the same time he caused a plane carrying 108 passengers to spontaneously detach from its wings and fall into the canyon. That’s where most of the damned are from.”

Here was a problem Plutonium could solve. “Put a bounty on Johnston’s head,” he bellowed. “Five hundred million! Dead or alive!”

“Sir, are you sure? This Johnston character seems awfully powerful. Perhaps he can help you regain favor with the gods.” The messenger felt, for the first time, that he was extremely smart.

Plutonium stroked his chin. “Excellent thinking. Make sure it is clear that the bounty will be awarded only if he is captured hale and hearty.”

The messenger nodded and dashed off. Later on that day, signs went up all over the Nightlife, signs with Axel’s face (a creative rendition by the messenger, replete with horns and a mohawk), and information about how to collect the bounty. The souls of the damned observed these signs with interest. Being dead is not all that gripping, after all.

***

Drip. Drip. Drip. Hubcap listened to the persistent dripping of water out of the gutter, as she gazed at a newly posted sign on the wall. Down in the Nightlife, the air always smelled damp, and frequent fogs rolled through. Hubcap had never seen it rain here, but anything that stayed down here long enough would eventually get soaked by condensation. The sign was already wrinkling in the humidity, as was Hubcap’s white tuxedo. Dew was forming on the hellhounds’ slick black fur.

“FIVE HUNDRED MILLION FOR AXEL JOHNSTON, CAPTURED ALIVE,” read the sign. The picture showed a boy with a mohawk and two horns. Hubcap snorted. This was clearly a creation of someone’s fevered imagination. In her years of experience at bounty hunting for the Nightlife, it was quite common for the pictures on the signs to bear little or no resemblance to the person they were aiming to depict. While this initially caused her great confusion, she had now learned to contact Plutonium himself for the necessary details.

Other details about Axel included that he was a vampire, and extremely dangerous. Apparently, he had killed 108 people in a plane crash. This was either exaggerated or completely misrepresented. Hubcap tore the damp sign off the wall and stuffed it in her pocket. “Let’s go,” she said to her three hellhounds. It was time to find Plutonium.

***

“Hubcap, it is good to see you again,” boomed Plutonium. “Here to talk to a dead relative? Want to know your future? Need a divine favor?”

Plutonium knew it was none of these things. It never was. Hubcap was, for someone who had managed to make their way to the Nightlife, surprisingly pragmatic.

Hubcap smiled. “Oh, no. I am here to inquire about this wanted poster for Axel Johnston. This picture is... not an accurate depiction, is it?” She held up the imaginative poster.

“Your killer instincts are correct,” Plutonium said. “My sources say that Axel Johnston is medium height, his hair is brown, and he has vampire teeth.”

“So where is he now?”

“He’s on the move, but I think he’s somewhere in Utah.”

“Great,” said Hubcap, moving to leave. “By the way, you might think about making your wanted posters more helpful. That way you can save time by simply supplying the relevant information upfront.”

Plutonium looked somewhat hurt. “I didn’t know you disliked talking to me that much!”

Hubcap waved dismissively as she left. This was why Plutonium had lost favor with the other gods. He lost his temper frequently, was inefficient, and acted like an incorrigible flirt. Hubcap would bet all the money of the reward that this bounty had something to do with a plot to regain favor with the powers that be.

Still, obtaining the reward would be no easy feat. Axel sounded wily and smart, especially since he was already on the move. Possibly he knew that he was being pursued. In fact, he probably knew that the Nightlife existed, and could be engaging in his own ploy of trying to obtain whatever it was he wanted.

Hubcap tried to think what vampires usually wanted. A lot of them were trying to reclaim their lost kingdoms. It was kind of romantic, really; lots of kids dreamed of discovering a new land, and the urge to recover a lost kingdom seemed like the same kind of impulse for discovery, but transmogrified into something that usually made Plutonium angry, which is where Hubcap came in. Usually she felt no qualms about her vocation, but this newest case reminded her of fear.

***

A long time ago, Hubcap captured a vampire named Talfie Roskov.

Talfie was on Plutonium’s radar because she kept trying to strike deals with him to “liberate” a certain soul from the Nightlife. She brought him valuable objects and offered various services in exchange for one of the damned. Things were a lot more complicated than Talfie seemed to assume, however. First, the damned didn’t have bodies. If they were to be brought back to the Daylife, they would have to be bound to some object or person. Second, all the gods agreed that death was sacrosanct and not to be trifled with. Plutonium, forever trying to curry favor among them, was thus reluctant to help Talfie, no matter how noble her cause seemed to be.

The biggest consideration, however, was that there was no compelling reason to bring any of the damned back to the Daylife. You’d either have to exchange your own soul for their soul (hence becoming one of the damned yourself) or find someone else who was willing to exchange their soul (hence, you losing a dear friend, for who else but a dear friend would give their very soul?) Alternately, you could bind the soul to some inanimate object, but this presented the issue that inanimate objects cannot communicate, and are unsatisfying as companions.

Given these limitations, Talfie was either wholly illogical, or completely misunderstood. It was possible that her reasons for bringing back the dead were far different from what they appeared. When she first heard of the story, Hubcap thought that it was kind of like the classic tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, but what if Talfie, like Hubcap, was just a mercenary?

It didn’t really matter. Talfie eventually got tired of fruitless negotiations, and she snuck in a pack of playing cards. She found the soul that she was looking for, and she performed some rite to bind it to her deck of cards. By the time Plutonium found out, Talfie was long gone.

Chasing Talfie was the thrill of Hubcap’s life. The hellhounds ran, and sniffed, and howled, covering tens of miles of ground a day; Hubcap camped outside, sleeping in shifts with the hounds. At the end of the fifth day of hunting, Hubcap had Talfie cornered in a shabby, abandoned barn.

Hubcap was quite curious what a deck of cards with a soul looked like. So while she cuffed Talfie, she asked to see them.

Wind whistled through the cracked slats of the barn. “You’d know it as soon as you saw it,” said Talfie. “The cards are always warm. They’re ornate, you might think they’re tarot, but they’re not. Some of them have foil on their faces. I don’t know how to describe them, but they look like they’re all from some different, alternate universe, clinging to each other tightly so as not to be alone in a strange land, if you know what I mean. I lost it a long time ago.”

Hubcap shivered, then snapped the handcuffs closed. “Sorry to hear that.” She felt like a cat with a dead bird in her mouth.

***

After taking Talfie to Plutonium, Hubcap went back to her hotel room and dumped a pile of chicken entrails in the bathtub for the hellhounds to eat. She took off her dirty tuxedo jacket and sat on the bed. The excitement of the hunt was quickly dissipating, replaced with a strange, morose drowsiness.

Hubcap had seen Talfie’s deck of cards before. She had, in her own way, unintentionally asked it for a favor. And this favor had been granted. It was to this deck of cards that she owed her hellhounds. Plutonium had never asked her how she’d gotten to the Nightlife, and she hoped he never would. Otherwise she would have to make up a lie… but she was too tired for that now…

***

Hopefully Axel was one of the delusory vampires, the ones whose greatest ambition was a very, very small one, a desire to reclaim rather than make new. If not, well, Hubcap would do her very, very best to avoid getting mixed up with it. She was only into magic for the money.

#heartbreaker #hellhounds #hubcap #bounty hunter #white tuxedo #nightlife #chapter 5

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Text

Romance Dreaming:

Captain Francis O’Malley/Duncan Shepherd+Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So, not long ago, in our Discord group we had a rather interesting conversation on put an awful moustache onto Duncan which @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern immediately complied, creating Francis O’Malley, a rather lonesome cowboy with a love for the countryside and a southern accent.

And then… I just had to put this in some kind of lousy romantic plot, because it is just how I am done, I am sorry… but I hope that it could at least steal a laugh from you!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY: When you met on your road, in a rather compomising situation, Captain O’Malley, you are put up in front of a rather interesting deal.

