#i didn't did all of the songs but who cares

[lunaandco]

guys my age; part two

pairing: alexia putellas x ofc

summary: claudia is getting on alexia's nerves. a punishment was long coming

warnings: smut, spanking, age difference, power imbalance, angst

author's note: many wanted a part 2, and i usually deny any request, but after i had this idea i kinda had to... there will be a final 3rd part and that will be it!

masterlist // part one // series masterlist // I do not take requests

Claudia was doing it on purpose. Alexia watched her as she sat on Salma's lap, giggling about something she was showing her on her phone, her pretty smile directed towards someone other than herself.

Alexia knew she was being punished, in a childish petty way. Claudia was pissed at being denied more of their illicit activities, since Alexia insisted their one off in the hotel room had been a unique mistake that would not happen again.

She should be happy Claudia was finding someone else to be with, but jealousy was blinding her completely.

Alexia needed a full intervention, if she wanted to keep her dignity and reputation. A twenty year old starlet could not be the end of her.

The worst thing was, it was starting to be obvious. The night before, Irene had looked at her with an arched eyebrow and the knowing curl in her lips of a woman that was being lied to her face, when Alexia said nothing was going on with Claudia.

She obviously ended up caving. Irene was not necessarily approving, but she didn't blow off at her either.

"Sometimes we want thing that we can't have," she told her. "Be wise, capi."

Alexia hated how much that nickname reminded her of Claudia and what happened between them.

"Capi?" Alexia shot her gaze back to Claudia, who had left Salma's lap to approach her silently. "Can you take me home, please?"

"Can't Salma do it?" Alexia didn't mean to be rude, but as they got closer, Claudia started to get lifts almost exclusively from Salma.

"She's got family stuff she can't be late for."

"Ah."

Alexia should come up with an excuse. Say she also had something with her family or a dentist appointment. But just as it was unprofessional to sleep with her players as a captain, it was to avoid them at all costs.

So she ended up leading Claudia to her car, heart risen to her throat as she watched the youngster buckle up her seat belt. They had been in this situation cuntless times, but this was the first since they had... well, Alexia did not want to think about it too hard.

It would get her in trouble.

Claudia didn't seem to care about the tension—or percieve it at all—as she connected her phone to the Bluetooth to put her own playlist, humming one song or another.

"You've been avoiding me," she stated calmly.

"I—" Alexia didn't want to deny it, it would only add gasloghting to the list of crimen she had committed up until now. "We should keep a profesional distance. That is what I'm trying to do."

"Bullshit."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said bullshit."

Claudia's eyes were blazing with emotion.

"You want me. I can see it." Claudia's whole body was turned towards Alexia.

"Claudia we..."

"No. You. All our issues are actually your fears." Fire started filling Alexia's veins. "You're just a coward. You don't have the balls to take what you wan—"

Alexia took the wrong turn, and began driving in direction to her home, not Claudia's. It was closer and it had private parking. And her bed was there, if things escalated. Which theye were going to.

"What—"

"Silence."

Claudia gulped, the fight gone from her body. Alexia might have skipped a few traffic laws in order to get them there sooner, parking in her garden and exiting the car immediately. She swung open the passengers door, grabbing Claudia by the arm and quite literally dragging her inside.

The girl had very little time to stare at her surroundings and drink in Alexia's living space, before they reached the bedroom. She was not going to cower under Alexia's wrath, though. With a quick turn, that drove rival players insane, Claudia got on her tip toes and kissed Alexia, relishing in the way the captain returned the kiss.

But a sharp slap hit her ass.

"You need to be taught a lesson on repeat," decided Alexia. "I am your captain. For better or for worse. You will address me as such."

"Yes, capi," she breathed. Alexia gasped. She was still not used to that fucking nickname coming out of Claudia's pretty pink lips.

Still, she was not deterred. Alexia helped Claudia strip, who obeyed without protest, too enthralled by Alexia's sudden burst of passion. It was what she had been hoping for, by being a little more touchy with Salma than was necessary.

Once she was completely nude, Alexia sat on her bed, still dressed. She palmed her lap a clear non-verbal order. Claudia draped herself across her thighs, her ass right in front of Alexia, who squeezed one cheek.

"I presume you already know what is going to happen, you've been hoping for it, haven't you?"

"Yes, capi."

"You wanted this?" A harsh slap fell on the cheek she had been groping.

"Yes, capi."

"You understand this is a punishment, not a reward?"

"Yes, capi."

Another harsh slap on the other thigh.

"I would give you a count, but I don't want you to know how much is left."

Claudia gasped. It was as if Alexia already knew what she needed. The onslaught on her ass was non stopping. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, as she cried out. Claudia loved it.

Once her vision was blurry, and her throat was dry, Alexia's hand returned to gently squeeze the reddened skin.

"You were good, baby," she praised.

"Thank you, capi."

💙❤️

Claudia woke up later that evening. The sun was long gone, there was a dull throb on her backside, that had been clearly treated for the bruises with cream. A blanket was thrown over her body, and Alexia was sitting in silence by the foot of the bed.

"Capi?" she called with a stuttering voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure?"

Alexia's face was lined with worry. Claudia's body tensed, as if she could feel the thoughts swirling through her captain's head.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I really liked it, earlier. I—"

"It should not happen again."

Ah.

Claudia knew this would happen, in the back of her mind. Alexia clearly wanted her, there were already two instances of her doing exactly what she said they shouldn't, but the rejection still stung.

"Oh, c'mon. It's not a bad thing, I know you're hungry up with the age difference, and the captain thing, but I'm sure there is a way for HR to—"

"I said no, Claudia."

"Alright."

Furiously, Claudia got up from the bed, quickly finding her clothes and putting them on, even if it ached in the bruised areas of her ass. If Alexia still insisted she didn't want her, then Caludia would not beg forever.

"Wait, let me wash you up and make you some dinner at le—"

"No!" Interrupted Cludia with tears of frustration streaming down her face. "You don't get to reject me and then have aftercare. If you want to be all sweet and attentive, then fucking date me!"

Alexia looked hurt, but Caludia didn't care, storming off the house.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5])

question for you: it that only a reflection from set lights, or did agatha have tears in her eyes?

because, well, this is agatha. she's putting on a show, so you know that she's not as confident as she wants to appear. I imagine that suddenly turning into a ghost is not an easy adjustment. super interesting from a nerdy scholary prospective, but psychologically?? idk

billy, as usual, has to beg her to PLEASE BE SERIOUS FR

I toOK A calCULateD RiSK

whatever you say you big loser

then she demonstrates being a ghost by trying to slap billy. it's scientific and not ridiculous at all

at long last, and very, very late in the game she explains the nature of the Road to billy - and notice how she's still not able to be completely honest, despite all the previous moments they shared. the song means the world to her, but she's not ready to admit that yet.

the Road was very very very much real, and all the deaths that happened do count

I'll die on the hill that billy is a good person at heart. the tower, the potential for tragedy and destruction, is just that, a potential that the people in his life - the kaplans, eddie, the coven and yes, even agatha - are helping keep unfulfilled.

agatha shakes her head, gently, carefully. and we can see there has been some growth here: the first time billy supposedly killed someone she went on a whole speech about how Killing Makes You a Survivor Actually, a speech that was more about her than him. she's at least considering his feelings now

and btw agatha's "death" not being final like the others' doesn't cheapen the message at all. these are shows about dealing with / accepting mortality, and that is a journey agatha has just started. she (somehow, crying and screaming and flying by the seat of her pants) cheated death and will get herself a new body, and that's just one step forward and two steps back on her way to learn to finally stop running.

remember when nicky was upset about killing witches and agatha avoided the subject by singing a song to him, because she didn't know how to relieve a child of the guilt that was hers and only hers? she is trying now. she sees how this is devastating billy and she (badly) tries to absolve him. she is the one who lured the coven into a trap, who didn't disclose the nature of the Road, who very much killed alice.

and mark my words: she knows who sharon is, she absolutely remembers her name. I think she feels the most guilty about killing sharon, because with alice it was kind of an accident, but she went out of her way to doom this poor little lady, and she's been distancing herself from her with callous jokes since the beginning.

look at her face. this is Empathy. I've talked a lot about how for agatha it's easier to feel empathy for people with similar stories and backgrounds to hers. she felt it for wanda and ran from it. billy has the added quality of being perfect son material (I'll get to that in a minute) and right now? she knows what he's going through. she was once a girl born with the power to kill people, a power she didn't know how to stop, and it ruined her life and doomed everyone who crossed her path.

and she's still trying to have her cake and eat it too! consoling billy while still keeping her "whatever I don't care anyway" fake vibes. I'd say that she's matured a little, sure! from toddler to at least first grader. she even dares to roll her eyes when mentioning jen, this actual piece of ghostly turd.

please please please let jen come back in a marvel property that doesn't suck / hopefully written by jac and her team. please please please let us see what she does next

"should I go check on how agatha and billy are doing? nope screw them bye bye losers omw to rebuild my empire!" *nyoooooom*

(I don't know what I'd like to see more, jen becoming a force for good right away or still on the road to recovery, clashing heads with agatha.)

agatha takes a deep breath (can ghosts actually breathe tho) and gives billy a speech reminiscent of what she told nicky all those years ago. if you want to survive, get used to this feeling. we are supposed to read this interaction with the added context of her relationship with her own son (hence the callback). so why does agatha gives billy the nicky treatment now?

I think billy is all that agatha hoped and wanted nicky to be - a partner in crime who can keep up with her intelligence and sense of humor, a powerful witch she can pass her knowledge to, and a son who will love her and stick by her side no matter what. billy is the whole package, from the very beginning she couldn't see him as just the carrier of the very power she needed to bring nicky back; another hunger took over, the hunger to claim him and raise him as her own.

which brings us to the crucial question: why does agatha want a son? why did she have nicky in the first place? the answer, in true agatha fashion, is selfish, flawed, tragic, human. she wanted to fix her own childhood. she wanted to raise a version of herself who had all the love and support of a mother. and so she made sure that nicky had what she never had, including books and lessons to learn magic from. she tried to make him immune to life's heartbreaks - get used to this feeling, like she never could (because she never managed to make her own heart impervious, she only hid it away and tried to ignore it.) she essentially imagined her child as a a mini-me who committed all the same atrocities with no guilt or remorse and the added bonus of a mother cheerleading them on. another cheat sheet, a way to fix herself without actually working on her issues.

except nicky wasn't exactly what she had expected. he didn't like killing witches. instead of a talent for magic, he showed a talent for music and, credit where credit's due, agatha encouraged and nurtured it. when nicky died, agatha was on her way to accept that he was his own wonferful person and that being a parent is an exercise in selflessness. despite all her mistakes, she did one fundamental thing right: she loved nicky so freaking much, and was genuinely loved in return. who knows what could have happened if they were allowed to continue on that path.

billy is also very much his own person (not to mention almost and adult) so he simply won't let agatha project her issues all over him. (agatha is like, "challenge accepted.")

her love for billy is not in question, but now she has to be selfless and admit he doesn't exactly need mentoring in serial killing. what did billy need from the Road after all? it wasn't power. it was a sense of identity, a community, help in finding himself and his brother. agatha knows this perfectly, she's just *gestures in her general direction* like that.

go to episode 9 part 6

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 16

You can read previous chapters here.

Summary: An unexpected visit from Elain triggers Y/n, leading her to push everyone away again, but Azriel sees through her defenses. She begins to gain partial control over her powers after an emotional outburst and testing a new theory.

Warnings: angst, mention of death, and despair.

WC: 4.2K

The next time Y/n trained with Cassian, her demeanor was colder than usual. She didn’t even greet him, didn’t acknowledge him, she simply resumed her position without a word.

“You’re mad at me?” Cassian asked, his brows drawing together.

“I don’t care about you enough to be mad,” she snapped, glaring at him before returning to her exercise.

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Let’s just train,” she replied curtly, shutting him down. And back to the beginning they went.

