#i have very upstanding taste in men

[tofangirlonly]

Look at my unhinged boys

[asunflowerana]

𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

summary: their sister got a new boyfriend, and unfortunately for them, they already know the guy.

with: teiko team and Kagami.

n: remastered prompt, with a brother x boyfriend model (which i thought was really fun to do it haha). Let me know if you guys liked it, hope you all enjoy it!

⊛ akashi seijuro x midorima shintaro

Seijuro’s actually pleased by the surprise. He knows his former teammate pretty well, so he won't have problems trusting him to take care of you and treat you well, as you deserve.

Not only he found it pleasing, but also amusing. It's not every day that your sister decides to date such a confident, stubborn guy, which makes things a bit more interesting for him as the big brother.

“Midorima-kun. What a nice surprise.” The red-haired cordially extends his hand to the new family's addition, wearing a subtle smirk while gazing at him with his piercing, red pupils. Midorima isn't a fool to trust these eyes. “I have a feeling we’ll have a good time together, won't we?

⊛ aomine daiki x kagami taiga

“You've got to be kidding...” It’s the first thing that comes out of Daiki's mouth, looking at your new, moron boyfriend. As if it isn't good enough to deal with him at the championships, now in his personal life too? With his sister? Alright, where're the cameras? 'Cause he's having no fun with this prank.

let's face it, Aomine will make Taiga's life very difficult from now on: expect a lot of bickering and growling at each other every time they're together. However, if he's being honest, Daiki’s actually relieved that your new boyfriend is someone as upstanding and honorable as Taiga; he wouldn’t want you to date someone who doesn't treat you well. So, even though he’s an imbecile (which, yes, he is, and a lot), he's also kinda... trusty. He won't ever say that out loud, though.

“Okay, fine... I can accept this." He points at you both, discontent but not wanting you sad for not having his support. "but you better leave me out of the sappy romance of yours. Too much to sleep at night."

⊛ midorima shintaro x kise ryota

Midorima's already someone difficult to win, especially to a guy who wants to date his sister. So regardless of their past, with Kise it won't be any different; in fact, it'll be worse, due to Kise’s cocky and overly charming personality, unpleasant to the green-haired boy.

Kise isn’t so bad as a person, thoug. Smug, overwhelming, sometimes futile? yes. But he can't deny he also has a good heart. For your happiness, he'll make an effort. The blonde better be prepared for what comes for him, though.

“You really have a bad taste in men.” He bluntly tells you, quickly getting on Kise's nerves, to his delight. Before any of you can protest, he continues. “But he’s not as dumb as the others, so I can deal with him. For now.”

⊛ kise ryota x murasakibara atsushi

“You're kidding, right?” Kise can't help but cackle, bewildered by the news. Not even in his wildest dream did he see something like that happening. You, his baby sister, dating this giant child? It's too much to actually be real. “Murasakibara-chi, you spend all your money on candy, how will you treat my sister that way?”

He honestly doesn’t get what you saw in Murasaki. The lad is lazy, whine at everything, gets easily bored, and probably has more cavities in his teeth than fingers. How can that be attractive?

It'll take a while, but Kise'll eventually notice Atsushi's qualities as a boyfriend. Definitely, he isn't the ideal guy he was planning for you, but you're his world, and that's what matters in the end for Kise.

⊛ murasakibara atsushi x akashi seijuro

Atsushi's fine with the news. He actually noticed the way you and Akashi slowly grew close to each other. He has a lot of respect for him, confident that he’s the best person to take care of his sister and give her a good future. If it were up to him, you might even marry sooner than planned.

“Seijuro-kun, you're _____'s new boyfriend?” He rewinds, asking no one in specific. Akashi offers him a nod, with a small smile on his face while holding your hand. The purple-haired boy scratches his chin, unfazed but internally pleased. “Well, I think this is good news.”

⊛ kagami taiga x aomine daiki

“Please tell me this is a joke.” Kagami practically begs you, hating the teasing smirk Daiki wears on his face, bothering his future brother-in-law. You shake your head, and Kagami loses his freaking mind. “Of so many people in the world, why him? Like, there's our neighbor Koshi that helps you with groceries when I'm out, or that nice barista that gives you heart eyes everytime we're there. Heck, you could even date a mobster, for good's sake, just not him! What is so attractive about him? No, actually, I don’t want to know. I need to keep the rest of my sanity intact.”

As you can notice, Kagami was quite affected by your new relationship. And with Aomine nagging him constantly, it got even harder for him not to just jump in Daiki's throat. But with time, the two will learn how to deal with each other, especially since Aomine’s clearly making you happy. He can be a moron, but at least he’s doing his job right.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated. 💕

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[cooliogirl101]

AN UPSTANDING GUY IM CHOKING. God now i want an entire saga of all this chaos. I gotta know, though, does the interest eventually become reciprocated on Sayuri's part? What does it take to convince her, or does she eventually talk to them and refuse their advances? I love how invested I am for every single one of your OC's romances even when the love interests are so different. You make each of the characters/dynamics unique and I love that! I could spend endless months reading about all of it.

The interest was honestly reciprocated from the start. She had a mini-crisis at first where she was like “Is my taste in men….bad?” before that was counteracted by her being like “Xiyan clearly shares the same taste as me so it can’t be that terrible” and “at least my taste in women is fantastic.”

She does make him work for it though. Partly because she can’t let herself be caught that easily, partly because she can tell he’s having tons of fun making up elaborate courtship rituals (and why deny him that enjoyment), and partly because she thinks executing these schemes together provides a nice bonding activity for TLJ/SXY.

(Liu Mingyan, a manic glint in her eyes, feverishly jotting down notes re: the latest chronicles of Qiu Haitang’s love life: Oh this is gonna make such good material for my new book, I’m gonna be rich.

Luo Binghe, with his head in his hands: I can’t believe I married these women in a past life)

Shipping my OCs with characters who are very, very different from each other gives me the chance to explore tons of unique dynamics, which is the most fun part of writing for me. I���m glad you enjoy reading about them!

[kariachi]

Fic presented itself. Argit's had A Night and Ben is on Rat Watch.

Warning for abuse.

~~

There was something between confusion and concern that always came with waking up in the middle of the night to Kevin in his room. After a point one got used to the fact he could and would break in- if his mom woke up and found an outside door open she just automatically made an extra plate and mug of coffee anymore- but it would probably never stop coming with that inkling that something might be very wrong.

Having him all but shove Argit onto his bed only served to heighten those feelings.

“Argit’s staying the night,” he said in a low, clipped tone edging on a growl that brooked no argument, “anything happens to him and I put you in the hospital.” Ben was still in the process of sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand, as he turned on his heel and stormed out. Not a single explanation of why he was even there when he should have been like four towns over with Gwen.

“…the fuck..?”

“Don’t worry, nobody’s coming after me, he’s just in a mood.” Blinking blearily, Ben turned his attention from the door to Argit, his confused frown twisting as he gave a painful hiss. The alien looked to have gone through the absolute wringer. It was dark, and while Ben had learned in the past few years that he had better night vision than full humans it was hard to get a good look, but there was a point where ambient moonlight was enough to tell someone was scruffier than normal. He rolled out of bed, crossed the room, flicked on the light, and hissed again. “It ain’t that bad.”

Between the bandages, the spots that were already scabbing over, the wrist that had been wrapped, it was that bad.

“Who did you piss off!?!” No matter whether he got on with the bastard or not, there was no hiding the concern in his voice as he went to check him over himself. Argit leveled a glare at him, then rolled his eyes as he began searching for any damage Kevin might have missed.

“My guy decided he was tired of my tone,” Argit said, “Ravrsa’s off to make sure he knows my tone’s not his problem.”  Ben would forever blame the fact he’d just woken up for the long heartbeats it took for his brain to translate that, his jaw tightening as soon as it did. And Kevin hadn’t even had the decency to take him along, like he wasn’t a fucking hero. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t offed any of my exes yet. Might put the fucker in the hospital, but he won’t kill him.”

“Well at least there’s that,” Ben said, as if that had been his concern. “You’ve had more than one guy pull this?” Argit shrugged, favoring the shoulder with the bad wrist.

“He says I’ve got bad taste in men, like he doesn’t have bad taste in general.” Meeting his eyes with a sharp look, not at Gwen’s level but close enough he hoped, Ben pointedly didn’t respond. Argit rolled his eyes again. “The sorta fuckers we go for aren’t exactly upstanding sweethearts.”

“Hey now, he’s got Gwen.” There was nothing that needed more patching that he could tell, and Ben just hovered a moment before what of his mom and aunt’s lessons in manners kicked in. He gestured for Argit to follow him and headed for the kitchen.

“She’s been okay so far,” Argit said, trailing after him, at least he didn’t seem to have any sort of limp or anything, “least if she’s raised a hand Kev hasn’t said anything.”

“She’s a good person.”

“Yeah, so he tells me, I still worry.” Ben gave a small laugh, looking back at him.

“I think he’s the one who needs to be worrying.” Argit flashed a toothy smile back.

“Think he’s about one bad day from just offing every guy who eyes me, save himself the trouble.” Snickering, Ben started digging through cabinets as Argit climbed onto a counter.

“You can’t do chocolate, right?” He’d swear Kevin had mentioned it once, and Pierce hadn’t been able to eat the stuff…

“Yeah. No chocolate, no caffeine, no alcohol.” Humming, he nodded and only pulled out the one pack of cocoa. Another cabinet would get him a mug and a bowl, and there was some juice in the fridge.

“Okay. Hey, you got a safe place to stay?”

“Benny,” Argit teased with a snort, “are you worried about me?”

“Don’t tell Gwen or she might disown me,” Ben answered, glancing over with a smile to see Argit shake his head.

“I’ll be fine. Think Kev’s just happy to have someone he trusts to keep an eye on me while he’s all worked up.”

“Guess I can’t blame him being a bit paranoid. Orange or cherry?”

“Orange. It’s not paranoia when people actually have the worst intentions for us.” For a moment Ben paused, considered the statement, then nodded.

“Okay, yeah, none of us are really paranoid at this point.”

“Especially not Kev.”

“Especially not Kev.” Handing Argit his bowl of juice, Ben set to work getting his cocoa together. “You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve seen people try to pull with him.” He paused. “Actually, maybe you would.”

“Been hanging with him a lot longer than you,” Argit snickered, “I definitely would. Most of my body count’s from saving his ass.” Ben turned from the microwave to try to stare him down.

“You should not be so comfortable telling me you’ve killed people.”

“You hang out with Kev, and he’s killed like three times as many people as I have.”

“Touche.” Bastard. “But somehow not any of your exes, even though they were bastards.”

“In his defense there, normally we leave the area before he finds out what pissed me off.” With a curious hum, Ben mixed his drink and leaned against another counter.

“Pretty smart, if his response is gonna be to put somebody in the hospital.” He mindlessly took a sip, flinching and huffing as he burned his mouth and throat. Argit was polite enough to wait. “Seriously though, you have got to date better people. Fuck, I know enough criminals by now, I’ll find you better.”

The kitchen fell into silence, Argit looking at him with a narrow-eyed look somewhere between suspicion and amusement. Ben didn’t rescind the offer, as much as he’d just been running his mouth. He was, after all, still sore that he hadn’t been given the chance to go help beat this guy up. It was a blow to his pride as a hero. If setting Argit up with somebody could keep him out of that kind of situation again, it would make up for it. If it got one of his enemies off his back then all the better.

A curious noise came across the kitchen.

“You realize if it went badly Kev’d blame you for setting the whole mess up?” The same Kevin who was, as they spoke, heading out to give a guy twice what he’d given first. But also, the same Kevin who was Ben’s best friend and not about to piss off Gwen by killing him over something like this.

“I’m not that scared of him.” Because you had to be stupid to not be at least a little scared of him, no matter the relationship. Argit snorted, flashed him a toothy smile.

“May take you up on that, just to see you try.” Gwen would have words, but if he never did anything that would annoy his cousin was he really Ben Tennyson? Besides, he could already see Kevin’s romantic ass chilling out when it came up in the morning, and they both knew it would come up in the morning one way or another. Even if just in the form of Argit teasing him for caring. More cautiously this time, Ben took another sip of cocoa.

“If nothing else, it gives me an excuse to avoid my paperwork.”

“Aw,” Argit said, snorting again, “the big-name hero can’t manage a little paperwork?” Ben laughed back.

“The ‘big-name hero’ would rather be doing good than bending over a desk.” Argit’s ear and mouth twitched. Ben glowered at him. “You know what I mean.” For a moment everything settled into an almost easy quiet as Argit lapped at his drink and Ben carefully sipped his own.

“So,” Argit said after a moment, tone quiet, bemused, a little patronizing, head tilting just a bit to the side, “you’re classing trying to find me a new guy under ‘good guy hero stuff’?” He didn’t even like Argit. Could’ve lived a perfectly happy life never seeing or hearing about him again. He was a untrustworthy, cowardly bastard of a con, sat in his kitchen looking like he’d been dragged along a cliffside for what was, this time, no fault of his own. Something he wasn’t even making a fuss about.

Ben smiled over his mug at him, wide and honest.

“Of course.”

Even he deserved better than that. And if Argit tried to hide wide-eyed surprise in his drink, well…

That just proved the point.

[ducknotinarow]

Richard - Family Meme; all that apply uwu

talk about family meme

Send 👔 for my muse to talk about their father

“I don’t know what all you really want to hear on the topic. I wasn’t around my farther too much growing up. You think of me as a workaholic and sure I am I’ll admit to that. My father was far worse. He only even left his office around the weekends. Course he worked in his hom office. He came from a respected family but was the youngest of five sons. So he wasn’t going to I hear it anything for himself. He saw a chance to get what he wanted and made a deal with my mother. Ture to his word he took over that company and made it more successful than ever. Some may even assume he was no were near as bad as my mother. The lesser of tw evils maybe even..but no. My parents marriage may not make sense from the outside. Normally when people marry it is for love the thought of making a family and speanding thier life together. Not so much them but they were still partners in every sense of the word. My father was just as involved in my growth as my mother was. If anything he was the one to rise the stakes. He was always good at that. I don’t think I’ll after him much outside in looks. In truth I will never forgive him for being the root cause of my brothers death. He was the one that got Zane hooked on to drinking, drinking during meetings was common. Zane, was a social and happy drunk so it just up his charisma. At the same time he is a bit of what I measure success by even in my age now. Constantly needing to fight it because I don’t want to run my self into being exactly like him so I guess he is more the model of what going to all in. The kind of farther I never wish to be like. Unsupportive, cold, distance and uncaring. I don’t phone it in with Buddy but I do put in the effort to show my son I am here for him."

Richard has had time to really reflect on his childhood be coming a parent himself was kind of the first step for him to really finally doing that because well he and Bailey sort of ended up with a kid suddenly so Richard didn't get to stumble through those first stages of Buddy's life to figure it out he had to do it well on the job. Meaning he thought a lot about how he was raised in turn the relationship he had with his Dad. And well that isnt the kind of father he wants to be. he still learned from his father but as what not to be.

Send 👚 for my muse to talk about their mother

"A harpy of a women, who lacked any sense of tack or taste. She was privilege from day one and never let it not be known that she was a heiress to a upstanding family. Even to her own kids. As I said my parents didn't marry for love it was a marriage of convenience my mother just wanted to remain rich and not work. My father made that possible. Surprisingly they could be a effective team when put together. I guess i spent most my time around my mother growing up..and that may have resulted in a lot of how I am now. She didn't have very good taste i recall how often my childhood home got a 'make off' and the color choices she picked always clashed not to mention always having patterns? Bailey should be grateful my crime is only pineapple shirts in all truth. My work habits are from my father I will admit my personality..may be fostered by my mother. I was around her far more since Zane was learning from my father. I am full of myself but even I sometimes am a bit struck by what comes out of my mouth...well aware that I know where I learned it from. If I had to say I learned anything good from her? It was to stand by my partner no matter what. And well she did always tell me how to treat a women...I jjst also extended thst to men. I swear despite be being dick deep in one nearly every day she still insists I'm stright and doing it to spite her."