WORDS: 12,6K

WARNINGS: Mentions of Abusive Household, Mentions of War And Death, HIGHLY HYSTORICALLY INACCURATE (I am sorry guys I just had a lot of things to think about, tonight, so I am sorry, if this doesn’t make sense, but I just felt like the post-civil war would have been a nice setting), Slutshaming, Marriage, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mentions of Sexual Themes.

Francis had chosen many times the wrong side.

At the start of the war he had been a confederate, not because he had particularly believed in their cause, but because he had been brought up in that area, and it had been rather difficult to choose any other view.

Even more when your parents had controlled your Fate.

He hadn’t approved many of their choices, but he had been in too deep to get himself away.

War and leading armies was something he was good at, alongside riding his horse, and he wasn’t able to do more anything else, since everybody seemed to think he was the epitome of the perfect cavalry captain of the South, with his perfect light eyes and his strong legs.

So, he hadn’t chosen much of his life.

Except for Roweena.

Roweena and him had met when he had been asked to escort her and her father through a business trip, with his unity and he had been truly amazed by the beauty of such a creature, narrow waist and acute eyes, which played with his emotions.

He had wanted to marry her from the moment he had first seen her, but there was some distance between them, as in between their social status, and his father hadn’t approved.

Hence Francis had thought that, since he had already Roweena’s heart as she wrote to him, he just had to focus on becoming the best cavalry captain so that he could convince Roweena’s father to give her away to a war hero, and they would retire in a sweet country mansion where he could train horses and live the rest of his days in peace.

War had hunted him when he was finally alone, in his tent: the thought of how many fellow soldiers he had lost in that horrible and murderous plot made him feel empty and missing something.

Something he was hoping to find in Roweena, in her sweet eyes and comforting hands.

But then the tides of the war had turned and the North had started slowly winning each battle, gaining more confidence as they went and in the end they had completely destroyed their opponents.

The war had finished in a bittersweet end for Francis.

He was to be executed as many other captains, but a general of the North had noticed him and had suggested that instead of being hang with everyone else of his comrades he betrayed them and came to the North, because they could use someone with his abilities.

He knew that it had been a rather coward decision, but he couldn’t help but choose his life, that one time where he had finally been able to choose.

He hadn’t ever cared for the Confederation’s barbaric rules and now he was breaking them to save his life.

Still each night he woke up with of his friends calling him a coward.

The city in which he had been sent as his first appointment was nothing more than a shithole, completely destroyed by the horrible disasters that Lady War had brought with her and there wasn’t much control to do, after Francis had been appointed constable.

He knew it was some sort of punishment and degradation for having a past in the confederation but each day he woke up wanting to do nothing and feel nothing, he remembered he was alive and that was all it mattered.

He had to live on for those who hadn’t had a chance.

Also, the thought of Roweena kept him going.

Her father had sadly died in the war and she had had to rush to an aunt in the North, according to her latest letters.

She had lost anything she had owned and the only thing that kept her going was Francis.

The thought of their arms joined together in a last hug when they had run away from her annoying chaperone, that same hug that tasted so bittersweet for Francis, each time he remembered about it, was what kept his hopes up.

She hadn’t left her new address and Francis hadn’t been able to contact her, but he had also thought that he couldn’t just show up to her door to bring her to the shithole he worked in: he had to give her something better and he was working on it.

With the little money that he had managed to hide, he was trying to build a new house at the outskirt of the city, hoping it would his and Roweena’s love nest.

One day, he would wake up and all the ghosts would be away, and he would have Roweena by his side.

He was imagining all this, meanwhile he was patrolling with a few friends, when he heard a merchant screaming ‘thief! Thief!’ indicating a running boy, who was zigzagging through the crowd in an almost desperate run, almost making it…

… hadn’t it been for Francis on his horse, who was completely able to avoid the confused mob, using a shortcut, crossing his paths with his thief, just as he was a few miles from being safe and sound.

The little thief knocked himself out against the side of Francis’ horse, who neighed furiously and Francis had to give him a few good caressed to calm it down, meanwhile he reigned it to circle the thief, who was knocked on the ground, too scared by the horse to even try a movement, meanwhile the little bag with money was knocked on the ground, open.

“What do we have here, Charles?” he asked at the horse, eyeing gravely the little thief: the crime scene had increased due to the poverty of the area and the world, but this didn’t make it less excusable “… a little thief… who can’t do his job”.

“Please sir…” the thief’s voice sounded strangely high-pitched and a little hood was covering his face, meanwhile he went on his knees begging the captain “… I honestly… my family is going to starve and nobody is willing to hire me…”.

“You can stop all this silly talk, you should know better than to rob someone of their legitimate money!” he shouted back and something sparkled in the thief’s eyes, suddenly not so scared of the horse, raising on his feet.

“Oh, you think that I was stealing somebody’s ‘legitimate money’?! That merchant is profiting on poor people’s lives, he isn’t less a criminal than me! He is a thief exactly like me… but since he dresses in rich fabrics and doesn’t look starved, you won’t persecute him!”.

The thief’s angry rant made Francis almost fall back from his horse: he knew that what he spoke was true, since many merchants had started taking advantage of the poorness that the war had left, but the thief had still broken the law and he couldn’t go unpunished.

And then a little breezed blew onto them, and the thief’s hoodie fell down his shoulder… or better her shoulder, since the thief revealed to be a girl, a little younger than him, with obvious sign of starvation on her face, but there was some kind of determination that graced her features that made her… truly wonderful at Francis’ eyes.

He was dumbfounded enough and when the thief tried to escape him, due to his distraction, he almost lost her, but Charles was smarter than his owner and quickly captured her again, and this time Francis dismantled from him, so that they could have a conversation eye-to-eye .

She was definitely young and the fact that she was a girl made Francis want to be lenient with the punishment since she was obviously not doing this because she liked it: if it was true that she had a family, she must have been truly desperate to try out this road.

He wondered what he would have felt, had his Roweena been the one that had to steal to provide for her family.

She wouldn’t do it with any sort of evilness to it, it was necessity that brought her on the bad side of the road and although Francis had to obey to the law, he could bend it a bit.

“What’s your name?” the girl refused to reply and he forced her to raise her chin to him, meeting a pair of beautiful eyes, shining of some kind of rage that seemed to keep that body up, burning into Francis’ mind “… and don’t tell me a fake one or I’ll throw you in the darkest jail cells we own, got me?”.

“…(Y/N), sir” the name came out as a soft whimper, as if it pained her to reveal an identity she had almost forgotten “… please don’t put me in jail, captain! I’ll return the money and apologize! I can’t go to jail, my mother would be heartbroken!”.

“You won’t” although he wanted to toy with her a bit more, mostly so that she would learn her lesson, he saw a deep pain in her, a scar that brought him to think of his own “… but you have to promise me you won’t do it again, (Y/N), got me?”.

Her head came free from his grip and this time you refused to look at his eyes, clearly not wanting to swear something that she felt like she would do again, and rather soon according to what her eyes spoke of.

“… you know that you can’t survive like this, don’t you?” he asked, surely concerned that such a beautiful girl could reduce herself to this.

Had the thieving also been unfruitful would she have turned to something even worse?

His heart honestly couldn’t stand it.

“My father died in the war, sir, and my mother has other five children, two of which are rather young! My older brother is a drunkard and won’t help us, so me and my other two sisters try to make some money helping mom with embroidery and cultivating our little vegetable garden… but it isn’t ever enough… the youngest are always hungry and my brother… he steals us money!”.

This was a rather common tragedy: many families lost their only source of income and many of the members turned to alcohol, letting others starve.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for her.

“I won’t hurt you or rattle you out, but if you promise that you aren’t going to steal anything, anymore, I might have a job proposal for you”.

Her nose immediately scrunched up and he realized that the way he had worded the entire thing was horrible and definitely implying something that he hadn’t wanted to, blushing and regretting his words, immediately.

“… I didn’t mean anything like that!” he put his hands up to try to make her relax and see that he didn’t mean anything dirty, behind his words “…I mean an honest job: I have recently started living here and the chaotic life and work has left my house rather… unclean…”.

“You are asking somebody who just stole money… to clean your house?”.