Y/n was already in a foul mood that morning, but when Elain came uninvited, it tipped her over the edge. First, she had spoken to Nesta, and that had gone as poorly as expected. Hoping for a better outcome, Elain turned to Y/n. But she was wrong. 

When Y/n entered her room and found Elain seated in her armchair, her mood soured further.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice sharp. There were no greetings, no pleasantries, no trace of affection for her younger sister. Y/n saw Elain’s actions when she packed her belongings as a betrayal.

“I came to see you,” Elain said softly.

“Bold of you to assume I want anything to do with you,” Y/n shot back, her tone cutting.

“Y/n, don’t be like that.”

“You’re a traitorous bitch,” Y/n spat. “Nesta and I sat by your side for weeks while you refused to eat or drink. We didn’t interfere. We let you grieve. Gave you all the time you needed. No one seemed to have a problem with that.”

“You and Nesta were indulging in dangerous activities,” Elain argued, her tone hesitant but firm.

“Not eating and drinking are dangerous too,” Y/n retorted. “I just can’t believe you of all people would turn out to be a treacherous snake. All for what? So you can join Feyre’s little circle of clowns who think themselves better than everyone else?”

“You know that’s not true,” Elain protested, tears welling in her eyes.

“Isn’t it? Because the way I see it, the minute you got the opportunity to switch sides, you took it.”

“There are no sides, Y/n. You’re my sister, and I love you.”

“My sister died a long time ago,” Y/n said coldly, her voice barely above a whisper. “She was killed by the King of Hybern when he threw her into that damned Cauldron.” Angry words, full of hurt. Whether she meant them or not, it didn't matter, they already struck their target. 

“I-” Elain’s sucked in a sharp breath, tears slipping down her cheeks. “If you thought so, why did you stay by my side after?”

“Because I thought there was a part of my sister left in you. But I was wrong,” Y/n said, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “You’re just like the rest of them now. A High Fae, the very kind I despise.” More poisoned arrows, her tone dripping with hatred. If Elain didn’t leave soon, she didn’t know if she could stop herself.

“You don’t mean that,” Elain whispered, her voice breaking.

“I.mean.every.word,” Y/n enunciated harshly.

“You and Nesta are the same.”

“I’m worse,” Y/n said darkly. “Now leave, I don’t want to see you again.”

Cassian had barely managed to calm Rhys down after Elain stormed out, tears streaming down her face, telling him her sisters weren’t improving, weren’t even trying. She’d spent less than five minutes with either of them and had concluded that. After Rhys and Elain left, Cassian didn’t know where to start and who to talk to first.

From her room, Y/n heard the heated argument between Cassian and Nesta. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms until they broke the skin. Tiny beads of blood welled up, leaving faint red streaks on her hands.

Unable to stand the confines of her room any longer, she headed to the roof for fresh air. Minutes later, Cassian followed her, his steps heavy with frustration. 

“What the fuck happened with Elain?” he demanded, his voice harsh as he crossed his arms.

Y/n didn’t even turn to look at him. “You couldn’t get an answer from Nesta, so now you’re coming after me?”

“They think neither of you are improving.”

“Ah,” Y/n said bitterly, her tone dripping with mockery. “So this was an evaluation of our progress?”

“That’s not what I meant-“

“It’s true, though, isn’t it? And the best part? I don't care. I don’t care what Elain thinks of me, what Feyre, your High Lord, or anyone else does.”

Cassian frowned, his hands dropping to his sides. “You used to go head-to-head with anyone who dared look at your sisters the wrong way. And now this?”

“Things change,” she said coolly. “People change. And it’s not always for the better.”

“Not you,” he insisted, his voice softening. “Not this. There was nothing that could make you turn your back on your sisters.”

“They made their choice. And I made mine.”

“So, what?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “Now you’re just going to push everyone away like Nesta? Pretend you don’t care?”

“I SAID STOP COMPARING ME TO HER!” Y/n’s voice thundered, and with it, the sky answered. Lightning rippled through the clouds, illuminating the roof as rain began to fall. 

Cassian’s eyes widened a bit, his shoulders stiffening. “So you still have your powers?”

“Get out of here, General,” she muttered, her voice eerily calm. “Before I hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” she warned, her eyes glowing faintly as the storm above intensified. “I’m barely containing myself. I need you to leave before I lose control.”

Cassian studied her for a moment longer, his expression torn between concern and reluctant understanding. He realized she wasn’t threatening him but trying to contain the rest of her powers so she wouldn’t hurt him. She was holding back, but the effort wouldn’t last. If she continued suppressing it, she would explode, and he’d be caught in the aftermath. With a heavy sigh, he stepped back and left, casting one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the house.

Once he was gone, Y/n exhaled shakily, her fists still clenched at her sides. The storm above rumbled, the rain coming down harder now. She tilted her head back, letting the cold drops hit her face. And then, she let go.

The sky erupted. Lightning flashed across the dark clouds in jagged streaks, illuminating the heavens as thunder cracked violently around her. Y/n stood still, unflinching, as the tempest mirrored the chaos within. For the first time, she didn’t fight it, didn’t try to rein it in. She let her powers surge outward, merging with the storm above.

The release was almost euphoric. The rage, the pain, the frustration, it all poured out of her, feeding the storm. For once, she didn’t fear her power. She embraced it- owned it. She felt untouchable, invincible, as the rain drenched her to the bone, her heart pounding in her chest and her breaths coming fast and shallow. 

This power- it was something she had never viewed this way before. No longer something to be restrained or feared, it was a force to wield, to command. It was freeing, exhilarating. Now she finally understood- it was something to die for, and it was all hers.

When the tempest began to wane, her breaths steadied, and the rain slowed, turning into delicate snowflakes. 

This time, she did not faint. She had braced herself. She exhaled deeply, the last of her energy ebbing away, leaving her drained but at peace.

That night, as she prepared to sleep, a knock sounded at her door. She groaned softly, tugging her robe tighter around her as she moved to answer. To her surprise, Azriel stood on the other side, his wings tucked neatly behind him.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone neutral. Her long braid was half undone, and her transparent robe revealed the nightgown beneath it.

Azriel’s eyes flicked downward for the briefest moment before meeting hers again. “May I come in?”

She hesitated, her hand tightening on the door. After a moment, she sighed and stepped aside, allowing him in. Once he was inside, she closed the door and turned to face him, only to find him standing closer than she expected. She took an instinctive step back as his breath brushed her skin, her pulse quickening despite herself.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice quieter now, unsure.

“I heard about what happened today,” he said, his tone soft.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“I haven’t come to argue with you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I came to check on you,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering. “See how you were feeling.”

Her lips twisted into a faint, mocking smile. “Magnificent.”

“I’m serious,” Azriel said, his voice dropping a notch.

“So am I,” she countered. “I no longer fear my powers. I fully embraced them today, and it felt amazing. Freeing.”

A faint line appeared on his forehead as his eyebrows pinched. “So the thunderstorm was all you?”

She raised a brow. “Do you have them here often?”

He shook his head.

“Then you have your answer.”

“Do you know what triggered it?” he asked, his tone careful, measured.

Y/n’s expression shifted, “Rage, I think. This time it was rage. The other time- times, it was a mix of different emotions. The first time, it was fear. The second, pain. And now, rage.” She paused, meeting his gaze. “But every time, it happened when my emotions were…amplified.” 

She hesitated before continuing. “Today, after I let go, I felt in control. At first, I couldn’t stop it, but as it poured out of me, I realized I didn’t want it to stop. The power, it was alluring.”

Azriel studied her carefully, his shadows swirling faintly at his shoulders. “You weren’t scared?”

“Not one bit.”

“Can you summon it now?” he asked after a pause.

She blinked, taken aback by the question. “I…I don’t know.”

“Could you try?” he pressed.

“Why?”

“Don’t you want to know if you can harness it any time you want?” he countered.

Y/n’s expression darkened, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features. “Is that all? Or do you want to see if I am a danger to the people around me?”

“If you were, I wouldn’t ask you to try,” he replied calmly.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered almost bitterly. “You have your shields and shadows.”

His gaze softened. “I know you wouldn’t hurt the people you care about.”

“That’s not true,” she mumbled sourly.

“Physically, I mean,” he clarified. “Now, could you please show me?”

“But I’m not feeling anything right now,” she admitted, her voice softer.

“Does it matter which emotion it is?”

“I don’t know. So far, it’s been different each time.”

“May I try something?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Like what?” she asked warily, eyeing him.

“Close your eyes,” Azriel instructed and she raised a skeptical brow.

“Just trust me on this,” he said, his gaze fixed on her.

Y/n sighed but complied, closing her eyes reluctantly. 

He moved closer, his hand brushing hers before taking it gently in his grasp. She flinched at the contact, but he tightened his hold just enough to stop her from pulling away. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, opening her eyes. 

“Just trust me,” he repeated, his voice a murmur. “Close your eyes.”

She huffed, her skepticism plain. “I don’t think I can do that while you're holding my hand hostage.”

He snorted at her choice of words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

She rolled her eyes but closed them again, letting out a resigned sigh. “Alright, you have one chance.” Why she agreed and listened to his instructions, she couldn’t quite explain.

His thumb traced slow, soothing circles over the back of her hand as he stepped behind her. His other hand gently lifted the braid that rested over her neck, letting it fall to one side. The soft brush of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

“What exactly are you trying to achieve here?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. She tried to glance over her shoulder, but he stilled her with a quiet word.

“Now,” he said gently, “picture the most beautiful place you can think of.”

She frowned mildly but followed his instruction. “Alright. Now what?”

“Think of someone you love,” he said quietly.

Her brows knitted together, her expression tightening. “You’re aiming for the wrong emotion,” she said bluntly. “My feelings are… very complicated right now. I don’t even know if I’m capable of love anymore.” 

“You are,” he replied firmly, his grip on her hand steady. “I’ve seen it– in the way you love your sisters, even if it doesn’t seem that way right now.”

Y/n said nothing, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Azriel’s tone softened as he added, “But that’s not what I was aiming for. I meant something- someone… more intimate.”

“Like a lover?” she asked dryly.

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“You’re asking me to think about someone I love,” she began, frowning again, “but if I presumably loved someone in the past and we’re not together anymore, it means I don’t love them anymore. So this doesn’t make sense.” 

She opened her eyes and turned to face him, her brows furrowing as she questioned his logic. The motion brought their faces closer than she’d realized, the tip of her nose brushing against his. The unintended closeness startled her, her breath hitching as a rush of heat surged through her. Her heart skipped a beat, the scent of cedar and night-chilled mist filling the small space between them. Her pulse quickened, and she struggled to ignore the pull she felt, the way her body seemed to react on its own.

In that fleeting moment, a jolt of energy sparked between them, crackling at her fingertips and sending a faint shiver up her spine.

Azriel’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression unreadable as the faint crackle of electricity escaped from her fingertips. A flicker of lightning danced across the sky outside, its glow briefly illuminating the room.

“There,” he murmured as he gestured toward the window behind her.

Y/n blinked, the weight of what just happened slowly sinking in. Her heart raced as she turned her face away from him to check. He hadn’t let go of her hand, not that either of them seemed to notice in the moment. 

“What did you think of just now?” he asked, his tone careful, though his gaze remained fixed on her.

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat dry. A simple question, yet it felt impossible to answer. What could she say? That it had been him? That the proximity, his presence, had been enough to shatter her defenses and ignite her power? Her pulse roared in her ears, she couldn’t lie to him, but she also couldn’t tell him the truth. So she settled on deflection. 

She closed her eyes again, forcing her focus on that feeling, that ripple of power coursing through her. No storm this time, but lightning struck and struck, sharp and controlled. Azriel watched intently as she concentrated, her face set with determination. The temperature in the room dropped noticeably, an eerie calm settling over them.

“Congratulations,” he said quietly. “You seem to be able to summon it at will.” He let out a condensed breath, his shadows flickering subtly around him.

She finally opened her eyes, and the lightning ceased. “I might be able to control it once it’s started,” she admitted, her voice edged with a trace of frustration, “but I didn’t summon it. It just… happened and that’s the part I need to master.”