Growing up since Zane was raised to take over the family business Richard in turn was around his mother a lot. Despite Melody being well a full blow narcissist she didn't like the idea of a stranger rising her kid. Which did mean Richard spent most his time around his mother least till old enough to be left on his own. I joke this man has no taste because sadly he only knew taste from his mothers lens which is tacky af XD Richard wears blue all this time because his mother insisted it was his color and at least she wasn't wrong there, sadly being raised by a narcissistic Richard doesn't fully know the things he likes a lot of it learned from him growing up away from her. On the last point lack of love or not Richard can state his parents seemed to have a strong relationship in some way seeing how Melody always stood by Thomas' choices. They were always on the same page and worked together if that make it worse or better is hard to say. So yes Richard's self love isn't only as a sort of defense because of how low his parents could make him feel but a learned behavior from being around his mother so much as a young kid. I have had him so out there shit but don't worry even he sometimes has to take a step back and be all..the fuck did I just say XD he just knows how to own it at least.

Send 🤜 for my muse to talk about (one of) their sibling(s)

"I don't feel there will ever be enough to say about my brother, and yet I feel so much time waste that wasn't spent voicing those same things to him. Losing my brother turly placed a hole in my life. I won't every fully be myself without him. My brother was just very speical in my life our time was short but the time we had I'll treasure and I hope where ever he is now he can see me and is proud of who I have become. That said, my older brother was a ture pain and never knew how to leave me alone always bugging the crap out of me. Rising my competitive nature better than anyone even compared to my justified hate with Starducks. Thought himself the ultimate wingman for me cause having a 'main squeeze would lossen the stick in my ass'. And yes when he learned I liked guys too je figured it gave a large net...and no he was never successful he did not know my taste. Pretty much see a maybe single girl or boy and go right into 'oh what about that one?'not to mention how many times he used up my eye liner. Man he could piss me off and send me into unbridled rage...but he also was very important in my life. And it is always the bitter pill in all my life achievements to face the fact...he won't be there to see it. See me finally settle down, see me marry the love of my life, adopt my son even. I know he'd love to be there for that all."

What haven't I said on thier relationship? It's turly one of my favorite aspects to Richard despite ya know me killing his brother off xD Zane is very much the reason Richard did not end up loke his mother or father u_u Zane and Richard were like any brothers if not a bit different considering the environment they grew up in theu only really jad each other for support. As mentioned the reason Zane started to drink can be blame on thier father. It nit uncommon for alcohol to be present in a meeting and due to social pressures Xane couldn't be seen not accepting a drink from his host. Richard as known is a workaholic something he got from his father which is a form of addiction. Zane also got that just his addiction was alcohol. Zane had been dealing with the issue from the moment he was a teen and Thomas and Meldoy did not get him help. It would ruin thier family image if it was found out after all. Thomas just added to the drinking issue telling Zane to get over it. It's why Richard never forgiven his father and never could. And partly himself since his brother was always there for him he feels he should have done the same. Why makes sure to do different for Bailey ;3;

Send 🦯 for my muse to talk about their grandparents

"I never knew my own grandparents but I will say I love and adore Sue very much. In truth I would thank my being with Bailey thanks to Sue. She always made me feel included and seemed to champion me to pursue Bailey romanticly seeing how she often gave me hints into Baileys life letting me chip away at his own painted walls he kept up around me."

Richard dose very much see Sue as his grandma. And even credits his relationship with Bailey to her. Feeling Sue for some reason felt Richard was a good match for Bailey because of her being the one to mention things to him here and there at times that got Richard curious to ask Bailey about and helped bridge them closer into the more serious relationship they would have. Not to mention Sue was pretty quick to make Richard feel like he was part of the family and seeing hiw Richard was often made to feel he wasn't good enough for his own? I don't think Sue will ever fully understand her acceptance and inclusion touched the egeal which is why she has his highest respect. Bailey has to do a lot to get Richard to relax if Sue told Richard to rest? He do it no problem X'D

Send 🐾 for my muse to talk about (one of) their pet(s)

"I never had any growing up, my mother found them to be gross and likely to bring dirt into the house. Admittedly I thought my self not a pet person but then Bailey adopted Mocha and Carmeal....and my mind was quick to change. We have five cats technically. One at the cat café Bailey bought and I sell coffee through now as well. I'll admit I have come to spoil them making then speical drinks and I personal prepare meals for them over canned or dry food. Fresh is best."

Richard being a full blown cat dad is honestly the cutest thing to me xD which is funny I know when asked before I said I felt like if given the chance for a pet Richard would likely perfer a cat. I feel like Mocha and Carmeal are kind of his favorites of the bunch see how they are the one always seeming to be around him. I feel for his mental state as well. They have been become emotional support pets for the egeal. He dosent mind letting them lay over him or playing with them even when working. He has a soft spot for cats now thanks to these two.

Send 👶 for my muse to talk about (one of) their child(ren)

"I already stated I never thought I was a pet person I even mlre thought I could never be a father. I just worried about doing a poor job as a Dad because of my own parents. Worried I'd be just like them and I could never put a child through that. But then Buddy came into our lives. I never knew the attachment one could feel for a kid who had no DNA from you. I just couldn't imagine not having Buddy in my life once he was there. They are such a smart, sweet and caring kid and everyday I find my self just amazed at who Buddy is becoming. I want to set a God example for Buddy even if that means facing things I never wanted to, so I can be better. A better rope modle to my son. It's hard watching him grow up I'll admit. Missing my little duckling who followed me everywhere. But, I know Buddy will be okay I know Buddy is full of love from me and Bailey both. Knows they can try and spread thier wings and we will be there to catch Buddy if needed. That's what I hope Buddy knows most. That Buddy can fail and it's not the end of everything."

Richard's life turly became richer when he and Bailey decided to take I'm Buddy for their own. Buddy has been a way for Richard to heal his inner child because he tries not to repeat the mistakes of his own parents. He never wants Buddy to feel how he does. He wants Buddy to feel loved, safe, and secure. That's his main drive as a parent. As someone who wasn't allowed to fail je wants Buddy to see that just because he dose it isn't the end of the world they can get back up and try again as many times as needed even. Richard really is a doting father I feel. He brags about his son often, he even makes Buddy employee of the month all the time xD his café it'd allowed. Richard just knows he loves his son and he wants his son to have a good life so he tries to be as involved as possible make sure his presence is always there for his son. He might not be the most emotionally open but Richard can display his love in other ways and he just hopes he doing a good job.

[loosesodamarble]

The Birth of a King

Summary: This is the story of how an ancient king was born and of the legacy he created.

Genre: general

Word count: ~2100

..........

Centuries ago, in a land which has since lost its name to the passage of time, there lived a young Lord.

The land which the Lord ruled over was one that carried many burdens. A drought which left crops frail and few. Plague had stolen away too many innocent lives. Even the living were left as frail as the elderly, so much so that they couldn’t work as they once did. Towns at the edge’s of the Lord’s territory were victim to attacks from wild beasts and bandits alike.

The Lord saw the troubles of his people. It frustrated him terribly. What could he do for them? He had too little wealth to hire soldiers to drive away the evil-doers. He could not command the rain to fall. There was no way to restore the strength of the sick and impaired.

As the land struggled and the Lord searched for a way to help, he happened upon an old legend of a dragon. The dragon of legend could grant power to humans and would do so if they were sought out with an earnest heart.

“It’s just a fairy tale, m’lord!”

“Regardless of how truthful it is, we can’t risk you going away!”

“My liege, send us instead.”

The Lord shook his head at his advisors and stated with the firmness of stone, “I am the lord of the land. It is my people that suffer. It should be myself pleading to the dragon, if they in fact exist.”

Thus, the Lord set out in search of the dragon. He rode the finest steed through hills and valleys for any trace of the great dragon. As tired as the Lord grew and as dangerous as the journey was, he never lost heart, for his people’s future rested on his shoulders. The Lord, eventually, found the dragon’s lair high in the mountains.

“Majestic” was the first word to come to mind. The Dragon was larger than a house and shined like the golden sun. So too like the sun did it radiate warmth and light.

The Lord offered his horse to the Dragon, for he knew he couldn’t merely demand the ancient being’s aid. The Dragon granted the Lord to approach and speak his case. The plight of the Lord’s subjects was recounted. As the Lord spoke, the Dragon sensed that his heart was pure and intentions were true. Once the account ended, the Dragon agreed to grant a favor, a dragon’s boon, to the Lord.

“Drink my blood and what powers you require shall be granted unto you. If the burden is too heavy for your shoulders alone, pass it onto others the way I have shown you. Be aware that this boon comes with conditions. The first is unavoidable: commanding the nature of the world is taxing. Blood is the sacred force of power and thus, you must regularly consume it—fresh and pure—to maintain your strength.”

The Dragon sunk its head low to look the Lord dead in the eyes. The Lord felt the very ground shake from the heavy tone the Dragon spoke with.

“The second condition is one I give for the world’s sake. Listen close and listen well. Should any human use my boon for their gain alone, all who bear the power shall be cursed. Neither life nor death shall take you as their own. The sun’s rays from which I was born will seal your strength. The purity of silver will burn your tainted flesh. And the wrath of the living will not be quenched until all with my power cease to be, with their corrupted hearts pierced through and their heads taken from their necks for their thoughtless evil.”

The Lord agreed to the terms. Though the Dragon’s blood tasted bitter and burned in his mouth, the Lord managed to swallow it and made the Dragon’s might a part of him.

During the journey home, the Lord tested the full extent of the Dragon’s boon and prepared to teach whoever he would share the power with.

With the Dragon’s boon, the land slowly came out of hardship. The Lord was careful to give powers to as few people as possible, only his closest advisors and subjects he evaluated to be upstanding individuals. Those who were granted the power gained the strength of ten men and sharpened senses like an eagle’s hunting eyes or a hound’s nose. The Dragon’s boon also allowed the boon bearer’s bodies to heal from even the most grievous injuries.

The greater powers of the Dragon’s boon were as follows. The skies—rain and wind and lightning—became subject to human command, allowing the Lord to end his land’s drought. The minds of beasts could be commanded, allowing hunters to drive off predators that would do harm or draw in prey to feed the people. Lacking skilled knights, the Lord passed on the power to command blades and shields with their minds to fight bandits to a group of his subjects and trained them to fight that way. Raising the dead was a gruesome power but it was used to speak with the deceased to hear any final regrets and resolve them. The power to peer into the minds of others and compel them to speak made the trial of criminals child’s play. Those found guilty would be placed under the influence of curses—later known as maleficium—to punish their wrongdoing while still sparing them from death. The Lord hadn’t been sure how to make use of shapeshifting at first but it turned out that his subjects were willing to act in the place of sickly plow oxen or pack mules. These seven powers were shared with a good handful of noble heart though only one, the Lord first granted the boon, could wield all at once.

With the Dragon’s boon, the nameless land prospered.

Those bearing the Dragon’s boon partook a portion of blood each day, the greater the use of power the more blood they required; a sparrow could make a man confess his crimes while summoning a day’s worth of rain required feasting on the blood of a grown stallion. Otherwise, they lived and died as normal humans would, no more than fifty years to any man or woman.

The Lord who first received the Dragon’s boon passed the responsibility of protecting the whole of the power to his Son before dying. The Son humbly took his father’s place and kept a careful eye on the boon bearers.

Tales of powers granted by a dragon spread as rumors to neighboring lands. One Nobleman’s ear was turned toward those stories and desired to make use of them himself. He ventured to the nameless land. He watched the people and saw those carrying the boon of power. He eventually gained an audience with the Son and requested for a share of the power.

“Surely there is more use to these almighty gifts than merely pulling carts through streets as a horse or causing a little spring shower,” the Nobleman remarked. “Imagine the wars that could be won if you didn’t have to concern yourself with the lives that could be lost on the battlefield. You could bend a tyrant’s will so they bend the knee to you!”

“Conquest is not the purpose of the boon,” replied the Son. “It was given in the name of service and in the name of service it shall be used. I cannot share the power if those are your intentions.”

The Nobleman refused to accept such an answer. He slipped a poison to the Son’s wife and children, promising an antidote in exchange for the power he sought. Because the Son loved his family so dearly, his heart needed only to falter for a moment. He cut his hand and offered his blood, and the boon’s power, to the Nobleman.

Not even a moment after drinking the blood and feeling his body fill with inhuman strength, the Nobleman attacked the Son, breaking his neck in one fell strike. He took the complete power of the Dragon’s boon for himself. Furthermore, he left the wife and children to rot from poison. With blood on his hands, the Nobleman awakened the Dragon’s curse in every boon bearer.

Their hearts stopped. The sun’s golden rays sealed their powers, only to be used at night. Silver pendants and rings scorched the wearers as the holy metal rejected their new, monstrous state. All knew at once that their fates had been sealed.

At evening, the Nobleman presented himself before the citizenry of the nameless land and declared himself their new ruler, the King of the Night. Those who voiced dissent, be it humans without power or those with the boon, were met with death.

The King of the Night turned those with the same lust for power as he and began a conquest of terror. Whenever the sun went down, he and his undead soldiers trampled enemies beneath them. Villages drowned in torrential rains. A squad of only ten or so undead could raise weapons for a hundred hands to slay an army of a thousand. Maleficium spread incurable plagues to people who would stubbornly refuse to submit. Even if the enemy complied, their minds were twisted or stolen away entirely by the King of the Night’s otherworldly compelling.

The rampant use of his power brought about intense bloodlust, one that the blood of beasts failed to quench. His hunger grew and grew until he sank his fangs into the flesh of an unfortunate servant. And that, at last, sated the King of the Night. With that revelation, the King of the Night encouraged his subjects to feast on humans as well.

The boon bearers gave into their inhuman hunger and the blood of countless innocents was spilled. The actions of the King of the Night and his subjects gave rise to certain tales. Pale and fanged monsters. Creatures repelled by silver. Beings who escape death time and time again. The “vampire” was born.

Some details regarding vampires were mistaken observations. Devout souls who were forcibly turned despaired before their former faiths, leading to the belief that vampires were weak to holy symbols. Garlic was never a weakness but the pungent scent did irritate the sharp senses of vampires. Misinformation of vampires burning in the sun spread because vampires fled the dawn to keep their powers if only for a few minutes more. That is the nature of the world, though, for the facts to be twisted as they are spread and misunderstood.

Vampires terrorized humanity for years… Decades… Centuries…

Until eventually, humans unwilling to succumb to fear of the King of the Night and vampires found one another. With their shared knowledge, they developed techniques and strategies to hunt the vampires. They coated blades and arrows in silver to do as much harm to the monsters as possible and ensure their deaths by decapitation and piercing. They found that the silver coating also meant vampires could not manipulate the weapons. So too did silver fastenings on clothing prevent such control. Silver piercings were also upon those who hunted the creatures, as they would weaken mental manipulations and maleficium, the greatest of the vampires’ powers. Those dedicated to eradicating the blood suckers became known as the Vampire Hunter Society.

The war between vampires and Hunters was not a short one. Though the Hunters’ silver weapons killed many vampires, the vampires’ inhuman strength and powers killed far more Hunters. Vampires, with their ability to heal and immunity to natural death, outmatched the humans who could not regain lost limbs or put their bones back into place.

There were vampires who didn’t fall to evil. Those among the first to be turned and survived their “king’s” initial slaughter or those turned against their will tried to use their power to oppose the forces of evil. Their good deeds, however, did not spare them from death. Sometimes it was by the hands of the Vampire Hunters. Other times, the King of the Night executed the “traitors.” The King of the Night saw all that his kin did and could even control their actions to fight with more ferocity.

For that reason, the Vampire Hunter Society believed that if the King of the Night were to be slain, then the war would come to an end.

All who tried to slay the King of the Night failed. Centuries of fighting had made him strong. Greater than any man. More like a force of nature. Some Vampire Hunters feared that there was no way to defeat the King of the Night. That vampires would be a terror to humanity for the rest of time.

However, the Dragon’s words would be fulfilled. One day, in a future yet to be, there would arise the sun to dispel the reign of night.