The absurdity of the entire situation made him laugh and she smirked, this time definitely more genuinely.

“You must be truly new in town”.

Francis was rather thankful for his chaotic meeting with (Y/N),

She was amazing with cleaning the house, but that wasn’t her only talent: she was extremely educated for the third daughter of a farmer, justifying her knowledge as the passion that her grandma, a fallen noblewoman who had fell in love with a farmer, had passed down to her.

She knew literature and was passionate about it, which had made her feel wonder at Francis’ small collection of books and, before she had to steal any of them, he had welcomed her to take what he needed, almost as a little library of his.

They would then discuss about it, once she was taking a break from cleaning, Francis insisting she did so, since she worked hard and more times than not, she had overworked herself and he had had to accompany her with Charles back home.

She would always make him stop a bit before he actually reached the proper place.

He knew it was both because she was ashamed of him seeing her modest home, and both because she didn’t want her brother to know of her employment: he would steal her money and use them for booze, hence she always hid her money in her garter belt, knowing he wouldn’t search her there.

Some days, she would come in work, a black eye and a tremble in her hands, she would scrub the floor with such a ferocity that Francis many times had to interrupt her, before she hurt herself and more times than not he had let the girl use his bathroom, just to hear her sob lightly.

It hurt him to know that she had to go through something like that, each time she went back home.

Wouldn’t it have tarnished her good name and his, he would have insisted that she sometimes stopped in his city house so that she could avoid that horrible life.

‘Have you ever thought about running away?’ he had asked once, meanwhile she chatted about the latest books she had managed to get her hands onto, a new one even for Francis, since he had started to buy new books just for her, she loved the ones with fantasy in it and the right atmosphere.

‘More days than not I catch myself thinking about it…’ her confession surprised him: he hadn’t expected that to happen, although she lived in that horrid place, she had never mentioned to him running away ‘… I once even did my luggage and… then… I never know what to do’.

He kind of expected it.

She didn’t have any money and family, although abusive as that one, was still family.

He knew all too well.

‘And what about you, mysterious cowboy?’ she joked, meanwhile she turned to him, pushing the soap in the water, and then immerging the rag in it to clean the floor of the main room, a little but familiar place she had grown to love ‘… don’t you want to run away?’.

‘In the countryside’ he started and gently he relaxed himself, thinking about his life, a calm life in a nice place, where he could live happily surrounded by horses, the nature and his beloved… Roweena…

… Roweena!

He hadn’t thought about her in months, and that morning he had been brightened by a letter of an old friend of his, who had also joined the North side and he had sent him a letter about having seen Roweena at a ball and having talked about her, knowing she would attend a ball not too away from his shithole of a city.

‘All alone?’ she asked, with a malicious smile on her lips, having caught his enamored glance.

‘I might have the perfect girl for that life’.

‘She is a lucky girl, Mr. O’Malley, then’ she had giggled making him blush ‘… I mean… you helped a thief so I truly believe that you have a big heart and she must beyond lucky’.

Did her gaze hide something more?

Francis couldn’t help but think that there was different spark in her eyes, a more intense spark.

But he wasn’t able to think more about it, because as her gaze had set up on him, it immediately left him going back to her chores.

Through the weeks that separated him with his meeting with Roweena, to relax his brain he had taught (Y/N) how to ride with Charles, not much since he couldn’t due to the lacking space and the fact that they couldn’t spend more time together, mostly after one of her littlest sibling had caught a cold and she had to help her mother with him.

But she was a natural.

Whenever she would ride Charles, the horse would grow quiet under her, even quieter than when the horse was under him, making him call it a “traitor”, although he had fun with the beautiful way she would laugh as the stallion would accelerate under her.

And then the day came.

She had come to his house that morning and she had helped him get ready, since he trusted her more than his usual suggestions as a male.

‘Oh but if it was for me, that awful moustache of yours would be off’ she mumbled immediately, but didn’t erase his mark, meanwhile she helped him slicking his hair and adjusting his elegant suit, a thing which would have been full of medals, but he had lost each one of them as he had moved in the North.

But from the long look she reserved for him, he knew that he hadn’t lost his charm,

‘She is a lucky woman indeed’.

‘Tonight, stay here’ he insisted as he was leaving, the previous day her brother had gotten rather upset because the smaller ones of her sibling wouldn’t stop crying, and both her sister were outside working their embroidery as some old lady’s house, so she was the one he had pushed his anger onto.

When she had come that morning knocking softly at his door, a bit earlier, he hadn’t been able not to notice that she was stumbling a bit, limping lightly and when her gown, a soft cotton thing, had raised up lightly he had seen an horrible hematoma on her ankle, which she had immediately covered as she had caught him looking at her.

‘I can’t… the town would talk…’ she blushed so graciously that Francis couldn’t help but be in awe, remaining a bit more on the threshold of the door.

‘Just stay here, I feel better knowing that you going to stay here, your brother wouldn’t notice it and you sisters can cover on you!’ he insisted, gently grabbing one of her hands to make her relax, which she did with a soft whimper ‘… you can stay here till the hour you usually go back in the city, and then take a shortcut, so that people will simply think that you have finished your turn of the day’

‘That is too nice, I can’t…’.

‘Make me go with one less worry, (Y/N), it’ll make my uneasy heart feel better’

And she had eventually complied, promising to take care of his small house.

‘Good luck, cowboy’ she had mumbled, smirking before he walked in the chariot ‘… and if it doesn’t work… we’ll know that it was all the moustache fault’.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself at those words, in the chariot, the conversation he had had with her definitely helped to ease his anxiety.

The entire place where the event was to happen was extremely elegant and rich and Francis couldn’t help but feel at unease, definitely different from all the people that were dancing around the ballroom, meanwhile he stayed close to the angle with the alcoholics.

“Still a fan of scotch?” mumbled James, his old friend, the one who had informed him about Roweena, being the only welcoming face in the crowd, sitting himself beside him, being welcomed with a huge pat and an affirmative answer, which made the waiter pour them two glasses of scotch.

“… didn’t think that you liked these kind of things…?” he mumbled surprised to find his roughish comrade in such a beautiful and delicate place.

“I still don’t like them, but it is better to be seen in these kind of things… it helps” and he not only eyed the expensive bottles, but also the way new leaders and captains moved around the crowd, although many of them were young, he could still see many converted ex-South loyalists.

“… well then let’s hope this might be a good night for both of us” smirked Francis, moving to clink their glasses together, but James didn’t look convinced and mumbled.

“You need to know one thing before…”.

But his voice was interrupted by an announcement of something and soon Roweena was descending the elegant stairs in the center of the ballroom, but she wasn’t alone.

A man was on her side, holding her gloved hand and softly leading her through the light, till they reached the level of the ballroom and Francis’ ears were finally able to focus onto what the announcement was.

“To Roweena and David, the most beautiful couple in this room!”.

“She announced her engagement a week ago, she is going to marry some idiot from the North, the important thing is that he has money and influence, her aunt organized anything: she is pretty and he is rich, her lifestyle will continue on living…”.

Francis was taken aback by all the cynicism his friend spoke and immediately turned to him, as a bull who had just seen red.

“… how can you speak about my beloved like that?” the anger shone in his face, meanwhile annoyance appeared on his friend’s face.

“Wake up, Francis! I tolerated that… awful…shrew for your love, but I hoped it was this which made you realize who Roweena truly is…”.

“She must have been forced in this!” he shot back, not caring that they were attracting glares “… she promised me…”.

“… and any men who even looked at her!”.

The shameful words his friend spoke only angered him more, but as a proper gentleman he just decided to move away, so that his friend could reflect on his hurting words.

He had moved away, a bit and when he came back, he had lost sight of James, but Roweena had been left sadly alone, a perfect opportunity for him to take to finally talk with her.

Reassure her that his feelings for her hadn’t changed and that he was more than ready to run away with her.

She had seemed surprised to see him, but she had quickly welcomed him in a rather informal hug, immediately attracting the wondering eyes of many people around her, which sent him rather unpleasant looks.