“Well I am no expert, but I know someone who could help you,” he offered carefully.

“No.” Her reply was immediate and sharp. She stepped back from him, her hand slipping out of his grasp as she put distance between them. “I don’t want anything to do with her.”

“How do you even know who I was going to suggest?” Azriel asked, his tone even but curious.

“You were going to say your High Lord’s second-in-command,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I won’t see her or anyone from your little circle of friends. It’s enough that I’m training with your brother. Don’t push my limits.”

Azriel sighed, the corners of his mouth tightening. “I wasn’t going to. It was just a suggestion.”

“One you knew I’d never agree to,” she countered, her voice thick with irritation. “Yet you still brought it up… you should leave.”

His expression tightened, a faint furrow appearing between his brows. “Are you always so easily irritable?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “I am trying my best to be civil, but you lot don’t make it easy.”

“Is that why you surrounded yourself with all those drug addicts?” Azriel blurted. “Because they couldn’t form two sentences? Couldn’t get to know you?”

Her eyes flashed with anger as she met his gaze. “I surrounded myself with them because they’re as miserable as I am,” she snapped. “We understood each other. And we didn’t need to talk about our feelings. There’s a bliss in forgetting, and all you lot want to do is shove me into a world where everyone is happy and perfect, I despise it- despise them.”

Azriel didn’t interrupt, his face still unreadable as she continued.

“At least with them,” she went on, her voice taut with frustration, ”being around those people you so disapprove of did not make me feel like shit. They didn’t judge me or force me to do anything I didn’t want to. I cannot say the same about your friends.” Her gaze narrowed, anger and vulnerability flashing in equal measure. “And don’t tell me what you’re doing is because you care about me, and that I’m going down the wrong path, and that it’s for my best, blah, blah, blah. I’m not stupid, Shadowsinger. I know what I’m doing.” Her voice broke a bit as she finished, barely above a whisper. “I just don’t have the will to live anymore.” 

The room fell into an oppressive silence. Y/n’s chest heaved with the weight of her confession, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground. She refused to meet his gaze, hating how her voice had betrayed her, as her carefully constructed walls crumbled under his quiet presence. She hated it all, every part of it- the way he seemed to see through her, the way he refused to leave, the way he always managed to slip past the barriers she worked so hard to maintain. The way he made her heart soften at times, despite her best efforts. The way, even after she’d pushed him away, he always found a way back it

This day had been long and horrible. She’d just shown Azriel a side of herself that she’d never shown anyone, confessed something she hadn’t even dared to voice aloud before. 

“That’s a lie,” Azriel said softly. His tone wasn’t mocking, but firm, yet gentle. “If that were true, you would’ve ended your life.”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged, a long, broken sigh escaping her lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. If I did, everything would stop. I don’t deserve a quick and painless ending.” Her voice cracked once again, and she hated herself for it.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stop? Why couldn’t she push him away this time? Why was she confessing all of this? Stop- she needed to stop.

Azriel’s hazel eyes darkened, his shadows tightening around him. “So you’re punishing yourself?”

She drew in a shuddering breath, then exhaled slowly. “I said enough,” she whispered, a faint tremor in her tone.

Azriel didn’t push further, sensing the thin thread of control she clung to. Instead, he shifted the subject suddenly. “Your theory was right.” 

“What?” She blinked in confusion.

“Your powers,” he explained, gesturing toward the window where another crack of lightning lit up the sky. “They’re connected to how you feel. When your emotions are heightened, they manifest.” Her eyes followed his gesture for a moment, her expression hardening slightly as the realization sank in. She hadn’t even noticed this time as the storm raged outside.

She turned her glare on him, her frustration mounting once more. “You did all of this just to test a theory?”

“Not intentionally,” he admitted. “But when I mentioned Amren and saw how irritable you became, I noticed how your powers responded almost immediately. How your body reacted. How your powers slipped past you so easily.”

Her glare sharpened. “So you let me ramble just to see what might happen?”

“No,” he replied immediately, his voice resolute. “You needed to let all of that out. I hope you feel better now.”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

“I’m not your enemy, Y/n,” he spoke softly, his tone unshaken, almost gentle, as he let out a faint exhale.

“You’re not my friend either,” She shot back, the words biting.

“You’re upset,” Azriel acknowledged calmly. “I’ll take my leave, then.” With his hands buried in his pockets and his head dipping slightly, he took a couple of tentative steps backward before turning toward the door. 

“So you’re just going to run away?” she demanded, her voice rising.

Azriel stilled mid-step, then turned back to face her. “I’m not... Do- do you want me to stay? If you need someone to yell at, to vent to, I’ll stay.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” she muttered, running her hands through her hair as she began pacing the room. Her frustration was growing with every passing second.

He watched her carefully, his sharp gaze noticing every subtle shift- the way her body tensed, the reluctance to let him in, the struggle within between pushing him away and letting him in, the confusion, and the exhaustion. 

“Take a deep breath, Y/n,” he instructed calmly.

He considered reaching out to her but held back, knowing that in her current state, she likely wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. Even though what she probably needed most at that moment was a hug.

She spun on her heel to glare at him again. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she barked.

“Alright,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’ll just sit here till you’ve calmed down.”

“You’re going to be sitting there a long time,” she hissed, each answer like a snake spitting venom on its prey, her eyes burning with barely contained fury as he nails dug into her palms. 

But Azriel did not flinch. He did not move, did not budge. His calm presence was infuriating, steady against the storm she tried to unleash on him, as if daring her to throw everything she had his way. 

“That’s fine,” he replied evenly, settling himself in a chair.

Y/n stared at him, her breathing uneven. She wanted to scream at him, shove him out, anything to make him leave. But the fight drained out of her with every breath. “No it’s not. I need you to leave.”

“Why?” he pressed.

“Because I don’t want you here.” She tried to keep herself composed, but the crack in her voice deepened.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I don’t care,” she replied, though her voice betrayed her as it broke entirely.

“You do.”

“Stop- please just leave.” Her words were softer now, her pacing slowing, her body sagging under the weight of her emotions. She was tired. Too tired to fight, to talk, to pretend. Too tired to do anything.

“I will, once I make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though even she didn’t believe the words.

“You’re far from it, but that’s alright,” Azriel said gently.

Y/n let out a long, shuddering breath, her hands trembling slightly as she finally stilled. “I don’t have the energy to fight you anymore,” she admitted, her tone weary, defeated.

“Then don’t,” Azriel said simply. “Just get some rest.” 

How could he be so composed, so calm? She did not let herself think about anything- she could not.  Too drained to argue, too exhausted to pretend any longer, Y/n climbed into her bed. Her body felt heavy as she closed her eyes, hoping all of this was just a bad dream. 

Azriel stayed, his shadows curling protectively around her as he watched her, almost as if they’re trying to soothe or comfort her. He waited until her breathing evened out and the tension in her features melted away as she slipped into sleep.

The temperature in the room had dropped drastically, the cold biting at his skin. Moving quietly, he crossed to the windows and closed them. Luckily, the house responded, lighting a fire in her room.

“Sweet dreams, Stormbringer,” he murmured, pulling her blanket up to tuck her in with gentle care.

For a moment, he lingered, his gaze fixed on her now-peaceful form. A hint of a smile crossed his face. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned and slipped out of the room, his shadows following in his wake.

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[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 79: Oliver's Questions

tw: mind control

Previous > Masterlist

October 1925

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Oliver? May I come in?" It sounded like Emily.

"Sure," he said, not especially in the mood for talking, but wanting to be out of his own head for a moment.

He heard the click of the door unlocking, and Emily pocketed the key as she walked into the room. "Vivian thought maybe it'd be a good idea for me to check on you. How are you doing?"

"I'm managing."

"Have you heard your master -- your former master's voice?"

"No. But I will tell you if I do." The least he could do for Emily and Vivian was to try to resist and let them know right away. Purposefully betraying them after they'd gone through this effort to save him was unthinkable.

"I think I might understand a little about how you feel, you know. Defending Alexander even though he's a monster."

"You do?"

"I mean, Jessica was awful through and through. She robbed me of everything and treated me like a housecat. I'm glad that she's dead. But still, sometimes… I think a part of me misses the certainty." She curled in on herself a bit. "I don't know what I'm going to do now that I'm freed. It's back to nasty jobs that pay peanuts, while trying to find time and energy to make art good enough to sell, I suppose. Struggling every day. I guess it was nice not to struggle for a while, even if it was a terrible situation."

"Yeah," said Oliver. "I understand. I wasn't struggling like you before the vampires, but it still was nice to feel like I had a purpose, even if it was feeding a vampire."

"I think if Jessica had been just a little bit nicer to me, the way Alexander was to you, I would feel a lot more conflicted," she said. "But you know that he didn't really care about you, right? I don't think monsters like that can feel real feelings."

"…Yeah." Even if she were right, it was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

"If Alexander really cared about you, he wouldn't have put you through all of that with his sire. He would have protected you, or stood up to him, or hidden you away, or something. Instead, he told you that he'd never let you free. That's what you said, wasn't it?"

"It is."

She must be right. It wasn't as though Oliver hadn't had that same thought, even while enthralled. His show of being caring was always a convenient lie to keep Oliver happy and docile.

But then, he thought of how tenderly Alexander had cared for him after he was blinded, how he reassured Oliver and soothed him to sleep with his song. He thought of Alexander by his bedside when he was sick, feeding him warm soup and wiping his forehead with a cool washcloth. Small comforts, perhaps, but more than Oliver had before.

"I suppose… a part of me wishes he did actually care about me, and that's why I don't want Vivian to kill him."

"…I get it," said Emily quietly. "I'm sorry I was so harsh on you earlier, but honestly, I do understand. I once had a lover… it's a shameful story, but I guess you've seen me in the lap of a vampire, so it's not like I have any dignity left. I once had a lover who showered me with gifts and affection, and made me feel like I was someone special -- when he was sober and in a good mood. When he wasn't, he was a nightmare. You can probably imagine it. And it took me such a long time to understand that if he truly loved me, he wouldn't treat me that way, not ever. Even when I did, it took me even longer to leave, because I wished he would be someone different, someone who actually cared."

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be. Lesson learned."

"You shouldn't have had to go through that to learn a lesson," said Oliver. "But I do understand what you mean. I'm not sure if it's quite the same since Alexander certainly wasn't my lover, just…"

What was Alexander to him, exactly? His friend? His master? Neither of those could really captured the unwavering devotion, the powerful draw he'd felt.

The draw he was feeling even now, knowing how manufactured it was.

Tears sprang to Oliver's eyes as he was overcome by a wave of deep sadness, and although he'd been sad all night, this felt both foreign and strangely familiar, feelings that weren't his own, a sense of loss and melancholy and grief coming from far away, tethering him to…

"Oliver, what is it? You've gone so pale."

"Alexander. I can feel him. I think he's calling to me."

"Oh, no -- I'll go get Vivian right now." Emily rushed from the room.

It wasn't like a song, now. It was comprised of images, emotions. The library, cold and dark, Alexander weeping and calling him back. Oliver tried to push it away -- nothing more than a jailer upset that his inmate escaped. But he couldn't truly believe that, not with Alexander's own emotions clouding his mind.

"Go away," Oliver whispered to the empty room. "Leave me alone. Stop tormenting me with this."

"Emily said you've heard your former master?" Vivian was standing over him with furrowed brow.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. I can feel what he's feeling. It's almost unbearable."

"That's the blood connection." She looked out of the window, where the sky was growing lighter. "The sun will be up soon. If you can endure it until then, the vampire's power will fade when the sun rises. Do you think you could do that?"

"I think so." He didn't seem to really have a choice, not unless he wanted to betray Vivian and go running back to the manor.

"It'd be best if you could stay up for most of the day, to start to get used to a human schedule again. I can find ways to keep you busy and take your mind off things. And then when night comes around, I could give you something to make you sleep, so that you don't have to endure vampires intruding on your mind. How does that sound?"