[averrse]

I'm currently rereading SoC and taking notes and i'm going to put some of them here as they apply to my characterization~

Starting with pages 1-45 of my edition:

Kaz was the exception--the picture of restraint, his dark vests and trousers simply cut and tailored along severe lines. At first, she'd through it was a matter of taste, but she'd come to understand that it was a joke he played on the upstanding merchers. He enjoyed looking like one of them. "I'm a businessman," he'd told her. "No more, no less." "You're a thief Kaz." "Isn't that what I just said?"

I think it's interesting that Kaz sort of cloaks himself in the costume of a member of the (relatively?) upper class in Ketterdam was also not having any distinction between what they do and what he does. He has an interesting view of capitalism in general. For example...

"Greed is your god, Kaz." He almost laughed at that. "No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever." "And what god do you serve, then?" "Whichever will grant me good fortune." "I don't think gods work that way." "I don't think I care."

and

"I trade in information, Geels, the things men do when they think no one is looking. Shame holds more value than coin ever can."

Like, okay, ignore Kaz being an atheist edgelord, but yeah. He sees capitalism as a tool in a world he sees very little good in. To him, people aren't motivated by their negative traits, but motivated by things like greed and shame.

One last line from the first 45 pages:

Inej was always trying to wring little bits of decency from him.

I truly do love that she wants to see good in him, and I think that is part of why Kaz cares about her so much and ALSO why he has trouble letting himself be close to her. He could accomplish more by completely leaving behind any decency that he has in him, but some part of him wants to be decent... if only for the sake of his friends.

[neonponders]

I’ve never written Murder Boyfriends before, but @cuepickle ‘s art is just so lovely and powerful.

Based on this and this 💗 💜 🖤 (impending smut ahoy)

• • • • • • •

I just want to help, he’d said.

I just want to make things right, he’d said.

Steve said a lot of things. But he moaned incoherent words and exclaimed sounds he didn’t want anyone else to hear when Billy Hargrove steamrolled into his life, his feelings, and his goddamn morals.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t...right. He was twelve different shades of wrong, punctuated by Caribbean blue eyes and decorated with bronzed waves and curls. Steve knew he had a superiority complex, but he hadn’t known it was this bad.

Thing is, if he’d known, Steve couldn’t guarantee whether he’d change anything. Because knowing Billy Hargrove is a murderer would also mean Steve knew what his lips tasted like, and their softness against his neck.

All Steve had known was that Sheriff Hopper was missing, and his parents, being the upstanding white people that they are, deferred nearly every inconvenience to the police. And the police answered, because fat wallets keep their lights on, like everyone else.

But the Sheriff’s phones kept ringing. And maybe Steve had his own complex after so much time with Nancy, because he parked out front and strolled right into the Sheriff’s office.

The secretary wasn’t there.

Neither were the two deputies.

Steve tucked himself between the desks to pry apart the window blinds. Their cars were still here -

Steve’s head rotated at a sound he knew. He knew it in the way a memory piqued but he couldn’t place where or why. He followed it into the chief’s office...where Billy Hargrove sat at the desk - Hopper’s own chair - and ate a crisp apple from the strange pile in the waste paper basket.

“Billy?”

“Hi, Steve,” he smiled. Ankles crossed on the desk. A perfect, violet crescent framed the side of his eye. An indigo shadow rested in the inner corner of the other one. Either way, Steve’s first red flag was that he ached with concern more than itched for the nailed bat in his trunk.

“What happened to you?”

Steve thought the guy might choke, the way he tipped his head back to laugh while chunks of apple sat in his mouth. Naturally, it took him some time to chew and swallow before he said, “I finally stopped being afraid. And I started being responsible. Not the way he planned, though.”

“Hopper?” Steve frowned.

Billy did not answer immediately. He licked the apple like it might drip juice and beckoned, “Why don’t you sit down? I want to see you.”

The only lights on were in the main room where Steve stood. Ghoulish, fluorescent bulbs while Billy sat in shadow and vague, evening light hatching through the Chief’s window blinds. There was some kind of irony there: Steve in the fake, green-tinged light, and Billy in the natural...honest darkness.

Steve peeked behind him, surveying the room but finding no warnings apart from the negative space where people should be.

He stepped into the office -

“I’ve always liked looking at you.”

Steve paused on the carpet. Billy had said it loud enough to hear, but with enough air in it that Steve couldn’t tell if he was drunk or hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Then he tried to sit in one of the chairs -

“Over here. Sit on the desk.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him, suddenly very aware that the light gave Billy full view of his face but Steve only got the glow in that dark blond hair.

A strong leg pushed Billy away from the desk. The apple tumbled onto its pile of brothers, discarded as he pat the desk. “Sit right here.”

Steve shook his head all at once, beginning to backpedal out of the room. “This is weird.”

“No shit. This whole town’s weird. I’ve been reading some personal files in this room. I guess the Chief thought he was being smart, but...I’ve been hiding my whole life. I know where people hide things. A lot of things make sense in this place, now. The rat pack Max hangs out with. And you. A lot of things makes sense about you, Steve.”

Steve shrugged and his hands clapped against his thighs. “Okay? You’re not special for seeing my report cards.”

Billy’s features froze, but only for a moment, and then laughter burst out of him. “Steve, please sit down. God, I wanna touch you.”

Steve Harrington is a simple person. He’d officially been single for far too long, struck out every time he faced a woman - and a couple guys who were too scared or oblivious to do anything - and he just...

He wanted.

He wanted to be touched and if Billy was offering - Hot Stuff Hargrove, Baby Doll Eyes Billy - then Steve couldn’t help but take. He’d been so patient with everyone. He waited for Nancy to be ready. He accepted defeat when everyone walked away from him with rolling eyes or obligatory smiles.

Billy...talked. He talked and talked. He’d always been a talker; on the basketball court, barking orders as a lifeguard. Always talking, or letting his radio talk for him.

But Steve sat on Hopper’s desk and felt the warmth of Billy’s palms seep through his jeans. He held onto Steve’s calves as he talked. Talked about terrible things. Broken plates and abandoned things. Being the abandoned thing. Being the broken thing. He talked for hours before finally fucking Steve on that desk.

He’d started slow. Just unbuttoning the jeans and then leaving them alone. It would be another half hour before he took off Steve’s shoes. Every time Steve looked behind him - as if asking for someone to come in, to interrupt, to break this dark dream Billy wove around him - Billy said, “Look at me.”

“I’ve been looking at you, Billy.”

A small smile twitched on his lips. “Good.”

It would be another hour before he said, “I think my dad killed my mom.”

Less than a minute before he added, “He had it coming. Feel bad for my step-mom, though. But she was a screamer. So was the tall deputy. Things can finally be quiet now.”

Steve sat very still as arms circled around his pelvis and Billy just...hugged him. Pressed his face against Steve’s soft belly and inhaled his scent. Warm laundry and Steve Steve Steve.

He couldn’t be sure how things evolved into sex. Steve was already trapped in Billy’s web, so all he had to do was decide, to give the web a pluck and Steve felt the vibrations.

He planted his hands on the desk, lifting his ass for Billy to wrench the jeans and underwear off in one go. They got stuck on Steve’s feet, bunched up so Steve had to figure it out himself as Billy pressed himself over top of him.

The green desk lamp fell with an ominous clank.

Steve finally got a leg free and wrapped it around Billy’s ass the same time teeth found his neck. The warning bells that had been ringing since he got here felt far away; church bells too high over the town to actually make a difference in the goings-on.

Billy marked him up like he had paperwork to sign. Steve’s deed was his, and Billy moaned and grunted with every sigh he wrung out of Steve. Every squeeze to his waist made him moan, and he outright whimpered when Billy licked up his neck. For how much Billy gripped, bit, and sucked, he moved surprisingly gently below the belt.

“Gonna get lube later,” he said in that way again, traveling down Steve’s body as his thoughts escaped into the air. “I’m going to have your ass every which way, Harrington.”

Steve could only gasp as his tongue shoved inside him with no preamble. “I-I-I didn’t shower - ”

A guttural, breathy hum ricocheted from Billy’s throat and into Steve’s chest, knocking Steve’s head back like a rock on the way there. Billy’s stubble and gross wetness made Steve feel filthy in the best way. His cock lay heavily on his abdomen, spurting precum every time Billy’s hands squeezed the backs of his thighs.

Steve came like he’d never been touched in his life. His breathing picked up and he rutted against Billy’s face twice before making a mess of his shirt.

Billy took his slowly fading erection into his mouth, jerking himself off almost violently in a matter of seconds.

When Steve stepped outside, the air smelled like the sunrise even though only the faintest bit of blue had begun to dilute the darkness. And as the sun rose, Steve had never felt worse. It was like seeing a demogorgon for the first time, but instead of minutes, it stretched into hours.

People were dead.

Presumably Chief Hopper too.

Billy, he...he...

He showed up to Steve’s house with a smile and freshly laundered clothes. Steve had showered but looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. Billy only tipped his head back toward his car. “I’ve got two bank accounts freshly inherited. Let me buy you lunch.”

Steve wondered if Dustin’s comic book villains drove Camaros.

Billy bought him lunch. Bought him a chocolate milkshake too. Steve didn’t want to think about his ability to swallow those down so easily. Or how he interacted with the waitress like he wasn’t covered in red and brown love bites delivered directly atop Chief Hopper’s desk. He didn’t want to think what having all of Billy Hargrove’s attention on him did to his squirming...pleased...insides.

He didn’t want to think as Billy fingered him in the backseat.

They didn’t even fit back there but Billy moved with what felt like the strength of three men. It was arousing, being manhandled like that; any fear Steve ought to have held in his gut tapped its disapproving toe outside of the vehicle. The way Billy sucked behind his ear, gripped his hips so he could slot himself right in between Steve’s legs and rut his dark pink erection against Steve’s...

The way he bought Steve more milkshakes.

And a fresh tire rotation because his car veered to the left.

And filled him up in the darkness of Steve’s bedroom, making Steve bounce on his cock as he licked the taste of him off his lubed up fingers - 

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

It just...came out.

The husky lust cleared from Billy’s eyes when Steve said that. Terror must have filled Steve’s eyes because Billy gently cradled the side of his head.

This is it. This is how I die. Wanting a freaking kiss from a psycho -

“I thought you’d be the one to do that.”

Steve blinked vacantly at him. He could feel Billy’s heartbeat inside his ass and the guy just smiled -

“King Steve. Never thought you were shy - mmph.”

Billy’s bravado melted against Steve’s mouth. He hummed as he felt Steve’s precum on his belly, soaking them both with what he did to him, did to Steve and all of his flawed moral systems.

Steve pushed Billy onto his back with his kiss, tongue desperately tasting and exploring his mouth as his fingers laced behind Billy’s neck.

Until Billy reached up and pulled Steve’s hands apart, just enough for the bases of his palms to sit on both pulse points.

Billy did it himself: made his cheeks go pink and his chest flush red. But Steve made his ass slap against Billy’s thighs. Made Billy’s jaw go slack and his orgasm slow. Made his eyes water and his chest heave when he could breathe again.

Maybe that was his chance. His chance to make things right.

But with an empty Sheriff’s office down the road, and still no one the wiser, Hawkins wasn’t living by any sort of right anymore. The only right that Steve knew, was Billy’s hands making him feel powerful and precious.

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Unabridged: Hellfire (1980)

The X-Men, those often stripsearched mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 129 - 131) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Since I think Scott, square extraordinaire, would also say: “I know squat about rap, but this Vanilla Ice dude is excellent,” I’m not putting much stock in his musical opinions. (X-Men 130)

Before we finally reach the apotheosis of the Phoenix saga, we’re going to take it a little slowly by focusing on the first three issues of 1980. They are basically the ramp-up to the end, putting all the pieces in place for the X-equivalent of the Red Wedding, the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm or the explosion of Alderaan. But, before smashing the board, Claremont introduces three new queens to the game. Here they are, in order of Awesome:

Emma Frost, or The White Queen; a telepathic HBIC with ambitions beyond dressing up in lingerie;

Kitty Pryde, or Sprite (Shadowcat, these days);

Alison Blaire (Dazzler), a disco dolly with light powers who unfortunately starts out as a relic of time gone by.

But before we can expand, Claremont shrinks the cast: Banshee, who sold his voice to a sea witch has injured vocal chords, stays behind on Muir Isle, retiring officially. (It’s gonna be a while before he returns to the X-Family in any true capacity - I think it might be the 90s?) It’s the first time since Thunderbird’s death that the core cast changes, and it’s not that surprising that Sean gets the shaft: Banshee, who has been positioned as the older, more experienced member of the team, has had very little to do (and Claremont has seemed reluctant to flesh him out the way he has the rest of the X-Men). Sean is essentially a decent, upstanding man who has mastered the use of his powers: there’s very little way to go without breaking him down or changing the course of his character. (If you’re a fan of him, go read the Phalanx Covenant and 90’s Generation X: it’s the best use of Sean.)

Polaris, Havok and Jamie also stay in Scotland, choosing a quiet life without superheroics. (For those familiar with X-Factor, this is where you laugh and laugh and laugh.)

Jason Wyngarde, meanwhile keeps fucking with the Phoenix, using his psionic fantasies to unleash her darkest self.

Jean’s darkest fantasies amount to little more than a Victorian bodice ripper, which is adorable. (To be fair, if I were trapped in a lusty prison of my own design, I´d probably dream up my own Downton Abbey soap opera where I was sleeping with all the hunky house boys, so…) (X-Men 129)

Scott, meanwhile, reveals the sheer depths of his repression by admitting that he never let himself feel the grief for Jean’s death.

If you think it’s weird that Jean falls for a sleezeball like Wyngarde, remember that the love of her life is a man who is so repressed that it took him 5+ years to tell his friends he had a brother. Her taste in men is questionable at best. (X-Men 129)

The whole “I accidentally picked up a stray thought” has to be such a bullshit. It’s like your sister claiming that she heard from a friend of a friend that you like someone, while she actually just read it in your diary. Telepaths are snoops, Jean, own it.

Speaking of telepaths without boundary issues, Professor X is back from space! He immediately slips back into a stupid, patriarchal role and treats this X-Men team the same he treated his X-Men in the sixties. Scott is like: dude, these aren’t the same dumb teenagers we were, but Xavier won’t listen. Their squabble is interrupted by Cerebro, alerting them to the existence of two new mutants! One in NYC, one in Chicago.

Somewhere else, the Hellfire Club is revealed to be listening in: they have bugged the mansion a long time ago. While most the Inner Circle is featured in some way in this arc - we finally get to see Sebastian Shaw’s face! - the main villain here is the White Queen. She’s coordinating the attack on the X-Men and is looking to recruit Kitty for her Academy in Massachusetts.

It’s kind of bizarre that it took so long for this plot - an emerging young mutant is an object of interest for two competing factions - to be a main plotline, considering it’s such a staple for the X-Men mythos as a whole. (See, for example: the New Mutants, Generation-X, the Young X-Men, but also Rogue in the first X-Men movie and the whole of X-Men: First Class. Hell, X-Men Evolution’s first season was practically built on this trope.) It is kind of fitting that one of the mutants introduced this way is Kitty Pryde, the first X-Man that would be completely Chris Claremont’s creation.

While teacher’s pets Cyclops, Phoenix and Nightcrawler can go to New York, Xavier takes Colossus, Storm and Wolverine to a suburb in Chicago (“to monitor them in the field”, fuck you too, Chuck). In the Windy City, we meet plucky YA-novel heroine Kitty Pryde, who’s being tormented by headaches.

The KISS-poster in Kitty’s room is fortunately the only crossover we’ll have between the X-Men and the KISS-comics published by Marvel. (X-Men 129)

Just after a certain Ms. Frost has pitched her Academy to the Pryde parents, the X-Men arrive. While Charles works the parents, Ororo takes Kitty to get some ice cream, letting slip the secret of the X-Men.

Wolverine reading a titty mag in an ice cream shop while both Ororo and Charles are trying to convince people they run a legitimate school is a hilarious mood. (X-Men 129)

Kitty’s appearance is supposed to have been inspired by a young Katherine Hepburn, which is particularly evident in these panels.