But he was in Heaven in her arms.

Although he had to admit that he couldn’t help but feel a bit horrified by all the things around him.

“… oh Francis! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” although his arms had been welcoming, her voice held some kind of sick sweetness that honestly that was suddenly out of tune with the image he had of her “… you made me the most beautiful surprise!”.

“I just couldn’t be separated from you, Rowie” Francis tried to spark again that beautiful relationship that had blossomed between you two “… you look even more beautiful”.

And she did, but Francis couldn’t help but feel like there was some kind of fake edge to her, which ruined her usual candor.

“What are you doing, right now? I thought that the North wouldn’t forgive you”

“They did, once they saw me on a horse” he tried to joke, but all around him the faces were long and before he knew it, Roweena suggested that he accompanied her to have a little breather, outside.

And as he moved outside, she immediately lighted a little cigar, something that Francis couldn’t helo but classify as not very elegant in a lady, but he didn’t stop her, just shielding himself a bit, meanwhile he gently covered her lithe shoulders with his coat.

“… you truly surprised me, Francis” her voice now empty of any ringing sweetness, was dark and rough: it surprised him, indeed “… I didn’t expect you to be this resistant”.

“What do you mean Roweena?” he mumbled surprised, immediately throwing himself to her, gently collecting her small hands in his bigger ones “… I thought we had promised to wait for each other”.

And surprisingly, after his heartfelt discourse, Roweena laughed in his face and before he knew it.

She blew smoke in his face, an illusion as her pretty face and the manners she had shown him.

“You think that promises make the world goes around, Francis?” she smirked, meanwhile he pushed herself closer to him “… because I know for sure that it is money that makes it go around, and I want to be the one spinning it, if you know what I mean”.

All his memories of what Roweena had been shattered by that presumptuous woman, which looked at him like a little insect meant to be squashed by her heels.

“What about our countryside life? I can still give you that!” he didn’t know what he could say more to make her reason, go back to when she had loved him and promised to do so till eternity “… I have started building a small house… in the countryside… it is a small life but…”.

“I don’t want a small life, Francis, I never wanted it” she spoke with such a slowness that every words took a hit in Francis’ chest “… I only said what you wanted to hear, it works that way with men”.

And as she had walked in in a whirlwind of ribbons and crinolines, she walked out of Duncan’s heart and life, leaving him dumbfounded and with an aching heart.

He didn’t know how he had managed to finally come back from the entire failure, since he had then, without even questioning, drunk himself stupid, emptying two bottles of scotch, till his body begged him to shut down and lay down.

It had been Charles who had brought back home, and he had risked many times to fall but once he had arrived home, the heaviest part of the entire thing was to drag himself through the door.

Which he did, longing for his bed, but when he finally managed to fall onto it he found out it wasn’t empty, but a warm body was laying against it, soft and definitely feminine and although it made no sense, his body, in his drunken state, reached around for it, curling against it, feeling comforted by the welcoming way she relaxed against him.

A whimpered breath leaving her lips, a heavenly lullaby that, alongside her even breath, lulled him to a peaceful sleep.

He woke up the following morning because the body he had curled against the previous night started moving, away from him and, more out of subconscious conscience than actually wanting to keep her close, he brought her back onto him, cuddling to the warmth, till a whimper of pain surprised him.

And he realized to whom the body belonged.

(Y/N) looked at him, as he opened his eyes, the thin nightgown she had chosen definitely more form fitting than the usual clothes she wore, and her hair down from her usual updo, gently gracing and cornering her face in a beautiful frame.

She was honestly beautiful, any detail highlighted by the shy light of the morning and her body appearing extremely delicious, hidden in simply cotton.

“… Mr. O’Malley, what…? I thought…?” and then shame set in her, her cheeks flushing red “…I fell asleep waiting for you, sorry for sleeping in your bed, I’ll immediately change the sheets…”.

“There is no need for it” he couldn’t help but feel ashamed by himself, he shouldn’t have drunk so much, mostly because, although nothing had happened and they had both their clothes on (although that nightgown was oddly revealing and doing things in his mind), it was highly scandalous to sleep with any woman that wasn’t your wife, before marriage “… I don’t think that I am actually able to leave this bed, right now… I am feeling pretty… unwell…”.

“Then I’ll go and fix you breakfast!” anything to get herself away from him, this is what Francis saw in her eyes, embarrassment shading anything else “… so that you can lay down and collect yourself”.

And she had strutted away, almost tripping in her own feet, due to the quickness of her movements, just to get away from him.

It would have been almost funny, hadn’t he felt like his head was going to explode.

Left alone, he had to finally reason with the revelation that his plan for the perfect life with Roweena was now impossible.

The rejection hurt him, but what made him feel truly empty again was the thought that any solution he had thought for all his problems, the emptiness due to the loss of war, the sense of guilt for having passed on the other part and the horrid thought that his life was meaningless.

What was he supposed to do with all that knowledge and an half finished shithouse on the countryside.

He left his bed just when it grew cold, although the natural perfume of (Y/N) still lingered on his pillow.

The kitchen smelled amazingly, but (Y/N) wasn’t stopping a single minute to face him, in an awkward silence that honestly made him uneasy.

“… I am sorry for the accident of tonight” he knew that he had probably scared her this morning, he could only imagine the hell she had gone through for her drunkard brother.

“I am actually the one who should be sorry, master Francis, it was… I shouldn’t have fallen asleep…” she rambled, clearly nervous.

“There is no need for the ‘master Francis’ and I personally am the tone who should be sorry, again, for the incident, I might have drunk a bit too much, yesterday…”.

She relaxed a bit, gracing him with a more lighthearted smile.

She had changed in her daily clothes, a high-necked blouse and a long gown of a beautiful light blue, tending to gray, which lighted up her age but also showed the sign of somebody who had grown up too quickly.

“… it didn’t go well?” in your voice there was no judgement and he couldn’t help but shake his head, meanwhile he seated himself to the table, as you brought him coffee and what you had prepared, enough that it would last him for days.

“Would you mind sitting down with me?” he asked, a bit shyly “My head is spinning and you moving around makes me feel even worse”.

She obeyed, setting herself down on one chair, the farthest away from him.

“If she didn’t like the moustache, you can still tell her you’ll cut it off” her genuine suggestion brightened up the mood, making let out a soft laugh “…no need to get this sappy about it”.

“Thank you for the suggestion, but it is simply more complicated than that…” and although they had known each other for not much time he confessed her everything that had happened that night with Roweena, and she listened with attention, her gaze becoming sadder as she took his difficulties.

“I am sorry to hear that…” her hands slowly inched closer to his, although she didn’t dare to take it “… I know what it is like to feel like any plan that you might elaborated isn’t working, because something changed, but…”.

And she finally took his hand.

“… but there is going to be a woman who loves you, I know it, and in the meanwhile, all you have to do is pick yourself up and look through the bright side…”.

“I can’t honestly see it” he mumbled, grumpily, and smirking she made him raise his head lightly, becoming bolder with her touches.

“You have a nice job, and you are going to build yourself a nice house in the countryside, you also have Charles… and if the entire woman thing doesn’t work, you might get a dog… I am sure Charles won’t be jealous”.

He couldn’t help but finally let out a laughter, not all his emptiness was now filled, but he couldn’t help but feel a more lighthearted, comforted by her gentleness and sweetness.

“… you are pretty wise about heartbreak, experienced many yourself?” he didn’t mean to actually barge in her stuff, and he felt her retreat in herself, but still… she answered him.

“I haven’t had many lovers, I can’t offer a proper dowry and I don’t think about love…” she mumbled shyly, meanwhile she hid her gaze “… but lately… somebody has been… I have thought about somebody… in that way”.

“He is beyond lucky” he couldn’t help but think that somebody like her would be a perfect partner: beautiful, hardworking and constantly having something to be happy for “… I hope that he knows that…”.

“I haven’t… come forward with him” she mumbled rather shyly, removing her hand from his grip “I do think that I am not… what he is looking for… so I am just waiting”.