Oliver nodded. "I don't think I've ever really thanked you for your help. You don't need to do all of this for me."

"It's my job," she said. "Besides, no one else has ever provided me such a treasure trove of information about my sworn enemy. It's been well worth it."

Oliver anxiously watched the sky outside his window, feeling as though the sunrise might never come, as though the vampire's power might endure forever. But of course the sun rose once again, and as Vivian predicted, Alexander's feelings faded away as the sun crested over the buildings.

He was exhausted, but found a second wind of energy helping Jenny prepare breakfast and eating a sizable portion of it himself, along with ample coffee. Emily overslept and dragged herself down the stairs just as they were about to clean up from the meal, pouring and chugging what coffee remained.

After breakfast, Vivian assigned Emily and Jenny chores, in particular taking care of Bobby, an erased thrall unable to care for himself. Oliver was reminded once more of all of the grievous harm of the auction house, even if he himself had escaped the worst treatment. Lily had done those things, and Alexander was more than complicit.

"What would you like me to do, Vivian?" he asked, more than eager for some work to quiet his mind.

"I was hoping you could accompany me to the grocer's and the butcher's, to restock the pantry. It would help to have an extra set of arms to carry back the food."

Oliver looked at Vivian's arms, recalling her struggle with Alexander. She was clearly far stronger than Oliver, and he suspected that needing someone to carry bags was an excuse to make Oliver feel helpful. Regardless, he thought that the fresh air would do him good. "I'd be happy to help."

"Great! Here, there's some spare coats in the closet. See if one fits you."

Soon enough, Oliver was out the door, blinking in the midday sun. He'd had so little sun, especially since he'd been sleeping in Alexander's room instead of his own. People were bustling about on the sidewalk, a mailman was making his way down the street, and all of the shops were open. The leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, but the foliage that was left was drenched in reds and golds. Oliver realized that he hadn't actually been outside during the day since his capture.

"You must have missed this," said Vivian as they walked to the grocery store. "Ordinary human life, I mean."

"I guess I did." In the light of day, it was a lot easier to put the world of vampires behind him as though it were all a bad dream. Under Alexander's spell, he didn't realize how much he had missed being able to simply walk down the street to a shop on a crisp fall day. He thought of sitting in the park among the autumn trees, reading a book and watching the people walk by, as he had liked to do on breaks. How much had the vampires stolen from his mind, to make him forget all of this, to make him content without it!

Even the ordinary grocer's was a delight. He'd always had plenty of food in the manor, and Alexander had bought him whatever he put down on a list, but there was a simple pleasure in looking over the grocer's wares and choosing it all himself. Vivian was mulling over whatever was cheapest or on sale to feed herself and the thralls back in the safehouse, and Oliver trailed along, carrying her purchases and making suggestions.

In the harsh light of day, with a clearer head, it was easier to see the vampires for what they were -- monsters who had stolen his life from him.

And yet, there was still a nagging part of him who felt like he didn't quite belong here, not any more. Not now that he knew that vampires and their establishments were all over the city. Not when he'd been getting so used to being on Alexander's arm, serving him and accompanying him.

He'd been the perfect thrall, supposedly, and although Alexander could have just been saying that to keep Oliver mollified, Oliver really couldn't deny how comfortable he'd felt in the role. Even as he was enjoying a sunny afternoon in the city, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was just playacting as a normal person. Alexander had convinced him so swiftly and so thoroughly that he belonged as a thrall that Oliver feared he might never be able to shake it.

But didn't that mean Vivian was right? Oliver would never be safe as long as Alexander and his sire were out there, beckoning him to return. And even if Oliver himself managed to escape, Alexander would only take some other poor soul and turn him into his slave. Leaving him alive would only be condemning person after person to be ripped away from the world of humans and trapped in the dangerous world of vampires.

The thought of Alexander taking someone else as his thrall made him sick.

If Alexander really was going to spend decades or centuries taking human after human, it would be wrong to leave him alive, wouldn't it? As much as that made rational sense, he couldn't accept it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said as they carried the groceries home.

"I was thinking about what you said before -- about how you need to kill Alexander. I confess that I still don't like it, not at all, but maybe… maybe it is the right thing to do." His heart ached from betrayal even as he said it, unable to convince himself.

"Thank you. I know it must be a hard thing for you to consider," she said. "I do understand your reluctance, at least a little bit. I did see you in your gilded cage. I saw that he treated you decently."

"He did." Oliver couldn't help but be mortified at the next question he wanted to ask, but he knew he needed to ask it anyway -- the question he'd been turning over and over in his mind since the ritual. "Vivian, you know a lot about vampires, right?"

"I'm not the world's foremost expert or anything, but I like to think I do, or else I'd be dead by now."

"Do you think it's possible -- god, this must sound ridiculous to you. But do you think it's possible for a vampire to care about a person? Not just for their blood, or as a servant, but actually care for them as a friend?"

"No," said Vivian immediately. "Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but no, they can't."

"I thought that's what you'd say."

"I've seen a lot of vampires in my time. Some of them treat their thralls well, like Alexander. Some of them beat their thralls, or chain them to the wall, or erase their minds to make them as helpless as a baby. Some of them don't keep thralls at all, but prey on people they find on the street, or in their places of business. The circumstances are always different, but there's one thing every vampire has in common -- they all prey on innocent people. No matter how gentle a vampire may seem, they still desire human blood above all else, and are driven to keep humans as their possessions."

"I see."

"You were a very prized possession of your master, I don't doubt that. He did value you. But if your happiness were actually his concern, he wouldn't have taken you from your bookshop. He wouldn't have had to hypnotize you into believing you were happy if he could actually make you happy. Don't you think so?"

"I suppose so," said Oliver. "I think you're probably right. It just hurts to realize. I guess a part of me…"

"A part of you what?"

"Never mind." He didn't actually know Vivian that well, and couldn't bring himself to say it, how a part of him wished that someone else in the world actually did care about him. "I suppose I'm also apprehensive, because if I'm to be free of Alexander, what should I do with my life now? That must sound terribly pathetic."

"No, it doesn't. Most thralls aren't sure what to do with themselves once they're freed, especially if they've been enthralled for years, or if they've been under a very deep spell, like you were."

"What do they end up doing?"

"Some of them return to whatever they were doing before they were taken, of course. But for a lot of them, that's not really possible. Being a thrall seems to change them in ways I don't even fully understand. And for those who have spent years or even decades in a vampire's service, the ordinary world of daylight is as foreign as the surface of the moon," she said. "Some of them are so lost that they end up in a madhouse or prison, or worse, find themselves a new vampire master. I can't say hunters look too kindly on thralls who are rescued, only to sell themselves back to the god damned auction house."

"I won't do that," said Oliver, wishing he actually felt as confident as he was trying to sound.

"Good. If you have the stomach for it, and are interested, sometimes former thralls become part of the hunter's guild. You see, one of the things that makes it difficult for thralls to return to their lives is the fact that no one believes them or understands the experience they went through. In the guild, you'd be surrounded by people who know all about vampires and other supernatural creatures."

"Oh, I don't think I could do that. I've never been the slightest bit athletic. I could never fight a vampire, even a weak one."

"You wouldn't have to fight. The hunters get the glory and the spoils, but there's a lot of other work to be done. If you have an education, they could use people capable of doing research."

"Research, hm…" Oliver couldn't deny that that might be a good fit for him, with his expertise in rare and unusual books. He wondered what sort of rare and interesting books the hunter's guild might hold. "Vivian, if you kill Alexander, what would happen to his library?"

"When a vampire is killed, it's customary to split the spoils among the hunter who killed it, the guild in general, and any thralls left behind. We'd each be entitled to a portion of what Alexander owns."

"I see." Even if he could accept that Alexander must die, it felt absolutely ghoulish to talk about splitting up his possessions. "If you were to kill him… do you think you could make sure that his library ends up in good hands? There's an absolute treasure trove of rare information there, one that would take multiple human lifetimes to recreate."

"Of course! I think you'd be uniquely qualified to catalog it. The guild would want their share, but they would be glad to accept an expert's opinion. And I'm only interested in money and things that are easy to sell. I'm not the reading type."

"Maybe… maybe that's something I could do, then." Something to distract from the guilt he felt pre-emptively, both for betraying his vampire master and for being one of the thralls lucky enough to be rescued when he wasn't even sure that he wanted it.

Previous > Masterlist

Thanks for reading! Next week, Vivian and Oliver both lose their patience.

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[eclipsethemagic]

Kiss me |JJK|

Summary: you and Jungkook have been together for quite some time now, but you haven't made your relationship public. So what happens when he kisses you under the mistletoe?

Paring: idol jungkook x!female reader

Genre: fluff, angst-ist

Song of the day: Only by: LeeHi

[s.masterlist]

w.c: 2,010

Jeon Jungkook never seems to amaze you. He's a big old goof who you so happen to end up dating. And as much as you tell him everyday that you don't know how he won your heart, you do. From the first day you met him randomly at a club that him, Taehyung and Yoongi was at. He was the first person you laid eyes on. He was the one to walk up to you, his English a little rusty but he was trying his best. He bought you a drink, told you how pretty you were, and how he loved to get to know you more.

You sworn up and down that he wouldn't text you once you gave him your number. But he surprised you. He called you the very next day, and he took you out to dinner. What surprised you the most is when he told you who he was, and what he did for a living. And as much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn't. You actually laughed in his face. But the way he looked at you, you knew he wasn't joking. So he gave you time to think, was he worth it? To date? You didn't know at that time. After your date you looked him up, watched a couple of videos and then you knew.

Jungkook couldn't take no for an answer, by the 5th date you were his. He even had you on his lockscreen to prove it. And his poor hyungs, he fought tooth and nail to let him bring you to Korea so they could meet you. The guys and you got along the first day you met, and Yoongi was your best friend. Maybe it was the simple fact you both had the same birthdays, or the fact that you two act exactly alike when it came to Jungkook and it was that you both wanted him to be happy. So being with him for two years you had everything down pact, you two were careful when you were out in America or Korea. You even covered him in pictures your family posted on holidays so his relationship wasn't exposed. But after all that hiding here you are, staring at your phone, on Christmas Day, downstairs in Yoongi's apartment ready to kill the love of your life.

"How the hell did you get drunk and posted our pictures Jungkook!" You whine as you stomp your feet. Jungkook fights the smile that starts to form on his lips at your cute little tantrum. You had on your hello kitty sleeping shorts and a white shirt you stole from him that was way too big. Jungkook wanted to take you serious, he did, but how can he take you serious when you pout like that? "Jungkook-ah this is serious dude how could you do that? Out of all the times you slipped up, you never slipped up this bad." Another voice is heard in the room. Beside him is Taehyung who as sleepy as he is, he's way more concerned than the guy next to him.

"Who said it was an accident?" He puts his bottom lip in between his lips as he sucks on it, you whine again this time holding up the phone for him to look at the screen. It was a very cute picture of you two. Underneath the mistletoe, your hair was curled and the pretty little pale pink dress hugged your curves perfectly. Jungkook had his hand on the middle of your back, your arms around his neck as he leans in to kiss your lips. The picture was taken by Jimin who drunkly sent it to Jungkook telling him to post it. And Jungkook drunkenly listened to the idiot. Who listens to a drunk person by the name of park jimin who gotten drunk off of a bottle of vodka? Jungkook that's who.

Jimin sighs as he curls up against his best friend, opening his eyes for a moment then closing them again. "Look, I'm sorry I shouldn't have told him to post it. It's my fault y/n." You wanted to be mad at him, you did. But you also knew that Jimin wouldn't do it to hurt you, it wasn't in his nature too. Jungkook on the other hand, you felt like he did it on purpose. And knowing your bunny boyfriend, he probably did. For months Jungkook wanted to show the world that you were his, his precious little y/n but you were worried about his fans and the media. But if the fans didn't like you then they wasn't fans of his. So maybe drunk him did the necessary steps for him.