Anyway, they are promptly attacked by Hellfire droids, who spook Kitty into jumping through a wall. Finally, her powers are confirmed: Kitty can become intangible, ‘phasing’ through objects. When the X-Men defeat the droids, Emma Frost comes along to finish the job, psychically overwhelming Storm, Wolverine and Colossus. She abucts them, not realizing Kitty has stowed away in their… floating… hovercraft… thing. She also manages to abduct Xavier.

I love how Emma’s to-do-list was:

Abduct the X-Men

Strip them naked (X-Men 130)

The Inner Circle and their motivations are slowly fleshed out: they’re all in it for power, money, glory. (Emma would love Lana del Ray.) But they’re not a united front: Wyngarde considers Phoenix the road to power, Emma believes in raising (and controlling) the next generation of mutants and Shaw… Well, Shaw is a clever opportunist, not afraid to sell out his own kind. (It’s heavily implied the Hellfire Club helped fund Lang’s Sentinel program.)

Through Jason, we pick up the thread in New York, where Jean and Scott visit some shady club downtown. Nightcrawler is stationed outside. Inside, Jean enjoys the relative perversion of the clubbing crowd, until Jason shows up and twists reality, shunting her to ‘their wedding day’.

It’s never made explicit, but in between the lines, it’s highly probable that Jason seduced Jean, violated her body and mind. That, combined with the whole BDSM/Marquis de Sade atmosphere of the Hellfire Club where the men are fully clothed and the women prance around in lingerie amounts to a whole lot of ick, ick, ick. (X-Men 130)

In Chicago, Kitty skulks around the compound of Frost Enterprises. She manages to creep up to Ororo’s cage, who gives her a number to call. Before she can do anything else, Emma sees her, calls all her henchmen cretins and orders her to get that pigeon kitty. Kitty flees and manages to get a call in.

Kurt picks up the phone in their limo (which feels super swanky for the eighties!) and Kitty delivers her warning. Kurt is then promptly attacked, as are Phoenix and Cyclops. Together, they make short work of their attackers, with the aid of Dazzler. Introductions follow:

Dazzler’s “nope” tells you about 80% of what her character is about. (X-Men 130)

It’s funny to see how relatively unknown the idea of mutants still is. Kitty doesn’t even consider it, even though freaky shit is happening to her, and Dazzler hilariously doesn’t give a figgin where her powers come from. (Though she may just be in denial. Anyone who wears a disco ball around her neck can’t be accused of good common sense.) In ten, twenty years, I bet there’s tons of teenagers in the Marvel Universe who get headaches or weird growing pains and fear that one morning, they might wake up a mutant.

It’s odd how Cerebro picks up Dazzler as a ‘neo-mutant’, even though it’s obvious she had her powers for a while. It might have to do with the fact that Dazzler wasn’t created by Claremont and Byrne, but by Tom DeFalco and John Romita Jr. However, because editorial wanted to Dazzler’s debut to make a splash, so they added her to their best-selling book and she had to be shoe-horned into this plot. She was originally intended to be closs-platform - there were plans for albums, Bo Derek would star as her in movies - but since Marvel had the keen foresight to introduce her just as disco was dying all of this got shelved. After a solo series, she’ll become a pretty solid B-Lister X-Man in a couple of years. (Should I be covering her solo series? It’s only very tangentially X-Related. Sound off below!)

Cyclops, Phoenix, Nightcrawler and Dazzler Trojan Horse their way into Frost Enterprises and make quick work of the White Queen’s cronies while Emma is creepily making Storm her personal plaything. Kitty, meanwhile, manages to free Wolverine by phasing through the electronic lock. Jean recognizes the Hellfire Club from her (fake) memories with Jason, but doesn’t connect the dots quite yet.

Emma, frustrated that her plan is falling to pieces, takes out her ire on Storm, threatening to lobotomize her. Jean… does not take this lightly.

“I understand you call yourself something of a telepath” is absolutely the most badass line Jean has ever uttered. Fuck yeah. (X-Men 131)

With the White Queen defeated (rumors of her death are greatly overrated), the X-Men can briefly regroup. Dazzler does not join the X-Men, being too into the idea of becoming the mutant Madonna, while Kitty is delivered back to her parents. To prevent a nasty scene, Jean casually alters the memories of her parents, removing the memories of Kitty’s involvement with the kidnapping of the X-Men. This also neatly prevents her parents from realizing what a horrible idea it is for a 13 year old to join a superhero squad. (Even if she has a defensive power.)

This arc ends with the two people who love Jean the most voicing their concern:

When you look up ‘muhahahaha’ in the dictionary, this picture of Jason Wyngarde will be the definition. (X-Men 131)

Hold onto your butts, people. We’re almost there.

[stevenbasic]

I know there are guys like this, Melissa thought to herself, guys like this all over the place. Guys that collect pictures of girls, built girls, save them all on their computers to do...ewww...whatever it is they do with them. She had some guys like that, still, she knew, as Instagram followers, even on her new, now-private profile. There was a smattering of guys, she knew, who basically stalked her, perved over her every post. She tended to indulge them, from time-to-time, throw them a little bone here or there, some cleavage, whatever. It was fun, for a while, she’d get a kick out of it, casually teasing these guys who simped for her. But it had kinda gotten old. Now it was more her friends who seemed to love it, love seeing it, love laughing at the guys. It was harmless enough fun, and these men were just sorta silly and pathetic. I just didn’t think Dr J was one of them…

She had needed to see for herself, have some time to process. It was eight AM but she’d needed to see for herself, all these pictures of her that Randi and Marisela told her he’d supposedly been hoarding on his office computer. On a Tuesday like this one she’d have plenty of time; he’d be doing his rounds at the hospital until mid-morning, when he’d return to the office. She’d closed his door so she’d be undisturbed as the other girls drifted into work. Melissa knew she needed to come to terms with this, and see what was on his computer for herself, especially after what Marisela had told her about what was going on….that kinda made her mad, too.

Okay, there it is, right where Marisela said it’d be, she thought. On his hard drive, the folder labeled “Protected”. Let’s see if this password works...

oh, my…

For some reason Melissa had found herself earlier this morning, while getting ready, almost unconsciously putting on heavier makeup, applying more layers of gloss and lipstick than she knew she should. She’d found herself pulling out a striped red dress, one that cinched too tight to her waist which - despite everything else getting bigger these days - seemed to be, if anything, slowly disappearing. This dress clung too tightly to her torso, she realized, its horizontal stripes only emphasizing the size of the bust she’d packed tightly this morning into her new, bigger bra. This dress was also wayyy too short, she knew, revealing too much of the long, flawless legs that she’d tanned to a deep olive in her week in the sun, sculpted in the gym to heavily-muscled perfection. It covered her overly-shapely rear, she also knew, but left little to the imagination as to its full size; her ass had grown huge, recently, and this dress surely did nothing to hide that. The heels she chose - yellow and too tall, really, to be appropriate for the office - would only highlight the muscle tone of her already large calves, make her glutes look even fuller, shift her weight to pull her shoulders back, further emphasizing her bust and exaggerating the already unmistakeably feminine aspects of her gait. Her hair, as well, she’d fluffed out more than usual this morning...why? The one thing she found herself foregoing, though, was perfume. I’ve been making enough of that myself, already, she’d thought, I don’t need it.

Oh, no, look at all this, Melissa lamented, finally opening the folder labeled “Melissa” and then audibly gasping at its contents...countless pictures of her. Where did he find it all? How much time has he spent collecting these?? She began to scroll through the thumbnails, everything from current images grabbed from her Instagram to old modeling pics he must have found in the internet to...where did he ever find these ones from Hooters?!?

Suddenly she was overcome when an image of him - sitting in this very chair, looking at these pictures and rubbing himself, sliding his hand into his pants - flashed into her head.

Is that what you do with these? Why else would you be...collecting them? Oh, Dr. J...not you, too?

As she marveled, wide-eyed, beginning to grasp the enormity of his collection, of just how many pictures of her he’d accumulated, it dawned on her: he also has dozens upon dozens of pictures of her in a bikini, from the past week - on his ph-..oh, wait. Oh god. He’s downloaded them all into here already...there’s a whole folder, a new one, called “conference”. 

Part of me wishes they never told me...

She flashed back, for the moment, to early yesterday morning, Monday in her new office with Randi and Marisela…

“...we got in last week, finally, Marisela cracked it,” Randi had said, “I just knew he’d have a porn stash. But that there’s so much of YOU in it…?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry Melissa,” Marisela had added, “The guy’s a total perv. We’ve known that for years…”

If nothing else she marveled, as she scrolled through the thumbnails, at his diligence, I haven’t seen some of these in ages. 

Another image flashed into her head, again him sitting at this desk with these pictures - god, he’s much smaller than me, isn’t he? He wouldn’t fill up this chair nearly as much as I do -  with his pants unzipped, pulled down his hips, he’s groaning. Looking at these pictures, zooming in on that one. 

His legs are so skinny compared to mine, she thought, as she felt her own body unconsciously flexing, his arms and shoulders so thin and weak. 

Why...why did this make her shiver a bit? Why did her mind keep picturing him...wanting to see him when he’d opened up this folder and started to-

But he shouldn’t be doing this! It’s like cheating on his wife. No matter what’s going on between him and Sheryl, he’s still a married man. Melissa could understand why Sheryl’d be mad. Yes, but…

Melissa flashed back again...

“Why are you so shocked?” Randi had asked her, “They’re all like this, every single one. Every single boss you’d ever had.”

At first, she admits, she was shocked. She couldn’t believe what they’d told her, shown her with the screen caps from his desktop - it can’t be!! this is the honorable, upstanding, respectable Dr J!! He’s not like the rest of them, all those other guys, is he?? Obsessive, fixated...

After the initial shock, the disbelief, she got kinda angry - she took this job thinking she was going to be valued for her brains, education, skills. She thought this job would allow her to develop in ways that other jobs, with other bosses, hadn’t. She’d always been a special girl, different from the rest. She had a unique way, she knew, of “growing into the job” - it’s what her mother called it. “Rising to the challenge of a new endeavor” she’d said, become what would allow her the greatest success. Problem had always been, though, that the best way to succeed at her old jobs had turned out to be the same. At Hooters it made sense, even in high school. But with frustration she’d found the same thing happened to her at Nordstrom’s, at the DMV, and at the Dealership. Instead of getting smarter, learning more, becoming more able and capable, she’d just gotten...curvier. Added cup sizes, inches to her hips. This job, after finally getting her degree, was supposed to be different. But now, seeing this screenshot of dozens of pictures of her from her boss’ porn stash, she was finally convinced that, once again she was hired just for her tits. She knew, of course, that he’d found her attractive. That he, being just a guy, could be pretty easily manipulated if she set her mind - and hourglass figure - to it. That she could get what she wanted at the office, be successful in her new position, because of her appearance. That would explain the two - no, three - new sets of bras. Why she’d torn through her yoga pants last week. His tastes were for curves upon curves...lots of guys’ were. And she figured she was growing faster here than at the old jobs because, well...she had become his friend. She’d spent more time with him. She’d grown to, well...really like him, more than she’d ever really admit. So maybe there were other things fueling her, uh, developments. But, again - he was married!

It was so confusing!

She could help it, another image came to her. This time he was still here alone in his office, maybe after hours, doors locked, knowing he’s alone - but now he was blatantly jerking off, pants down, around his ankles. Jerking off and leering at these pictures of her, this time looking - ohh why is this doing this to me?? Making my heart race?? - even smaller. He seemed to be shrunken, a small, small man, wide-eyed and staring, unblinking, at his screen. He was grunting, like a little animal, and shaking back and forth with his efforts.

She flashed back again...

”I know, I know,” Melissa had said, bemoaning this new situation, as if she was grieving some loss, “I know I had him up on a pedestal. I know it was maybe unreasonable. But now….now what am I supposed to do?”

“Missy, relax,” Randi had replied, “Just think- who was able to take him down off of that pedestal? Who did he have pictures of on his computer in a folder that he’s accessed...look at this...more than -four hundred- times? You! You! Face it You got where you are not just through hard work at school. You did hard work at the gym, building yourself in other ways. Despite everything you rose up at Hooters, at the DMV, at the dealership. You are YOU, and that’s what’s bringing you all this success. You as a person, your mind and your body.”

”I guess you’re right…” Melissa had said.

“Of course I am,” Randi had replied, “Use it all, use all you got. Not just your degree-“ At that she’d reached out and grabbed Melissa’s huge breasts, hands sinking into her pliancy, “but these too! Women have to use everything they have to take what they can get.”

The next image, in her mind, was one where he’s dramatically smaller still: How did he even get into the chair? He’s so little... His feet, dangling above the ground, hovered over his pants, now in a pile. He’s naked, in fact, and he’s so small he can barely see over the desk to the monitor, can barely reach his mouse to scroll, to click, to open picture after picture after picture of her. His groans and grunts have changed to whines and he sounds so needy as he’s trying and trying and trying to-

Groaning herself, Melissa was nearly overcome with the thought, and had to catch herself from sliding her hand between her own thick, bare thighs. What was this warmth? What was this subtle swelling in her chest? Why is this doing this to me?!? 

She flashes back again

“I guess it can't be helped, looking the way I do...” Melissa said, still in half-pout.

 “Don't feel bad, Missy, this is good,” Randi said, as Marisela just watched, observing these two, trying not to judge, learning, “Look at these folders he has - it’s not all of you. Look at all these pictures, these videos. It’s...worshipful. He’s in sheer awe of these women, and you’re one of them.”

Melissa nodded, new wheels, gears in the machinery of her inner self that she didn’t know existed, cranking to life, beginning to turn.

“You can use this to your advantage - to our advantage,” Randi added, encouraging her friend. Though remaining quiet, Marisela’s own pulse had begun to race, listening, hearing the subtext, thinking back on the conversations she and Randi had had. For her own part, Melissa’s feelings were still conflicted. Petulant anger and outright female outrage were at odds with the genuine affection she felt for him, an affection that more and more had been turning into...something deeper. A tugging at her belly. Something rich and wonderful she saw blossoming, when she closed her eyes and thought of him...thought of holding, thought of-

“If he honesty gets off to this sort of thing,” Randi pressed on, pointing at folders in the screenshot image from his desktop, folders labeled “Breast Expansion” or “Amazons” - “if that’s what he really wants....well, Missy. You could make him the happiest man on earth...”

=========================================================================

Original morph in the first image by Migsanch, and help with some of the dialogue by Antares.