He raised his coffee cup and moved it towards her.

“To us waiting for the people of our lives”.

She simply smirked meekly and then set back to take care for anything.

Weeks had gone and soon it was Autumn and then Winter.

Francis had had to slowly renounce for a bit to his country house, but he was comforted by (Y/N)’s teasing presence, who hadn’t allowed any trespassing of their precious riding lessons, which had somehow brought them together, and in the end they weren’t anymore master and servant.

They were good friends, if not something more.

Hadn’t it been for the constant reminder of Roweena’s hurtful words, he would have maybe tried to court her, although the society would have frowned upon such a union.

But he had started caring less and less about society’s opinion.

But (Y/N) did.

And he respected her shyness, choosing to admire her from afar.

And then that night happened: it had been pouring rain and there was no way Francis could have let her go out in the coldness and weary weather, asking her to stay as a guest.

Through the passing of seasons, she had started staying far more in his house, more time than not, when he wasn’t there, busy on trips or social events so that it would be less scandalous, staying in the guest room.

He knew that it was a small refuge from the daily sadness of her life: her brother would usually hurt just her in a drunken fury to steal the money she made at Francis’ house, he would rarely touch his mother for some kind of conscience he had, and the mother always hid the smaller children, meanwhile her other sisters were many times away, staying at some old lady’s house where they ere employed as a seamstress.

Many times, he had wanted to march over to her house to fight off the awful man, teaching him to pick up a fair fight, but she always made him swear not to.

‘It would make him angrier and the village would talk about it’.

Still, whenever he saw her brother, he would throw him a rather meaningful glance that he had his eyes on him and he better behave.

He was aching for a reason to put him in jail once and for all.

He had let her stay that night, due to the pouring rain, and the morning he had let her sleep in, mostly due to the fact that she had overworked herself lately, helping her sister with some seamstress work and helping her mother at the farm.

He had thought about even getting her breakfast ready, although he couldn’t cook to save his life.

But this had unreasonably created a lateness to her, and although they had had a nice morning, she had had to rush the entirety of the thing, since she had known that her brother would already be wondering what was going on, since she didn’t know for how long her sister would cover her.

He hadn’t thought that her delay of a few minutes would cost her so much, mostly because their plans had worked many times.

Not that time.

When her brother had come from a night of drinking and gambling he had expected to find breakfast ready, but her sister hadn’t been able to cover for her, since she had been called in early, so when he hadn’t found what he expected he had gone crazy, wrecking the house, meanwhile her mother hid with the littlest ones.

So, when she had come home late, having stayed the entire night away, he had unleashed his fury onto her.

Francis had known about this when one of his officers had been asked to come to the house to sedate the fury of the brother, and instead of sending him he had gone there himself.

He had ridden Charles till the old house and there he had found (Y/N)’s sister, crying her eyes out, both her little siblings in her hands, immediately asking for his help.

He had rushed in, knowing perfectly that she must have been in danger, and he had found not only the house completely destroyed, but she was cowering in an angle, bruised and bloodied, an eye swollen enough that she didn’t seem to be able to open it.

And her brother was on the table, a bottle in front of him and their mother moving around the house to try to bring him breakfast, meanwhile he screamed.

And in that moment, he had been the one who had seen red.

He had rushed to the man, a pathetic little ignorant man, and had pushed him till the chair under him had fallen down catching him by surprise, but he was too drunk to realize the change of plan and Francis had done everything to a lighting speed, immediately coming across him and starting the fight.

The punch was the first of many, he didn’t think, he just saw the bruised face that (Y/N) had sported when he had at first walked in, and the only thing that stopped him were her small and ushered pleas.

She had dragged herself to him, her hand trying desperately to reach for him, meanwhile she asked and pleaded him to stop, not differently than she had done before with her brother.

“Please… mas…ter.. Francis… he is not worth it”.

He knew it all too well, but it hurt him to see her like that, and he disentangled himself from his brother, and gently brought her into his arms, raising her in them so that she wouldn’t be hurt and force herself through a painful situation.

“I am going to get my men to collect your son” he simply uttered at the (Y/N)’s mother who pleaded with her eyes to avoid such a strong solution, but he was unremovable “… this scum doesn’t belong in such an household”.

And then he exited with (Y/N) bloody and bruised in his arms, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder probably to hide some kind of uneasiness to her own vulnerability and he didn’t talk preferring to walk in science to his home, waiting there for a doctor who could examine her and bandage her wounds.

He could see all the town’s eyes on them, but he could have cared less.

He couldn’t help but think about how close she had been to death.

What would have happened hadn’t he been able to come to her, just in time?

He couldn’t think about that in the slightest, not when he was worried sick about her.

The sight of her bruised face was painful enough, because it spoke of extreme pain and he couldn’t help but be extremely worried on her future.

She had talked him and the doctor, once he had come, he had said she was lucky she had ‘such a thick head’ or she wouldn’t be alive.

He had checked her ability to move her body and although she did so with a painful breath it was clear that she hadn’t been injured permanently, although he had to bandage your ribs, since some seemed broken, a procedure which Francis hadn’t been able to stand, turning around to give her some privacy and because the sight of bruised skin honestly made him not only feel awful but also like he hadn’t done enough for her.

And certainly, like he hadn’t hit enough that bastard.

Also, her intellectual abilities weren’t compromised, for which he was even more thankful, because to ruin such a wonderful brain it would be a true waste.

“I am going to grab something in my office to help with the pain, I’ll bring it when I’ll come to check on her, tomorrow, right now it’s better if she is kept awake, it is good for her head”.

He had thanked the doctor and handsomely tipped him for the inconvenience and to keep his mouth shut, before he came back at her, she was facing the opposite wall, wanting to hide and shrink away from him, in a desperate fetal position.

“… do you want something to eat?” he didn’t know what to do.

She must have had an awful day and he wasn’t helping her much: he had beaten her brother…

… who had reduced her to a bloody pulp, but family was strong.

“… no, thank you” she sniffled, meanwhile she adjusted on her side, a little moan of pain leaving her lungs.

“What about a book?” he just wanted so damn to be useful, even with the easiest of asks “… I can read it to you”.

“I think that you have already done more than I deserved, Mr. O’Malley… I…” her voice was so low that it was just a simple whisper and hadn’t he been so still “… I am truly ashamed you had to see that… you must think so…”.

“You think that it is you who should be blamed for this?” his anger made her flinch, but it wasn’t directed at her “… you have no fault in this, you are the victim…”.

“I should have fought harder…” she tried to mumble, but he was unable to stop himself and his anger from flaring up.

“… and he should have never touched you!” because it was the damned truth, it wasn’t her fault in the slightest and before Francis knew it, she turned around: her face a map of bruises and hurt, and he found himself walking closer, no sign of fear in her eyes, just shame again “… I am sorry for not having stopped this sooner…”.

“It wasn’t your business” she mumbled, meanwhile he softly raised her chin, grabbing it between his thumb and pointer fingers helping her look at him, meanwhile she held back a soft whimper of pain “... I am still not your business”.

“You are, instead” he moved her so that she could stare at him in the eyes “You are so damn my business, with your gentleness and softness, and you deserve nothing more than this in the world, and I am sure that from now it is given to you”.

He made sure every world meant something for her and she looked at him like she did believe him, although there was still some kind of shyness in her eyes and he was more than aware about the fact that sadly he had gone too far, but… the little smile she sent his way… was worth it.

“Thank you for being there, Mr. O’Malley” the little smile turned in a devious smirk “… you aren’t so bad yourself…if you can overlook that awful moustache”.

“Well you are certainly back to normal!” he laughed out loud, truly relieved that you hadn’t lost your bite “… I am going in the kitchen to cook something, scream if you need help”.

Some time had passed since Francis had freed (Y/N) from the grasp of her brother and although the first days it had been simply to help her through her convalescence (although she was stubborn as hell, and many times she had tried to help him around the house), then he hadn’t been able to send her back to her house, although her brother had been sent to jail.

Hence, he wouldn’t annoy her, anymore.

He would make sure of it.