And it wasn't like the fans hated you. For the first time in Jungkook's life and career for that matter he never seen so many positive comments about a person he showed or told about in his life. Even Seokjin was shocked when he looked at this phone early this morning. But you, poor y/n. You just couldn't handle it. You were scared. Anyone would be scared if they was put in your shoes and if they wasn't, they would have been lying right now. Then you had so many followers piling up that you had to turn your profile on private on instagram. Twitter as well which you don't know they found that one. It wasn't even under your name.

"Just breathe hm? It's Christmas Day and as much as you want to stress over this lovely mistake that I blame Jimin for." Jimin lets out a little grunt that makes Taehyung chuckle next to him rubbing his best friend back a little telling him that it wasn't necessary his fault. "It's not as bad as you think baby." Your boyfriend smiles, giving you a lopsided grin as he gets up from his seat on the couch and walks over to you. He puts his hands on your hips and gives you a little squeeze before looking down at you. His doe brown eyes staring back at you.

"What if they find my high school pictures and expose me? I was pretty ugly back then." Jungkook lets out a deep laugh, his whole body shakes and he shakes his head and kisses the top of your head. "You're laughing but I'm being serious Jeon. Everyone wasn't as pretty as you."

"You thought Jungkook was cute? Are we talking about the same Jungkook?" Seokjin says when he finally comes down the stairs. Jungkook rolls his eyes at his hyung, letting out a scoff. "You are one of my biggest haters, I could be doing the most sexist thing for my girlfriend and you would still turn around and say I'm ugly." Seokjin just shrugs and goes to sit next to Taehyung. "Anyway. Baby it's okay just think now we don't have to hide anymore. I can finally take you out on a real date, one that doesn't acquire Chinese food at my apartment with Bam trying to eat the food." But you liked that. You liked hiding, it was the thrill of everything. Even if you and Jungkook almost got caught that one time when he wanted you to send him pictures of your new lingerie set he picked out. It was the thrill. Maybe that's why Jungkook called you his little daredevil.

"We can finish this conversation later." You sigh and pull away from him. Jungkook could tell that your mood had change right when you woke up. Yeah maybe posting the picture was a bit too much. As you walk upstairs and Yoongi following after you, Jungkook turns around and grabs a pillow from Yoongi's couch and chucks it at a sleeping hang over Jimin, and when Jimin lets out the biggest groan and sits up from his spot Jungkook runs out the living room.

Later on that night Jungkook sneaks little glances at you here and there when he sees you talking to him mom. Jungkook's apartment was filled with bodies everywhere just like how Yoongi's was the night before. You haven't talked to him ever since this morning, and it hurt his soul. You also didn't give him a kiss when he dropped you off at his apartment so he could grab some things for the party. Jungkook didn't think he fucked up that bad, but he also didn't understand that not everyone wants to be put in the spotlight.

Jungkook chose this, you didn't. So maybe he should be more understanding. With a little bit of liquid courage Jungkook walks over to you. You laugh at something his mother says when he taps your shoulder. You turn your head, looking at him for a moment. "Yeah?" You say, the music around you bumping underneath your feet. Jungkook bends down to your height, you feel his  breath in your ear bring a shiver down your spine. "Can we talk in the kitchen please?" A sigh leaves your lips but you nod, giving his mother a small smile telling her you'll be back and you feel Jungkook's hand grab yours and you two walk into his kitchen.

Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off of you, the dark red sweater makes you look so small compared to him, he notices you bite your lip softly before looking at him. "If this is your way of trying to apologize can't it wait until later?" Jungkook hears the irritation in your voice as you speak to him. In Jungkook's offense it could, but he wouldn't have any alcohol to do so. "I'm sorry, for not taking you serious this morning. I just, when I posted the picture last night I didn't think it was a big deal. We been together for almost three years and I just thought that you'll be ready to make it public and I was wrong to assume." Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand, rubbing his thumb against your knuckle. "You're right, it is up to you to say I'm ready, and I understand some people aren't ready for the spotlight and you are one of those people. Baby I sincerely apologize, and if you want me to take the picture down I will, and I'll also tell army to leave you alone if you want mamas anything for you."

Jungkook's apology really made you feel bad. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, yell in his face and tell him how much of a fucking dick head he was, you couldn't. Because you knew Jungkook didn't mean to hurt you in any way. "I forgive you kookie." For the first time that night you smile at him, bring him at ease. He's surprise that his tipsy brain could handle the conversation. Jungkook sighs and pulls you into a hug. "Next time when we have a fight can we actually talk about it and not let it linger?" You hear Jungkook mumble on the top of your head. You giggle and nod putting your head against his chest. You go to open your mouth but a little thing catches your eye.

"Say, did you pull me in the kitchen because you knew it was a mistletoe?" Jungkook pulls away from you and looks up, and he sees the tiny little Christmas decoration hanging over you both. Your boyfriend shrugs and looks back down at you, giving you a toothy grin. "Could I get it kiss if it wasn't up there?"

"Would you accidentally post pictures again if I let you?" Jungkook laughs and bends down, his lips brushing up against yours slightly. "Would it be a bad thing?" He tilts his head just a bit, and you laugh a little hitting his chest a little before getting on your tippy toes to put your lips on his.

[marchsfreakshow]

Bewitching [Jimmy Darling]

Fluff? // Hurt/comfort

Opening for Elsa was always a disheartening task. But with Jimmy by your side, how could you keep that frown on your face?

I'm literally amazing everyone thank ICP for creating the song 'Bewitching' because I listened to that song and oh my god; ideas. This is also increasingly stupid lol

No one's perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ��꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Elsa was always the star of the show. It was how it went. Ever since you arrived. No matter how many times you argued with her German persuasion, you eventually caved in. However, you were just a regular person. No deformations or things that were different to the general public.

You were just beautiful.

Elsa wanted to 'floral' up the show a bit before her entrance, and the way she did that was with you. Hours upon hours; you, Ma Petite and Eve created something. Something all of you were convinced wouldn't work.

There on the stage, a flower pot to hold you, some sort of paper mache flower, roots, stems and leaves. Things that could be manuvered easily with just your arms and legs.

The first time Elsa saw it, your heart sort of dropped in nerves. She just stared for a few minutes in silence, unfeeling and unemotional. "It is fine. Put it away until the show tonight."

"Wait I haven't even practiced anything yet!"

"Then practice now!" And she walked off without another word.

"...fuck." you shakily whispered. Nerves, worries and insecurities hitting you like a fucking truck. Part of you, okay all of you, was convinced Elsa didn't want this idea anymore. She saw what was made and now it was so stupid. You'd end up distracting everyone and no one would want to hear her sing anymore. She was convinced people would stay for her performance. Only a half-truth. People wanted the shock value of the freaks. They wanted to make their evening watching the ones who were disregarded from this world.

This whole idea was juvenile now. It felt juvenile. Stupid and worthless. No one would care for this. No one would believe it. They'd call you out, walk out of the place and- "Hey. You got this.." Jimmy's voice snapped you out of your stare, and you rubbed your face of any visible despair. "C'mere.." He placed his hand, hesitantly, on the small of your back, walking you towards the fake plant pot. But, Jimmy did relax when you relaxed into his touch, rather than arching your back away.

Watching the others gather themselves, and sit in the audience seats. "You got this sweetheart, we're all supportin' you." Desirée's reassurance definitely helped you, and you took a deep breath. Hiding yourself in the pot for a moment. You never performed before. Not even a silly little song for Jimmy when it was just you two.

Looking up to Jimmy, you gave a small nod, and he gave a confident smirk. He was used to this...but it never stopped his own insecurities. "Come one! Come all! Witness with your very own eyes, a rarity that was rumoured to exist until...now!"

You raised a hand, paper leaves sticking out of your arm from your glove.

"Found deep within a dark, remote cavern... somewhere beyond the farthest reaches of the Orient!"

Your other arm raised on the other side, darker paper leaves shimmering under dim sunlight as your arms moved hesitantly. Jimmy glanced down at you before he spoke again. A reassuring wink thrown your way.

Jimmy slowly sidestepped around the fake flower pot, continuing his monologue. "Her intense beauty is extremely enchanting...yet she's also the most dangerous..lethal plant known to man!"

You heard everyone give little whoops and cheers. It boosted your confidence and made you feel like you were on top of the world. Jimmy's voice was soothing somehow, despite the fact he was reciting a new monologue that you had written together a few hours prior. "Fine people!"

"Feast your eyes upon the breathtaking.." Jimmy stood behind you, ready to help you up if needed. "Yum Yum Flower!" You shot up in an instant, your eyes meeting everyone within seconds. The sweat on your forehead felt like it was burning your skin, but you blinked and gathered your mindless thoughts. One ankle crossed over the other, keeping pretend lustful eye contact with the men of the freakshow. It felt slightly embarrassing to do this in your normal clothes but you knew it would feel worse with a dark green bodysuit on, your legs more out on your show than any other part of you.

Slowly, you turned in place as Jimmy started to speak again. The tips of his conjoined fingers finding your body. Lightly holding onto you as you spun. "Her beauty, hypnotizing!"

Jimmy was about to continue when Elsa walked back into the main tent. You stopped where you were, blinked back to reality and looked at her. Everyone else did too, and waited for her to talk. "Well, meine hübsche, I must say, it might just bring in a customer or two..." Jimmy's hands were still on your hips, just holding onto you as Elsa spoke. It was oddly comforting. Elsa's words were true, yet laced with disbelief. She never wanted anyone to take her spotlight. Jimmy knew that all too well, and it only made him dig his fingers into you slightly.

You glanced back at Jimmy, slight worry on your face. "But I would recommend some of those...silly paper flowers over the edge. You can teach Salty and Pepper how to make those, little lilies you like so much." Elsa waved everyone off, and walked back out to her own tent.

A heavy sigh left you and your arms dropped finally. Jimmy went to slip the gloves off you, placing them gently on the ground. "I'm sorry.." he apologised into your ear, murmuring your name softly to comfort you. A small smile graced your lips, which made Jimmy smile too. That's all he wanted. "You have such a beautiful smile, y'know that?" He chuckled into your ear, which in turn made you chuckle.

"wanna go back to my caravan for a bit?" He suggested quietly, in which you nodded and let Jimmy take your hand, bringing you out of the made-up pot. After another breath, the both of you headed to Jimmy's caravan. Elsa's grip and need for stardom suddenly felt heavy on your chest, like it did for everyone else.

"Fuck..."

"Hey, daydreamer... you're okay," Jimmy reassured, bringing you down onto his lap, rubbing your back soothingly as your hands went around his shoulders. "You're okay. Elsa..."

"Elsa needs her stardom...it's alright. I understand."

He sighed and nodded, gazing up at you as you almost seemed done with Elsa's 'love' already. Silently, you leaned down and hid your face in his neck, just taking your time to stay in Jimmy's arms.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @cameronwillow / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @marchs-hummingbird @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser @saintlucretia / @xrag-dollx / @evansroses / @milkdahmer

[artzychic27]

Headcanon Scene Request: What actually happened in "Volpina" is that the rest of the Akuma Class humored Lila's lies with a fake smile and a "oh that's nice". They didn't believe her for a second and just didn't care enough to call her out on lies that were so obviously bs. Marinette assumed they were on her side despite Alya repeatedly stating that they "just don't care".

This feels like a reverse au of Volpina now that I’m reading it again

Rose: Can you believe Lila said she knows Prince Ali? And that she flew in his private jet with him?

Chloé: Ugh. If Jagged Stone’s writing a song about anyone, it’s me.

Nino: Apparently, Lila knows all of the Hollywood directors. Even promised she'd mention me to Steven Basielberg himself.

Marinette: *Rushes to Alya's side* Lila?

Alya: Yeah, she just started at our school. *points to Lila, who's on the second floor of the school with Adrien* Yeah, I threw her a bone, let her give me an exclusive interview for the Ladyblog, 'cause apparently, Ladybug saved her life once. Good for her.

Marinette: Who is this girl and what is she doing next to the love of my life?!

Alya: Girl. Chill. Adrien literally just met Lila. He’s probably being nice and showing her around.