[morwensteelsheen]

WIP wednesday thoughts:

willow cabin is utterly fucked because i changed my intended ~moral~ halfway through and now im stuck trying to integrate this shitty political intrigue plot into what should’ve been a more interesting story about éowyn adapting to life in gondor. hugely fucking annoyed by it and just totally unsure how to proceed. i could significantly increase the chapter count, but im worried that because the initial framing device was this bandits shit that closing out that plot and then still going for ages afterwards would be really shitty? i honestly don’t know, it’s so difficult. really i just need someone to read my outline and tell me if im being a dumb twat about it lol

meanwhile I know exactly where I want to go with AFTA but for some unaccountable reason im stressed that my ass is gonna get roasted for the direction i want to take it in. it’s all based in both tolkien’s personal politics and (some) historical precedent, but im worried people are gonna see it as a marysue-ification? but also im hoping to do sthg of a sequel to afta to practice the political intrigue writing so i don’t make the same mistakes i did in wc, and to do that it would require this specific set up in AFTA. im gonna put my AFTA thing under the cut so don’t click read more unless you’re gucci with potential AFTA spoilers!!

this royal affair au is definitely gonna get published at some point but im trying to decide if i want to do ~tasteful~ smut that drives a longer narrative or if im really just gonna do a whole 3,000 word build up to some run of the mill, old fashioned PWP lmao

okay so i have spent a Lot of time thinking about what impact i think éowyn and faramir would have on each other in a pre-ring war setting, and the honest to god conclusion ive come to is that they would somewhat inadvertently egg on each other’s (wildly divergent) idealism.

faramir’s an idealist politically in ways that, as Big D rightly points out, are not super productive in a wartime scenario. but so far as im concerned, the war doesn’t feel as warlike until they have to blow the bridge at osgiliath. until that point, there’s not really anything to say that faramir’s whole throwback optimism isn’t a perfectly justifiable position to have.

but what that idealism is and how it manifests are two really important considerations. the crux of his idealistic politics is that he looks at númenor and sees something valuable in it, and looks at gondor and sees a lot that he thinks is fucked up. outside of articulating a general angst towards the glory hunting, it’s not like he’s spending time talking about his specific policy prescriptions. however, we do know a few things that can guide us to a more coherent reconstruction of his politics:

he’s pretty rigidly hierarchical (when it’s convenient for him). as seen in: him basically telling sam to fuck off and stay in his lane in WOTW, and in how and when he chooses to refer to his father as ‘father’ vs ‘my lord’ or ‘lord of the city’ in the aftermath of the osgiliath retreat and then before he gets his ass sent back there. i don’t want to go into too much detail here but if i go with this i’ll definitely justify it more thoroughly in the footnotes.

so we’ve got faramir’s emphasis on hierarchy and his occasional (when convenient) belief that the upper echelons of a hierarchy are there because they’re intellectually and/or morally better. or, maybe to remove the causation from that instance, because they are in those upper echelons, they have an obligation to be more morally/intellectually upstanding, and the people in the structure below them have an obligation to show deference. unless you’re faramir and you’re dealing with denethor in which case that all goes out the window. classic.

we know there is some sort of nascent pseudo-democratic tradition of popular sovereignty in gondor. we know this because faramir asks the masses at aragorn’s coronation if they’ll accept him as king. faramir is a lot of things, but he is certainly not a progressive political radical, and i cannot imagine any situation in which he cooked up that rigmarole himself. that then implies to me that it’s building on some sort of political/cultural expectation in gondor. so: some sort of relationship to popular legitimacy. the people of gondor are subjects, but perhaps not as totally passive and unconsidered in the power structure as we might assume given the comparability to feudal europe/asia.

given those two things, i want to use AFTA to argue:

that faramir, in looking to assign blame for the faults he sees in gondor, would not directly assign blame to the lower classes, but rather to the aristocracy, because he will have seen them as failing in their moral obligations to the people they rule over. this is not to say that he isn’t fucked off about The People™ valorising war, but i think he’d take the position that they couldn’t possibly be expected to form those values and opinions of their own volition, and the fault lies in their rules. faramir: not gramscian.

faramir lacks any power that is non-military, and even that is of questionable worth because the rangers seem to be fairly distinct to the general structure of the army, and are not exactly a huge force.

faramir lacking any political power isn’t necessarily a huge concern for him (as in, he’s not actively trying to change that), because he knows he’s not going to lead a moral revolution and isn’t interested in taking up the responsibilities having political capital would engender because he’s stuck dealing with this war, that he fucking hates btw has he mentioned that he hates it?

however, given that he is apparently eminently versed in lore and scholarship, he is probably keenly aware that there is this incipient notion of popular legitimacy somewhere in gondor’s culture. it’s not, for most of his life, knowledge that actually does anything for him, but it is there.

éowyn, meanwhile, doesn’t really have many strong political convictions (yet). not because she’s a dumbass or whatever, but because she looks at court politics as kind of a farce, and doesn’t believe that power legitimately emanates from anywhere that isn’t a Big Fucking Army. and why, strictly speaking, would she not think that? the event that brought about the creation of her kingdom was not careful, soft spoken negotiation, it was her ancestors being in the right place at the right time with a Big Fucking Army.

and the internal politics of the Riddermark actually seem to be fairly stable, all things considered. i sincerely doubt that Théoden or Théodred are having to negotiate complex politicking in the way Denethor and Boromir are. so where, then, would éowyn see that kind of political behaviour outside gondor? with gríma.

éowyn, then, will see the immediate contrast between gríma (backroom dealer, manipulator extraordinaire) and théoden (owner of Big Fucking Army). and gríma goes and fucking wins that fight. that forces éowyn to confront the fact that, jesus christ, maybe there are different types of power.

at the same time, she’s going to be in minas tirith and needing to cover for théoden letting his shit get wrecked. not just because she’s prideful, which of course she is, but because if denethor/gondor think that théoden is too weak to hold up his end of the bargain, why would they ever go help the Mark? éowyn, seeing that théoden’s f-f-fucked, knows that there’s a very very good chance the Mark will need help.

against her feelings about courtly politics, she starts to accept that she’s going to need to do something to get power in gondor. not anything substantial, it’s not like she’s trying to overthrow anybody, but enough that when push comes to shove she can force denethor to help out the Mark (if he doesn’t do so willingly).

but, as ive sort of already shown in AFTA, she’s a bit of a dogshit diplomat. good for a little big-brawny-enforcer stuff, but not exactly brimming with cultural sensitivity. by the time she realises théoden + the Mark are fucked, she’ll have burnt quite a few bridges with the gondorrim nobles, and it’s not like she’s the sort of person to go running cap-in-hand begging for mercy.

so: she has to look elsewhere. and wow! a chance for faramir to do his favourite thing — talk about his opinions! and by god, his weird idealistic politics are… actually kind of helpful? because he’s like, look, you’re never gonna be a diplomat, but there are other ways of consolidating power. and one of those ways is by appealing to The People™. so why not work that angle?

and actually, we know that this is a viable route for éowyn because hama, in arguing for her to take up the mantle of théoden’s heir when théoden and éomer fuck off to helm’s deep, basically says that The People™ love her and would have willingly chosen her to lead them.

we also know, based on faramir’s middle men speech, that the people of gondor and the mark have grown alike in nature. not totally unreasonable to then think that the people of gondor would take to her like the people of the mark did.

éowyn, then, in various ways begins to try to win over the people of minas tirith. i need to do a little more research on this bc what ive got on the practicalities of that so far are a bit, uhhh, sketchy, but the least jargony way to describe this is to point to when natalie dormer’s character in GOT gets out of the carriage to go hug and kiss some babies. (marc bloch, eat your heart out)

this would later segue into a potential sequel where, while trying to secure the way for aragorn’s coronation, éowyn actually plays an interesting role because she’s fallen into this incidental Diana, People’s Princess™ role and so is better positioned than almost anyone to go advocate on his behalf. wow! cool! éowyn getting to be politically useful in more ways than just getting hitched!

so yeah. that’s how i am thinking it might play out. this would obviously have a rolling impact on the remainder of AFTA and how certain (🔥) events pan out later, but i think that building up part has to begin pretty much now, narratively. also this lets me get in a reference to “and then her heart changed, or else at last she understood it” and have it not be almost entirely about wanting to shag faramir, but actually about her gradual evolution from valorising war above all else to being like, hmm, maybe there are other ways of being powerful. which i think still largely captures the “no longer I will vie with the great riders” stuff, but more subtly and without feeling quite so… deferential, I guess? Like it’s not that she’s swapping one form of power (violence) for nothing (gardening?? healing?? tolkien accidental articulation of necropolitics??) but swapping violence for a different type of more sustainable power.

yeah. that’s the take, basically. who fucking knows.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

Sent by the very wonder @catmaid-san

ForeverSadJYL1.--- "A-Xian...Since I was a child, mom has said that the young master of Jin Clan will be my husband. Although we only met a few times, Young master Jin is radiant and handsome. Few girls will be unimpressed, I guess. I do wish to be together with Jin Zixuan till old and grey. But if our feelings are not mutual..."--------- It was tale as old as time. Of a gallant, handsome, and charming prince. With the ordinary and plain girl. Jiang Yanli once had fall in love with Jin Zixuan...

ForeverSadJYL2.--- Even when the Young Master of Jin Clan always saw him with distaste and dissatisfy in his eyes, She always smiled and continued liking him, because for young girls, handsome and prince-like boys in the kind of JZX was hard to ignore. Her heart can't help but fluttered everytime she thought that the handsome guy will become her husband in the future. And it was also something her mother always made her believed, that she and JZX will eventually marry.

ForeverSadJYL3.--- No matter how her chest tighthened in pain whenever she realized she had no worth in the eyes of JZX, no matter how she always wanted to cry whenever he snorted and looked forced in their so called little date, no matter how he always dismiss any attempt at conversation she make when they were made to know each other's more. No matter of it all, JYL always smiled and believed in her mother's words that it was all his teenage's temper, and JZX would be changed once they marry

ForeverSadJYL4.--- But....But....But! Years of always doing her best. Years of always being dismissed. Years of heart being broken. Years of always feeling unworthy. Which maiden whose heart not bled and tears not drained? JYL was not an exception. She might have smile in front of many insulting and underestimating stares. But did everyone actually forget that JYL was just a girl barely reached her twenties? Her first step in romance basically taught her that a plain girl is worth of no romance.

ForeverSadJYL5.--- She began to wonder , was it her fault that JZX was so dazzling, while she herself was so plain? was it her fault that JZX had so many talents and things to be praised, while she herself not even knowing which of her side was worth to be proud of? All of those wondering eventually reached to, "Was this engagement a mistake to begin with?" --------- And all of her feelings came into a new realization when her shidi, WWX, brawled with JZX and broke the engagement in result.

ForeverSadJYL6.--- "A-Xian...You must have started the fight because he said something, right? Silly, i watched you grow, i know everything about you. You wouldn't have started a fight for a reason simply like he was annoying"------------ "...after i think it over, Actually I....I'm not into Young Master Jin. A-Xian...You did nothing wrong. Though Young Master Jin is attractive, I still want to seek my true love. Heart to heart, till the end." ---------- is a new resolve JYL made that night.

ForeverSadJYL7.--- More than a decade of heartache, and JZX still didn't change, Jiang Yanli knew which fight she should keep on fighting, and which one she should just gave up. If the engagement wasn't meant to be, then so be it. If anything, her heart swelled up and there's a warm feeling bubbled inside her when she knew WWX defended her honour even when he knew it'd sullied his instead. Seeing him didn't even make an excuse when Madam Yu berated him, make her feel she was still "worth it"...

ForeverSadJYL8--- JZX couldn't appreciate her no matter how hard she tried. While WWX he was bragging and praising her at every hour even at the smallest matter. He said, she was the best and she was the prettiest of all. Before, she fell to JZX because of his prince-like self and her daydream of being swooped off her feet by a handsome prince. Now,JYL realized that when her prince didn't come with his carriage, there's still a knight in shining armor with a donkey(LMAO, can't help but trolling)

ForeverSadJYL9.--- WWX was her knight in shining armor for JYL. He was always ready to protect her, to defend her every bit, and put her on a pedestal. The child before her grew up to be an upstanding, strong and honorable young men, and JYL couldn't help but see him in the way woman see a men. JYL could only hope that with her betrothal now severed, and as WWX grew up and proved his worth even more, perhaps...she could hope for a chance that her parent somehow see him as a noteworthy suitor..

ForeverSadJYL10.--- BUT! Life is a bitch! Hope is the cruelest thing ever. As the fire raged and swallowed everything his sect ever had, it also blazed the hopes JYL had in life. Her parent was dead. Her brother fought alone, and WWX was missing God knew where. JYL wondered if there's anything crueler that fates prepared for her...But she must stand her ground and stay strong. Her brother needed her. And she could dismiss her personal feelings to continue being emotional support for her brother.

ForeverSadJYL11.--- When WWX finally appeared again, she was relieved beyond belief. There's still limit where she could smile and smile and encourage others without another person who did the same for her. JC is her brother, he was a good boy, but he's bad with his words and he's not good with affection. WWX was someone JYL had as her oasis with his ever so bright and returning smiles and all of his showering affections. It was hard for his presence not to be yearned when he was gone.

ForeverSadJYL12.--- WWX returned, but his smiles didn't return with him. Everyone might have not notice, even JC didn't notice, with his laughter and smiles WWX still plastered on his face. But JYL knew. She knew everything about him after all. She knew it was strenuous. She knew his outwards laugh didn't feel genuine at all. He was changed. But which people who didn't change in this raging war? But at least she knew that his smiles when he finally met her again was warm and full of relieves...

ForeverSadJYL13.--- JYL knew that WWX liked her lotus roots and pork rib soup...Not because of an amazing recipes. She knew because it was something that reminded him of home...the taste that reminded him he had a place he belonged to. And JYL would be glad to cook it over and over again if it could reassure him he still had people who loved him and would be there for him. The incident with JZX was something she didn't predicted to be honest. Though, it made JYL deepened her feelings towards WWX

ForeverSadJYL14.--- It was the Jins who helped her when Lotus Pier fall, so JYL just wanted to express her gratitude by always sparing JZX of her cooking. It was not unexpecte that JZX accused her of lying and stealing other's efforts, she didn't feel surprised that JZX even dared to insult her in public, without even trying to find the truth at all. She was, after all, not worthy of anything to the Young Master of Jin Clan. Though she knew it all, it's still hard to keep her tears from falling.

ForeverSadJYL15.--- It was all WWX again, always him, who defended her, who protected her from even a malicious remarks. He didn't hesitate to throw a punch and berated JZX, even at the chance of YMJ lost an ally to the war. Honestly...just how many times WWX did proved her again that she was worthy, more than she ever thought. It's hard not to love someone like him. JYL just wanted for the war to end, their life returned to normal, She,with her brother, and the men she loved with all her heart.

ForeverSadJYL16.--- But! Did she somehow forget that hopes were the cruelest thing? The war ended, and yet their life didn't return to normal. WWX was praised for a hero in a battlefield. But he was a mere madman in time of peace. And she knew that WWX understand it himself. JC was struggling with building a sect. If building a sect was just literally built the building, perhaps it'd be much easier, but it was not. With Madam Jin back again to shove her on JZX's arms, she knew she had it coming.catmaid-san

ForeverSadJYL17---JYL knew she couldn't help JC in anything. The only thing she could offer was by securing an ally to Jin Sect with marriage. She let it happened. Madam Jin blatant matchmaking, JZX's insufferable presence, she'd bear it all for her brother...even when it include sacrificing her love towards WWX. In all honesty, when WWX once asked her "how do you know you like someone", JYL wanted so badly to answer "the feelings i feel with you right now is how i know i love someone so dearly"

ForeverSadJYL18.--- WWX left Lotus Pier. She always knew with how tense the situation surrounding WWX post-war, it'd be the matter of time for WWX to break it and left the cultivation world. JYL knew and she understand it. WWX was always like that. He helped others in need no matter he went, and erected justice he believed. It was after all one of the thing she loved in WWX. If life must go on then let it be, let them walked their only choice path in life, and search for happiness along the way.

ForeverSadJYL19.--- And yet, she can't help but wanting to visit him, to show him her wedding dress. It was all a wistful thinking. Of wanting WWX to see her in a wedding attires no matter what. She once dreamed to marry JZX and live as a princess-like. But a dream was only a dream. The one thing she wished more sincerely in her life was to marry WWX and be loved forever. JYL wanted to be selfish one more time. She wanted him to see her as a bride and wanted him to praise her as a pretty bride..

ForeverSadJYL20.--- Life went on. For the n-th time JYL's wishes to be finally happy wasn't granted. JZX died. It was said WWX who killed him. She grieved for a man, though not the one she loved, but at least for the father of her child who had tried his best to mend his mistakes in the past. She knew WWX wouldn't touch JZX without any provoking attempt. But even when she believed WWX, for her beloved wasn't what people think at all. Still, life is a bitch. People already cried for his death...

ForeverSadJYL21.--- "A-Xian...before, why did you run? I wanted to tell you...,"--------------------------------------------JYL once wondered if fates had ever smiled at her. She once wondered if things could be crueler than she already had. She was wrong. Apparently fates had unlimited cruelty reserved for her. Before she knew it, her body already moved and protected WWX from looming death. WWX always proved her that she was worth it. And for once JYL wanted to show him he was also worth it...