But somehow the permanence at his house had marked her in a bad way, since the entire town would talk about her as if there was some kind of illicit relationship between you two.

Old ladies would talk about how he had gotten stuck with her, thanks to some kind of evil plan of her and his lower officials would say even worse, using words he had long-since prohibited.

It almost seemed as if there was no exit, in this kind of situation: she couldn’t exit her house (although she would still go out to see her family, but they seemed to have excluded her from their core) without risking people looking dirtily at her, since her modesty had been shredded, in their eyes.

And she couldn’t go back to her family.

The only way was for her to stay in that city was with him…

Under a legalized bond, such as marriage.

He honestly didn’t have many chances after his loss of Roweena at marriage, and he couldn’t deny the growing attraction he was feeling for her, only enticed by the need to protect her, so he couldn’t help but feel like making her an honest woman might help her.

But he was aware that it wasn’t a simple question and one day, once he had come home, he had asked her opinion on the matter: starting from how she felt about the situation and what were her ideas to stop this behavior towards her.

“I don’t know how” sadness shone in her face, meanwhile she softly fidgeted with her hands “… I don’t know what I have to apologize for… I don’t know why my life is so angry about me… I just… I feel like hiding in this house is also not a proper solution”.

“You know that this doesn’t bother me” he mumbled “… but I might have an idea to solve this”.

Her eyes immediately brightened up: the “house arrests” were pretty heavy on her, although she tried her best to avoid showing the difficulties and the emotions that this rejection from society brought to her.

“… we might have to marry”.

Her eyes literally rolled behind her head for the surprised a.nd she almost fell from the chair.

“… what?” she mumbled, meanwhile he worried that it hadn’t been the brightest of her ideas “… you must be joking”.

“I am not” and he exited a little ring from his pocket, which he had picked up the night before “… I know this might be excessive… but if you marry me, they’ll leave you alone, although it is sad to say”.

“I know… I know…” she was looking at the ring, not daring to touch, which was definitely not good “… but… you don’t… you have no fault in this, you can’t always help me Mr. O’Malley, this is too much”.

“…it isn’t such a bad condition for me, you are already in the house every day, so it won’t change much, and I can’t think of anyone, after Roweena, so I don’t think that I’ll ever settle down…” he knew it might have been a bit excessive, but so were the society’s rumors “… people say I need to have a wife, and you need somebody who’ll quiet the rumors, so we are going to get married, we respect each other and have some kind of friendship; we are for sure better than many couples I know”.

She still looked back at him, confused and shocked, before slowly her hands reached to the ring, immediately retreating at last.

“You don’t want me as your wife… I am…” she mumbled, again nervous, looking at him in the eyes “… I can’t… what if you regret it?”.

“My heart has been broken since the end of the war, and when you came in my life, you brought some kind of solace in my life and I’ll forever appreciate you, as your eternal debtor”.

She looked once more to the ring and this time she gripped it in her fingers.

“Should I be surprised that it isn’t as tacky as your moustache?”.

“Be ready for a lot of tackiness in the future, my wife”.

The marriage had been rushed, but not enough that it seemed a coverage for an unexpected pregnancy.

Her sister and James had been their witnesses, she had worn a beautiful white dress, the best one he could have afforded, but she would have looked angelically even in rags.

The entire thing was more a quick need than an actual want, hence after the small ceremony was over they had retired home, thanking their few guests, who had wished them all happiness, although many of the people sent their way some dirty and annoyed looks.

Once behind closed doors, they had both let out soft and relieved breaths.

“… it is done” Francis mumbled.

“We are husband and wife” she replied, as if it was a shocking truth.

“… before anything goes further” he mumbled, immediately moving towards her, trying not to corner her, since she already had a blush going on, on her pretty cheeks “… I might be your husband, but you don’t owe me anything”.

Her cheeks definitely flushed, at what he meant: the duties of a wife were known to her, but he knew better than to push her, not after everyone in her life had done that.

They were similar in that: they both had been forced in things they hadn’t wanted.

And he didn’t even think that he could do something like that to her.

“…well before anything goes further, I also have a confession to do” she mumbled not even looking at him in the eyes “… you remember when I said I was in love with somebody…?”.

How could he not, he had wondered for entire days who that man was, if she would be heartbroken to have to marry him instead of the man of her dreams.

“… that man… well… it was you”.

And before Francis could properly reply to that outstanding confession, you ran away.

Since that confession she had been distant towards him: not careless but there was no way he could even feel like she was at ease with him, since she would constantly avoid him, whenever she could.

They might have been married now, but… they were more strangers than actual wife and husband.

The confession that she had fallen in love with him, had confused him, mostly because he didn’t want the feelings she harbored for him to be some kind of “reward” for his behavior towards her; he didn’t want nothing more than her purest form of affection.

The thought that she felt like she owed him something honestly made him feel sick at his stomach.

But now the town talked more secretively whenever she would walk out of their houses, and she had now some friends, other wives to whom she was slowly teaching how to read and write and Duncan had suggested she actually tried to get some teaching degree.

‘You are good at teaching, so you should try to get it certified, and you might open a little school here’ he had once mumbled, meanwhile she had told him about how many women sadly didn’t learn to read or write, and they kept in this horrible condition till the end of their days.

At the time she had simply blushed and nodded, but Francis had discovered soon that she had started getting some information on how to become a teacher and he couldn’t help but encourage her in secret, continuing with bringing her books, as some kind of gift for sticking for so long with him.

And then the ball of the town had rolled around and also (Y/N) had been taken by the frenzy of the choice of the dress and the thought of dancing around for the first time after entire days of pain.

She was definitely gorgeous, when she smiled so openly and naively, it was genuine and Francis was definitely addicted to that beauty.

Finally the night of the ball had come around and for the first time in month the looked like a true couple, with her hanging onto his arm, dressed up in a puffy but graceful green dress, the color mixed with light blue to catch better the lights and heighten her colors.

(He had to admit that when she had come down the stairs, almost running in that… thing, his heart had stopped beating and he was fucking sure that she was the most beautiful creature in the whole town).

(If not the entire world).

The ball was much smaller than many he had attended but it gave off some kind of familiar atmosphere and he felt comfortable with his pretty wife at his arm, finally laughing like she hadn’t in just so many days, softly showing her teeth in a ridiculous manner that made him want to kiss her pretty lips.

But he had to be the proper gentleman.

They still slept separated, but sometimes he would wake up from a nightmare, probably his screaming having woken her up and he would find her on the couch, a little candle illuminating the room and the book she was reading and which she proceeded to read out loud to lull him back to sleep.

He was dancing with some old lady that had stolen him from a laughing (Y/N), meanwhile she danced with a rather young courtier, one of the child of the wives she had been helping, who had started to court her, enough that Francis couldn’t help but be jealous of the way she would smile at him.

And then it happened.

Roweena had always been known for her grand entrances: once she had hired servants to carry her in a Cleopatra-way, something which should have told him what he was in for, a long time ago.

But the entrance she did, stuck in his mind mostly because there was no reason for her to here, so he wasn’t expecting her in the slightest and even if it might make him pass for an egocentric, he knew she had come back for him.

She had eyed him in the crowd and he immediately shifted away from the woman he was holding, moving towards (Y/N), collecting her in his arms, and sending the poor child a sweet smirk, promising him candies, meanwhile he tried to drag away his wife from the drama.

But it wasn’t enough.

Roweena reached them easily and she immediately clasped onto him, hugging him closely, meanwhile he felt (Y/N) nervous against him, stilling her movements, as she tried to pretend everything was fine.

“…ahh look at you Francis, making me come all the way from my honeymoon for you!” her voice was cheery enough that everyone had heard and it wasn’t a secret that everyone was looking at her.

“Roweena, what are you doing here?” he didn’t care that he was being extremely rude, but he didn’t want to waste any time, mostly when (Y/N) was still at great unease, clearly comparing herself to Roweena, since she was smart enough to realize she had been Francis’ first love.