Marinette: This is super bad, what if Adrien totally falls for her?! I've never flown in a private jet; nobody's ever written a song about me; and I don't know a single person in Hollywood! Adrien will forget I even exist!

Alya: … Mari, I think we need to have a talk.

*Lila guides Adrien along by the hand*

Marinette: *gasping* Where are they going? Alya, we've got to stop them!

Alya: Okay, you need to chill out. Look, Lila REALLY wants her video posted, I gotta make it seem like satire, like a joke video. *Drags Marinette to the classroom with her*

Marinette: What's going on? I mean has this Lila girl hypnotized everyone or something?

Alya: What the- Okay, we’re seriously having a long talk later.

Kim: About what?

Marinette: Lila is lying to you!

Kim: Oh, you caught on, too? Yeah, she said she’d introduce me to some Olympic swimmers. They’re dead, so she obviously doesn’t do her research.

Alya: Kim, get this. Our dear Marinette thinks we actually believe Lila.

Kim: What?!

Myléne: Did I hear that right?

Ivan: Please, think better of us.

Max: Marinette, we all know Lila’s lying. We just don’t care.

Marinette: B-but she’s a liar! She needs to be stopped!

Nathaniel: Why? She’s not hurting anyone; she’s just desperate for new friends.

Alix: *Laughs* Nath!

Nathaniel: I stand by my words.

Marinette: She’s probably laughing behind your backs right now and lying to Adrien so he’ll be impressed by her-

Alix: Ooh! That’s what this is about. You’re jealous.

Marinette: Excuse me?!

Ivan: First. Don’t yell, please. Second, her talking to Adrien seems to get under your skin more than her lying to us.

Juleka: Damn, Ivan.

Ivan: What? I’m right.

[gluttons-for-punishment]

MY LIFE WITH QUEEN

One day in 1974 I was reading the paper and it said that "the Queen" was going to be on Top Of The Pops. Obviously this was a bit of typical puerile stupidity on their part. The Queen wasn't appearing on Top Of The Pops.

Queen were.

And they did. Seven Seas Of Rhye was their first hit, and I quite liked it partly because of the fun outro. Music had joy in it, back in the day.

The likes of Slade and Wizzard and Gary Glitter didn't take it all too seriously. They were all regulars on TOTP and it was a lot of fun.

Queen were on again a little while later with their follow-up, Killer Queen. Everyone liked that. Their lead singer was weird, exotic, almost Oriental-looking with big white teeth. He fitted into the now jaded Glam Rock aesthetic but with an edge, and more class than all the others.

I was listening to the radio the following year and I heard this strange record going "Mama Mia! Mama Mia!" and I thought what the fuck? That ain't Abba!

Then I heard the whole thing, Bohemian Rhapsody in its entirety, all five minutes and fifty-five seconds of it, and I was hooked for life. Queen were like a breath of fresh air, a sparkling gem amid all the Osmonds / Bay City Rollers / David Essex dross that was stinking up the airwaves. I set about investigating their back catalogue.

Someone taped their latest album A Night At The Opera for me. My mate Bernie had Sheer Heart Attack, so I got a copy of that too. Once I'd saved up enough pocket money I went out and bought Queen II. From this album, The March Of The Black Queen has consistently remained in my top three for nearly half a century.

That Christmas Eve, Queen's concert at Hammersmith Odeon was transmitted live on The Old Grey Whistle Test. I took an audio recording of the show on my little portable cassette recorder. The quality was pretty dismal but I played that tape to death and learned it all by heart. In the intervening years it's been repeated over and over again by the BBC, always in a savagely truncated form. It was finally given an official full-length deluxe box set release in 2015 under the title A Night At The Odeon, forty years after the initial live broadcast.

In the scorching endless summer of 1976 Queen announced that they were going to play a free concert in Hyde Park. I wasn't going to miss that. So I set off early in the morning of 18th September with a mate from school (whose name escapes me) after a fry-up made by my sister. We got to Hyde Park and sat on the grass with 150,000 other fans and stared at the empty stage. There was a middle-aged couple sitting behind us who may or may not have been Brian May's parents. A young hippy who looked like Jesus wandered through the crowd giving out cherries.

The first band of the day was Supercharge. Their lead singer was a big fat guy who came on stage wearing a leotard like the one Freddie wore. Next was Steve Hillage, whose endless noodling bored me to tears. Then it was Kiki Dee, who was in the charts at the time with her duet with Elton John, Don't Go Breaking My Heart. She performed the song with a cardboard cut-out of Elton, with the audience singing Elton's lines (Elton was actually present backstage at the time, but didn't appear on stage as he didn't want to steal Queen's thunder).

Then at dusk Queen finally came on with a blinding flash and blew me away. They opened with Procession and a clip from Bohemian Rhapsody and went straight into Ogre Battle.

"Welcome to our picnic by the Serpentine!"

By now, everyone had got to their feet and moved closer to the stage. I got separated from my mate. I didn't care. All my attention was focussed on the band.

The best bit was Freddie, solo at the piano, performing the as yet unreleased You Take My Breath Away. That was amazing. A flawless performance that's included for posterity on the 2011 re-release of A Day At The Races.

They finished with In The Lap Of The Gods... Revisited but didn't play an encore: apparently the show was running late and the band had been threatened with arrest if they went back on stage, due to the huge numbers of people out there in the dark.

My first ever concert experience was absolutely euphoric. It was like losing my virginity. I was still on a high as I drifted away in the dark to get the tube home.

Their next album, the first new one to come out after I became a fan, was A Day At The Races. I got the LP for Christmas, some two weeks after its release, but by some careful snooping I'd found it hidden in my mum's bedroom and played it a couple of times beforehand. When I finally got my hands on it, I played it to death.

By now I was a member of the fan club, and used to ring them now and again to see if there was any news about forthcoming releases (the music press were always a few days behind). I'd sometimes pop into their offices at South Audley Street if I happened to be in the West End, always hoping there'd be one or two band members present. There never were. One day I was up there with my mate Mark and we casually asked the fan club secretary if there were any plans to re-release I Can Hear Music, the pre-Queen single Freddie had recorded with the engineer Robin Cable and released under the name Larry Lurex in 1973. She said no, but she had a few copies for sale. Were we interested?

Hell, yeah! It was a one-sided white label seven-inch single, a test pressing as it later turned out. I was disappointed that the far superior B-side Going Back wasn't included, but it was the elusive and rare Larry Lurex so I had to have it. We got one for our mate Andy too. 75p each. Bargain!

My copy disappeared into the ether decades ago, but Andy still has his. And apparently it's one of the most collectible Queen items (second only to the 1977 Bo Rhap blue vinyl single) and sells for an absolute fortune.

[Whilst visiting and working in the West End in the late Seventies I went past Trident Studios in St Anne's Court, off Wardour Street, many times without really realising its significance. Standing opposite Dark They Were And Golden-Eyed, a fantastic science fiction bookshop (where I acquired loads of quirky unofficial Tolkien stuff when Tolkien fandom was an underground movement rather than a multi-million-dollar industry), this was where Queen recorded their first three albums. Elton, Bowie and The Beatles had recorded there, too. Further on from the studio, towards the Dean Street end, was a tenement brothel where the ladies would sit by the open windows and call out to you as you walked past.

Of course, it's all gone now. Dark They Were closed in 1981 and there are shops and offices where the ladies of the night used to ply their trade. Trident is now a post-production facility.]

My second experience of Queen live was at Earls Court with Mark and Andy, high up in the balcony, miles from the stage. I snuck my little Kodak 126 camera in with me and succeeded in getting a series of very muddy, very distant images of the massive crown-shaped lighting rig. At one point Freddie was performing You Take My Breath Away at the piano when, at a particularly quiet part of the song, someone knocked over the drum kit (at least, that was what it sounded like). Freddie looked startled for a moment then, like the total professional he was, continued as if nothing had happened. This was followed by a performance of White Man that was powerful enough to blow your bollocks off. Freddie: "This is a real bitch of a song that's really fucked up my voice."

For the encore, Freddie strutted on stage in a shimmering silver leotard that sparkled like a glitterball. A brief but brilliant segment of Saturday Night's All Right For Fighting was included in the rock'n'roll medley.

Later that year I went on holiday to Italy with my family. When I returned home on Saturday 8th October there was a postcard waiting for me from the fan club.

My postcard is long gone. This is someone else's that I found online.

I read the first couple of sentences and thought "oh! fantastic! I'm gonna be in a Queen video!" but then as I continued I realised that the event had come and gone and I'd missed it by two days.

Mark and Andy were there. They said the band ran through the new song - We Are The Champions - a few times so the audience would be familiar with it for the recording, and after three takes played a surprise fifty-minute concert. What a unique experience, that I missed out on by two fucking days.

Empire Pool, Wembley was a much nicer venue than Earls Court. I got to see Queen there three nights running in May 1978. On this tour they opened with the fast full band version of We Will Rock You and included the brilliant It's Late, which for many years was my all-time favourite Queen track, in the set. The low point was probably Get Down, Make Love, but the gigs were brilliant. Electrifying.

Following this tour they released the Jazz album, which was a bit disappointing. For the first time, there were more duds than gems on a Queen album. The only track I really liked was Jealousy.

I was in the HMV shop in Oxford Street one day in 1979 and there were three or four copies of Live Killers for sale, autographed in gold ink by all four members of Queen. I didn't buy one because I'd already got a copy of this (disappointing and lacklustre) album. I wish I had. They go for between five hundred quid and a grand these days.

Later that year they released Crazy Little Thing Called Love. I gave it a listen. "That's fucking crap," I spat. "The worst thing they've ever done. The final nail in their coffin."

You could say it grew on me after a while.

Queen went on tour at the end of the year. It was called the "Crazy Tour", as they were playing small venues. I got to see them three times that year, first at the Lyceum in central London on 13th December - fantastic, me and Kate were right at the front! The following day I was so hoarse from cheering and singing my lungs out that I was sent home from work by a manager who thought I was suffering from a bad throat infection.

The following evening it was the Rainbow in Finsbury Park. But the best was yet to come: their gig at the Tottenham Mayfair (formerly the Royal nightclub) five days later remains the best concert I've ever been to. A full account of this concert is elsewhere on this blog.

A year later, another tour, to promote the albums Flash Gordon and The Game. Two nights at Wembley Arena (formerly the Empire Pool) this time, 9th and 10th December. I woke up on the morning of the 9th to the devastating news that John Lennon had been murdered. That took the shine off the prospect of going to see Queen.

I still went. I was in the balcony, with a side view of the stage. At one point in the concert, with no announcement or fanfare, they played Imagine. Just Freddie and Brian. Freddie had the lyrics on a sheet of paper. It was the best moment of the whole evening.

My enthusiasm for Queen nosedived in the early Eighties after the release of Under Pressure. I didn't bother buying Hot Space until a few weeks after its release, and then only after I'd heard Back Chat. Bowie had replaced Queen as my favourite, and I just wasn't interested any more. Consequently I didn't bother to see them on the 1982 tour: the closest venue was Milton Keynes Bowl, and it just wasn't worth the effort.

Next time around, for the tour promoting The Works in 1984, they played Wembley Arena again so I grabbed a couple of tickets. Me and my friend Claire were in the balcony again for this show. At one point I mentioned how brilliant it would be if Bowie would appear with them to perform Under Pressure, but Claire pointed out that as the date was 4th September, it would more likely happen the following evening, on Freddie's birthday (it didn't).

Queen's "show-stopping" appearance at Live Aid (13th July 1985) has gone down in history as one of the greatest rock performances of all time, but at the time it was hard to figure out why: to an experienced fan like me, it wasn't really anything out of the ordinary. They were always that good. Usually they were better. But it was a revelation for the general public who'd seen them as some kind of novelty act or bunch of glam-rock throwbacks, and as a result they gained millions of new fans. I watched it live on the BBC that Saturday, recording it on VHS and - in stereo!!! - on cassette from Radio 1.