[drwcn]

Think lan zhan and jiang yanli could be friends like wei ying and wen qing are friends? If they had the chance I could see it. Totally imagining lan zhan being bewildered at first, but than actually seeing why wei ying loves his sister so much. Also totally see them silently judging idiot people together and working together to keep wei ying mentally safe. Yanli teaching him how to cook and things about her brother.

YAS！ LWJ and JYL judging people together is Mood. I will die on this hill.

(and bc i hate sleep, i got inspired by your ask and wrote this brain vomit from my btsf!verse that no one asked for, and yet i shall shamelessly impose on the world. It’s a different take on jiang yanli chewing out jin zixun and lan wangji being there and being generally awesome. ) 

Jin Zixun is causing a scene. 

Again. 

In broad daylight in the middle of one of Jinlintai’s gardens no less. The Jins had planted lovely peonies, which are all in bloom now. Jiang Yanli had intended to enjoy them for an hour or two, but it seems her morning plans are about to be ruined. What she initially dismissed as a minor nuisance is quickly becoming an irritating fixture in her life. She has half a mind to be rid of this no good Jin cousin for good, and for that matter, she can count a good number of people who would oblige her. 

Standing toe to toe with Jin Zixun, Wei Wuxian is shaking with fury from whatever the other man had said. Not that anything even remotely tasteful has ever been produced by Jin Zixun’s mouth. It’s only productive function is eating, as that seems to be the only time he’s quiet and therefore marginally tolerable. 

Jiang Yanli already feels a headache looming just from the reminder of his mere existence. 

Lan Wangji is the first to notice her. He has one hand wrapped around Wei Ying’s wrist and another around Bichen’s sheath, pressing it across Jin Zixun’s chest to deter him from taking another step closer. Upon seeing her entourage approaching, he steps back and bows respectfully. 

“Sect Master Jiang.” 

Like wise, Jin Zixun reluctantly gives a half-hearted bow. She ignores him. For now. 

Remembering himself, Wei Wuxian flinches and quickly follows suit. “Zongzhu.” He greets her quietly. [zongzhu = sect master]

He doesn’t call her shi-jie anymore, at least not in public. 

Since the day she declared herself Sect Master of Yunmeng Jiang, A-Xian has been on his very best behaviour. Every word, every conduct, has strictly been adherent to what is expected of someone in his status and station. But Jiang Yanli could only frown. True, he is her left hand man, her lieutenant, her zuo-hufa, but he is firstly her brother, and she will not stand for him being pushed around by some second rate cultivator just so she could be spared “conflict”.

Turning her head slightly over her shoulder, she makes a small motion for Binghu (冰湖) and Shuangxue (霜雪) to stand down. Dealing with a gnat like Jin Zixun is too menial a task for upstanding cultivators like her personal guards. No, A-Xian is her brother, so Jiang Yanli will deal with this herself, and those who crosses her will only ever be sorry. 

“A-Xian, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing, zongzhu. A minor disagreement is all.” Clearly lies. 

Jiang Yanli looks to Lan Wangji. The younger man does not let go of his betrothed’s wrist, but he does lower his eyes out of deference to her. “Zhangjie, Jin Zixun-gongzi suggested that your brother Jiang-gongzi should be disqualified from tomorrow’s hunt on account of his unorthodox cultivation method. He said that he who could not protect his own golden core has no place amongst cultivators.” [zhangjie = a formal way of saying older sister]

Zhangjie. Rather bold of him to call her that, seeing he and A-Xian are not yet legally wed. But perhaps his choice of words is deliberate, used to remind her that Wei Wuxian is not just her subordinate, but her family. She’d be offended if the gesture isn’t so genuinely endearing. Lan Wangji is a quiet one, but so fiercely protective of Wei Wuxian. Out of this wretched war and all the underhanded maneuvers she’s been forced to take, nothing has pleased her more than this marriage alliance that she and Lan Xichen arranged.

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian frowns and admonishes him quietly.  

“I spoke the truth.” 

Jiang Yanli casts Jin Zixun an aloof side glance, then says, “Perhaps I have confused the rules. Clarify for me, Wangji, is spiritual cultivation required for the hunt tomorrow?”

“No.” 

“Does cultivation affect the participant’s performance and ability?”

“No. Not if they follow the rules of conduct.”

“The Hunt is a strictly skills based competition is it not?”

“It is.” 

“Well then, I think that settles that. A rather simple mistake, Jin Zixun-gongzi, but I wouldn’t fret too much if you didn’t remember. This has been trying times for us all.”Jiang Yanli’s smile is bright but scorching, like the desert sun. 

Colour rises in Jin Zixun’s cheeks. He turns up his nose and huffs, “Has Yunmeng Jiang fallen so low that there’s no one left but deviants, servants, and women?”  

Wei Wuxian starts towards him, fully intending to throttle the man, but Jiang Yanli calms him with a gentle hand. Unflustered, she turns her full attention to the Jin cousin. The smile on her face does not dim, but her eyes are glacial. 

“Deviants, servants, and women. It’s true. We are that. But what can be done? It is unfortunate that there’s not enough reliable cultivators to count on, that even deviants, servants, and women must be forced to take up arms against a tyrant. How tiresome that we must not only fight our own fights, but you cultivators’ fights too.”

“How dare you -” Jin Zixun bristles, which is about as intimidating as an angry ferret, in Jiang Yanli’s considered opinion.

“Shall I remind you when you led your troops into enemy territory last winter in a bullheaded attempt to boast your ego, whose squadron came to your aid when you were trapped, starving in the snow? Whose food fed your men’s bellies, whose blankets and tents warmed your bodies in that storm?” Jiang Yanli does not raise her tone, but holds nothing back. “And who, after you so pitifully grovelled, omitted your incompetence from the report to your uncle and Sect Master.” 

“I -” Jin Zixun darkens from red to purple, unable to come up with a single word of refute. Typical. 

Jiang Yanli plows on.

“If we deviants, servants, and women are not befitting polite company and the gentlemanly sport of hunting, then you sir, with so little grace and gratitude for the people who saved your life and the lives of your kinsmen, are not fit to even stand in our presence.” She takes a step closer, forcing him back. “You’re right. I am a woman, but Wei Wuxian was raised along side myself and Jiang Cheng, as close to us as flesh and blood. That you have called him a servant is untrue and a grave offence, which I will not accept. So remembering that, Jin Zixun-gongzi, you will apologize to my brother, Yunmeng Jiang’s zuo-hufa Wei Wuxian. Immediately.”

It is Jin Zixun’s turn to shake, too humiliated and furious to say a thing. It’s clear that he’d rather the ground swallow him than apologize, but as servants and disciples start to crowd around them, whispering and pointing, it seems he has no choice. Jiang Yanli is still a sect master, and Wei Wuxian is a much respected hero. 

“Apologies, Wei-gongzi.” 

“What’s going on here?” Behind Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, Jin Zixuan and Qin Su can be seen making their way towards them from the other end of the lang. The latter of the two dips in a proper courtesy of a gentlewoman, but the former only manages an awkward cultivator’s bow without meeting Jiang Yanli’s eyes.  

“Nothing that needs to worry you, Jin-gongzi. Just a small misunderstanding, all cleared up now. Is that not so, Zixun-gongzi, Wangji, A-Xian?”

“Barely a tiff.” Lan Zhan lies with a straight face. Wei Ying says nothing. 

Jin Zixun forces himself to nod once. 

Jiang Yanli quickly forgets that such a person ever existed. Stepping up to the two that just joined them, she offers her usual sweet smile. “I don’t believe I’ve had the opportunity to congratulate you both on your upcoming nuptials. Such wonderful news! Qin-meimei, Madam Jin has asked me to consult on the design of your fengguan, I hope we shall see more of each other so I can make better judgement of your preferences.”

Qin Su blushes. “Jiang-jiejie - eh - Jiang-zongzhu, you tease me! There’s been so much to do lately, we’ve not had time to send out the invites. I - Congratulations to your family too, Hanguang-jun, Wei-gongzi.”

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian return her well wishes politely, though somewhat with a stiff back. Jiang Yanli internally frowns, wondering perhaps things aren’t going as well she is led to believe… A matter she needs to think on later. 

“Well, I must be off now. I wish I had the endurance of a cultivator, but alas the summer heat is somewhat getting to me. Do enjoy the peonies though, Qin-meimei, Jin-gongzi, they are lovely this year. Wangji, A-Xian, come.”

Jiang Yanli leaves the garden at a leisurely pace, her head held up high, followed by her brothers and her entourage. As she turns at the round archway, she spares a discreet glance towards Jin Guangshan’s son and his future bride, a pairs of unfortunate siblings trying to fit into each other’s lives and unknowingly heading towards a disaster.

She decides to let that one stew a little longer. For now no real damage is done - Jin Zixuan is far to awkward even if Qin Su finds him handsome. The marriage won’t go through; she’s not so cruel that she will actually let that runaway carriage go off the proverbial cliff. However, the key to every offensive strike is timing, and now is not the time to reveal the truth to them. As long as Madam Qin is medically incapacitated, the secret holds, and she will stay that way for a while yet. Jiang Yanli muses that she rather likes the landscape now the way it is, and longs to see the day Jin Guangshan and Qin Cangye gets what’s coming to them.

-

1. zongzhu = sect master2. zuo-hufa =  the “zuo - left” hand man of the sect master. Their function is to serve and protect the sect master, as the word hufa literally means protector. 3.  Binghu (冰湖) & Shuangxue (霜雪) - YJL’s bodyguards. Binghu means ice, lake, Shuangxue means frost, snow. 4.  zhangjie = a formal way of saying older sister.5. lang =  A long, belt-like structure, Lang, the covered corridor is a roofed passage usually with low railings and long side benches. 6. meimei = younger sister. jiejie = older sister. When used in conjunction with last names, this is a way for women who are familiar with each other to address each other. I7.  fengguan 凤冠 = it’s the term for the headpiece that brides wear on their wedding day. 

[guidedbygunpla]

Gundam REDUX side story Chapter 4: Just another boy, lost in the woods.

             Char and Lalah walked for a while, mostly in silence, both of their minds clear of thoughts, simply watching the waves crash against the shore they walked along.

             “have you ever walked along a beach before?” Lalah asked, after a long while

             “no, the colonies I grew up in on side 3 didn’t have any real bodies of water, and I have mostly been stationed inland or in space up til now…..it’s nice, if I were to ever live in a colony with a  body of water, or god forbid move to earth, I could see myself building a house alongside the ocean, this is so calming”              “why would you say god forbid when talking about moving to earth, I thought that was your fathers one true wish….to move back to earth”              “it was, he always…..wait, my father?”              “you can’t hide things from me, I can read your mind after all. It’s alright though I won’t tell anyone about it, I realize you have to keep this mask on in order to protect me, and save those girls in the lab. Sorry I should’ve told you I was probing your thoughts”              “…well, yes you should’ve, but now that its out there in the open, yes it was my fathers dream that humanity would get to come back to earth, but we can’t. most of the globe is just salt water and sand at this point, the colonies were built as a cage, but the world outside of the cage is so much worse now then when we were put into that cage. Every cylinder on a colony can grow enough food to feed 150% of its population, the earth….I doubt it could grow enough for even 30% of the people living out there now.”              there was another long pause as they stared out at the ocean, the body of a zaku floated into view, its paint peeling off, and the high carbon steel below showed through, rusted and destroyed, likely the only thing keeping it afloat was the helium stored in its tanks that had failed to explode or leak out              “so you know my real name then, don’t you Lalah”              “yea, Casval…..your father was named Zeon, at least that’s the name you know he was given when he helped found the Contolist Church. Something about hot water and wine”              “old catholic ideas mixed with space age realities.”              “he called you Cassie, and he called your sister Arty. I like those names” Lalah said as she turned and looked at Char, her green eyes looked other worldly on her, as if she was looking into his very soul, which she kind of was.

             “so you know everything about me then huh…and yet I know nothing about you, seems a tad bit unfair” Char said as he reached up and took his helmet off, and his visor along with it, the world looking far brighter, and far more real without the rose tinted glasses

             “well….what do you want to know? I don’t mind telling you about myself, but where should I start?”              the pair of them followed the beach into a small sea side town, or the remains of one. The town looked to have been abandoned in a hurry, with cars still sitting along the road, and doors to homes and shops hanging open.              “well, where did you grow up? When did you learn about your powers? How’d you find yourself out here? If you don’t mind me asking of course” Char asked, his voice cautious

             “well, I grew up in Hyderabad in India. My mother was an Arcologist working with the local colleges Colonial science division and my dad was a politician, nothing huge though, mostly just treasury work”              “ah the earth born elite, must’ve been nice”

             “ha… it was awful, so many responsibilities. I just wanted to live, but it was always you have to go to your violin lesson Geetika, you have to go to your cram classes Geetika, you have to be home by 4 Geetika, your GPA is getting too low again Geetika. I hated it…I just wanted to be free, to explore. My parents didn’t understand it.”

             “Geetika? Is that your real name?              “yes, I was born Geetika Acharya Prasanna.”

             “so where did Lalah come from, I’m assuming you know where the name Charles Aznable comes from, but where did Lalah Sune come from?”              “ do you mind if we go for a drive? My feet are getting awfully tired” Lalah said motioning towards a derelict car that was sitting alongside the road. It was a small orange convertible, sporty, something that would’ve cost a lot of money.              “fancy….but I should mention, I have no idea how to drive” char said running his hand through his hair with a laugh.

             “oh right, you always had a driver, so you never had to learn to drive anything other than a mobile suit. Don’t worry I can take care of that” Lalah said as she opened the door and reached below the dashboard, below the steering wheel and began to muck about with the wiring harness to the car, until eventually the engine sputtered to life, the smell of burning ethanol filling the air              “what is that smell?” Char asked aloud              “its alcohol, have you never been around a car before?” Lalah said, patting the passenger seat              “well of course I have, but in the colonies theyre all electric, makes more sense, since you live in something covered in solar panels “              “well on earth we run cars off of alcohol” Lalah said as she put the car into gear and took off down the road through this old seaside town

“makes sense I suppose, it is flammable, and the sound the engine makes is quite pleasant” Char said setting his helmet and Visor in the footwell next to his feet and trying to relax as Lalah drove

“lords above, you can really tell just how high born you are sometimes Casval” Lalah said

with a laugh “so yea, I changed my name to Lalah Sune when I ran away from home, I didn’t want my family to be able to find me, I really just wanted to be left alone. There was a movie out at the time, Farewell Summer, and the lead actress in it was named Lalah Sune, I thought it was a nice name, so I took it. What we’re your other questions again?” Lalah asked as she pulled onto the on ramp to one of the old highways that snaked across the American west.

             “well when did you learn about your powers?” Char asked as he sat back into the plush suede seats of the convertible              “I think I always knew, when I was a kid I told doctors that I heard voices, that it was hard to think sometimes because it was so loud in my head, they thought I was crazy. Put me on medication after medication to try to fix it, I’d say I was about ten when I realized I could sort of control it by focusing on one or two peoples thoughts and then I would only hear those few voices, and when it was with people I loved, people I wanted to spend time with, it got much easier. It wasn’t until I met my first real boyfriend that I realized I was genuinely hearing their thoughts. I realized I could hear what he thought of me, and see what he fantasized about….it was quite freeing, knowing how much someone loves you, understanding them completely like that”

             “ugh, I’m not sure I could handle knowing what the people I’ve been with through the years thought of me. I’d feel so exposed” Char said laying his head back into the seat, watching the sky fly past over head as the sun began to set across the sea

             “well I mean, you’ve only ever loved Garma and another boy from when you were much younger right?”

             “I always feel bad that I can’t remember his name, he was my first kiss and I cant recall his name for the life of me. It was on a scout outing, my first real taste of life outside of Zeon and its trappings, no one treated me like royalty, I was just another boy in the woods. He told me he liked my eyes, and then he kissed me when the camp counselors were away….”

             “that’s why you fell in love with Garma right? Because when you saw him at your fathers funeral, he looked like the boy right? Same jet black hair, with the little curls in it?”