“Ah, that isn’t a nice way to speak to a lady” she commented, but didn’t let his tone get in her way, tangling her arms together “… but if you must know, I am here for you”.

The last words of her phrases had moved onto a more confidential tone, as if she didn’t want (Y/N) to hear her, sending towards her a rather dirty look, that got on Francis’ nerves.

“.,, I have come here to take up your offer about having a nice life on the countryside” each words seemed forced out of her mouth, as if he had just obliged her to follow him, which was rather unlike him, but it still didn’t stop him from being ashamed “… the horses and the cattle, the entire thing, you know, I am ready for it”.

“… and what about your fiancé?” he felt (Y/N) beside you fidgeting nervously, as if she had wanted Roweena to get the hell out of their way as soon as it was possible.

But he, instead was making small talk with her.

“He isn’t…” Roweena for the first time since forever seemed at loss for words “… he was a big pretender…not definitely what I needed… and he made me truly appreciate what I had lost with you”.

Which meant that he hadn’t shown to have as much money as he was supposed to, to stay with Roweena, and to properly ‘take care of her’.

And she had gone back to him.

“… well that is quite the trouble” he hoped to sound as annoyed as he could “… but I don’t know how to help, I am not sure that my wife would appreciate me helping you”.

He saw and felt (Y/N) beaming against him, finally moving a step closer to him, smiling gently at her.

Kill them with kindness, indeed.

“…a wife?” she asked confused, meanwhile (Y/N) showed off her pretty ring, nothing too expensive but it made quite the work “… you married?”.

“Happily married” (Y/N) enforced, her hand immediately gripping his, before she laid a soft kiss onto it.

“… oh ahem…” she obviously didn’t know what to do anymore “…I didn’t know…”.

“Well now you know…” (Y/N) smirked, before she gripped tight Francis’ hand, turning just to leave her with a last message “… and I even like his moustache”.

And then they were both running away like two giggling teenagers, Francis trying to keep her dress from making her trip (which happened still), meanwhile she smirked, their eyes still entwinned.

They seemed a couple, and as they reached the outside of the ballroom, to properly breath more freely away from that society of conventions, he couldn’t help but feel like things were easier now.

So easy that with extreme gentleness and softness he moved to lay a sweet kiss on her lips, the first since their marriage, since she had allowed him to graciously push his lips against hers, in a shy kiss.

But in this one, although he still kept it shy, her lips came alive under his and before he knew it, she was the one leading the kiss, softly teasing his lips, mapping them out with her tongue, before her teeth tested the softness of them.

And it was all interrupted as her nose came in contact with his moustache, tickling it gently, enough that she had to separate herself from him, to sneeze making him giggle softly, meanwhile she hid behind her hands, clearly ashamed.

“I told you to cut that damn moustache” she snickered, not truly angry, and he gently pushed her hands away from her face, facing her pretty eyes and those delicious lips.

“��I’ll cut my beloved moustache, learn how to play the harmonica and build you a house on the countryside, if you promise to kiss me every day like that”.

Now the embarrassment on her cheeks was true and he thought he might have overstepped his limits, but then she gently moved closer and slowly and softly, but with a meaningful glance at their now-entangled hands, she smirked softly and reached out to kiss one of his cheeks.

“I’ll kiss you each day, my captain” she said “… moustache or not…”.

“Then why… why have you been so cold with me, all this time?” he knew that hadn’t he asked her this he wouldn’t be sure if his feelings were reciprocated as hers; she might have been scared by the ghosts of his past, when he would wake up screaming.

She might not want a traitor, and more importantly she might hate him for forcing her in a marriage, although he had been the one, she had loved, and she had confessed so.

“…I didn’t… it wouldn’t have been proper for me to express my feelings… when you were my master, mostly because… you had your feelings for Roweena… and when you came up with the idea of the marriage I thought you were doing it more out of pity than actual interest for me… and I… just was scared that what you felt for me, was not enough”.

He had thought the same, each night, since their wedding, when he had woken up alone, uncherished and without her by his side.

He might have harbored feelings for Roweena, but he had let them go, as soon as (Y/N) had entered her life, showing him the truth and the wonder that being loved with the same amount, meant.

He loved her.

He knew it.

And he would act on it, now that he knew she wouldn’t run away.

“Well than rest assured, milady” he mumbled, meanwhile he brought her by the waist closer to him “… what I feel for you is stronger than what I have ever felt for anybody else. All my life I haven’t chosen anything, and then you came in… and I chose to marry you, although selfishly… because I wanted you… and I hope you are happy, because we are stuck”.

“As long as you cut that horrid..!” before she could finish the sentence, Francis had lightly tilted her body, dipping her a bit, enough for her to have to rely on him for balance and as if that wasn’t enough, he kissed her, this time deeply and slow.

A sensual kiss, finally, one between two lovers.

Finally.

He pushed her against him, feeling the entirety of her warm body against his, meanwhile she simply smirked against the kiss, letting her mouth open after his tongue teased her lips, pushing itself through the little “o” which formed as she was surprised by how swiftly his hands moved from her waist to cup her buttocks, collecting the layers of her dress to pick her up in his arms.

As they separated, he twirled her around making her smirk, meanwhile she giggled and tried to make him stop, knowing all too well that although they were away from the main crowd, they were still in an extremely public place.

And they were indeed caught.

… by Mrs, Leipniz, their neighbor, an old widow who looked dourly at them, muttering something about ‘newlyweds not having any shame’, before she moved away and Francis felt her shivering, obviously embarrassed, but also cold.

“C’mon let’s go home” he muttered, gently putting her down, but keeping their hands linked in front of him, meanwhile he led her to their home.

He helped her out of his coat once they were inside, but she distracted him keeping on kissing all his face, meanwhile he smirked at her rushed affections, but he welcomed them, but as soon as she was out of the awful coat he could have a great look at her dress, meanwhile she twirled for him.

“You are freezing, babygirl” he mumbled as her freezing hands, settled onto his chest “… might I warm you up?”.

He wiggled his eyebrows making her blush but also smirk, meanwhile she just turned, setting up a meditative pose, as if she was thinking.

“… and how would you do that, Mr. O’Malley” she teased him, before a small kiss was sent onto his lips, just for her to retreat immediately.

“Well, I’ll have you know, Mrs. O’Malley…” he smirked at the way her name tasted in his mouth being said like that “…that I have a lovely fireplace in my room”

“But I also have one in my room” she murmured trying to appear completely unbothered by the entire thing, meanwhile she smirked at him, trying to run away from his arms, which only tightened the grip on her, making her giggle.

“Oh, but mine, little girl…” he smirked, pushing himself against her, so that the sexual innuendo was clearer to her, making her feel his excitedness through the layers of her too-covering dress “… is bigger”.

She giggled, completely red in her face, but she just nodded, before blowing a soft kiss to him and exiting his arms, caught by the distraction and rushing in Francis’ room, merely closing the door behind her.

He snickered, but quickly followed her, discarding on the way his jacket, remaining in a soft linen shirt, and his “more-than-properly-tight” pants, finding that she had also shed part of her dress, the full gown and her own jacket revealing some linen puffy underpants and her lithe corset, which was tightened over a sheer chemise, truly making Francis’ mind reach its most sinful thoughts.

“... you took your time, old man” she muttered, gently reaching behind her to unlace her corset, a lighter shades of blue with golden insert, and Francis moved closer to her immediately, slapping gently her hands away to undo the corset, in a newfound intimacy he loved with all his heart.

“… and you are taking too many liberties brat” he replied, pushing on her corset laces, effectively stealing her breath, something that made her take a deep intake of breath, suffocating whatever she was going to protest with “… I might have to punish you”.

He then moved and pushed onto the laces to effectively freeing her from that annoying garment meanwhile he laid passionate kisses onto her exposed neck, since her hair where in an updo, something for which he was thankful, although he had quite the passion for her hair being let down.

“Is that a promise, old man?” she spoke back, turning her face to him, gently linking their lips for a slow kiss, making him feel every crevice of her lips, meanwhile his fingers passed onto her body, letting the corset fall down her body, exposing the modelling nightgown.