I missed the Magic tour, their final tour with Freddie as it happened. Following their Live Aid appearance, everyone wanted to experience them in concert so the shows got bigger and bigger. Wembley Stadium and ultimately, Knebworth Park. It was essentially a greatest hits show, with the band playing mostly their hit singles with little room for the deep cuts which were much more appealing for veteran fans like me.

I watched the Wembley Stadium concert on TV though, and they were on top form. The broadcast and subsequent home media release successfully capture the essence of the atmosphere you'd feel at a Queen concert.

As the Eighties faded away the AIDS crisis became more and more prevalent. The vindictive gutter press gleefully jumped on the bandwagon and harrassed any gay celebrity they could think of, including Freddie. Following his gaunt and frail-looking appearance at the Brit Awards in February 1990, they quite literally hounded him to the grave. For over a year these vultures were camped outside his home, hoping for a scoop and a hysterical headline, and every time he emerged into the outside world there were intrusive and sensationalised pictures of him all over the papers.

Not surprisingly, the vile S*n was the biggest culprit.

I thought: "you fucking wankers." - Roger Taylor on the British press

Like most fans, I was in denial. I didn't believe he was ill. I couldn't bear to believe it. There were repeated rebuffs from the Queen camp - "Freddie's fine, he's as fit as a fiddle" - that we latched on to. This became harder when the videos for I'm Going Slightly Mad and Headlong were released. Freddie did look ill.

Sunday, 24th November 1991, the headlines screamed: FREDDIE: "I'VE GOT AIDS". Just after 7:00 the following morning, Monday 25th, I was woken by my girlfriend rushing into the bedroom declaring "Gary! Freddie Mercury's died!"

They make his life a misery and hound him to his death, then pretend they care. Fucking wankers.

Monday morning. That was a very hard day to get through. At work, there was wall-to-wall Queen on the radio. The jokes started up already: rotten seamen, etc. I was so stunned that I could hardly concentrate on anything else. Queen had been a more or less constant presence in my life from adolescence through to my thirties, and now that was suddenly wrenched away.

That evening, the other half was out so I had the flat to myself. I got a few beers in to toast Freddie and settled down to watch the tribute shows on TV. I was able to keep it together until the premiere showing of Freddie's final video, These Are The Days Of Our Lives. He looked so ill, so thin and frail, so sad. What he must have been through, how he must have suffered. It was hard to believe that was actually the same man on the screen. I sat there and cried my eyes out.

Bohemian Rhapsody got a re-release and became Christmas number one again. John and Roger and Brian announced a tribute concert that would take place the following Easter. A plethora of cash-grab tribute books and magazines were rush-released; I bought them all.

The tribute concert took place at Wembley Stadium in April 1992. I went with a mate from work, Allan Harvey, but we got split up in the 72,000-strong crowd before the concert began (echoes of Hyde Park). The concert itself was a mixed bag: some genuinely emotional moments, and a hell of a lot of shite. Roger Daltrey and Robert Plant were just fucking terrible. Paul Young was OK. Bowie's performance wasn't exactly inspiring: he seemed to be making an appearance for the publicity, rather than to pay tribute to Freddie. And his "Lord's Prayer" moment made me (and the rest of the world) lose the will to live.

Elizabeth Taylor made an appearance, giving a speech about the AIDS crisis (man in crowd: "Get 'em off!" Liz: "I'll get off when I'm finished!"). Elton John gave a solid performance of The Show Must Go On and duetted with the notoriously homophobic Axl Rose on Bohemian Rhapsody. The climax of the show, featuring Liza Minelli (one of Freddie's favourite performers) trying to sing We Are The Champions was just plain embarassing.

The highlight of the show was, without a doubt, George Michael. He gave a fantastic performance of Somebody To Love, '39 and, with Lisa Stansfield, These Are The Days Of Our Lives; as live performers go (those that I've seen, anyway) he's second only to Freddie. I still think this was the only part of the concert that stands up to repeated viewing.

Three years later Made In Heaven, Queen's posthumous fifteenth and final album, was released. This was ingeniously cobbled together from bits and pieces Freddie had recorded before he got too ill, outtakes from previous albums, and a couple of re-worked Queen versions of Freddie solo tracks. Despite a couple of crappy fillers (My Life Has Been Saved, indeed) it was their best album for years. I bought it on the day of release and sat there that afternoon getting hammered on Tungsten lager and listening to these precious sounds.

These days "Queen" (minus John) are still touring with American Idol contestant Adam Lambert as their frontman. I'm not really interested. I'm not a fan of Lambert, I don't like the Broadway-style approach the band take these days, though a few people I've spoken to have said it's a good show. I'm content with the eleven Queen concerts I attended in the Seventies and Eighties with Freddie Mercury at the front of the stage (even though the last one was over forty years ago).

It's fairly safe to say Queen have stood the test of time. They're still immensely popular some fifty years after their first release, even though increasingly these days their fanbase weren't even born when Queen were in their heyday. Those of us who experienced Freddie Mercury on stage are beginning to die off now. But Queen still keep bringing joy to new ears, and I'm quite confident that their body of work will still be appreciated in another fifty years.

QUEEN

My experiences

Hyde Park: 18th September 1976

Earls Court: 1st July 1977

Empire Pool, Wembley: 11th / 12th / 13th May 1978

The Lyceum: 13th December 1979

Rainbow Theatre: 14th December 1979

Tottenham Mayfair: 19th December 1979

Wembley Arena: 9th / 10th December 1980

Wembley Arena: 4th September 1984

Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, Wembley Stadium: 20th April 1992

[undertalerainbow]

Can you get the... | Animatic Meme | Asriel and Chara Dynamic Concept

When hearing this audio, it helped me a lot to figure out the dynamic I wanted with these two characters. With how long Undertale has been around most of what'd been done with these characters has already been done, so what I'm doing may not be new but it isn't something seen a lot so I hope y'all will like the concept. Asriel and Chara have a lot of care for one another, but that doesn't mean there aren't flaws. Chara in Undertale Rainbow didn't fall down in the best state of mind which still affected them even when they were fully integrated with the Dreemur family. As a result, Asriel made it his mission to make Chara the happiest kid in the Underground. Thus they fell into the role of Asriel being an indulgent caretaker of Chara, saying yes to every request. Whilst Chara, never had that support and is still a child at the end of the day, took advantage of it. This dynamic might've been fine if they lived long enough to grow out of it, but this was a toxic combination once the Buttercup idea filled Chara's head. I want to be very clear: BOTH are responsible for their fates. Chara knew what they were doing and shouldn't have asked that of Asriel. And Asriel knew this was too far and should've stopped. The buttercups didn't instantly kill Chara after one dose, and they needed more and more over the course of DAYS to kill them, but Asriel never stopped this once, and Chara of course egged it on too. But that's not the only thing. It's one thing to aid in this, after all, it's for a good cause freeing everyone from the underground, but that didn't happen. Asriel couldn't kill those humans out of fear and his kind heart. This just wasted Chara's sacrifice and became the catalyst of so much heartbreak and other sufferings in the Underground. As the EPIC: Musical song Ruthlessness would put it: "You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great. A Greek who reeks of false righteousness, that's what I hate. 'Cause you fight to save lives but won't kill and don't get the job done.". There was no room for half-measures here, he had to either be all in or stop it in its tracks. He did neither, now they're both in limbo. Neither blames the other for what happened, rather they blame themselves. Asriel wished he wasn't such a coward and had just done what Chara said, or even better yet said no to Chara so they could be a family still. Meanwhile, Chara wished they hadn't asked this of Asriel, they knew what he was like and still did this anyway. It was cruel to put him in this position, thus they see themselves as a corruptor or better yet a demon. This is what the final frame means, not what others think of them nor what is true, but rather what they think of themselves. They both wanted to play hero till reality slapped them in the face. Now no one's happy. I thought making Asriel more of a caretaker personality instead of "owo crybaby who can't do anything wrong" that I've seen growing up would be refreshing to write. Plus it also translates well to flowey, as flowey was a guardian/caretaker of a sorts for all the kids, whether they liked it or not. Like he was watching over Frisk from the distance like a damn mother hen- Cowardice is going to be a huge theme for Asriel and Flowey in the story, which is a flaw gained by his father and something he needs to overcome. I hope you like the Animatic and the concept, sorry for the long read, if you made it to the end you earned a yippee Clover

This yippee clover was made by tbh-daily, this is not mine

[holyshtimgay]

OK so Im gonna request something because this idea has been stuck in my mind for WEEKS. So basicly can you pls do a good luck babe inspired fanfic with jinx? So my idea is that reader is from zaun and dating a piltie guy because her mom makes her do it in order to get money (theyre from zaun) but this guy treats her horribly. And at the same time, she has this romantic thing going on with jinx who has been her friend for years but she doesnt give in to her feelings because of this piltie guy, so jinx is like to song? This is oddly specific I KNOW but I have a lot of free time to think alr, change anything if you want and sorry if thus is too longgg

It fine, and I love the idea!

Good luck babe!

Jinx x Fem Reader

Summary: Reader loves Jinx but she has to date a rich piltie guy who's abusive.

Warnings: forced relationship, gold digger, swearing, angst, violence, abuse.

"Get me another beer bitch!" He yells, well that's what you think he said at least. He's drunk and slurring his words, you wished you had never agreed to this relationship. But it was your only choice, your mom wanted you to, and you didn't want to deal with her mad. He wasn't the one that had your heart, it was jinx.

Jinx was the one who held your heart, but you had to pretend that she did. And you held Jinx's heart. She loves you, but everytime she asked to run away with you, or to be anything more it was always no. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your cheek, and your face was now turned the other way. He slapped you, that asshole slapped you. But you couldn't do anything about it "I told you to get me another beer you bitch!" He screamed at you, his voice echoing across the room.

"Oh! I'm so sorry my love." Every bit of those words were lies, the truth was you had meant them to someone else.

You had went over to your mom's house, to beg her to let you be with someone else. She told you no, again. "For the last time! No! You will marry him, and have his kids! We need the money!" "But mom" you sobbed "today he hit me!" You cried hoping she realizes how bad the situation is. "So? You probably deserved it, you useless girl." You finally realized, there was no hope, no matter what you did he would come after you. Over and over again, till he got everything he wanted from you. And what he wanted was you, and you couldn't do a thing. So you left to Jinx's place.

"Jinx!" You cried. "Yeah? What happened toots?" She asked as soon as she saw you crying. The next thing you know is that you two were cuddling and you were crying in her arms. "She's forcing me to marry him! And today he hit me!" "I can take care of him toots." You immediately panic. "No! Please don't! When she finds out she'll blame it all on me." Jinx tights her hold on you. "How about we run away?" She asked, hoping for once you'll agree to the idea. "Jinx are you crazy?" You didn't, and you never did. "Crazy about you, sure, but you're in hell here and I wanna be with you, but he's holding you back. Just run away with me toots. I'll take care of you."

"Jinx! Do you have any idea what they would do to find me, and they would rope you into it too. I care about you too much to do that to you." You immediately snap back, not wanting something to ever happen to her. "Did you even love me?" Jinx asked, feeling conflicted about yours and hers relationship.

"What kind of question is that?" "So you don't love me, know what how about we stop seeing each other, ever." Jinx says, as she looks at you in the eyes. Feeling hurt she kicks you out and sends you home, although she knew the abuse you went through there.

You're getting married to the one person you hate the most, today is supposed to be a happy day. But all you can think about is her, you miss everything about her, but it's too late now. She left you, she was gone. And you had sent her away. And you regretted it more than anything, but it's way too late. It's the day of your wedding, and the day of her birthday.

You sat here, in the bathroom. Crying hoping that what you were thinking wasn't true, but it was. He had gotten you pregnant, The man you hated more than anything had gotten you pregnant. And so you waited and waited for weeks, hoping that you get pissed off and hit you, in the right place too. And one day he did. That day you went crying to your mother's house, "Mom!" you shouted, crying. "What honey?"She said in such a sweet voice, that most would never believed that she had forced you to marry a man that you hated most. "He hit me! Right in the stomach! And I was pregnant!" you somehow shout, while sobbing. To cut that short, you ended up divorcing him, with for once your mother behind your side. But it never changed a thing, you still lost one you loved most. And you knew you could never have her again, because she was gone, and if only you had taken up on her offers to run away. But you never did, and now you pay that consequence, and you shall for the rest of your life.