             “god there really are no secrets with you are there?….well yea, Garma looked like him sure, and he treated me the same way too, like I was just another boy lost in the woods. It was hard not to fall in love with him”

             “it is a shame you had to kill him, I can tell that thought is weighing heavily on your soul. But you felt you had no choice….couldn’t let your fathers ghost watch you become a member of the family that killed him….I am sorry you went through all of that Char.”

They stopped the car, as the road ahead of them was smashed and destroyed, a body of a Gouf lay shattered across it, oil and reactor coolant pooling up on the road ahead of them

             “thank you Lalah, it means a lot.”              “you saved me from a laboratory where every person in it would think about slicing my head open to see what was inside, like I was a pinata. I owe you more thanks than I could ever give.”              “I did the only moral thing” Char said turning to look at her, her green eyes again looked as if they held the entire cosmos within them

             “so often in war we want to be the moral and upstanding person, but within your heart I see that you know you cant always be right, that sometimes you have to be evil so that the right thing can be won out.” Lalah said as she turned the car around and headed back towards the flanagin institute and the Gow Char had come in on

               “so where will you go now? Now that you are free?” Char asked her

             “I will follow you Char, I know if I leave your side, my powers will be discovered again, and next time they might not take so much time to study me.”              “of course.”

 _______________________________

When Char returned to the flanagin institute he found Dozle was quite upset with him having broken Lalah out, saying that she was going to be a vital part of their newtype weapons program. Char informed him that he was going to train Lalah to be a pilot, and this calmed him somewhat. When char broached the question of the clones in the basement, and if he knew whose children they were, Dozle simple said

             “in war, sacrifices have to be made, and some men are strong enough to make that sacrifice.”

Char knew then that Dozle knew they were Gihrens children, he knew. He just chose to accept it as it was, as a fact of the world. An evil that had to be committed so that the right thing would win out in the end. No different to Dozle than killing Garma had been to Char. What a twisted world this had become Char thought to himself.

             He took Lalah aboard the Gow, and to his quarters, as an officer he had a private cabin, nothing outlandish. But he did have a private bedroom. Living quarters with a kitchenette and a bathroom to himself. He insisted on a second bed be brought in for Lalah, so she didn’t have to be near the common soldiers they were transporting as well.

             “I hope this is alright with you Lalah” Char said as they wheeled the spare bed into his quarters

             “oh its much better than I expected, in the institute I was kept in a padded cell, so this is definitely a step up” Lalah said with a laugh

             “I know this goes without saying Lalah, but everything we discussed today, no one can..”

             “remember, Char I can read your thoughts, I can see everything your minds eye can create. It’s fine, all your secrets are safe with me.”

             “right, of course. If you’d like I could go check with some of the female crew onboard, see if I could get some spare clothes for you, I think the only thing you took with you was that yellow dress”

             “that won’t be necessary, I typically just sleep nude. Growing up in india, sleeping nude in front of a fan was typically the only way to feel cold enough to sleep” she said with a side eye to Char, as small smile on her lips

             “oh….of course, well I will make sure to knock before leaving my room to come out here into the living area then, so as not to disturb you” char said looking away sheepishly

             “are you bothered by this Char? I know you find me attractive, and surely you can tell, even without the ability to read minds that I clearly think highly of you” Lalah said as she walked towards Char and wrapped her arms around his neck. Char felt himself expanding, his mind growing larger than his head, the walls around him disappeared, all he could see was swirling dust and stars, it was like he was floating above the milky way itself, the sounds of the waves crashing, and the feeling of floating at sea.

             “there is nothing to fear Char, I can feel you in ways that I have never felt a man before, you are a Newtype like me, we just need to unlock your powers, I can help you do that”

             “Lalah I don’t know what I am feeling right now, this is quite overwhelming”

             “we are melting into one another, our minds are becoming one, isn’t it a wonderful feeling Cassie”

             “it feels like I’m going home, I feel welcomed, I feel whole”

             “Char if you want me to stop, please just tell me….but I can tell you want this too, something inside both of us craves this”

             “I do, but Lalah, I’ve never, I mean….I’ve only ever been with Garma, I’m not sure I’ll know how to”

             “you are inside of my mind now Char, you’ll know”

               The world was a blizzard, a fire, a tropical storm. Small masses swirled dust around them until a planet formed from them. Humanity was formed, and they explored every inch of this ball of dust, until they could only explore what was above them, they saw the stars they saw the heavens. They touched the very face of god.

             Waves crashed, and Char felt his consciousness expand more and more. He could feel what lalah felt, he could see time, he could see the past, he could see the future, he could feel what had happened, what would happen. Lalahs third eye guiding him. He saw Lalah and him, in a small farm house on side 6, he could feel there was a family inside that house, that love would blossom in that small farm house.              was this his future?

                           Was he falling in love with Lalah?

Was this his past?

                                                         Was this a home his mother and father had shared before Zeon?

             He felt waves crashing as he made love with Lalah, it was different than making love to a man. But not wildly so, he had never imagined falling in love with a woman, he had never imagined himself falling in love for that fact. With Garma he always felt a pang of guilt when they were intimate, as Char knew how this was going to end. With Lalah he still felt guilt, but it was because of Garma, that if his fathers religion was right, Garma was likely watching him right now, making love to a woman less than a week after he had killed him.

             Garma didn’t deserve that, and Char didn’t deserve this

                           He heard Lalahs voice in his mind

                                         This is Life, none of us deserve it. It is a gift. And a curse. But we are different we aren’t tied to life the same way as others, our minds are free of it

               Char then found himself making love to Garma, they were both older, and there was a large bay window in the room, overlooking the Californian beaches he had seen earlier.              there were photos on the wall, Char in a tuxedo, and Garma in a white Zeon dress uniform, just covered in medals. A Contolist priest behind them.              was this a world where they had won the war? A world where Garma and him had married?

What was happening?

               He found himself now, a teenager, riding horses through the woods, the boy from camp was there with him, along with Garma, and a teenage Lalah, all riding horses through the forests of Side 3. The horse he rode on was familiar, it was Honeydew. His horse from childhood, She was okay, she was alive. She was fully grown

               “Lalah what are you showing me?” He asked concerned, this was terrifying, and wonderful

“as newtypes, we aren’t tied to reality the same as other people, when we’re together we can experience any reality we want”

He felt his mortal body climax, somewhere in the wake of this all, in the very distant part of space where surely his human form still lay, making love with Lalah

Char felt his body shrinking, he lay now as a baby, laying in his mothers arms as she rocked him, and sang to him, trying to help him sleep.

             He felt the world shrinking too, as he came back into his own body, Lalah held him, as he regained some semblance of consciousness.

             “I am sorry if that was overwhelming, I have never been intimate with another person like myself before, I wasn’t aware it would be so powerful.” Lalah said as she craned Chars lips to hers, kissing him softly

             “were those just fantasies? Or was any of that real?” Char asked as he sat up, he realized they were laying in his bed, and judging by the clock on his night stand they had made love for about 3 and a half hours.

             “I don’t entirely know, I know anytime I’ve made love I’ve ended up there, and when I was at Flanagan there would be times when I spoke with those experiments, I would feel my mind begin to expand the same as it did during the beginning throughs of passion, but I have only ever met 3 people outside of Flanagan like myself, and you are the first of them that I have ever made love with. I would occasionally feel my mind expand around the others, and moments where our minds would meld and we would fall into that place, where it feels like you’re in outerspace, but never like that, where we saw other worlds together.”              “I need you to teach me how to use this power Lalah, I want to be able to control it, I want to explore all of those places again” Char said as he kissed Lalah again

               “of course, I owe you more thanks than I could ever give”

[thronesofshadows]

First Impressions || Roland & Evelyn

TIMING: Last Week PARTIES: @sgtrolandhills and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Roland is a good and upstanding citizen. Evelyn, not so much, but she fakes it well?

Duty wasn’t something that just left Roland when he checked out of the station for the night. It was something he lived and breathed. Even in his personal time, if there was a way he could serve his community, he was usually open to it. It was why as he was walking back to his car, takeout bags in hand, he paused as he heard whimpering nearby. It mattered little that he was off duty. If someone needed his help, he was going to do what he could. He peeked around a corner onto a dimly lit street and saw a young woman with a much larger man. It sounded as if the whimpering was coming from her, but he swore he saw the man crying. He blinked slowly, trying to get a good grip on the situation before he called out, “What’s going on out here?”

So Alain knew what she was and there was no going back from that. That didn’t mean that she had to stop being who she was, though. She still needed to feed, and Evelyn still got a thrill out of certain other methods of feeding. Of giving those who most deserved it their dues. The man in particular today reminded her of a less well-kept version of many of the patrons of her own bar. She hadn’t even had to invite him out, this time. He’d followed her after she’d left Dell’s and that was how they’d ended up in their present situation. He’d made some stupid comment about her hair and had asked her some question she hadn’t paid attention to, and because she was someone who could deal wth this sort of thing with a fair amount of ease, and so she’d grinned, a perfect smile flashed before she ran her hand along his arm and looked right into his eyes. She couldn’t paralyze with her gaze, but that didn’t mean that it was any less terrifying to experience. He began to whimper and she felt a small smile creep over her lips before she heard someone else’s voice. Shoot. This town was too nosy for its own good, sometimes. Her facial expression dropped and she let her eyes grow wide, brushing her fingers against them and putting the contacts in. “He followed me.” She blinked - once, twice, three times. “I don’t even know his name.” The man was backed against the other wall now, taking heavy breaths. His fears had hardly been worth it. Some ridiculous deal with heights. Dreadfully plain.

While he was off duty, Roland was still in uniform as he hadn’t yet been home from work. It seemed lucky he caught this before anything further progressed. While the woman explained the man had been following her, he still seemed to be frightened for his life. Something wasn’t adding up and he didn’t like it. He supposed the woman could have stood up for herself which may have come as a shock to the predator. She hardly looked like she could do much harm. “Where did he follow you from, ma’am?” If this guy was stalking her with intent to harass, something would need to be done. He carefully looked between the pair and did his best to keep analyzing the situation.

As the other man came closer, Evelyn could see that he was in uniform. Shoot. Whenever the police were involved, things got a lot more complicated. Except with Marley - Evelyn knew that she could trust her, but everyone else there was up in the air. Which meant she had to tread carefully here. She twirled the ends of her hair around her fingertips, every mark one of nerves. “You do not need to call me ma’am.” She offered him a kind smile. “But - he followed me from Dell’s.” She glanced down at him, the urge to kick him to stop the whimpering - though ever since she’d broken eye contact with him, at least the whimpers had lessened. “To be quite fair, I did not even notice him, and I might have reacted rather strongly.” Another shrug as she bit her lip, “my boyfriend has been teaching me judo, so perhaps that startled him.” She took a few steps towards her new company. “I am ever so grateful you happened by, though.”

It brought Roland a sense of relief to know this woman had some basic self defense skills. He truly believed it was vital for everyone to have some know how when it came to fending for ones’ self. Back in Boston, he’d even taught classes to help with as much. While he wasn’t on duty so he couldn’t do much, he shifted the bag of food in his arms and responded, “I’m glad you were able to handle yourself at least. I’m off duty at the moment, but I can radio someone to come pick him up. Stalking is a serious offense.” One he would not tolerate. He nodded along as she explained her boyfriend had been teaching her judo. By the looks of it, she was certainly good at taking care of herself in that regard. The man who once thought he’d have power in the situation was now reduced to tears as if his digressions hadn’t been shameful enough. “Look at me,” he demanded as he knelt down, “Were you following this young woman?”  

“Oh,” Evelyn bit her lip. “I mean, you don’t have to do that.” She looked carefully at the policeman. “I know you all stay incredibly busy, and the last thing I want to do is add unnecessary work onto your docket.” Not to mention, if he talked too much, she could find herself in trouble. “I am aware it is an offense, but I think he was just being a jerk.” Then the policeman had to bend down and talk to the man and he looked over at Evelyn with a glare, muttering that she’d done something. “He is lying.” Evelyn lied through her teeth. “Anything I did was out of self-defense.” Or prevention. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, no matter how clichéd that phrase may be. “I think I would feel most comfortable if you and I just walked away from him.” The man let out another scream and Evelyn felt her hands shoot up to her ears. “Perhaps sooner than later?”

“Are you sure,” Roland questioned. If this was the type of man to follow women from bars, he wanted him to be brought in. If the woman wasn’t pressing charges there was little that could be done anyhow. “We do stay busy, but any public threat is worth examining.” Stalking went way past being a jerk in his book. These were people that felt they were entitled to people they were infatuated with just because they wanted them. That wasn’t how the world worked and delusions needed to be broken before it was too late. While the man did seem genuinely alarmed, somehow his allegations seemed frantic and nonsensical. Great, another town drunk. If leaving the man behind would make the woman more comfortable, he’d lead the way. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and frowned at the man, “He can figure his way home, I imagine, even if he does seem entirely too wasted to be out in public.” Once they were a safe distance away and standing under the glow of street lights, he shifted his bag of food to his left side and extended his hand, “I’m Sergeant Hills, by the way, but you can call me Roland. Are you close to your destination?”

“Yes.” She nodded. For all that Evelyn often found the police department’s incompetence when it came to the supernatural infuriating (and the very reason that Melanie’s killer had never been dealt with), she found herself incredibly grateful for it this time. It meant that he could pass it all off as just being typically weird. Evelyn bit her lower lip, fighting away a smile as the man continued to whimper. “Thank you.” She took another few steps closer to him, giving a sharp nod. “He deserves that, after all.” Perhaps her words had too much of a bite to them, but in this moment she could not find it in herself to care. “He does at that.” One of the many reasons she often chose bars when she needed to feed - or wanted to, even, Being drunk was an easy excuse to wave away anything that anyone said. “I am Evelyn Hoffman. You are welcome to just call me Evelyn, though.” She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear and nodded, “well, not to my destination but my car is not too far away. I reside on Harris Island.” She began walking, before adding on, “do you usually make a habit of working to save the day, even when you are off-duty?”

While Evelyn’s words were a bit harsh, Roland could understand. Men like this were infuriating and he’d much rather bring him into the station, but he’d respect her wishes. It wasn’t like she had called the police to the scene. He’d just happened to be walking by. There wasn’t much he could do now as they walked away. He nodded slowly and followed her steps. “Evelyn, it’s good to meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better.” Everything about her seemed prim and proper despite how he’d found her in the alley. It was a relief to hear her car was not too far away, he could make sure she got there safely. “May I walk you to your car, then? I’d like to make sure that drunk doesn’t try to follow you again.” It was no surprise to hear she lived on Harris Island. That was the nicer part of town. At her question, he shrugged. It didn’t seem like much to stand up for people in need when he saw me. “I guess you could say I do. I take my duty to serve the community seriously. I also just prefer to do the right thing when the opportunity presents itself.” He paused for a moment. “I take it you’ve gotten pretty good with the judo?”

“I do as well. I would have much preferred to meet you in just about any other way.” She offered him a wry smile, followed by a light shrug of her shoulders. Evelyn straightened her posture again. “Well, if you wish to make them better at any point, you are free to come by my bar. The police department are not my most frequent guests, but I welcome anyone, and you seem to be a good person.” She nodded, “yes, I would be quite appreciative of that, if it does not cause you too much trouble.” Adjusting the fit of her dress, she continued to walk, “though I do not think he should bother us again.” She fought away the puzzled look that threatened her face. Perhaps she had been spending too much time with people who were aware of the supernatural, at least in part, so much so that she forgot just how many people were entirely unaware. Forgot how much that could benefit her. She wasn’t about to feed on the man who’d come upon her, though -  he had been nothing but kind, and though she knew some people she fed from were properly good people, doing that to a police sergeant who’d just offered to help her out was not the sort of person she was. “Well, I think more people should be like you.” She flashed him a grin. “Oh! Judo? Yeah, I guess? I mean, I’m not on the level of my boyfriend at all, but I know some basic moves. I think I surprised him more than anything else. I mean,” Evelyn gave a small shrug as they turned a corner, “I do not exactly look all too threatening.”