“That is definitely a promise” he smirked, gently raising one hand onto her breasts, squeezing one softly in his hand, meanwhile your mouth opened, and he bit the tip of her ear, making her moan out loud “… and I always respect my promise”.

This was enough for him to feel her tremble beneath him, pleasure oozing from her lithe body and he knew it all too well that she was probably drenched in her garments and discovered this and much more as he probed softly her cotton underpants, before his hand slipped in them, stopping at the beginning of them.

“Want me to make you feel good, lovely” his other hand went to her hair and he pushed the main hairlock in it, letting them fall onto her shoulder, meanwhile she nodded, biting her lips, and his hand moved further, meanwhile her moans answered the question.

“… please, Francis… I…” and then she turned to him, the gentleness of her eyes didn’t hide the fire in them “…I can’t… I have waited long enough for this”.

And he didn’t dare to actually delay her wishes anymore and he softly slipped his fingers onto her mound, finding it indeed wet and warm, and not because of the burning fireplace, which was the sole light in the room, alongside some candles lighted up on the nightstand, permitting him to see her beautiful face, the way it contorted as his fingers came in contact with your secret.

But this wasn’t enough.

“Can you lay on the bed for me, lovely?” he asked, and although protesting against the loss of his hand, gently teasing her, but she laid, meanwhile he softly nestled between her thighs, already feeling the delicious smell of her arousal.

The knowledge that she was already this aroused because of him was making him quite crazy.

He rutted lightly against the bed, to relieve a bit of the pression on his own member and when he finally managed to focus on her again, he recognized that between him and that sweet nest of honey there was an obstacle: her underpants.

He almost wanted to rip them off, but he knew that this gesture might scared her, so he gently dragged them down her soft legs, meanwhile he revealed her nest, now barely hidden from some linen short pants, decorated by frilly parts in silk.

Her wetness had sipped through them, revealing the shape of her puffy folds.

And he pushed them down her legs, after the underpants, having her almost naked under him, the chemise the only thing covering her, and with the way she blushed as he raised his eyes to meet hers, and tightened her grip onto the hem of it, he didn’t dare also defraud her of that last shard of modesty.

He preferred for her to guide him when she felt ready.

But she had asked to make her feel good.

She had said she had waited for too long.

So, he shouldn’t make her wait any longer.

He dipped one fingers in between her folds, teasing her softly, more to see her joyful condition than to actually elicit any pleasure from her, which, still, sparked in his finger’s wake.

She gently pushed her hand into the sheets and raised her back off the bed, but immediately stilled as Francis found her that damned sweet spot he knew that would make her see stars, meanwhile her grip on the sheets tightened, and her legs came to close themselves onto his fingers, either to lock him there or to hide herself from her ashamed state.

He retreated his finger from that aching point just to collect against wetness being dripped by her folds just to douse it over her pearl, lightly swollen due to his ministration, continuing this a few times before it was enough that he felt like he wouldn’t hurt with his next moves.

“I am going to breach your innocence, my little girl” he said, raising her eyes to look at her, finding some kind of dark pleasure in them, a silent prayer, because it wasn’t enough “… it might be uncomfortable, but if you want to stop… you just tell me, won’t you, sweetheart?”.

“Of course, Mr. O’Malley” the way she addressed him, alongside the rough tone of her voice, arousal through it being evident.

“I might actually like the way you pronounce my name” he smirked, before he went down, nestling himself better in her nest, making sure that his shoulder blocked her legs so that she wouldn’t deny him access.

“Have you ever done this to anyone before?” there was some uneasiness in her voice, that made him stop from doing much more, making him raise his eyes to look at hers “… I don’t… I have never…”.

“Yes, I have done this before…” he felt disappointment in her eyes, alongside with her ducking her head away “… but I have never been in love with the person I have done this before”.

And to enhance the concept he kissed her thighs, till his breath was just onto her nest, making her moan lightly, meanwhile she screwed her eyes close, the knowledge that he loved her making her feel like nothing more could be more pleasurable.

“I… I am scared you won’t like… it… with me” she mumbled, meanwhile his tongue licked a little path from her inner thighs to the upper part, softly delimiting and mapping out the confines of her womanhood.

“You think too much, (Y/N), there is nothing in the world that you could do to make me feel like you aren’t perfect to me” he definitely felt like she was a bit more relaxed and then inched his finger between her folds, holding it here, meanwhile he moved up so he could kiss you as he slipped his first finger inside her, and immediately she bit down on his lips.

He tried to ease the gentle pressure with a softer touch of his lips, but it was enough with the way her walls tightened around his finger, not wanting to let it go, that he knew it was enough, and that she was starting to feel pleasure.

He still checked in her eyes, which had rolled back a bit, and when she rutted lightly against it.

And he was completely loss in the adoration of the way pleasure overtook her, and he gave her what she needed, pumping lightly his finger in and out of her, till he knew that it wasn’t enough anymore and he moved his lips onto her folds, before they raised onto her clit and he softly kissed it, before he started sucking on it, making her moan loudly and her fingers, unwillingly, treaded in his hair.

She pushed him, meanwhile her legs closed around his shoulder, trembles of pleasure going through her and he knew that she was almost there.

She just needed a little push, or better… a little crook of his finger, meanwhile his tongue started lapping more languidly her pearl, making him feel every inch of it, stimulating her till she was oversensitive and when pleasure came… she screamed.

She contorted over the bed, the evidence of this never having happened, was clear in in the movements of her body, ecstatic and honest, and definitely divine with the way her juices flowed in his mouth, the taste better than anything he had tasted, and he passed a few minutes slurping anything he could from their natural source.

And when she pushed him away from the hair, in a rather tight grip, which only excited him, and she brought him in a kiss, a messy kiss, collecting some of her own juices in a desperate attempt of passion, in a show of tongues that lead her to take the upper hand, inverting the positions.

Now she was on top of him, and he wasn’t sure he minded it at all, now with the way her thighs pushed onto his hardening bulge, which was becoming more and more desperate, searching for friction.

“I do think that I want more” she murmured, almost reaching his lips, before she turned back, and one hand reached down his pants, although an adorable blush coated her cheeks “… I have tasted corruption and I don’t think that I can stop”.

He smirked simply, reverting again the positions and making her giggle.

“Well that is good because I have no intention to stop…” he giggled, pushing down his pants and undergarments with them, meanwhile another hand tasted the wetness and readiness of her soft nest “… and little girl, get ready for the final shred of your innocence being forever stolen”.

“I can’t believe that you are reading those things, when you have a man of bones and skin in front of you” mumbled annoyed Duncan, meanwhile you turned another page of the romance you were reading before bed.

Romance books had always bene your guilty pleasures: they made you relax, alongside the fact that whenever Duncan wasn’t with you they were your own way to have a bit fun with your body, since the smutty description could be quite “steamy”.

You hadn’t been able to put down, still, your latest romance reading, not only because it was definitely a slow-burn romance, but the male character also sounded like Duncan, hence you had been too busy trying to finish the book to actually dote on your real “boyfriend”.

“Just give me a few minutes… we are getting to the interesting part” you mumbled, trying to hush your boyfriend, but whenever Duncan was bored and not receiving enough attention, he was prone to particular vexations towards you.

And in this case, he literally stole the book from you, before discarding it rather ungently away from you and throwing it in an angle of your shared bedroom, making you scream at him in protest, but he immediately stopped any response of yours kissing you and pushing himself on top of you.

“… I think that I can offer you more entertainment than some stupid book” he smirked as soon as he retreated from the kiss “… I am definitely better than Captain O’Malley”.

“Oh, are you sure?” you smirked, feeling like you had just gifted yourself a wonderful night of sex “… won’t you show me, Captain Shepherd?”.

----

As always... any feedback is more than welcomed and encouraged, I am always curious to know what you think of the shit I write, and I hope that you’ll appreciate it!

Also I do have to warn you that I have been having some personal problems and I haven’t felt like writing much so I am sorry if the next fics might take some more time!

And here are to the one who wanted to be tagged!

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