[occultbooks]

dylan's hilson playlist masterpost

THIS IS A LONG POST!

I have a lot of thoughts and opinions and you don't have to agree but they make me feel so sick to my stomach that I had to make a post. Music is, in my mind, one of the greatest things in the world. I'm very passionate about it. So, here is a (chronological) list of songs that remind me of House and Wilson.

You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies (1967) - Simon & Garfunkel

S&G deep cut I love. One of their only singles that didn't end up on an album. This one is pretty straightforward. Could be from either perspective, but I like to think it's Wilson's perspective. The song starts:

You don't know that you love me You don't know, but I know that you do

and the second verse includes the line:

You may think that we're friends, all right But I won't let friendship get in my way

The vibe of the song is also much more musically intense than Simon & Garfunkel tend to veer in their love-related songs, making it aesthetically fitting to Hilson as well.

2. Starry Eyes (1979) - The Records

This one is slightly up to interpretation (not a very popular song so meanings aren't readily available) but it has a kind of melancholy unrequited "giving up" theme.

I don't wanna argue, there's nothing to say Get me out of your starry eyes and be on your way

I like to think of this one also as from Wilson's perspective, but he's pretending he's speaking on behalf of the hospital, offended at House acting in his own self-interest. Early season 8 "we're not friends anymore" vibes.

3. This Night (1983) - Billy Joel

Being on the same album as Leave a Tender Moment Alone, this one is very fitting to me. This one, in my head, is like House's perspective, alternate universe where Wilson isn't so repressed. The lyrics are so deliciously tragic to me even though the resolution of the song implies happy endings. Verse 2 makes me feel sick to my stomach:

I've been around, someone like me should know better Falling in love would be the worst thing I could do Didn't I say I needed time to forget her? Aren't you running from someone who's not over you?

UEGGHHGRHGAHGHR sorry this one I can't even be civil about. it makes me emotional

4. You Make Me Feel Like a Whore (1995) - Everclear

This one is self-explanatory but I'll preface a little bit before writing out some of the lyrics. This could be either House or Wilson perspective. Horniest middle-aged men in New Jersey. I feel like they're all over each other all the time. A bunch of freaks.

I take your word like it was gospel  I'm so eager to please  Yeah I like it when you talk to me  It feels so good inside your shadow  It's the place I need to be Yeah I know I need to climb you  Like a tree

Yeah. You guys know. The rest of the song is just as horny and I just...yeah.

5. Selfless, Cold and Composed (1997) - Ben Folds Five

House perspective for so many reasons. Many lyrics about someone telling you they're done with you and walking out, and you feeling like that's probably fair.

You don't owe me to be so polite You've done no wrong You've done no wrong Get out of my sight

but the one that fucks me up is

Come on baby now throw me A right to the chin Don't just stare like You never cared I know you did

Asking the other person to hit him to show that they care is such a House thing. Again: early season 8. This could realistically be any House relationship, really, but it's so Hilson breakup to me.

6. G.I.N.A.S.F.S. (2007) - Fall Out Boy

Fun fact: the song title stands for "Gay Is Not a Synonym For Shitty." Just thought that was interesting. Anyway, this is also from House's perspective. I could probably go into detail about every individual lyric but I'll try not to. This song is about yearning for someone you either can't have or shouldn't pursue. Post-canon (post-Wilson death) makes the most sense for most of the song but it could also be just House being in his own head and believing Wilson is too far away to reach.

Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house In your shoes, you know it's strange It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you

I feel like House probably wears Wilson's clothes after he dies. It makes me unbelievably sad to think about. Anyway, the second verse followed by the pre-chorus kills me:

I've already given up on myself twice Third time is the charm, third time is the charm Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a lousy arm And I've traced your shadows on the wall, now I kiss them Whenever I'm down, whenever I'm down Figured I'm not figuring myself out Things aren't the same anymore Some nights, they get so bad I almost pick up the phone

Thinking about House grieving...augh. They make me nauseous.

7. Away Frm U (2012) - Oberhofer

This song is about resisting someone who is shutting you out to try and keep them afloat. It doesn't have a lot of lyrics. It's very Wilson though.

You're pushing me away from you And there's nothing I can do And I can't fight all of your battles for you

That's about it.

8. Everyone But You (2017) - The Front Bottoms

The vibe of this song is fairly cliche, but "I hate everyone but you" as a concept is so delicious. It's also a little bit about feeling numb, which is very House to me.

It doesn't get worse, it doesn't get better You just get old, it lasts forever Can't get happy, can't get sad It's hard to do When I hate everyone but you

It's so sad to think about how House just spends his whole life trying to be as numb as possible because everything hurts all the time, and the only one who is (somewhat) consistent in his life is Wilson.

I fell in love 'Cause no one saw me the way you did And no one's seen me that way since But for a short time that's how I lived

Again, this could be any House relationship (ESPECIALLY Stacy), but also thinking about post-Wilson death House reminiscing is so...argh.

That's all I have for now. I mean, I have more songs on my playlist, but this is all I feel confident enough to pick apart. Link to the full playlist here, though it is Apple Music so sorry if u don't have that lol.

[crybabyddl]

Black Coffee

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two

Warning: swearing, miscommunication, awkwardness, coffee shop au, modern au

Author's Note: I apologize for the abrupt end to the first chapter. I wasn't sure how to connect the next plot, so I just decided to post it instead of letting it rot in my drafts like I usually do. Enjoy! :)

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

----

Eddie spent the day unpacking more boxes, crushing the cardboard down with his boots. He told himself he had to do four hours of productive work before doing anything fun. However, around hour three, he was hanging up his beloved guitar. As his fingers accidentally brushed against the strings, he couldn't resist the siren call of his instrument.

Eddie indulged in his craft, getting lost in the fluid movements of his fingers and the melodies they produced. Today's setlist was comprised of songs from Rush's catalog, as well as some deep cuts from Metallica and Judas Priest.

It was two hours later when his hand started cramping up, and Eddie placed his prized possession back on its mount. Looking down at his watch, he made the executive decision to treat himself to a coffee.

Could he have made some from the Keurig he'd set up on the counter just hours earlier? Sure, but where's the fun in that? Eddie would much rather take a stroll down to the coffee shop he discovered yesterday. He needed to try the coffee a few more times before making the final verdict on this shop being his favorite.

That's how Eddie wound up ordering another small black coffee in the cozy café. To his disappointment, the girl who took his order yesterday didn't appear to be around. Regardless, Eddie tucked himself into the closest two-seated booth, slowly letting the caffeine seep into his bloodstream with each sip he took. He had to admit, it was really good coffee--just as good as it was the day before.

Despite his appreciation for the sepia-toned ambience and warm atmosphere that the coffee shop had, the sound of the pop music station, other customers' conversations, the espresso grinders, and the whirring of the milk frothers became quite overwhelming for Eddie. Not to mention the tension headache he could feel coming on due to the dim, yet concentrated overhead lighting.

As he went to throw his cup in the garbage, Eddie decided to take a risk.

"Excuse me." he approached the side counter where a chestnut-haired gentleman stood, drying dishes.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I was just wondering if, uh, the barista with the cool eyeliner was working today."

The man paused for a moment before seemingly putting together who Eddie was talking about.

"No, she's not. Did you want me to take a message?"

"No, that's alright. Thank you."

"Sure thing."

Eddie knew better than to say anything, for fear of coming off as creepy. It was already slightly odd to be asking if a specific employee was working there. Maybe it wasn't as weird as it felt, but every action felt awkward, forced, and out of character for him lately. It's part of the reason why he packed up and relocated to the small town his parents moved to when they retired. There was a therapist he was going to start seeing, one that was actually supposed to help him work through his problems, not just listen to him rant about what was bothering him.

On the walk back to his apartment, Eddie tried to anticipate all the talking points his mother and father would bring up when he went to visit them tomorrow after his first appointment with the new therapist. How was the appointment? Did you tell her everything? Did you finish unpacking? Do you need to go grocery shopping? Did you sleep last night? Are you eating enough? He knew his parents were just looking out for him, wanted to make sure he was doing alright, but Eddie was twenty five years old, he was more than capable of taking care of himself... most of the time.

---- the next day...

8:00am

"Oh my god, you guys," you began in a tizzy. "I almost slid into a ditch on my way here."

"The roads are that bad?" asked Nancy, who'd been at the café since five this morning.

"Yeah," you reached behind your back to tie your apron. "It was really coming down over at my house. I think it's supposed to start here around noon."

12:02pm

The cafe had been steadily busy throughout the day, but the hours still seemed to pass far too slowly for anyone's liking.

Two minutes late, like always, Steve makes his grand entrance, bundled in a navy puffer jacket and a plaid scarf, likely from Ralph Lauren.

"Holy shit," he panted exasperatedly as he hung up his coat and scarf. "I almost ran myself into a ditch."

Nancy's eyebrows quirked as she glanced over at you to see if she was hearing your coworker correctly, but you'd since gone over to help a customer.

Once you returned, you and Steve exchanged stories of your treacherous commutes while Nancy tried to predict which of your fellow baristas scheduled for today would be the next to come in with a similar tale to tell.

"Oh, Y/N, someone was asking for you yesterday."

"Really? Who was it?"

"I didn't get his name, but he just asked if the 'girl with the cool eyeliner' was there."

You thought for a moment, trying to recall if any of your friends from high school or other jobs were slated to be in town this week, but nobody came to mind.

"I have no idea who that could be. Most of the people I know either wear just as crazy of eyeliner as me, or would know me by name. What did he look like?"

"He was probably around our age, maybe older. Long wavy brown hair, leather jacket, had on a shit-ton of rings."

You stood up a bit straighter upon hearing Steve's description of the mystery man. It sounded like the cute guy from a couple days ago... he ordered a black coffee... Eddie! His name was Eddie.

"Did he say anything else?"

"No. Do you know him?"

"That's the guy I was telling you guys about the other night."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that checks out."

The rest of your shift went by much faster, knowing you'd made just as much of an impression on Eddie as he did on you. Even though he didn't come into the shop by the time you finished your shift, just knowing he wanted to see you was enough to hold you over for a while.

7:03pm

Your phone buzzed. A text from Steve.

Stove: Btw that guy came in an hour after you left

Your phone buzzed again, another text from Steve.

Stove: I gave him your number

----

[blipblepbloop]

i think one of the things that i think about a lot is if you actually listen to the lyrics of tied up my heart....its not a love song at all. like as much as it sounds like it, and as much as pokey is trying to convince charlotte it is, sam just straight up does not love her anymore and cant even fake it while infected lmao. he tells her he feels tied down by her, caged up by being with her, and literally ADMITS TO CHEATING ON HER in between trying to convince her that if she lets him go he'll love her. and charlotte falls for it, in my opinion not because she doesnt hear the lyrics but because she doesnt WANT to. like she so desperately wants to believe that any part of sam still loves her that she completely ignores what he's actually saying just so she can believe he's telling the truth about loving her.

[ettadunham]

idk who needs to hear this other than kaos netflix, but licensing a song to play every 5 minutes in your tv show does not make up for actually writing some scenes. also, there's almost always a better way to do exposition than through narration, unless you have a clear purpose and/or do it sparingly enough.

[girlwiththegreenhat]

you ever hate on something you've never played/watched/read for what are still moderately good reasons given the circumstances, and then decide to go and play/watch/read the thing just to be fair. just to give it a chance

and then you were not only Right but its Worse Somehow and you're actually just more pissed off now

[torgawl]

everyone here was soooo excited because a national channel was going to bring back this iconic tv series, directed specifically to the youth, from our childhood and adolescence that we are so nostalgic about after 11 years for them to disappoint us all with the trailer because it looks like elite 2.0