What was done was done, but Roland did figure it would be nicer to meet Evelyn in a more proper fashion. Anyone with her self defense skills was someone worth knowing. He wondered if her or her boyfriend would ever consider joining him for some of the free self defense classes they offered for the community. “I think I’d like that. What bar is yours? I’ve admittedly not been to many of the bars since I’ve moved here. And thanks,” he said calmly now that there was more distance between them and the drunk. It was also a relief he could make sure she was getting to her car safely. “It’ll be no trouble at all,” he assured her and let her lead the way to her vehicle. As they walked toward her car, Roland was on high alert and was actively making sure no one was approaching. It seemed the drunk man remained in the alley, not surprising as it seemed he could not get up from the ground. Maybe after all this, he’d go back and check on him. Hopefully, a woman standing up for herself taught him a lesson. He noted a streetlight in front of them was currently burned out. A mental note was made to call Public Works about it in the morning. “Still, you knew enough to keep yourself safe. I’m actually looking to get more free self-defense classes going for the community. If your boyfriend was ever interested in volunteering, I’m sure others could learn a lot from him just as you have.” Maybe more self defense would help combat this town’s insanely high fatality rate. “Not to make you or him feel pressured, I just like to keep people aware of the opportunities available through the community center. I know many find volunteer work rewarding.” He let out a small chuckle and added, “You definitely don’t. That makes it all the easier to disarm someone.”

“The Artesian.” Evelyn offered him another smile. “Might I ask where you moved from? I am quite clearly not a native, either. I myself am a bit of a dead giveaway, though I suppose I could have been raised in America and still have this accent.” Though Evelyn was not able to pick up fear by random happenstance, only when she actively fed, she could tell that he was certainly paying more attention. Which meant that she just had to keep playing human as much as was possible. She found herself grateful that she had far too much experience in doing just that, but at times like this, it was easy to work a situation to her benefit. “Well, though it may be no trouble, I am still grateful. Not everyone does these sorts of things out of the pure goodness of their heart, no matter what storybooks may have implied.” She let herself laugh for a moment, permitting a moment of levity between them. “I do. Oh? Well, classes are always good. I know someone else who runs a self-defense course, but I can ask after my boyfriend, see what he thinks. He does seem to enjoy helping the community, so I bet I can persuade him to do something at least.” She gave another shrug. “It does at that. Not that I make a particular habit of it, mind you, but I like to be prepared.”

“I think I’ve heard of it before,” Roland responded with a small grin on his face. “I’ll have to check it out.” He always assumed he’d be a little out of place. It sounded fancy, but if the owner was inviting him, surely he couldn’t be too much of a sore thumb. “I moved here from Boston back toward the end of April. It’s definitely a different world here,” he answered, “Where are you from? By the sounds of it, overseas, I’m sure.” It would explain the posh nature she had about her. He wouldn’t be surprised if that drunk had also wanted to rob her. He was happy that wasn’t the case and by all indications, no one was following them. That didn’t make him any less aware of their surroundings. Her praise still felt slightly odd. He was proud of his work and what he did for his community. He knew it wasn’t for everyone and that fear and pain often inspired people’s choices, but to him, it just seemed natural. He was much like his father in that way. “You’re welcome, then. I know storybooks are hardly realistic, but I guess I’ve just been lucky enough to have good role models in my life,” he explained with a shrug. “If it’s not something he’s up to, that’s totally okay. Me and another one of the detectives at the station take turns running it. Occasionally, a local martial arts instructor comes in as well. I think it’s a good experience. Helpful and a good way to connect with the community.” As they rounded a corner, he added, “Always better to be safe than sorry.”

“Well, I am pleased that you have heard of it. Save for one incident, we have quite the pristine reputation.” Evelyn nodded. “Let me know, and I will be sure you get in. We often have a waiting list, but as the owner, I can make exceptions as I see fit.” At his question she gave a nod, “good observation skills. Yes, I am from London. Moved here four years ago. Incidentally, also in April. Must be a lucky sort of month for moving here.” Though he was likely human (she always assumed this, unless given reason to think otherwise - because this town, for all that it brought the comfort of the supernatural, there were still a great number of humans). “That is quite lucky. I have been fortunate to have a few of those myself.” She wondered, for a moment, if he was the sort who would help her if she came to him with Melanie’s case - though she knew that she could ask Marley for help with that at any point, perhaps not all of the police force were entirely incompetent. Even if most would never believe that hunters existed, and even if her physiology would be explained as nothing more than a trick of the eye. “I am happy to check with him regardless. Sometimes he is rather shy about how lovely he is, so perhaps this will earn him well-deserved greater appreciation. Besides, he truly does know his stuff. It is both of those things,” the turned the corner, “this town likes to throw surprises, and I was always taught, even as a child, to be prepared.” Her car was hardly too far away, now. “Can I ask, if you do not mind, what you think of this town? I know that when I arrived I heard all sorts of incredibly wild tales.”

With all the other craziness that happened in the town, Roland had nearly forgotten that Langley had been stabbed by a mime at that establishment. Though Langley getting stabbed seemed to be a trend, he could hardly blame it on her decidedly not mime-themed bar. “I think I know the incident you’re referring to and that hardly seems like the fault of you or your staff,” he said genuinely. As much as he liked Langley, it seemed like someone had it out for him. “I appreciate that, but I think I can manage to make a reservation before coming in. This may come as a huge shock to you, seeing as we just met, but I’m not the most spontaneous guy around,” he joked. As they walked under flickering lights, he couldn’t help but note he wasn’t so sure his move was lucky anymore. He’d been so optimistic at that start. Maybe he could find his way back to that. “London, that would explain the accent. What brought you to White Crest?” She had a successful business here, but he had to wonder, why here? Perhaps it wasn’t any of his business. Role models always made him think of his dad which left him with something of a wistful smile as they rounded a corner toward a parking lot. “I’m glad you’ve had some of those as well. They really do make all the difference.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice as he spoke, but he quickly returned gears to community classes. “Being humble is always an admirable trait-- though maybe some extra appreciation from his community would do him well, too.” At her question, he shifted a bit uncomfortably. Before being trapped in that house where nothing seemed to make sense and actually talking about it with Marley, his answer would have been much more clear cut. Now, he wasn’t so sure. It all sounded crazy, but from what he saw, it was in fact, crazy. “I’m not quite sure. Still trying to find a way to explain all of the things I’ve seen here. At the end of the day, what I make of all the wild tales matters little. It’s my duty to protect the people of this town. Maybe one day, things will have a little more clarity, but until then, I still have responsibilities to uphold.”

“Thank you. I have come to be alright with that now, but I did feel quite a bit of guilt after the fact,” Evelyn shrugged. She had shrugged it off by this point - especially since Kaden had seemed to forgive her, but she still hadn’t quite figured out why a mime would target someone. Focusing her thoughts back on Roland, she grinned. “Well, I do trust you with that, and hey, too much spontaneity is not for everyone. I can be, my boyfriend is not, to each their own. Still, if you would like to, I am happy to knock some other people off the list for you. From what I can tell, you are already better company than some of my other patrons.” She offered him another shrug at the remark about her accent. “That it would.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted a change of pace. Someone mentioned this town to me, told me it was beautiful, and I figured why not?” They were nearing the parking lot now and she bit her lip at his comment. “It is a lucky sort of thing to have, if I am to be honest.” He shifted topics quickly enough to spark a bit of curiosity in her, but not enough for her to push. At least not yet. “I think some added appreciation would do him well. I mean, he gets it from me, but there is a bit of a difference, no matter how much he might value my opinion.” She looked at him carefully as he began to talk. All of the things I’ve seen here. She wondered if she was about to get added to that list, though he’d seemingly taken her explanation of what went down at face value. “There are a few mighty confusing things, I will admit that. Well, your dedication to your duty is something to be admired, that much I can already tell.”

“I’m glad it’s gotten easier,” Roland replied as they continued their walk through the parking lot. Guilt was a feeling he knew well, especially as of late. No matter how many times you told yourself something was out of your control, it was never easy to shake off that feeling that maybe there was something you could have done differently. Sometimes people had to be reminded the only person’s actions they could control were their own. He hadn’t meant to let his thoughts drift so astray and he tuned back in just in time to catch what Evelyn had been saying. “I suppose you’re right. Different strokes for different folks and all that. I appreciate that you’d do that for me. Guess that just means I’ll need to come by sooner rather than later,” he responded with a small grin. It did sound like a nice place and it’d been a while since his nice not-work shirts were put to good use. Her reasoning for moving here seemed sound enough. Some really enjoyed that small town charm though he was almost positive White Crest was lacking in the charm part these days. Before, he’d seen it, even if the death rate was high. Now? He just didn’t know. The unsolved stack of cases sitting on his desk told a different story. “Well, it seems like you’ve done quite well for yourself here. I’ve heard good things about your bar.” That much was true. They were making their way further into a parking lot now and he assumed they had to be close. “Well, I appreciate anyone showing people how to keep themselves safe. Speaking of, is this the lot you’re parked in?” His dinner was long cold by now, but it was still better than Lean Cuisine and probably came with less scrutiny. “Nothing that can’t be managed with some dedication at least. Thank you, though. I try to serve my community well.” When she confirmed they were in fact near her car, he gave her a brief wave. “I am glad you let me walk with you. It feels better to know you’re safe. I’ll definitely be stopping in to see you soon.”

“Only so much I can reasonably hold on to, I think.” Evelyn bit her lip. She had more than enough about Melanie - nothing could ever surpass that, nothing could take away the guilt she felt for leaving that morning, for not finding out who murdered her girlfriend in the three years since.  “Of course. Least I can do, after you have been so kind to me.” Additionally, she had an incredible curiosity about him. She knew she ought to not feel such a way about humans, but she could not help it. Especially ones who genuinely wanted to do good in their community. Who wanted to help just for the sake of helping, while asking for nothing in return. “It has been in a few magazines, and the general consensus has been positive, I think.” She smiled softly at him, feigning modesty. “Yes, it is. I am right over there,” she gave a nod to her Ferrari. “You do a good job of it, Sergeant. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

[dancingsparks]

Crime Pays

So, because someone (cough, @urfavpendeja, cough) wouldn’t stop telling me about her new obsession with ‘Good Girls’, I wrote a Drarry Criminal au. As one does. I honestly don’t know what this is, but there is pining and tattoos and Draco smirknig an awful lot.

Thank you @fictional for the beta and the lovely comments!

Also on Ao3

Harry doesn’t usually do this. Honestly, he doesn’t. He was an upstanding citizen, well behaved, the worst thing on his record the time he ran away from the Dursleys when he was thirteen and some parking tickets. Both perfectly justified —his aunt and uncle wanted him gone as much as he wished to live with Ron and his family instead— and the tickets, well, they are more normal than not having them. Anyway, the point is Harry doesn’t usually spend his time with dangerous gang leaders.

He doesn’t know how it happened, exactly. He only needed money to pay for Teddy’s schooling (he totally would have given it back as soon as the Dursleys released the family money that was rightfully his). How was he to know that the gas station he robbed belonged to one of the more … unsavoury types. Draco Malfoy, to be specific, underworld crime boss, suspected of being involved in several of the biggest scandals of the last years even though not even a shred of evidence could be found against him, collector of Van Gogh paintings (originals, because apparently owning a mere copy is worse than owning nothing at all), always impeccably dressed in sly smiles and sleek suits, in command of hulking thugs that in deep growly voices informed Harry he now owed Malfoy a rather huge debt.

There was absolutely no way of knowing any of this, the entire affair a misunderstanding easily solved by Harry giving back the money he’d borrowed. Only, it’s not that easily solved. Harry didn’t calculate the interest he’d never agreed to in the first place, but also couldn’t pay to just have the whole thing done with. So, he negotiated for hours, pretty much agreeing to what Malfoy demanded from the beginning with only slight concessions for Harry’s sake. Malfoy smirking his oddly soft half-smile with every increasingly desperate offer Harry made.

Harry is by now well familiar with that smile (too familiar probably, doing his best to tease it out of Malfoy and thinking about it at random moments during the day, sometimes even the night). His new position as Malfoy’s personal errand boy (unfortunately a very accurate description, though Harry still hoped to get assigned a different title while working off his debt) meant he was closer to the man than he ever would have expected. Basically, it meant Harry was spending a lot of his time trailing after Malfoy and picking up weird tidbits of knowledge about him. Not that Harry’s actually interested in learning about Malfoy, his cruel captor, wielding his debt like a knife to his throat and as good as taking him hostage —as much as that was possible with Teddy depending on Harry— Malfoy was very understanding in that regard.

But while it’s somewhat of a mystery to Harry how he ended up here, he wouldn’t change it for the world. Life was infinitely more fascinating with Malfoy in it, watching him smile pleasantly as he delivered men to prison for crossing him, seeing his perfect composure slip just a little around the late hours of the night (early in the morning? When does it shift from one to the other?), trying hard not to stare too obviously at him. And yet the git was always catching him, smirking in what could be amusement or an invitation or both wrapped up in the most confusing seduction Harry has ever been part of.

That said a lot. Confused is what Harry does, from the first moment that he started to realise he was not only bi but also not equipped to handle attractive people, while also preserving even the least amount of dignity. Along the way Harry figured out how to not let that stop him, how to use blinding smiles and artfully tousled hair to charm people into anything he wanted, but Malfoy —possibly— flirting is on a whole new level.

There are the smiles, for one, always leaving Harry blushing and stammering, train of thought completely lost as his mind worked on adding that particular smile to the growing collection of memories. There are the soft touches, brushing his shoulder or standing too close, straightening his glasses or smoothing out wrinkles in his shirt, combing out tangles in his hair or collecting eye lashes from his cheek. Far too much casual touching to be an accident, especially considering Malfoy hardly touched anyone else, not even close to enough to satisfy Harry’s desire for the man.

The only reason he hasn't snapped yet, hasn’t allowed himself to touch Malfoy in return, to press him against a wall and muss up his perfectly coiffed hair, to taste those infuriating tempting lips and bite marks into the pale skin on his neck, to trace the tattoo he’s only ever caught glimpses of and yet haunt his dreams –

Harry forgot what he was going to say. That happened a lot when Malfoy was concerned. Harry gets distracted, attention caught on by the way Malfoy’s fingers painted pictures in the air while talking, how strands of hair fell into his eyes after long evenings of running his hands through it and — focus, Potter!

In his defence though, what else was he supposed to think when he walked in on Malfoy only wearing trousers and a loose shirt (not even shoes, standing barefoot and soft looking in his office)?

“Potter, why don’t you close that door behind yourself?” It’s not a suggestion, despite the vaguely questioning tone. Even if it were, how could Harry say no? He is completely entranced by how different Malfoy looked like this, more intimate and private than Harry had seen before, the armour discarded, revealing not only more skin but the person beneath the suit, actual flesh and blood. Harry wanted to reach out and touch more than ever, trace his sharp cheekbone, trail fingers down his neck and over his collarbones, along the — fully visible tattoo.

Harry’s thoughts grind to a halt, clinging to the idea, trying to comprehend the incredibly alluring picture Malfoy makes with a snake coiled around his neck, flowers woven between the scales as if they belong there. It goes farther down, the shirt not quite unbuttoned enough to reveal just how far that snake winds, but Harry fully intends to find out. There is only so much temptation he can endure.

Malfoy welcomes him with a smirk, giving himself willing and eager, as if he too is done waiting, never particularly patient and having shown remarkable restraint in limiting himself to teasing, leaving Harry to decide whether he wants this. Because as smart as he is, Draco can also be very dense. As if there is anything that could have kept Harry away.

Malfoy’s hair is soft in his hands, like silk as he cards his fingers through it, perfect to play with and grab, pull his head back and watch as his eyes grow darker. Harry starts slow, takes his time dropping kisses on Malfoy’s neck and tracing the lines of the winding snake, down and down with every scale and relishing in Malfoy’s soft skin, the way he squirms and curses and presses Harry closer with the hands in his hair.

Harry has no idea how he went so long staring at Malfoy, with his flashed smiles and equally flashing though more maddening tattoo, without touching him, exploring all the little mysteries about him. But now they are finally here, just the two of them, the only other people around knowing better than to interrupt them. This was definitely worth the wait.